Not Burying History: Amu is a Powerful Movie About 1984 Massacre of Sikhs

December 16th, 2006 by admin

Last Sunday, the award winning film Amu was shown at a fund-raising event in Surrey to help launch the film. It was followed by an open discussion with director, producer and writer Shonali Bose which was well received by the public, but a Vancouver newspaper, in its coverage, politicized the film. In doing so, they diverted attention from its key message, which is “to implement social ideals of justice.” Films like Amu fill a much-needed gap in the history of India.

Also, by addressing issues that many immigrants and Canadians experience regarding cultural identity, the film seeks to activate people towards achieving a higher degree of balanced social justice. It is these issues that I wish to highlight and that were expressed by the community and by Shonali Bose herself.

The importance of history: forming cultural identity and balanced social justice:

It is important that historic memory be preserved utilizing a balanced approach by reporting all historical facts, good or bad. This is specifically crucial for the youth in order to see the whole picture. As a key educational tool, history can help form social justice by exposing the potential outcomes of individual actions. Unfortunately, history is frequently reported in a selective way, thus covering only certain facts and events.

The narrative film Amu exposes a dark and neglected chapter in Indians’ history.

It captures a quest for justice in India by drawing an international audience to an examination of how state power asserted itself after the assassination of Indira Gandhi on October 31, 1984, resulting in the “the massacre of Sikhs in 1984,” about which many people may have no prior knowledge. The filmmaker chose to reveal the events gradually and thus achieved the “sucks you into the mystery” effect of the film.

This idea is relevant because for people accessing information about the massacre is like solving a mystery. People wanted to find out the facts behind it. This was evident from the support the film received from the community. Shalinder Gill, for example, wanted to see the film to reconnect with that chapter of history. Shalinder said to me, “I was in New Delhi in 1984 at the age of 9 and saw the smoke, not knowing what it was about. I went to the relief camps with my parents to give food and blankets. This film reminds me of who we are, and a dark chapter reopened.”

Shalinder hoped that after seeing the film the youth would be more eager to learn about it. A young student, Preeti Kalra, said after the film showing that her uncle was caught and killed in 1984. This explains why her mother, whom she accompanied to thank Bose for her work, wept after the film. Kalra said, “As long as people are aware, we can work towards getting justice; no one was really punished for this crime.” The outpouring of support came from the community from all walks of life. A taxi driver pledged his day’s earnings because the film informed about the atrocities of 1984. Many college students, teachers, organizations and others pledged money for this cause out of principle.

In addition to its historical content, the youth especially were able to relate to the theme around cultural identity because the story involves second-generation youth. In immigrant societies, there is often a feeling of belonging neither here nor there. It also expressed a yearning for Indian roots and the desire to learn the Indian way of life, despite the pressure to assimilate. Bose said to me, “I wanted to capture growing up in one place and being rooted culturally in India and the poignant crisis of belonging and not belonging.”

Her casting of women in the film and being South Asian is projected in an activist rather than a passive role through the characters of Kaju and her mother. This kind of progressive depiction of women is empowering for women. Sonia Arora, a college student, said: “If we make films inspiring young women and letting them know that they can influence change, that gives hope to younger generation of women.”

Bose reflects this image herself. She told me, “I worked in relief camps and saw the impact it had on the people. To think about it brings back the days of the Sikh widows; you feel so powerless. These atrocities occurred in front of kids. You want justice. You can’t feel peace until that is achieved. How can such a thing be carried out and kept quiet for so long?”

A few years ago in a Race and Ethnic Relations class, one Sikh student talked about the massacre of 1984. Students were left puzzled having never heard about this. Student Supreeti Ghosh said: “Just recently. The gaps left in our history leave a void and many questions about who we are and what our forefathers have gone through. If massacres across the world are given voice and exposure, why not Amu? Why are we different and why are we silenced?”

We have to congratulate Bose for her courage and perseverance to revisit this atrocity of the past and to expose this part of history. She, too, wanted to come to terms with her own history. She was a youth herself when she witnessed the 1984 massacre; it had such an impact on her that she could not shed the memories. She had to do something with this witnessing and pass on the knowledge, not only to the next generation but to the world. Her involvement is therefore personal and not just cerebral.

In conclusion, every community has gone through a regretful history and it is important that we are reminded of that because it becomes part of our present culture. Being informed about all facets of history, we can perhaps avert similar events in the future. This is an important message that should not be suppressed.

The day after the showing of the film in Surrey, Bose read an article about Amu in a Vancouver newspaper and sent me this e-mail: “It is irrelevant what the politics or associations are of our many investors, cast and crew. What is important is the content and the message of Amu. We welcome discussion on that. Any other discussion is artificially imposed and serves to divert from the fact that in the world’s largest democracy for three days the government participated in killing between 5,000 and 10,000 (an official body count was not even done) of its own citizens. How may people know about this in the world? How many know that till today 22 years after that horrific carnage the perpetrators still walk free?”

Amu was released in India in 2005 despite many attempts to stop it from even being made. The final obstacle was the Censor Board who gave it an “A” (NC17) certificate stating, “Why should young people know a history that is better buried and forgotten?” To break the silence we must have faith in humanity and not support barriers to expose history.

At the showing of Amu last year, someone at the theatre called out my name, “Indira.” Three Sikh men looked at me with “dagger eyes” which I have not forgotten. More recently, someone asked for my name and after I told him, he said, “You must be joking.” As a daughter who was named after Indira Gandhi (before this tragic massacre), I can only say that injustice has to be seen for what it is, regardless of religion, ethnicity, or caste. But the reaction also shows how names can evoke strong memories of the history of the 1984 massacre of Sikhs. The executive producer of Amu, Bedabrata Pain, said to me (on the phone from LA), “Indian people cannot hold their head high in dignity and fight for dignity until justice is served.” This means EVERYONE’S justice.

The film opens in Vancouver on February 2 and in Toronto on January 26.

By: INDIRA PRAHST, Instructor of Race and Ethnic Relations, Department of Sociology, Langara College, Vancouver

Source: The Voice Online (www.voiceonline.com)

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