Chhaava, directed by Laxman Utekar and produced by Dinesh Vijan, has garnered praise from the entire distinguished milieu that upholds Sambhaji Maharaj’s “warring” legacy of resisting the Mughal Empire—particularly Aurangzeb, who is now depicted as a shrewd villain in both the film and the prevalent re-imagining of history.
When Chaava was released, scores of videos circulating online showcased sensational reactions in cinema halls, invoking Sambhaji Maharaj’s “endearing” courage as the film reignited his battle to revive “Hindu rule.” What it best offers is a sardonic yet palatable imagining of a Hindu rashtra—and at a time when Hindutva seeks legitimacy, Hindi cinema proves to be a didactic spectacle, a drumbeat for the marching saffron acolytes.
The film was released on February 14—ironically, on Valentine’s Day—targeting the youth, who are increasingly seen as assets in mimicking saffron figures. One such example is a man in Nagpur who rode into a cinema hall on horseback, shouting “Har Har Mahadev” and “Jai Bhavani.” In Gujarat, a man was arrested for vandalizing the screen in an attempt to attack Emperor Aurangzeb, the film’s main antagonist. In Delhi, Hindutva organizations were seen defacing roads named after Mughal emperors after watching the movie—one man even urinated on a road sign named after Akbar.
Starring Vicky Kaushal as Sambhaji Maharaj, the film depicts his torture at the hands of Aurangzeb, played by Akshaye Khanna. It has been widely praised by the usual commentators who endorse the kind of cinema that the Hindutva party promotes in Parliament and legislative assemblies, grants tax exemptions to, and freely manipulates historical facts for.
Prime Minister Narendra Modi, commenting on the film, said that “Maharashtra and Mumbai have elevated Hindi cinema along with Marathi films, and Chhaava is making waves these days”. But Modi wasn’t alone, Maharashtra CM Devendra Fadnavis told ANI that “those who wrote history did a lot of injustice to Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj, but through this movie, his valour, bravery, cleverness, intelligence, knowledge, all these aspects of his life are coming in front of the public”.
A Minister in his cabinet, Aditi Sunil Tatkare organized a special screening for the MLAs on March 5, the same day when Samajwadi Party MLA Abu Asim Azmi was suspended for the rest of the budget session after his remarks hailing Mughal emperor Aurangzeb. In the UP legislative assembly, UP Chief Minister, Yogi Adityanath urged Samajwadi Party to ” Make an official announcement and expel that wretched person from your party. Then send him to Uttar Pradesh and we will take care of the rest
Among the chain-reactions the film produced, a video circulating online showed several people digging the earth searching for Mughal Treasure in the Asirgarh Fort, in Burhanpur, Madhya Pradesh. They carried the hefty task, almost as if Sambhaji intended it, with the torch of their phones on.
As much as the film attempted outreach, a reaction decrying the adverse effects leading to such events was described as a “deception”, a phenomenon exacerbated by the Hindutva mischief in Hindi Cinema. “As long as there is cinema in this country, people will continue to be deceived”, the dialogue from Shatrughan Sinha’s masterpiece “Sholay”, has been making rounds on social media, critiquing the film’s hysterical take and the right-wing’s approach to champion them.
The Plot
The historical inefficacy in the film remains a consistent wreck, an established merit in the recent history of Hindi cinema.
The trailer of the film instigates, at the very beginning, that “we shall tear apart the Mughal Empire if it dares to challenge the Marathas.” Without surprise, the next endearing scene unfolds, portraying Aurangzeb as a whimsical, long-haired, bearded, snow-white man standing tall as the water flowing in the river turns red. He echoes, “Wherever you see saffron, turn it red.”
This equivocation is set by a foul narrative, soothing the elements of the popular hindutva campaign. There’s nothing cool about Aurangzeb, the film has reduced him to a religious fanatic, while the despotic Sambhaji aims to crown himself by cuddling with Hindu religion.
History is marred by wars, but to Aurangzeb’s misfortune, he has been accused of demolishing Hindu temples. However, the ongoing dispossession of Muslims in the country—political and economic, with judicial impunity—proves that Aurangzeb is merely a scapegoat for the open declaration of war against Muslims, whose homes, mosques, and lives are shattered every day.
What it purports and the purposes it aims to serve are clear: Aurangzeb is but a synonym, a caveat to back claims and perpetuate Hindutva mobilization against Muslims. The revival of Hindu rule, under the augmentation of BJP’s “Viksit Bharat”—a country where laws like the Citizenship Amendment Act were passed at a time when Hindi cinema increasingly became submissive and had already been a casualty. The CAA was a call to exterminate Muslims, and films launched under the RSS-BJP rule helped manifest it, just as it became a recurring incident.
