Jodhaa-Akbar has had its share of controversy, criticism and appreciation. The film offended Rajputs though they are shown as an admirable community. It offended some Hindus who objected to a Hindu woman married off to a Muslim; historians got into debates over whether Jodhaa existed, indeed, whether Jodhaa was her name. Film critics found the film too long, over-ambitious but too short on a sense of euphoric victory at the end of the Gowariker’s earlier film Lagaan. Jodhaa-Akbar also raised questions on the relevance of historical films. Do they serve a purpose? Do they distort history? Are they not a creative indulgence of an egoistic film-maker who takes it upon oneself to portray history as one chooses to see it?
Whatever the controversies, whatever the arguments, one thing is clear: Jodhaa-Akbar is a film for our times. Akbar has been re-created to remind ourselves of a heritage that we are determined to undermine if not destroy the heritage of secularism, of inclusiveness, of tolerance, of our belief in the philosophy of live and let live.
Akbar is a benevolent king who buries the tradition of cruelty to the vanquished and renounces the invader mentality. As a child, under the tutelage of Behram Khan, he cannot bring himself to behead a defeated enemy-king, a practice that was adopted not just to fill the hearts of the vanquished with terror, but also to whip up passion in the victorious army for more conquests. As an adult, he forbids it and banishes Khan. He treats the vanquished and the prisoners with kindness, as behoves a conqueror. He objects to rape, loot and forcible conversion of the people of defeated kingdoms.
Akbar puts the welfare of his people ahead of everything. For their well-being and in the interest of peace, he agrees to marriage with the princess of Amer, a proposal made by the Hindu king. Explaining his decision, he says, “I knew the manzil (goal) but did not know the way to reach it,” he confesses. When he comes upon it, he recognises it. “Now my dream of a unified nation is coming true,” he says meaning the unity or “marriage” of the two people, the Muslims and the Hindus.
His innate secularism makes him agree to Jodhaa’s two pre-marital conditions: that she is allowed to retain her religion and permitted to worship the idol of Krishna in the palace. Just as he believes in not imposing Islam on others, he does not impose himself on Jodhaa. He respects and honours her when she says she’s not ready to be his wife in the physical sense. When horrified Islamic holy men object to the installation of a Krishna idol as un-Islamic, an impatient Akbar thunders that he is miles ahead of their thinking and that his main concern is welfare of his people.
Akbar wants to distinguish himself and his court from his ancestors who were foreigners, and invaders. “We are not Turks or Afghans. We are Indians. I am as much as Indian as the princess,” he says at one point to drive home the point that he is also a son-of-the-soil. At another place, Akbar tells his commander, “We are not looters. This is my country and I cannot bear to see it wounded. All are my own people. As rulers we should keep them close to our heart”. His rule, his philosophy embodied this meeting of hearts as Indians, not as Hindus or Muslims. He removes the tax on Hindu pilgrims saying it was an “excess” committed on his people. He wants his kingdom to be place where “hearts meet” as Indians, not a place where people live as Hindus and Muslims.
This apnapan or inclusiveness that he demonstrates towards his people wins him admirers. He wears saffron while visiting his in-laws’ kingdom and even sports a tilak on his forehead. A song explains that Akbar’s religion is love, and a fusion of different cultures, that is a sangam of tehzeebs. Akbar wants peace and his hate for violence is unequivocal. But he is not weak-hearted, as can be seen in the way he punishes Aadam who is like an elder brother to him, for corruption and murder.
An attempt is made on his life. Then a part of his army joins the rebellion led by his brother-in-law Sharifuddin. He agrees to a one-on-one hand combat with Sharifuddin instead of waging a war to lessen loss of life. Importantly, he does not want his kingdom to go into “wrong hands”. Sufi saying sums up Akbar’s philosophy: What is Heaven? A heart that is full of love. And what is Hell? A heart that is empty of love. Akbar ruled with his heart, a heart that was full of love and care for all his people, rising above the narrow confines of religion. Thank you, Gowariker, for giving us this lesson.
