By Kumkum Chadha
Thirty-two years ago, the air rang with incendiary slogans: “Ek dhakka aur do, Babri Masjid tod do” (One more push, demolish the Babri Masjid), “Ram naam satya hai, Babri Masjid dhwast hai” (Ram’s name is the only truth, the Babri Masjid is no more).
It was a prelude to the demolition of the Babri Masjid in Ayodhya, Uttar Pradesh. And when the disputed structure was reduced to rubble, many among the kar sevaks rejoiced. One of the most vocal and visible figures at the site was Sadhvi Ritambhara.
Draped in saffron robes, vermillion smeared across her forehead, she stood triumphantly amid the debris, one foot planted atop a mound of bricks. To her followers, she was a warrior—perhaps even a reincarnation of Lakshmibai of Jhansi. While that comparison was ultimately spared, she was still exalted as a blend of Saraswati (goddess of wisdom) and Shakti (goddess of power).
Ritambhara’s rhetoric, however, has long been venomous and polarizing. She has accused Muslims of “mass breeding” to outnumber Hindus and has been equally scathing towards Christians. Her speeches have allegedly incited communal riots that left over 2,000 people dead. The Liberhan Commission found her culpable in the Babri Masjid demolition.
This history, written in blood, is not easily erased. Yet, in a move that has sparked sharp criticism, the BJP-led government has chosen to honour her with the Padma Vibhushan, the country’s second-highest civilian award.
A Controversial Selection
The Padma Awards, an annual tradition, are tiered: Padma Vibhushan, followed by Padma Bhushan, and finally Padma Shri. The highest civilian honour, the Bharat Ratna, is conferred only in exceptional cases. Ritambhara’s selection for the Padma Vibhushan—a notch above the basic Padma Shri—sends a clear message: her contributions, however controversial, are deemed significant.
The timing is also telling. This honour comes just a year after the consecration of the Ram Temple in Ayodhya, a movement in which Ritambhara played a pivotal role. While her supporters have celebrated her recognition, detractors have condemned it, urging fellow awardees to reconsider accepting their honours alongside hers.
This year’s Padma list has, unsurprisingly, taken on a religious hue. Several figures connected to the Ram Temple movement feature prominently:
• Chandrakant Sompura, the octogenarian architect of the Temple.
• Kunal Kishore, a former IPS officer on special duty during the Ayodhya dispute.
• Jagdish Khehar, former Chief Justice of India, who offered to mediate in the Temple dispute.
• CS Vaidyanathan, the lawyer who argued the Hindu side of the case.
• Ganeshwar Shastri Dravid, who determined the temple’s consecration timing.
Another name drawing controversy is Swami Pradiptananda, also known as Kartik Maharaj. His claim to fame? Openly confronting West Bengal Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee and advocating the weaponization of religion.
Yet, while these selections reflect a particular ideological leaning, they represent only part of the picture.
A Changing Awards Landscape
The broader transformation of the Padma Awards under the Modi government is undeniable. Until recently, these honours were largely elitist—often the result of intense lobbying, reserved for Delhi’s power circles, socialites, and, at times, even the tainted.
Take, for instance, the inclusion of US-based hotelier Sant Singh Chatwal in 2010. His credentials? A campaign contribution fraud case in the US and extensive lobbying for the Indo-US nuclear deal. And yet, the then Manmohan Singh government lauded him as a “tireless advocate of India’s interests in the USA”.
While lobbying and political patronage still play a role in today’s selections, they are no longer the only deciding factors. Under Modi, the nomination process has been overhauled, making it more transparent and accessible.
The shift began in Modi’s first term when the government opened nominations to the general public. Applications became online-based, and self-nominations were introduced—effectively dismantling the long-standing “culture of influence”. This has led to an unprecedented influx of unsung heroes onto the award stage.
Consider some of this year’s winners:
• Hariman Sharma, an apple farmer who developed an innovative variety.
• Naren Gurung, a folk artist preserving Bhutia and Lepcha traditions.
• Jagdish Joshila, an author dedicated to saving the Nimadi language.
In past years, we’ve seen equally remarkable stories:
• Tulasi Gowda, a barefoot, bare-backed 75-year-old tribal woman, who stunned onlookers as she walked up to the Rashtrapati Bhavan podium.
• Harekala Hajabba, an illiterate orange vendor, who, after struggling to communicate with a foreign customer, went on to establish a school.
• Mohammad Sharif, an 80-year-old bicycle repairman (Sharif Chacha), who has performed the last rites of over 25,000 unclaimed bodies.
• Manjamma Jogathi, a transgender folk dancer, who broke tradition by blessing the President before receiving her award.
For many of these recipients, the Padma Awards were unknown entities. Kanaka Raju, an 80-year-old exponent of the tribal dance form Gussadi, had never boarded an aircraft until his trip to Delhi to receive his honour. When he hesitated to eat at the Awards banquet, it was Modi himself who encouraged him: “Achcha khao” (eat well).
Moments like these mark a striking departure from the past. A podium once reserved for the privileged few now welcomes barefoot teachers, farmers, and folk artists.
A Dual Reality
Thus, even while decrying the Modi government for its controversial selections—Ritambhara and others—it would be unfair to ignore its efforts in democratizing these honours.
Of the 139 Padma Awards announced this year, only a handful are mired in controversy. The overwhelming majority are everyday Indians—people who, in previous years, would have remained in obscurity.
This is the paradox of Modi’s Padma Awards: while ideological choices make headlines, the broader shift towards recognizing grassroots changemakers is equally significant.
The question remains—will the future of these awards tilt further towards political considerations, or will they continue to uplift the unnoticed and the deserving? Perhaps, as with all things in politics, the truth lies somewhere in between.