Shah Rukh Khan, Jawan, and the politics of National Awards, with fading credibility

While SRK himself, with his trademark humility and wit, expressed a word of gratitude in a video message to his fans on Instagram (“Overwhelmed with the love showered upon me. Half a hug to everyone today)”, the fact that he is a joint winner in the category, and shares it with Vikrant Massey — a supremely talented actor but nowhere close to SRK in star power — has raised eyebrows about the real intention behind the award to Shah Rukh Khan.

Many wonder, if it is a belated — 21 years, in this case, since SRK self-admittedly deserved a National Award for Swades — recognition of SRK, who began his acting career by playing a soldier in the popular Doordarshan series Fauji (1988), and became a household name after Raj Kanwar’s romantic drama Deewana released in 1992. Or is he being used as a tool to project Massey, a more pliable actor in the eyes of the regime, in the big league.

Co-opting the King

Whatever the case may be, this award, and its timing, cannot be read in isolation, especially considering how ‘calculative’ and ‘agenda-driven’ the film bodies, from the Directorate of Film Festivals (behind the National Film Awards), the Film Federation of India (FFI) and the Central Board of Film Certification (CBFC) have been. According to senior observers, this may be the Centre’s way to offer SRK a carrot since the stick failed to bend him.

In October 2021, when SRK’s 23-year-old son Aryan was jailed in a fabricated drugs case, trolls bayed for his blood. Showing tremendous strength of character, SRK made silence his shield. He didn’t show up on TV channels or flash a “Bharat Mata ki Jai.” He didn’t do interviews proclaiming love for the supreme leader. He stayed quiet, dignified, and seemingly unbothered. And then he did what he does best. Bouncing back, he responded with two blockbusters (Pathaan released months before Jawan); that were among the top hits of 2023. In fact, together, they owned the year.

Jawan, Shah Rukh Khan’s cinematic clapback, is the story of a man wronged by the system who rises to challenge it, expose its hypocrisy, and redeem his father’s name. Slick and entertaining, the film worked because behind all the pyrotechnics, there was something deeply personal at stake. It is angry, righteous, wounded, but also oddly hopeful. It wants change. It believes in the power of a good man with a good plan. It believes in the voter, the citizen, the common man. That’s as close to activism as mainstream Indian cinema has gotten in a while. So when Jawan is picked for a National Award, it’s hard not to ask: why now?

Also read: Shah Rukh Khan: The King of Bollywood who wears humanity like a second skin

It’s pretty clear to everyone by now that this government has had a complicated relationship with Bollywood. The industry that once had cozy dinners with the political elite has now found itself cornered, gaslit, and trolled. Ask Aamir Khan. Saif Ali Khan. Ask Anurag Kashyap. In fact, ask anyone who has made anything more nuanced than a flattering biopic of a ‘nationalist’ like Savarkar. But Shah Rukh? They tried, and he didn’t flinch. So what do you do when the King doesn’t bend? You try to co-opt him.

So, a government that once watched his son rot in jail for three weeks without evidence has decided to award him. For it knows that SRK is a brand, an emotion, and — if not a vote-bank — certainly someone with a power to appeal to a cross-section of people across age and religion. He’s loved by Hindus, Muslims, Christians, Sikhs, kids, grandmothers, Uber drivers, European tourists, and literally every third auntie even on the usual hate-spewing family WhatsApp group. Winning him over through an award is an image-building masterstroke (the right-wing loves the word, don’t they?), especially at a time when several states, including Bihar, West Bengal and Tamil Nadu, go to polls in the coming months.

Devaluation of diversity in cinema

The National Film Awards used to be about recognising well-made regional and independent cinema that pushed the boundaries. Over the years, however, they’ve become increasingly political. Not always in a bad way as cinema itself is political. But it’s worth noticing patterns. Who gets awarded? Who gets ignored? This year, the SRK win for Jawan is big because it’s neither an art-house film nor a state-approved feel-good fair. It’s not a “safe” choice, but a massy, commercial, unflinchingly political film. So when that gets the top honour, it tells us two things: The government wants to be seen as magnanimous. And maybe it’s finally realising that Bollywood isn’t going to keep playing nice without a few crumbs of respect thrown their way.

Also read: Shah Rukh Khan: Legend, Icon, Star review: Biography dives into the making of a demigod

The wave of discontent that’s sparked every edition of the National Film Awards since 2014 has left many to conclude that merit is too often sidelined in favour of political allegiance or conformity. Critics still remember when 24 filmmakers returned their awards en masse in 2015, protesting a rising intolerance and adding their names to the growing list of dissenting voices: Arundhati Roy, Saeed Mirza, and FTII students among them, demanding independence from governmental interference in art. As recently as 2018, over 60 awardees boycotted the ceremony when only 11 of hundreds were to receive their trophies from the President, a perceived insult to the dignity of the winners and the institution itself.

Over time, multiple op-eds and commentaries have made one thing clear: the National Film Awards are often used as soft power whether to court star power or placate members of the lobby. In the last few years, films like Tanhaji: The Unsung Warrior (2020), Uri: The Surgical Strike (2019), and Sardar Udham (2021), while technically sound, were seen by many as rewarded for their alignment with state-endorsed versions of history and patriotism, often at the cost of more subversive or socially relevant films like Prateek Vats’ Eeb Allay Ooo! (2021).

The 71st National Film Awards have only thrown those frustrations into sharp relief. Many were surprised to see Kathal: A Jackfruit Mystery named Best Hindi Film and not other critically acclaimed films like Three of Us or Joram. Even more controversial was the double win for The Kerala Story — Best Director (Sudipto Sen) and Best Cinematography (Prasantanu Mohapatra) — a film condemned for peddling Islamophobic tropes and misrepresenting Kerala’s social fabric.

That the jury ignored Blessy’s Aadujeevitham, starring Prithviraj Sukumaran — winner of 9 Kerala State Film Awards — and chose to honour a film whose factual inaccuracies were widely debunked, and which was effectively banned in several states, led to outrage not just among critics but from the Kerala government itself. Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan called the awards “a shameful endorsement of hate” and accused the jury of legitimising political propaganda in the name of art.

Jury Chair Ashutosh Gowariker defended the decision by claiming the film tackled a “difficult subject” and had “authentic visual storytelling,” but such explanations rang hollow. To many, the awards to The Kerala Story were all about rewarding films that align with the ideological mood of the Centre. The outrage is about the systematic devaluation of Indian cinema’s diversity, the erasure of dissenting voices, and the legitimisation of films that reinforce majoritarian narratives. What was once a platform to champion underrepresented stories has, in the eyes of many filmmakers and audiences, become yet another instrument of cultural control.