‘Netflix Shows Defaming Hindus and India’: Shiv Sena Member

Shiv Sena’s IT cell member has urged the police to take action against the online streaming platform for hosting hinduphobic content.

A member of the Shiv Sena, Ramesh Solanki has filed a complaint against  Netflix – a US-based online streaming platform – alleging that its content portrays India and Hindus in a bad light globally.

Solanki is Shiv Sena’s Information Technology cell member and has cited examples of Netflix series like Sacred Games, Leila and Ghoul, along with the episodes of standup comedian Hasan Minhaj to show how the streaming platform is “defaming Hindus and India.”

“Almost every series on Netflix India is with the intention to defame the country on a global level. It is with deep-rooted Hinduphobia that the platform is portraying the nation in a bad light,” Solanki told ANI

While speaking to DNA, Ramesh Solanki added, “They are putting out content that’s portraying our nation in a bad light and it’s being done in the name of freedom of expression.”

He further said that he will submit a copy of his complaint along with the CD as a piece of evidence to chief minister Devendra Fadnavis, commission of police and the cyber cell.

In the complaint, he mentioned that in Sacred Games, “Aham Brahmasami, a Vedic chant, and a sacred hymn have been framed as a war cry. People belonging to a cult greet each other with this hymn, suggesting that the hymn radicalises people to indulge in a war against humanity.”

Speaking to DNA, he also accused Netflix of demeaning “guru-shishya parampara with overtly sexual gestures” and targeting one of Rashtriya Swayamsevak’s leaders.

“One of our country’s social reformer is fondly called Guruji and this series seems to attack the revered person. To show the ruling dispensation is influenced by Guruji is to show that the Government of India is influenced by Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh and RSS’ Guruji will go for a nuclear war. That the RSS vide Guruji will use Muslims to spread terror. In order to avoid controversy, the producer suggested that the character is based on Rajneesh. Not the plot of the series but its agenda is a sinister plot,” he said.


Also read ‘Leila’ Review: Netflix’s New Original Series is Not ‘Anti-Hindu’


He also condemned the series Leila which, according to him, indicates that Aryavrat will be established in India.

“Aryavrat will be a land of bigots, casteists, Muslim-hating, women-hating patriarchal sect. The term ‘Aryavrat’ is an undertone to suggest that the Hindu Rashtra is/will be of this kind. The SC’s earlier verdict that was recently upheld said that Hindu is a way of life. And to suggest that the way of life will be like a radical cult is demeaning and hurts our religious sentiments,” he said.

Standup comedian Hasan Minhaj, according to him, is spreading false propaganda on the reading down of Article 370 by the central government.
In a similar picture, the Economic Times reported that Delhi BJP spokesperson Tajinderpal Singh Bagga filed a complaint against Sacred Games director Anurag Kashyap accusing him of “disrespecting Sikhs and Hindu sentiments.”
Akali Dal Leader Majinder Singh Sirsa followed suit saying that the actor Saif Ali Khan is seen throwing away his Kada, a symbol of the Sikh community, into the sea.

According to NDTV, Solanki has urged the police to “take necessary legal action” against Netflix.


Also Read  ‘Sacred Games’ Goes Where Our Silent News Media Doesn’t


“I urge the authorities to look into all of the above-mentioned content and take the necessary steps from summoning their team to cancelling their licenses as deemed fit. One cannot allow an incorrect generalisation based on bogus rhetoric trying to defame a religious minority, that is, Hindu in countries other than India,” he added.

Featured image credit: Unsplash

Hasan Minhaj’s Take on ‘Indian Elections’ Is Simple yet Subversive

The comedian’s latest Netflix episode is a fine balancing act that may anger a vast number of Indian Americans but also has the potential to make many of them think. 

Right up front, even before his stand up performance starts, Hasan Minhaj makes it clear that he is taking on a risky mission. Well-meaning community elders – uncles and aunties who know better – warn him against wading into these treacherous waters. “Are you out of your mind?” “You’re being stupid now.” “You’re going to make millions of people angry.”

All this after Minhaj suggests he is going to do an episode on the Indian elections. “They are going to kill you.” “Talk about cricket. Talk about sneakers.” “You cannot talk about Narendra Modi. You cannot talk about Priyanka Gandhi.”

This last bit is no doubt to maintain a sense of ‘balance’, perhaps to show that he – and more importantly, Netflix – are not biased towards one party. The financial and vocal muscle of the Indian community in the US is well-known and no one wants to incur their wrath. A campaign, even if half-hearted, to boycott Netflix, has already started online.

