Naqsh Card Game, Goddess Lakshmidevi and Diwali,
The normal Indian Ganjifa game is a trick making game without trumps, in which the number of cards won and not their values count towards victory. The earliest literary evidence about the prevalence of Ganjifa Game indicates it to be a game of chance. There are verses on the cards of Ganjifa composed by Muhammed Ahli Shirazi. It is evident that the Ganjifa Cards were used for a game of gambling much patronized by Shah Ismail, the first ruler of Safavid Dynasty in Persia. In a valuable manuscript dated 1514 – 1515 A.D., the poet has written a Portion named Rubaiyat-e-Ganjifa, which contains 96 Rubai or four-liner for 96 cards which Ali Shirazi wrote in Manzuma-i-Ganjifa for each card of an eight-suited pack of Ganjifa. The suits' names in the poem are Ghulam/slave, Taj/crown, Shamsher/sword, Ashrafi/gold coin, Chang/harp, Barat/document; bill- of- exchange, Tanka/silver coin and Qomash/Cloth; bales of material.
Rectangular Naqsh
The learned man Mirza Sadeq who lived and died in India (1609 – 1651) wrote a chapter on card games in a Persian Encyclopaedia. Mirza Sadeq makes short and vague remarks on other native or foreign, four or more suited packs to be played, with or without trumps by 2 or 3 or 4 or more players.
Gambling games have been popular in India from times immemorial, first with dice and later with cards, as was demonstrated by the ladies of Humayun’s Court. In ‘Babarnama’, there is a mention of just the word "Ganjifa” but in ‘Humayunnama’ cards are said to have been used for a game played with stakes. One of the gambling games played with the cards is called Naqsh. Naqsh means design, pattern, shape, painting, map etc. There is another meaning of the word naqsh given in ‘Ghias-Ul-Luhgat’ i.e. ‘a lucky throw at dice.’ The word Naqsh with reference to the game of cards, would mean – the pattern of cards which is winning. Naqsh-e-amad is used even in modern Persian with reference to the “income from games with stakes”.
One Suit of Naqsh
The Naqsh is very much like the western Baccarat or Vingte-et-Un card games wherein the combination of cards in one’s hands must come to a total of 17 or 21 in order to win the stakes. There are also other winning combinations in Naqsh such as, pairs and triplets plus aces and so on. Pairs of the top four cards can also be the winning Naqsh. The winner of the Naqsh gets money according to the stakes from each player. The number of cards used for the Naqsh game has varied in different parts of India. Naqsh can be played with any standard Indian or European pack consisting of 96, 84, 80, 60, 48, 40 or 36 cards. In Odisha, Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh, special Naqsh packs comprising 3, 4, 5 or 8 equal series of 12 cards are used. Each series in turn consists of a Mir/King) and a Ghodi/Mare with the figure of a horseman like the conventional Vazier and ten numeral cards, all of the same colour and suit marks – normally those of the Safed/silver and Surkh/Gold suits. In Odisha, such packs are called Ekrang or Hamrang - Ham in Persian means, similar, equal and rang means colour: hence Hamrang means having a similar colour.
Box of Naqsh Cards
  The Score is calculated as follows:
  • Twelve Points for a Mir.
  • Eleven Points for a Ghodi.
  • The number cards have the points according to their values: Ten for a Ten, Nine for a Nine and so on.
There can be five to seven players for the game of Naqsh but the proper number is six. From a normal Moghul Ganjifa set of 96 cards, usually the suit of Shamsher i.e. the Swords as Suit symbols, is taken out, since the number of swords on a card can easily be mistaken, and then the game is played with 84 cards. Persons who do not own the Ganjifa cards still can play the Naqsh Game with the Standard French-suited printed pack of 52 playing cards with prior removal of four jacks. Thus the game will have 48 cards to play with.
Box of Naqsh Cards
The aim is to make Naqsh which is made with a total of seventeen or twenty-one points. For making a Naqsh of 17 points, there is no limit to the number of cards to be taken, but the Naqsh with 21 points must be declared with two cards only. These are a Mir and a Nine and another pair of a Ghodi and a Ten. This is how G. J. O’Donnell observed the game, using French suited cards, in the Purniah District of Bihar in 1877. “Nakshumar is a very simple game. The four Knaves are taken out from the pack, and then all the cards are thoroughly shuffled and placed in the centre of a circle of players. Each player takes one from the top and counts the pips. In this the King/Mir counts as Twelve, the Queen/Ghodi Eleven and the Ace as One. Whosoever in two draws gets 17 pips, or the nearest number below that number, wins the stakes, unless some of those who have drawn minor numbers wish to try their chance in a third or fourth draw. This game is almost entirely used for the gambling purposes and is much played during holidays, such as the Holi Festival in March in Rajasthan, and Madhya Pradesh”.
