When Protest Finds a Symbol

In the times where state imposed censorship is gaining traction, direct discourse on certain politically sensitive(yet, relevant) topics is no longer possible. Not only can people not be seen engaging with them; sometimes, they cannot even find the appropriate words to support the idea they stand for. This is where symbols become important. Symbols become the physical manifestation of the idea behind a political movement. They become a medium to unite the masses without any verbal exchange. But, how do political movements unearth these symbols that go on to represent everything around it- the good, the bad and the ugly?

Literature has been a long standing predictor of the sequels to the stories of nations and governments getting corrupted by power. The plots we once read about in dystopian fictions, is slowly and horrifyingly unfolding across nations in front of our eyes, and we can be nothing but numb towards it. Until, a headline, a familiar word, an image pops across our screen. The red cloak of The Handmaid’s Tale, the Guy Fawkes mask of V for Vendetta, or even the memes and catchphrases surrounding a political figure like Zohran Mamdani reveal how ideas can travel far beyond the texts and contexts that first gave them meaning. Literature, cinema and the pop culture have much to do when it comes to delivering great messages anchored to recognisable symbols. And, suddenly, even the most politically unaware person in the room is invested in the meaning entailed by these popular symbols.

But, life doesn’t always imitate art. Life is actually the OG muse of art. Some of the most powerful and creative symbols in history have emerged from people’s very own lived realities long before they had a chance to enter fiction. And, more often than not, they are weaponised into insults, by people in power against the ones with less of it. But, what happens, when the people who are targeted refuse to accept it?

"Life doesn't always imitate art. Life is actually the OG muse of art."

That’s where reclamation comes in. It cannot merely be described as a symbol for an oppressed group. Reclamation truly happens when the targeted group collectively refuses to accept a word or image on the terms of those who used it against them. Instead, they take that very symbol, give it a meaning of their own, and transform it into a source of solidarity and strength. What changes is not necessarily the symbol itself, but who gets to decide what it means. History offers several examples of this transformation. The term “suffragette”, initially coined to belittle women campaigning for their voting rights, was embraced by the movement itself. “Queer”, once widely deployed as an insult, was similarly reclaimed by LGBTQ+ activists as a declaration of identity and visibility.

"What changes is not necessarily the symbol itself, but who gets to decide what it means."

And this gets even more interesting closer to home. Not too long ago, a word meant to belittle a generation of young Indians found its way back into the hands of the very people it was meant to diminish. The “cockroach”, something most of us would associate with disgust, insignificance and something you would rather crush than acknowledge, was turned on its head. It became a symbol of survival, persistence and collective strength. What was meant to be an insult became a name people could rally around. A creature that refuses to die no matter how many times you try to crush it suddenly became a rather fitting metaphor for a generation that refuses to dismissed.

Therefore, what makes these symbols powerful is not just what they represent, but the struggle over who gets to define them. A red cloak can become a warning, a mask can become a declaration of resistance, and a word meant to humiliate can become a name people proudly gather under. Maybe that is what protest does at its most creative: it does not always invent new symbols. Sometimes, it simply takes an old one and refuses to let someone else have the final word.