At a time when a massive stampede broke out at the New Delhi railway station—following multiple stampedes at the Kumbh Mela in Prayagraj—the BJP-RSS factions evaded responsibility. Some went so far as to claim that the dead had achieved moksha, while others blamed the victims themselves, accusing the poor—after 75 years of independence—of lacking civic sense.
Yet, the government was never questioned about how well it had fulfilled its responsibilities. Twitter was stormed by the Railway Minister, ANI, and other mouthpieces, all working to whitewash the deaths in the New Delhi stampede incident. Meanwhile, Chaava was being screened, igniting fervor against a Mughal ruler who, according to the film, tortured Sambhaji Maharaj for 45 days and killed Hindus. The film devotes the final 40 of a total 136 minutes, to a brutal depiction of torture, making it suspect with its sense of aesthetics. All the while, the very IT cell that nurtured the film worked to suppress news of the stampedes, a direct consequence of the Hindutva party’s mismanagement and apathy toward the poor.
A significant aspect of the film’s interpretation that fueled social media campaigns was the proliferation of memes—serving both as a source of solace and as instruments of Hindutva violence. One such meme depicted the descendants of Sambhaji Maharaj seated in a lavish setting, with a large portrait of him adorning the wall behind them. This image was juxtaposed with that of a Muslim man repairing a tire puncture, beside a prominently highlighted picture of Aurangzeb, accompanied by the caption: “Aurangzeb ki Aulaad.”
The economic dispossession of Muslims, driven by endemic violence, is starkly evident in events like the Sambhal violence. This orchestrated assault not only targeted a mosque but also laid bare the collapse of democracy—over seven Muslims were shot by the police, while dozens were subsequently charged under FIRs. This underscores the pivotal role of organized violence in claiming Muslim lives, perpetuating economic dispossession, and facilitating the institutionalized distortion of history. Institutions like the ASI and state machinery are weaponized as part of the broader Hindutva campaign.
A lengthy dialogue in the film seeks to captivate audiences: “If I get a chance to be born again, I’ll take birth as a Hindu. My motherland is better than your hoors, my earth is better than your Jannat. Before changing my religion, you can kill me, but my spirit will never bow down.” This encapsulates Hindutva’s relentless conflict with Aurangzeb, persisting even 400 years after his death. Chhaava’s central narrative hinges on portraying Aurangzeb as the embodiment of evil—yet this framing would lose its shock value if the film acknowledged that Sambhaji himself had once rebelled against his father, Shivaji, and briefly allied with the very same Aurangzeb.
Among other controversies, Chhaava was also accused of historical inaccuracies after
Deepak Raje Shirke, a descendant of the Shirke family, accused it of misrepresenting his ancestors. The Shirke clan was a Maratha royal family ruling parts of Maharashtra, Goa and Mumbai. It was closely linked to the Bhosale rulers, including Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj.
In the movie, Maratha commanders Ganoji and Kanhoji Shirke are shown as traitors in Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj’s capture. Shirke warned of protests and threatened a ₹100-crore lawsuit if corrections weren’t made.
The Shirke family formally notified director Laxman Utekar, demanding clarification. Utekar later apologised to Bhushan Shirke and assured him that the film does not explicitly name their ancestors.
Despite the numerous sensational tropes the film sold to its audience, it also manufactured a rivalry. Reports discussing Sambhaji Maharaj’s contentious rule over the Maratha Empire were dissected through the writings of Savarkar and Golwalkar—the two foremost ideologues of Hindutva—who had expressed critical views on Sambhaji in their works. This ignited endless debates between their followers and Sambhaji’s factions, as both scrambled to conceal their ideological inconsistencies while maintaining loyalty to their respective Hindutva icons.
According to Savarkar, Sambhaji was unfit to rule the Maratha Empire—he was a drunkard and a womanizer. Golwalkar, in A Bunch of Thoughts, echoed a similar sentiment, writing: “When Sambhaji, who was addicted to women and wine, cast his evil eyes on Khando Ballal’s sister, Ballal allowed her to end her life to save her chastity.” These assessments from two of Hindutva’s most revered ideologues complicate the film’s glorified portrayal of Sambhaji, exposing the contradictions within the Hindutva narrative itself.