Pradhan and 10 -Part of a 48 pack Naqsh set, Bishnupur, West Bengal
 
Raja and 9  - Part of a 48 pack Naqsh Seth, Bishnupur, West Bengal
Hamrang or Ekrang - Painting variation of the the 60 card game. Parlakhemudi, Gajapati District, Odisha
  Naqsh pack of Bishnupur in West Bengal consists of 48 cards of four equal suits of twelve cards each with a Mir on an Elephant, called Sahib, the Wazir on Horseback, called significantly Bibi/Lady, which may point to a foreign origin for the game; and ten numerals taken from Bishnupur Moghul and Dashavatara Ganjifa cards. Size of the round cards is normally is 112 cms to 115 cms round diameter. These cards also come in rectangular shape, if required. Presently artists of Bishnupur Fauzdar families painting these cards make the same in 2.00” round diameter with nice miniature like workmanship and with the matching painted box. The Ten Numeral cards of Bishnupuri Naqsh 48 cards and their suits are:
  • Pori / Girl under tree
  • Pahalwan/ Wrestlers
  • Phul/ Lotus
  • Shankha/ Conch shells
  • Phul/Fruit or flower
  • Phul/ Rectangles
  • Dawal/ Swords
  • Phul/ Lotus
  • Phul/ Circular Flowers
  • Phul/ White round flowers
Hamrang or Ekrang - 60 card game from Parlakemundi Gajapati District, Odisha
Of all the Naqsh Cards, Bishnupur Naqsh is very much famous and sought after by playing cards collectors and playing cards museums, all over the world. Packs of cards comprising of four or more equal suits can be found in Nepal, in Japan (Kabu Karuta) in Portugal and elsewhere in Europe- (“Quittle” Cards made by Piatnik & Son, Austria for a Jewish gambling game to be played on certain feast days. Gambling games like Naqsh are played especially during the festival season Dussehra and Diwali in October or November, under the auspices of Lakshmi Devi, the goddess of good fortune. Until 45 years ago, Naqsh was very popular in most parts of India, namely, Madhya Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh, Gujarat, Rajasthan, Odisha, Bihar, Bengal and the Deccan. Naqsh was popular in Delhi till 35 years ago. Some Mathur families of Delhi, especially ladies, still are believed to play Naqsh with Ganjifa cards calling it “Ganchua”. The season of Ganchua playing in Delhi at most lasted two lunar months between September and November but the normal season was about three weeks, i. e., from Dussehra to Diwali festivals. The women observe fast on Karvachauth (the fourth day of the dark fortnight of the month Kartik of the Lunar Calendar of the Hindus) for the well-being of their husbands. On this day, lots of presents are sent by the parents to their newly married daughters. The pack of Ganchua used to be one of the presents. The women observing fast on Karvachauth played Ganchua to pass time. The Cards used for this game were those of Moghul Ganjifa, but the names used by them for all the eight suits do not conform to the usual names of Moghul Ganjifa. The whole pack is said to have eight “Tash” and not suits. Taj is called Kishmishi tash after the colors of the background of the suits Safed is called Black Tash Shamsher is called Tash with lines Ghulam is called Katha Putali /puppet Chang is called Green Tash Surkh is called Sun-faced Tash Barat is called Tash with Bricks Qimash is called Urad Ki Dal /Tash with black lentil There is no distinction or division of the Suits determining the value of the cards. All the number cards have their values in the ascending order. These cards were manufactured near Jaipur, and were available in the toy shops of Delhi. The box of cards was further packed in a bag made of cloth with gold and silver thread embroidery on it. The bag was known as “Khaliti”. The Khaliti of Ganjifa cards belonging to Mirza Ghalib, the famous poet of Delhi can be seen even today in the Ghalib Museum in Delhi. The Naqsh game was probably spread throughout South East Asia and the regions bordering the Indian Ocean by Portuguese sailors in the course of the sixteenth century and entered India at that time. Even today, 120 cards Dashavatara Ganjifa and 48 cards Naqsh Ganjifa are handmade and hand painted by a couple of Fouzdar families in Bishnupur in West Bengal with matching hand painted boxes. Indian people should have knowledge about this little known gambling game - NAQSH -played with different sets of cards for gambling, which is other than the Teen Patti or FLUX Game played with three cards to each, especially during Janmashtmi Festival, and also during many holidays.

Natural Dyeing in India, Past and Future
Natural dyeing using vegetable materials on textile fibres consists of first extracting the colouring matter from the dye material, and then creating a bond between the colouring matter and the fibre to be dyed. Textile fibres of animal origin, such as wool or silk take the colouring matter quite easily, cotton, on the other hand needs a complex series of pre-treatments before it absorbs any dye except indigo, with which it bonds naturally. The Indian genius of natural dyeing in historical times lay in their mastery of the pre-treatment of cotton, enabling the production of bright, fast, and washable fabrics which were a byword in ancient times: St Jerome, in the 4th century AD, is said to have remarked "Wisdom is as enduring as the dyes of India".
