Calculus often felt mind-boggling. The differences between kharif crops and rabi crops in geography class felt dreary. And the laundry list of later Mughal Kings and British governors-general and viceroys could get quite confusing. But no subject felt as deathly dull in school as civics. At least history had stories if you did not have to remember dates. Geography came with mountains and rivers, some of which were familiar, even if I confused the Narmada with the Tapti. But civics just came with duties, obligations, rights and amendments, all very worthy and all very dull. It was like the Isabgol dietary fiber of school subjects—essential for the system to function smoothly but utterly bland.

Why am I remembering Civics? In school I would pray to be saved from civics class. But this election “Save the Constitution” or “Samvidhaan bachao” became quite the rallying cry. Our Constitution has played a pivotal role in the just concluded elections.

When the victorious National Democratic Alliance met to formally choose their leader, Narendra Modi first paid obeisance to the Constitution, bowing before its symbolic weight and then touching the book to his forehead. Meanwhile, Congress leader Rahul Gandhi carried a pocket-sized version around, brandishing it from stage to make his point. The Constitution wasn’t just a doughty book, from my civics class anymore; it became a central theme of the electoral campaign. Some sought to change it, others to protect it, but either way it sparked debates and discussion nationwide.

The Prime Minister too paid tribute to it by tweeting after the election results came out, “It is our Constitution, due to which a person like me, born in a poor and backward family, got the opportunity to serve the nation. It is our Constitution, due to which today crores of countrymen are getting hope, strength, and a dignified life.” Perhaps He was still trying to distance himself from allegation that BJP wanted to change the constitution.

During the run up to election there was a buzz that the Constitution itself needed to be “decolonized” and the BJP had to hastily distance itself from its then Uttara Kannada MP Anantkumar Hegde when he claimed in March that the BJP needed to win 400 seats so it could “rewrite” the Constitution. Hegde was denied a ticket, but the allegation stuck. And the Constitution was suddenly very much part of the electoral campaign. Some wanted to change it. Some wanted to protect it. But either way it became something that belonged to the people, and it has always belonged to the people.

In fact, despite its hallowed status now, especially after the elections, the Constitution had plenty of detractors when it was initially drafted. The Gandhian Kangal Hanumanthaiah (future chief minister of Mysore state), complained that instead of hearing the notes of the veena or the sitar, the Constitution resembled the “music of an English band”. The legal scholar Upendra Baxi called it an “unparalleled exercise in verbosity”.

And the constitution is something which has always belonged to the people. In many ways the story of our nation is Inter wined with our encounter and interaction with the constitution. Of course, more than the Constitution, it’s the Preamble that’s captured the imagination. One suspects that’s not just because the Preamble is profound but because the Constitution itself is just too voluminous for ordinary people to digest. It is the preamble, which is both profound and concise, that captures the imagination. Now politicians might be touching it to their forehead, calling it their holy book but most of us, activists, politicians or just common man on the streets, have never actually read this book.

I am reminded of instances when the same ordinary people, some of whom might well be looked down upon by the bhadralok, have used the Constitution to reshape their lives.

The women protesting against the government’s Citizenship (Amendment) Act in Delhi’s Shaheen Bagh in 2020 marked Republic Day by reading the Preamble of the Constitution at midnight. I remember reading somewhere “Their song is the national anthem. Their standard is the Indian flag. Their holy book is the Indian Constitution. That’s an extraordinary sight for anyone to behold, especially anyone who loves India.”

Right before the “pran pratistha” or consecration ceremony at the Ram Temple in Ayodhya got underway in January this year, many celebrities, especially from the film industry, shared an image of the Preamble on their social media handles without any commentary.

The Preamble had become not just a pledge that we learnt by rote in school in our Civics class, but also a tool of protest. But it was an amulet as well, a talisman to protect oneself against charges of being branded an anti-national seditious troublemaker. At a time when dissent can easily be labelled “anti-national”, this became an act of what some called “constitutional patriotism”.

In 2018 tribals in Jharkhand erected green colored Stone Plaques (Green is considered the color of death by them) as part of the Pathalgadi movement to assert their rights. The tribal villagers inscribed lines from the Constitution and details from the Act meant to protect tribal areas from exploitation on the stone slabs to remind the government of what the Constitution had promised them.

A Parsi man challenged the Prohibition laws in the state of Bombay (now Mumbai) in 1950 saying he should be permitted to “exercise his right to possess and consume foreign liquor” and the Bombay Prohibition Act restricted his freedom of speech and action and violated his right to equal treatment.

A sex worker in Allahabad went to court in 1958 saying the Suppression of Immoral Traffic Act violated her fundamental right to practice her profession.

In 1957, Muslim butchers filed petitions against cow slaughter laws. More than 3,000 petitioners, all of them Muslim, 90% from the Qureshi community, had signed or put their thumb print on the petition. Thus the Hanif Qureshi case was possibly one of the earliest class-action cases in post independent India

All the above cases were lost by petitioners, The Bombay prohibition Act is still in force (In 1960 The Bombay state was divided into Maharashtra and Gujrat, and we know that Gujrat is still a dry state). Whether the cases succeeded or not is not the issue. That the cases happened at all is a marker of engagement. In many ways the 2024 General Election was a continuation of this engagement.

The point is not whether we agree with them or not, but that constitution gives us our rights and are the one fallback when the government fails us. It allows our voices to be heard when all else fails,

In a way the Prime Minister was acknowledging through his tweet and admitting that the so-called Constitution that was supposedly the bequest of the elite belonged to the common people as well.

In USA they have an organization called American Civil Liberties Union, which protects the rights of common man, but in India we don’t have such an organization. In its absence ordinary citizens and lawyers have become frontline defenders of rights, making courtrooms the battleground for civil liberties. It is here that the ordinary citizen encounters the state but unexpectedly the state too suddenly encounters its citizens.

As I celebrate the Constitution with all its faults, I also hope for better civics education for future generations. After all, understanding the Constitution isn’t just about rote learning; it’s about empowering citizens to navigate the complexities of democracy and uphold its ideals.