Minhaj nonetheless wades in and what follows is 25 minutes of the stand-up comedian trying to explain India to his audience of mainly Americans, for whom, he says, India means henna tattoos, Gwen Stefani’s bindi phase and goat yoga. His jokes and reference points riff on popular culture – at one point, he shows a photo of Priyanka Chopra and Nick Jonas, saying, “you can’t just marry into it”, evoking laughter.

The 33-year-old US-born comedian normally aims at very American subjects, ranging from politics to hip-hop. He got a big boost when he devoted an entire episode of his show Patriot Act with Hasan Minhaj to Saudi Arabia that annoyed the sheikhdom. But he has touched on his ethnic background too, with jokes on the usual community tropes such as over-achieving kids.

Also read: Hasan Minhaj Makes You Feel Like We’re All Navigating This ‘Fair and Lovely World’ Together

This is the first time he has targeted Indian politics. It’s a risky venture, as he admits, and during the show, he does his utmost to appear balanced in terms of not leaning towards one leader or the other. Thus, while his central message is that India is changing, for the worst, he has to bring in the corruption of Congress.

His team reached out to both parties but got no response from the BJP. The always-willing Shashi Tharoor was happy to sit in for the Congress and offer some bromides in his clipped accent, which dilutes the impact of what he wants to say.

The balancing act over, Minhaj seems relieved and reverts to Modi. He compares Modi and Trump, both of whom appeal to their own bases with messages hailing their respective countries – ‘India First’, says one, ‘America First’, says the other – attack the press and so on, though one pulls during handshakes and the other embraces other world leaders (‘one’s a tugger, the other’s a hugger.’)

A still from Hasan Minhaj’s episode on Indian elections. Credit: Netflix

All this gets huge laughs and the audience gets the point, but the message of Minhaj’s routine is deadly serious. Under Narendra Modi, who is a product of the RSS, there is a move to make India a Hindu country. After giving some background of the RSS – he mocks it by showing drills of paunchy swayamsevaks who look most unfit – he talks about UP under Yogi Adityanath, the monk who carries a gun and has “systematically used fear of the minorities as a cultural wedge issue.” The Indian airstrikes on Balakot, attacks on Dalits and other minorities, even hysterical anchors get a look in.

Minhaj then cleverly shifts towards a point that has a special resonance for him – he is a Muslim; his parents had moved from Aligarh. His Muslim status is repeatedly mentioned, in ways that are jocular but subversive. Right in the beginning, one of the uncles refers to his name – Hasan means ‘nice’ in Arabic, he protests weakly, ‘your name rings a bell, that you are a terrorist.’

Every now and then, he refers to himself as a potential agent of Pakistan, Qatar and then Iran, a sly nod towards the kind of remarks that are heard in India about Muslims. In the wrong hands, it could explode – Minaj makes it his own, blunting the potential attacks on him and the inevitable trolling that he is likely to face.

Funny or not, Minhaj’s politics is hard to miss. And so is his intent. He understands that the desi community in the US, even if not all inclined favourably towards Narendra Modi and the Hindutva groups in general, is not fully informed about the Indian scene. They may keep abreast of the latest news, but their perceptions could be shaped by what they get through not just the mass media (American and Indian), but also social media and the avalanche of posts on family and friends WhatsApp groups.

Minhaj’s attempt is to connect the dots and make sense of all the disparate events that add up to a bigger picture – a fundamental shift in what India has been so far. “Will India remain India or not? Will India defines itself by inclusion or exclusion?” he asks. That disturbs him and he wants it to disturb others who may be otherwise ‘apolitical’ or neutral towards one party or the other.

It’s a fine balancing act that may anger vast numbers of Indian Americans but also has the potential to make many of them think. He can be criticised for oversimplifying things, but that is the view from India. A popular comedian’s voice has tremendous traction and impact, especially on a global platform such as Netflix.

Minhaj has leveraged that influence for something that he must think is very important, in a very clever way.

Hasan Minhaj Makes You Feel Like We’re All Navigating This ‘Fair and Lovely World’ Together

Minhaj’s animated, immersive storytelling lends his Netflix show a cathartic feeling that keeps you engaged not only through the funny bits, but also the serious anxieties of being brown in the US.

