We Watched Patriotism Change On Screen, One Hero At A Time

Patriotic

films are a part of Indian cinema's DNA. We go to theaters to watch these films, we laugh and cry and get angry along with the hero of the film. We do not just watch these films, we feel them. Cinema is the mirror of society and it shows what we are, where we are in our lives. Cinema shows our evolution. Along with our society, our patriotic films have also changed over time; patriotic heroes have changed over time. While we still laugh, cry and get angry along with the hero, he is no longer one of us - he is a messiah, at whom we can only look with awe.

Story of hope - story of the common man

Long before cinema halls became air-conditioned multiplexes and stars became global brands, patriotic films gave audiences a shared emotional language. In the early decades of Indian cinema, especially during the freedom struggle and the years immediately after Independence, patriotic films were intimate and grounded. The heroes were ordinary men and women. Shaheed (1948), with Ram as its central character, is a perfect example. Ram is not superhuman. He is a young man driven by conviction, willing to sacrifice his life for freedom. His patriotism is raw, idealistic, and deeply human. He is inspired by a freedom fighter who treads the path of non-violence, but Ram soon realises he is different. He wants to snatch his freedom. Shaheed does not have a happy ending, it has a story that resonated with youth who saw the freedom struggle closely.

That spirit found an even more powerful embodiment in Mother India (1957). Radha is not a soldier or a revolutionary; she is a poor village woman struggling against famine, debt, and social injustice. Yet she becomes the moral backbone of the nation. Her patriotism lies in endurance, sacrifice, and an unshakable sense of right and wrong. Radha feels like someone we know, someone we might have grown up watching. Through her, patriotism is seen in survival and dignity.

Of love and war

By the 1960s, as India faced external threats, the patriotic hero began to wear a uniform. Haqeeqat (1964) introduced Captain Bahadur Singh, a soldier fighting in the harsh terrains of Ladakh during the 1962 war. Yet even here, the film emphasised vulnerability. Captain Bahadur Singh and his men are brave, but they are also tired, scared, and painfully aware of the odds stacked against them. Bahadur is aware he is losing the life he could have lived with his beloved - he is a man of duty, bound by love.

Pride and identity

The 1970s brought a shift in tone. In Purab Aur Paschim (1970), Bharat is less about battlefield bravery and more about cultural identity. He is a proud Indian confronting Western influence, defending values, traditions, and roots. Patriotism here becomes ideological. Bharat is confident, outspoken, and symbolic. He is named Bharat for a reason - he represents the privileged India of that time. Educated, aware yet connected to his roots. He is still relatable, but he also begins to represent an ideal rather than a reflection of the common man.

Heroes that inspire

The 1990s marked a turning point, both for Indian cinema and the nation itself. Border (1997) gave audiences Major Kuldeep Singh Chandpuri, based on the real-life hero of the Battle of Longewala. This was patriotism on a grand canvas. Chandpuri is courageous, strategic, and inspirational, leading a handful of soldiers against impossible odds. While deeply stirring, this hero already feels elevated. We admire him, we salute him, but we know he is extraordinary. However, he is still aspirational. While promoting the recent film Border 2, Sunny Deol said that many young men come up to him and tell him that Border inspired them to join the forces. If you are not the hero, aspire to be one - that's what this era taught us.

As India entered the new millennium, patriotic cinema began to reflect aspiration rather than identification. Swades (2004) introduced Mohan Bhargav, an NRI scientist who returns to India out of moral responsibility. Mohan is educated, privileged, and emotionally conflicted. His patriotism is internal and reflective. It comes out in the form of service and reform rather than slogans. While deeply moving, Mohan already feels slightly distant from the average viewer. The situations he sees are very real, but how he is positioned to improve them is out of our reach. He is a moral science chapter, ideal to read, difficult to implement in letter and spirit.

The era of the hero

By the time Uri: The Surgical Strike (2019) arrived, the transformation was complete. Major Vihan Shergill is not only a soldier fighting a war; he is a flawless, near-mythical figure. Strategic, fearless, emotionally controlled, and supremely confident even in the face of loss and adversity, he represents a new brand of cinematic patriotism. The audience no longer walks alongside the hero; it watches him in awe. Patriotism here is muscular, decisive, and spectacular. He wins, this hero only and only wins.

Recently, the world saw Dhurandhar (2025). Hamza Ali Mazari aka Jaskirat Singh Rangi is a spy but he is also a messiah. He fights battles alone, he hides his emotions well, he cries and kills for the nation. We see him takeover the crime syndicate he will eradicate later, and we see him do it with ease. The whole country is waiting for Dhurandhar 2 to watch his majestic revenge. Yes, we still laugh and cry and get angry along with our hero, but we also know he is away from us. We can never be him. We cannot aspire to be him. We can only clap for him.

This evolution tells us as much about society as it does about cinema. Early patriotic heroes reflected collective struggle and shared pain. Today’s heroes embody strength, certainty, and dominance. While we still feel deeply when we watch these films, the emotional equation has changed. The hero is no longer one of us; he is someone we look up to, someone who reassures us that the nation is in powerful hands. What remains constant is its ability to move us, to make us feel proud, angry, hopeful, and united. Even if the hero has changed, the emotion he evokes still belongs to all of us.