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Editorial
comment For
the layperson only theory Willing
propagandists Over to
Bollywood
As it happened, there were
a few thinking people among the audiences who came home and wrote stories
about how they were duped into watching a ‘propaganda film’, funded by
no less than the ISPR without even acknowledging and so on. And that set the ball
rolling. What is it that distinguishes art from propaganda and isn’t all
art propaganda to start with. This is the subject of
today’s Special Report — the art of propaganda films. We have
deliberately excluded documentary film from our scope because documentary is
clearly understood to be propagandist in nature. So how much of propaganda
does a feature film allow before it qualifies to be called art? How does one
industry vary from the other in terms of its treatment of propaganda and
what forms the propaganda content? Apart from a discussion on
the content of Waar, the two major industries we have looked at in terms of
content are Hollywood and Bollywood. The advantages of a functional industry
come in handy (something that a film like Waar did not have) and propaganda
is sold, without any suspicions. This is because, as Sarwat Ali says, the
film is “closest to being a layman’s medium”. It is one medium where
the surface meaning is more cogently received than the underlying meaning,
he says. Hence the temptation to use it for propaganda purposes. In our own context, where
there is enough of statist propaganda and very little of quality cinema,
perhaps the content is as important as other production values. This is just
a thought we want to leave for our future film-makers and their sponsors.
I am not a film
critic, nor is this article meant to be a review. This article simply offers
some comments about the content of the newly-released film Waar, the issues
raised in it and how they resonate with a certain class of Pakistani
urbanites. This much-anticipated film
was in the works for almost three years. Tipped as one of the most expensive
films in the history of film-making in Pakistan, with funds supposedly
coming from the coffers of military’s information wing, i.e. ISPR, there
was much hype about Waar because of its foreign-qualified film director,
Bilal Lashari. Previously, the military
was accused of influencing Pakistan’s print and electronic media (and more
recently social media as well) through various means but their sponsorship
for this film shows that is now eager to expand its influence to the film
industry as well. The very fact that the
film received partial funding and technical assistance from ISPR, does not
come as a surprise considering that Waar is primarily a propaganda film. Its
avowed aim is to boost up the morale of Pakistani law-enforcement agencies,
particularly police, and those civilians who have been getting a raw deal
during the course of war on terror. The film revolves around
the team members of an anti-terrorist unit which has been entrusted with the
task of finding a dangerous terrorist, Raman (played by Shamoon Abbasi), who
infiltrates into Pakistan from Kashmir. It does not require too much of an
intellect to figure out that this terrorist is an ‘Indian Hindu’ even
though no direct reference is made in the film to this effect. Ground
support and logistics in Pakistan are arranged for Raman by Lakshmi, aka
Zoya, (played by Meesha Shafi) who is basically an Indian agent operating in
the guise of a social worker. The film touches upon
numerous themes. In one of the opening scenes, Ali Azmat, playing the role
of a patriot and soon to become a popular politician, is arguing with
politicians about the construction of a dam to end the energy crisis of
Pakistan. Interestingly, the politicians in this conversation are those who
play the look-alikes of Nawaz Sharif and Asif Ali Zardari in a stark
emulation of some popular parody shows in Pakistan. In this film, they
represent everything that is wrong with the politics of Pakistan. In their
conversation with Ijaz Khan (Ali Azmat), these politicians hold on to their
selfish political gains at the expense of the larger ‘national interest’
of Pakistan. They want to ensure their vote bank remains intact by opposing
the construction of the dam, which would have led to large-scale
displacement of population which votes for them. Ijaz Khan, on the other
hand, does not have any selfish motives. As he gets closer to achieving a
consensus on the construction of dam, he thinks about launching a proper
political career for himself and gives up an extra-marital affair with Zoya/Lakshmi.
