TheDaak review

Book: Reading the muslim on celluloid: Bollywood, Representation and Politics by Roshni Sengupta, Primus Books, New Delhi, 2020, 340 pp., ₹1250.00, ISBN : 978-93-89850-87-1

by Ishtiaq Ahmed Shauq

“You don’t need to be a voice for the voiceless. Just pass the mic.”- Dr Su’ad Abdul Khabeer

Dr Su’ad Abdul Khabeer, an academic, tweeted this a few years ago. She called for individuals or groups with privilege and power to step back and allow marginalised groups to speak for themselves. Moreover, it acknowledges that some people can speak more easily and loudly than others, and that this can create imbalances in who gets heard and who is silenced. Therefore, access to the mic is central to the politics of representation. There is every possibility that someone’s representation may be partially or fully defined by the politics of the mic holder. Due to the limited scope of this review, it is not possible to delve into the specifics of what representation entails. However, it is sufficient to mention that ‘mic’ as a metaphor may be construed as a text, an image, a film, or any other form of representation that seeks to speak for the object of representation. 

After the advent of the modern age, the scale of representation has become wider and more expansive. We have progressed from ancient forms of representation like petroglyphs and hieroglyphics to artistic forms like painting, and finally to modern forms including photography and film,  leading to even newer forms of representation through digital technology. With this background in mind, can one claim that such historical developments have finally led to an era where it is genuinely possible to represent something or someone? There have also been debates on whether mystic or poetic experiences can be translated into words. Some people argue that such experiences are ineffable. The famous case of Mansūr Hallaj’s execution for saying “I am the truth” is reflective of the dangers of representing the ineffable through language. Similarly, the representation, in any form – textual, pictorial, or cinematic,  of a person, a group or a community, isn’t an easy task. Roshni Sengupta has painstakingly presented a detailed account of how Muslims— “the socially (and politically) marginalised group”, have been represented in popular Hindi films (Bollywood films), particularly produced in the turbulent decades of the 1990s and 2000s (specifically from 1991 to 2012).

On the one hand, there is an inherent limitation of the media of representation; on the other hand, there is a possibility of construction, contortion, and distortion in the process of representation. Moreover, as Sengupta writes, “The phenomenon of representation does not stand for something given in society.” (p. 33). She quotes Brian Seitz, who argues  “representation is itself ‘constitutive’ of the subject of representation.” (p.  33). Therefore, there is no objective reality of Muslims to be represented through the medium of cinema, rather, the subject of representation (Muslims in this case) is constructed to either create certain narratives, or fit the newly created entities into some already existing discourses.

The first chapter provides clarity on various definitions of cinema, which is very helpful for  non-connoisseurs. It explains in detail the question of representation in cinema, and how the scholarship has evolved around various approaches to representation in cinema. Sengupta attempts to highlight whether cinema ‘has an essence’ which is ‘mediated by ontology’ and goes beyond ‘lexicology and social history’ . Relying on Trevor Ponech’s definition of cinema, she affirms that cinema is a ‘public concept’ with which people engage, take part in it, and share it; and it is “a mental item which sorts external objects, states of affairs, or events.” (p. 30). After a thorough perusal of various theories and the varied perspectives on what constitutes cinema, she defines it thus: “cinema is a medium of communication involving moving images where content remains the mainstay of the film genre and it is this key distinguishing factor that differentiates cinema from several other forms of art.” (p. 33).

