https://sputniknews.in/20230703/what-tamil-films-on-caste-conflict-teach-us-about-india-2807508.html
What Tamil Films on Caste Conflict Teach Us About India
What Tamil Films on Caste Conflict Teach Us About India
Sputnik India
Mari Selvaraj is a name that is increasingly becoming popular in India. The 39-year-old Tamil filmmaker and writer is blunt enough to call a spade a spade when it comes to caste conflicts. While some in India deny the existence of continued caste profiling, Selvaraj does not stick his head in the sand.
2023-07-03T17:34+0530
2023-07-03T17:34+0530
2023-07-03T19:00+0530
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Mari Selvaraj is a name that is increasingly becoming popular in India. The 39-year-old Tamil filmmaker and writer is blunt enough to call a spade a spade when it comes to caste conflicts. While some in India deny the existence of continued caste profiling, Selvaraj does not stick his head in the sand.Tamilians have always had a special knack for highlighting social problems in their movies, and lately in a much more stark and provocative manner. This is perhaps a reflection of the state’s socio-political realities. In the whole of India, the state of Tamil Nadu in the south is looked up to as a hub of social-justice politics thanks to its tall leaders who pioneered what came to be known as the Dravidian movement.‘Periyar’ Ramaswamy in the beginning and CN Annadurai later are spearheads of an ideology that engendered the rise of Dravidian politics, which replaced all national parties, even of the Gandhian hue, and ended their electoral sway in the southern state. Even the communist parties had to play second fiddle to the mammoth, rival Dravidian parties that have between them ruled the state since 1967.From the outset, Dravidian politics was an anti-Brahminical entity, partly for the right reasons. After all, the Brahminical legacy is all about deeply entrenched caste hierarchies and inexcusable discrimination of man by man. It is a hugely dehumanizing ideology that thrived for centuries.Dravidian entities had a highly progressive past, a period that saw a profound social churning that altered the face of not only Tamil Nadu’s politics but also inspired disadvantaged people elsewhere to take up cudgels in the name of justice. The aim of its early leaders and supporters, many of whom had suffered caste-based discrimination themselves, was to strive to emancipate the poor and the marginalized and to build an equitable society. After snapping ties with Periyar over ideological differences, his successor CN Annadurai later modified and armed Tamil politics to suit the need of India’s federal structure. The leaders who succeeded them also left their mark in state politics and elsewhere as anti-caste crusaders.But there are holes in the Dravidian edifice through which rats sometimes worm their way inside, leading to rot.As the vigor of the revolutionary zeal slowly wore down, certain other harmful traditions that endured began to rear their heads. The intermediary, dominant communities who had found themselves freed from the yoke of Brahminism began to assert themselves to the extent of imitating their former oppressors, a mistake that we often witness in history.The middle communities in the caste hierarchy, more or less, refused to treat the most depressed caste groups as equal. And when the latter started to resist in the same spirit of emancipation championed by the likes of Periyar and Anna, they were treated with extreme bias by the backward, yet dominant castes. Political parties that had earlier taken up the cause of social justice and equality kept silent for the sake of political expediency.Several films have analyzed this paradox threadbare. Tensions between immediate caste groups in the hierarchy have been a dominant theme in many Tamil movies. Although such conflicts are common all over India and many caste groups routinely get edged out in society and politics in other states, too, no other film industry – other than the one based out of Tamil Nadu capital Chennai called Kollywood (a portmanteau for the words Kodambakkam, the Chennai neighborhood where most studios were based, and Hollywood) — has put the spotlight, with greater fervor, on pressing social issues as Tamil films have, especially in the past two decades.To my memory, the trend largely started off on the scale we witness now with Bharathi Kannamma (1997) and Iraniyan (1999) which were released in the late 1990s. Later, Paruthiveeran (2007), Pariyerum Perumal (2018), Asuran (2019), Magamuni (2019), Karnan (2021) all produced a genre that a critic once described as "thug" films. Whether one liked the brutal visuals in those films or not, they carried a strong message on caste hostilities, as well the necessity – and, in some cases, perhaps futility – of violence.Unlike Bollywood movies, in Kollywood, it is often the wronged party who takes up the task of retribution and seeks justice for the victims, not the privileged classes who appeared out of nowhere like white knights in shining armor.Tamil films of this century, especially those made by young and idealistic writers and filmmakers, have also successfully dissected changes in society thanks to the IT outsourcing or BPO boom — which led to huge inequalities between people with similar academic qualifications — and violence of gangs in newly urbanized neighborhoods.Pariyerum Perumal (The God Who Mounts a Horse) and Karnan, which is based on the eponymous character from the epic Mahabharata, were both made by Mari Selvaraj. Both showcase youthful anger and frustration with a caste-obsessed society that is bent upon perpetuating age-old prejudices despite the towering influence of social justice politics in the state. These two films are set in southern Tamil Nadu districts. Both boast a star-studded cast.Selvaraj’s new movie, Maamannan (Emperor), is the story of a politician from an oppressed caste who, notwithstanding his stature as a legislator and a mass leader, refuses to sit – or is forbidden to sit – in front of his dominant-caste party colleagues because of old habits and caste traditions. His son, an out-and-out rebel and a martial arts expert who had lost his friends