In this transformation of Ijaz Khan from a playboy kind of a lifestyle to a
selfless politician there are signs for those who ponder. But the issues of
development are not central to the film. The issue of terrorism is the
seminal theme dealt with in an extremely problematic manner. Mujtaba Rizvi,
played by Shaan, is an ex-army officer/commando who is recalled from an
early retirement as only he has the capacity to deal with Raman and help the
civilian law-enforcement agencies. In one scene, Shaan interrogates two
terrorists and uses torture as a mode of interrogation – the best way of
getting important information. The information thus
gathered helps locate the epicentre of terrorism, which is Mullah Siraj’s
den at ‘some place’ in Northern Pakistan. Mullah Siraj is shown as a
bloodthirsty and greedy man devoid of any moral or religious substance. His
villainy is elucidated by the sequence in which he has his own father killed
to sabotage the prospective peace treaty between militants and Pakistan’s
military. Mullah Siraj and his
cohorts are depicted as Pashtuns with a broad brush: they are all
terrorists. Or, maybe, one could add that all Pashtuns who are not speaking
chaste English in the film are terrorists. For example, a member of
anti-terrorist force, Ehtasham Khattak, played by Hamza Ali Abbasi, is an
exceptional Pashtun. It is only through his family name I am presuming that
he is depicted as a Pashtun in this film. Otherwise, his ‘appearance’
(he does not wear shalwar kameez and a turban) and accent do not provide any
inkling that he is one. That illustrates the
nationalist undertone of this film — privileging Pakistani nationalism
over Pashtun sub-nationalist proclivity. These de-ethnicised Pakistanis
share certain traits like the ability to converse in chaste English.
Ironically, they feel no qualms about using the F word for humour and
reposing belief in the neo-liberal ideology of development.
Hyper-nationalism seems to be oozing out of them. Despite war on terror as
the liet motif of the film, not even a slightest of allusion to Taliban,
their origins, ideology, etc, has been furnished. Its understanding about
terrorism resonates with the general perception of the majority of
Pakistanis. This is the impression one gets after watching that movie in DHA
cinema, Lahore packed with an enthusiastic audience. They applauded with
loud cheers when any terrorist was killed onscreen. Not surprisingly, the film
represents terrorism as a foreign-funded enterprise. As a film project
sponsored by ISPR, the production team is mindful of the fact that no
insinuation is articulated against the US, all the blame of fomenting terror
is laid at the doorstep of our ‘arch enemy’ India. The ignominious
character of Mullah Siraj colludes with India because the latter greases the
former’s palm. The avarice-personified
Mullah works at the behest of India to the detriment of his own country.
Hence, the applaud from the audience is not actually for the killing of a
Taliban but for an Indian agent. The viewer, thus, goes back home satisfied
that there is nothing wrong with the Pakistani society and all that is
happening in Pakistan is a result of a foreign conspiracy. Members of Pakistani
law-enforcement agencies, who speak such good English and drop F words on
terrorists just like they do in Hollywood flicks, are fully competent to
deal with this foreign-funded conspiracy. On a side note, I would
like to share an interesting incident, not directly related to this film. In
the DHA auditorium, a group of youngsters came to watch this film on the Eid
day. In festive mood, they kept passing taunts as is part of the
film-watching culture in South Asia. An elderly man, sitting a couple of
rows ahead, looked back in anger and scolded them and asked them to better
go and watch this film in Gawalmandi instead. He also passed snide comments
about the cheap clothing the guys were wearing, which to his reckoning were
purchased from Anarkali. The young blokes kept
their quiet for the rest of the film. For the elderly guy the film was far
too serious. And only he could know its potential value for the ‘nation’
and its aesthetic quality for he was ‘properly educated’ and hailed from
an affluent background and lived in DHA proper. It is this class of people
that the director had in mind as his audience, therefore, he opted to depict
a lifestyle and language with which they could relate to. The rest have
still to come of age to appreciate such a ‘work of art’.
