What is a life in a protest movement? Nishtha Jain answers that question with her feature documentary Farming the Revolution, the winner of the coveted Best International Feature Documentary award at the 2024 HotDocs Festival on May 3 in Toronto.
The jury lauded the film for its enduring “cinematic sophistication and indomitable lyrical presence,” highlighting its effective portrayal of the power and persistence of ordinary people. The film was recognised for its deft narrative and visual eloquence in portraying a massive mobilisation of grassroots resistance.
Capturing the 16-month-long farmers’ protest, one of the largest and longest mass protests in contemporary India — Farming the Revolution — Nishtha Jain invites us into a realm where defiance takes centre stage, weaving a narrative of extraordinary courage and resilience. Against the backdrop of a COVID-induced lockdown, we are transported to the heart of a monumental uprising, where farmers stand united in opposition to the Indian government’s enactment of three contentious farm laws and fight the state’s war of attrition.
A still from Farming the Revolution. Photo: Akash Basumatari
In the 100-minute narrative, Jain adeptly portrays the protests’ grandeur with sweeping drone footage and carefully framed ground-level shots. Here, amidst the currents of dissent, we bear witness to a symphony of voices rising in defiance, echoing across the land. Despite the vast crowds captured from strategic angles, her narrative lens remains fixed on personal stories, adding depth and human connection to the larger movement. Through co-director (and director of photography) Akash Basumatari’s camera each scene unfolds with a poetic intensity, capturing the raw emotion and unwavering resolve of those who dare to challenge the status quo.
In the film, the essence of the movement is poetically likened to “deep water, silent and quieter.” This metaphor beautifully captures the profound nature of the cause, suggesting a depth that resonates with quiet intensity. This depth finds its anchorage in the ideological heritage of the Left movement in Punjab. It is this ideological legacy that infuses the movement with its profound significance, providing a sturdy foundation that guides its path and shapes its identity. Whether it be the ‘Mela Ghadari Babeiyan Da’ (‘Fair of Ghadar Veterans’) or the new murals that have appeared in rural Punjab, we are not surprised to see talks, performances of revolutionary songs and poetry and the access to revolutionary literature in the farmers’ movement. Whether it is the mise-en-scène (a mural of Gandhi oversees a tense debate on violence between a protester and an authority figure) or juxtaposing action with scenes where protesters quoting and reciting from Sikh literary heritage infuse history and tradition and adds depth to their fervour, with the poetry seamlessly integrated into the overall cinematic narrative.
With judicious use of voice-over narration and intermittent sound bytes from television reports, the film delicately propels its narrative forward while preserving the spontaneity and unpredictability of real-life moments. Niraj Gera’s sound design completes the aural experience. Through this artful balance, Jain crafts a cinematic experience that is both immersive and redolent, inviting viewers to bear witness to the raw beauty and complexity of the human condition amidst the changing of seasons and brutality of life in a protest tent.
Immersed in the vérité style of documentary filmmaking, we are transported into a world pulsating with authenticity and immediacy, as if we are mere witnesses to the unfolding events. The screen brims with a palpable sense of community and conviviality, unapologetically weaving in the intricate political backdrop that emboldens the farmers’ determination. Jain’s lens remains unobtrusive, delicately observing her subjects without imposing direction. With a keen eye for detail, the camera intimately trails its subjects, capturing their action, interactions, and emotions in a naturalistic embrace. The Uruguayan music composer, Florencia Di Concilio’s score offers a tonal leitmotif to enhance the cinematic experience and elevate the overall impact of visual storytelling.
Against the backdrop of a nation in lockdown, the protest enclaves that blossom outside Delhi became more than mere encampments; they emerged as vibrant bastions of resistance, where the principles of coexistence were redefined, and women stood shoulder to shoulder as equal partners in the political struggle. Day after day, these protestors, relegated to the margins of mainstream attention, embodied India’s diverse, unconquerable spirit. Together, they forge a new paradigm of coexistence, breathing life into sprawling protest sites that unfurl along the borders of Delhi.
At face value, in its exploration of the protests, the documentary deftly avoids prolonged focus on any one protester. Instead, it captures the essence of each participant, whether through their quirks or poignant moments of silent reflection captured on camera. Inherent in this lies the sophisticated storyteller in Jain for whom narrative structuring is intricate and deliberate, much like the stories she chooses to tell. In “Farming the Revolution,” she centred on three characters — the young farmer, the leader, and the two sisters — and through these protagonists, she seeks to unravel the reasons behind their presence. That contextualises the movement while the protagonists serve as signifiers.