Dyeing practices vary immeasurably from region to region. It is the art of combining local dye-yielding plants with locally available adjunctive materials, plants or minerals, for mordanting (a pre-dyeing process that makes the fibre receptive to dye), or colour-fastness, or brightening, in which Indian dyeing excelled in the past, and it is this regional specificity, rather than generalised principles, that should be re-established. Such regional specificity is, incidentally, also a cornerstone of biological and cultural diversity in general. Whatever may have been its contexts in the past, today the most important ingredients for the re-establishment of natural dyeing are the ingenuity and confidence of the various practitioner communities, developed through linkages with sensitive and discerning markets, and the revival and protection of the biological resource base itself. The critical aspect in natural dyeing practice and its market linkages, is diversity: diversity of dyeing materials based on a diversity of plants in different ecosystems, locations, diversity of technique, diversity of colour palette, and this diversity must be reflected all through the marketing chain, all the way to the individual customer. After all, the present market-dominated mode of economic activity which is so damaging to our natural resource base has been around only for the last 150 years, whereas our experience in stable and sustainable economic activities meshed with nature dates back several millennia. It is excellence that must be the aim of natural dyeing, excellence made up of consistency, brightness and durability of shade. Standards of consistency which should be the goal, should not be confused with standardisation which cannot be the basis of a sustainable relation with localised resource bases. Standardisation in dyeing means producing the same colour in different and varying circumstances, which would be the death-knell of excellence in natural dyeing. Standardisation is the handmaiden of mass production, which is the daughter of mercantilism, which signifies the subjugation of important aspects - of quality, of specialisation, and of the interest of both consumer and producer - to suit the interest of 'business', of the merchant-trader. The consumer yearns for variety, the natural dyer thrives on specialisation, but specialisation which provides infinite variety is extinguished by standardisation. In the world of today, where commercialisation rules, cultivation rather than collection of dye-bearing plants should be encouraged, as well as a process of substitution of forest trees with cultivated plants initiated through localised research involving dyeing communities. Practices of cultivation, too, can benefit from reference to tradition, and enhance rather than compete with the forest, through increased intensity of cultivation, not the intensity backed with chemical agriculture, but by mimicking the natural intensity of the forest. Shiv Visvanathan quotes Edgar Anderson's description of a Guatemalan garden which was 'covered with such riotous growth, that it appeared planless...' "So successful in imitating nature are these gardens that often such native orchards have been mistaken for part of natural woodlands by European and American plant collectors", writes Visvanathan. Can such intensive cultivation become part of the common property resource of local communities, replacing the vanishing forests?
THE INDIGO STORY
Indigo is the most important of all dye-producing plants, with a dye content in the leaves far higher than any other known dye-yielding plant. "It ought to be remembered that the whole of the merchandise which is exported from the Mogul kingdom, comes from four kinds of plants - that is to say, the shrub that produces the cotton from which a large quantity of cloth, coarse and fine, is made ...The second is the plant which produces indigo ...." says Nicolas Manucci in the 17th century. The export fell in the 18th century because of competition from the colonial plantations of the West Indies, and picked up again when these switched to the more profitable coffee and sugar. In the 19th century indigo got a bad name through the East India Company's punitive taxation policies in Bengal, and their practice of advancing money to the British planters, who in turn forced the reluctant peasants to grow indigo instead of their own food crops, and to sell it to their factories at rates ruinous to the growers. These draconian practices resulted in the famous Blue mutiny, the revolt of the indigo-growing peasants supported by the Bengali middle class and a section of liberal opinion among the British. In 1895 England imported over 40,000 tonnes of indigo from India. The cultivation and trade in indigo along with the weaving, dyeing and printing of cotton cloth, was one of the chief occupations as well as exports of India in antiquity until the 19th century. Dyeing of cotton with indigo was one of the many finely developed skills and large-scale industries that had made this country rich over a period of at least two thousand years. But with the development in Europe of chemical dyes at the end of the 19th century, and their introduction into India immediately after, the natural dyeing practice was almost completely given up.