Minhaj’s animated, immersive storytelling lends his Netflix show a cathartic feeling that keeps you engaged not only through the funny bits, but also the serious anxieties of being brown in the US.

Hasan Minhaj in a still from <em>Homecoming King</em>. Courtesy: Netflix

Hasan Minhaj in a still from Homecoming King. Courtesy: Netflix

You know those awkward childhood moments of disagreeing with your parents or being a jerk that still embarrass you whenever they pop into your mind? Or those moments of righteous indignation that propelled you into doing something petty that maybe now, all these years later, resemble something close to funny? Well in Homecoming King, Hasan Minhaj explores his experiences of growing up as a first-generation immigrant in hilarious detail, taking long-gone embarrassments and turning them into stories that feel vivid and immediate – as if you’re experiencing them in real time, only without the awkwardness.

Minhaj approaches the first-generation immigrant experience by unabashedly sharing personal instances from his life, starting right from early childhood. Sometimes he’s the bemused victim of casual ignorance (his crush told him he’s the “colour of poop”; a teacher at his all-white school called him Saddam Hussein during roll call), sometimes Minhaj is just a tiny kid trying to figure out why his father doesn’t embody the ideal American dad (“Immigrant dads just didn’t download all the Great Dad software”) and the thing all of us have thought at some point – “You want me to change my life because of what other people will think?” Other times, he’s a vindictive adult who can’t resist revisiting old hurts with the people who perpetrated them.

He’s an animated, engrossing storyteller in pursuit of something greater than a chuckle-inducing punch line. His physicality – striding and hopping across the stage, miming gestures with his hands, pointing and waving wildly to compliment his emphatic delivery, all contribute to an exceptionally entertaining set.

Sitting on a chair, Minhaj acts out awkwardly riding his bike to his prom date’s house, pausing his frenzied pedalling to check his armpits for sweat stains and odour. He sets it up beautifully – nerdy brown boy gets a chance to go to prom with a white girl – a species he’s assumed he’ll be ignored by for the rest of his life. So he defies his father, jumps out a second-floor window, bikes to her place in a cheap tuxedo, only to see his date getting a corsage from another guy. A white guy. Her mom’s explanation? “Oh honey, this is a big night for us and we’re going to be taking a lot of pictures.” Minhaj’s face holds nothing back, he looks about as crushed as he probably did the night this actually happened. As if he, like us, didn’t know that this story would end sadly.

“I didn’t realise that people can be bigoted even as they smile at you.”

It’s Minhaj’s reaction to insults like these – and how his father views them in a completely different light – that form the crux of the show. While Minhaj eagerly seeks a confrontation with his would-be prom date years later, his father’s only reaction is to tell him to let it go.

There’s another quietly devastating moment Minhaj shares that brings home the reality and complexity of a debate we’re all struggling with at different levels. What’s the best way to deal with racism and bigotry? Do you channel your anger and confront it head on every time? Or is it better to count your blessings, keep your head down and let insults slide?

After the family’s Camry (“the immigrant car of choice”) was vandalised in the immediate aftermath of 9/11, Minhaj recalls being angry and panicky, whereas his father quietly swept the shattered glass from his own car windows off the street, as if he worked “at a hate-crime barbershop.”

It’s a touching, scary moment, due in large part to the fact that Minhaj has an incredible ability to draw on his past experiences as if they are no more than a day old. Yet again, his face conveys a scared bafflement that you can’t help but imbibe through the screen.

According to Minhaj, people from his dad’s generation – the ones who made the transnational leap – think that enduring racism to a certain degree is the price they have to pay to live in the US. Like an “American Dream tax”. But Minhaj, a US citizen by birth, says, “I actually have the audacity of equality.”

Which one is the right approach? Keeping your head down or fighting the good fight all day every day? Minhaj doesn’t know, and nor do most of us. And the admittance of this dilemma gives the show a cathartic quality that makes it feel like you just had a really great conversation with a close friend, only an exceptionally entertaining one. It feels good to be the intended audience for a mainstream media production – you get to appreciate gems like, “It’s a Fair and Lovely world, you gotta navigate it accordingly.” Small things, like Minhaj’s reliance on Hindi, with translations only tacked on as explainers, add to this feeling that the audience and Minhaj are just hanging out, sharing a few laughs as well as some anxieties along the way.

It’s not the laugh-out-loud moments that make Homecoming King a great show but Minhaj’s detailed, immersive, energetic narration – especially of those difficult moments that leave you feeling confused and stuck on the outside.