A film based on the life and legacy of Jyotiba Phule and Savitribai Phule was expected to release today. Instead, its release has been pushed to the last week of April. The reason? Protests by self-proclaimed guardians of caste pride—certain Brahmin groups—and forced edits demanded by a thoroughly discredited Censor Board.
I do not usually follow the happenings in the tinsel town, especially when it involves biopics on historical figures. Experience has taught me caution. More often than not, filmmakers take excessive creative liberties, distorting historical facts and fabricating narratives. Today, mainstream Hindi cinema has become a vehicle for Hindutva propaganda, drawing its inspiration not from scholarship but from WhatsApp forwards.
It is utterly hypocritical that the same Censor Board which shamelessly cleared propaganda films like The Kashmir Files, The Kerala Story, and sensationalized portrayals of Indira Gandhi, is now demanding cuts from a film on the Phules. What offends them? That the film allegedly contains "anti-Brahmin" sentiments. This is not just ironic, it is revealing.
Jyotiba Phule was not merely a critic of Brahmanism—he was a visionary who offered a progressive, humanist alternative to one of the most entrenched caste-based systems in the world. The Satyashodhak Samaj, which he and Savitribai championed, stood for truth, equality, and social justice—values that still challenge the casteist orthodoxy.
Anyone even slightly acquainted with the lives of Jyotiba and Savitribai Phule would attest to their unmatched courage and commitment. Few couples in Indian history have been as revolutionary. The cruelty and humiliation Savitribai endured from the Peshwa-era Brahmins are well documented. So too is the brutal caste order that prevailed in the Peshwa state and the Travancore kingdom, where Dalit women were once forbidden from covering their upper bodies.
That the Brahmanical elite feel threatened by the Phules being portrayed on screen is no surprise. For too long, they’ve controlled the narrative. But times are changing. Ambedkarite intellectuals and Dalit-Bahujan filmmakers are rising, telling their own stories through documentaries, books, and cinema. The monopoly is breaking—and that is the real reason behind this uproar.
Let us be clear: neither Phule, Ambedkar, nor Periyar ever hated individual Brahmins. What they opposed was Brahmanism—the ideology of caste superiority. Phule’s first school for girls was established specifically to educate Brahmin widows, as he recognized the plight of women within even the so-called 'upper' castes.
Jyotiba and Savitribai lived their beliefs. They adopted a child born to a widowed mother—naming him Yashwant Rao Phule—and raised him as their own. Yashwant Rao carried their legacy forward with dedication and humility. This is the kind of moral strength and humanism India must celebrate—across castes, across communities.
A film on the Phules, if made well, has the power to inspire India’s youth—if only they can look beyond caste identities and toxic pride. The Censor Board cannot be allowed to act as the moral police of Brahmanical pride. Its decisions must be challenged. The filmmakers must not bow to pressure. They must approach the judiciary and demand justice.
It is deeply unfortunate that the release of Phule has been delayed for all the wrong reasons. The Supreme Court should take suo motu cognizance. After all, critiquing Brahmanism is not hate speech—it is part of India's long march from hierarchy to equality, from ritualism to rationalism, from casteism to constitutionalism.
Phule, Ambedkar, and Periyar symbolize the soul of modern India—rooted in rationality, equality, and human dignity. Let us honor their legacy and ensure that future generations are not denied their rightful heroes.
A revolutionary salute to Jyotiba Phule and Savitribai Phule.
---
*Human rights defender
Comments