Pawn to political machinations, the thinning veneer of communal harmony is often easily torn asunder by the manipulations of zealous factions.
Legendary Indian auteur Kamal Haasan’s 2000 film “Hey Ram”, starring the director himself along with Shah Rukh Khan, Rani Mukharjee, is a masterful cinematic discourse of that.
As a profound meditation on the horrors of the partition of 1947, it transcends the boundaries of a historical drama and delves into the darker recesses of human nature, collective memory, and the malleability of political pawns in the hands of maleficent forces.
The film—replete with visceral depictions of communal violence, political manipulation, and the devastating consequences of hatred—becomes eerily resonant when juxtaposed against the current communal tensions and political instability in Bangladesh, especially in light of the recent incident at the Chattogram Puja Mandap.
Jatra Mohon Sen Hall incident on 10 October is not an isolated event; rather, it is a symptom of a wider malaise—a reflection of the hyper-fragmentation of our political and social landscape.
Religious identity, once a private matter of faith, has been weaponised, transformed into a public theatre of discord by opportunistic forces who thrive on division.
Whether it is the Hindu community feeling affronted by the performance of an Islamic song at their most sacred festival, or the inverse scenario wherein Muslim sensibilities are inflamed by the intrusion of other faiths, the fundamental issue remains the same - we are too quick to see difference as a threat rather than as an opportunity for understanding.
This again harkens to the foundational principles of coexistence—those principles that do not merely tolerate difference but celebrate it. There is a profound wisdom in acknowledging that all faiths, all cultures, have within them elements of the universal, the transcendent.
In “Hey Ram”, the protagonist Saket Ram (played by Kamal Haasan) embarks on a tragic journey of revenge, seduced by a narrative of communal animosity after witnessing his wife’s horrific death during the partition riots.
The film oscillates between Saket’s descent into radicalism and his eventual redemption, spurred by his disillusionment with the very ideals that first drove him.
Much like Saket’s personal arc, “Hey Ram” is less about the individual and more about the reflection of a society in turmoil, one where seemingly righteous causes are hijacked by darker forces seeking to stoke the fires of division.
The film's commentary on communal violence is potent and multifaceted. It underscores how moments of crisis—such as the partition—offer fertile ground for exploitation by those with political agendas.
Viewers witness how the grief and anger of individuals are transformed into weapons of mass manipulation.
Leaders, demagogues, and power-hungry factions fan the flames of religious division, turning ordinary citizens into unwitting pawns in a game far larger than they can comprehend.
The partition may serve as the backdrop, but the film’s exploration of religious strife and political opportunism resonates with chilling clarity in today’s Bangladesh.
The incident in the Chattogram Puja Mandap, where tensions escalated over alleged sacrilege, serves as a sobering reminder of the fragile balance between communities.
Saket’s grief and desire for revenge after losing his wife mirror the sentiments of those whose religious beliefs are challenged or ridiculed.
Yet “Hey Ram” poignantly suggests that the larger enemy is not the “other”, but rather the forces that thrive on dividing society.
Politicians and self-appointed saviours who weaponise communal identity are the true culprits, manipulating the masses to achieve their own ends.
In Bangladesh’s current climate, where political stability remains precarious, and factions vie for control, this manipulation of communal identity remains a potent tool for those seeking power.
The film also explores the psychological ramifications of violence, portraying how individuals can become prisoners to their rage, unable to see beyond the hatred that has consumed them.
Saket’s journey is one of radicalisation and then redemption, but it is also a narrative about the human cost of losing one’s capacity for empathy.
In today's Bangladesh, the rise in communal tensions often coincides with an erosion of understanding between communities, a disintegration of the delicate social fabric that once held diverse populations together.
“Hey Ram” underscores that violence—once unleashed—rarely spares its instigators, nor does it honour the supposed ‘justifications’ that sparked it.
Furthermore, the film takes an unflinching look at how political pawns are created. Saket, an educated archaeologist, is radicalised not by choice but by circumstance and emotional manipulation.
His descent is orchestrated by political figures who find in him a willing tool to further their agenda. This theme of political machination is not just relevant in the context of India’s partition but rings painfully true in the modern political landscape of Bangladesh, where factions manipulate societal divisions for their own benefit.
Political instability, such as that seen in the aftermath of Sheikh Hasina’s ousting, creates an environment where communal tensions can be easily stoked by those seeking to exploit the moment for personal gain.
The film’s central moral dilemma—whether violence can ever be justified in the pursuit of justice—remains a question that haunts Bangladesh today.
Just as Saket is forced to confront the futility of his actions, modern-day Bangladeshis must grapple with the consequences of allowing religious and political fervour to dictate their actions.
The incident in Chattogram, which could have easily spiralled into a conflict, are a stark reminder of how easily the boundaries between justice and vengeance, between protest and violence, can blur when manipulated by those in power.
Perhaps the most tragic aspect of this debacle is that the very performance being decried was likely intended to express unity, to show that the spiritual yearnings of humanity transcend religious boundaries.
But in our fractured, polarised world, such gestures are increasingly viewed with suspicion rather than goodwill.
This episode provides yet another opportunity for those with ulterior motives to fan the flames of discord.
Bangladesh has a history of both religious coexistence and conflict, and stands at a precipice. With the ousting of Hasina’s kleptocratic regime in recent memory, the political landscape remains volatile.
Extremist factions on all sides are emboldened, seeking to reshape the narrative of what it means to be Bangladeshi. The performance at the Durga Puja mandap might well be co-opted by those who wish to assert a narrow, exclusionary vision of national identity—one that privileges one religion over others and seeks to undermine the hard-won, albeit fragile, unity that holds this diverse nation together.
It is too easy to allow the incident at JM Sen Hall to become yet another footnote in the long history of sectarian strife.
But perhaps, just perhaps, it can instead serve as a clarion call to rethink how we navigate the delicate dance between faith, culture, and identity.
If we are to avoid the descent into chaos, we must reassert the primacy of dialogue, the necessity of empathy, and the value of art in bridging divides.
Songs, after all, are the expressions of the soul—they speak to our most human desires, to connect with something greater than ourselves. To criminalise their performance, to politicise their meaning, is to impoverish our collective spirit.
“Hey Ram” is not just a film about a distant historical moment; it is a parable for the dangers of communal hatred, political manipulation, and the fragile nature of societal harmony.
Its themes find unsettling relevance in Bangladesh today, where religious identity and political manoeuvring continue to create deep rifts in the nation’s social fabric.
The film’s exploration of how maleficent forces use communalism as a tool for power remains a timely warning—a warning that, if unheeded, risks dragging the country further into a vortex of violence and division.
