It is called hijack marketing. You know, like back in the 1990s when Coca Cola paid millions to be the official sponsor of the ICC World Cup and Sachin Tendulkar sauntered into the the frame, chugged from a blue can and cheekily said ‘Pepsi, Nothing official about it’ and stole everybody’s hearts? Or, like those videos that go viral nowadays, of a best man proposing to his girlfriend while making the bridal toast that is supposed to be in honour of the bride and groom. Or, like grumpy Bernie Sanders in his dadaji mittens stealing the limelight from Lady Gaga in her huge, poofy red skirt, and everybody else at Joe Biden’s inauguration.
At least that is what it was supposed to be. The farmers’ parade, I mean. It was supposed to steal the thunder of the official 72nd Republic Day parade (which was already looking pretty non-thundery, to be honest... because no chief guest, shorter route and all those masks). Not to mention an entirely unenthused looking VIP audience, sitting slumped and unsmiling in their spaced apart chairs (I mean, would it have killed them to at least look upwards when Group Captain Harkirat Singh, Shaurya Chakra awardee, whizzed over their heads, risking his life performing death-defying aerobatics in the new Rafale aircraft? C’mon, aunties and uncles, you don’t see that every day, even in your Lutyens banglas!)
I, for one, was all ready to be wooed and wowed. Jai Jawan, Jai Kisan is my favorite patriotic slogan and this January 26 seemed to be promising me all that and more. Except that things started to go horribly wrong.
Somewhere along the way, the hijackers got highjacked. Or so they claim. Marketeers far wilier than themselves infiltrated their ranks and sought to overthrow their agenda and destroy the goodwill they have built up over two months through peaceful, disciplined protest.
Such are the perils of hijack marketing! Frankly, the farmer groups should have seen it coming and been better prepared.
Illustration: Bhaskaran
Anyway, their claim has not been proven yet. The only thing we can say for sure, as the sun sets on our 72nd Republic Day, is that the visuals on our screens are invoking a horrible sense of deja-vu.
An angry mob running amuck as its leaders stand by, helpless and ignored. Police unable to prevail. Ant-like figures swarming up the rounded curves of Islamic domes, silhouetted against the sun. Chaos and anarchy.
But while, in 1992, the day ended with the razing of a 16th century masjid and left behind wounds that have still not healed, today our tiranga still continues to flutter triumphantly from the ramparts of the Red Fort. Yes, a few Sikh flags seem to be nibbling at its toes (or, as some of the farmers put it, paying obeisance at its feet), but whatever. And to the people who say no religious flag should have been displayed at the Red Fort at all today, I say yes, and no Ram temple should have been displayed in the tableau of Uttar Pradesh either.
One farmer has died tragically and it is reported accidently, and many police folk have been injured. But almost miraculously, the genie seems to have been put back, somewhat sloppily, into its bottle. The bulk of the tractors seem to have retreated. This is no small feat and a testimony to the discipline of both the farmers and the Delhi Police.
The farmers’ cause is valid. The laws they are fighting are cruel and unfair. They have the support of all of us. Now all they need to do is stay as icy cool as the Delhi winter, and not let opportunistic marketeers hijack their agenda.
editor@theweek.in