Brigadier Pratap in Shaurya: A disturbing new icon for Gen Z normalizing Islamophobia in India

In today’s digital world, young people are shaped not just by their families, schools, or communities, but increasingly by what they consume on social media and streaming platforms. Films, music, memes, and short clips from older movies are constantly repackaged and recirculated, often stripped of their original context. In this ever-scrolling environment, even old content can suddenly become popular again, sometimes in ways that twist the creator’s original message. A clear example of this is Shaurya, a 2008 courtroom drama that has recently gone viral, especially in the aftermath of the tragic Pahalgam terror attack. At the center of this renewed attention is a character named Brigadier Pratap. His growing popularity, especially among Gen Z, raises serious and troubling questions about the normalization of Islamophobia in Indian popular culture.

Brigadier Pratap, portrayed by the talented Kay Kay Menon, is a senior officer in the Indian Army who leads the prosecution against a quiet, young Muslim soldier accused of killing his superior. At first glance, Pratap seems like a patriotic, duty-bound officer, firm in his belief in law, order, and national pride. But as the film unfolds, it becomes increasingly clear that his actions are not motivated by justice or truth. Instead, he is driven by a deep-seated hatred towards Muslims, a bias that he does not even attempt to hide. In his dramatic courtroom speeches, he uses forceful language and righteous anger, attacking the accused soldier not just for the alleged crime, but for his religious identity. Yet he wraps his prejudice in the flag, using the language of nationalism to justify his hate.

What’s worrying is that many viewers today are not seeing him as the antagonist he was meant to be. Instead, on social media platforms like Instagram, X (formerly Twitter), and YouTube, short clips of Brigadier Pratap’s fiery monologues are being widely shared and admired. These videos are often edited to appear motivational, complete with dramatic background music and nationalistic visuals. In the comment sections, users praise him as a "true patriot," a "hero," or someone "brave enough to say what others are afraid to." There is little to no mention of the film’s final message, where Pratap’s actions and ideology are ultimately exposed and condemned.

This shift in interpretation is deeply troubling. It shows how easily fiction can be manipulated to serve real-world ideologies. Brigadier Pratap was created to be a warning, a reminder of how dangerous it can be when personal hate is disguised as public duty. But instead of being seen as a villain, he is becoming a role model for a section of youth that increasingly sees anger and intolerance as signs of strength. This is not just a misunderstanding of a movie character; it reflects a deeper social and political problem.

India today is going through a time of deep political division. Religious minorities, especially Muslims, often face suspicion, hostility, and systemic discrimination. Hate speech and communal violence are on the rise. In such an environment, a character like Major Pratap, who expresses clear anti-Muslim views, can easily be adopted as a symbol of a certain kind of nationalism. His confidence gives him influence. And his hate, tragically, is mistaken by some as honesty or courage.

For Gen Z, the generation growing up with reels and algorithm-driven content, context is often the first thing to disappear. Platforms are designed to reward what is short, emotional, and dramatic. Nuanced storytelling, moral complexity, and full narratives are often lost in favor of quick, punchy moments. Many young viewers who have never seen Shaurya in full may only know Major Pratap through 30-second videos. They may never reach the part of the film where his hateful views are exposed. In that sense, a story meant to challenge hate is now, ironically, being used to spread it.

This isn’t just about Shaurya. It’s about how content is being consumed and reshaped in today’s media landscape. Films, books, and other cultural products don’t exist in a vacuum. They live on in the way people talk about them, share them, and reinterpret them. And when stories are stripped of context, they can be weaponized to support ideas they were meant to challenge.

The rise of Brigadier Pratap as a cultural icon should serve as a wake-up call. It’s a reminder that representation matters, not just how characters are written, but how they are remembered and reused. It’s also a warning that hate, once given a platform and dressed in the language of patriotism, can spread quickly—especially among young, impressionable audiences.

We need to start asking hard questions. Are we doing enough in our education systems, our media spaces, and our families to promote critical thinking and empathy? Are we teaching young people to question what they see online, or are we letting social media shape their beliefs without challenge?

Filmmakers have a responsibility too. While Shaurya clearly intended to send an anti-hate message, many films today play with fire, mixing nationalism and religion in ways that confuse rather than clarify. We need stories that don’t just entertain but also build understanding, especially in such a diverse country.

Teachers, critics, and content creators must engage more actively with popular media, offering analysis, reviews, and breakdowns that help viewers see the full picture. Parents and guardians must also talk to young people about what they’re watching and why it matters.

Shaurya was a powerful film with a powerful message: that hate in uniform is still hate, no matter how well-spoken or decorated it may appear. But now, parts of that film are being used in exactly the way the filmmakers warned against. That’s not just unfortunate- it’s dangerous.

What’s happening with Brigadier Pratap is not just about one movie or one character. It’s about how easily stories can be misused in a time when attention is short and outrage sells. It’s about how hate can hide in plain sight and how we must be smarter, more critical, and more compassionate in how we consume and share the media around us.