Filmed in 1938, less than a decade before Indian independence, Delhi has a curious tale to tell. ‘Delhi’, the viewer is informed, ‘is the cockpit of the Indian Empire’, it provides the  ‘gateway to the riches of the south’. The opening sections of the film focus upon those who have tried and failed to establish a lasting power in the capital. ‘At Delhi’, the commentator states, ‘successive cities have been built by conquering invaders – each has fallen into disuse and decay’. The camerawork focuses on the ‘impressive ruins’ of these earlier invaders. Although the film also depicts the enduring architecture of Muslim rulers, such as Akbar and Shahjahan, it is stressed that their power has been superseded. Legend has it that it will be the ninth city of Delhi that ‘will endure and will rule forever’. Shahjahan had built the eighth.

Two thirds of the way through the film we get a dramatic interjection. Shahjahan’s old Delhi has been depicted as a city in which ‘the pursuit of happiness is expressed in languor’. The film has shown the doleful courtly rituals of high caste Brahmins, who stroll and relax among the old palace gardens. But then there is a sudden change. A jarring cut provides us with the image and the sound of a British soldier blowing his bugle. There is a then a cut back to the palace gardens, still filled with perambulating Indians, but then a cross-fade removes these people from the scene. And then there is a cut back to the bugler. Military music commences and there is then footage of marching Indians in khaki uniforms. British power has arrived. It is the Raj that will witness the ‘ninth enduring Delhi’.

This eternal city is represented with images of Lutyens’ architecture. There is extensive footage of Connaught Place and of the new governmental buildings and grounds. What marks this film out, however, is that it envisages the future as being a combined British and Indian endeavour. The film depicts the new House of Assembly where, it states, ‘British, Muslims and Hindus combine in governing’. The film then argues that this ‘spirit of the new and vital Delhi’ has been ‘externalised in a new style of architecture, deriving its inspiration not from one tradition but from two, moulding the culture of two continents’. It is notable that the film does not mention the dominant hand that Lutyens played in this architectural design. Also notable are the characteristics that the film attributes to each country. Old Delhi is depicted as a place of ‘extreme lassitude’, while the New Delhi is ‘dynamic’. Indian architecture is ‘beautiful’ and ‘almost effeminate’; the British have introduced the ‘austere geometry of modern architecture’. The film talks of a ‘neo-Indian’ Delhi, which is represented by an image of an Indian woman driving a Volkswagen Beetle.

The film’s commentary argues that ‘British and Indians are co-operating to carve out a nobler future for this Delhi than was possible under the despotism’. Its images, editing and structure do much to undercut this statement, however. First, there is little evidence of co-operation: instead Indians and British are depicted as being ‘others’. They dress differently, act differently, and are not witnessed interacting. Secondly, the film emphasises India’s continuing traditions, not its future. The Indians who are on most prominent display are the women who walk among the palace gardens, just as in times past. Thirdly, the British that we see are hardly non-despotic. They are introduced by means of military images, and most British people are seen in army uniform. Moreover, it should not be forgotten that the British era is introduced with sudden and jarring images; the editing here argues against compatibility with Indian life. Finally, the film is undercut by its own narrative structure. It covers successive periods of power and successive styles of architecture - is the viewer really to believe that this ninth incarnation of Delhi will be the one that endures forever?

Richard Osborne (October 2009)