Dear Friends,

We are resuming our Fascism Alert series after a brief gap - on
public demand, especially from certain progressive newsgroups based in
the US.

This edition brings you a review of Mani Ratnam's "Bombay", a film that
many of us innocently took to be a forceful plea for communal harmony.
Javed Anand and Teesta Setalvad, co-editors of the monthly journal
"Communalism Combat" (published from Bombay), tell us why such an
interpretation of the film would be a serious mistake.

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Cry Bombay

Javed Anand and Teesta Setalvad

No democratic-minded person can have much sympathy for the
"Islamic" objections to Mani Ratnam's film Bombay raised by the
conservative fringe of the Muslim community. Media and the
intelligentsia have rightly defended the principle of freedom of
creative expression and raised their collective voice against the
demand for the banning of the film.
But the facile nature of the Muslim uproar to the fiction part
of Ratnam's story has, very unfortunately, shifted public
attention away from the director and script-writer's shocking
cannibalising of truth in the fact part of his Bombay.
It would be evident from a review of newsreports and editorial
comments, in the national and the international print and
electronic media -- CNN, BBC, New York Times included -- that
when, at the instigation of Shiv Sena chief, Bal Thackeray,
Bombay's Muslims were subjected to a citywide pogrom, the police
acted in a blatantly partisan manner while the government looked
the other way.
In his research work before producing Bombay, Mani Ratnam
personally spent days talking to social activists and journalists
from the metropolis who had been witness to the carnage while
trying to douse communal flames or reporting from the field. But
the end product of his research is a film which fully endorses
Thackeray's position that the victim is the accused -- Bombay's
Muslims are to be blamed for their own butchery.
It is no one's argument that some groups of hot-heads among
Muslims are also not guilty of having targeted innocent Hindus in
Muslim majority areas of the city both in December 1992 and
January 1993. But this can hardly be an excuse to shroud the far,
far uglier reality of a carefully conceived and ruthlessly
executed pogrom against an entire community for the crimes of a
few.
Mani Ratnam's brazen manipulation of facts, selectively chosen
and skillfully dressed up in slick fiction, robs a traumatised
community, in particular, and honest citizens, in general, of
even their authentic memory of a massacre which has gone
unpunished. This is the serious charge of which Ratnam stands
accused, not the frivolous grievances raised by narrow minds.
Inspired by Ratnam's fiction-"fact" which is nothing short of a
violence against history shrouded in a romantic recipe for
communal peace, we offer here a story which could be scripted for
producing another film -- on the working of Ratnam's mind. It is
an entirely fictitious account revolving around a not-so-obvious
Ratnam-Thackeray nexus but which does no violence to the truth
behind the savagery in India's premier city:
Shiv Sena pramukh and "Hinduhridaysamrat", Bal Thackeray is a
very angry even if not-so-young man. It is not for nothing that
some of his admirers refer to him adoringly as the Amitabh
Bachchan of Indian politics.
That the same Amitabh Bachchan has taken upon himself the burden of
distributing Mani Ratnam's Bombay may or may not be an
interesting coincidence. But since this is not a story to be
told in flashback we must begin from the beginning by asking the
question: Balasaheb ko gussa kyon aata hai ?
The answer is simple: The Sena chief is convinced, and so are
many Hindus of Bombay, that in the critical months of December,
1992 and January 1993, Muslim mobs armed to the teeth with hi-
tech weapons provided by Pakistan (who else?) would have
butchered Hindus in the city had he not ordered his Sainiks to
"retaliate" and thus "taught the Muslims a lesson".
But his problem is that the "anti-Hindu", "pseudo-secular"
national press, most eminent citizens of Bombay and even the
international media holds him guilty of master-minding a pogrom
against Muslims. They also accuse the police for having sided
with his Sainiks and blame the state government for not acting
against him.
Thackeray without doubt has won the battle on the streets.
Whether in December 1992 or in January, 1993, the overwhelming
majority of victims in terms of loss of life and property are
Muslims.
But he is unhappy for e has lost the war of the mind.
In public memory, in newspaper files and documentary film
archives across the globe, in the findings of a people's tribunal
headed by two retired judges of the Bombay High Court (People's Verdict),
in the testimony of another retired judge of the same
court, Justice Bakhtawar Lentin before Prime Minister Narasimha
Rao during the latter's visit to the city ("In the last few days,
the streets of Bombay have resembled the streets of Nazi
Germany"), in the record of the depositions before the
officially-appointed Srikrishna Commission to probe into the
Bombay riots, and even thanks to his own interview to Time
magazine ("Have the Muslims behaved like the Jews of Germany? If
so, there is nothing wrong if they are treated as Jews were in
Nazi Germany"), Thackeray remains the man who is guilty of
instigating mass crime against Muslims.
