Directors: Danny Mitchell & Ross Domoney
Running time: 54mins
The 21st century has well and truly shown the arrogant triumphalism of The End of History for what it was. Systems designed to maximise profit above people and planet are crumbling. Ideologically unwilling and unable to respond to the crises facing late capitalism – the social devastation crippling its workforce; the disrepair of the infrastructure necessary to maintain trade; and the climate collapse caused by the fuels powering global commerce – the elites at the top of this economic order are scrambling to hold onto power, and to maintain the way of life that benefitted them by any means necessary.
The desperate flailing of these elites means that the goalposts shift, rugs are pulled, and rules are rewritten on a daily basis – almost always for the worse. A quote of undetermined source suggests that, “There are decades where nothing happens, and weeks where decades happen.” Whether it came from Lenin or not is a moot point now, because we are planted firmly in an era of endless decades.
That is something which works to the advantage and disadvantage of Threads of a Revolution, Danny Mitchell and Ross Domoney’s eye-catching documentary exploring the political project that has taken shape in the Rojava region between Syria and Türkiye. The story (which I initially interviewed the filmmakers about in 2019) follows Janet Biehl, the long-time partner and collaborator of late political theorist Murray Bookchin, as she learns firsthand how the Kurdish people based in the territory have put his theories into practice.
The horrors of the Syrian civil war, and the threat of Daesh (called ISIS in the film, though the legitimacy of their vision of an ‘Islamic State’ is fiercely disputed), provided such a convergence of crises for the ruling class in the region, that the historically oppressed Kurds were able to secure a region in the country’s north – where they could finally determine their own social and political rights. The Rojava region has been able to implement a form of direct social democracy – with rights and responsibilities built from neighbourhood councils, up – where women and men are afforded equal rights. It is a unique political model, and one which, Biehl explains, have been heavily influenced by Bookchin’s philosophy.
Life in endless weeks of decades has presented Biehl, Mitchell and Domoney with an opportunity to tell an important story, then. Travelling across the region – at no small risk, due to the military threats from Türkiye (which imposed a military occupation of the part of Rojava within its borders, and threatens to do the same further south) – they create a modern visual equivalent of Homage to Catalonia. Even amid the threat of war, we recognise what Orwell described as “a belief in the revolution and the future, a feeling of having suddenly emerged into an era of equality and freedom” – and above all, we see what it looks like when “behave as human beings and not as cogs in the capitalist machine.”
This is a marvellous insight, one which Mitchell and Domoney should be commended for their work in trying to popularise and promote. It is one which should give people cause for hope, as a reminder that there is nothing natural about the alienated and abused existence we take as normal, that the life could be more worth living even if we were to sacrifice the trinkets used to keep us in line; and that another world is possible.
Unfortunately, the turmoil of the world has not paused since the end of filming. The final edit was released in early 2024, since which the Assad regime has been ousted. It remains unclear how exactly Rojava’s autonomy will continue to be tolerated under the new regime – but the Spanish Republic, the Paris Commune and the various other gardens of resistance from human history seldom have happy endings. Going off to do your own thing, taking the resources in a region (its materials and its people) away from the control of wider economic interests is something unlikely to be tolerated for long. While I can understand a reluctance to suggest more trouble may be on the horizon to people who have already given up so much for the cause (including the families of those fighting to defend the region over the last decade), that is a reality that the film struggles to address.
It is also a fast-moving reality, which means the film has huge questions hanging over it that it is unable to address through no fault of its own. The producers could make a sequel tomorrow, and it could be ‘out of date’ with regards to the situation in Syria and Rojava by the following week. Especially thanks to the constantly evolving relationship of US foreign policy (an intervention which is also left unaddressed).
That’s the risk of prestige documentary production (particularly in the independent space): something that looks as good as Threads of a Revolution, that is edited so tightly, and relied heavily on lengthy crowd-funding processestakes a long time to complete. In that time, if your subject is especially topical, things may move on in a way that means it struggles to connect to an audience which is party to new information.
With that being said, the filmmakers manage to hedge against this to some degree, with a strong application of the personal, human story of Biehl. Speaking about Bookchin, who she describes as the love of her life, she says she has been following the thread left by his life and work ever since his passing. Through her interactions with the people of Rojava, and her experiences within the political project many of them have laid down their lives for, she broaches the idea that death is not the end.
Those who have been martyred protecting the ones they love, and the ideals they believe will bring about a better life for them, are depicted on every corner of every street. This is a reflection of the way they live on, a reminder that none of the remarkable communal politics Kurds now engage in across Rojava would have been possible without their efforts. At the same time, Biehl sees the spirit of Bookchin at every turn, constantly reflecting on how he might have felt if he saw the way his theories had been embodied in the region.
I can only hope that Biehl understands in her own lifetime the difference she has made in this process, too. She is as alive within this project as Bookchin, and engaging with this documentary will inspire new audiences with fresh ideas on re-organising our society – at a time when filling a void of ideas has never been more crucial. On the cusp a steady slide into tech-driven totalitarianism for the sake of preserving a dying system, there are alternatives, and they will live on with anyone who sees Threads of a Revolution.
In an ideal world, Rojava’s experiment in democracy will also survive to see its influence elsewhere – and thanks to filmmaking like this, it will have an influence. Filmmakers Danny Mitchell and Ross Domoney have shown courage and determination to tell this story. While they don’t get round to asking some of the harder questions a documentary on this subject probably does necessitate, they have shown a willingness to stick their own necks out in support of a political project that faces animosity from all directions.
Threads of a Revolution will premiere at The Rio Cinema, as part of The London Kurdish Film Festival. Tickets for the screening on May 2nd 2025 can be found here.