Cinema and the Muslim

The influence of popular Hindi cinema—mainstream, commercial, popular films with their base in the teeming metropolis, Bombay (now Mumbai)—has emerged as an unmatched cultural force over the past decades since its establishment as an essential element of popular culture in South Asia. The choreography of drama and melodrama, music, song, good and evil, and action—the essential markers of a commercial Hindi film—has, over the years amalgamated another socio-political element in its larger narrative—the imagination and representation of the Muslim, and as a consequence Islam, in popular culture. The article, thus, aims to understand the dynamics of the portrayal of the Muslim in general, and the Indian Muslim in particular in commercial Hindi cinema, particularly contemporary commercial Hindi cinema, in an age when the lines between the real and the imaginary have blurred irrevocably. The Ramjanmabhoomi agitation and the rampant bloodletting that followed the demolition of the disputed structure at Ayodhya generated interest in the imagery of the Muslim in propaganda literature easily available all through the northern plains. This image of the Muslim, as the invader, the mlechcha, the outsider, the “abductor” of chaste Hindu women then became the mainstay of popular portrayal in Hindi films. An entire generation of Kashmiris involved in the movement for azaadi in the state, which later came to be supported by foreign mercenaries as well as the Western imagination of the “Moslem” as terrorist specifically after 9/11 attacks on the United States of America have fuelled a similar image of the Muslim as traitor and, most importantly as a terrorist. A careful examination of the popular Hindi films released between 1991-2012 provides enough ammunition to make clear a trend that possesses the ability to both disturb and unnerve scholars and observers of cinema. The analysis of the selected films is based on three distinct categories—films that portrayed the Muslim as a communal aggressor, those that represented the Muslim as a terrorist, and the “secular” portrayal of the Muslim in what can be termed as the New Wave in popular Hindi cinema. Several scholars, such as Robert Rosenstone and Dana Strand claim that written history as well as cinematic representation of history is history that is represented and not the past itself. Such representation is mediated by factors beyond just the content and the context. Janet Ward posits the “intentionalist” nature of the cinematic interpretation of the Holocaust. The agency of the powers behind the cinematic representation, therefore, emerges as essential elements in the equation. Edward Said’s discourse on “Orientalism” is evoked to deconstruct the representation of Eastern cultures in modern day American cinema . Noam Chomsky and Edward Herman’s propaganda model remains a useful tool in the hands of researchers seeking answers to the distortions delineated in the mass media of which cinema is a part. The Marxist theorization on mass media assumes that all forms of mass media remain within and are controlled by the wider economic, social, and political superstructure of capitalist discourse. A large majority of film theorists emphasize on the “image” being the centrepiece of cinema. Andre Bazin defines cinema as pictorial imagery produced by photographic means and displayed to produce the impression of movement. The “imaginary signifier” remains at the core of Christian Metz’s works on cinema and presupposes the existence of imagery that fascinates the spectators through absent presence, triggering powerful psychic responses. Opposed to this essentialist conception of cinema, Gregory Currie holds forth on the “natural” theory of cinema. Film semioticians, on the other hand describe cinema as a discursive form, which depends on constructed codes, which lead to meaning production. No discussion on representation in Indian cinema can be complete without a discussion of the historical and economic processes that contributed to the emergence of the Indian film industry as one of the most potent cultural forces in history. Representational modes in Indian cinema, particularly popular Hindi cinema evolved over time to form four epochal categories—the Muslim in empire cinema, the Muslim in Partition cinema, the Muslim in Islamicate cinema, and the Muslim in non-Islamicate cinema. Then came Mani Ratnam’s Roja (1992), arguably the first film to blatantly portray the Muslim as a terrorist. In order to arrive at a conclusive analysis of the “communal” aspect of Muslim characters in the films released between 1991 and 2012, let us glance at four Bollywood films that present a comprehensive picture. While on the one hand both Dev (2004) and Shaurya (2008) establish the context of the events and politics that intersect to produce a communal cauldron, Pinjar (2003) and 1947-Earth (1998) further clarify the presence of the “positive” Muslim in Partition narratives, both among those that did not migrate and those that did, building an imagery that tends to remain within the constraints of a discursive yet dominant discourse that imagines these positive Muslims as set pieces in the larger project of nation building. Black Friday, unapologetically divergent from the other films under consideration, postulates the “other” point of view, first creating a framework for the perpetration of a terrorist activity, then deconstructing the police procedural that led to the capture of the accused and their subsequent interrogations that reveal their motivations. Films, such as Fiza (2000), Sarfarosh (1999), Kurbaan, New York, and Black and White (2008) are significant contributions in constructing the image of a Muslim as a terrorist. Here, it is imperative to mention the sub-set of the overarching period delineated for the purpose of analysis used to analyse “terrorist” films. While Fiza and Sarfarosh represent the post-Babri period (1991-2000); Kurbaan, New York, and Black and White belong to the post-9/11 period. The representations are found to vary considerably. The representation of the Muslim as the communal aggressor leads to a further and continued observation of selected films, which initially appear to traverse familiar territory in terms of the popular imagination of the Muslim “terrorist”. The results obtained from the analysis of films mentioned above are unique and provide the bedrock for the development of the argument that supports the “positive stereotyping” thesis. Arguably however the manner in which the Muslim terrorist is imagined in the post-9/11 scenario is markedly different from the representation of the Muslim terrorist in films such as Fiza and Sarfarosh. The analysis throws yet another fascinating outcome. There seems to emerge an unmistakable trend towards a “secular” portrayal of the Muslim in the films under scrutiny. Films like Gangs of Wasseypur Part 1 & 2 (2012), Kahaani (2012), Rang De Basanti (2006), and Chak De India (2007) portray Indian Muslims as central, mainstream characters, capable of taking the narrative further. Films such as Jodha Akbar (2008) and Veer Zaara (2004), particularly with regard to their portrayal of the just Muslim emperor as against the popular majoritarian discourse of the medieval Muslim rulers being iconoclasts and zealots and the modern Pakistani youth being prepared to leave the ghosts of the Partition behind, are powerful imageries, which cannot be ignored. Muslim characters in New Wave popular Hindi cinema are divested of all markers of their faith, causing an invocation of Max Weber’s theory of secularization, followed by Francis Robinson’s works on secularization of public life in South Asia . The Muslims, it must be therefore said, are being considered against conceptual frameworks like “inclusion” and “assimilation”. An overwhelming predominance of “positive” Muslim characters in films produced between 19991-2012 signifies a struggle for discursive space between the “positive” and the “negative” Muslim where the positive Muslim, barring a few instances, emerges as the victor. This is in consonance with the dominant discourse, which posits the Muslim as a set-piece in the nation-building project. Any and all challenges to this overarching discourse are embodied in the person of the “negative” Muslim characters in popular Hindi films. It is noticed that “terrorist” films too must adhere to the dominant discourse where terrorism and terrorists are represented as a challenge to the Hindutva discourse of the essential function of the Muslim in the larger nation-building project. Here again, the problematic of representation resurfaces, positing on the one hand the positive Muslim defined as per the tenets of the Nehruvian nation-building project against that of the largely exclusionary right-wing majoritarian discourse. Also significantly important is the impact of the rise of global Islamic terrorism, the 9/11 attacks, and the “war on terror” unleashed by the United States and its allies on several regions of the world. Popular Hindi cinema is seen to respond to trends in international politics by identifying the Muslim terrorist as a non-state actor and locating him in foreign lands. The tendency for “positive stereotyping” runs through the development of the secularized identity in the New Wave of popular Hindi cinema. Even as secularization has occurred, the adherence to the dominant discourse, particularly the tenets concerning the proclivity of the Muslims to aggressive behaviour and violence, appears to have solidified. Religion, therefore, has been driven away from the cinematic sphere, but the secular Muslim seems to exist within the framework of the hegemonic Hindutva discourse on the “ideal” Muslim. The progression, therefore, suggests that the majority is defining the image of the Muslim through popular Hindi cinema.

