The recent suggestion by a former Chief of Defence Staff to rename India's highest military honour, the Param Vir Chakra, has ignited a fresh debate about identity, tradition, and the lingering shadows of history. The proposal, to replace the Persian-derived 'Para' with the Sanskrit 'Mahaa', touches a nerve far deeper than mere semantics. It forces a national conversation about the symbols we choose to celebrate our bravest soldiers and the complex tapestry of India's martial legacy.
The Heart of the Debate: Language, Legacy, and Valour
At the centre of this discussion is General Bipin Rawat's (India's first Chief of Defence Staff) observation. He pointed out an apparent inconsistency: why is the country's premier award for bravery, the Param Vir Chakra, named using a Persian prefix ('Param'), while the second and third highest awards, the Mahavir Chakra and Vir Chakra, use the Sanskrit 'Maha' and 'Vir'? His suggestion was to rename it the 'Mahaa Vir Chakra' for linguistic uniformity and cultural resonance.
This argument is not happening in a vacuum. It is part of a broader, ongoing re-examination of India's colonial and pre-colonial past. Since independence, there has been a conscious effort to indigenize the nation's symbols. The King George VI's head on gallantry medals was replaced with the image of the Ashoka Chakra. The colonial-era Victoria Cross found its Indian counterpart in the Param Vir Chakra, instituted on 26th January 1950, the very day India became a republic.
However, the history of military honours in India is intricately layered. As the original article notes, the British Indian Army itself utilized a mix of Sanskrit/Prakrit and Persian terms in its rank structure—like 'Subedar' and 'Jamadar'—alongside European titles. This blend created a unique military lexicon. The post-independence leadership, including figures like Jawaharlal Nehru and Dr. Rajendra Prasad, deliberately chose 'Param Vir Chakra' over purely Sanskritic alternatives like 'Ashoka Chakra' for the highest bravery award. This decision reflected a pragmatic and inclusive approach, acknowledging the composite culture of the Indian armed forces where terms like 'Jai Hind' and 'Shaheed' from diverse linguistic roots are deeply revered.
Beyond Words: The Weight of Tradition and Soldierly Sentiment
For the military community and the nation, the name 'Param Vir Chakra' has transcended its etymological origins. Over seven decades, it has been sanctified by the blood of extraordinary heroes. The names of recipients like Major Somnath Sharma (the first recipient), Captain Vikram Batra, and Grenadier Yogendra Singh Yadav are now inseparable from the award itself. The medal, with its design centred on the mythical 'Vajra' and the national emblem, carries a sacred meaning.
Changing its name now could be perceived as disrupting an established and hallowed tradition. The emotional connect is paramount. For a soldier, the PVC is the ultimate dream, an abstract ideal of supreme sacrifice. Its power lies in what it represents, not the linguistic root of its title. Furthermore, as the source article argues, a name change might inadvertently create a hierarchy between Sanskrit-derived and Persian-derived terms, undermining the very syncretic culture that defines India.
The counterpoint to the Ashoka Chakra is instructive. The Ashoka Chakra is the highest peacetime gallantry award. Its name is distinctly indigenous, yet it commands no less respect. This shows that both paths—the composite and the purely Sanskritic—can coexist with equal dignity in the national awards framework.
A Question of Priority and National Identity
The debate ultimately circles back to a fundamental question: what should be the driving force behind national symbols in a modern, diverse India? Is it linguistic purity, or is it the historical weight and emotional legacy that a symbol accumulates?
Proponents of change see it as a final step in decolonization and a reclamation of a purer Bharatiya identity. They argue for consistency and a clear break from hybrid nomenclatures imposed by history. Opponents, and many within the veteran community, view the current name as a successful, homegrown tradition that has earned its prestige. They caution against fixing something that isn't broken and potentially politicizing the sacred realm of military honour.
The issue also opens up a larger philosophical inquiry. Should the focus be on altering names, or on ensuring that the values these awards represent—courage, sacrifice, and duty—are deeply ingrained in the national consciousness? The respect for a Param Vir Chakra awardee is universal, regardless of the voter's or citizen's views on linguistics or history.
In conclusion, the 'Para by Any Other Name' debate is a microcosm of India's ongoing journey to define its identity. While the proposal to rename the Param Vir Chakra is rooted in a desire for cultural authenticity, it grapples with the powerful inertia of established tradition and deep-seated emotion. The names of India's gallantry awards, from the Param Vir Chakra to the Ashoka Chakra, are more than just words; they are vessels of memory, honour, and an unbroken line of valour that connects modern India to its long and complex history.