One good thing
about this film was that you could not have missed it; no matter what day or
time of the week you wanted to watch it or whichever cinema. In that sense,
the makers were plain lucky — to have got the best time slot of the year a
film could hope for, and then follow its initial success through the next
week and so forth. Having been in the news
for about three years (as long as it took to produce it), Waar was eagerly
awaited and massively watched. Touted as the most expensive film of Pakistan
to date, everyone was anticipating some great “production values”,
relying on the reputation of the director, even if he was making his debut
in feature films. No one knew what it was all about nor did it matter. The slick trailers
released by the team made everyone bet on its success. Yet, in its second week of
running, the technical prowess and unprecedented financial returns are not
the overt subjects of debate. The chatter on social media about the content
of the film, the underlying message, the subtext, have all moved to op-ed
pages of newspapers. Well, in a way. The supporters of the film are trying
to argue that the content must be left aside for the moment in view of the
imminent revival of Pakistani cinema. The naysayers will not settle for
anything less than a ‘propaganda film’ sponsored unofficially by the
ISPR. The next question that is
asked is: So what if ISPR funded Waar? Moving logically to: What’s wrong
with a propaganda film? One thing is certain; of
all the production values, the script of the film was not in the production
team’s priority list. The debutante writer, Hassan Waqas Rana, admitted in
an interview the aim was to make the layperson recognise the sacrifices
suffered by the forces. Having now watched the
film, the layperson may choose to disagree. The first half looks like a
combination of fifteen or twenty odd scenes (potential trailers), failing to
make an impact. Any superiority of camerawork or cinematography is lost in
the absence of a central structure to hold the odd scenes together. And in terms of theme,
there is too much to be held together — a high profile terrorist crossing
over to Pakistan from the Indian side of Kashmir to destabilise the country,
a politician struggling to evolve a political consensus on the controversial
dam (no prizes for guessing the name), one army major being wooed to join
the counter-terrorism force and save the country, an Indian intelligence
operative acting as an NGO worker during the day and a seductress at night,
for the politicians alone mind you. This may appear a little
complex but the latter half makes things simpler. Here is all you need to
know. This country would be without a problem, were it not for its Eastern
neighbour. Terrorism is an isolated Indian-sponsored phenomenon. The state
is committed to The Dam. The political forces that are anti-dam are
anti-Pakistan and, therefore, pro-India and, therefore, pro-terrorism in
Pakistan. Simple! Made even simpler when the
patriotic forces decide to put an end to it all — end of terrorism in
Pakistan, and welcome the dam. Except that it is
obfuscation of the highest order. Pakistan needs a counter narrative to the
Indian narrative, the pro-film op-eds scream. If by Indian narrative, they
mean that of Indian cinema, one may suggest it is not a single narrative;
the small anti-Pakistan part is problematic no doubt but does not define
Indian cinema. The film Waar does a few
other things. It justifies state torture in more ways than one. The state
shuts its eyes to the doings of an army major who goes about seeking revenge
from individual terrorists, and re-inducts him to save the country. Later,
it allows the same officer to use torture as a means to extract evidence and
concludes that torture does work. The final triumph — end of terrorism and
beginning of the dam — comes at the hands of the police and military and
perhaps some unknown spiritual power. The suffering of the
forces alone may not satisfy the layperson, as per the wishes of the writer,
for the layperson too has suffered much in this collective sacrifice. To
him, the film might seem like an attempt by the forces to achieve in art
what they could not in real life. Terrorism sponsored by the enemy state
could only be a wishful dream when every child in this country knows it is
home-grown. The language of the film ensures it is aimed at particular
laypersons based in particular cities only. Propaganda is said to be
distinguishable from art in that it is one-dimensional and tends to
perpetuate “group inferiority even in crying out against it”. The
layperson wonders if what he has just watched was art or propaganda.
Hasan Zaidi — filmmaker and cultural critic “What exactly
can be termed a ‘propaganda film’ is a very tricky thing to define,
mainly because propaganda comes in different guises. If a film propagates a
particular message that is sponsored by someone other than the writer or
director it can be termed a propaganda The real controversy
around Waar — and, for that matter, Khuda Ke Liye — is that these films
are made apparently with public funding which is used covertly without the
public’s consent. For some, they may not have a bad message, but those
with opposing views would find these movies problematic. Interestingly,
Khuda Ke Liye and Waar, both coming from the same source, have almost
directly opposite messages. Purely as a film critic, I
would say Waar is very well shot and well edited, has very good production
