#gogularaajan rajendran

[thozhar]

The story, which was developed by both Eve and Gogu since October 2023, is partly rooted in the childhood of Eve, a Mindanao native who had grown up with the violence of the Marawi conflict. As the daughter of a Filipino army man, Eve had been exposed to the conflict from a different perspective. Although she too grew up with the intimate and brutal reality of violence, her circumstances did not allow her to view the occupation from the perspective of the oppressed Muslims. Her reality was one that shielded her from understanding the conflict more complexly; thus, in her childhood, she viewed Muslims as aggressors without realising what prompted them to initiate the struggle for an independent state. Through visualising the displacement of the Maranao Muslims in Walay Balay, Eve expresses the inter-connectivity between their alienation to the larger alienation of the many peoples of the Philippines, who have been uprooted from their indigenous consciousness by the violence of colonialism.

“It is clear and important to me to see the story of the Muslim refugees because the Philippines was not a Christian country before the Spanish colonisation. Our ancestors were forced to convert to Christianity so they cannot be seen as enemies of the colonisers. Our ancestors who once owned the land and their identity eventually became lost in their own land stripped away of their own name. In a way, this is my way of telling that tragic, part of our history through our characters who lost their home and are in  search of their identities.” – Eve Baswel

The siege of Marawi, one of the oldest Islamic cities in Mindanao, happened in 2017 when ISIS collapsed the local government, occupied the city, and was warring against the Filipino government for nearly 5 months. Due to the violent conflict, many of the city’s residents had to evacuate, displacing nearly 300,000 people from their ancestral soil. Even after the reclamation of Marawi by the government, the Maranao Muslim refugees who had returned to their native land had been met with many bureaucratic difficulties. Till today, nearly 7 years after the conflict, many Maranao Muslims have not been properly relocated by the government. Due to the strong anti-colonial history that the Mindanao region has in fighting against the imperial subjugations of the Spanish, the Maranao people also refuse to bow to the hegemonic reign of the Catholic-dominated Filipino government, which is aggressively trying to centralise the Filipino landscape against the will of the masses. A way in which the government tries to claim power over the land is by demanding registered land permits from the residents of Marawi, who, in defiance of this neocolonial bureaucracy, refuse to abide by the self-made rules that the puppet government imposes on their rightful native land, a revolutionary spirit they have critically carried on since struggling against the violence of Spanish and American colonialism.

“Displacement is not new to us,” says Gogu, referring to how, as a descant of indentured Tamils who at first faced uprooting from their ancestral land in Tamil Nadu, and once again during the aftermath of colonialism, from the plantations, he too can understand the struggles of displacement, but he states that to him, the uprooting that Maranao Muslims have faced is far worse than the displacement of Plantation Tamils, for the Maranao Muslims had been made landless in their own land while the Plantation Tamils had been made landless on alien soil.

— Gogularaajan Rajendran on Co-directing Walay Balay, Filipino Cinema, and His Cannes Debut

[thozhar]

Gogu: Apart from the movie Jagat, I don’t see many clear attempts in Malaysian Tamil cinema to explore our identity. Nevertheless, I draw immense inspiration from other Malaysian filmmakers like Tan Chui Mui, Yeo Joon Han, U-Wei, and Dain Said. Their intimate films delve deep into the psyche of society, raising thought-provoking questions for the audience. It’s truly empowering to witness yourself, your community, and your landscape represented in films. It validates our existence, our joy, our dreams, and the personal struggles we go through.  One thing that truly fascinates me in Southeast Asian films is how they beautifully portray our local beliefs and magic. Our region has a rich history filled with rituals, ghosts, and myths, and seeing them come to life on the screen adds a unique touch to the storytelling, specific to this part of the world.  Moreover, there’s a naturally slow pace in our region, which Indonesians would call “santai.” It’s during these unhurried, laid-back moments that we reflect on our lives. However, this inherent rhythm is being disrupted by new fast-paced narratives and modern technology. Some fantastic filmmakers from our region, like Apitchapong and Lav Diaz, are constantly fighting against this trend. They strive to bring back alignment and harmony in our thoughts through their work. 

— Malaysian Tamil Film Duo Gogularaajan And Kumanavannan Rajendran On The Complexities Of Cinema, Southeast Asia, And Tamilness

[thozhar]

Gogu: Even after independence, the Tamils continued to be managed similarly to the colonial times. European estate managers remained involved in Malaysian plantations, and the political direction and policies of Malaysia did not undergo significant shifts from the colonial period to benefit the Indians.  As indentured labourers, the Tamils were seen as mere tools for profit and deliberately dehumanised. The oppression they faced was evident in every aspect of plantation life. From the regimental morning roll-call to the hierarchical divisions based on caste, from the promotion of toddy consumption to destroy their consciousness to the extremely small and substandard housing, and from being kept separate from the development of the new nation to limited access to education, everything was cunningly designed to strip away their self-respect and dignity, keeping them as ignorant slaves. Sadly, many Tamils were unaware of the extent of their oppression, as they were kept comfortable enough not to revolt.  It is indeed heartbreaking to see the lasting impact of the oppressive system on Tamil communities even today. Despite advancements in wealth, the chains of oppression have not been fully broken. The slave mentality still persists, hindering our ability to realise our true potential and independence. In the realm of arts, we continue to be enslaved to the influences of South Indian cinema and Hollywood, preventing us from exploring the true meaning of our existence in this land. I think when the Malaysian Tamils watch themselves represented truthfully in cinema, one step towards finding our identity would be taken. We must reclaim our narrative; that is our liberation!

— ‘Plantation Life: As It Was’ Documents And Reclaims The History Of Tamil Indentureship