to caste violence as a teen, has no time for such feudal preoccupations of his father. He feels embarrassed seeing his father belittled due to his low-caste lineage. When he goes to meet a young, dominant-caste leader and witnesses for the first time his father standing and groveling before the younger politician, the son asks his father Maamannan to be seated. Maamannan refuses initially but finally relents. This sets off a fury that puts in motion serial violence masterminded by the young scion dominant-caste politician who cannot stomach the ‘insult’ of a low-caste person sitting in front of him, when what he had seen him do all his life was to stand in front of him and his late politician father.The film ends with Maamannan securing an electoral win against his higher caste opponent amidst mounting odds and the use of violence. Often, such movies end with the defeat or even death of the hero or heroine who dares to fight back against caste and gender hierarchies. This film is different.The cast is stellar, and the key takeaway from the movie is that consciousness of caste atrocities is the first step toward ending caste discrimination. For the elite of Indian society, the message is obvious: Lack of caste consciousness is a luxury only the upper caste can afford. As the credits appear at the end of the movie, the director plays the Constitutional assembly speech by BR Ambedkar, a polymath who is widely regarded as the key framer of the Indian Constitution.More than any regional film industry in India, it is Kollywood, blessed with the versatility and poetic grandeur of the Tamil language, that continues to provoke us with its poignant and evocative portrayal of the concerns and the pain of the have-nots, especially the category that comes under the large umbrella called Dalits. It is no coincidence that the man who plays Maamannan is the great comedian Vadivelu, who played an oppressed caste character called Esaki in a 1992 movie titled Thevar Magan. The film, starring Kamala Haasan and Sivaji Ganesan, glorified the dominant caste Thevars. As a child, Selvaraj was hurt by the casteist references in that film – which had overturned the idea of social justice that Tamil Nadu became largely symbolic of. In that sense, this movie can be seen as a successful effort to throw light on the casteism of the blockbuster movie of the early 1990s. Ironically, in the neighboring state of Kerala, known for its high social indices that are on par with Nordic countries, many films even today resort to the glorification of caste and casteist utterances with impunity.Such artistic disruptions from Kollywood ensure we do not forget the ugly social truths we are otherwise conditioned to ignore.Ullekh NP is a writer, journalist, and political commentator based in New Delhi. He is the executive editor of the newsweekly Open and author of three nonfiction books: War Room: The People, Tactics and Technology Behind Narendra Modi’s 2014 Win; The Untold Vajpayee: Politician and Paradox; and Kannur: Inside India’s Bloodiest Revenge Politics.
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tamil films impact on caste conflict in india, caste system in india, tamil nadu, caste system latest, bollywood, kollywood, tamil films teach us about india
tamil films impact on caste conflict in india, caste system in india, tamil nadu, caste system latest, bollywood, kollywood, tamil films teach us about india
What Tamil Films on Caste Conflict Teach Us About India
17:34 03.07.2023 (Updated: 19:00 03.07.2023) Kollywood often dares to speak out the truth about caste discrimination in the starkest fashion.
Mari Selvaraj is a name that is increasingly becoming popular in India. The 39-year-old Tamil filmmaker and writer is blunt enough to call a spade a spade when it comes to caste conflicts. While some in India deny the existence of continued caste profiling, Selvaraj does not stick his head in the sand.
Tamilians have always had a special knack for highlighting social problems in their movies, and lately in a much more stark and provocative manner. This is perhaps a reflection of the state’s socio-political realities. In the whole of India, the state of Tamil Nadu in the south is looked up to as a hub of social-justice politics thanks to its tall leaders who pioneered what came to be known as the Dravidian movement.
‘Periyar’ Ramaswamy in the beginning and CN Annadurai later are spearheads of an ideology that engendered the rise of Dravidian politics, which replaced all
national parties, even of the
Gandhian hue, and ended their electoral sway in the southern state. Even the communist parties had to play second fiddle to the mammoth, rival Dravidian parties that have between them ruled the state since 1967.
From the outset, Dravidian politics was an anti-Brahminical entity, partly for the right reasons. After all, the Brahminical legacy is all about deeply entrenched caste hierarchies and inexcusable discrimination of man by man. It is a hugely dehumanizing ideology that thrived for centuries.
Dravidian entities had a highly progressive past, a period that saw a profound social churning that altered the face of not only Tamil Nadu’s politics but also inspired disadvantaged people elsewhere to take up cudgels in the name of justice. The aim of its early leaders and supporters, many of whom had suffered caste-based
discrimination themselves, was to strive to emancipate the poor and the marginalized and to build an equitable society. After snapping ties with Periyar over ideological differences, his successor CN Annadurai later modified and armed Tamil politics to suit the need of India’s federal structure. The leaders who succeeded them also left their mark in state politics and elsewhere as anti-caste crusaders.
But there are holes in the Dravidian edifice through which rats sometimes worm their way inside, leading to rot.
As the vigor of the revolutionary zeal slowly wore down, certain other harmful traditions that endured began to rear their heads. The intermediary, dominant communities who had found themselves freed from the yoke of Brahminism began to assert themselves to the extent of imitating their former oppressors, a mistake that we often witness in history.
