Filmmaker Tigmanshu Dhulia recently argued that the rising tide of Islamophobia in Indian society has made its way into Hindi cinema. Speaking at the Editors Guild of India’s Rajendra Mathur Memorial Lecture in New Delhi on September 4, 2026, Dhulia said filmmakers are part of the same society in which anti-Muslim propaganda has grown like a cancerous growth. The changing political and social environment, he suggested, has inevitably influenced the stories being told on screen.
Dhulia’s observation deserves serious attention. Bollywood has long projected itself as an industry that celebrates India’s diversity and pluralism. Yet that image increasingly sits uneasily alongside the portrayal of Muslims in a growing number of mainstream films. Muslim characters are often presented as terrorists, extremists, antagonists, outsiders or threats to the nation.
This is an uncomfortable reality that deserves greater public discussion.
It is often said that if one wants to understand the social environment of a country, one should watch its popular cinema. Films do more than entertain. They reflect prevailing attitudes, reinforce stereotypes and, at times, help shape public perceptions.
Over the past several decades, a number of recurring themes have emerged in Bollywood’s treatment of Muslims. One is the “Muslim-as-terrorist” trope, particularly in films dealing with Kashmir, militancy, radicalization and cross-border terrorism. Another is the patriotic war film, in which Pakistan frequently serves as the principal antagonist. A third is the historical epic in which medieval Muslim rulers are depicted primarily as cruel invaders and oppressors, while their Hindu or regional opponents are portrayed as heroic defenders.
Taken individually, these films may have different artistic intentions. Viewed collectively, however, they reveal a pattern that is difficult to ignore.
The Muslim-as-Terrorist Trope
The association of Muslims with terrorism has appeared repeatedly in Hindi cinema, particularly in films dealing with Kashmir and national security.
Roja (1992), for instance, places a Tamil family in Kashmir and centres on the kidnapping of the husband by militants. Sarfarosh (1999) deals with cross-border terrorism and features Muslim characters in antagonistic roles. Fiza (2000) explores radicalization against the backdrop of the 1993 Bombay riots, while Kurbaan (2009) revolves around a woman who discovers that her husband is involved in a terrorist network.
More recent films have reinforced the association between terrorism, Pakistan and Muslim identity. Uri: The Surgical Strike (2019) dramatizes India’s retaliatory military operation against terrorists, while 72 Hoorain (2019) depicts suicide attackers motivated by extremist interpretations of religious reward. Sooryavanshi (2021) revolves around an anti-terrorism operation, and The Kerala Story (2023) portrays women being radicalized and recruited into ISIS.
Films such as The Kashmir Files (2022) have also brought the suffering of Kashmiri Pandits during the insurgency of the 1990s into the centre of national debate. The suffering depicted in such films is real and deserves recognition. The concern, however, arises when complex historical conflicts are presented primarily through a communal lens, with Muslims collectively associated with violence and victimization.
The cumulative effect of such representations matters. When Muslim characters repeatedly appear as terrorists, extremists or conspirators, audiences can begin to associate an entire religious community with criminality and national insecurity.
Patriotism and the Pakistan Narrative
Bollywood’s use of Pakistan as an antagonist is not new. Indian cinema has produced patriotic and military films for decades, particularly since the wars of 1965 and 1971.
Films such as Hindustan Ki Kasam, Aakraman, Border, LOC: Kargil, Lakshya, Gadar: Ek Prem Katha, Raazi, Shershaah and Bhuj: The Pride of India have drawn on wars, border conflicts, espionage and national security.
Patriotism itself is not objectionable, nor is criticism of Pakistan inherently anti-Muslim. India and Pakistan have fought wars and remain geopolitical rivals. Cinema has every right to tell those stories.
The problem begins when the distinction between the Pakistani state, Islamist militancy and ordinary Muslims becomes blurred. In some films, Pakistan is not merely a geopolitical adversary; Muslim identity itself becomes shorthand for the enemy.
This distinction is especially important in India, where more than 200 million Muslims are citizens of the country. Treating Pakistan and Indian Muslims as part of the same cultural or political category risks reinforcing a dangerous stereotype: that an Indian Muslim’s national loyalty is somehow suspect.
Rewriting History on the Screen
The third major trend is visible in historical epics and period dramas.
Films such as Padmaavat (2018), Tanhaji: The Unsung Warrior (2020), Samrat Prithviraj (2022) and Chhaava (2025) revisit conflicts involving Muslim rulers and Hindu or regional kingdoms. Historical cinema naturally involves interpretation and dramatization. But when centuries-old conflicts are presented through a simplistic Hindu-versus-Muslim framework, history can become a vehicle for contemporary political messaging.
In Padmaavat, Alauddin Khilji is depicted as a ruthless and obsessive conqueror. Tanhaji presents the conflict between Maratha forces and the Mughal Empire through a strongly heroic nationalist framework. Samrat Prithviraj centres on the conflict between Prithviraj Chauhan and Muhammad Ghori, while Chhaava dramatizes the confrontation between Chhatrapati Sambhaji and Mughal emperor Aurangzeb.
The issue is not whether these historical figures should be portrayed critically. They should. The question is whether historical complexity is being replaced by a binary narrative in which Muslim rulers represent oppression while Hindu rulers invariably represent resistance and patriotism.
Such storytelling can transform medieval history into a contemporary communal grievance.
The Post-2014 Transformation
Bollywood’s changing representation of Muslims cannot be attributed to one political party or one government. The transformation began much earlier.
