Cinema Is Not Policy, But Films Like Dhurandhar Culturally Reflect India’s Place in the World
The progression from Purab Aur Pachhim to Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge to Dangal is not a neat policy timeline. It is something subtler: a cultural echo of India’s journey from caution to engagement to assertion. The shift is not just in policy documents or diplomatic speeches; it is embedded in how stories are told, how characters behave, and how audiences respond.
Recent Bollywood blockbusters like Dhurandhar (2025) and Dhurandar (2026), have triggered intense debate about whether cinema is shaping public understanding of the state, power, and even foreign policy. The reactions, especially around Dhurandhar, reveal a deeper anxiety: are we beginning to read films as factual representations of political reality? That would be a mistake.
Cinema is not a policy document. It does not explain the state; it performs it. Yet, to dismiss films entirely would be equally flawed. As Satyajit Ray once suggested in a different context, “Cinema’s characteristic forte is its ability to capture and communicate the intimacies of the human mind.” It is precisely in these intimacies, in the minor details, emotional arcs, and cultural cues, that films quietly reflect the political culture of their time.
If approached carefully, cinema becomes less a source of facts and more a diagnostic tool. It reveals how a nation imagines itself in the world. Three films across decades like Purab Aur Pachhim, Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, and Dangal do not narrate Indian foreign policy directly. But in their silences, symbols, and character choices, they trace the evolution of India’s relationship with its diaspora and, more broadly, its global self-image.
Cultural Anxiety and Defensive State
The India of Purab Aur Pachhim (1971) emerged from a time of economic fragility and geopolitical caution. The decades following independence were marked by the logic of the Non-Aligned Movement, where India sought autonomy from both Western and Soviet blocs. In this environment, the diaspora was not yet an asset; it was often viewed as a sign of, loss of talent, of loyalty, of cultural grounding.
The film encodes this anxiety through its protagonist, Bharat, who travels to the West not to integrate but to correct. The West appears morally unmoored, while India is presented as a repository of discipline and tradition. These are not policy statements, but they echo a broader foreign policy instinct: defensive, cautious, and protective of identity. Soft power here operates as a shield. It is less about influencing others and more about preserving the self. The cinematic narrative becomes an extension of a state still unsure of its place in the global order.
Diaspora as Strategic Bridge
By the time Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (1995) arrived, India had undergone a structural transformation. The economic reforms of 1991 had altered the state’s relationship with the world. Liberalisation did not just open markets; it reshaped imagination. The Indian abroad was no longer a figure of suspicion but a potential partner in growth.
The character of Raj embodies this shift. He is Western in lifestyle yet rooted in what the film repeatedly calls “Indian values.” His moral legitimacy comes from balance, not rejection. This subtle recalibration mirrors the state’s evolving approach toward the diaspora. Initiatives such as the institutionalisation of diaspora engagement and policy frameworks that recognised overseas Indians as stakeholders reflected a new logic: connection as capital.
In this phase, soft power becomes transactional without appearing so. Cinema reassures the diaspora that belonging is intact, even across borders. The message is not defensive but inviting. India is no longer asking its people abroad to return; it is asking them to remain connected. The emotional economy of the film aligns with a policy goal of building influence through networks, investment, and advocacy. The state begins to see itself not as isolated, but as extended.
From Connection to Assertion
With Dangal (2016), the grammar changes again. India is no longer speaking only to its diaspora; it is speaking to the world. The film’s extraordinary reception in non-Western markets, particularly in Asia, signals a shift in how Indian stories travel. They do not rely on exoticism or diaspora nostalgia. Instead, they draw on universal themes like discipline, aspiration, familial tension; that resonate across cultural boundaries.
This is not accidental. It reflects a broader transformation in India’s foreign policy posture, where initiatives framed around global cooperation and leadership have become central. Cultural exports now function as instruments of presence. They carry narratives of resilience and merit that align with the image India seeks to project internationally.
Soft power, in this phase, is no longer protective or merely connective. It is assertive. It does not ask for validation; it assumes relevance. The success of Dangal suggests that Indian cinema can operate as a global language without mediation. This is a significant departure from earlier decades, where cultural legitimacy often depended on Western recognition.
Cinema is not Reality
To treat these films as factual accounts of foreign policy would be reductive. Cinema simplifies, exaggerates, and dramatizes. It creates coherence where reality is often fragmented. But within that simplification lies insight. Films capture the emotional climate in which policies are imagined and received. They reveal how the state wishes to be seen and how society negotiates that vision.
The progression from Purab Aur Pachhim to Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge to Dangal is not a neat policy timeline. It is something subtler: a cultural echo of India’s journey from caution to engagement to assertion. The shift is not just in policy documents or diplomatic speeches; it is embedded in how stories are told, how characters behave, and how audiences respond.
As debates around contemporary cinema intensify, it is worth remembering that films are neither propaganda manuals nor policy briefs. They are cultural texts. Their value lies in what they suggest, not what they declare. In reading them carefully, especially in the pauses, the contradictions, the emotional cues, we begin to understand not just what India does in the world, but how it feels about its place within it.
Cinema may not give us the facts of foreign policy. But it gives us something equally important - the imagination (behind it).
(The author is a final-year political science student and geopolitical researcher specializing in great power politics, climate security, and international strategic affairs who writes on contemporary global issues with a policy-oriented lens. Views expressed are personal. He can be contacted at piyushchaudhary2125@gmail.com )

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