Freedom or death

Censorship and book bans have long shadowed Malayalam literature and cinema, but political vindictiveness has deepened the damage

In 1938, long before the term “freedom of expression” gained currency in this part of the world, “Dharmarajyam,” a collection of political essays by legendary writer Vaikom Muhammad Basheer, was banned by the Travancore govt. Basheer printed and sold copies of the book himself, going door to door.

It was the first book to be banned in Malayalam. Later, in 1946, Ponkunnam Varkey was jailed for publishing two short stories, “Mantrikkettu” and “Model.” The virulent criticism against the colonial powers and the princely state led to the banning of books and jail terms for authors in those days.

Kerala first witnessed serious debates on freedom of expression only in the 1980s when the street play “Kristuvinte Aram Thirumurivu” (The Sixth Sacred Wound of Christ) by CPI(ML) activist P M Antony attracted huge criticism from the Church. The play, based on the novel “Last Temptation of Christ” by Nikos Kazantzakis, presented Christ as an earthly man and Mary Magdalene as his lover.

It was banned by the K Karunakaran govt, invoking provisions in the Dramatic Performance Act, another first in the state’s history.
Much before that, the play “Nadugadhika” (Ritual of the Land), written and directed by K J Baby, was banned by the E K Nayanar govt for Baby’s perceived connections with the Naxal movement.

The play, which later won critical acclaim, was viewed by the authorities as an attempt to turn tribal people against the establishment. Yet, the issue of freedom of expression was an idea that sparked debates in intellectual and academic circles. It was not an issue for the common man and the mass media.

“Intolerance towards criticism is not something exclusive to one govt, party, or religion. It’s the hallmark of every establishment and power. They always try to silence criticism. Censorship is a legally devised tool for it,” said writer and critic P K Rajasekharan.

It was the content of the work and the conviction of the writers, and its plausible lingering effect on society, that agonized authorities and prompted them to ban their works in the past. Rajasekharan, however, said he did not think the current controversy over the film “Empuran” has anything to do with the term “freedom of expression” in its strict sense.

“It’s nothing but a commercial thriller, a revenge drama solely driven by profit motive. To frame this debate around such films trivializes the very concept,” he said.

Compared to books, plays, and cartoons, Malayalam films have never had an open issue with the right to freedom of expression, despite some bold artistic attempts. Films by I V Sasi, Padmarajan, K G George, and Bharathan could prick the pride, break the conventional sensibilities, and lambast the political system without raking up any serious protest.

The prominence of multiple communities in Kerala society always prompted the mainstream industry to produce films that did not hurt the religious sentiments of any community. Moreover, films that seriously discussed political ideologies and society were often branded as arthouse movies that seldom gained currency among the masses.

If at all there were issues, they were minor ones, like the goldsmith community protesting the title of a Sathyan Anthikad movie. Following the protests, Anthikad changed the title from “Ponmutta Idunna Thattan” (The Goldsmith Who Lays Golden Eggs) to “Ponmutta Idunna Tharavu” (The Duck That Lays Golden Eggs).

This was in the late 1980s.

However, political films that targeted any political party or political leader have faced stiff, but veiled opposition in the recent past. The film “Left Right Left,” written by Murali Gopy, who wrote the script for “Empuran”, was not allowed to screen in cinemas in Kannur. Though CPM consistently denied its role, the party functionaries made sure that the film didn’t get screens in its strongholds due to the alleged resemblance of a character in the film to Pinarayi Vijayan.

Another film, “Eeda,” based on the political violence in Kannur, was also denied theatres in Kannur, allegedly following the intervention of party functionaries. The only film that major political parties campaigned against openly and sought to ban was the Sangh Parivar-backed “Kerala Story,” woven around the “Love Jihad” allegations in Kerala.

“But the current controversy over “Empuran” is much graver in nature as it’s ominous,” said film critic C S Venkiteswaran. “It’s not the content that was edited out that demands attention, but the way the film had to undergo self-censoring under perceived threats.

It calls for the attention of a pluralistic, civilized society,” he said.
He expressed dismay over the predicament that an artistically dud film has to be defended, as it was forced to self-edit the film cleared by the censor board. “It’s a pity that lofty ideals like freedom of expression are discussed in connection with a film that has no artistic values to boast about. But the issue cannot be discounted on that account alone,” he said.

Academic and social critic Damodar Prasad said the self-censorship was thrust upon “Empuran,” and this new strategy of coercion without a trace posed an unprecedented threat to freedom of expression. “The duplicity involved in this compelled self-censorship now gives Sangh Parivar the space to claim innocence. This could become a precedent in the future, and it’s dangerous for freedom, democracy and art,” he said.