THE NGO REVIVAL
In the last thirty years, NGOs have played a major part in the revival of natural dyeing practices in India. The key figure in this process has been the late K. V. Chandramouli, acknowledged as the Bhismapitamah of modern natural dyeing, from whom most of the practicing NGOs have learnt their techniques, both of natural dyeing and of training. Chandramouli was a trained chemist recruited by Kamala Devi Chattopadhyay and converted by her to furthering the artisan cause. Chandramouli in his long career, first as a Government employee and later after he retired, learnt the arts of natural dyeing from local practitioners all over the country. He came from a family of scholars, and was able to back up his practical experience with extensive archival research. He was sent by the Government of India to teach natural dyeing in Bangladesh, and was a consultant to several state governments in India. Chandramouli's main contribution was to set up a teaching methodology by which knowledge could be successfully transmitted to artisans in a way in which they could build on and innovate on their own. Thanks to him, Aranya of Bangladesh, Aditi of Bihar, Andretta in Kulu, Dastkar Andhra and other agencies have been able to root natural dyeing back in local artisan communities, through a process which continues today after his death. NGOs generally support the practitioner communities through several years of market development and market support, usually through regular exhibitions in urban centres. What comes next? We have yet to see what happens after the NGOs withdraw. Will natural dyeing activity be able to sustain itself without them? If natural dyeing processes are to be strongly rooted in community life, the NGO must be able to write itself out of the script. There are great advantages and also severe limitations to NGO work in natural dyeing. Though today small NGOs in the sub-continent are filling a need as catalysts in the process of revival and revitalisation, a role that Government, international agencies or commercial organisations are unsuited to fill, they cannot take the revival process beyond the preservation of technique. NGO initiatives tend to link the natural dyed products directly to urban and export markets, which tend to be capricious and demanding, beyond the capabilities of rural producers to handle. The dominance today of 'the market' overwhelms village-based producers with feelings of inadequacy and ignorance. Trading connections built up organically on the other hand enable producers to negotiate markets without loss of identity and self-respect. Ultimately, village producers’ links to larger commercial processes must be based on relations of mutual respect and interdependence. There is no doubt that there are important and intermeshing roles to be played by the State, international agencies, and by NGOs. Systematic research needs to be carried out, and international agencies can play an important role for the support and nurture of emerging community initiatives, making sure that information eventually ends up in the hands of the producers. At the same time, it is important that the laboratory research is linked with field practice at an early stage, to avoid appropriation of what should be community knowledge by commercial interests. It is also critical to sort out issues of intellectual property rights, in particular to ensure that the traditional and indigenous knowledge that dyers/weavers have, is respected and protected, and its commercialisation by others is done only with the consent of these people and with appropriate sharing of benefits. Conclusion Future Prospects of Natural Dyeing in India Natural circumstances have made this country particularly suited to the practice of natural dyeing. Human agency in the recent past has not been so beneficial, with the stoppage of flowing waters, the destruction of plant life and worst of all, the poisoning of soil and water by chemical poisons. Whole populations of artisanal practitioners in interlinked occupations related to dyeing have been uprooted and their carefully nurtured knowledge lost. "But the Sun has continued to give forth to India its vast vivifying rays, the Heavens to pour down upon the vast surface its tropical rains ..." as F C Brown, a cotton planter of the nineteenth century says.
Natural dyeing is a double-edged sword. Linked to its local users it can be a powerful tool to regenerate local flora. But if it is separated from user communities through commercial intermediaries it can be an equally powerful force in the depredation of the resource base. Society's management of the natural forest deals with competing claims by the different occupations that use and protect the local soil, water, and plant growth. This relation between nature and society must be mediated not by a powerful state claiming to act in the name of an abstract entity called 'the people' but by the self-regulatory mechanisms of local self-governance. Today, can economic returns be enough of an incentive for revival? Or must dyeing processes be part of a new set of relations that evolve in contemporary circumstances, where some aspects such as the climate remain relatively unchanged, while other natural resources such as rivers and forests become extinct or inaccessible? In our opinion, economic activities should be embedded in society and in their local natural resource base, and even the process of re-rooting natural dyeing should itself be based on these fundamental principles. In this way the contemporisation of a traditional practice will help to reverse the current trend towards destructive exploitation of human and natural resources. Natural dyeing is a practice of society in tune with nature, and has to be part of a gamut of environmentally sensible economic activities, that would integrate the lives and activities of agricultural producers, pastoralists, and others dependent on natural resources, in a web of mutually supportive rather than competitive professions. The diversity inherent in nature, which allows for a vast number of combinations and permutations of the mineral content of local soils and local water with dye-bearing and adjunctive plants, is the critical factor in the establishment and sustainability of natural dyeing practices with strong local and regional identities. Sustainable linkages must evolve between the dye-materials, their cultivation or collection, and their use. This article is reproduced from the longer version in the National Biodiversity and Action Plan.

Natural Indigo/Pastel, A History
Natural Indigo has been used for dyeing textiles since prehistoric times all over the world. It is extracted from several plants depending on the climate and soil quality of the land. In the ancient time Greeks knew the indigo cake as indikom and the Romans as indicum which meant thing coming from India. They however didn’t understood that it was a vegetal substance as it was high priced and was considered like a precious stone like lapis lazuli coming from Afghanistan and was not used for dyeing textiles.
According to the French color historian Michel Pastoureau, color is a cultural fact, if there is no word to name a color it does not exist. According to him in ancient Grecia and Roman times blue color was not an appreciated color as it was the color of the peoples from the north, the barbarians. Till Marco Polo’s (13th Century) travel report, nobody understood what was this indigo made for so expensive, used as a luxurious painting pigment. Even in 17th century in France some people still misunderstood.