Transcending boundaries, breaking stereotypes

This is perhaps not the first time that television content from Pakistan has been welcomed with open arms in Indian living rooms. Indians growing up in the 80s would find it difficult to not recall the fondness with which they consumed Dhoop Kinarey (1987), arguably one of the best known Pakistani television series in India. In the decade of the 90s, Tanha (1997-99)—a collaborative project between the television industries of the two countries—made waves on the small screen, particularly remembered for its soulful title track rendered by the legendary Late Jagjit Singh. During the satellite revolution in South Asia, Indians routinely switched on their television sets to receive PTV on their ubiquitous cable TV networks. Although one could argue that the impact of television content from Pakistan is restricted to north India due to linguistic affinity, the warmth generated by any programming from across the border is unmistakable. The recent foray of Zee Network into the collaborative minefield could be described as nothing short of revolutionary. Their entertainment channel—Zindagi – Jodey Dilon Ko—marks the beginning of a tantalizing new prospect primarily in terms of the possibility of cultural exchanges between the (sadly) territorial rivals. Notwithstanding its utility as a tool for Track II diplomacy, beaming of syndicated content from Pakistan could be regarded as a huge opportunity for the permanent destruction of stereotypes about the “other”. It would not come as a surprise if the evident cultural similarity between the people of the two countries shocks a few quarters in India. After all, structures and institutions in India, including the system of education, media, and socialization mainly of the coming generations, have done more harm than good to the process, if any existed in the first place, of breaking established stereotypes and engendering common cause with the neighbor. Pakistan has not done any better either. Cricket and cinema have, however, remained the most enduring bridges between the sparring neighbours—a pity considering the enormous potential the countries would accrue if their creative energies are channelized in the right direction. The prospect of reversing the negative stereotypes that pervade the psyche of common Indians with regard to common Pakistanis, now that Zindagi is up and running, is mammoth. First, the programme content remains head and shoulders above the average Indian daily soaps with regard to scope of the narrative, coverage, social issues understood and addressed, and most importantly location of the subject matter in relatable milieu. The daily viewer is not subjected to jarring displays of restrictive and exclusivist opulence, the stories and characters coming across as common men and women with very typical and very similar problems to deal with. Second, the television content provides a glimpse of the upwardly mobile, aspirational Pakistan, faced with the seemingly insurmountable issue of a gaping class divide. Viewers in India have been quick to latch on to the lovely relationship between a lower-middle class young woman, Kashaf Murtaza, and a wealthy young man, Zaroon Junaid, erstwhile rivals in college, in Zindagi Gulzar Hai, the flagship show along with Aunn-Zaara on the channel. Subsequent programming, even if akin to certain Indian soaps of the past have been bringing alive elements of the Pakistani society which find resonance in the Indian half of the subcontinent. Consider for instance the excellent show Kaash Main Teri Beti Na Hoti which portrays a beautiful young woman born to excruciatingly poor parents who trade her womb for money, marrying her off to a disgruntled yet filthy rich young man. Even though the narrative is reminiscent of Agle Janam Mohe Bitiya Na Kijo, such clarity of concept has rarely been in evidence in Indian television entertainment programming. Well mounted and performed, the show lends itself to comparison with its counterpart, Kitni Girhain Baaki Hain, an ode to the travails of women in Pakistan with significance across South Asia. Haven’t we heard of lustful employers dishonouring virginal women forced to work as maids or libidinous relatives devouring female family members? How familiar is the story of young lovers parting because of social constraints to descend into degenerate lives? Kitni Girhain… brings alive lived experience; a welcome change from saas-bahu sagas, it is a series of short films strung together. The programme is different from crime shows such as Savdhan India and Crime Patrol in that it does not restrict itself simply to crime against women, but explores the socialization propelling the misdemeanor. To view the characters as part of our society and milieu with undeniably identical life stories would not be misplaced. For the Indian woman, therefore, the Pakistani girl facing torment from the society for being a tomboy and having a mind of her own reflects a disconcertingly similar reality. Most Indians might be discovering these similarities for the first time, particularly true of the next-gen viewer unmindfully numb and comfortably unaware of the shared history between the countries of the subcontinent. While television viewers with roots in present-day Pakistan would feel affinity with the cultural ethos of the characters depicted in the programming, largely in terms of the Punjabi ambiance of most of the serialized stories on air at present, a young viewer devoid of any feeling of kinship and fed on propagandist as well as true accounts of Islamic radicals and terrorists emanating from Pakistan would most definitely be surprised to discover a number of new facts about the demonized neighbor. Some of those facts might be with regard to clothing and attire, especially of Pakistani women. A section of Indians would be quite shocked to realize that all Pakistani women are not clad in black burqas; in fact the almost complete absence of burqas and hijabs from the landscape of the programming in question would have come as an eye-opener for a few. Although it is true that these television programmes do not depict the Pakistani society it its entirety and are reflective of only the aspirations of a wealthy, upper middle class setting, they provide an indication to the transformations taking place in Pakistani society even as the old order refuses to die down. For generations of Indians force-fed on the fearsome imagery of rabid mullahs running amok in the neighbouring country, controlling the day-to-day lives of people, the images beamed on Zindagi are a revelation. Yes, large swathes of the country are being taken over by the hyper-radicalized and Talibanized zealots and their brand of Islam, but the aspirations of the English-speaking, liberal Pakistani are not very different from counterparts in India. What programming on Zindagi does best is take this liberal, sophisticated Pakistani into the living spaces of similarly liberal, educated and sophisticated Indians bridging the perceptual gap and breaking stereotypes. If bridges are to be built and an atmosphere of trust created, the doing away of stereotypes would be a positive beginning.