This column was spurred by my visit to the GB Pant Institute of Social Sciences, an affiliate of Allahabad University, for a ‘Development & Discourse’ talk on State, Agriculture, and Rural Development last Wednesday. Naturally, I took this opportunity to visit the university campus and some of my old haunts, like the United Coffee House, and places like Zero Road, Leader Road, and Mutthiganj in the old city, where Lal Bahadur Shastri stayed from 1935 to 1945 while volunteering for the Servants of the People Society, earning an honorarium of Rs 80-120. Visiting the city after a gap of nearly four decades also became an occasion to reflect on what had changed—and what had not. The colonial-style VVIP culture falls in the latter category.
The district has a new name, Prayagraj, but the city—especially the areas near Allahabad University like Civil Lines, Allen Ganj, and Bund Road—still carries the ‘colonial-era’ legacy of Allahabad in abundance. This is seen not only in the sitting judges of India’s oldest high court but also in the retired justices who continue to flaunt their status (unauthorisedly) on their vehicles. They also encroach on public roads with temporary structures for their ‘security’ personnel, even when their lawns remain immaculately maintained for the ex-Lords and their ladies. There is plenty of anecdotal evidence and YouTube videos showing justices of various high courts relishing this colonial expression, all the while expounding on social justice and equity from their lofty benches.
Given that the city is also the headquarters of the Prayagraj Division (comprising the districts of Prayagraj, Pratapgarh, Kaushambi, and Fatehpur), as well as being home to a police commissionerate and many vice chancellors, the number of blue and red flashers and sirens is certainly more than a ‘merry dozen’.
Some vehicles sport both a peon and a uniformed guard in regalia, complete with a red sash and turreted headgear. Naturally, these cars also display their flags, and the more important dignitaries have an escort or pilot vehicle. For those uninitiated in the labyrinth of protocol, a pilot vehicle moves ahead of the VVIP to clear the way, while an escort vehicle follows behind, just in case of a breakdown or the need for a backup. For super VVIPs, the cavalcade includes an ambulance.
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Flags, flashers, and fiefdoms
What is the genesis of flag cars, beacons, and sirens? These are all the hallmarks of military leaders in battle formations. Sirens were the modern-day equivalent of conches—indeed, the very first verse of the Bhagavad Gita describes the conch shells blown by the heads of the Pandavas’ and Kauravas’ military formations; their ensigns were also clearly etched on their flags.
While discussing this with Lt General PJS Pannu (retd), the former deputy chief of Integrated Defence Staff, he confirmed that over time, the functional role of flags had become largely ceremonial.
In earlier times, flag bearers hoisted the flags high enough to give archers—and later, gunners—an idea of the wind’s direction and velocity. Army commanders used flags to mark territory. And if the flag was captured, it marked the rout of the fighting force. So, flags and ensigns were decidedly military in origin, a tradition that continued right up to the Napoleonic Wars in the 1800s.
In the early days of the British Raj, when the collector and magistrate also headed the police force, divisional and deputy commissioners adopted this practice to reflect the glory of the Raj—not just to zamindars and taluqdars from whom they collected revenue, but also for the 562-odd princely states, all of which flew their own flags. Many of these princes reported to the commissioner, and sometimes even the deputy commissioner, about the state of law and order in their fiefdoms.
When India became a republic, the Ministry of Home Affairs (MHA) issued a Flag Code, authorising the use of the national flag on the vehicles of a select set of dignitaries, including the President, Vice President, Prime Minister, his Cabinet colleagues, Speaker and Deputy Speaker, governors, and chief Ministers, as well as Supreme Court and high court judges. While private individuals and institutions can fly the national flag on their buildings, the restriction applies to flags on cars.
However, in addition to the national flag on the official cars of these constitutional functionaries, military officials were authorised to use their own flags and ensigns. Field functionaries like divisional commissioners, deputy commissioners, and district police chiefs also continued this practice.
The military flags have a hierarchy. Brigadiers (one-star generals) use triangular flags with one star; major generals (two-star) use two-tailed flags; and three-star generals and above have rectangular flags. The ensigns on the flags of generals, admirals, and air marshals were duly notified in the gazette.
The MHA also authorised ensigns and flags for the heads of Central Armed Police Forces (CAPFs), and most state governments followed suit for their police forces. I am personally aware of the flag codes that the governments of Punjab, West Bengal, and Uttarakhand have specified for chief secretaries and additional chief secretaries.
In 2017, after the Seventh Pay Commission created the position of Head of Forest Force (HOFF), the Forest Service, too, decided it needed a flag like those of chief secretaries and DGPs to mark their equivalence. For the record, only non-gazetted staff in the Forest Department (like guards and rangers) wear uniforms. Prior to this, commissioners of Income Tax and Customs had also designed their own flags with service symbols. Somewhere along the line, vice chancellors, including those of agricultural universities, also concluded that their societal standing was determined not by their academic credentials, but by the display of university colours. If the UGC or the Higher Education Department have issued any notification in this regard, it is not in the public domain.
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Noida vs Prayagraj
It must be noted that though the first Modi government had taken strict action against red lights and sirens, the same rigour was not applied to the use of flags. While red lights have disappeared, they’ve been replaced by blue and red flashers in the northern states; in West Bengal, the state government authorised blue beacons for the cars of senior officers. Incidentally, blue lights are typically reserved for veterinary ambulances in the West.
Before I close, I would like to share an observation from younger officers about the public perception of these ‘symbols’ in Prayagraj versus Noida. They told me that VVIPs (of equal status) prefer to go about their work quietly in Noida and Greater Noida, but insist on these privileges in Prayagraj.
Is it because feudalism is more entrenched in eastern UP, while the NCR is becoming more egalitarian and cosmopolitan? Serving and retired officers and judges in the NCR are quite conscious of the image they wish to cultivate—liberal, suave, concerned, and almost parsimonious in their public demeanour. They are well aware that if their cars jumped a traffic signal or blocked another vehicle to surge ahead in NCR, a video would surely be made and uploaded, causing much embarrassment to these holders of high office!
Perhaps it is this civic awareness, rather than any government notification, that will be the key to creating a more egalitarian (urban) public space.
Sanjeev Chopra is a former IAS officer and Festival Director of Valley of Words. Until recently, he was Director, Lal Bahadur Shastri National Academy of Administration. He tweets @ChopraSanjeev. Views are personal.
(Edited by Asavari Singh)
Maharashtra too does not have an oppressive VIP culture. So the actions of Ms Puja Khedkar struck a very discordant note.