Another fact is before the 19th century it was unknown that the indigo from India and the one used in Europe to create blue were related, as it was impossible to think that indigo from indigofera species and from isatis tinctoria were similar since there was no science and botanic to investigate this relationship.Analysis started only in the mid 18th century. Even nowadays scientific analysis cannot distinguish in old blue textiles whether the coloring used was derived from indigofera dyestuff or isatis tinctoria dyestuff. Only indigotine and indirubine is determined by the analyses as both are present in both plants.
Analysis started only in the mid 18th century. Even nowadays scientific analysis cannot distinguish in old blue textiles whether the coloring used was derived from indigofera dyestuff or isatis tinctoria dyestuff. Only indigotine and indirubine is determined by the analyses as both are present in both plants. In Europe where the climate is a temperate, indigo plant Isatis Tinctoria, was the only source of blue color, called Pastel in French but also guede wouede depending on the region. In English it is call woad (glastum), In German faberwaid In Italian guago In Spanish glasto
It is one of over 60 species belonging to genus Isatis. It is biennial plant of the family Cruciferae. It is native to steppe and desert of Caucasse, central Asia to eastern Siberia; it is not known when it spread to north-west and southern Europe, although it had reached Britain by the Iron Age. It has been cultivated throughout Europe since ancient time. It was cultivated even in China and some writer said in Hokkaido, North Japan, were a species yezoensis grew spontaneous, but did not seem to contain the indigo compound. The first year plants alone contain the dyestuff it looks like rosettes of dandelion leaves. In early summer the second year, grow over 1 m flowering with yellow mass of tiny flowers at the head of the branch. In medieval time they were grown for seed. The seed is large and often dark. (Image museum) It grows on chalky soil which requires manure. It was possible to have 3 or 4 harvests a year of the leaves from the first year plant. It starts when the stem start to turn yellowish and the leaves violet. The first crop starts in mid June depending on the area till October.
In south of France, woad seeds dated to the Neolithic have been found in the cave of l'Audoste, Bouches du Rhone department. In the Iron Age settlement of the Heuneburg, Germany, impressions of the seeds have been found on pottery. The Hallstatt burials of Hochdorf and Hohmichele contained textiles dyed with woad. At York, England, a dye shop with remains of both woad and madder dating from the 10th century have been excavated. In Medieval times, main centres of woad cultivation lay in the Languedoc and Picardy regions of France.. In Amiens city capital of Picardy, built the cathedral with money donated by the wealthy woad traders; they are represented on bas-reliefs inside the cathedral. 100 years of war between France and England destroyed completely this industry. Languedoc county which was called ´†Pays de cocagne†ª county of indigo ball, that means a rich country. From this time several private hotels in Toulouse city were built by and for the wealthy merchants. These merchants paid France King FranÁois 1er ranÁon in 1520 when France lost Italian wars. The Erfurt area in Thuringia in Germany was the area where the citizens of the five Thuringian woad-towns of Erfurt, Gotha, Tennstedt, Arnstadt and Langensalza had their own charters. In Erfurt, the woad-traders gave the funds to found the University of Erfurt. Also in North Italy, Piedmont and Tuscany had produced isatis tinctoria as had Spain.
Extraction of Indigo General extraction is always from the green leaves; however the plant, the precursor of the indigo compound is not visible in the green leaf, without color Indican or Isatan B only.The general chemical principle is†: When fresh leaves are soaked in water, hydrolyze enzymatique takes place and in few hours the color of the water turns yellow. There is production of indoxyle + sugar. When you beat this yellow water blue compound set up†: 2 mol of indoxyle oxydize by oxygen of the air get indigotine compound non soluble in water. (It is why the indigo can be used also as painting pigment).This oxidation reaction is reversible; this is what makes it possible to use indigo as a fabric dye. In the reduction phase without oxygen, indoxyle forms also called white indigo, the fiber put in an indigo vat get out green but in a few seconds the color turns to blue, fascinating or frightful looking was some thing miraculous for people in the olden time when nobody could explain what was happening. Dyers were discriminated for their magical skills, clever they managed the process for 4000 years ago.Old method of extraction indigo from isatis tinctoria is similar to the Japanese way of composting.The fresh leaves were taken straight to a circular mill, where they were ground up by horse-driven.The woad pulp was drained and molded by hand on wooden boards into balls, the size of tennis size balls, which were laid out on racks to dry for several weeks. At this stage we call it ´†coque†ª green woad. It could be sold in this state but another second fermentation made the difference. It was done by refiners or by the production managers. It is call ´†couching†ª and is a very hard job. They had to crush the woad balls with mallets. The resulting mass spread feet deep on the ground and watered. Over 6 to 9 weeks it was necessary to add water and turn all the mass as the heath go up in the compost. Couching was complete when the mixture became dry and moldy, called ´†couched woad ´†or ´pastel †agrenat†ª. It was packed in large sacks or wooden barrels. It was good to let it mature few years to get better color. 