In a display of growing frustration towards bureaucratic red tape, Delhi-based playwright Imran Zahid is calling attention to the convoluted processes governing the release of Pakistani films in India. As he finds himself navigating a labyrinth of unclear policies and unresponsive ministries, his queries regarding legal restrictions on Pakistani films have yet to find a definitive resolution.
Imran Zahid, widely recognized for his efforts in adapting works from across the border such as the popular Pakistani drama series “Humsafar” (2011), has taken upon himself to seek clarity on the matter through formal channels. His inquiry stems from the abrupt ban on Fawad Khan’s film, “The Legend of Maula Jatt”, which, despite the immense popularity of the Pakistani actor among Indian audiences, found its release in India curiously blocked. In pursuit of answers, Zahid submitted a Right to Information (RTI) application in the hopes of uncovering the rationale behind these barriers and seeking guidance on potential collaborations with Pakistani artists in India.
However, the playwright’s efforts were met with nothing short of a bureaucratic standoff. His application, initially filed with the Ministry of External Affairs (MEA), was promptly forwarded to the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting (MIB). Citing Section 6(3) of the RTI Act, MEA reassigned the query, deeming the MIB as the appropriate decision-maker regarding film releases.
Yet, despite the procedural adherence, a month elapsed without progress as MIB shrugged off responsibility, claiming that the subject did not fall within their jurisdiction. Zahid’s experience underlines a glaring inefficiency in the system, with confusion reigning between ministries on jurisdiction over film releases involving foreign nationals and artists.
In the face of this administrative debacle, Zahid is unrelenting in his demand for clarity. He argues that this back-and-forth contradicts judicial determinations, including recent verdicts by the Supreme Court and the Bombay High Court, which confirmed the absence of any legal prohibition barring Pakistani artists from working in India. He stresses, “RTI is supposed to be a tool for accessing information, but so far, it seems like a systematic refusal to information,” pondering why such a pressing issue has failed to gain broader attention among filmmakers and stakeholders.
The backdrop to this conundrum is steeped in a complex history of cultural and political tensions.
. The informal boycott of Pakistani artists was first acknowledged post the 2016 Uri attacks, with associations like the Indian Motion Picture Producers Association (IMPPA) and the Federation of Western India Cine Employees citing security and nationalism as motives for turning away Pakistani talent. Although unofficial, this stance has posed formidable hindrances to cross-border artistic exchanges.
Most recently, in a critical judicial intervention in 2023, India’s Supreme Court dismissed a petition urging a formal ban on Pakistani artists, aligning with an earlier Bombay High Court judgment. Both courts upheld that such prohibitions cannot be enforced by the judiciary, citing the necessity for political resolution over these contentious cultural exchanges.
Zahid’s commitment to realizing an Indian adaptation of “Humsafar” speaks volumes about his determination to foster creative bonds with Pakistan. Yet, even as his efforts gain attention, resistance outside the courtroom persists. The controversy peaked when a political faction in Maharashtra threatened violence against theaters considering screening “The Legend of Maula Jatt”, reflecting an unspoken yet palpable restriction that echoes despite legal clarity.
In a comparative anecdote, Zahid observes the relative openness in Pakistan towards Indian artists. He notes that past statements by high-ranking officials in Pakistan denied any governmental embargo against Indian cultural contributors. The playwright closes his argument by questioning the inconsistencies and hesitancies within India’s bureaucratic framework, pushing for an operational transparency that aligns with both judicial rulings and artistic vision.
This ongoing saga remains emblematic of deeper issues at the intersection of art, politics, and bureaucracy. Zahid’s relentless spirit seeks to cut through the smoke and mirrors of the status quo, advocating for a structured dialogue and definitive policies that respect the artistry’s boundaryless nature. As he pushes forward, the outcome of his quest may very well signal broader implications for the future of cultural diplomacy between the subcontinent’s two biggest film powerhouses.
