Now that My Name is Khan has opened in Bombay without too much interference from the thugs and goondas of the Shiv Sena, we should learn the lessons that this episode has taught us.
The Shiv Sena is no longer a significant political force. There is no prospect of it winning power in Maharashtra in the near future. The best it can hope for is some share in government as part of an alliance with other parties but even that is beginning to look dubious.
To prove its relevance, to enthuse its cadres, to keep up with the threat from the rival MNS and to stroke the fast-fading self-esteem of the rapidly ageing Bal Thackeray, the party resorts to high-profile stunts. These are a poor substitute for real political power but they keep the Sena in the headlines and provide the impression of activity.
The Sena has two kinds of stunts. The first category is largely harmless. This consists of editorials in Saamna, the Shiv Sena’s mouthpiece, or of signed articles written by Bal Thackeray himself. These articles generally berate famous people for a) showing disrespect to the Maharashtrian cause, b) saying things that the Sena regards as being pro-Pakistani or c) making any kind of remark that Bal Thackeray considers offensive depending on his mood that day.
The editorials, by themselves, do not amount to much. When Bal Thackeray attacks Sachin Tendulkar for suggesting that his Indian identity takes precedence over his Marathi identity, this does not mean that Sachin will be prevented from playing in Bombay. Equally, if the Sena attacks Mukesh Ambani for saying that taxi drivers from outside Maharashtra have the right to work in Bombay, it does not follow that the Reliance office will be gheraoed or even that the Sena will stop accepting campaign contributions from the Ambanis.
These editorials and critical commentaries are meant to generate headlines in the mainstream media. Thackeray knows that any attack on a famous person will be covered by TV and the press and will, therefore, keep the Sena in the news.
The Sena’s bread and butter, however, is the terrorist attack. A good definition of terrorism is that it consists of violence directed at innocent civilians in the pursuit of some larger political objective.
The Sena uses terrorist violence of this kind to demonstrate its clout. If it is unhappy that a cricket team is playing in Bombay, it will dig up the pitch and intimidate spectators. If it objects to a movie, it will attack cinema halls and scare away audiences because of the threat of violence.
Because individuals cannot fight terrorism on their own, the Shiv Sena’s tactics usually work. Film stars plead for mercy. Film directors touch Bal Thackeray’s feet. And the Sena is able to claim that it rules Bombay.
Both categories of political stunt can be easily dealt with. The only reason Bal Thackeray attacks famous people in Saamna is because he knows that we in the media will pick up his attacks. But if the mainstream media were to take the line that we would not reproduce every threat made by Bal Thackeray and that every thuggish Saamna editorial would not be given the Breaking News treatment, this tactic will fail.
The experience of My Name is Khan demonstrates that even the second category of stunt can be handled. So far, the state government in Maharashtra has always taken the line that Shiv Sena violence is a law and order issue. So, only after a cinema is attacked is a police van dispatched to the spot and a complaint registered. By then, the damage has been done and the goondas have escaped.
| "In the end, we must deal with Shiv Sena violence as we deal with all terrorist violence: prevent the attacks and deny the terrorists the oxygen of publicity." |
The difference, this time around, is that the state government did not take a law and order approach. It treated the threat of violence as terrorism.
When you look at it from that perspective, it is quite clear what needs to be done. Let’s take an example: if a jihadi organization declared that it would blow up or destroy cinema halls where a film was to be released, then the police would move to cripple the organization. Its leaders would be arrested and its more violent cadres placed in preventive detention. The police would try and work out how and when the attacks would take place and prevent the terrorists from reaching their targets.
On Friday, the Maharashtra government finally adopted the second approach, locking up Shiv Sainiks and trying to stop the attacks before they occurred. That is why My Name is Khan was released without too much violence.
It is all very well for us to keep attacking Bollywood stars for bending before the might of the Sena. But in reality, they are doing what most citizens will do when they are threatened by terrorists and know that there is no will on the part of the government to protect them.
Once the government indicates that it means business, ordinary people are emboldened to stand up to the terrorists. So it is with the Shiv Sena and Bollywood.
I do not know why the government of Ashok Chavan finally demonstrated the resolve to take on the Sena. My guess is that Chavan was pushed by New Delhi – in the form of the Gandhis and P. Chidambaram – into doing his job.
Whatever the truth is, the state government must have noticed that once people knew that the security forces were committed to their protection, they rushed to the cinemas. And Bollywood, which has buckled under the Sena threat for so many years, finally had the courage to stand up for Shah Rukh Khan.
The lessons are clear. The state government must treat the threat of violence against innocent civilians as terrorism and respond accordingly. And we in the media, in our constant search for headlines, breaking news and subjects to fill the hours of discussion time that TV requires, must not fall back on the easy option of treating every Saamna editorial as though it is a matter of earth-shaking importance.
In the end, we must deal with Shiv Sena violence as we deal with all terrorist violence: prevent the attacks and deny the terrorists the oxygen of publicity.