15th and 16th century, in southwest France around Toulouse woad balls production came on the Toulouse city market and were sold to Spain, England (shipping from Bayonne, Bordeaux) till North Europe. A banking system was used for payment. In Germany it was specialists of a guild who managed the money. As the smell was quite strong in England a law was enacted forbidden to do it at a distance of 13 km of the city. The merchants were selling balls of woad all around Europe. It was a very good enterprise. When trading roads going to India changed, new roads around Africa, brought to Europe spices and indigo cake in big amount by Portuguese first at the beginning of 16th century at a cheaper price than before in a process of globalization putting in danger European woad industry. All the wealthy woad merchants of different countries in Europe asked for political protection by their government .They started a campaign about ´†´†Devil blue†ª coming from India. This new dyestuff was supposed to destroy the fabric with fastness and all kind of tricks. At the same time cotton muslin came also on the market. All the aristocratic ladies fall in love with “Indian” textiles completely new and so light to wear and with such beautiful designs. All wool and silk industries get hungry because of competition in the market. French first Prime Minister Colbert was from a wool industry family so he protected French textile industry by prohibition laws against indigo and “chintz”. It was the same all over Europe in England, and Germany made laws to forbid the use of indigo. Only in few places they got special permit to use it. And also ´†chintz†ª fabric were forbidden from sale and to production. France king Louis 15th’s favorite Mme Pompadour loved so much these “chintz”, she wore it at the court making big scandals. In 18th century situation changed because the colonial time started and scientific study about dyeing and botanic field appeared. Expanding of indigo demand, European companies started production of indigo everywhere in the world†: India, America, South America exported to Europe for textile industry which was in full development. The prohibition laws were abandoned for indigo afterwards for chintz also. Making a Woad Vat In the middle age only woad was used for making a vat. It was used mainly for dyeing wool and some silk but no cotton was on the market in Europe. From 18th century the process changed, they continue to use woad but progressively they added more indigo cake in the vat. They were starting the vat with a woad compost better for fermentation and added indigo cake when the fermentation start for 2 reasons†: 1 To get darker color by adding indigo cake 2 Indigo cakes can not ferment alone so to introduce it in a fermented vat helped the good reduction of the vat so it works very well. With the time woad became less and less important, keeping it more for fermentation process of the vat than color but it was still called “woad vat”. Another important use of those vats was to make composed colors. They were using woad vat plus a second dye bath of different color giving a better fastness. From middle 18th scientific point of view research started to control the vat and got better results. The idea of extraction of indigo compound of ´†pastel†ª, in France, came out Jean HELLOT (1750), Astruc, Dambourney (1786) try to obtain indigo pigment from woad fresh leaves. In Germany also M.GREENE tried this. But it is only in 19th century, when Napoleon economic blocs start 1810 concourse were held to find French source of indigo. M. Puymaurin in Albi succeeds to make indigo cake from woad in the region where woad was cultivated from olden time (Albi). He found a school and started to build a fabric with financial help of French government but when Napoleon was demitted all were abandoned and bank route for M Puymaurin who get the aristocratic rank ´†baron†ª. There was stop of economic blocs and the shipping routes were opened for cheaper indigo which came back stopping all researches on woad. At this time (19th century) chemical researches about indigo were numerous because of the demand of Textile industry. In 1878 German Adolf van Baeyer and his team synthesize indigo but it took 20 years more to get synthetic dyestuff on the market. In few years synthetic dye dethrone natural indigo all over the planet the production of indigo crops decreased in a few years. The production continued only in remote places From 1960 the situation started to change like the bubbles when indigo vat started. In several countries peoples with several point of views (historians, ethnologic, anthropologists, biologist, chemical, artists) started new researches about woad. In fact environment concern to stop pollutions, looking for biodegradable products, looking for durable economy put back woad on the scene. 1992 In Erfurt (which was a production area of woad in the past) was where first international conference about woad was set up, confrontation between historians, dyers, chemical researchers, etc… from several countries gave the start of revival movement. In England, In France, in Italy and Germany woad cultivations have started again from the last 10 years with national help program and a European research program SPINDIGO to bring opportunity to farmers to make on the spot a new woad –indigo with quality controls and traceability which the new computer systems have now made possible . Last year, Italian Bologna university team discovered that woad leaves contain a large amount of glucobrassucin very valuable for protection against cancer specially breast cancer. Now we can say that a new time has started with general public interest about all natural products and natural dyes, their influences on health and their eco friendly impact. What will be the future†? Now all the process of natural indigo is well controlled at every point of this long process from cultivation till dyeing, it is possible to have it in a few years a big scale facing the market at a time where polluting products will be out of the market. Bibliography:
  • The history of woad and medieval vat†ª John Edmonds – Historic dyes series N_1 – 1998 – Chiltern Open Museum – Chalfont St Giles – England
  • “Indigo”, Jenny Balfour - British Museum Press - 1998 - London
