TM Krishna On Symbols That Define A Nation | Where We Let Hate Win & Why India Is Worth Fighting For
Carnatic vocalist and cultural activist TM Krishna offers a meditation on what truly defines India—notstate-sponsored symbols of majoritarian nationalism, but the living plurality of languages, traditions, and everyday coexistence that the current political project seeks to erase.
Beyond Saffron, Ganesha, and Monuments
The conversation centers on a fundamental question: Which symbols represent India? The ruling party’s answer leans heavily on Hindu iconography—saffron flags, temple imagery, ancient texts, Sanskrit, Ram, Ganesha—presented as India’s essential character. Krishna challenges this as historically inaccurate and politically motivated.
India, he argues, has never been a monolithic Hindu civilization. Its DNA is syncretic: Islamic architectural marvels coexist with Hindu temples; Urdu poetry thrives alongside Tamil bhakti verses; Christian communities in Kerala trace origins to St. Thomas; Sikh gurus are revered across communities; Buddhist sites attract global pilgrims. To reduce this to a single religious identity is not to celebrate India—it is to diminish it.
Krishna points to the Constitution as the true symbolic core: not its preamble alone, but its operational promise of equality, liberty, and fraternity across diverse communities. These are the “symbols” worth defending—not monuments, but rights; not mythology, but material justice.
Where We Let Hate Win
The title’s second phrase references a pattern: India’s pluralistic fabric unravels incrementally when “good people” stay silent. Krishna traces several “wins” for hate:
- Normalization of hate speech: What was once condemned in 2014 is now mainstream political rhetoric. Leaders use divisive language with impunity because opposition has been cowed.
- Institutional capture: Educational institutions, cultural academies, media platforms—all increasingly reflect the majoritarian worldview. Their leadership appointments prioritize ideological loyalty over merit.
- Fear among minorities: Daily life for Muslims, Christians, and some lower-caste communities involves heightened anxiety about violence, boycotts, or discriminatory laws. The “Miya” labeling in Assam exemplifies this.
- Co-option of cultural symbols: Traditional arts, festivals, and languages are repackaged as “Hindu” heritage, erasing their syncretic origins. Even yoga—ancient ascetic practice—presented as exclusively Hindu.
Krishna’s argument: hate wins not through sudden revolution but through slow normalization. Each boundary pushed meets weak resistance, encouraging further encroachment.
Why India Is Worth Fighting For
Despite the grim assessment, Krishna’s message is ultimately hopeful—rooted in India’s lived diversity. He offers:
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The everyday pluralism that persists despite political efforts: shared festivals, inter-community Solidarity during crises, linguistic coexistence, culinary fusion. These are not “secular” abstractions but daily practices that pre-date and will outlast any political movement.
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The constitutional idea: India’s founding vision—accommodative, egalitarian, democratic—remains powerful even when violated. Its ideals provide a blueprint for resistance.
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The threat to art and culture: As a musician, Krishna knows that suppressing artistic expression is authoritarianism’s first move. But art’s resilience—through underground performances, digital distribution, cross-border collaborations—ensures pluralism survives even when institutions fall.
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The generational shift: Young people, though polarized, also show unprecedented willingness to question authority, cross traditional boundaries, and imagine alternative futures. Despair is not an option when youth remain engaged.
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The global moral stakes: India’s experiment with pluralism matters beyond its borders. If the world’s largest democracy succumbs to majoritarianism, it signals that diverse societies cannot survive. The fight for India is therefore the fight for multiculturalism everywhere.
The Cost of Capitulation
Krishna warns: if hate’s victories accumulate unchecked, India transforms from a civilizational mosaic into a majoritarian monoculture. The consequences:
- Cultural homogenization: Language policies privileging Hindi/Sanskrit; art funded only if it aligns with ruling ideology; history textbooks rewritten
- Social fragmentation: Trust between communities erodes; daily interactions become politicized; neighbors become strangers
- Economic stagnation: Diversity has been India’s economic asset (software services, labor diaspora, creative industries). Lose it, lose competitive advantage
- International isolation: The world watches whether India preserves its pluralism. Erosion damages soft power, investment appeal, diaspora morale.
What Does “Fighting For” Mean?
Krishna clarifies: not violence, not revenge. “Fighting” means:
- Defending spaces: Educational institutions, cultural venues, media platforms must remain open to all voices
- Speaking truth: Artists, intellectuals, professionals must use their platforms to name majoritarianism—even when labeled “anti-national”
- Building alternatives: Creating independent cultural networks, alternative media, community-level solidarity initiatives that bypass state control
- Legal resistance: Using constitutional protections, even when courts are compromised, to establish precedents
- Personal integrity: Refusing to perform for majoritarian audiences, rejecting awards from governments promoting division, maintaining artistic independence even at cost of funding
The Symbolism Question Revisited
What, then, are India’s true symbols? Krishna suggests:
- The multilingual signboard at any Indian train station
- The midday meal plate with rice, roti, sambar shared across caste lines
- The procession where Hindus and Muslims carry each other’s deities
- The Sufi shrine where all faiths pray
- The classroom where children of all backgrounds learn together
- The street where vendors of various identities sell to customers of all kinds
These, not statues or slogans, are India’s enduring symbols. They exist despite politics. They must be protected from politics.
The Personal is Political
Krishna, as a classical musician, embodies this tension. His art—rooted in Hindu temple traditions yet universal in appeal—demonstrates how culture can be both particular and transcendent. When state power tries to claim that art for one community, the artist has a duty to resist.
His own career choices—performing in contested spaces, collaborating across religious boundaries, refusing state honors when they become politicized—model how cultural workers can practice pluralism as resistance.
Conclusion: The Long Arc
Krishna’s intervention arrives at a moment when many genuinely ask: “Is India still worth fighting for?” His answer: Yes, but the fight has changed.
Earlier generations fought colonialism; today’s fight is against internal fragmentation. The enemy is not “outside”—it is within the institutions, minds, and daily practices that enable majoritarianism.
The stakes? Whether India remains a civilizational state (plural, layered, adaptive) or becomes a nation-state (homogeneous, centralized, exclusive). The former has defined India for millennia; the latter would be an unprecedented break.
Winning this fight means recognizing that symbols matter—but not the ones the government wants you to salute. It means understanding that hate wins when good people look away. And it means believing that India’s pluralism, though battered, remains worth defending.
Because if India—with all its contradictions, its diversity, its history of coexistence—cannot survive, then no diverse society can. The fight for India is the fight for the possibility of pluralism itself.