For the fourth time in the last five years, the students of the Film and Television Institute of India (FTII) have boycotted their classes and struck camp under the shadow of the imposing main gate on Pune's Law College Road. The newspapers (and as a result, all the rest of us) have dismissed this as only the latest incident in the "history of strikes" that the Film Institute has become notorious for.

However, consider this: Every year, 40 young people from different corners of the country (64 this time), all of them graduates and many with substantial work experience behind them, decide to invest three years of their lives in the serious study of film-making at the FTII. It's not the kind of course you can easily walk into when you fail to get admission elsewhere. Over a thousand applicants sit for an entrance exam, and those shortlisted are then subjected to further tests and personal interviews by a selection panel before being finally chosen. So, "a history of strikes" is a convenient phrase for those who run the Institute to fall back upon, but isn't it time to ask why year after year, each new batch of students feels so desperate with what they encounter at the FTII that they risk all their aspirations and go on strike? What is going on at one of India's best institutions of higher learning and one of the world's finest film schools that has brought it to such a pass? Who runs the FTII, and what are they doing to it?

Briefly, some background: The FTII is an autonomous institution under the Union Ministry of Information and Broadcasting, which funds it fully. Even though the FTII is supposed to run completely independent of any political or bureaucratic interference, in practice this can never be the case since its Governing Council consists mainly of bureaucrats - secretaries from the I&B and Finance ministries as well as the chiefs of government organisations like NFDC, Doordarshan and Films' Division. Besides, the FTII's Director is invariably appointed by the ministry and can only remain in the post as long as the powers above him approve of what he's doing.

Until 1996, the FTII had four courses of study: film direction, cinematography and sound engineering for three years each, and editing for two years. An applicant had to specify which course s/he wished to be admitted to. After joining, the first year was common to all, where students were given a grounding in all aspects of film-making. But even while attending these classes, students had free access to the library and could view upto nine films a week. They would also assist on the senior students' film projects, and interact with the teachers in their spare time. All this helped them to prepare for the particular specialisation of their choice almost from the first day of joining the Institute. At the end of the first year, every student made a five-minute film (16mm, BW), assisted by classmates. In the subsequent years, each specialisation consisted of lectures, assignments and a series of film-making exercises and workshops, culminating in the diploma film, a three-reeler on 35mm BW or two-reeler in colour. A basic working knowledge of video technology was also part of the curriculum, and one of the final-year projects was a video documentary. The FTII's television wing was created in the 1970s with the expressly stated purpose of conducting in-service training courses for Doordarshan personnel, and it had little connection with the regular courses of study, being tailored to DD's specific requirements.

Two basic problems now face the FTII. The most serious of these is that the government has decided it would rather not fund the Institute. Whether such a decision is valid should be the subject of serious debate, but it doesn't alter the immediate issue at hand. The FTII can't be shut down, since everyone on the staff, from the watchman and sweepers to the office clerks and teaching faculty are permanent government employees who cannot simply be asked to pack up and leave. So, the ministry has told those who run the Institute that they must make it 'self-sufficient'. Since pruning excess office staff or curtailing their perks is not an option, the Governing Council has homed in on the one soft target that it is completely within their powers to manipulate: the film-making courses themselves.

Matters are made worse by the FTII's severe shortage of teaching staff. It's like this: to be on the Institute's faculty is to have an assured income for life including the bonuses that go to government employees, plus an apartment in Pune. If you're a clerk, that's a pretty good deal - but if you're a film-maker or a qualified film teacher, it's hardly the most stimulating way to use your talents. So the FTII's faculty consists almost entirely of past students who have preferred to remain in the security of the campus they know and love. They mean well, and are well grounded for the most part in basic technique, but they're all hopelessly out of touch with the real world of film-making. Some of the gaps in their abilities are filled by inviting guest teachers to conduct workshops. As more teachers reach retirement age, it's become difficult to recruit new faculty. In spite of this, until six years ago, the structure and content of the courses was such that anyone who was focussed upon learning found that the FTII provided every opportunity to do so.

In 1996, the FTII's syllabus was abruptly changed. All the courses were cut down to two years' duration, and film direction was turned into a 'post-diploma' course which would only admit those who already possessed a diploma in any technical discipline. New courses like production and art direction were added. These changes were made within the span of one summer vacation, and admissions hurriedly carried out for the new semester. Within a few months, there was chaos on campus. Students who had joined the new courses found that there were no proper facilities for them at all. The direction course, with 10 seats, had managed to admit just one student and bolstered its numbers to three when some foreign students joined. The students then discovered that there was not enough film stock for them to make their first-year ending exercises (which they were now required to make at the end of six months thanks to the shortened course). After many frustrating discussions and meetings with the administrators, they went on strike.

Since then, the FTII's courses have never gone back to normal. A syllabus review committee was appointed as a resolution to the strike in 1996. This committee, consisting of past students (most of them award-winning film practitioners), faculty members and student representatives, submitted detailed recommendations for a revised syllabus which would bring the FTII's courses up to date with current film practice, and at the same time retain the spirit in which learning had always taken place on campus.

While declaring constantly their intention to implement the revised syllabus, the FTII's administration pushed into place last year a fresh plan: Instead of admitting 40 students to four diploma courses, they would admit 80 to a one-year 'certificate' course with no specialisation. After they passed this, 48 would be admitted to a further one-year certificate course in specialisation. Upon passing this, 32 would be allowed into a one-year diploma course. Admission to the higher courses would be at the discretion of the administration and faculty, and would be based upon, among other criteria, "professional behaviour". The now defunct television wing was merged with the film wing, so that its faculty could fill all the vacant teaching posts. However, since there are limitations to what they can teach, many of the film training exercises were replaced by Doordarshan training modules, with the excuse that television is an expanding industry which the FTII must train its students to be part of. Film screenings were cut to three a week, with a strict rationing of the number of world classics to be shown to the students, lest they get too many ideas about themselves as film-makers. Lectures in film theory were similarly cut down, as were the number of library books students could borrow. Written examinations were abolished altogether. The result was inevitable. The new students, carefully hand-picked by the administration this time in order to leave out any 'trouble-makers', have found that it is impossible for them to learn anything in the confusion prevailing on campus. The spirit of co-operation in which any film is made has vanished since every student is competing to gain entry into the next year. The faculty finds itself completely unable to meet the students' aspirations, and has taken recourse to awarding merit points to students who don't argue with them. And the students are on strike again.

The FTII's present Director has already declared his plans to alter the "structure and functioning" of the Institute, which include proposals to conduct short-term training courses and to invite commercial film-makers to shoot on campus with the assistance of FTII students. Already, among the latest schemes to be unveiled is one whereby a person who fulfils certain requirements laid down by the administration can gain admission directly into the second or third year and walk out with a diploma from the FTII, even as first year students will be given certificates and asked to look for work as assistants in the film industry.

Yes, the world is changing and the Indian government's policies are no longer what they were in the 1960s when the FTII was founded. However, the Film Institute's contribution to the nation, both past and present, cannot be ignored. If national film policy is to be altered, and the FTII needs to reinvent itself in order to survive, all those in this country who care about cinema must debate and discuss what the nature of the new FTII should be. A handful of individuals with vested interests and doubtful qualifications for the job must not be allowed to conduct experiments with an institution of such value to the nation.

Contributed by Jabeen Merchant, an alumnus of the FTII, who has specialized in film editing.