  • Le monde des teintures naturelles, Dominique Cardon, edition Belin – 2003 - Paris
  • “l’ÈpopÈe du pastel” F.Caster, edition Privat – 1998 - Toulouse “l’Art de la teinture de la laine “, Jean Hellot - 1750 - Paris
Pictures
  • Wood carving print 17th century woad plant on 2nd year grow
  • Seeds of woad from MNHN Paris collection
  • Woad mil and wood bowl to make the “coque” from Astruc, Histoire du Languedoc

New Meanings for Craft and Craft Development Organizations in India,
A recent headline in Canada's national newspaper reads: "Artisans drowning in global monoculture" (Globe and Mail, October 31, p. C16). The article focuses on the impact of Western commercial products, open markets and mass media on the decline of artisan activity worldwide. This is not news to India's artisans who are struggling for survival or who have moved away from traditional occupations. However, the loss of artisan livelihoods has become a global as well as a local issue. This is not only an economic problem. The loss of knowledge and ways of life that are part of an artisan's work and environment is eroding cultural diversity. Urmul Marusthali Bunkar Vikas Samiti (UMBVS) is one among many craft development organizations in India that are confronting the enormous challenges of establishing sustainable employment within viable craft communities. In a relatively short period of time, UMBVS has improved the social and economic status of hand weavers in Rajasthan and has contributed to the survival of traditional pit loom weaving. I had an opportunity to visit the Urmul Weavers Centre at Phalodi, Rajasthan, in November 1997. At the time I was researching community-based initiatives that support the continuity of hand weaving skills and knowledge in India. The purpose of my inquiry was to affirm the value of sustaining cultural diversity, particularly, the value of weaving as a way of knowing and weaving as a way of living in communities. While seeking information about innovative education and development projects that benefit hand weavers, I discovered that the  Urmul Weavers Society was exemplary. Ram Chandra Barupal is chief executive of UMBVS and one of  five weaver-managers responsible for running the organization. During my visit, Ram Chandra described the formation and development of UMBVS in a translated recorded interview. Beginning as an income generation project in 1987 and evolving into a successful community-based organization, the Urmul Weavers Society has helped weavers transform their circumstances and their perspectives of themselves and others. Ram Chandra said, "It is a changing, dynamic process. When  something demands that you learn, you set about learning it" (Barupal interview, 1997). Rapid social change, loss of traditional livelihoods and unprecedented environmental degradation are current global realities. More than ever, learning to learn is a key survival skill. An ability to learn to adapt, "be in transition," work together, solve problems, and innovate is increasingly important. In this paper, I draw from the example of UMBVS to explore how craft development organizations can create opportunities for artisans to learn new skills and transform their perspectives. My purpose is to show how new meanings for craft emerge through this learning process. A significant precedent in Rajasthan for emphasising learning in development was the Rural University, also known as the Jawaja Project, which began in 1975 under the inspired guidance of Ravi Matthai (Gupta, 1992; Matthai, 1985). Generating self-reliance and  mutuality was central to the deep involvement of people in development activities. The Jawaja Weavers Association emerged through a long process of learning to establish trust between outsiders and villagers and also to mobilize the resources of those who wanted to participate in the project.The Rural University emphasized people learning to help themselves and others, learning to help their community and other communities. Outside "experts" were also learning about the experiences and views of the villagers and they aimed to make themselves dispensable.
URMUL WEAVERS SOCIETY
The story of Urmul is a story of learning that has transformed the lives and perspectives of weavers in a number of villages of West Rajasthan. It is also a story of outsiders, including myself, who have participated in different ways in the learning process. The time of my visit to Urmul coincided with the semi-annual meetings held in each village to discuss whatever issues or problems of weaving production had occurred in the preceding six months. These meetings were also a time when the UMBVS managers shared information about new designs, markets, and initiatives. I was invited to attend several of these meetings. One afternoon I travelled by jeep with Ram Chandra Barupal, Revata Ram Panwai, manager of income generation projects, Bhagta Ram, weaving training master and Kunjan Singh, textile designer employed by Urmul. Kunjan spoke English and she generously translated parts of conversations and taught me about Urmul. Making a Difference The village of Karwa is sixty kilometres east from Phalodi, about an hour and a half jeep ride on narrow roads through dry land. When we arrived, the Karwa weaving manager and two elders greeted us. We were told that the meeting would be delayed until weavers working in the fields returned at the end of the day. At dusk, when only a few weavers had arrived, the meeting was postponed until much later in the evening. Ram Chandra suggested this was a good time for me to put questions to the weavers. I asked, what is different now that you are weaving for Urmul? One young man said that now he has much more respect from people in the village. He used to take construction work to earn money, but now weaving lets him earn money and feel respected at the same time. An elder expressed the satisfaction of being respected for their work, in contrast to the sense of desperation that forced them to take anything in pay. There used to be competition; if someone asked 10 rupees for a piece another