The Thought Haversack
https://thethoughthaversack.home.blog/2019/06/01/the-more-things-change-the-more-they-stay-the-same/
The More Things Change, The More They Stay The Same
ON JUNE 1, 2019 BY SUMEDHA RAIKAR IN CINEMA
On a midweek day, I wanted to catch up with an old movie for a quitet evening. As I surfed the choices in my collection, the Satyajit Ray-directed Bengali feature Ganashatru attracted my attention. The choice was unlikely because the film is shot in a dull indoor location; it is not counted among Ray’s masterpieces. Being an adaptation of Henrik Ibsen’s 1882 play En folkefiende(The Enemy of the People), the movie relies heavily on a verbal discourse. It gets wordier towards the end. Ray is said to have chosen the play because of personal health reasons. He was not in a position to handle a demanding outdoor locale, which is why he turned inward — into the dark recesses of the human mind where a lot of drama generates.
However, my reasons for revisiting Ganashatru were personal. The movie was released in 1989, the year I took up my first job at The Sunday Observer. My office was in Mumbai’s Fort area, a few blocks away from the Eros theatre where I watched Ganashatru in the 11 am slot. That was thirty years ago. I was a reporter-writer in the Sunday paper. I had just begun to watch the milestone Ray films. My interest in Ganashatru rested on the fact that its lead doctor hero, played by Soumitra Chatterji, was the Apu of Apur Sansar. That was enough of a reference point for me to enjoy the 100-minute film, which adapts Ibsen’s script set in a small town in Norway where a doctor refuses to be silenced about the health threat in the public baths. He hurts the vested interests of those marketing the town’s springs as a one-stop cure. Ray’s story is set in the tourist temple town Chandipur (West Bengal) where an upright doctor dares to object to the charanamrit — holy water offered at the feet of the Lord and given to devotees. The doctor thus becomes the enemy of the people. His views on the contaminated holy water is perceived as an insult to God; the laboratory evidence he cites is not paid heed to. When he decides to write about the contamination, and its connection with the outbreak of Hepatitis in Chandipur, the municipal body of the town (in which his manipulative brother is a top boss) wages a personal attack on the doctor. The doctor’s family is ostracised and he is not allowed to address a public meeting to share his viewpoint.
When I watched the movie in 1989, the Ram Temple construction issue had just begun to raise its head. My paper, and most mainline dailies, were sending correspondents to Uttar Pradesh to get fresh dispatches from the disputed site. The Vishwa Hindu Parishad had declared its intent to build a temple in Ayodhya in a plot of land where a controversial structure stood. India’s intelligentsia declared that the row was engineered to appease the Hindu majority; whereas those supporting the VHP felt it was the legitimate right of any Hindu to build a Lord Rama temple in his birthplace.
I found Ganashatru relevant in my political context in 1989. Ray had shown how easily political forces influence public opinion over matters of faith. He also demonstrated how and why matters of public health and safety are deliberately misconstrued by vested interests. The doctor in the movie speaks in the larger public interest, with no personal gain in mind. He has no takers because there are two types of people around him — a majority which is blinded by superstitious faith and a clever manipulative section which is too politically-monetarily motivated to listen to an opposing viewpoint. The plot was identifiable.
After a passage of 30 years, as I watched Ganashatru in my drawing room, I felt our public discourse is still dominated by matters of faith. Temples, mosques, churches remain our focal points of debate. Little has changed in the way we, as Indians, react to anything in the realm of religion. These reactions are getting harsher by the day, more so on social media platforms where a contrary viewpoint has the potential to create a riot. We have become technologically advanced, sharing news nuggets with a zapping speed. We have gotten into a vicious circle — the more we claim to have changed and evolved, the more we stay the same. Our public reactions follow a set pattern. Over the years, we have chosen not to listen to the voices of reason — either river conservationists, or habitat restorers or anti-plastic campaigners.
Ganashatru left me thinking. The movie’s poor production values and trite ending was not the point of worry for me. But I was unhappy to see that the movie’s plot worked, made sense, in today’s context; its characters represented real people in our everyday life in Mumbai, Kolkata, Chandipur and most other places. Hopefully, one day we will have more patience for listening to a contrary view; hopefully we will have discerning eyes to realize the real enemy of the people!
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