Chhaava’s relentless effort to portray Aurangzeb as evil conveniently omits key historical realities: that he rose to power with Rajput support; that his administration had the highest percentage of Hindu Mansabdars in Mughal history (33%); that Hindus held crucial positions, including the Dewan and governors of two major provinces; and that while he imposed the Jizya tax (exempting Brahmins, Rajputs, women, the elderly, etc.), he also protected some temples even as he demolished others. Some historians argue that his policies reflected a strategic use of the caste hierarchies that his rivals upheld and enforced.
Of course, these complexities cannot be a part of Chhaava’s world in which the quest for Maratha “Swaraj” under Sambhaji is suffused with Hindu imagery and is presented as liberating India from “foreign rule”, it is ironic that these narratives suddenly are proliferated synchronising Hindutva’s rigorously campaign against Muslims, calling them “infiltrators”. It is arguable that Chhatrapati Shivaji, who attempted to protect and expand his rule against Mughals, was not advocating nationalism or the cause of a “universal Hindu rule”, who himself employed a substantial number of Muslims in his administration, including top military commanders.
Chhaava presents a simplistic narrative of Hindus versus Muslims or Indians versus foreigners, which is far removed from the complexities of the 17th century. This was a time of multiple states, emerging European powers, and shifting alliances that cut across religious and ethnic lines. The Sidis of Janjira, a formidable coastal power, were African Muslims, while Malik Ambar—an Ethiopian enslaved as a child—served as the Peshwa of the Ahmadnagar Sultanate for 26 years and became a legendary military strategist. Shivaji and his father initially served under the Adil Shahi Sultanate of Bijapur. Even after Shivaji rebelled to establish his own kingdom, he maintained alliances with the Adil Shahis, the Qutb Shahis of Golconda, and at times, even the Mughals. His rivalries were not strictly religious; he also fought against Hindu rulers such as the Nayaks of the Karnatic. Likewise, his successor, Sambhaji, formed alliances with Muslim Sultanates while opposing Hindu rulers like Chikka Devaraja of Mysore.
Spectacle of the Saffron cinema
The stage for films like Chhaava was set long ago. It now joins a growing list of over 20 blatant propaganda films, including The Kashmir Files, The Kerala Story, The Vaccine War, Article 370, Bastar – The Naxal Story, Swatantrya Veer Savarkar, JNU: Jahangir National University, The Sabarmati Report, and Samrat Prithviraj. Like several others, Chhaava received endorsements from the Prime Minister and other ministers and was made tax-free in certain BJP-ruled states. Notably, Uri: A Surgical Strike starred none other than Vicky Kaushal, further cementing Bollywood’s alignment with state-backed narratives.
Amidst the long-standing push to paint cinema in saffron, films glorifying India’s Hindu past—while erasing the country’s complex political and sociological history—have surged to the forefront. These films claim to “uncover truths and facts” but are instead crafted to establish Hindutva supremacy, fostering hostility towards Muslims and silencing dissenting voices. They serve as key instruments in the BJP-led Hindutva reimagining of the nation.
In the first year of the BJP government’s tenure, 2015, Pahlaj Nihalani was appointed as the new chairperson of the CBFC after the previous chairperson, Leela Samson, resigned citing government “interference and coercion.”
When Samson and 12 other colleagues resigned, they were replaced by individuals affiliated with the BJP government. Nihalani, upon assuming the role, expressed his admiration for Prime Minister Modi. Declaring himself a “BJP person”, he called Modi the “action hero” and “the voice of the nation.” Furthermore, more than half of the new board members had direct links to the BJP or were sympathetic to the party. This made the CBFC act as an enforcing agent of RSS-BJP, rather than certifying films.
After Nihalani stepped down from his role, Prasoon Joshi was appointed chairperson of the CBFC, a regular admirer of Modi, among other board members like Vivek Agnihotri, whose affinity for and bolstering of the Hindutva spirit is widely known.
The BJP’s efforts and accomplishments in cinema are not isolated. It operates a dedicated IT cell to spread its messaging, enforces laws that criminalize voices of resistance—whether in Kashmir or Bastar—and censors the truth in the interest of Hindutva revitalization, stoking “national interest” at every opportunity it gets.
The Issues that the BJP claims to champion are reflected in these films. Films on Kashmir, the hagiography of Savarkar and Modi, the shrinking of the opposition, vilification of the Muslims paint a bleak picture of the change that has been systematically mechanized.
In the world of propaganda films, Chaava has not only become a blockbuster but has also successfully distorted history. While it reaps monetary gains, its real victory lies in shaping narratives, as spectators celebrate without question. Meanwhile, facts and art are relegated to the background, overshadowed by spectacle.
(Syed Affan is a writer and Journalist based in Delhi. His reportage focuses on land conflicts, human rights, and policy.)
