“If you are planning to fight the British with your sticks and fists, do you think you will win the war against the British? If the British are to be confronted, we will have to fight with ideas.” Actor Pratik Gandhi, playing Jotirao Phule, delivers these lines with the calm conviction characteristic of Phule and the uniqueness of his approach towards the struggle against colonialism as he envisaged.
As a historian, I was interested in the controversy around the film Phule and the attempts to whitewash his history.
With a recent barrage of Indian films miserably failing in their portrayal of history, I did not have too much hope. But the film left me pleasantly surprised. I actually liked it.
Refreshingly Nuanced
Phule successfully presents the story of the undaunted efforts taken by the Phule couple — Jotirao and Savitribai — and their colleagues, to create a more just society.
Director Ananth Mahadevan took meticulous care to recreate an authentic ambience and aesthetic in depicting the life of the underprivileged in colonial India.
Their strategies to earn a living, the spirit of their resistance waiting to be unleashed, and their openness (despite inhuman exploitation) towards new ideas, are sensitively depicted. This is contrasted with the deeply hierarchical and hypocritical nature of the society in this period.
The film succeeds in narrating the poignant and true story of Jotirao and Savitribai Phule as they work relentlessly along with their colleagues for the education and upliftment of the marginalised masses.
It also tries to exonerate the Phules from the oft-repeated accusations of being "anti-Brahmanical anglophiles".
Despite his work to end caste oppression, Phule was not "anti-Brahmin", as his critics often attacked him to be.
The film depicts that nuance by portraying a number of his colleagues belonging to different social groups, including Brahmins, who were organically related to Phule’s endeavours.
It also makes a point to note how the Phules strived to empower Brahmin widows despite staunch opposition.
Accusations of Phule fraternising with the enemy – the colonial powers – are baseless propaganda. Jotirao was very well aware of the nature of the English colonialists. He knew how to differentiate between compassionate help and cunning traps.
In the film, as in real life, Jotirao and Savitribai are shown to exploit every opportunity they could glean out of British rule that they felt could aid in bettering the condition of the toiling Indian masses.
The long and quiet conversations between the Phules draw the viewers into their inner lives and the camaraderie they share.
The softness of their relationship offsets the strength of their convictions. It is something that gets missed in critical analysis of their social contributions.
For it is often Savitribai who floats novel ideas and makes pertinent suggestions to Jotirao in moments of quietude, which he later strives to practice.
Writing a book on slavery in India, for instance, or establishing a safe-house for pregnant widows, or starting a survival camp for the masses during the great famine of 1875, were all enriched by the collaborative nature of their partnership.
The film traces how, despite vehement opposition from Hindu orthodoxy, the Phules managed to educate hundreds of girls from different castes, opening the floodgates of female education in India.
They are helped in this mission by several Brahmin and Muslim friends, who braved social boycott from their own community for helping them in their cause.
The film shows Usman, a Muslim friend of Phule, braving social boycott for educating his sister; the "untouchable" Lahuji, sending Mukta Salave to the Phules' school to learn English; and the barbers deciding to disobey the order to tonsure "upper caste" widows.
The courtroom scene, in this regard, is exemplary.
Phule calmly asks, "If the Brahmin who shaves every day does not compensate the loss of business incurred by the barber, how can the Brahmins claim honorarium for a wedding that they did not solemnise?”
The Phules' love and companionship on one hand and the stern opposition to all kinds of injustice on the other, remain at the heart of the film, humanising the characters while also eulogising their work.
Anchored by Powerful Performances and Attention to Detail
The performances, especially by the two lead actors, Pratik Gandhi and Patralekha, greatly add to the film's aura and believability. Their silent conversations carry the film ahead.
Patralekha's depiction of Savitribai’s resolute courage feels authentic.
There's a scene in which Jotirao meets Savitribai after a long time, and she says she is still unhappy; he simply gifts her a jasmine gajra to tuck in her hair. Her face after receiving the gift is a treat to watch.
Vinay Pathak as Jotirao’s father is particularly convincing.
A point that stood out to me as a historian was the attention to detail. The director obviously took his historical research seriously, and it shows in each frame.
Drenched in sepia tones for added effect, the film meticulously recreates the style and sensibilities of 19th-century India — from the pre-stainless steel era utensils in the hospital and the now scarcely seen khuntis (clothes pegs) on the walls of the Phules’ home, to the nostalgic cloth bags, old-school umbrellas, and thick, rough sarees.
The film tries to deliver multiple messages that tie in to popular sensibilities and discourse today.
For instance, the scene when Savitribai and Fatima (Usman's sister) are away in Ahmednagar, and the men, Usman and Jotirao, have to cook at home. They do it gladly, but also discuss the hardships faced by women in their daily lives.
While the overall authenticity of the recreated scenes may be subject to scrutiny, such subplots are relatable and do not take away from Phule's history as they reinforce the same cause that Jotirao fought for all his life — the empowerment of women.
Censorship Cuts — But Does the Message Still Land?
Now, to conclude, let's talk about the elephant in the room. The cuts by the Central Board of Film Certification (CBFC).
True, when I watched the film, I did note how they changed 'Peshwai' to 'Rajshahi'.
I was also aware of the other cuts and tweaks that had been made — such as the removal of references to historically marginalised castes like the Mahars and Mangs, who were oppressed by the Peshwa rulers of the Maratha empire.
Since news of the cuts emerged, many have voiced concerns about the distortion of Phule’s history, the whitewashing of caste, and more.
These concerns are entirely valid. But the way I see it, despite the cuts, the film manages to rise above the censorship, and its message still shines through.
I don't believe the omission of a few details overshadowed the larger story of Phule or diluted the film’s message.
Phule sets out to tell an emotional story with a clear purpose — to share the life and times of the Phules with a wider audience — and it does so effectively by adapting history into the format of a mainstream Bollywood film, a medium known for its mass appeal.
It’s true that the film primarily focuses on the educational aspect of the Phules’ struggle. But no single film can be expected to fully capture the complexities of Jotirao, Savitribai, caste, and the layered histories of oppression. Still, the scriptwriter succeeds in conveying the broader narrative through well-crafted subplots.
Unlike the false histories being created and consumed every day in present times, be it in film, social media or through divisive 'news', the events shown in the movie are well substantiated by historical sources.
It is good to see popular culture making attempts to engage with tough topics. The history of caste and oppression shall not be co-opted so easily.
I understand the need (and sometimes necessity) to read between the lines. But perhaps we can also celebrate what was said, rather than dwell on what was left unsaid.
I saw many leaving the movie theatre, feeling like they learned something new about the revolutionary activists. That's not half as bad, is it? If nothing else, it's a start.
(Shraddha Kumbhojkar is a Professor of History at Savitribai Phule Pune University, Pune. She specialises in the history of Western India in the 19th Century, memory studies and Marathi Literary sources. This is an opinion piece, and the views expressed above are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)