Dutch photographer Jan Banning, 71, has a new photobook out, his 16th, titled Bureaucratics Revisited.
His previous works have ranged, in theme, from war crimes, sex crimes and the aftermaths of genocide to effects of World War 2. This one picks up where his sixth book, Bureaucratics (2008; co-authored with journalist and writer Will Tinnemans), left off, capturing stirring portraits of bureaucracy in eight countries across five continents: Bolivia, China, France, India, Liberia, Russia, the US and Yemen.
The book and its sequel offer a dramatic take on government and how States present themselves to their citizens. Shot over five years, from 2003 to 2007, his subjects range from chief secretaries in ornate offices to lowly clerks with just a makeshift desk to their names.
“My experience in India is something I will never forget,” he says. Excerpts from an interview.
* Why revisit Bureaucratics today?
Civil service offices are places where the government presents itself to its citizens, using symbols and paraphernalia to showcase their power. At the same time, these offices are a kind of communal living space for those who spend a significant portion of their time there — whether working or not. This reflects in some of the personalised backdrops.
But what’s interesting is that this is also a world that no longer exists. This project and these books are now a record of a simpler world, a historical account of a time when outsiders were not viewed with as much suspicion, not even in government offices. A world in which cameras were not viewed with suspicion. This stark difference is an important one.
In most countries, we were considered completely harmless. Today, just getting the permissions in many countries would be next to impossible.
* What were some of the most surprising things you saw, as you made your way unannounced through these offices?
There were stark economic differences. In parts of Bolivia, the police didn’t even have vehicles. The homicide squad in Potosi, Bolivia, would travel to crime scenes by bus.
In some remote areas in this country, the police were also breeding rabbits and chickens to add to their food because they got paid so little.
In Liberia, there was so much poverty that sometimes there was only one chair, or officials had bought their own desks. You could see “Private Property” written on these desks.
* What countries were the hardest to secure permission in back then?
There were various levels of difficulties for each country.
China was a nightmare, and I think the reason was that people there were intent on making sure their country was presented only as they wanted it to be presented.
It also took very long to figure out how to get permission in the US, but then in the end it turned out to be very simple: Each individual civil servant is the one to give permission.
In the stunningly beautiful Yemeni capital of Sana’a, we found ourselves, four mornings in a row, stuck to leatherette cushions in the office of the PR manager at the ministry of information. The deputy minister refused to sign our travel permits. A simple display of power? Fear that we’d ridicule his country? Whatever the reason, he did eventually sign.
* What stood out for you in India?
We chose Bihar because we didn’t want to go to any country’s capital, where systems are generally more organised. We got in touch with a social scientist in Patna, through a common connection in Holland. When we reached his house, he began to draw on a blackboard in his back garden, diagrams to help us understand the Indian bureaucratic system.
After about 15 minutes, he was completely lost. He had no idea where he was or how to continue anymore! That’s what made India special; there’s utter chaos.
We eventually headed to the Old Secretariat in Patna. The front entrance was flanked by two guards, so our contact took us through the back entrance, which was unguarded. And we were in, just like that. We got permission to shoot there, and we later shot in other districts such as Jehanabad and Kishanganj too.
In one office there was a sort of typewriter graveyard. We were told that the typewriters were waiting for people. About 40% of the department’s positions were vacant.
In 2004, the photo series on the bureaucracy in India won a World Press Photo award.
* You’ve said Russia offered surprises too.
As in India, the government officials in Russia were very forthcoming, in 2004. I don’t think that would be the case now. After getting permission from the Russian government, we photographed offices in Tomsk Oblast in Siberia, in the dead of winter.
What surprised us was the extreme poverty in the villages. When we went, temperatures were at -20 degrees Celsius in Siberia. Many people had left to search for a better life in the cities, and the remaining ones sometimes used the wood from those abandoned houses for fuel. It was hard to even witness that level of poverty.
* You ended the project with China, in 2007. What was that like?
We planned to shoot in Shandong province, in their foreign ministry department. But every day, we would be taken to a director’s room. He would lecture us on how amazing the province was, and we were forced to take pictures of him so as not to seem impolite.
When we asked to take photographs of the other workers in the office, he always seemed very surprised. Then, after a while, we would be ushered into some room where the floor has just been mopped and two women were sitting at brand-new-looking laptops. The walls were empty. It felt like a set-up, but we had to photograph it.
We were there for four weeks, and couldn’t figure out a way to take pictures of the people actually working in the offices. It turned out they feared words more than cameras, so Will and I eventually divided and conquered. When he was interviewing people, the attention was on him, so I slipped out to photograph other people. That’s how we finally got our pictures.
