When Satyajit Ray Said Why His 'Hirak Rajar Deshe' Escaped 'Kissa Kursi Ka' Fate

Satyajit Ray is often celebrated for his humanist cinema, his lyrical storytelling, and his masterful command of form and emotion. But beneath the subtle realism and aesthetic finesse of his films lies a sharp political consciousness. Be it the rise of consumerism, the corruption of ideals, the alienation of youth, or the perils of authoritarianism, Ray’s range of work reflects a deep engagement with the social and political churn of his times. His films do not shout slogans. Instead, they pose unsettling questions, often through personal journeys, moral dilemmas, and quiet acts of resistance.

His Apu Trilogy, for example, captured the struggles of rural and urban Bengal with profound realism but steered clear of direct political commentary. However, as India transitioned through the upheavals of the 1960s and '70s — including political corruption, youth unrest, and authoritarian governance — Ray's cinema evolved to engage more directly with contemporary politics.

If 'Pratidwandi' (1970) portrayed a disillusioned youth grappling with unemployment and the ideological confusion of a politically volatile Calcutta, 'Seemabaddha' (1971) exposed the moral compromises in corporate culture, reflecting the rise of capitalism and bureaucratic elitism, while 'Jana Aranya' (1976) depicted how systemic decay forces even the most well-meaning individuals into corruption — a grim echo of India's Emergency era.

Ray's films reflected the socio-political realities of his time with layered sensitivity, though they never came across as overtly partisan. Ray was once asked, during an interview, if he deliberately avoided making major political statements.

The filmmaker disagreed. He told US magazine Cinestate: "I have made political statements more clearly than anyone else... In Middleman (Jana Aranya) I included a long conversation in which a Congressite discusses the tasks ahead. He talks nonsense, he tells lies, but his very presence is significant."

He added: "...there are definitely restrictions on what a director can say. You know that certain statements and portrayals will never get past the censors. So why make them?"

Ray also explained what was the possible reason that his film Hirak Rajar Deshe, a political satire made in the shadow of Emergency, did not face the same fate as Kissa Kursi Ka did.  

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Political Statement Through Satire In Hirak Rajar Deshe

Released in 1980 and written by Satyajit Ray himself, Hirak Rajar Deshe (In the Land of the Diamond King) stands as one of his most politically charged works — a rare blend of children’s fantasy and razor-sharp satire. A sequel to Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne (1969), this film takes a bold leap into dystopian allegory, critiquing authoritarianism, propaganda, and the suppression of free thought — all through rhymes that still resonate, with people sharing them while expressing dissent against a regime.

At its core, Hirak Rajar Deshe is a tale about a despotic ruler — the Diamond King of Hirak — who hoards wealth, censors education, silences dissent, and brainwashes people to ensure blind obedience. His favourite tool of control is the Jantar Mantar, a mind-wiping device used to indoctrinate anyone who questions his rule. In contrast stand Goopy and Bagha, the musically gifted duo who eventually lead a clever and musical rebellion against tyranny.

Sample these dialogues from the film: 

1. “Ora joto beshi pore, toto beshi jaane, toto kom maane (The more they read, the more they know, the less they obey)".

This line is spoken by the tyrannical king in the film as he justifies shutting down schools and discouraging education. It’s a blunt summation of how dictators fear knowledge, because education fosters independent thought, which is seen as a threat to unquestioned authority. Ray uses this line to expose the anti-intellectualism of despotic regimes, where obedience is valued over critical thinking. The king wants loyal, unthinking subjects — not informed citizens.

2. "Lekha-pora kore je, anahare mare se (He who studies and learns, ends up starving to death)".

This reflects the bleak reality of educated unemployment and the devaluation of intellectual labour under corrupt or indifferent systems. It’s a cruel mantra the King promotes to discourage education. With this line, Ray targets regimes where the educated are sidelined, and where the population is deliberately kept ignorant to maintain control.

3. “Dori dhore maro tan, Raja hobe khan khan (Pull the rope with all your might, the king will be bound to fall)."

This rhyme is chanted during the climax, as a call to overthrow the tyrannical Diamond King. It becomes a rallying cry for rebellion, simple enough for children to grasp but symbolically powerful—representing resistance against authoritarian rule.

What is unique in Hirak Rajar Deshe is that while all its characters speak in rhymes, there is one person — a teacher — who does not, symbolising the fact that when everybody's thoughts are bound, the country has this one free-thinking person.

While the film is often remembered for its catchy rhymes and colourful characters, its subtext was unmistakable to contemporary audiences, especially in the shadow of Emergency (1975–77), when censorship, propaganda, and state control were widely debated. Ray’s decision to critique totalitarian rule through a children's fantasy film was both strategic and brilliant. It allowed him to sidestep censorship while planting seeds of political awareness in the minds of young viewers.

Speaking to Cinestate, he elaborated this in his own words: "Have you seen Hirak Rajar Deshe (The Kingdom of Diamonds)? There is a scene of the great clean-up where all the poor people are driven away. That is a direct reflection of what happened in Delhi and other cities during Indira Gandhi’s Emergency."

He added: "In a fantasy like The Kingdom of Diamonds, you can be forthright, but if you’re dealing with contemporary characters, you can be articulate only up to a point, because of censorship."

Ray mentioned the 1978 film Kissa Kursi Ka (The Story of a Chair), which famously faced censorship, in this context. "You simply cannot attack the party in power. It was tried in The Story of a Chair and the entire film was destroyed. What can you do? You are aware of the problems and you deal with them, but you also know the limit, the constraints beyond which you just cannot go."

Kissa Kursi Ka was a spoof on then Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and her son, Sanjay Gandhi. In her book, The Emergency: A Personal History, journalist Coomi Kapoor writes: “The film was a parody of politics in India and featured characters who seemed to be based on real-life individuals… Most offending to the government was a clear spoof on Sanjay Gandhi and his small-car project.”

It was reported that the censor board sent it to the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting. Several objections were made, and the film was finally banned by the government. The prints were burnt too, and the matter saw a legal battle in court. A re-shot version of the film was later released and is now available online. 

What made Satyajit Ray different was his genius in not reducing characters to political pawns. Instead, he explored how larger systems and ideologies impacted individual choices, often using irony, silence, and ambiguity as tools. Ray didn’t make protest cinema in a traditional sense, but rather used nuanced storytelling to hold a mirror to his times, making his work both timeless and timely.

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