values but that it has a cliched script and bad dialogue. On a political
level, however, the message it sends out is dangerous because it reinforces
stereotypes and is likely to confuse Pakistanis further. Our public is
already confused about the roots of militancy and how to tackle terrorism,
thanks in part to the media and a muddled political discourse. And, if films
like Waar reinforce the view that the problems of Pakistan are only because
of external factors and not because of how we have cynically nurtured a
mindset, it makes it that much harder to combat them. You cannot fight that
which you cannot identify properly. And, in that sense, Waar is poor
propaganda.” “We need to redefine
controversial and propaganda” Akifa Mian — Film
academic “The question is, are
other cinemas not doing propaganda? Independent cinema is the only time when
you are not doing propaganda. Though your message can be there in one form
or the other. I am not quite sure if, in
2013, we can still be puritanical about it and say that doing propaganda is
not ok and not doing propaganda is ok, because it depends on what you define
as propaganda. Everyone is going to come up with a subjective definition. To
some, propaganda film as a genre itself is a controversial idea. I think in
Pakistan we need to revisit and redefine what is controversial and
propaganda in our cinema.” “Its hard to be subtle
when...” Mira Hashmi — Film
critic and academic “The word
‘propaganda’ has negative connotations; it’s seen as a calculated set
of ‘truths’ manipulated to justify and defend what
On the other hand, we
don’t necessarily apply the term to, say, the Why We Fight series of
documentaries that were produced by the Allies. So, merely propagating a
political stand through cinema is not generally seen as propaganda; rather,
if that stand is seen as more of an aggressive (and, often, unpopular)
agenda, most likely jingoistic in tone as well, then we identify it as
propagandist material. Films which depict a
manipulated view of history may be considered propaganda films, but again,
to what end are they doing that? To justify particular sets of beliefs in
the present? There would no point in trying to alter the past if it wasn’t
somehow related to how and why you want your audience in the present to
receive it. The thing about making
propaganda films is that by definition they have to be somewhat ham-handed;
it’s hard to be subtle when you are selling something that is bound to be
contentious. Hollywood has of course done its fair share of such films. If
we look at the Vietnam years, John Wayne’s The Green Berets comes to mind,
and it is NOT a subtle film! Because it was justifying a war that for the
majority wasn’t justifiable, it had to sell hard. Whether it was
successful is debatable though.” — As told to Usman
Ghafoor
theory Art and propaganda
are interrelated because one can be mistaken for the other. Actually, it is
very difficult to sepa One can start by making a
series of differentiations between the two. It can be said that
propaganda thrives on topicality, something that is very contemporary while
art is something that is not necessarily tied to the very current.
Propaganda loses its lustre and perhaps poignancy the moment the issue does
not remain a burning one anymore, while art has something which is much more
abiding and longer-lasting. It does not lose its thunder with the passage of
time; rather, it stays relevant and has the capacity to be referred Topicality is the ruse or
the bait that is dangled for a piece of music, a poem, or a film to be
attractive enough for the This multi-layered
existence can be interpreted in many ways while propaganda is closed and
unambiguous and has a ring of finality about it. It is prescriptive whereas
art is explorative and tentative. The only cogent definition
of art can be that it lives beyond its time and the place of its origin,
even the culture that gives birth to it. It has an outreach that arches
beyon Similarly, music too is
relevant, the melodic modes that keep reinventing themselves with different
nuances and microtonal variations and still remain just as fresh and
expressive of our emotions and sentiments. The old compositions, too, keep
being reborn and resurrected and still appeal to our sensibilities being the
vehicle of our deepest emotional states and reflective of our collective
responses. Where films are concerned,
it is the medium that also lures the accusation or the claim that it lends
itself to propaganda. As a medium, film is-larger-than life, a composite art
form with literature, music, visual art and dance, flowing into its organic
whole. It does hold an appeal for the ordinary person more interested or
open to receiving the entirety of an impact, rather than being more
critically receptive to the particularity of one form. It is closest to
being a layman’s medium. Since film is a medium
that is technology-driven, the changes in technology greatly determine its
quality. These changes have been enormous, rapidly ongoing, making so much
now possible to be put on screen than before. Referring back to the films
from the past suffer greatly from the antediluvian technology employed then.
The film, not due to content only but technology appears to be very dated,
making the referring back a tiresome and un-engaging experience. One wonders
what changes in technology have impacted the writing of a poem or a novel.