Since respectability is a commodity which even a criminal
seeks, the Shiv Sena chief has a serious problem on his mind -- How
to counter mountains of damning evidence? In the pages of
Saamna, a party mouthpiece which the Sena chief himself edits,
Thackeray always appears as a saint. But what is one newspaper
with limited reach against the verdict of the national and the
international free press, eminent Bombayites and retired judges
of the Bombay High Court?
A film which can reach millions of people is an obvious answer.
But what kind of a film? A doctored documentary surely will not
do. Nor will a feature film carry conviction if it fails to go
beyond the crude propaganda of Saamna's headlines. What is needed
is a slick package with all the trappings of a box-office hit
where the Sena-line on the Bombay riots can be transmitted
subliminally to an already hooked audience.
Enter Mani Ratnam of Roja fame. Roja, it may be recalled, was a
huge hit with film-viewers all over India, irrespective of caste
and community. But, ironically, in the pages of the prestigious
journal, Economic and Political Weekly, atleast five incisive
analyses of the film in the last one year have argued that
Ratnam's nationalism "bordering on fascism" is laced with an
inherent anti-Islam bias.
What better candidate, then, to execute a white-wash job on
Thackeray's behalf?
Our story does not propose any collusion between
Thackeray and Ratnam in the production of `Bombay'. All that is
being suggested is a meeting of minds.
If this seems too harsh a judgment of Ratnam, see for yourself
the Hindi version of Bombay before jumping to conclusions. It is
a film which must be seen (one of the reasons why we oppose the
banning of the film) because, remember, Thackeray says it is "a
damn good film". Saamna has specially recommended the film for
Muslims so that they learn from Mani Ratnam how the community
only paid for its own sins in Bombay.
The first half of the film, except for the last few minutes, is
pure fiction. Shekhar (Arvind Swamy), a rebel in his own right
who has just begun his career as a journalist with the Bombay
edition of the Indian Express, returns to his tradition-bound
village in south India on holiday.
Chance brings him face-to-face with Shailabano (Manisha
Koirala), a ravishing, burqa-clad Muslim girl. Its not just love
at first sight, Shekhar can no longer concieve of life without
his new-found love. Fortunately for him, his sentiments are
reciprocated in abundant measure by Shaila; all that stands
between the smitten couple is strong parental resistence from
both sides.
The problem is easily resolved with the Hindu boy walking out
on his family, returning to Bombay, his Muslim lover escaping
from her family and joining his soon afterwords. A civil marriage
follows and before long the couple are blessed with twins.
Manisha looks gorgeous in the film and, as has come to be
expected from every Mani Ratnam film, music is good; the
cinematography breathtaking. Having lapped up Ratnam's sumptious
filmi offering in the highly romantic first half, the
unsuspecting audience is bound to swallow almost anything that
follows.
The love birds would perhaps have continued to live happily
thereafter but the fact of the Bombay riots following the
demolition of the Babri Masjid intrudes into the fictional bliss
of a forbidden love.
But before proceeding further, we make note of the fact that
the bulk of conservative Muslim objection to the film has to do
with the fictional first-half, long before the Babri Masjid is
razed. The objections have been such as to invite ridicule not
only from others but even a vast majority of Muslims (See box).
Curiously enough, the thing most objectionable in the first half
of the film is the one thing that the Muslim objectors have
totally failed to notice. It has to do with how Ratnam has chosen
to portray the fathers of the Hindu boy and the Muslim girl.
Narayan, the boy's father is a cantankerous man but he fights
all his battles with words. The girl's father, a brick kiln
owner, on the other hand, picks up his sword repeatedly in the
film and at the slightest provocation.
Long before the Muslims are shown engaging in gory violence
after the demolition of the mosque, we are fed with repeated
images of the violent Muslim. If this is not a sub-conscious
message of the Muslim as inherently violent, what else is Ratnam
doing?
We move on to the last few minutes of the first half of Bombay
when the fictional romance is rudely interrupted by violent
facts.
The Babri Masjid is shown, still standing, in a freeze frame
while newspaper headlines remind film viewers of its demolition.
But the reaction of Muslim mobs to the vandalism in Ayodhya is
depicted in true-to-life, bloody detail.
It was Muslim mobs, no doubt, who first took to the streets in
several minority-predominant parts of the city after hearing news
of the demolition in Ayodhya. But, while reports in all national
dailies of the period had a different story to tell, in Ratnam's
account of the period, Muslims alone were responsible for all the
murder and mayhem in December 1992.
