How Naresh Kanodia became a victim of the 'rumour landmines'

On a rainy Friday last week, Twitterati woke up to a particularly outrageous piece of news. A tweet was doing the rounds announcing the government’s decision to appoint Naresh Kanodia, a Gujarati actor, to head the jury which selects India’s official entry to the Oscars. Since the tweet came from a highly acclaimed, genius filmmaker a lot of people believed it, despite him mentioning that it was strictly a rumour. He also hashtagged it #NotThatItMatters. Nothing wrong with it. This article is not about that tweet. It’s about what some people did with that tweet.  

Some enthusiastic 'liberals' picked up that tweet, deleted "rumour" and the hashtag from it and attached a picture of Kanodia holding a trishul- a symbol of Hinduism. Some other journalists jumped onto the bandwagon and called it Modi’s new saffron blockbuster after the Censor Board and FTII. It was a general perception that the Film Federation of India, which appoints the jury, is a government body. It gave more power to those who want to further attack and embarrass the government, which is already fighting a battle of perception at FTII. 

For those who don’t know Naresh Kanodia, he is a veteran Gujarati film actor whose career spans four decades and more than 60 films. Wow! Even if that is half the truth, it is a big achievement, as it is incredible to survive in this business of ephemeral perceptions. My Gujarati friends tell me that he is highly respected and a friend even called him the Rajinikanth of Gujarat.  

But on that rainy day, Kanodia was becoming a subject of ridicule, jokes and humiliation. The charge against him was visual- the trishul. This wasn’t the first time a film character had used religious symbolism. Be it Billa no 786 of Deewar’s Vijay or a ‘Gada’ pendant in Bajrangi Bhaijaan. But Kanodia is no Bachchan or Salman. He is a Hindu from Modi’s Gujarat and he was holding a trishul. For obvious reasons, he was a soft target to attack Modi. The timing was right. Just a day before, the police had arrested five FTII students. There was a fringe belief that the Modi government was appointing incompetent people in places of artistic and cultural importance. 

Oscar juries in India have always been riddled with controversy, but these arise only after the jury’s selection of the film. This was the first time a controversy erupted even before the Film Federation of India appointed a full jury. There was outrage saying that it was an attack on meritocracy, competence, liberty and freedom of speech and how Modi’s government was taking us on a regressive path by saffronising India. As usual, it became a Modi-supporters vs Modi-haters fight. Freedom of expression lovers vs its obstructors. Left vs Right. Or at least that’s how it seemed. First, the Censor Board, then FTII and now the Film Federation of India was in the midst of a political controversy.

Even I believed the news because a journalist friend, who is also in the editorial team of a leading magazine, endorsed it. But what came across was a hidden joy, a streak of celebration and the jubilant nature of the tweets.

It was assumed that the Film Federation of India is a government body and that Modi and RSS had chosen a Gujarati, a Hindu icon, to head the jury so that a Hindu film is sent to Oscars to advance its ‘Virat Hindu’ ambition. Really? I questioned.

First of all, films aren’t Hindu or Islamic. Secondly, a chairman can’t influence the entire jury, which I was sure can’t be full of trishul and shankh-holding Hindus. So I made a call. I called Suparn Sen, Secretary General, Film Federation of India who informed me that Amol Palekar is heading the jury. Second, he said he had given all the information to a leading Mumbai-based newspaper but they chose not to print it until after 4-5 days. But it was finally published with Kanodia’s picture holding a trishul. In a fair world, it should have been Amol Palekar’s photo. Kanodia is just one of the members of a large jury and he also happens to be there because the jury must have regional representation. To represent Gujarat, Kanodia is a perfect choice. But he was made to look like a male version of ‘Radhe Maa’.   

A rumour was manufactured, endorsed and circulated by very eminent citizens, without any fact or basis. It’s a shame that neither film professionals nor film journalists bothered to make a call to FFI, to check and verify. I realised that like a red beacon doesn’t mean real authority, blue ticks on Twitter don’t necessarily mean credibility.

