Written by Neeraj Bunkar
The trailer of Phule, a film poised to portray the revolutionary lives of Jyotirao and Savitribai Phule, unveiled on March 24, hinted at a grand depiction of this iconic couple who challenged Brahminical hegemony, championed widow remarriage, educated the oppressed — especially girls — and fostered rationality against religious dogma. For Phule to truly honour its subjects, it had to showcase their radicalism unflinchingly — confronting caste, exposing the hypocrisies of Hindu orthodoxy, and dismantling social norms entrenched for millennia. In an industry that often cloaks caste under the guise of class, this felt like a potential breakthrough — a mainstream film daring to grapple with India’s most enduring fault line.
However, the film’s journey has hit a snag. Originally slated for release on April 11 — Jyotiba Phule’s birth anniversary— it’s now delayed to April 25. The reason? Protests from groups like the All-India Brahmin Samaj and Parashuram Aarthik Vikas Mahamandal, who allege it degrades Brahmins and fuels casteism. Compounding this, the Central Board of Film Certification (CBFC) has intervened, excising or altering scenes that depict the historical oppression the Phules fought. The irony is palpable: A film about a couple who battled caste supremacy is being censored to satisfy the very social order they opposed.
Consider the edits. A visual of a man with a broom tied to his waist — a historical reference to Shudras forced to erase their footprints under Peshwa rule — has been replaced with boys throwing cow dung at Savitribai. The original is a visceral symbol of humiliation, rooted in documented practice; the substitute, while evocative, dilutes its specificity and historical weight. Dialogue fares no better. A line addressing how “Jahan shudra ko jhadu bandhkar chalna chahiye”— an unapologetic nod to “lower caste” dehumanisation — now reads, “Kya yahi hamari sabse doori banake rakhni chahiye?” This shifts a searing indictment into a vague philosophical musing, stripping it of its sting.
Similarly, a critique of India’s three-thousand-year caste slavery, originally explicit, is reduced to “Kai saal purani hain,” erasing its timeline and subtly deflecting pre-British accountability. Caste-specific terms like “Mang” and “Mahar,” central to Dalit resistance, were deemed too raw, swapped for euphemisms like “aise choti choti,” as if the labels, not the oppression, offend.
Subtitles replace “caste” with “varna,” a term often wielded by defenders of Hindu orthodoxy to argue classification-by-occupation, not birth—a sanitisation that distorts reality. These edits don’t just soften the narrative; they rewrite history, smoothing over the jagged edges of the Phules’ fight.
The Phules’ radicalism lay in naming their enemy: A caste order propped by religious authority and enforced through ritual and violence. They didn’t just critique; they acted — opening schools for girls, defying threats, and building alternatives grounded in reason and equality. To depict them otherwise betrays their legacy. Yet, the CBFC’s logic seems to suggest a perverse inversion: Those perpetuating casteism aren’t casteists — those exposing it are. This mirrors a broader hypocrisy. Right-wing leaders laud Jyotiba Phule, garlanding his statues, yet recoil when his ideas threaten their worldview. Organisations defending Brahminical legacy cry foul when their historical role is laid bare, claiming it fosters division — yet they rarely question the casteism embedded in their traditions.
The CBFC, meant to be a neutral arbiter, is often dominated by Brahmin or Savarna voices. In a nation where over 80 per cent of the population are Dalit or OBC, why is portraying their oppression — and the Phules’ resistance — so contentious?
The postponement and sanitisation of Phule raise unsettling questions. The Phules’ lives were a clarion call against amnesia, a demand for accountability. I once hoped Phule would mark a shift — a mainstream film confronting caste head-on. Now, I fear it’s another casualty of a system that prefers erasure to reckoning. The Phules deserve better. So does India, a nation still wrestling with the shadows they sought to dispel.
The writer is a PhD research scholar at Nottingham Trent University, Nottingham, United Kingdom