Sengupta divides the representation of Muslims in Bollywood into four categories: the Muslim in Empire cinema, the Muslim in Partition cinema, the Muslim in Islamicate cinema, and the Muslim in the non-Islamicate cinema. She argues that empire cinema, produced in the colonial period, constructed the notion of ‘Muslim menace’. Citing an example from the British film The Drum, she argues that this film “constructed a Muslim identity as communal, depicted Muslims as fundamentalist, backward and anti-national.” (p. 86) Moreover, she affirms that Muslims are depicted as “overtly religious, blood thirsty hordes of convoluted souls, plunged to the depths of depravity” (p. 88) in Western cinema. Relying on Marshall Hodgson’s invention of the concept of Islamicate, she defines Islamicate cinema as the cinema which “refers to the social and cultural complex historically associated with Islam and the Muslims” (p. 91) and not directly to the religion or the religious belief. She argues that music genres associated with Muslims, like ghazal and qawwali, reflect Islamicate influence on Hindi cinema. Mehboob Khan is described as the greatest Muslim director who has directed Muslim socials like Najma and Elaan. Sengupta argues that his ‘cinematic ventures’ make a clear statement of “the urgent need for the emancipation of the Muslims of India.” (p. 91). She argues that the Islamicate films “show a variety of clothing that is regarded as appropriate for Muslims to wear in the Mughal court in the presence of the courtesan in the kotha” (p. 92). She construes this as the ‘signature portrayal’ of women in some popular Islamicate films. The Partition cinema focussed on highlighting human miseries (Garam Hawa) more than anything else. Moreover, as she has brilliantly articulated, “the symbolism of freedom is almost entirely punctuated by a sense of loss and deep sadness.” (p. 89). The non-Islamicate cinema, she argues, has   presented   the   Muslim   as   the   ‘Other’.   She   argues   that   films like Bombay (1995) constructed this image of the ‘Other’, wherein a hierarchical structure of society is presented, in which the Muslim family is lower in the hierarchy as compared to its Hindu counterpart.

Sengupta has majorly focussed on Muslim representation in the films produced in the period 1991-2012. As she has mentioned, this period was full of “great communal churning” (p. 267), which also resulted in ‘fluctuations’ and ‘volatility’ in the representation of Muslims. The decade of the1990s witnessed the Babri demolition and political mobilisation based on majoritarian politics. Consequently, Muslims were represented as violent, aggressive, and communal. In the following decade, Muslims were represented as fully committed to their religious cause as well as individuals not fully loyal to their nation. She has highlighted that films in the post-independence period have tried to contribute to the process of ‘nation-building’ and “Constructing a culturally unified nation.” (p. 90). Therefore, the representation of a minority group is very much linked to the process of constituting a nation. In the same decade, she contends, Muslims were also represented as “meticulous, intelligent and sharp, owing allegiance to global terror networks.” (p. 267). The representation of Muslims as terrorists and ‘prone to violence’ is mostly visible in the post-Babri period. However, Sengupta asserts that a majority of the Muslim characters in these films are not terrorists. She maintains that alongside the negative portrayals of Muslims, there is also “positive stereotyping” of Muslims, in films like A Wednesday, Aamir, etc. 

There is also a difference in the post-Babri and the post-9/11 period, in terms of the characterisation of Muslim terrorists in these films. In the first decade, the terrorist is represented as “a victim of targeted communal violence, state apathy and injustice” (p. 218). While in the post-9/11 period, the representation follows the American cinema wherein the terrorist is represented as “suave and sophisticated international terrorist and weapons expert, the nationality of whom is not always revealed to the audience, but whose cold-blooded character stands him apart from his counterparts in the 1990s.” (p. 218). Moreover, there are two more significant forms of representation of the Muslim which emerged in this decade: first is the secularised Indian Muslim or the ideal positive Muslim, who is celebrated for his role in the project of nation-building. On the other hand, there is also a representation of the ‘violent Muslim’ (Gangs of Wasseypur) whose violence isn’t inspired by religion or beholden to the community. Sengupta’s main idea is that popular Bollywood films no doubt present a negative portrayal of the Muslim. However, there is also a ‘balancing out’ wherein there is an unmistakable presence of positive Muslims in almost all the narrative structures where there is a presence of the negative Muslims. Moreover, these films not only ‘balance out’ the negative portrayal with the positive one, but also emphasise a victory of the positive Muslim over the negative Muslim.

The book is a labyrinth of complex arguments as Sengupta has provided a detailed review of academic literature on the themes of cinema and representation. At times, her own arguments become overshadowed by the dominating presence of the views of so many scholars whose work she has reviewed, which makes it a difficult read for the common reader. A detailed discussion of the emerging trends of Islamophobia could have enriched the book further. However, anyone interested in cinema must go through this very well-researched book to know more about the debates on communalism, notions of cinematic representation, and how the politics and culture of society impacts film-making. Although she has not explicitly dealt with this question, one gets an idea of why  the likes of Rahat Fateh Ali Khans and Atif Aslams are not found in India anymore. To conclude, there is enough evidence that majoritarianism has its hold on the mic, and it will not be passed on to the Muslims anytime soon.

©TheDaak2023