The Thar Problem: Machismo, Myth, and the Making of an Indian Icon

Few vehicles on Indian roads possess the magnetism of the Mahindra Thar. It is instantly recognisable, unapologetically muscular, and almost cinematic in its presence. When it roars past, it leaves behind a mix of admiration and unease. It stands for freedom, but also for defiance. It signals individuality, but sometimes spills into exhibitionism.

In recent years, the Thar has earned an unintended reputation as the chosen chariot of the brash and unruly. That is a pity, because underneath the noise lies one of India’s most promising brand myths waiting to be refined rather than rejected.

The Thar is a symbol that carries more cultural weight than a mere vehicle. In its raw lines and rugged silhouette live echoes of an older India that worked the land, crossed rivers, and sought the open road without apology.

It is the spiritual heir of the Jeep, an instrument once of war and later of adventure. When Mahindra modernised it, they did not create a product but revived and strengthened an archetype.

Douglas Holt once observed that iconic brands thrive when they inhabit the cultural tensions of their time. The Thar does just that. It offers escape in an increasingly enclosed world. It answers a quiet yearning for self-reliance in an age of dependence on devices and deliveries.

The Thar’s destiny will not be written by its horsepower or price but by the stories people associate with it.

Yet myths are fragile. The same symbol that celebrates independence can slide into arrogance when it falls into the wrong hands. The Thar may have begun to suffer that fate. What once stood for the courage to take the road less travelled now too often represents the desire to dominate the road itself. That is how a brand loses its moral centre. Every object of power attracts imitation, and imitation without understanding quickly becomes parody.

Leo Burnett believed that great brands live in the imagination, not in the factory. A product’s meaning is created by the people who use it and the stories they tell. Edward Bernays, the early architect of persuasion, wrote that people do not buy things but ideas of themselves.

The Thar must therefore decide which idea of self it wants to represent. If it becomes the vehicle of the lout, it will soon lose the respect that made it desirable. If it reclaims its identity as the vehicle of the explorer, it can rightfully join the company of enduring icons.

History offers many such lessons. Harley-Davidson’s early riders were outlaws before they became symbols of personal freedom. Jack Daniel’s once flirted with the mythology of rebellion before finding dignity in craftsmanship. Jeep turned its military roots into a language of stewardship and adventure. Each of these brands began in excess and matured through meaning. The Thar stands at a similar threshold. Its next chapter depends on whether Mahindra chooses to glamourise noise or to cultivate nuance.

The same symbol that celebrates independence can slide into arrogance when it falls into the wrong hands.

Reclaiming the Thar’s meaning does not require softening it. Power need not be loud to be real. The brand can speak of endurance rather than aggression, of journeys that build character rather than status. The stories it tells could feature explorers who restore forests, photographers who chase monsoons, or travellers who cross borders to connect people. Such images would not preach restraint but more reveal that true strength is measured in purpose.

I learned this as global head of Marketing at Royal Enfield. The rides culture it promoted was the real marrow of the brand. Passions as diverse as photography, cuisine and mountaineering could meld into the purpose of Riding itself

Douglas Holt called this act of renewal recoding. When a symbol begins to drift, it must be placed in new hands and new contexts. Mahindra can invite artists, naturalists, and storytellers to inhabit the Thar’s world. The vehicle belongs in landscapes of silence and scale, not in city traffic. Each journey should remind us that the Indian horizon is still vast and worth protecting.

At its best, the Thar represents the Indian reality of resilience. It is built not for show but for endurance, a quality that sits deep in the national psyche. It embodies the will to keep moving when the road ends, to find one’s own path through uncertainty. That spirit connects farmers and soldiers, travellers and dreamers.

The Thar is not a foreign fantasy of adventure. It is an indigenous and proud expression of will.

If Mahindra succeeds in refining this myth, it could create something rare in Indian branding, a homegrown symbol of masculine grace. The Thar can become an emblem of the responsible adventurer, a figure who values strength but wields it with care. Such a shift would place it in the lineage of Harley, Jeep, and Marlboro at their most meaningful moments, when they became not commodities but cultural mirrors.

Reclaiming the Thar’s meaning does not require softening it. Power need not be loud to be real.

Steven Watts in JFK and the Masculine Mystique wrote of how John F. Kennedy transformed the meaning of masculinity for a modern age. He showed that virility could be graceful, that strength could coexist with style, and that public power demanded private restraint. Kennedy’s myth was not of domination but of disciplined vitality. He reclaimed the frontier spirit for a world that had grown weary of both conformity and chaos. The Thar can learn from that example. Its allure already lies in physical charisma and youthful confidence, but these must be tempered by composure.

Like Kennedy’s poise on the public stage, the Thar’s power must find its purpose in civility. If Mahindra can fuse vigour with virtue, the brand could mature from raw energy into enduring symbol, transforming machismo into mastery and performance into principle.

The Thar’s destiny will not be written by its horsepower or price but by the stories people associate with it.

Brands, like myths, survive only when they align with the moral imagination of their age.

The Thar already possesses the raw material of legend. It only needs a storyteller who can turn rebellion into respect.

Shubhranshu Singh is a stalwart marketer and columnist honoured as Forbes 50 most influential CMOs in 2025. He served as CMO at Tata Motors CV and Royal Enfield over the last decade in his immediate past assignments.