A police constable is shown being lynched by a Muslim mob, but
there is nothing to even hint at the felling of 140 Muslims by
police bullets over four days between December 6 and 9. There was
no lathi-charge, no tear-gas, no firing in the air, no aiming
below the waist. Nor is there even the faintest suggestion of the
ghantanad (ringing of temple bells to celeberate the destruction
of the Babri Masjid), ceremonies and the victory processions, in
several parts of Bombay, on the evening of December 6 itself or
the targeting of Muslims in Hindu predominant areas from December
7 onwards.
The worst act of Muslim bestiality, from the standpoint of
the audience, is of course the unsuccessful attempt to set aflame
the twins born out of inter-communal love, Kabir Narayan and
Kamal Basheer.
The film stops here for the interval so that while sipping tea
or a cold drink, the audience can ponder over how much more
violent the Muslims can get. And return to see the same
aggressors killing and burning Hindus to start the next round of
riots in January.
On January 6, 1993, exactly a month after the demolition in
Ayodhya, the Sena-BJP fraternity announced their plan to
intensify their agitation of maha aartis outside temples, a
programme which was launched on December 22, 1992 itself. The
avowed purpose : "to recapture the streets for Hindus and to put
an end to the policy of appeasement of the Muslim minority".
"Our maha aartis outside temples, blocking traffic for an hour
each day," it was announced, "will continue until the jumma
(Friday) namaaz outside mosques in the city is stopped".
It is evident from even the deposition of police officers
before the Srikrishna Commission that the maha artis were held in
clear violation of curfew orders and the participants resorted to
violence immediately afterwards in several cases.
But that is not Ratnam's idea of what the maha artis were all
about. For him, they were nothing more than peaceful visits to
temples by devotees with nothing but piety on their minds. As if
to emphasise the peaceful intent, Shekhar's father Narayan, an
old man, attends one of these maha artis along with his
grandchild, Kamal, who is hardly a few years old.
The two are quietly returning home when they are cornered by a
group of Muslims ready to kill. If Narayan and his grandchild
survive the encounter it is only thanks to Shaila's father,
Basheer Ahmed, who tells the mob that Narayan is his elder
brother.
(Before Basheer makes his providential appearance in the nick of
time, seeing the Muslim mob, Kamal quickly wipes the tika from his
own and his grandfather's forehead to disguise their Hindu identity.
It is of course a different matter that in real life Bombay in
January 1993, friendly and well-intentioned Hindus throughout
Bombay removed all nameplates from their building entrances to
help conceal the presence of Muslims in their midst from Sainik
hordes on the hunt.
There were also numerous instances of Muslims shaving off their
beards to conceal their identity. Many a Muslim woman escaped the
violence unleashed on her basti only by a "bindi" quickly applied
on her forehead. Many Hindus who sported a beard because they
liked it shaved so as not be mistaken for a Muslim).
But the character of Basheer's co-religionists and the "wierd
nature" of his faith (Islam) would soon claim Narayan's life
besides his own. Soon after the maha arti episode, a Muslim mob,
obviously obsessed with roasting Hindus alive, torches Shekhar
and Shaila's home.
(Parental concern having got the better of their objection to
the inter-communal marriage, the December disturbances in Bombay
ad brought both Narayan and Basheer (along with wife) rushing to
their children).
Every member of the family pitches in in a frantic bid to put
out the flames. Except for Basheer. Engrossed in reading the
Quran, he is totally oblivious to the fire raging all around him
endangering every member of the family, himself included.
When its clear that the fire is about to engulf all of them, a
decision is taken to abandon the home. The homeless family is on
the verge of fleeing to safety but Shaila screams at the last
moment that her father, Basheer, is still inside the closing
circle of fire.
At great risk to himself, Narayan rushes inside only to find
Basheer still lost in the pages of Quran. Narayan shakes Basheer
out of his reverie (stupor?), tells him to rush and in a grand
gesture which presumably symbolises Hinduism's respect for all
religions, takes the Quran in his custody for safe passage.
Its all too late, unfortunately. The gas cylinder bursts and
that spells the tragic end of Narayan, Basheer and his wife. All
of them would have survived but for Basheer and his Islam.
Something about Islam obviously bothers Mani Ratnam a great deal.
(See page 11 for a near-identical depiction of a Kashmiri Muslim
praying in his earlier film, Roja).
The stickler for facts that he pretends to be, Ratnam does not
forget to portray the killing of mathadi workers allegedly by
Muslims -- so that the viewer is not confused about cause and
effect, he is careful to put a date, January 5, 1993 on the
incident -- and the roasting alive of a Hindu family in Radhabai
chawl in Jogeshwari.
