(The still featured is from Yash Raj Films' Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge, 1995) Shahrukh Khan Detained: A Play of Stereotypes
We live in an age of stereotypes. Bombay film superstar, Shahrukh Khan’s recent detention at Newark Airport in America can be viewed like a snowflake swirling amidst such stereotypes. The incident is noteworthy, not due to the involvement of a famous actor, but because of the important indications it holds for Indians today.
The episode signals how the world is cut-up into imagined categories of ‘us’ and ‘them’, how deeper, subconscious associations are grafted onto these categories and how these are backed up by modern state power which recognizes communities, not individuals. The episode displays a continued Western suspicion of all things ‘Muslim’. Despite the ascension of Barack Husain Obama as American President, the West continues viewing ‘Muslims’ as a cohesive category, a homogenous community that merits scrutiny, questioning, even detention, due to stereotypes of violence.
The association of violence with Muslims has long roots in Western thought. The seminal theorist, Edward Said, identified imagery from the Crusades, European colonialism, Israel-Palestine tensions and American petro-politics as some factors driving this association. Recent Western involvements in Afghanistan, Saudi Arabia’s particular political economy and 9/11 have only strengthened Western notions of Muslims as ‘violent’ and driven by anti-modern hatred.
In turn, ‘the West’ is often perceived by others as a solid block of Caucasian nations, determined to provoke Islamic communities through assaults on territory and dignity, veneration and modes of life. America’s invasion of Iraq and its incarcerations at Guantanamo Bay raised questions around the power of those writing global history and deciding its heroes and villains. Stereotypes of violence and persecution are in heated movement across the world today.
In all this, Shahrukh Khan’s detention in an airport security room offers a glimpse into such stereotypes as well as the uncanny knack Bombay cinema has of colliding with real politics. Khan’s career is a significant indicator of the globalisation of Indians, now confidently moving across the world on business, study and leisure. Khan’s films highlight this mobile community and the shift of the Bombay cinema industry towards this diaspora. Khan’s brief detention depicts the strange position of today’s Indian, travelling through contentious global stereotypes, increasingly forced to engage with these.
Interestingly, within India, while stereotypes of Muslims, fuelled by tales of conquest and Partition, once held powerful associations of violence, there has been some evolution since. India’s Independence was marked by an emphasis on secularism which its popular culture matched, albeit in ways that often led to an uneasy silence. Popular Bombay cinema ‘self-censored’ uncomfortable explorations of religious difference. The ruling megastar of the 1950s did not use his real name, Yusuf Khan, settling instead for a quiet ‘Dilip Kumar’. Partition was not depicted by filmmakers displaced through it, Muslim characters were limited to chocolate-box screen romances and most leading cinematic figures were Hindu.
This was to change. In the 1990s, three stars emerged, each titled Khan, each achieving new records of popularity. As India started globalising, a slow process, of accepting diversity in narratives through expression, not silence, seemed underway as well. The 1980s had witnessed the victimization of Sikhs by a state battling separatism. With Hindutva and the Mandal Commission following, the early 1990s brought a suddenly-shared experience of how state power could affect any community, religious minority or caste majority.
The mid-1990s in fact unveiled a new realization to Indians; get over sectarianism, get on with life. Objects of worship now included success, money and fame. Those who rose to the top of their tree were adored, regardless of religion. Intriguingly, the surname ‘Khan’ took on incredibly positive associations, linked to notions of success, talent and charm. Ironically, it was just about then that the same name started indicating the opposite overseas.
Today, as cosmopolitanism grows, criss-crossing with local identities, it is important for Indians to understand how stereotypes are born and function. Shahrukh Khan’s detention indicates how powerfully fragments from history combine with politics, economies and state regimes, forming stereotypes that negate diversity and affect our physical beings. As the world becomes smaller, minds can be enlarged by examining different sides to an issue. It is only by refusing to accept stereotypes that Indians will escape detention in these themselves.
We live in an age of stereotypes. Bombay film superstar, Shahrukh Khan’s recent detention at Newark Airport in America can be viewed like a snowflake swirling amidst such stereotypes. The incident is noteworthy, not due to the involvement of a famous actor, but because of the important indications it holds for Indians today.
The episode signals how the world is cut-up into imagined categories of ‘us’ and ‘them’, how deeper, subconscious associations are grafted onto these categories and how these are backed up by modern state power which recognizes communities, not individuals. The episode displays a continued Western suspicion of all things ‘Muslim’. Despite the ascension of Barack Husain Obama as American President, the West continues viewing ‘Muslims’ as a cohesive category, a homogenous community that merits scrutiny, questioning, even detention, due to stereotypes of violence.
The association of violence with Muslims has long roots in Western thought. The seminal theorist, Edward Said, identified imagery from the Crusades, European colonialism, Israel-Palestine tensions and American petro-politics as some factors driving this association. Recent Western involvements in Afghanistan, Saudi Arabia’s particular political economy and 9/11 have only strengthened Western notions of Muslims as ‘violent’ and driven by anti-modern hatred.
In turn, ‘the West’ is often perceived by others as a solid block of Caucasian nations, determined to provoke Islamic communities through assaults on territory and dignity, veneration and modes of life. America’s invasion of Iraq and its incarcerations at Guantanamo Bay raised questions around the power of those writing global history and deciding its heroes and villains. Stereotypes of violence and persecution are in heated movement across the world today.
In all this, Shahrukh Khan’s detention in an airport security room offers a glimpse into such stereotypes as well as the uncanny knack Bombay cinema has of colliding with real politics. Khan’s career is a significant indicator of the globalisation of Indians, now confidently moving across the world on business, study and leisure. Khan’s films highlight this mobile community and the shift of the Bombay cinema industry towards this diaspora. Khan’s brief detention depicts the strange position of today’s Indian, travelling through contentious global stereotypes, increasingly forced to engage with these.
Interestingly, within India, while stereotypes of Muslims, fuelled by tales of conquest and Partition, once held powerful associations of violence, there has been some evolution since. India’s Independence was marked by an emphasis on secularism which its popular culture matched, albeit in ways that often led to an uneasy silence. Popular Bombay cinema ‘self-censored’ uncomfortable explorations of religious difference. The ruling megastar of the 1950s did not use his real name, Yusuf Khan, settling instead for a quiet ‘Dilip Kumar’. Partition was not depicted by filmmakers displaced through it, Muslim characters were limited to chocolate-box screen romances and most leading cinematic figures were Hindu.
This was to change. In the 1990s, three stars emerged, each titled Khan, each achieving new records of popularity. As India started globalising, a slow process, of accepting diversity in narratives through expression, not silence, seemed underway as well. The 1980s had witnessed the victimization of Sikhs by a state battling separatism. With Hindutva and the Mandal Commission following, the early 1990s brought a suddenly-shared experience of how state power could affect any community, religious minority or caste majority.
The mid-1990s in fact unveiled a new realization to Indians; get over sectarianism, get on with life. Objects of worship now included success, money and fame. Those who rose to the top of their tree were adored, regardless of religion. Intriguingly, the surname ‘Khan’ took on incredibly positive associations, linked to notions of success, talent and charm. Ironically, it was just about then that the same name started indicating the opposite overseas.
Today, as cosmopolitanism grows, criss-crossing with local identities, it is important for Indians to understand how stereotypes are born and function. Shahrukh Khan’s detention indicates how powerfully fragments from history combine with politics, economies and state regimes, forming stereotypes that negate diversity and affect our physical beings. As the world becomes smaller, minds can be enlarged by examining different sides to an issue. It is only by refusing to accept stereotypes that Indians will escape detention in these themselves.
