Shivaji: Brotherly concern or moral policing?

"When a man wears shorts, he's 'functional.' When a woman wears them, she's 'distracting'”

The above statement connotes the disparity in sartorial judgment, where male attire is viewed as an exercise of agency while female dress is scrutinized as a moral indicator, underscoring a regressive misogynistic framework that persists even within ostensibly progressive modern social structures.

Throughout history, various monarchs and leaders have used their power to dictate women's attire, often to enforce social hierarchy, religious conformity, or personal aesthetic preferences.

King James I of England, known for his deep suspicion of women, whom he described as "frailer" and "more prone to the Devil's lures," openly expressed disdain for the bare necklines and face-painting popular in his court. He viewed these styles as offensive and a sign of moral decay.

Similarly, King George V of the United Kingdom disliked any "exaggerated" fashions and expected his daughter to dress with the simplicity of a country squire's daughter, even though she was technically under no formal obligation to defer to his taste.

Even to this day this patriarchal mindset endures. A recent example is the binary surrounding Tollywood actor Shivaji's statement, where he used misogynistic language to attack the morals of women in the film industry based on their clothing choices.

During a film launch promotion, Shivaji, who played a character named "Mangapathi" (a character that opposes girls' freedom) in the movie “Court”, morphed his promotional speech about general morals into an attack on the industry's women for the clothes they wear.

This action not only echoed the historical mindset of controlling monarchs but also displayed a contemporary "Mangapathi" ideology or a culture of impunity.

In his speech, the actor offered unsolicited advice to women in the industry regarding their appearance and behaviour. In other words, he believed that it was the only way they were to be seen worthy.

He suggested that women face harassment because they do not dress "modestly" in traditional attire like sarees.

His statement reflects the persistent issue that, even in a global powerhouse like Tollywood, womanhood is rarely allowed to be complex. The comments insisted on rigid binaries: the "good girl" versus the "bad girl," because nuances are too unsettling for this viewpoint.

The "good girl" is presented as dutiful, modest, and family-oriented, protecting her reputation at all costs.

The "bad girl" is outspoken, sensual, and bold, attractive but dangerous, desired for commercial success of the movie but not respected in real life.

Tollywood has perpetuated this binary for decades. Consider the stark contrast between the heroine in a saree singing in a temple and the "vamp" in a tight dress, such as the character singing "Oo antavaa..," seducing men.

One is the woman deemed suitable for marriage; the other, a secret desire or someone whose dignity is portrayed as a negotiable transaction.

Ultimately, his statement is a vocal display of the Madonna-whore complex, splitting women into saints and sinners, placing them on a pedestal or discarding them.

Shivaji's (He was part of the BJP politics in AP) moral lecture, which reflects Hindutva propaganda, exposes a mindset far deeper than a simple promotional stunt.

His statements, which some critics have labelled as regressive propaganda, reveal a persistent inertia within the film industry. Gender progress is frequently treated as an optional marketing gimmick rather than a professional necessity.

The rhetoric also showcased the lingering influence of a "Mangapathi mindset”, his villainous, controlling character in the 2025 film Court: State vs A Nobody, that continues to haunt the industry’s portrayal and treatment of women.

Though Sivaji issued an unconditional apology, he initially defended his comments as a "brotherly concern." This excuse was widely confronted by some actresses who have formed a platform called "Voice of the Women".

The group contended that his moral lecture had nothing to do with actual morality or "brotherly concern." Instead, they argued, it was an attempt to enforce socially imposed expectations of women within the patriarchal superstructures that exist in places like Tollywood.

In his defence of "brotherly concern," his rhetoric, shaped by his Hindutva political advocacy, actually contributes to a culture that sexualizes women’s bodies and dictates their behaviour.

By framing women's clothing as a moral failure, his comments reinforce harmful social perceptions that impact how women are viewed and treated throughout their lives.

What’s more aghast is the silence of Tollywood superstars including Pawan Kalayan, the deputy CM, who never misses a moment to project himself a committed warrior of women’s rights and safety to condemn Shivaji’s moral policing posture.

The actor's moral lecture, combined with the silence of several Tollywood superstars to condemn his statements, highlights a broader trend: These superstars that enact champions of women rights and protectors of their modesty on screen, often use moral policing tactics under the guise of protection to uphold patriarchal structures within the industry with cultural impunity.

Their hesitation to speak out suggests that while gender progress is often used as a marketing tool, the underlying power dynamics remain heavily influenced by traditional patriarchal binaries not only in Tollywood, but in every space of the society, which reflects a broader, deeply embedded patriarchal superstructure.