Mughal-e-Threesome

Controversy and Bollywood’s versions of Indian history seem to go hand in hand. HIMANSHU BHAGAT talks to some historians to find out why

WHEN K ASIF made Mughal-e- Azam in 1960, he adhered to popular folklore and showed Jodha Bai as the Rajput queen of the Mughal emperor Akbar. There was no controversy. Asif’s tale of forbidden love between Akbar’s son Prince Salim and the courtesan Anarkali became a huge hit. Perhaps people were too busy humming “Pyaar Kiya To Darna Kya” to notice any historical inaccuracies. Or they just didn’t care. Almost fifty years later, as Ashutosh Gowariker is set to release
Jodhaa Akbar, a tale of love between Akbar and Jodha Bai, played by Hrithik Roshan and Aishwarya Rai, a section of Rajputs in Rajasthan has protested that the film is historically inaccurate and threatened to block its screening in the state.

Factually at least, they are on solid ground. Akbar never married Jodha Bai. It was his son, Prince Salim who did. Salim became Emperor Jehangir. And his son from Jodha Bai, Prince Khurram, succeeded his father as Emperor Shah Jahan. “All this goes to show that history is not settled business,” says Mahmood Farooqui, who is currently writing a book on 1857 but is better known as a dastango who has single-handedly revived dastangoi or the traditional art of oral storytelling in Delhi. “It is almost as if each generation has its own myths about the past.” “Those protesting the movie have two specific objections,” says Dilbag Singh, professor of Mughal history at the Jawaharlal Nehru University in New Delhi. “That a different person was married to Akbar. And, that there was no love affair between the two.” Iqtidar Alam Khan, the noted historian and authority on Akbar who teaches at Aligarh Muslim University, points out that Akbar did marry a Rajput princess but she was Harka Bai, daughter of the Kachwaha ruler of Amber, Raja Bharmal. “The erroneous tradition that Akbar was married to Jodha Bai can be traced back at least to the 18th century. That is when we find the first written reference to it,” he says.

Shah Nadeem, who teaches history at Zakir Husain College in Delhi University, also points out that one of the palaces at Fatehpur Sikri, the city built by Akbar near Agra, is called Jodha Mahal, and is one reason why Jodha Bai is popularly believed to have been Akbar’s queen. But why should getting Akbar’s Rajput wife’s name wrong touch a raw nerve? Is there some latent sense of communal grievance behind the protest? Singh can’t see why the Rajputs should harbour any grudge against the Mughals. As he points out, the tradition of intermarriage among ruling families as a means to achieve political stability and forge new ties is an old one. Rajput princesses were married to Muslim sultans in Delhi and Gujarat during the pre-Mughal era. “The Mughals merely systematised this tradition. Akbar was the first Mughal emperor to marry a Rajput princess,” says Singh. “From the time of Shah Jahan, the practise of establishing matrimonial ties between the Mughals and the Rajputs declined. It is no coincidence that, around the same time, the Mughals had achieved a healthy degree of political stability.” And the Rajputs had no qualms about intermarriage with the Mughals. Khan feels people often forget that the medieval world was very different from ours, with different attitudes and outlook. “The Rajputs wouldn’t have seen the Mughals as ‘outsiders’, for the idea of India as a nation didn’t exist at the time,” he says. “In matters related to marriage, caste pride played a bigger role. The Rajputs, for instance, would never have married into communities they felt were lower in the caste hierarchy.” Whether it is a film based on the life of Mangal Pandey, or one on Bhagat Singh, or one that depicts the plight of widows a hundred years ago (Deepa Mehta’s Water) — in India, films based on historical themes inevitably become controversial.

This also holds true for books on historical figures like Shivaji, Nehru or Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose. Questions about Shivaji’s parentage incense some; others object to a close examination of Nehru’s relationship with Edwina Mountbatten or of Netaji’s links with Hitler. Perhaps the phenomenon is an indicator of the fact that India is “a land of million mutinies” where castes, community and regional groupings feel the need to assert their identity for a number of reasons. And history is the key to identity.

“In England, there is the historical [Queen] Elizabeth [the First] and there is the popular Elizabeth. There is a consensus about her there,” says Mahmood Farooqui. “But there is no consensus here. If you make a film on Ambedkar or on Bhagat Singh supporters of Gandhi are likely to object. And it can go the other way round.” Singh points out that in India, group identities play a larger role in the individual’s psyche as compared to the West. “Mughal court historians referred to Jats as plunderers and even today the Jat community resents that,” he says. “They were actually farmers — peasant proprietors and zamindars — who resisted Mughal power.” Farooqui feels that an artist must be mindful of these realities. His current dastan (story) is set during the Partition and features a street poem from a time that is very critical of Nehru. “There is no such thing as absolute freedom of speech,” he says. “You can go to certain extent but not beyond that.” What bothers most historians is the cavalier fashion in which films and television in India treat history. They appreciate that a film is meant to entertain and not serve as a history lesson.

But there are ways of going about it. “The television serial Prithviraj Chauhan, which is being aired currently is one hundred percent fiction,” says an indignant Singh. Shah can cite any number of instances where “Bollywood’s fetish for love affairs” means that facts mean nothing. He points out that contrary to what the film Razia Sultana depicts, the real Razia — the only woman ruler of the Delhi Sultanate — did not fall in love with the Abyssinian noble Yaqut. He also cites the SRKstarrer Asoka as a poorly researched film littered with factual inaccuracies. “In case you don’t already know, Ashoka didn’t attack Kalinga because he was in love with a girl,” he says. There is a reason why he feels strongly about this. “Some accuracy and a basic adherence to facts are necessary because films and TV have a hold on the popular imagination and shape perceptions,” he says.

There are examples which filmmakers can learn from. “A good historical film is Satyajit Ray’s adaptation of Premchand’s novella Shatranj Ke Khiladi,” says Shah. “The tale of two chess-playing noblemen during the last days of Awadh is completely fictional. But the setting is authentic and historically accurate. The film gave a true picture of Awadh during the tumult of 1856 and its last Nawab, Wajid Ali Shah.” The mix of history, folklore and outright fantasy can make for good entertainment but a more discerning viewership, as well as one that is quick to take offence, will ensure that film directors think twice before they decide to set their next love story in the 16th century.