As I sat in the cinema hall watching Pathaan earlier this year, I felt unnerved. Given Shah Rukh Khan’s previous films and interviews, I hoped Pathaan would rejuvenate the older nationalism SRK had always represented, and that Indians had celebrated regularly since Independence. I longed for some defence of the “Amar-Akbar-Anthony”-ness of that older Indian nationalism. Some revival of the assertively pluralist, playfully self-critical but also prideful, more quietist and mature nationalism SRK showcased in the song ‘Phir bhi dil hai Hindustani’ (2000). The song gave equal time to orange, green and white hues, asserting that Indian citizens belong equally. It candidly acknowledged our periodic ineptitude, the halting pace of our development, our occasional dishonesty, even the criminality of the ostensibly righteous politicians we vote for, and poked fun at our obsession with money as much as love. But it also evoked pride in India’s diversity, its food, dress, customs and practices, in the innovativeness, generosity and even famous argumentative nature of India’s people. There was maturity in its acknowledgement of both the strain and sadness that marks the everyday lives of most Indians, and their continued attachment to, pride in and hope for India.
Perhaps, Pathaan would recall the nationalism of Swades (2004), which warmly urged us to resist the brain drain and serve India by working to improve the living conditions of its people. The song ‘Yeh jo des hai tera’ spoke to the ineffable attachment and pull we feel towards India. ‘Yeh tara woh tara’ goaded us to do our bit as individuals, overcome any mutual hostilities, take advantage of our diversity, and unite to fight against injustice and build a better nation. The song ‘Chak de India’ (2007) inspired Indians from every corner of India, rural and urban, Hindu and Muslim, to turn their nationalist sentiment into constructive action so India can scale new heights. In its pop-cultural way, the movie celebrated India’s regional plurality and, through its protagonist Kabir Khan, asserted the nationalist loyalty of India’s Muslims.
But in Pathaan, one witnessed a different Indian nationalism. Over the past several years, Indian films have turned to mirror the new nationalism ascendant in Indian politics. This new nationalism emphasises muscularity, violence, even revenge, alongside uncritical pride in and service to India. Pathaan deviated from it in acknowledging the injustice done by the Indian state to an ostensibly “anti-India traitor” and in thus admitting his humanity; in urging that an Indian nationalist must actively prevent potential wrongdoing by the Indian state; in differentiating between rogue Pakistani state actors and “good” Pakistanis; and imagining Indian-Pakistani and Hindu-Muslim cooperation within India. Yet, these subtleties ultimately seemed to have been overshadowed by three messages being relentlessly rammed into the audience’s mind: Defend your nation, sacrifice for it, and “ask not what your nation has done for you, ask what you can do for your nation” (read: Never question the nation). The lack of the usual playful mix of national pride and critique, and the total absence of images of India’s diverse people and cultures, felt jarring and dehumanising. The big message from Pathaan seemed to be: Indian Muslims too are muscular hyper-nationalists, willing to uncritically serve, defend, sacrifice and kill for the nation-state. I watched Pathaan with a sense of loss for that older, more moderate, pluralist, mature nationalism SRK represented. Its very icon was apparently announcing to us that there was no longer any space in India for that older nationalism. While thousands cheered Pathaan’s success, in reality, had our hero been subordinated and defeated, forced to play by the terms set by newly powerful, monochromatic, muscular, uncritical hyper-nationalists? Had SRK played into their game and helped solidify this immoderate, narrow nationalism as India’s new political “centre”?
This is why it is a relief to watch Jawan, which feels closer to both what SRK and India had often embodied. As we are being sold dreams of a glittering future where India is apparently set to become a developed nation and international superpower, and any questioning brings small-minded charges of partisanship, SRK gives us a reality check on a macro, all-India level: Do not be deluded by the rhetoric of those who sell dreams; activate that empathy and humanity within yourself; be more aware and honest about the harsh, unjust everyday realities faced by your fellow countrymen and even yourself; demand accountability from those for whom you vote to represent you. Are they really representing your interests and improving your life? Raise critical questions about the still-dismal state of India’s farmers, healthcare, education system, justice system, corrupt politics, politics-business nexus, urban planning, and poor air quality. Rather than reflecting “negativity” or partisanship, this critical questioning reflects a deeper nationalism which ensures that India develops better and faster. A better, stronger India will be built not by ignoring realities and deluding oneself about the pace of India’s progress, or by providing excuses for our political representatives, but by being honest with ourselves and demanding more answers from our political leaders.
Pathaan was unsettling in invoking militaristic violence in the unquestioning service of a Bharat Mata where the humanity of India’s people was largely absent. Jawan recalls an Indian nationalism where the diverse humanity of India’s people is evoked, a nationalism motivated by empathy and justice for the Indian people, driven by honest national self-appraisal and the democratic spirit of demanding accountability from those entrusted to build a better India.
To be sure, in cautiously focussing on socio-economic issues, Jawan side-steps the grave political problems facing India: The degradation of democracy through manufactured personality cults and centralised political power, the erosion of institutional checks and balances, the politicisation of the press, and disempowering of civil society, to name a few. It would have hit the bull’s eye had it mustered the intelligence or courage to subtly add a scene signalling the need for India’s citizens to raise questions about these critical political problems harming the Indian nation too. But perhaps that is too much to ask for presently. Nevertheless, one hopes SRK is back, and that Jawan is only a gateway to a fuller revival of the older Indian nationalism SRK once represented, and that we used to witness so often on the big screen.
The writer is Research Fellow, ICAS:MP, and Associate Research Fellow, Multiple Secularities Project, University of Leipzig
