From Ramayan to Political Brand: Who Owns “Jai Shri Ram” Today?

 

There was a time when the phrase “Jai Shri Ram” carried an entirely different emotional atmosphere in India. It evoked reverence, simplicity and a shared cultural memory rooted in the Ramayan. For millions of Indians during the nineteen eighties, Lord Ram entered their homes not through political campaigns or ideological conflicts, but through the iconic television adaptation of the Ramayan that aired on national television during the Congress era.

Every Sunday morning, streets would become deserted. Families gathered around television sets with devotion and excitement. People folded their hands before the screen as the story unfolded. The serial was not merely entertainment. It became a cultural experience that united people across regions, languages and social backgrounds. For many Indians, especially an entire generation that grew up during that period, the first visual imagination of Lord Ram came through that televised epic.

The Ramayan of the eighties was associated with morality, sacrifice, compassion, dignity and dharma. It created emotional attachment through storytelling and spiritual imagination rather than political mobilisation. The chant “Jai Shri Ram” in those years felt devotional, intimate and civilisational. It belonged to homes, temples and cultural memory.

The impact of that serial cannot be understood merely through the language of television ratings or entertainment history. It was one of the rare moments in independent India when a cultural text emotionally united millions beyond class, caste, language and region. Urban middle class families, villagers, children, elderly people and even those with limited literacy sat together to watch the same story unfold. The Ramayan entered the collective emotional bloodstream of India.

Interestingly, the atmosphere around the serial was not one of political hostility or aggressive identity assertion. The Ramayan was viewed as civilisational inheritance rather than partisan property. Lord Ram was not presented as a political mascot but as an ethical and spiritual figure whose life represented restraint, sacrifice, truthfulness and moral responsibility.

Yet history took an unexpected turn.

Several actors associated with that deeply spiritual television phenomenon later entered active politics and eventually became linked with saffron political movements and parties. Their transition from mythological representation to political symbolism itself reflects how religion, celebrity culture and electoral politics gradually merged in modern India. The cultural imagery created during the eighties slowly became absorbed into ideological narratives during the decades that followed.

This transformation deserves careful reflection.

Today, however, India stands in a very different atmosphere.

Over the last few decades, the phrase “Jai Shri Ram” has increasingly acquired political meaning in public consciousness. For many people now, hearing “Jai Shri Ram” immediately evokes election rallies, ideological campaigns, television debates, aggressive street politics or partisan mobilisation before it evokes the Ramayan itself.

But would this association exist in the same way outside India?

If one travels to countries like Indonesia, Nepal or Thailand, where the Ramayan continues to influence culture, theatre, art and spirituality, the immediate association with Lord Ram is still civilisational rather than electoral. In Bali, Ramayan performances remain part of cultural life. In Thailand, the Ramakien tradition continues as part of national cultural identity. In Nepal, Janakpur and the memory of Sita remain spiritually alive in collective consciousness.

There, Ram is still primarily encountered through culture, devotion and heritage.

In India increasingly, Ram is also encountered through political identity.

That contrast itself should make Indians pause and reflect.

The slogan that once emotionally connected grandparents and children through shared storytelling now often appears in political speeches, social media conflicts, protest marches and electoral campaigns. In many contexts, the phrase no longer sounds purely devotional. It sounds politically charged.

This is not necessarily because Lord Ram changed.

It is because public perception changed.

This transformation raises important questions that go beyond ordinary political debate. The issue here is not whether one supports or opposes the Bharatiya Janata Party. Political parties are temporary institutions. They rise, evolve, fragment and eventually decline. That is the nature of democratic politics. No political organisation is permanent.

But Hindu civilisation is not temporary.

Sanatana Dharma existed long before modern political parties and will continue long after present political formations disappear. That is why the gradual merging of religious symbolism with partisan identity raises an important civilisational concern.

When a sacred chant begins becoming psychologically inseparable from a political identity, something deeper changes within society.

In communication studies and branding psychology, there is a concept often described as brand synonymity. Through repeated association, one symbol becomes mentally tied to another identity so strongly that separating them becomes difficult in public perception.

India appears to be witnessing this phenomenon with several Hindu symbols and expressions.

This did not happen suddenly. It emerged slowly through decades of imagery, political campaigns, speeches, processions, television narratives, visual symbolism and emotional repetition. Repeated exposure gradually conditioned public consciousness. The result is that a deeply spiritual expression increasingly carries political meaning whether one intends it or not.

The consequence is subtle yet profound.

A slogan once rooted primarily in devotion increasingly becomes interpreted as political signalling. In many situations today, a person saying “Jai Shri Ram” may immediately be assumed to belong to a specific ideological or political camp irrespective of personal belief or intention.

This should concern anyone who values the spiritual breadth of Hindu civilisation.

Lord Ram does not belong to any political party. Ram belongs to literature, ethics, philosophy, art, poetry and civilisational consciousness. Ram belongs equally to the devotee praying quietly in a village temple, the scholar studying Valmiki, the grandmother narrating stories to children and the ordinary Hindu seeking moral inspiration from the Ramayan.

Ram also belongs to different interpretations.

Some worship Ram as God.

Some see Ram as an ethical ideal.

Some view the Ramayan philosophically.

Some appreciate it culturally.

