The importance of blue – The Hindu

In India, the colour blue has an age-old association with the struggles of the marginalised. In early 1859, peasants in Bengal, who had been exploited by white planters for decades, took a cue from a magistrate’s notice that made the sowing of indigo non-obligatory, and for the first time refused to cultivate the plant. Though many historians have termed the protests that ensued as non-violent, some others say that besides non-cooperation — passive resistance and boycotting of Indians who served British planters — peasants attacked factories and defended themselves against armed goons sent by the planters. The Bengali bourgeoisie were careful not to antagonise the British government. This fence-sitting by the intellectuals may have been one of the reasons why this ‘blue movement’, which sustained for over a year, remained local and anti-planter, and did not develop into a larger anti-colonial campaign. Nearly 60 years after this episode, the indigo blue came back into focus. But this time, it was as the launch pad for an entirely new method of anti-colonial activism. One that played a pivotal role in freeing us from the colonial yoke in 1947.

Champaran Satyagraha

Gandhi’s first experiment with satyagraha, or civil disobedience, in India was in Champaran, Bihar, in 1917. Champaran was full of indigo plantations. The tenants of the plantation were bound by law to plant indigo on a portion of their land. ‘This system was known as the tinkathia system, as three kathas out of twenty kathas (which make one acre) had to be planted with Indigo,’ Gandhi noted. The tenants lived in oppressive conditions, and landlords used force and extortion to make sure they remained subjugated. Even when the price of indigo began falling, they had no choice but to grow the crop.

Gandhi first went to Champaran on the invitation of Rajkumar Shukla, an agriculturalist. Very soon, he realised the gravity of the situation. He studied the problem, listened to the voices of the tenants, and mobilised public participation for a peaceful agitation. His overtures to the office-bearers of the planters’ association were rudely rebuffed; he was an outsider.

Still, Gandhi’s investigations were having an impact and made the government uneasy. He was issued a notice to leave Champaran, but he stayed on. Then the administration issued him a summons. The night before Gandhi was to appear in court, crowds gathered around the house where he was staying. The following day, the court was overflowing. In his characteristic style, Gandhi said, ‘In my humble opinion it is a question of difference of opinion between the Local Administration and myself. I have entered the country with motives of rendering humanitarian and national service. I have done so in response to a pressing invitation to come and help the ryots, who urge they are not being fairly treated by the indigo planters … As a law-abiding citizen my first instinct would be, as it was, to obey the order served upon me. But I could not do so without doing violence to my sense of duty to those for whom I have come. I feel that I could just now serve them only by remaining in their midst … I venture to make this statement not in any way in extenuation of the penalty to be awarded against me, but to show that I have disregarded the order served upon me not for want of respect for lawful authority, but in obedience to the higher law of our being, the voice of conscience.’

Soon enough, the case was withdrawn. Gandhi continued his inquiry and recorded thousands of statements by tenants and held multiple public meetings. The result was the abolishment of the tinkathia system. The satyagraha began as a response to violence in the name of blue. Momentarily, blue also became the colour of ahimsa, satyagraha and righteousness.

Ambedkar’s suit

But the dark blue of indigo soon faded from memory. It needed Ambedkar to bring it back into the public imagination. Ambedkar statues, seen in innumerable street corners across the length and breadth of the country, have him attired in a blue suit, holding the Constitution in one hand and urging us to move forward. There are many theories about how the association between blue and Dalit movements came about. Was it Ambedkar’s favourite colour? Ambedkar’s suit was a social statement and the choice of blue possibly just his preference. Some associate blue with the expanse of his vision and the non-discriminatory nature of the sky itself. Blue is also considered the colour of equality, representative of the working class. Buddhist and folklore associations with the colour blue have also been pointed out.

We know that Ambedkar gave blue a political presence by choosing it as the colour of the flag of the All India Scheduled Castes Federation that he founded in 1942. Part XI of the amended Constitution of the Federation, published in 1955, states: ‘The flag of the Federation shall consist of stars against a blue cloth cut in triangle.’ The Republican Party of India, founded by Ambedkar in 1956, also had a blue flag.

Could there have been another reason for the choice of blue?

In his Riddles of Hinduism: An Exposition to Enlighten the Masses, Ambedkar reviewed what the Puranas had to say on the origin of the varna system. He quoted from John Muir’s translations of some sections of the Mahabharata and the vulgate version of Harivamsha.

From the Mahabharata: ‘The colour (varna) of the Brahmans was white; that of the Kshatriyas red; that of the Vaishyas yellow, and that of the Sudras black.’

From Harivamsha: ‘The Brahmans, beautiful (or, dear to Soma), were formed from an imperishable (akshara), the Kshattriyas from a perishable (kshara), element, the Vaisyas from alteration, the Sudras from a modification of smoke … Hence in the world men have become divided into castes, being of four descriptions, Brahmans, Kshattriyas, Vaisyas and Sudras …’

That the colours blue and black are used as interchangeable shades was not important in these correlations. The scholar Nick Allen demonstrates that equivalences between certain colours and people’s social functions, nature and even appearance are found in many cultures. These cultural associations also reveal that people at the lowest rung of society are invariably allocated dark colours, very often blue or black. Allen calls black a ‘non-colour’ which is connected with the semiotics of inferiority and otherness.

Although Ambedkar wrote this particular essay in the 1950s, he had been seriously engaging with the Hindu scriptures for a long time. This makes me wonder if his choice of blue was influenced by the association of this colour with shudras.

Be that as it may, the blue has come to stay. Dalit protests across the country are flooded with blue flags. Political parties that represent Dalit communities have at least a spatter of blue on their emblems and flags. Homes are coloured blue; activists, musicians and movie makers use blue to signify battles against oppressors. The spirit of the blue has also changed with every generation of Dalit voices. It used to be about gentle appeals, then a strong collective demand. Today it is a forceful assertion of identity and rights, a powerful pushback that informs the oppressing majority that their time is up.

The blue chakra is at the literal heart of the Indian flag, holding within itself the strength of the Dalit community and the spirit of civil disobedience. It is a reflection of our right to assemble peaceably and without arms. An assertion that we will assemble to protect our rights and ally with all those society forgets to notice. It is also a reminder of our unkept promises.

Interestingly, Ambedkar doesn’t seem to have been present in the Constituent Assembly on 22 July 1947, when the resolution to accept the flag was moved by Nehru. With the partition of Bengal, Ambedkar had ceased to be a member of the Constituent Assembly. In late June, an anxious Rajendra Prasad wrote to the prime minister of Bombay, asking him to elect Ambedkar so that he could attend the next session commencing on 14 July. Ambedkar was re-elected in July and signed in his credentials on the first day of the session. He came in on 21 July too, but is conspicuously absent on the next day. Perhaps he did not care very much for symbols and signs; it was minds and actions that needed to change. The blue wheel of dharma moves only when those on the periphery are placed at the hub of social, cultural, economic and political activity.

An edited excerpt from T.M. Krishna’s latest book, ‘We the People of India: Decoding a Nation’s Symbols’, Context/Westland, ₹899

Published – January 14, 2026 12:58 am IST