Directed by the state

Published July 30, 2013

-Illustration by Khuda Bux Abro
-Illustration by Khuda Bux Abro
Throughout history, films have been used extensively for purposes ranging from pure entertainment to wholly pedagogical.

Governments, political parties and states have widely used film, and other art forms to propound their ideology, and to exclude all dissent from their respective realms. They did this through censorship, and legislative measures, intending to ensure that the creative sections of the populace did not use their works to commit sedition. In Pakistan, the state has used cinema to effectively control the thinking, and creative processes of the public in order to suppress dissent. This was particularly the case during the Ayub, Bhutto, and Zia governments, which coincided with the heydays of Pakistani cinema. But sometimes, a creative person may make a conscious decision to propagate the state’s ideology and policies in his or her creative works without any intervention from the latter. In this case, it may be that the artist believes wholeheartedly in the state’s beliefs – an evidently rare case of complete unanimity between the state and the public – and thus use his or her creativity to propagate the state ideology.

I.A. Rehman states in his article “The Story of Pakistani Cinema” that in the 1950s, the Pakistani film industry was severely neglected by the newly-formed state (4), as at that time, both the government, and the urban planners in Karachi were focused on rehabilitating and resettling the refugees from India. This continued in Field Marshal Ayub Khan’s regime (1958-69). But along with the resettlement issue, Khan’s government also became concerned with the question of national identity and integration. In order to achieve this, Khan and his military government soon realised that cinema was a crucial tool that would enable them to reach out to the public (Simone Wille; Kamran Asdar Ali). So in order to produce a more homogenous cultural and national identity, the regime began to invest heavily in cinema, art, and literature (Rehman 5). These government attempts resulted in the establishment of the National Press Trust, as well as the Pakistan Writer’s Guild (Ali). Initially, many creative artists were really appreciative of these efforts, but it soon became evident that the government meant to control their creative processes through these measures, and mold them in accordance with the government’s policies and ideology (Rehman 5).

For example, the Ayub Khan regime produced numerous documentaries that were aimed at promoting the regime, with Nai Kiran (A New Ray of Light) being the most famous. Nai Kiran painted Khan in a heroic light, making him out to be a ‘hero’ who eradicated corrupt politicians, and therefore saved the nation. All cinemas were required to display the documentary free of charge for at least a week. The documentary was released in Urdu, Bengali, Sindhi, Pashto, and Punjabi (Wille).

-Illustration by Khuda Bux Abro
-Illustration by Khuda Bux Abro
At the same time, the regime’s policies and ideology regarding homogeneity of culture and identity were fictionalised in the 1968 release Behen Bhai (not financed by the state), a fictional tale of a mother, and her five children (four boys and a girl) who get separated while migrating to the new state of Pakistan during Partition, and are reunited many years later in Karachi. One child is taken in by a physician, while another is taken in by a courtesan; one brother and sister end up in a rural area, while the last child is taken in by a gang of criminals. Each child grows up to imbibe the distinct ethnic mannerisms, as well as becoming part of the different social classes in Karachi.

Similarly, the widower physician and his grown-up daughter take in the mother, who then develops a brother-sister relationship with her benefactor, who symbolises a father figure of the nation, with a daughter and a sister. Therefore, the film made heavy use of symbolism to give out the message to the audience that despite all the ethnic, religious, and linguistic differences between the people living in Pakistan, everyone was essentially the same because they were all children of the same mother, i.e. the nation (Ali). The fact that Behen Bhai was not financed by the state, and yet addresses the issues that the Ayub regime was so intent on propagating at that time indicates that the makers of Behen Bhai genuinely believed in the themes and ideas addressed in the film. Therefore, one can consider the film an example of filmmakers consciously propagating the government’s ideology, not because the regime intervened and forced them to do so, but because they really did believe in it.

After Ayub left and Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto arrived on the political scene, instances of state intervention in national cinema decreased enormously. But it was only a matter of years until it began again, and this time not only the cinema was affected, but so were the press, literature, theatre and art.

General Ziaul Haq – after ousted Bhutto in 1977 and assuming power – implemented his ‘Islamisation’ policies, which included heavy-handed censorship policies for both entertainment and press sections of the mass media.

However, the Zia regime perceived cinema as merely a business, but simultaneously recognised its capacity to distract the masses from mischief (which, for Zia, was democracy). Thus, promoting cinema did not contradict Zia’s ‘Islamisation’ policy, and related ordinances. But then, the regime was so acutely aware of the possibility that cinema could help to produce an anti-government sentiment amongst the people. So after Ziaul Haq had passed the zakat and Hudood ordinances, he went on to tackle the issue of creating dissent through cinema in 1979 with the Motion Picture Ordinance (Rehman 6), which severely curbed the freedom of creative expression in Pakistan.