Some encounter Ram through bhakti traditions while others encounter him through literature and theatre.

This diversity is precisely what made Hindu civilisation resilient for thousands of years.

Historically, Hindu civilisation survived not because of rigid uniformity but because of diversity and plurality. Hindu traditions allowed multiple interpretations, philosophical disagreements and varied paths toward spiritual understanding. That openness became one of its greatest strengths.

Within Hindu thought itself, there are Advaitins, Dvaitins, Shaivas, Vaishnavas, Shaktas, Smarthas and many other traditions. Hindu civilisation historically absorbed contradictions instead of collapsing because of them. Debate was not viewed as betrayal. Difference was not automatically treated as hostility.

Modern politics, however, often thrives on polarisation and binary loyalties.

Politics demands camps.

It creates supporters and opponents.

It simplifies complexity into slogans.

It rewards emotional mobilisation more than philosophical nuance.

Increasingly, social discourse creates an atmosphere where religious identity appears expected to align automatically with political allegiance. This indirectly pressures individuals to demonstrate political loyalty through religious symbolism or religious commitment through partisan affiliation.

That is where the real danger begins.

Because once religion becomes tightly linked with party identity, criticism of politics starts appearing like criticism of faith itself. Political accountability becomes emotionally difficult. Rational debate weakens because emotional devotion enters electoral discourse.

The consequences for democracy are serious.

But the consequences for religion may be even deeper.

Can someone deeply love Ram while disagreeing with BJP policies?

Certainly.

Can a Hindu revere the Ramayan while remaining politically independent?

Absolutely.

Can devotion exist separately from electoral preference?

It must.

A civilisation as ancient as Hinduism cannot survive if spirituality becomes dependent on partisan loyalty. Faith must remain larger than political identity.

Otherwise, religion risks shrinking into ideological branding.

This ultimately harms both religion and democracy.

Politics naturally contains competition, propaganda, aggression and electoral calculation. Religion, at its best, attempts to elevate moral consciousness beyond temporary conflicts. When faith becomes deeply fused with party politics, criticism of political actions can begin appearing as criticism of religion itself. Rational democratic debate weakens because emotional devotion enters partisan space.

The long term consequences may be serious.

Future generations may encounter Lord Ram first through political slogans, social media confrontations and election narratives rather than through the ethical universe of the Ramayan. Their understanding of Ram may emerge more from partisan discourse than from spiritual or cultural learning.

That would represent a profound civilisational loss.

The Ramayan survived across centuries not because it was politically useful but because it carried ethical and emotional depth. Lord Ram symbolised restraint, sacrifice, responsibility, dignity and moral struggle. These values transcended kingdoms, rulers and political systems.

Ram was admired not because he won elections but because he represented ethical discipline under difficult circumstances.

The greatness of the Ramayan lies in its moral complexity. Ram faces exile, separation, responsibility, grief, kingship and ethical dilemmas. The text survives because people across centuries saw human struggle and moral aspiration within it.

Reducing Ram into an electoral symbol risks diminishing that universality.

This does not mean religion should disappear from public life. Hindu civilisation has always shaped festivals, social ethics, literature and collective culture. Spiritual traditions naturally influence society and even politics. But influence is different from ownership.

No political organisation should become the exclusive interpreter or gatekeeper of Hindu identity.

Sanatana Dharma is too vast, ancient and layered to be contained within electoral frameworks. It belongs to millions of Hindus with different political beliefs, philosophical understandings and social experiences.

The irony is striking.

The same India that once watched the Ramayan together in collective cultural reverence now often experiences Ram through political conflict and ideological division. What was once a source of spiritual unity sometimes becomes a source of social polarisation.

This shift must be examined honestly.

Not emotionally.

Not defensively.

But thoughtfully.

The memory of the Ramayan serial from the eighties reminds India of a time when Lord Ram united people culturally without forcing political conformity. That memory itself raises an important question for contemporary India.

Are we preserving Ram as a timeless spiritual and civilisational presence?

Or are we gradually turning him into a permanent political brand?

And if future generations begin recognising Lord Ram first through party politics rather than through the Ramayan itself, will that strengthen Hindu civilisation or weaken its spiritual depth?

These are uncomfortable questions.

But civilisations survive not by avoiding uncomfortable questions but by confronting them honestly.

The real issue is not whether religion and politics can ever intersect. Throughout history, they always have. The real issue is whether politics eventually begins consuming religion itself.

When a political identity becomes dominant enough to monopolise religious symbolism, dissenting believers begin feeling alienated within their own faith tradition. A Hindu who disagrees politically should not feel socially pressured to prove devotion. Spiritual belonging should not depend upon ideological conformity.

Ram must remain larger than political competition.

Because once a civilisation reduces its spiritual inheritance into partisan property, it begins weakening the very universality that allowed it to survive for centuries.

The Ramayan of the eighties offered India devotion without hostility, spirituality without aggression and cultural unity without political coercion. That memory remains important because it reminds the country that Ram can unite people beyond party structures.

Perhaps that is the Ram India must protect.

Not merely the slogan.

But the civilisational soul behind it.

Siddhartha Shankar Mishra is an advocate at the Supreme Court of India and a commentator on law, politics and society. His writings blend legal insight with social critique and aim to provoke reflection on power, justice and public conscience.