Ratnam is apparently also concerned about keeping a "communal
balance" in his film even if it means taking liberty with facts.
So, to balance the role of Thackeray in the facts portion of his
film, he creates a fictitious, bearded, fire-breathing Muslim
Maulana. A pure product of his imagination, the Muslim rabble-
rouser is far more rabid than the Sena supremo.
In a blatant travesty of truth, it is not Thackeray but the
bearded Muslim leader, whoever he be, who issues the call to
arms. All that the Sena chief, who looks like a saint in
comparison to the imaginary Muslim, asks is, "Where do they
(Muslims) get their arms from?" Pakistan obviously!
Marauding Hindu mobs led by Shiv Sainiks, for well over a week
in January and armed with electoral rolls that revealed the
religious identity of a person and location of his property, went
for the Muslim in every nook and corner of the city for a week in
January 1993. Ratnam is content to depict them in gentle and
distant soft focus, the saffron bands tied on their forehead
being the only distinguishing factor. Sharp, close-up scenes of
arson and murderous assault, however, always show the topi-clad
Muslims as the aggressor.
Curiously, Ratnam's Bombay ignores many actual incidents in in
the city in December 1992- January 1993 which should have been
obvious temptation for a film-maker concerned with realism to
create powerful images on celluloid.
For example:
*Round-the-clock vigil by innumerable groups of non-Muslims in
their neighbourhood, for several weeks in many cases, to protect
Muslims living in their midst.
*A city journalist (Teesta Setalvad) intercepting police wireless
messages which incontrovertibly points to prejudice against
Muslims. The tapes were considered indicting enough for the
journaslist to be interviewed by CNN, Eyewitness and Newstrack.
The same evidence was featured by BBC radio and was splashed by
newspapers nationally and worldwide by the New York Times among
others.
*Top industrialists, Ratan Tata and Keshab Mahindra calling on
chief minister Sudhakarrao Naik to demand urgent action against
Thackeray. This is the only way to stop the murder and mayhem in
the city, they argue. "If I arrest Thackeray, Bombay will burn,"
says a helpless Naik. But he has nothing to add when told that
Bombay is already burning in any case.
*As part of a delegation of prominent citizens of Bombay who met
Prime Minister Narasimha Rao during his visit to the city, the
highly respected retired judge of the Bombay High Court, Justice
Lentin, bemoaning the fact that for the last few days "the
streets of Bombay have resembled the streets of Nazi Germany".
* Two other retired judges of the Bombay High Court, Justices
Hosbet Suresh and Dawood move from one part of the city to
another soon after thr riots as citizens depose before them.
Their finding is a severe indictment of the Shiv Sena, the Bombay
police and the state government.
*In his infamous `Kick them out' interview given to Time
magazine, Thackeray thundering, "Have they (Muslims) behaved like
the Jews in Nazi Germany? If so, there is nothing wrong if they
are treated as Jews were in Nazi Germany."
*Over-crowded railway terminals as tens of thousands of
Muslims and even non-Maharashtrian Hindus waited for days to flee
from the cosmopolitan capital of India.
*The Muslim residents of Pratikshanagar being held as hostage by
their Hindu neighbours. Old peope, women, children and men
rendered homeless and kept on the streets for three days and
three nights by their own Hindu neighbours of decades. Even army
jawans who finally went to the rescue as the local police station
could not be bothered were stoned by Hindu residents.
Why did Ratnam ignore such cinematically rich and factually
compelling possibilities? The answer is simple: he would then
have to change the essential thrust of his story. His film,
Bombay, would then be forced to portray Muslims not as the prime
instigators of a "communal riot" but the victims of a pogrom
directed against them.
Besides, that is not the kind of a film that Thackeray would
have liked. We repeat, we are not talking of a conspiracy between
Thackeray and Ratnam in the production of Bombay. But we do
believe that Ratnam could have done no better if he started his
work on the film after an actual deal with the Sena boss.
Ratnam claims that his film is about communal harmony. But when
has the RSS or the Shiv Sena ever claimed it wants riots. The
problem for Ratnam, as for the RSS and the Shiv Sena are Muslims,
the ones always responsible for starting a riot, forcing Hindus
to retaliate in self-defence.
Our story, though pure fiction, may be challenged on the ground
that Thackeray was the first one to express his displeasure
against Bombay and even threatened that "my boys will see to it"
unless he is accorded the privilege of a super-censor. There are
two things to be said in response to such an objection: one, we
have merely suggested a meeting of minds, not a direct collusion;
two, it must not be forgotten that a twist in the tale makes a
storyline more exciting, not less.