The middle communities in the caste hierarchy, more or less, refused to treat the most
depressed caste groups as equal. And when the latter started to resist in the same spirit of emancipation championed by the likes of Periyar and Anna, they were treated with extreme bias by the backward, yet dominant castes. Political parties that had earlier taken up the cause of social justice and equality kept silent for the sake of political expediency.
Several films have analyzed this paradox threadbare. Tensions between immediate caste groups in the hierarchy have been a dominant theme in many Tamil movies. Although such conflicts are common all over India and many caste groups routinely get edged out in society and politics in other states, too, no other film industry – other than the one based out of Tamil Nadu capital Chennai called Kollywood (a portmanteau for the words Kodambakkam, the Chennai neighborhood where most studios were based, and Hollywood) — has put the spotlight, with greater fervor, on pressing social issues as Tamil films have, especially in the past two decades.
To my memory, the trend largely started off on the scale we witness now with Bharathi Kannamma (1997) and Iraniyan (1999) which were released in the late 1990s. Later, Paruthiveeran (2007), Pariyerum Perumal (2018), Asuran (2019), Magamuni (2019), Karnan (2021) all produced a genre that a critic once described as "thug" films. Whether one liked the brutal visuals in those films or not, they carried a strong message on caste hostilities, as well the necessity – and, in some cases, perhaps futility – of violence.
Unlike Bollywood movies, in Kollywood, it is often the wronged party who takes up the task of retribution and seeks justice for the victims, not the privileged classes who appeared out of nowhere like white knights in shining armor.
Tamil films of this century, especially those made by young and idealistic writers and filmmakers, have also successfully dissected changes in society thanks to the IT outsourcing or BPO boom — which led to huge inequalities between people with similar academic qualifications — and violence of gangs in newly urbanized neighborhoods.
Pariyerum Perumal (The God Who Mounts a Horse) and Karnan, which is based on the eponymous character from the epic Mahabharata, were both made by Mari Selvaraj. Both showcase youthful anger and frustration with a caste-obsessed society that is bent upon perpetuating age-old prejudices despite the towering influence of social justice politics in the state. These two films are set in southern Tamil Nadu districts. Both boast a star-studded cast.
Selvaraj’s new movie, Maamannan (Emperor), is the story of a politician from an oppressed caste who, notwithstanding his stature as a legislator and a mass leader, refuses to sit – or is forbidden to sit – in front of his dominant-caste party colleagues because of old habits and caste traditions. His son, an out-and-out rebel and a martial arts expert who had lost his friends to caste violence as a teen, has no time for such feudal preoccupations of his father. He feels embarrassed seeing his father belittled due to his low-caste lineage. When he goes to meet a young, dominant-caste leader and witnesses for the first time his father standing and groveling before the younger politician, the son asks his father Maamannan to be seated. Maamannan refuses initially but finally relents. This sets off a fury that puts in motion serial violence masterminded by the young scion dominant-caste politician who cannot stomach the ‘insult’ of a low-caste person sitting in front of him, when what he had seen him do all his life was to stand in front of him and his late politician father.
The film ends with Maamannan securing an electoral win against his higher caste opponent amidst mounting odds and the use of violence. Often, such movies end with the defeat or even death of the hero or heroine who dares to fight back against caste and gender hierarchies. This film is different.
The cast is stellar, and the key takeaway from the movie is that consciousness of caste atrocities is the first step toward ending caste discrimination. For the elite of Indian society, the message is obvious: Lack of caste consciousness is a luxury only the upper caste can afford. As the credits appear at the end of the movie, the director plays the Constitutional assembly speech by BR Ambedkar, a polymath who is widely regarded as the key framer of the Indian Constitution.
More than any regional film industry in India, it is Kollywood, blessed with the versatility and poetic grandeur of the Tamil language, that continues to provoke us with its poignant and evocative portrayal of the concerns and the pain of the have-nots, especially the category that comes under the large umbrella called Dalits. It is no coincidence that the man who plays Maamannan is the great comedian Vadivelu, who played an oppressed caste character called Esaki in a 1992 movie titled Thevar Magan. The film, starring Kamala Haasan and Sivaji Ganesan, glorified the dominant caste Thevars. As a child, Selvaraj was hurt by the casteist references in that film – which had overturned the idea of social justice that Tamil Nadu became largely symbolic of. In that sense, this movie can be seen as a successful effort to throw light on the casteism of the blockbuster movie of the early 1990s. Ironically, in the neighboring state of Kerala, known for its high social indices that are on par with Nordic countries, many films even today resort to the glorification of caste and casteist utterances with impunity.
Such artistic disruptions from Kollywood ensure we do not forget the ugly social truths we are otherwise conditioned to ignore.
Ullekh NP is a writer, journalist, and political commentator based in New Delhi. He is the executive editor of the newsweekly Open and author of three nonfiction books: War Room: The People, Tactics and Technology Behind Narendra Modi’s 2014 Win; The Untold Vajpayee: Politician and Paradox; and Kannur: Inside India’s Bloodiest Revenge Politics.
