Ignoring history is ignoring yourself
This review is my opinion and contains spoilers.
“The Pakistani police aren’t here, but we are still Pakistanis!”
“Na Maloom Afraad 2″ is a 2017 Pakistani film directed by Nabeel Qureshi starring Fahad Mustafa, Javaid Sheikh, Nayyer Ejaz, Mohsin Abbas Haider, and Urwa Hocane. A sequel with a predecessor unavailable online with English subtitles, some may find the film moving fast in the beginning when introducing its characters. But it seems as though the film’s plot and circumstances are meant to take the characters out of their comfort zone, even if it is reminiscent of previous activities (the phrase “it’s just like we did last time” is only used to push characters forward, not to have the audience guess needlessly).
Even though the film feels like a shadow or an extension of prior work, its concepts and setups are clear and engaging. The film does veer into territory where it doesn’t have to and can simply be insensitive, specifically about the tortured portrayal of South African men who work at the behest of corrupt South Asian men. It is one thing to have moments of initiating violent acts as part of the evil characterization of the villains. Still, it is another to show them, especially considering their colonial implications. This seems inconsistent with the history of the desi population in South Africa, where many of them are descendants of indentured servants brought to the country in the 1600s. The film, set in Cape Town, shows there are plenty of white passing people, making up a majority of the police force and consumers in the market and on the beach, even though they make up one-fourth of the town’s population. Only two black characters speak; one works for the South Asian thieves, and the other, without a name and with two lines, works for the police.
South Asian films, in general, representing societies with an obsession for fairism, may try to position themselves as akin to white people. This has little to do with British imperialism and thinking of fairism as an overt symbol of power, as traditions dating back centuries associate a bride’s beauty with her fairness. But with colonial history and presiding racist beliefs, it makes sense that a Pakistani film would implicitly make production decisions that side with an imperial history. There is a history of trading between South Africa and the South Asian subcontinent even before indentured servitude began. Still, it needs to be clarified whether trading was fair or exploitative. It is more recent, with some Asian countries taking on the role of colonizers and profiting from resources ranging from fish to gold, taking advantage of post-colonial structures and even selling the continent’s resources back to them. But it’s more likely the film needs to be alluding to its current activities capable of exploiting, as it points out how Pakistanis are marginalized wherever they go. In this way, the film tries to have it all–an imagined shared status of power of a colonizer and a discriminated status. Even if the film were to show a desire not to feel overlooked, trying to hang out almost exclusively with white-passing people doesn’t give the characters it portrays much virtue. Perhaps this does happen within the diasporic communities in India, where fairsim is still an issue. I don’t know, and it’s a subject I wish I had insight on.
One reason for watching these films is to look at modern (at least after the 2010s) Pakistani stories and see what society I would have grown up in if my parents thought their careers had better prospects in Pakistan. These films are made in, or by people from the same cities or provinces, my parents lived in and may have chosen to live in. The stories and their characters could reflect who I might have become, with potential implicit biases presenting them in rather apparent ways as someone who has grown up as a minority in their country. Ultimately, I can’t compare myself to the people I see in these films, as I will never know what it’s like to trust my thoughts to reflect the general population’s. At most, I think I have been conditioned to think the way others do, despite the inconsistencies in belief structures where ideas empowering hegemonic systems do more to hurt minorities. Inequalities exist in Pakistan, and in a society where freedom of speech is not defined or practiced, it’s unlikely that many who want to change their country will challenge that power. It may be the types of stories I’ve encountered so far. Still, Pakistan sees itself as a homogenous society and is very uncomfortable with ideas that suggest otherwise.
Just as Pakistani films are a genre, different provinces and regions have their own stories to tell. Films, as artifacts of their culture, can provide samples of the time and place in which they were created, but they by no means dictate how people ought to behave. What I want to know about Pakistan is, if a film is a blockbuster, is it because it resonates with the audience or because it amuses the audience? It likely depends on the film, but even canceled films can become blockbusters. Na Maloom Afraad 2 was set to release in the UAE but was paused by the censor board, perhaps due to its stereotyping of Arabs. This controversy may have created more intrigue for the film, but in most cases, criticisms emerge after a film is released. Since most blockbusters make their returns during opening week, stark criticism may have yet to deter the masses already swayed by the marketing and hype built up to then.