Explained: This article explains the political background, key decisions, and possible outcomes related to Explained : How Indian Cinema Has Become a Patriotism Test – The Diplomat and Its Impact and why it matters right now.
Indian cinema has morphed from entertainment into a potent vehicle for a new kind of “patriotism.” What’s changed is not the existence of controversy around movies — that has always been there — but the way controversy itself now acts as a litmus test of loyalty. Appreciation or criticism of a movie is no longer interpreted primarily as an aesthetic or ethical judgment; it has increasingly become a marker of allegiance or opposition to the state — more precisely, to the Hindu nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP)-led government at the center.
The recent debate around the movie “Dhurandhar” (Stalwart) captures this shift. “Dhurandhar’s” story unfolds in Pakistan and its main characters are Pakistanis. The film is about an Indian spy who infiltrates the gang of Rehman Dakait, a powerful Baloch warlord ruling the Pakistani port city of Karachi. Through this deep-cover mission, he successfully dismantles the ISI-underworld nexus, effectively destroying the terror and criminal infrastructure within Pakistan.
The movie shows that the muscular foreign policy under Prime Minister Narendra Modi, combined with National Security Advisor Ajit Doval’s strategic approach of neutralizing enemies on their own soil, has made the Indian counter-terrorism approach more successful.
Bollywood made films with an India-Pakistan storyline in the past as well. But earlier, the main patriotic theme focused on the sacrifice and bravery of Indian soldiers, in which Muslim and Sikh characters were mandatory.
Then, in the early 2000s, amid the triumphalism over India’s victory in the Kargil War, came war movies like “Border” and “LOC: Kargil,” where a very subtly patriotic trend started drifting into an anti-Muslim narrative.
More recently, movies have turned overtly Islamophobic. In this regard, “The Kashmir Files” on the exodus of Kashmiri Pandits from Jammu and Kashmir in 1989-90, was a trend-setter. Following the success of this movie, others followed, including “The Kerala Story,” “The Bengal Files,” and “Udaipur Files.” But these bombed at the box office.
The recently released “Dhurandhar” is enjoying resounding success at the box office. A star-studded and big-budget film, it has not only sent cash registers ringing, but it has also triggered controversy both in India and Pakistan.
Critics argue that the film represents an unabashed endorsement of the present BJP government, blurring the line between patriotic cinema and ideological reinforcement.
In today’s highly polarized social media discourse, audiences, critics, and creators alike are pressured to declare their loyalties, and dissent is often recast as disloyalty. Those who praise a film aligned with the government’s ideological narrative are celebrated as “truthful” or “brave,” while those who question it are swiftly branded “anti-national” or hostile to cultural norms. The space for nuance — the idea that one can critique a policy without opposing the nation itself — is rapidly shrinking.
Film critic Anupama Chopra faced significant backlash online when she described “Dhurandhar” as an “exhausting, relentless and frenzied espionage thriller propelled by charismatic, murderous men, too much testosterone, shrill nationalism and inflammatory anti-Pakistan narratives.”
She was forced to take down her review after trolls accused her of being “anti-India and anti-army” and made derogatory comments about her being a woman. This reflects a broader pattern where female critics receive more personal abuse than their male counterparts.
There are parallels between developments in India today and the era of McCarthyism in the U.S. of the 1950s, where formal censorship was rarely necessary because fear itself became the governing mechanism. Senator Joseph McCarthy himself did not directly run Hollywood investigations; his rhetoric and the broader McCarthyite climate empowered institutions such as the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) to target filmmakers, actors, and writers to enforce ideological conformity.
While India is not experiencing a literal replay of 1950s-style U.S. blacklists, the parallels are evident. Filmmakers and actors critical of the government — such as Anurag Kashyap, Swara Bhaskar, and Taapsee Pannu — have faced targeted media vilification, online harassment, and income tax raids. This echoes the informal punishments of Cold War America.
The selective celebration of films aligned with the government’s ideology was perhaps most clearly seen in the case of “The Kashmir Files.” Endorsed by Prime Minister Narendra Modi and granted tax-free status by several BJP-ruled state governments, the film exemplifies how political support can transform a movie into a cultural and ideological instrument. Its commercial success was amplified not merely by audience interest but by state-backed legitimacy, signaling that alignment with the ruling party’s narrative is rewarded in very tangible ways.
Conversely, films or actors perceived as insufficiently aligned face swift and often disproportionate backlash. “Pathaan,” starring Shah Rukh Khan, offers a striking example. The film was subjected to boycott campaigns triggered by a trivialized moral outrage: the heroine’s saffron-colored bikini was framed as an insult to Hindu sensibilities. Despite the flimsy justification, the controversy gained traction online. Many BJP leaders openly called for the boycott of the film, clearly toeing the party line as Shah Rukh Khan hails from the minority community.
In simple terms, movies today are doing more than just picking sides; they are changing how stories are told to fit political agendas. In real life, nuclear physicist Homi Bhabha was challenged by Meghnad Saha, a noted physicist, who was Hindu. However, the web series “Rocket Boys” showed Bhabha’s rival to be a fictional Muslim character named Raza Mehdi.
“Rocket Boys” is a “crime on history,” Shekhar Gupta, a prominent Indian journalist and the editor-in-chief of The Print, wrote in his column. By making the antagonist a Muslim (who once supported the Muslim League), then a Communist (elected to the Lok Sabha), and finally a tool of the CIA and journalists, the series creators checked all the boxes of the “2022 triangle of evil,” Gupta wrote.
The Central Board of Film Certification (CBFC), India’s censor board, is another tool for controlling the narrative. Since 2014, its functioning has repeatedly drawn criticism for ideological bias, regulatory overreach, and selective intervention — especially in cases where a film deals with contemporary politics, state institutions, or a dissenting viewpoint. “The Kerala Story,” “The Bengal Files,” and “Udaipur Files,” which lacked star power and high production values, were box office duds.
With “Dhurandhar’s” success at the box office — it has grossed nearly $100.57 million so far — there are growing concerns that, major production houses may now increasingly turn to Dhurandhar clones because, unlike “The Kashmir Files” or “The Kerala Story” — which were relatively low-budget films with modest production values — “Dhurandhar” combines a multi-star cast, high-end cinematography, and foreign locations. This upscale spectacle makes such ideologically driven narratives more attractive to major production houses.
Under the guise of promoting patriotism and celebrating India’s war victories, such films may subtly advance the BJP’s political narrative, often accompanied by a subtle yet discernible anti-Muslim subtext.