The beautification of a city, public art and the reshaping of collective memory

The beautification of a city, public art and the reshaping of collective memory

SUMPEE BORAH

The removal of selective art, photographs or murals from public places by the state is not a new phenomenon. Eduardo Galeno’s statement that walls become the publishers of the poor is re-established in the present-day socio-political context of Northeast, Assam, after the removal of visual artist Marshall Baruah’s artwork in June, 2026, featuring Zubeen Garg with the tagline “Comrades Never Die” from the Ganeshguri flyover.

Simultaneously, noted visual artist Dr Rajkumar Mazinder’s artwork, showcased at the Mahabahu Brahmaputra Heritage Centre, Guwahati, has also been abruptly taken down. The reasons stated by the administration in both cases are wall cleaning and a beautification drive in connection with the Japanese delegation’s visit. However the visit was eventually cancelled due to some diplomatic reasons. Before Marshall, visual artists such as Nilim Mahanta and Ebo Mili were arrested for graffiti on the walls of the Arunachal Pradesh Secretariat that read “No more dams”.

Marshall Brauah

It is important to note here that Marshall Brauah, along with Angkuman Bordoloi, was arrested in 2024 for painting graffiti against tree felling for a flyover project in Guwahati. Their method of protest and use of slogans were “disapproved” by the state. Now the question is: why do murals or art in public places become so pertinent or concerning, not just for the state but also for the general public?  

Public spaces are never neutral but carry meaning, identity, belongingness and memory. These spaces become the publishers of those memories and historical narratives that are often undermined or discarded by official historical archives. The walls, the bridges, the roads, the resting sheds, and the public toilets become sites of resistance and resilience for that section/s of society whose perspectives are often erased by authority and power.

Dr Rajkumar Mazinder

A visual transcends its meaning 

The accidental death of Zubeen Garg is still unsettling the masses of Assam, and the case is under trial. The sensational fire of the suspicious (!) death of beloved Zubeen in September 2025 was already burning, and the removal of his mural, from one of the city’s major roads, took a new turn among the masses who came in large numbers to protest by repainting the mural.

When thousands of people from Assam, across gender, age, caste, religion, race and class were demanding the truth behind Zubeen Garg’s sudden death, their questions remained unaddressed. In fact, the Assam Assembly Election, 2026, shaped the whole narrative of ‘Justice for Zubeen’ in favour of the ruling government to control the rage present among the masses.

Hence, the walls and public places became the site of resistance and protest. For thousands of commuters or visitors who frequently cross the Ganeshguri flyover, the mural and the words written on Zubeen became a ritual encounter. It became a space for remembrance, assertion and transgression. The voice of Zubeen, his call for a united Assam, to resist power, and his eternal music echoes through the walls of the city wherever his murals are present.

The paintings, signs, and symbols which are found on the roadsides or walls of a geographical space carry the embodied memory of a place. These perform as a living archive of a place or community, denoting certain life trajectories. It becomes part of the everyday life of the space, and removing it means erasing a part of their everyday rituals and disrupting the rhythms of a practice, which is closely related to reshaping the memory of a whole community or an individual.

The mural is more than a portrait; it is a symbol of collectiveness, a shared history, and a sense of belonging for the communities who are still demanding justice for his death! In fact, the demand goes beyond one man, but to assert his larger fight for Assamese culture against casteism and communalism becomes possible through these means of symbols and images to commemorate death and to fill the resulting emptiness, and this is clearly visible in the above-mentioned case, which is often criminalised by the state.

The role of the State in this scenario

The initiative to remove artwork from public places traces a genealogy to the larger political context of Assam. Assam has a disputed past, often linked to the formation of Assamese sub-nationalism and citizenship. Zubeen Garg was always vocal till his last breath in asserting the rights and entitlements of ethnic communities, alongside other cultural activists.

He was a fierce critic of political regimes and their strategies that could violate the rights of human and non-human beings. And the present regime was no exception, but a recipient of Zubeen’s criticism. After his sudden death, his image in public places became a political statement that echoed his stance. Hence, the removal itself becomes political, irrespective of the reasons stated by the administration.

The memory of Zubeen and his ideology created by these symbols is collective in nature; it has been shaped and transmitted through people’s everyday routines. Historically, memory has played a powerful role in state machinery in defining and manipulating narratives.

When memory lacks specific ownership, it becomes crucial for those in power to take ownership and create new meaning. These collective memories are always inscribed as embodied, performed memories. When a state decides to remove such repertoires from public places, it does not simply mean changing the city’s aesthetics; it also means changing how one should remember the space, with the agency lying in the hands of power.

MAHABAHU MIRROR

CLICK THE ABOVE LINK

What remains after removal

The performance of resistance through painting and different art forms can be removed an infinite number of times, but it creates a new method of performance each time it is erased. The space becomes a site for contestation where power has been negotiated. The mundane everydayness of flyover’s walls became more visible the moment the mural was whitewashed. Along with Marshall Baruah, several people joined the call to repaint.

The before-and-after effect of the space has been documented on social media and widely circulated, and it has already become a digital archive. In fact, the white-washed wall provoked more than the one where the mural and slogan were painted. The mural’s residual effect became so robust that the whitewashed wall did not become meaningless; instead became a statement.    

This is not an isolated phenomenon specific to Assam or India; the removal of public imagery has occurred on different continents as well. What makes the case of Assam prominent at this point is the accidental death of Zubeen Garg before the General Assembly Election 2026 and its several interpretations related to it.

Public space, agency and power

Art in public spaces is not just created for decoration but also to provide a space for practising individual liberty, expression and agency when the written archive limits which narratives are recorded. When the authority decides to remove selective artwork in the name of beautification, it is not an unbiased decision but a conscious choice.

The removal of the iconic figure of Assam Zubeen Garg’s mural raised pertinent questions among netizens about what selective art has been removed. Was it creating a disturbance for the public while passing the flyover?

Is Zubeen’s contribution to Assam not important enough to be presented to Japan’s delegations, if at all they raise concerns about the image? Or is it the mention of the word ‘Comrade’, which already carried weight in left-leaning ideology?

The state’s intervention in this case is an example of challenging the larger Assamese collective memory and asserting state power. Yet the power of ‘remaining’ becomes heavier in front of what is erased.

MAHABAHU CLIMATE FORUM

Mahabahu.com is an Online Magazine with collection of premium Assamese and English articles and posts with cultural base and modern thinking.  You can send your articles to editor@mahabahu.com / editor@mahabahoo.com (For Assamese article, Unicode font is necessary) Images from different sources.