Gangster state: Politics as a criminal enterprise in pursuit of power | Entertainment News | ACTPnews



Early in the 2010 Hindi film Raajneeti, directed by Prakash Jha, senior politician Brij Gopal (Nana Patekar) tells a younger aspirant Sooraj Kumar (Ajay Devgn), that there are no right or wrong actions in politics. “The only purpose of any political action is to fulfil an objective,” says Brij, “at any cost.” This ideology informs the actions of all the characters in the film, which narrates the story of a power struggle in a political family from a north Indian state. In the pursuit of state power, everything is justified — corruption in public office, manipulation of allies, friends, and relatives, and even murder. In the process, politics and state power are transformed into a criminal enterprise.

 
 

At the time of its release, a short review in the New York Times pointed out that the film was evidently inspired by the Godfather trilogy, with overtones of the Mahabharata and similarities to the history of the Nehru-Gandhi family. Its narrative revolves around a powerful political dynasty, led by Bhanu Pratap (Jahangir Khan) and his brother Chandra Prakash (Chetan Pandit). When Bhanu Pratap suffers from a stroke on the eve of elections in the state, Chandra Prakash takes charge of their political party. However, Bhanu Pratap’s son, Veerendra Pratap (Manoj Bajpayee), refuses to acknowledge Chandra Prakash’s leadership, and he is soon embroiled in a power struggle with him and his son, Prithvi Pratap (Arjun Rampal).

 


There are several other important characters, such as Chandra Prakash’s younger son, Samar Pratap (Ranbir Kapoor). Samar is doing a PhD in English literature in the US and returns home for a holiday. Brij Gopal is an advisor to Chandra Prakash’s faction of the party and brother to his wife, Bharti (Nikhila Trikha). Sooraj Kumar is her pre-marital child, adopted by the family chauffeur; he grows up to be a champion kabaddi player and aspiring leader of the Dalit community. When his claim to an election ticket is rejected by Prithvi and Chandra Prakash, Veerendra sees an opportunity and appoints him as an office bearer in the party. The internecine conflict escalates when Sooraj and Veerandra get Chandra Prakash killed.

 


About to go back to the US, Samar returns from the airport to take charge, like Michael Corleone. His brother Prithvi has been arrested on trumped-up charges and thrown out of the party. Samar manages to get his brother out on bail and arranges his marriage to Indu (Katrina Kaif), the daughter of a business tycoon. Indu loves Samar, but he is involved in a relationship with his fellow student, Sarah (Sarah Thompson). As Prithvi’s newly formed Jan Shakti Party seems to take a lead in the elections, Sooraj strikes again — a car bomb kills him and Sarah. Samar projects Indu as the new leader of the party, and a sentimental wave ensures that she wins the elections. Samar shoots and kills Veerendra and Sooraj in a gunfight. 

 

Adapting the Mahabharata for film is not an easy task. In an interview with the theatre and act critic, Samik Bandyopadhyay, Satyajit Ray explained how he wanted to adapt parts of the Mahabharata, such as the Kurukshetra war or the dice game. “I don’t think the whole of Mahabharata can be tackled,” he says, “but a part of it, perhaps using the kathakali.” He describes the epic as a story that everyone knows from before. “If one thinks of an Indian audience, there’s no problem,” he says. But Ray felt that such a film would have to be planned for the world market. “And there, the relationships of the characters would create tremendous problems.”

 


For an Indian audience, as Ray points out, this would not be a problem. The audience would be intimately familiar with the complicated familial relationships in the narrative. Anyone in India watching ‘Raajneeti’ would be immediately aware that Bhanu Pratap is Dhritarashtra, Chandra Prakash is Pandu, Bharti is Kunti, and Brij Gopal is Krishna. While Prithvi and Samar are the Pandavas, Veerandra is Duryodhana, Sooraj is Karna, and Indu is Draupadi. This familiarity is a product of certain recursive cultural practices. Even someone who has not read the Mahabharata, would have experienced it through repeated tellings in domestic or public settings, viewed performances of it, or would have been made aware of it through public discourse.

 

As the poet and literary scholar, A K Ramanujan, wrote in a 1991 essay, “No Hindu ever reads the Mahabharata for the first time”, later expanding it, in another essay, to: “In India… no one reads the Ramayana or the Mahabharata for the first time”. Drawing upon Ramanujan, Indian-American anthropologist Arjun Appadurai relates this recursive cultural practice, in a 2019 essay, to Hindi film-watching traditions. He argues that in Hindi films, “plot emphasizes difference and music [carries] the burden of repetition”, resulting in a common effect — “recognition”. In the case of ‘Rajneeti’, the plot, too, results in “recognition”. Anyone watching the film, even for the first time, knows already that the Pandavas will defeat the Kauravas. The pleasure is in this familiarity.

 

Yet, watching ‘Raajneeti’, a decade and a half after its initial release, left me with some measure of disquiet. It is because of a certain tonal shift in the ethicality of the narrative. In the Mahabharata, the violence of the Pandavas, assisted by Krishna, is justified because they are on the right side of dharma. As film scholar M.K. Raghavendra notes in his 2014 book, The Politics of Hindi Cinema in the New Millenium, “While Sri Krishna’s wisdom… comes from his confidence that he is on the side of dharma, Brij Gopal can have no such confidence. …The attributes of ‘neutrality’ and ‘wisdom’ with which Brij Gopal is endowed are false…” Without the framework of dharma, the actions of Samar and Brij Gopal show politics to be a criminal enterprise, and the power attained through these means makes a gangster state.

 


In this sense, ‘Raajneeti’ reflects a deep cynicism about the nature of contemporary Indian politics. While drawing upon the moral universe of the Mahabharata, the film removes the certainty of dharma and replaces it with calculation, spectacle, and political survival. Its depiction of dynastic succession, caste mobilisation, media manipulation, and electoral violence echoes realities associated with many Indian political formations. The tragedy of the film lies not simply in the deaths of its characters, but in the normalisation of unethical politics itself. Power becomes both the means and the end, leaving democracy stripped of its moral and public purpose.

 



Uttaran Das Gupta is an independent writer and journalist  

 



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