Andrzej Wajda: In pursuit of truth

Contemporary global politics presents a familiar paradox. Modern western civilisation, with its long history of colonisation and imperial power, continues to operate under the ideological garb of democracy, liberalisation, and free-market economics, pursuing relentless wealth creation with scant attention to ethical questions of distribution, equality, or empathy. Simultaneously, the Eastern Bloc — often masked as socialism — advances a strikingly similar agenda in the name of progress. Together, these competing power formations have enabled oligarchies, authoritarian regimes, and military juntas, particularly across socially underdeveloped regions and emerging economies. Emerging technologies have further consolidated these political and economic orders, as have technology-driven cultural instruments — cinema, television, and digital media.

This dynamic is not unprecedented. During the Cold War, ostensibly opposing ideological blocs exercised comparable control over resources and creative labour, also shaping cultural production to serve political ends. Culture and resistance have historically been regarded as threats to entrenched power structures because they question authority and expose mechanisms of subjugation. Art, by contrast, is inherently inclusive: it invites collective engagement in the pursuit of truth, embraces diversity, and resists homogenisation. It is precisely this quality that renders art dangerous to authoritarian regimes, regardless of their ideological banners.

It is within this broader political and cultural framework that the retrospective of Andrzej Witold Wajda at the upcoming Bengaluru International Film Festival, assumes particular significance marking the centenary year of the filmmaker’s birth. It serves as both homage and critical re-engagement. Wajda’s cinema offers sustained reflections on resistance, and the role of art during periods of historical trauma brought about by political violence — irrespective of the ideological justifications of those in power.

Poland’s 20th century history is marked by two major phases of resistance. Armed resistance, embodied by the so-called “cursed soldiers”, waned by the 1950s. The late 1980s, however, witnessed a far-reaching civil-society movement through strikes, protests, and underground networks. This movement forced negotiations with the state and culminated in partially free elections. At its centre was Solidarity, which began as a trade union but evolved into a mass social movement challenging the state’s monopoly on power and exposing the contradictions of a regime claiming to represent workers’ interests. Its commitment to non-violence proved crucial, enabling broad participation and sustained pressure even during the imposition of martial law between 1981 and 1983. The cumulative effect of this movement rendered the existing political system untenable, paving the way for a peaceful transfer of power and influencing democratic transitions across the Eastern Bloc.

Wajda emerged as a central cultural figure within this historical moment. Through allegory, symbolism, and direct historical engagement, his films articulated critiques of systemic oppression. He influenced and connected contemporaries such as Krzysztof Kieślowski, Krzysztof Zanussi and many other prominent filmmakers of his time in sharing a fight for artistic freedom. Although Wajda began his filmmaking career during the era of armed resistance in the 1950s, it was his cinematic engagement with the Solidarity movement —characterised by aesthetic complexity and political nuance — that most clearly established his role as an artiste of resistance.

Born on March 6, 1926 and active until his death on October 9, 2016, Wajda was a leading figure of the Polish Film School. His international recognition included an Honorary Academy Award, the Palme d’Or, and honorary Golden Lion and Golden Bear awards. He first gained prominence through his war trilogy — ‘A Generation’ (1955), ‘Kanał’ (1957), and ‘Ashes and Diamonds’ (1958) — films that redefined cinematic representations of war, memory, and moral ambiguity in post-war Europe.

Across a career spanning more than 50 films, Wajda consistently confronted Poland’s most painful historical experiences: the Warsaw Ghetto (‘Samson’, 1961; ‘Korczak’, 1990), the fate of resistance fighters after the imposition of communism (‘Ashes and Diamonds’), Polish responses to the Holocaust (‘Holy Week’, 1995), and the Solidarity movement itself (‘Man of Iron’, 1981). His films are equally notable for their extraordinary performances, showcasing the depth of Polish acting talent — from Elżbieta Czyżewska’s introspective vulnerability in ‘Everything for Sale’ (1969), to Zbigniew Cybulski’s iconic fatalism in ‘Ashes and Diamonds’, and Wojciech Pszoniak’s portrayal of the Jewish industrialist in ‘The Promised Land’ (1975).

Among Wajda’s most politically consequential works are ‘Man of Marble’ (1976) and ‘Man of Iron’ (1981). These films dismantled state-sponsored myths and legitimised dissenting narratives at critical historical junctures. ‘Man of Marble’ interrogated the cult of the socialist hero and exposed the Stalinist-era propaganda, planting the seeds of political scepticism. ‘Man of Iron’, filmed amid the Gdańsk shipyard strikes, documented the emergence of Solidarity and featured Lech Wałęsa as himself, transforming the film into both a cinematic intervention and a historical document. Frequently censored or shelved, his films circulated as rare artefacts of truth beyond state control, empowering audiences and shaping collective memory.

Throughout his oeuvre, Wajda returned to themes of historical trauma, constructing a cinematic archive that preserved memory while resisting ideological appropriation. His work articulated a vision of national identity grounded not in doctrine but in human dignity and ethical responsibility.

By confronting forbidden subjects, Wajda transformed filmmaking into an act of public defiance. He also mentored younger filmmakers, fostering a tradition of politically engaged cinema that gradually eroded state control over cultural expression. He once observed: “The censors were monitoring words, but we used a language of images.”

Ultimately, Andrzej Wajda’s films were instruments of resistance, ethical inquiry, validation of lived experience, and catalysts for political change. In doing so, they contributed decisively to the cultural conditions that enabled Poland’s transition away from authoritarianism in that period.

(The author is a well-known film critic)