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When I was growing up, every dinner at home was spent watching the nightly news and I saw first-hand, the gradual devolution of broadcast journalism. It went from informed programming to glorified jingoistic shouting matches with a clear bias and agenda; from something that was principled and aware of its responsibilities to an abomination that resembled a mix between a soap opera and American professional wrestling. There was no truth; no substance. The news became nothing but a form of blatant propaganda.
What kept honest journalism alive was the work of a quiet resistance of journalists who refused to conform to what was quickly becoming the status quo across both national and regional news. Ravish Kumar, a veteran Hindi-language journalist with a career spanning four decades, has led the charge with grace, dignity, and a trademark tongue-in-cheek wit.
From the start of his career to today, Ravish has been one of the strongest voices of dissent and one of the harshest critics of the communalism, divisiveness, and polarization that certain political entities have been all too willing to embrace. His coverage of some of the most deplorable moments in the country's recent history, such as the 2019 Pulwama attacks, has been lauded for its unflinching commitment to upholding fundamental principles of honest journalism, despite pressure from all corners.
‘While We Watched’ is a Peabody-winning homegrown documentary that embodies the essence of his journalistic integrity. Over the course of its runtime, it illustrates what it means to uphold your principles and stand up for what you believe in, even in the face of adversity and seemingly insurmountable circumstances.
Directed by Vinay Shukla, the film gives us a fly-on-the-wall view of Ravish’s day-to-day at NDTV from 2018 to 2020. It paints a picture of a crumbling fourth estate that’s largely being held together by duct tape and the everlasting hope of a few good journalists who still remain committed to ideals of truth, justice, and equality.
Vinay’s lens never hides the pervasive air of doom and gloom that pervades the majority of the film’s scenes inside the NDTV newsroom and studio. Between politically motivated censorship and audits, a lack of funds, and a constant stream of staff resignations, at times it feels very much like Ravish and his team are fighting a tidal wave with a picnic umbrella.
There are certain shots with Ravish on the street where you get a palpable sense of the danger he puts himself in every single day. People hurl insults, and abuse, and even make subtle as well as not-so-subtle threats of violence against the man, but Ravish and his crew remain resolute in their mission. “The challenge was that we were shooting with Ravish, who was moving around with a security guard,” says Vinay. “But I feel very comfortable shooting on the streets and there’s a level of ease there because it’s what I’m used to. It’s always a little tricky, of course, but I think there’s greater equality on the streets than in enclosed spaces. With Ravish, the situation gets very charged because people come at him with greater emotion than they would at me. But that just required us to lean on our training a little more.”
The director used the experience he gained while directing his previous work, 2016’s ‘An Insignificant Man’, which followed Arvind Kejriwal and his Aam Aadmi Party and their foray into Indian politics for the first time. “There are directors who put themselves under tremendous pressure and physical strain to shoot a movie but I think this film was more about making a film that may well have ended up being watched by no one.”
Along with the chaos in Ravish’s professional life, we also get a rare glimpse of the man beyond the flashing lights, the teleprompters, and the cameras. We see a doting father and a devoted husband with a charming sense of humour and undeniable charm, but we also see how his unflinching commitment to upholding the craft of journalism comes at the cost of those he cares about.
The price that Ravish pays for upholding the truth is that he’s labelled an ‘anti-national’ terrorist sympathiser; an ‘urban naxal’. His life consists of round-the-clock hate calls and death threats. He also has to deal with an organisation that is clearly struggling to survive across a journalistic landscape that has forsaken any semblance of a principled stand in favour of ratings.
Despite everything falling apart around him at NDTV, Ravish remains steadfast. In his own stoic way, he pushes through the confusion and chaos around him and continues to find ways to shine a light and tell stories that a compromised mainstream refuses to acknowledge.
From covering the suicide of an aspiring income tax official waiting in vain for an appointment letter that never came to uncovering brutal cow-related lynchings in states like UP, Ravish uses the stories he tells every night to highlight the systemic corruption that’s running rampant across every pillar of our democracy. He implores people to wake up to the lies and distraction tactics of the ‘godi media’ and to pay attention to issues that are being deliberately obfuscated.
I often wonder how Indian journalism and nationalism become so inextricably intertwined. The scenes in the movie that show clips of Ravish’s cantankerous, morally bankrupt contemporaries underline the quagmire we currently find ourselves in. What was the first domino to fall and how do we begin to disentangle the fourth estate from the bed of hate, lies, and bigotry that it has made for itself? Is there any way to make responsible, empathetic and honest journalism mainstream again?
