Vande Mataram (I bow to thee, Mother) reignites a memory of those assembly lines, standing shoulder to shoulder, voices rising in imperfect unison. For generations of Indians, it is not only a national song but also a familiar, stirring, and deeply personal one.
This year, as India marks its 77th
Republic Day, that childhood memory finds renewed meaning. The celebrations unfold under the central theme “150 Years of Vande Mataram,” placing the national song at the heart of the country’s ceremonial, cultural, and civic life.
Republic Day 2026: 2,500 artists mark 150 years of ‘Vande Mataram’ at Kartavya Path
From the Republic Day Parade to tableaux, cultural performances, public competitions, and outreach programmes, Vande Mataram will echo across platforms, reminding citizens of a shared past while inviting reflection on India’s evolving identity.
Born in poetry, shaped by history
Vande Mataram started as a poem composed in the 1870s by Bankim Chandra Chatterjee, written in Sanskritised Bengali and later published in his 1882 novel Anandamath. Chatterjee, a civil servant who was deeply engaged with India’s past. He penned the verses during a period when colonial autorities tried to promote “God Save the King” as the anthem of Indian subjects.
Written in a spontaneous blend of Sanskrit and Bengali, the poem offered something radical for its time: A lyrical ode to the motherland.
Without making any religious allusions, its opening verses praised India's abundance and beauty. Hindu goddess-related imagery was introduced in later stanzas, a change that would ultimately influence discussions regarding its public use.
From literature to liberation cry
What had begun as poetry soon turned into a protest. By the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Vande Mataram was one of the most powerful catchphrases for the Indian independence movement. Rabindranath Tagore sang it at the Calcutta Congress in 1896. It appeared in some of India's first political films, had an impact on journals, and reverberated through subsequent Congress meetings.
It influenced journals, reverberated through later Congress meetings, and even appeared in some of India's first political movies.
In response, Anandamath and public performances of the song were outlawed by colonial authorities. For disobeying the directive, activists were imprisoned. However, the refrain continued to get louder, being shouted in defiance, whispered in meetings, and sung in marches.
It was transported across regions by freedom fighters. Vande Mataram was written on Bhikaiji Cama's 1907 rendition of India's first flag. Its verses were published in revolutionary journals. The song's opening line was reportedly Matangini Hazra's last words before colonial police shot and killed her.
Debates, compromise, and national acceptance
As India moved closer to independence, the song’s religious imagery became a point of contention. The
Indian National Congress decided in 1937 to use only the first two stanzas, which talked about the motherland without mentioning religion—as the national anthem after conferring with prominent figures like Rabindranath Tagore, Jawaharlal Nehru, Subhash Chandra Bose, Maulana Azad, and Mahatma Gandhi.
Despite the emergence of new slogans, Gandhi insisted that Vande Mataram not be disregarded and remained steadfast in his support. He believed the song carried a memory of sacrifice, so he warned against discarding it carelessly.
Vande Mataram was officially acknowledged as the National Song in 1950 when independent India gave it the same status as the National Anthem.
Why it still matters
As India commemorates 150 years of Vande Mataram, the occasion invites more than nostalgia. It asks us to revisit a shared cultural inheritance, one shaped by poetry, resistance, debate, and compromise.
For many of us, the song began as a memorised verse. Over time, it became a reminder of how a nation learned to find its voice.
This Republic Day, as the familiar words return to centre stage, Vande Mataram stands not just as a tribute to the past but as a living bridge between generations, echoing India’s journey from struggle to sovereignty and from memory to meaning.