A well-known Pakistani actor, Usman Peerzada, who was working in the industry during Zia’s regime, derided some of the stringent conditions of the Ordinance as “defeat[ing] [all] common sense” (qtd. in Haroon Khalid). Peerzada elaborated by giving some examples of the prerequisites prescribed by the Ordinance. For example, it was forbidden for women to be portrayed onscreen wearing red, while a boy and a girl could not be portrayed as being present in a room without a chaperone, whether they were married or unmarried. He further explained that filmmakers had to figure out ways to work around all these requirements in order to make films, which obviously produced an adverse effect on the Pakistani film industry. In the end, bribery became the only way that the local filmmakers could successfully circumvent all these conditions prescribed by the Motion Picture Ordinance.

Consequently, censorship during the Zia regime reached new heights, helped by the Motion Picture Ordinance. It was used by an excessively moralistic censor board to reject films for a myriad of reasons. The censor board had existed previously, but it had hardly been involved with the creative aspects of filmmaking. The state used its harsh censorship laws to promote specific messages. For example, Jamil Dehlavi’s The Blood of Hussain – a tale of the youngest son of a Pakistani family that struck parallels with Imam Hussain, and his struggles against Yazid, and the Karbala incident – was banned by the Zia regime, and thus could not be released for public viewing in cinemas in Pakistan. In February 1981, the film was released on British television. The film not only made explicit symbolic allusions to the Karbala incident, but also portrayed the lead character Hussain as the leader of an uprising against a fictional military government (an allusion to the Zia regime).

Therefore, it is unsurprising that the censor board banned the film in Pakistan. One’s awareness of the policies and ideology propagated by the Zia regime makes it rather obvious what made it ban Dehlavi’s film. This can be considered propaganda through censorship, as the Zia regime managed to prevent any possible dissent in the country by keeping the public away from an important film (which the regime considered as seditious) in terms of content and concept.

Many years later, former president General (retd) Pervez Musharraf introduced the ‘Enlightened Moderation’ policy, which was designed to promote a softer image of Pakistan, Muslims, and Islam to the West, and meant to counter the Western perception of the country as a breeding ground for militancy, conservatism, and a place where the arts are discouraged, and women and minorities deprived of basic rights (Razvi 59).

In 2007 came the first truly high-quality film out of the Pakistani film industry after almost two decades. Khuda Kay Liye – written, directed and produced by Shoaib Mansoor – was released, and took the national and international audiences by storm. It was truly a whiff of fresh air after the stale, and substandard cinematic fare that the Pakistani film industry had offered local audiences since the late 80s. Mansoor’s film possessed a well-written script, and told a poignant tale of ordinary Pakistanis living in Lahore, and in the West in the post 9/11 political climate, all combined with exemplary acting, directing, cinematography, and a memorable soundtrack.

However, it was still a form of propaganda that was not exactly subtle. In the post 9/11 era, numerous novels like The Reluctant Fundamentalist were written by Pakistani writers, to which Mansoor’s film bears much resemblance, especially in context of the themes discussed in both. Therefore, his film is an example of an obvious propaganda of Musharraf’s ‘Enlightened Moderation’, but without any evident signs of state intervention.

Over the years, the presence of ideological propaganda in Pakistani cinema has contributed towards its decline, particularly when the state intervened with harsh censorship policies, like during the Zia regime. It has continued to intervene in a similar manner as the censor board continues to use its Zia-era policies, and laws to decide which films would be allowed to be displayed at cinemas across the nation, and which would be prohibited from public viewings. Propagating of the state’s policies and ideology in Pakistani films without any state intervention has also been quite a norm throughout the history of Pakistani film industry, and this has been condoned by the censor board who understandably allowed these films for public viewing because they were entirely in line with its policies. Meanwhile, films like The Blood of Hussain have been banned from being publicly displayed for dissenting with the government policies of 1980s, through what is known as propaganda through censorship. On the other hand, films like Khuda Kay Liye reflect a complete unanimity between the beliefs held by the state and the individual filmmaker.

References:

Ali, Kamran Asdar. “Cinema and the city: The Ayub years.” Books & Authors 5 May, 2013: n. pag. Print.

Razvi, Murtaza. Musharraf: The Years in Power. New Delhi: HarperCollins India, 2009. Print.

Rehman, I.A. “The Story of Pakistani Cinema.” The Review. 11-17 December, 1997: pp. 4-6. Print.

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