Minimal if compared to films. This larger-than-life
medium has a huge impact for it does enlarge everything that is being
captured on the camera. Many of the great film makers who decried the
larger-than-life perception in the arts had to battle this peculiarity of
the medium when narrowing down on something that otherwise was of no great
significance. The films also tend to live like journalism more in the
present, and often rely on the topical and the current. The shelf-life of the film
is shorter than other forms. It is more likely that a poem or a novel
written years or even centuries ago is referred to again and again. A
painting, too, displayed in the galleries or at homes is seen every day. Now, probably with greater
replication or making of copies, and that too cheaply, access to films made
in the past is much Being more
capital-intensive, the compulsion on the film being a success at the box
office is greater than any other form of art, the film makers tend more than
others to find a ready way of doing so. To ride on the back of an issue that
is generating emotional fireworks is temptation enough to skim at things on
the surface, go by the flow, beat the familiar drumbeat and build on stated
or stock responses. The surface meaning or the
impression can be more cogently received or appreciated rather than the
underlying meaning. This can easily yield to a version that can be viewed as
propaganda. What can qualify to be art
has to move at many levels while propaganda, like a statement, is direct and
one-dimensional
Willing
propagandists To discern the
moral fibre of Hollywood, an intelligent person need not point to a recent
book, The Collaboration: Hollywood’s Pact With Hitler. Based on archival
evidence, the book alleges that movie moguls, many of whom were Jewish
immigrants, not only collaborated with Hitler, agreeing to allow his
numerous agents to be present at studios to influence the films’
storyline, MGM was financing German armaments production. Jack Warner ordered to
remove the word Jew from the entire film, The Life of Emile Zola, and “was
the first to invite Nazi officials to its Los Angeles headquarters to screen
films and suggest cuts”. The decision to align Hollywood’s interest with
that of Hitler’s Germany was based on the fact that Germany was the second
largest movie market. If Hollywood was a willing propagandist for the Nazis,
why would they be opposed to the Pentagon and CIA moving in? Outside
Germany, the US was the largest movie-goer market. While governments have
several tools at their disposal to influence their citizens and beyond,
primarily education, both dictators and democrats realised the power of the
moving image. As the espionage and counter-intelligence branch of the CIA,
Operation Mockingbird was initiated in 1948 as a programme to shape domestic
media through propaganda. This could not have been carried out without the
active support of media tycoons, such as Henry Luce. After Eisenhower was
elected, he appointed Luce’s wife ambassador to Italy. The movie, Green
Berets, notorious for pro-Vietnam War stance, came into being at the behest
of John Wayne, who was bothered by the country’s anti-war sentiment at the
time. None less than a president, Lyndon Johnson, helped in the Duke’s
directorial efforts to make the film. I have already pointed out
in my previous article here, about the making of the pro-torture propaganda
movie, Zero Dark Thirty, that the filmmakers were engaged with the CIA
higher-ups. Unlike any other country, American cinema started out as a
propaganda institution because its earlier history, too, is predicated up an
internal enemy, the Native Americans, who had to be treated in literature
and later in cinema as savages and threat to white security. The conquerors then
compounded the problem by importing slaves into millions, who were also seen
as a menace. So, the early American cinema propagated falsehood, often
stirring hatred towards and fear of Native Americans and African Americas.
As the USA emerged from being a side player to a global power, it has relied
on the support of media, literature, and film to introduce to her citizens
each time a new enemy has been invented. Propaganda films rely on
several factors. They are generally aimed at a younger audience, especially
if the general level of their history education and critical thinking, too,
is mediocre. Hollywood has been good about aiming movies at a younger
audience compared to other major movie markets, such as Europe or India,
where movie-going has been a family-oriented ritual. Propaganda movies rely on
simple dichotomies as opposed to complexity. Even American Master of Fine
Arts (MFA) fiction programmes have been known to have encouraged their
students to strive for simplicity and avoid both plot and linguistic
complexity. For example, when the CIA sponsored film, Animal Farm, based on
George Orwell’s famous novel that assailed both Communism and Capitalism,
was in the making, the CIA made sure that the criticism was restricted to
lambasting Stalin and the Soviet Union. According to one survey,
average European movie budget hovered around $3 million as opposed to
American movie budget of $11 million. If you are combining propaganda with
entertainment either aimed at the youth or uneducated masses, there is no
way to compete with Hollywood. How many of us would have
thought that the Hollywood commercial classic, Casablanca, had the blessing
of the US war department? United States perhaps has the highest number of
film schools and the country continues to dominate the top slots on the list
