‘Lal batti” as the red beacon is commonly known in India, has been a signal of power and entitlement since Independence. Though Prime Minister Narendra Modi is believed to have made a timely but populist move by culling the red-beacon, it will do little to undo the culture of feudalism that is so obtrusively being displayed by our elected representatives and bureaucrats for decades now.

The red-beacon in India is not a mere device for signalling. It’s a status symbol, a trifle for politicians and bureaucrats to aspire for, as it separates them from the common herd by bestowing power out of proportion with their social standing. Simply, it segregates the ruler from the ruled, a hallmark of India’s colonial heritage.

Speaking on his decision in his monthly radio programme Mann ki Baat — straight from the heart — last Sunday, Modi said he wasn’t just removing the red beacons from cars, but also ensuring that “the VIP culture is removed from the minds” of the VIPs. Modi, to his credit, has tried to take on this culture of superiority head on. During his now three-year-old premiership, he has tried several near-impossible feats. This idea of his is only comparable to his ground-breaking initiative to try and defang terrorism through demonitisation.

In India’s skewed social hierarchy, there is a falsification with the idea of holding an office of power. Be it an elected councillor of a municipality or a member of parliament or a district magistrate — all of whom, as per the Constitution, are supposed to serve the people and are termed as “public servants” — have all become de facto rulers, whereby he or she is respected for having reached that office of power. In India, a minister or a parliamentarian who, in the eyes of the law, is just another government servant, expects to be treated as a divine being who is always followed by a retinue of people and at least 25 policemen, which in itself is a demonstration of power — even in the absence of a red beacon on their vehicles.

The decision to do away with red beacons, though, has been welcomed by ministers and parliamentarians across the country, who made it a virtue on social media, trying to show the world how soon they had removed them from their cars.

However, rest assured there will be little change of heart as the people in power will still treat the masses as the proverbial “aam janta” or the common public — who they are paid to serve — as an inferior being.

Last week, Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) national president Amit Shah was in Kolkata, trying to galvanise his partymen to take on the ruling Trinamool Congress. Though that is his democratic right, his movement within the city ensured that the common man, whose votes his party seeks, was left in the lurch. While the red-beacon was conspicuously absent atop his car, the entire route was sanitised in the name of security cover. His motorcade of at least 50 cars — accompanied by National Security Guard commandos — crisscrossed several critical intersections of the city during peak hours, thereby ensuring that the common citizens where left perspiring in the afternoon heat. Even school children were not spared the ordeal.

With or without the beacon, the relationship between the ruler and the ruled is unlikely to change. If the president of India’s ruling party is perceived to be so important, who is neither an elected representative nor a public servant, then why blame the ministers? The whole idea of a security threat is a hogwash, a clever means of demonstration of power.

And like many of Modi’s decisions this is not a new idea. To his credit, he just executed a 2013 order of the Supreme Court of India that had asked for nationwide ban on red beacons. I have travelled with several chief ministers including Mamata Banerjee of West Bengal and Manohar Parrikar of Goa, who, for long, had chosen to travel sans any security and pomp. Banerjee does not even use her official car and travels on second-hand car.

Already ministers and bureaucrats all over India are using other methods of trying to make them feel important while moving around. They are seeking pilot cars, while bureaucrats are changing the number plates and opting for ones made of brass with their designation in bold written on top. They may have been forced to give away the red beacon for populist politics, but that cannot take away their right to feel important amongst the ordinary people!

Culling the red beacon is the least Modi could have made parliamentarians and ministers do. There ought to be a change of attitude and, most importantly, a change of heart. The brashness that comes with power — as noticed in the thrashing of an airline staff member with shoes by a lawmaker or assaulting a collector at a toll booth — is a malaise that cannot be undone with superficial changes.

Archisman Dinda is a freelance journalist based in Kolkata, India.