Ravish’s response isn’t necessarily the most optimistic but it’s perfectly pragmatic and on-brand. “The collapse of mainstream media cannot be replaced by any single policy. The bad actors, hateful elements, and corruption in the media will stay for a long time. And they will keep doing exactly as they please. No single policy will fix this. They’re not going to wake up one day and suddenly say, ‘From Monday, we will also work honestly.’ That won’t happen.” He believes that the crime committed by news channels against Indian society needs to be overcome by society itself and that it’s going to take some time for that to happen.
“If we had actual reporters, there would be diversity, responsible content, and a variety of issues being highlighted. Now, there is nothing. Even if you change the channel fifty times, the agenda of one person is running on all of them.”
The documentary highlights just how disconnected we can be from Ravish’s world. One of the reasons centrism and apolitical neutrality in privileged, English-speaking circles have always been popular choices is because we feel like we aren’t affected by the political shifts that occur every election cycle; that we’re protected in their own little bubbles so we feel like we don’t need to engage with the democratic process.
There are times when it genuinely feels like we effectively live in separate countries. Ravish rightly points out that language is often less of a barrier than privilege and apathy. “I do not see English speakers as a monolithic class,” he explains. “English speakers are very diverse. You can also find people who speak Hindi but live in bubbles of their own. I try to interact with those who are concerned with what is going around us. Once you reach out to them or they reach out to you, it creates a connection and language ceases to be a barrier.”
Ravish also takes it upon himself to give his Hindi-speaking viewers a view into the world of English journalism across a variety of stories, interviews, and profiles. His work acts as a gateway for those who don’t have access to global publications and their reportage. By doing this he hopes to bridge the gap that currently exists in the dissemination of information across the country. ”Quality journalism and knowledge should be distributed to the public.” he says. “It's like a free information scheme; a public service where I aim to spread as much information as possible."
Recently, we’ve seen Indian creatives finally receive some form of vindication for their convictions and for speaking out against the hate, injustice, and apathy that’s become pervasive across the world. The success of ‘While We Watch’ could point to the fact we’re finally beginning to see a change in public consciousness. Vinay asserts that all governments should feel reassured that the young will always fight back and that it’s incredibly short-sighted for them to assume they’re always going to be able to do exactly what they want to do. “There’s an entire generation of artists who grew up on this same principles as I did. Our artistic spirit was formed while we were young and that is here to stay. It’s very difficult to change the moral fibre that you build early on in life.”
What Vinay is most excited about is people who are morally “rigorous” and find a way to bring that rigour to their craft. The work they create stands up for a certain set of universally ‘good’ ideals and morals while also being compelling pieces of art. He emphasises that the integration of the two is also very important. “There are very good people who also make terrible films,” he says half-jokingly. “I’ve also come across people who make great films but who are completely morally inept. Right now there is a fantastic generation of artists who are extremely rigorous in both respects. There have been filmmakers who have stood their ground in the face of adversity and have delivered films which offer a counterpoint of resistance to mainstream narratives. This should tell you just how committed a lot of us are; irrespective of the government in power.”
The director feels that to encourage more young creatives to stand up for the common good, we need to give them a sense that the work they do is viable. The fact that a film as non-mainstream as ‘While We Watched’ can win awards, gain attention, and still allow the cast and crew to maintain a livelihood is a step in the right direction. Vinay also stresses the need to ensure that they feel like they are part of a community and that they aren’t being left out in the cold to fend for themselves.
While watching the documentary, I thought about the reasons I chose to become a journalist. The short answer is that I fundamentally believe that we all have a responsbility to speak truth to power. I want to be a voice for those without one and draw people’s attention to the evil and the apathy that’s become all too commonplace in the world. I want to believe I can make the world a better place in some way.
I’ve been an editor for over two years now and while I do feel like I’ve done some good work, I wonder how much of it is truly making a difference. I’m often torn between the wide-eyed idealism and naivete that guided me when I was younger and the pragmatic realities of an industry that’s wearing thin and falling apart the world over. There’s a scene in the movie where Ravish tells a young journalist that he has to “choose between journalism and keeping his job”. I often wonder how much good an ordinary journalist like me can do in the climate we’re currently in. I ask Ravish what he looks to for hope.
“Going through the process of alienation keeps you going as a journalist,” he says wryly. “The honest among us are scattered across different districts and cities. Their names might not be Ravish Kumar or Abhisar Sharma, but they too are working while maintaining their ethics. 99% of the media in this country has been corrupted but if even 1% of us are still committed to upholding the truth, then we still have a chance.”
