Sanjay Leela Bhansali
As Sanjay Leela Bhansali brings cinema to the Republic Day parade for the first time, the celebration raises harder questions about appropriation of cinema to push nationalist agenda, power, culture and control
Filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali, Bollywood’s undisputed sultan of splendour, has been tasked with conceptualising the Indian cinema tableau, ‘Bharat Gatha (India’s Saga)’, with singer Shreya Ghoshal crooning an especially composed song, for tomorrow’s Republic Day parade. Announced by the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting, this marks the first time a director has been invited to represent the film industry in the annual event, a decision that is, on the surface, aimed at showcasing cinema’s growing role as a soft power in India’s cultural diplomacy.
On the surface, the decision appears overdue and uncontroversial. Cinema has been one of India’s most influential and visible cultural imports for over a century, shaping popular imagination, language, music, and collective memory. To finally acknowledge it during the nation’s most important ceremonial display seems both logical and celebratory.
However, amid the fanfare and the talks of this being ‘a landmark move’ and ‘a historic milestone for Indian cinema’, questions are being raised as to whether Bhansali’s selection for this is a calculated move by the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) to appropriate in a grand way what’s inarguably the most effective tool of mass media. While this may come across as the state’s altruistic decision to put cinema front and centre, many also see this as part of the government’s ongoing nationalist project.
The centre’s narrative push
“Behind the scenes, there is a clear narrative push coming from the Centre. There will reportedly be a reenactment of ‘Operation Sindoor’ as part of the tableau. The Republic Day is meant to be a celebration of the Constitution, of the secular rights it guarantees. The parade is more than a military showcase; it’s also a cultural extravaganza: states displaying their unique art forms, cultures and histories,” says someone working closely with the government.
“Even the military music, with its brass bands, is about more than might; it represents the country’s strength from multiple dimensions. It’s unfortunate that the government is appropriating that platform,” she says, adding that “it’s not surprising that Bhansali has been roped in for the task since he is someone quite malleable. He bowed to the pressures of the Rajput group Karni Sena after they protested over Padmavat (2018).”
Bhansali, 62, brings a portfolio of opulent historical dramas to the assignment. In Padmaavat, based on Malik Muhammad Jayasi’s 16th-century allegorical poem, Bhansali depicted Rajput queen Padmavati’s defiance against Sultan Alauddin Khilji; the film drew ire from Rajput groups for alleged historical distortions. Protests escalated to violence, with sets vandalised and threats issued against lead actor Deepika Padukone. The Central Board of Film Certification mandated changes, including a title tweak from Padmavati to Padmaavat and disclaimers clarifying its fictional elements. Bhansali obliged. Despite the uproar, the film earned him accolades for direction and music at the National Film Awards.
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Indian cinema and media form a big, fast-growing sector of the country’s cultural economy: Indian box office grossed about Rs 11,833 crore (US$1.36 bn) in 2024 (second only to 2023), with regional industries expanding and digital/OTT revenues rising across the market. Reports from Ormax, PwC and industry trackers show the sector’s size, output (roughly 2,000 feature films annually) and rising digital revenues. Bhansali is known for high-production-value period pieces and his brand of cinema is literally suited to a moving parade float. His résumé (Devdas, Bajirao Mastani, Padmaavat, Gangubai Kathiawadi, Heeramandi) makes him an obvious pick for the razzmatazz the I-B ministry has in mind.
A model of compliance
Some say that the fact that Bhansali’s work often romanticises a version of Indian history that glorifies Hindu kings and queens from the past also fits neatly into the BJP’s push for narratives that highlight national pride. His 2015 epic Bajirao Mastani, starring Ranveer Singh and Deepika Padukone, the story of the forbidden love between Maratha Peshwa Bajirao I and Mastani, a warrior princess, had secured seven National Awards. Others argue that his films perpetuate stereotypes: Women are frequently depicted as symbols of purity and endurance, like Aishwarya Rai's character in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam (1999).
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Bhansali’s aesthetics, though stunning, often glosses over systemic issues like caste and gender inequality. For instance, Gangubai Kathiawadi (2022), which earned Alia Bhatt a National Award for her portrayal of a brothel madam, has been accused of romanticising exploitation. His latest, the Netflix series Heeramandi: The Diamond Bazaar (2024), the story of Lahore’s courtesan culture during India’s freedom struggle, boasted great production design but messed up historical facts, a recurring accusation against him.
In recent years, the Centre has favoured creators who avoid overt political critique. Bollywood itself has faced increasing interference under the Modi administration, with tax investigations targeting stars like Taapsee Pannu and Anurag Kashyap, who are known to be outspoken. The same has happened to many stars in the South. Bhansali, who dealt with the Padmaavat storm without public confrontation, has emerged as a model of compliance.
The stakes are high
I-B Ministry officials have described it as a celebration of cinema’s contribution to nation-building, aligning with Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s vision of leveraging soft power. At the 2023 G20 Summit, Bollywood elements were prominently featured in cultural showcases in an attempt to integrate entertainment into state diplomacy. However, state recognition, especially at this scale, is not distributed evenly across the cultural field. Filmmakers whose work unsettles the regime rarely receive such institutional endorsement. Those whose aesthetics align with national myth-making are far more likely to be showered with such opportunities and incentives.
This is not unique to India, but it is particularly consequential at a moment when artists are increasingly aware of the risks attached to dissent. For the record, I am not hinting here that all this diminishes Bhansali’s craft nor do I deny the emotional power of his cinema. Bharat Gatha will almost certainly be visually arresting, musically stirring, and spectacularly executed. As a spectacle, it is likely to succeed. But Republic Day is not merely about spectacle or optics. It is about diversity and the uneasy coexistence of difference. When cinema enters this space, the question is not whether it looks impressive, but what version of itself it chooses to present.
As crowds gather along Kartavya Path tomorrow, Bhansali’s tableau will undoubtedly capture the imagination of those interested in cinema. But beyond the dazzle, it prompts a critical reflection: In anointing one director, does the state broaden cinema’s representation, or narrow it to fit a preferred script? With India’s film industry contributing Rs 183 billion to the economy in 2023 and influencing global perceptions, the stakes are high. And the Centre is only too aware of this.
