Banarsi artisans struggle amid tides of market economy
Nazir Ahmed (39) may leave Bangladesh in a lifetime but his handiwork remains the country’s unrivaled flag career in six continents.
Ahmed is the third generation of Urdu-speaking Muslims who weave Banarsi sarees – a traditional, colourful female dress in Bangladesh, India, Nepal and Sri Lanka. While this hand-made attire of Jamdani or Katan variety is an integral part of fashion-conscious women’s wardrobe, the common femalefolk wears its cheaper and more robust version.
Mirpur Banarsi saree producers proudly claim that their handiwork has been a special choice of leading icons of the Mumbai film industry, blockbuster film Devdas exhibiting a vast variety of Banarsi sarees from Mirpur.
Centuries ago, queens and princesses wore gold-embroided sarees. Every girl today expects a beautiful saree for her wedding from parents or in-laws, more the better. Locally, the Benarasi sarees are sold anywhere between Taka 20,000 to Taka 200,000.
The Banarsi saree-weaving artisans don’t originate from Bangladesh. The 1942 worst famine in the Indian sub-continent forced first migration of the Bihari Muslims to Dhaka, now capital city of Bangladesh .
Ahmed’s great grandfather Azimullah Khan came to Mirpur area with his loom and two brothers Kallu Khan and Mallu Khan. Some 40 other Bihari migrant families joined them to start a cottage industry of Banarsi sarees, already recognized as embodiment of artisanship and finesse.
Hindustan’s geography changed in 1947 and East Bengal became East Pakistan, where Muslims from adjoining Hindu majority areas migrated for equal social status and religious rights.
Since predominant majority spoke Bangla language and had its distinctive Bengali culture, Urdu-speaking migrants from Bihar became an outcaste nicknamed ‘ stranded Pakistanis’ after creation of December 16, 1971. The Bihari community remained without citizenship till 2006 amid the worst living conditions in the South Asian region by far.
The Election Commission enrolled Urdu-speaking Biharis born after 1972 as voters only after a high court verdict of May 18, 2008. But for thousands of Biharis, the right to travel abroad still remains a far cry.
Many artisans like his father Manzoor Ahmed in Mirpur were tortured during the Liberation War for allegedly siding with the Pakistani armed forces. He was forced to donate his small piece of land for a Mosque in Mirpur.
Since then, he recalls that most families have been living either in rented houses or in refugee camps ironically named ‘Non-local Relief Camp’ in Mirpur Benarosi Pally area.
Born and bred in Dhaka, Ahmed operates a factory of 30 looms but lives in a small tin-shed building, with wife Shehnaj Aktar, daughter Nehanur (7) and son Zunayed (4). Most families sleep and work on a loom inside their shabby slums along narrow, sewage-swamped streets.
Semi-literate Ahmed firmly believes learning Bangla language and education can change their God-forsaken area in the long run. Ahmed proudly says: “My children not only go to school but also fluently speak Bangla.”
Months ago, Ahmed and his fellow craftsmen faced new odds when the Bangladeshi government allowed import of Indian Banarsi and other sarees. Most looms in Bangladesh are hand-operated while the Indian weavers have long shifted to the electric ones, which can really make enormous difference for Bangladeshi saree exports which bring home foreign exchange anywhere about $1million.
“The export revenue is much higher as different agencies including Bangladesh Handloom Board also issue the Country of Origin certificates,” says Teherul Islam, a top official of Bangladesh Handloom Board.
For poverty-stricken Bangladesh, the Banarsi saree manufacturers not only bring valuable foreign exchange worth millions of dollars but also save an even bigger amount by blocking their import.
Though private banks are eager to give loans, the uneducated and insecure weavers do not avail such opportunities. Unlike neighbouring India, Banarsi saree weavers remain frozen in time with little knowledge of labour rights and appetite for better techniques.
After the Independence of Bangladesh, Ahmed says, the government had ordered to set up a special Banarsi area in Mirpur but the allotted land was never handed over to its rightful beneficiaries. Meanwhile, the number of weaver families has reached to 600 from over three dozen in 1942.
Increasing influence of middleman poses the worst challenge to Banarsi saree makers. “While he is eating up huge profits from production and ultimate sale of the produce, we the artisans remain eternal losers,” Ahmed regrets.
“For instance, a middleman buys a saree for Tk 20,000 ($283) from us but sells it Tk 40,000 ($566) or even more,” Ahmed says.
Admitting such exploitation, Teherul Islam believes, “Due to educational barrier, the weavers cannot export their own products directly.”
Meanwhile, the artisanship has also been transferred to thousands of local Bangladeshis from the outcaste Banarsi craftsmen.
“The number of the locals who learnt from the Banarsi craftsmen will not be less than 300,000, spread across the country with their own looms,” says Mohammad Hanif, former president of Bangladesh National Handloom Association.
Hanif, a resident of distant Bikrampur district who obtained weaving skills from a Banarsi family, complains: “Apathy at bureaucratic as well as policymaking level risks livelihood of a bout 10,000 to 15,000 weavers, struggling to preserve cultural heritage against all odds.”
The Bihari weavers like Ahmad are ill-prepared to compete against an aggressive and well-established Indian power loom industry across the border. The authentic Banarsi saree may not serve as a cultural bridge across the inhabited world if organizations like UNESCO continue looking the other way.
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