Who are these people?

If you have read about wars, you must know about landmines. Combatants use landmines in wars for personnel or vehicular damage. Landmines are laid in the ground or below the surface and when the enemy or their vehicles goes over, it explodes, incurring damage. After the war ends, their utility and relevance must also end, but it’s been noticed that long after hostilities are over, these landmines continue to be active under the surface. The army, which plants landmines, doesn’t bother to diffuse them before leaving enemy territory and these landmines continue to threaten, maim and kill indiscriminately. Such landmines are called explosive remnants of war (ERW). Yes, deadly remnants of war.

India has fought its war with poverty and a mixed, confused political ideology. We carried the burden of socialism for decades and until the collapse of Russia and the advent of liberalisation. With globalisation and capitalism, Nehru’s socialist utopia was overtaken by the consumerism and materialistic greed of a hungry population. The Left’s role in Indian democratic politics started diminishing. Some of the extreme Leftists joined the Naxal movement. Some joined government bodies, research councils, NGOs, media, universities and so on. While some were planting landmines in the ground in tribal areas – the warfront, some were planting landmines in news, views, opinions and therefore, in people’s minds.  These people are generally known as liberals. One group spread its fight against the state with real terrorism of guns, ambush and killings, whereas another promulgated its fight with intellectual terrorism.

Congress ran a dynastic government fed on sycophancy. They wanted endorsement from the media and intellectuals to justify their guilt and unworthiness. They couldn’t fight the Naxals on the ground, but bought over the others by rewarding them with top appointments, foreign study tours and many unofficial favours. State-power is addictive. A change in the government means denial of this addiction. It’s proven that when you put an addict in a rehab, he tends to see it as personal enmity. No wonder lots of people have taken their political opposition with Modi to a personal level. There aren’t too many true Leftists left today. If any, they are fragmented, isolated and unheard. Among the fragments of liberals are remnants of the Congress regime; some rich yet disgruntled journalists, some NGO entrepreneurs and some creative, humanities professionals. They benefited from the Congress-Modi war. They created a huge enemy in Modi who ended up becoming the protagonist of this narrative and got obsessed with his persona. Their job was to further Congress’ cause but they became a ‘black hole’ for Congress and sucked it in. With Congress routed out of power, they don’t have real utility. In the absence of real reason and real fight, they use rumours, misinformation, selective quotes and conspiracy theories as tactics.

These are the ‘rumour landmines’.

‘Rumour landmines’ are fast and they can blast in the absence of a clear standard of context; the line between true information and misinformation becomes blurred. These ‘rumour landmines’ have understood that given the speed with which information can disseminate through the web and social media, the potential for the spread of fallacious information through rumours has increased greatly. In the era of the internet and Photoshop, it is easy to spread false or misleading rumours about anyone. As long as it eventually damages Modi’s image.

Digital footprint has longevity. For all practical purposes, it may even be permanent. Now, whenever anyone will think of Kanodia, they will first think of a trishul and then of Modi. Gajendra Chauhan’s appointment was wrong because he was not competent enough to head a board of over-competent professionals. But now, when you think of him, you think of a B-grade film actor and not Yudhishtir of BR Chopra’s Mahabharat, and you see Modi standing behind him as Krishna. That’s the impact of ‘rumour landmines’.

After the Fall of Saigon in April 1975 and the end of the War, Vietnam was left with the legacy of American landmines. It took them years to sanitise their land off these landmines. I think after the fall of Congress, Modi is left with the legacy of ‘rumour landmines’. A perfect post-war tool. In Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan, Gulf, Israel, Africa or even our own Bastar and wherever there has been a war, there have been remnant landmines, killing innocent civilians. The term ‘mine victim’ is, therefore, used to refer to persons killed or injured due to these remnant landmines.

Naresh Kanodia, on that rainy day, became yet another victim of a ‘rumour landmine’.

The author is a film-maker, writer and motivational speaker.