Thus, it is revealed, that this documentary is not a reportage of the Farmers’ Movement per se. Rather, Jain’s interests and focus are on the power equations in contemporary India, especially on women and labour. She is not interested in the “system” but in the “life-world” of the human condition she investigates. This is precisely what is evident in her body of work — Gualbi Gang, Golden Thread, 6 Yards to Democracy, Proof, and City of Photos.
Conscious of the politics of image making and self-representation, social hierarchies, women’s empowerment, and labour movements, the director chose not to center the year-long farmer protest around a single character. Recognising that no individual could encapsulate the collective experience, the film instead showcased a diverse cast representing various demographics within the farming community. Through this multifaceted approach, the film aimed to capture the symphony of the protest as orchestrated by the collective efforts of farmers over the course of a year.
Amidst the growing movement, Veerpal Kaur, aged 34, emerges as a committed farmer-activist, her essence interwoven with the cause she champions. Alongside her elder sister, Beant Kaur, they have embraced the protests as their calling, and their allegiance unwavering. With deep roots in the farmers’ unions, they serve as beacons, rallying women from their community with a steadfast resolve. As if attuned to the echoes of the venerable Urgahan’s counsel, the leader’s voice resounds, its tender tones urging and inspiring: “This struggle, stripped of the essence of women, would only possess half its vigour, half its vitality.”
For the sisters, however, the protests represent more than just a battle against oppressive farm laws; they embody the sprouting of a new, egalitarian consciousness. Originating from Bhatinda, Veerpal quits her job at the local mall owned by the Indian business magnate Mukesh Ambani to join the movement. Together with her sister Beant Khosa, they proudly stood as members of the left-leaning farmer union BKU Ekta Ugrahan. In their household, the ideological currents flow strong, with cousins entrenched in left-wing organisations, their collective stance a testament to their resilience and unwavering conviction.
Certain women command attention with their formidable presence. Among them is Harinder Bindu, the admired leader of the Indian Farmers’ Union (BKU Ekta Ugrahan), whose spirited efforts mobilise women and marginalised Dalit labourers. Her lineage is etched with tragedy as her father fell victim to the separatist forces— Khalistanis — during the turbulent 1980s.
Similarly, the diminutive figure of Jasbir Kaur Natt, representing the Punjab Kisan Union, captivates the protesters, as she stands on the platform of Bahadur Garh railway station. Addressing a predominantly male audience of farmers, she delivers a heartfelt update on the tragic events unfolding at Lakhimpur Kheri — a lasting image etched in the mind.
As the movement surges forward, it transcends its agricultural roots, rallying support from diverse sectors of society, including industrial trade unions. With echoes of historic anti-colonial struggle, these protests symbolise a continuum of resilience and unity across generations. Against formidable odds, the unwavering resolve of the farmers yield an unexpected triumph, underscoring the enduring strength of collective action and human determination.
It is also a moment of resolution for the characters. Shunning his Canadian dream, Gurbaz Sangha declares: “I choose to become a farmer.” The two sisters then head back to their villages and actively encourage women to organise and engage in these movements. Joginder Singh Ugrahan, reflecting on the agitation’s successful outcome, shares a redeeming moment with a fellow farmer, “We are working for the next generation.”
A still from Farming the Revolution. Photo: Akash Basumatari
Jain’s journey as a filmmaker has been marked by encounters with various people’s movements. From her ventures into Bastar, a tribal region in Central India, in 2009, where her camera and footage were confiscated by authorities on the third day, to documenting the Dalit uprising in Una in Gujarat, in 2016 and the student uprising in 2017, each experience has left an indelible mark on her cinematic repertoire. While these episodes may find their place in a future essay film, her approach to filmmaking remains rooted in experiential storytelling, necessitating an intimate and non-transactional connection with her subjects. Despite the presence of several other filmmakers, each gaining unique access to tell their story, Jain believes that together, all these films could portray a more holistic picture of this larger movement with an equally large political spectrum.
It was Jain’s wish to capture the essence of the Shaheen Bagh movement — in the winter of 2019-20, Shaheen Bagh, a working-class Muslim neighbourhood in southeast Delhi, rose as a beacon of resistance against the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) — in a documentary but faced obstacles in finding a central character amidst government crackdowns and subsequent disruptions caused by events like the Delhi riots and COVID lockdown.
However, Jain’s HotDocs win propels her film forward to more competition, perhaps including the Oscars’ limelight, redirecting our focus from war narratives to the farmers’ struggles that shape our food system.
Narendra Pachkhédé is a critic and writer who splits his time between Toronto, London and Geneva. A version of this article was published in The News on Sunday Magazine.