The political upheavals of the 1980s and 1990s, the Ram Janmabhoomi movement, the demolition of the Babri Masjid, the Kashmir insurgency, the India-Pakistan conflict, the collapse of the Soviet Union and India’s economic liberalization all contributed to a new political and cultural environment.
The terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, and subsequent global developments also transformed the way Muslims and Islam were represented internationally. Terrorism became a dominant cinematic theme, and Bollywood was not immune to this trend.
However, the political environment after 2014 gave these narratives a new intensity. The BJP’s rise under Narendra Modi coincided with an increasingly polarized public discourse and the growing influence of majoritarian politics. Bollywood did not create this polarization, but sections of the industry have increasingly reflected it.
Since 2014, several high-budget Hindi films have centred on military retaliation, terrorism, cross-border operations, religious conversion and historical conflicts involving Muslim rulers. Some have been openly celebrated by sections of the political right and have become part of broader ideological debates.
This does not mean that every film featuring a Muslim villain is anti-Muslim, or that every patriotic film is propaganda. Such a sweeping conclusion would be neither fair nor analytically useful.
But patterns matter.
When the same community is repeatedly associated with terrorism, separatism, religious extremism and historical oppression, the cumulative message can become more powerful than the intention of any individual filmmaker.
When Prejudice Becomes Profitable
There is also a commercial dimension to this phenomenon.
Bollywood is a business. Producers make films they believe will attract audiences. If stories built around hyper-nationalism, terrorism and communal conflict generate box-office success, the financial incentive to produce more of them becomes obvious.
Prejudice can therefore become commercially profitable.
The political ecosystem surrounding cinema matters as well. Television news channels and what critics call “Godi media” can amplify controversial films, turning them into political events rather than simply cinematic releases. Social media further accelerates this process by allowing provocative scenes and dialogue to circulate far beyond the cinema hall.
Questions also arise when governments provide tax exemptions or other official support to politically controversial films. Such measures can be interpreted as more than economic incentives; they can lend an appearance of official legitimacy to the narratives contained in those films.
The same applies to the broader cultural environment in which films dealing with alleged forced conversions, “love jihad” or Islamic conspiracies are promoted as revelations rather than contested political narratives.
Cinema Shapes Social Attitudes
The most serious concern is what these portrayals do outside the cinema hall.
India’s Muslims are not simply a cinematic category. They are neighbours, colleagues, shopkeepers, teachers, students, artists, soldiers and citizens who share the same country with people of other faiths.
Yet repeated negative portrayals can create psychological distance between communities. When audiences repeatedly see Muslims portrayed as terrorists, infiltrators or conspirators, stereotypes can become normalized.
Cinema does not automatically create hatred. People are influenced by many factors, including family, education, politics, religion, news media and personal experience. But cinema can reinforce prejudices that already exist.
That is why representation matters.
A Muslim villain is not necessarily an anti-Muslim stereotype. A film about terrorism is not necessarily Islamophobic. A historical film about a Muslim ruler is not necessarily communal propaganda.
The problem lies in repetition, context and framing.
If Muslim characters are overwhelmingly defined by their religious identity, while Hindu characters are more often presented as ordinary citizens, heroes or victims, the imbalance itself becomes meaningful.
Bollywood’s Responsibility
The responsibility for this trend does not rest solely with filmmakers. Producers, audiences, distributors, media organizations and political actors all contribute to determining which stories succeed.
The Central Board of Film Certification also has a role in ensuring that cinema does not become a vehicle for incitement or the systematic dehumanization of a community. At the same time, censorship should not be used to suppress legitimate artistic or political expression.
The better answer is not to prohibit films about terrorism, Pakistan, Kashmir or medieval history. It is to encourage more complex storytelling.
Bollywood has demonstrated repeatedly that it is capable of nuanced representations of Muslims and Muslim societies. It can tell stories about terrorism without treating Muslims as a monolith. It can depict India-Pakistan conflict without portraying every Pakistani or Indian Muslim as an enemy. It can revisit medieval history without turning historical figures into contemporary communal symbols.
The industry simply needs the willingness to do so.
Conclusion
Bollywood’s ideological transformation did not happen overnight. Its roots can be traced to the political and social upheavals of the 1990s. In the 2000s, terrorism and national security became increasingly prominent themes. After 2014, these narratives increasingly intersected with an assertive form of majoritarian nationalism.
The result is a body of popular cinema in which Muslims are too often associated with terrorism, national disloyalty, religious extremism or historical oppression.
That should concern anyone who believes in India’s pluralistic tradition.
Cinema reflects society, but it can also shape society. When prejudice is repeatedly packaged as entertainment, it risks becoming normalized. When historical grievances are turned into contemporary communal narratives, they can deepen divisions that already exist.
Bollywood does not need to abandon patriotism. It does not need to stop making war films. It does not need to avoid controversial chapters of Indian history.
It needs to tell those stories with greater honesty, complexity and historical responsibility.
India’s Muslims are not a cinematic trope. They are an integral part of India’s history, culture and present.
If Bollywood wishes to preserve its reputation as a diverse and pluralistic film industry, that diversity must be visible not only in its music, casting and locations, but also in the stories it tells and the people it chooses to portray as heroes, villains and victims.
The question is not whether Bollywood should make political films.
The real question is whether popular cinema should become an instrument for normalizing communal prejudice.
That is a question the Hindi film industry can no longer afford to ignore.
Syed Ali Mujtaba is a journalist based in Chennai.
Comments
Post a Comment
NOTE: Hateful, abusive comments won't be published. -- Editor