of best universities in the world. All of this comes into the service, often
unintentionally, of the country’s foreign policy. Enlightened graduates from
these film schools become involved in producing films which perpetuate, with
greater skill, distorted, one-sided history. This could not have been
possible simply and solely because the US has had a previous history of
stereotyping non-white people in the early silent cinema; or that simple
plot-lines aimed at internal market, which is the largest, requiring the
Americans to be seen as good versus the rest as evil; or that
indigenously-produced cinematic technological advances facilitate making
entertainment-oriented films, which can accommodate propaganda movie without
a hiccup. There has to be a crop of
never-ending film-makers, screen-writers and actors who are more than ready
to be their government’s tool of propaganda, in the service of the empire,
compliant to do anything for a huge margin of profit, even shutting the
window of their conscience. When people with the
reputation of that of John Ford, Cecil B. DeMille, Darryl Zanuck, and Howard
Hughes are willing accomplices in achieving the goals of Operation
Mockingbird, film-goers need help from God to separate propaganda from
entertainment that pretends to be an act of art whose primary function is to
explore truth, not obscure it. The writer’s collection
of short stories, Cafe Le Whore and Other Stories, is due out soon
Over to
Bollywood Despite the
decades-long tension between India and Pakistan, Bollywood, even with its
Indian nationalist themes, plays a major role in the lives of many
Pakistanis. While Hollywood might have
more influence and money, Bollywood produces more films per year and has a
larger audience. Bollywood films, which typically include elements of music,
romance, action, comedy and drama, appeal to a Pakistani audience. Through
lavish sets, elaborate dance sequences and melodrama Bollywood movies set
themselves apart from other industries’ productions, embracing a clearly
Bollywood aesthetic. Although media plays a
main role in constructing national identity, Bollywood did not actively
focus on forming Indian identity until the 1980s and 90s. Patriotism and
nationalist undertones, however, have existed in Indian films since
independence. To further cement Indian
identity, Bollywood’s villains tended to represent an opposing culture.
Before the 1990s, the nationalist tendencies were focused against the West.
According to film scholar Rao Ganti, “villains were either Europeans or
westernised Indians.” J.P Dutta’s Border
released in 1997 changed that. Border, depicted the 1971 war, explicitly
labelling Pakistan as the antagonist. The film, which topped the box office
when it was released, equated anti-Pakistan sentiment with anti-Muslim
sentiments, arousing nationalistic feelings. While there have been a number
of Indian films since then which have shown Pakistan, especially its
military, as enemy number one, they are small in number. In 1962, Pakistan banned
Indian films. Like India, Pakistan wanted to use the media to create a
national identity, and former President Ay Bollywood also succeeded
in giving one crucial feeling to Pakistani audiences that Lollywood
miserably failed to. Lollywood started declining in the 1980s — with the
advent of the gandassa culture, excessive violence, and poor technical
quality — and succeeded in alienating a majority of middle class Pakistani
filmgoers from the cinema. Unlike Lollywood,
Bollywood focused less on images of what a society is than on images of what
it should be, thus propagating an ideal state, which appealed largely to
Pakistani audiences. In 2006, Pakistan lifted
the ban on Indian films. From 2007 to 2011, the entertainment industry in
Pakistan grew by 300 per cent, and today, Pakistan is considered one of
Bollywood’s top five overseas markets. The decline of Lollywood and the
lifting of the ban encouraged Pakistani actors and musicians to venture into
Bollywood films. One of the biggest reasons
of Bollywood being so successful in Pakistan has also been its Muslim
superstars. Take Shah Rukh Khan for example. With thousands of fans around
the world, Khan, Bollywood’s most expensive and most well-known actor, is
idolised, although Khan has roots in Pakistan and is Muslim. Although Khan is an
Indian, he represents a minority in India simply because of his religion,
which is associated with Pakistan. Bollywood has iconised him, creating a
global obsession with a Muslim star in a country that is predominately
Hindu. Through the influence he
gained in Bollywood, Khan presents a side of the India-Pakistan conflict
that many do not see otherwise. Bollywood, despite producing Indian
nationalist media, provides a way for Muslim Indians to become prominent and
successful in society. Bollywood itself
represents a less segregated community, and the films it produces and the
actors it worships further represent the idea of a shared culture between
India and Pakistan. Pakistan’s consumption of Bollywood lead to an influx
of Indian culture in Pakistan, while Pakistani actors moving to Bollywood
leads to an influx of Pakistani culture in India. However small these
changes may be, the ability to influence a conflict that has been going on
for over 60 years represents great power. Bollywood is not just
entertainment for the Indian and Pakistani people but a vital part of their
cultures, their national identities and the way they view each other.
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