Last week, Chennai-based theatre group Evam was barred from staging its play, Ali J, at Jagriti theatre in Bangalore. The play, which got accolades at the Fringe Festival in Edinburgh, was earlier prevented from being performed at the Kala Ghoda festival in Mumbai and in Chennai. Karthik Kumar, co-founder of Evam and who plays the title role, talks to Indulekha Aravind about what transpired and why we must not remain silent. Excerpts:
There seems to be a lot of controversy about your play, Ali J. What is it about?
The play is about a young man called Ali on death row, awaiting his sentence for his alleged involvement in the Godhra riots. Ali's lifespan shadows that of Mohammad Ali Jinnah. The premise of the play was to look at what led to Partition, and if history was replayed today, whether Jinnah would still have asked for a separate country. We took up the play because we felt our generation would not understand the meaning of Partition. We wanted to recall Partition by saying let's not allow another Partition to happen and don't let your politicians polarise you on the basis of your identity. Every single allegation of fundamentalist organisations against the play is misplaced.
We were at the additional commissioner's office for three hours, and in front of us, a letter was faxed that said 10 policemen would be sent for protection, and that there was no reason for the show not to go on. But one hour before the show, all the permissions were revoked and at 8 pm, when the show was about to begin, the police came to stop the performance. We called the additional commissioner, who said they got orders from the Vidhana Soudha. I can understand the police not giving protection; I cannot understand them preventing it.
And the earlier occasions, when it was barred at Kala Ghoda in Mumbai and in Chennai?
Our first show in India was in November at the National Centre for the Performing Arts, after 25 performances at The Fringe in Edinburgh. A week before the next show in Ranga Shankara in Bangalore we got calls from audiences members who were being given pamphlets that the show would not be allowed to be staged. When we contacted the organisation, the Hindu Janajagruti Samiti, they told us we would not be allowed to perform. But the venue stood by us, and the police was kind enough to give us protection. The day before our performance at Kala Ghoda, the press conference of a Pakistani band was wrecked by the Shiv Sena and another group. The organisers got cold feet about the potential damage to the venue and cancelled the play 8-10 hours before the performance. In Chennai, the commissioner's office initially told us there was nothing to worry about, but 24 hours before the show they sent us a letter advising us to withdraw the show. The officials at Alliance Francaise, which was the venue for the play, told us they were advised by the police not to allow the play.
What is your reaction to all this?
We realise we're fighting something powerful and significant. There is something very fascist happening on the ground. When we were working on the play, I wouldn't say I didn't expect some fundamentalist organisations to issue threats but I never thought they would be able to prevent it from being staged repeatedly. But it is very important that we do not get cowed down, that we do not agree to be silent to the injustices around us. By not acting against this, our silence creates a sanction.
What do you plan to do next?
Honestly, we are a little numb. We've been spending more time at police stations than at rehearsals this last month. As an outlet for artistic expression, we are putting the play online on a pay-per-view basis. We are also planning to move court to make this a landmark case so that tomorrow this does not happen to any other performance or piece of literature, so that a precedent is created. Meanwhile, we've been invited by a theatre in London, and by a Pakistani cultural organisation, to perform it as an act of peace. I find it ironical that at so many levels Pakistan will allow it, but India won't.
There seems to be a lot of controversy about your play, Ali J. What is it about?
The play is about a young man called Ali on death row, awaiting his sentence for his alleged involvement in the Godhra riots. Ali's lifespan shadows that of Mohammad Ali Jinnah. The premise of the play was to look at what led to Partition, and if history was replayed today, whether Jinnah would still have asked for a separate country. We took up the play because we felt our generation would not understand the meaning of Partition. We wanted to recall Partition by saying let's not allow another Partition to happen and don't let your politicians polarise you on the basis of your identity. Every single allegation of fundamentalist organisations against the play is misplaced.
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What happened at Jagriti in Bangalore where you were to perform?
We were at the additional commissioner's office for three hours, and in front of us, a letter was faxed that said 10 policemen would be sent for protection, and that there was no reason for the show not to go on. But one hour before the show, all the permissions were revoked and at 8 pm, when the show was about to begin, the police came to stop the performance. We called the additional commissioner, who said they got orders from the Vidhana Soudha. I can understand the police not giving protection; I cannot understand them preventing it.
And the earlier occasions, when it was barred at Kala Ghoda in Mumbai and in Chennai?
Our first show in India was in November at the National Centre for the Performing Arts, after 25 performances at The Fringe in Edinburgh. A week before the next show in Ranga Shankara in Bangalore we got calls from audiences members who were being given pamphlets that the show would not be allowed to be staged. When we contacted the organisation, the Hindu Janajagruti Samiti, they told us we would not be allowed to perform. But the venue stood by us, and the police was kind enough to give us protection. The day before our performance at Kala Ghoda, the press conference of a Pakistani band was wrecked by the Shiv Sena and another group. The organisers got cold feet about the potential damage to the venue and cancelled the play 8-10 hours before the performance. In Chennai, the commissioner's office initially told us there was nothing to worry about, but 24 hours before the show they sent us a letter advising us to withdraw the show. The officials at Alliance Francaise, which was the venue for the play, told us they were advised by the police not to allow the play.
What is your reaction to all this?
We realise we're fighting something powerful and significant. There is something very fascist happening on the ground. When we were working on the play, I wouldn't say I didn't expect some fundamentalist organisations to issue threats but I never thought they would be able to prevent it from being staged repeatedly. But it is very important that we do not get cowed down, that we do not agree to be silent to the injustices around us. By not acting against this, our silence creates a sanction.
What do you plan to do next?
Honestly, we are a little numb. We've been spending more time at police stations than at rehearsals this last month. As an outlet for artistic expression, we are putting the play online on a pay-per-view basis. We are also planning to move court to make this a landmark case so that tomorrow this does not happen to any other performance or piece of literature, so that a precedent is created. Meanwhile, we've been invited by a theatre in London, and by a Pakistani cultural organisation, to perform it as an act of peace. I find it ironical that at so many levels Pakistan will allow it, but India won't.