would undercut him by saying his weaving was only 8 rupees. Now there is a fixed price for each piece which everyone knows. "We are a community now," he said. For the weavers of Karwa, self-respect and a sense of community are central to their transformed perspective. These qualities emerged slowly as a result of changes in their circumstances after joining UMBVS. Before UMBVS began training weavers to make new designs and establishing markets to sell their products, weavers in many villages of the region had stopped weaving. Many of them had been investing money in yarn, dyeing the yarn, weaving, and then taking their products to markets. Sometimes their work would sell, but often they lost their investment and had to take out loans from money lenders, which resulted in the loss of some of their belongings. Some weavers had arrangements with merchant- middlemen in Jodphur, Jaiselmer and Bikaner. The middlemen provided weavers with dyed yarn, but paid very low wages for the weaving while selling it at a good profit. Ram Chandra Barupal's story reveals the struggle to learn to weave at a time when many weavers had given up. Ram Chandra came from a village in Jaiselmer district where the stony rough land was not conducive to farming. He left school after ninth grade because his family was poor and he saw that he needed to earn some money. He did physical labour, including work in the salt mines. His father did not weave, but on occasion Ram Chandra tried to weave on his great uncle's loom. Then, at sixteen, he decided to learn to weave. His family did not approve because they wanted him to go back to school. Ram Chandra worked alone to figure out how to make a warp, set up the loom and weave. He persisted even though no one supported what he was doing. Weaving appealed to him and he appreciated the historical and cultural aspect, knowing his ancestors had also been weavers. He thought weaving was a better way to earn money than doing tough physical work. Gradually he earned ten to fifteen rupees for his pattus above the cost of the wool. Later he began buying wool in bulk and having other weavers make pattus which he sold at fairs and outside markets. Nobody in his village knew how to do the traditional embroidery weave. So Ram Chandra bought a woven pattu from a fair and over six months taught himself  the Bhojasari technique of inlaid weft. Gradually he became known for his unique pattus. Since he was able to weave fast and his quality was very good, he began to earn up to thirty rupees for a pattu while others earned ten to twelve rupees. However, when his family was in debt, Ram Chandra stopped weaving to earn more money. He took out a loan to buy seed to sell. He sold food at hotels and at fairs. He bought sheep and goats, reared them, and took them to sell in big markets in Delhi. He invested in a fodder machine and made fodder for cattle. But he didn't make a profit from any of this work. When the Government of India sponsored a famine relief effort in the nearby Bikaner district in 1987, Ram Chandra went to work there on a watershed management project, building a small dam. Whenever he earned some money he returned to his village and his loom to weave.
Organizing the Weavers and Forming a Society
Leaders from the Urmul Trust, an autonomous organization based in Lunkaransar in the Bikaner district, had an important role in the foundation of UMBVS. They prepared the ground for weavers to participate in their own economic and social development. Sanjay Ghose and Tarun Salwar saw the potential for a good income generation project in the weaving of pattus using the traditional Bhojasari and Mhulani embroidery styles of the region. In 1987, they began looking for weavers who were able to do this technique. At an annual fair near Pokhran they met weavers who introduced them to other weavers who knew the traditional embroidery styles. When people from the Urmul Trust met Ram Chandra Barupal and saw him weave, they asked him to come and work for them in Lunkaransar. They offered him a stipend of 450 rupees per month to learn new designs and train other weavers. At the time, Ram Chandra was earning more than 800 rupees by sitting at his loom. He told them, "I'll learn here. I've learned myself. Give me a new design and I'll figure it out myself." When the Urmul Trust persisted in asking him to train local weavers in Lunkaransar, Ram Chandra said, "No," because there were weavers in his village that he wanted to train first. He said that after teaching them for one year to weave and do the embroidery styles, then he would be ready to train other weavers. Ram Chandra was one of five weavers that the Urmul Trust brought together from Jodhpur, Jaiselmer and halodi districts to live in Lunkaransar and learn aboutcreating and running an organization. The weavers learned the basics of marketing, accounting and shop keeping. They learned yarn dyeing and techniques for weaving new embroidery style designs and products designed by a student from the National Institute of Design. Dastkar, an NGO that helps bridge the gap between rural artisans and the urban consumers, helped with marketing advice and support. In the first year, fifty local weavers were trained. The Urmul Trust supplied village weavers with wool and paid them on a piece rate basis for everything they produced. Dastkar helped the Urmul Trust by arranging exhibitions and selling the woven products at city bazaars. However, few weavers in the villages were clearly informed about the Urmul Trust. They thought it was a rich international organization and they wanted to earn as much money as possible. The weavers produced in quantity, but their quality suffered and the Urmul Trust accumulated a large amount of poorly made unsold products. The Urmul Trust called a meeting of weavers and Sanjay Ghose explained Urmul's objectives, saying, "You are poor people who have been taken advantage of. We want to organize you into a group that one day will stand on it's own" (Barupal interview, 1997). Product-related marketing problems had to be faced. Pattu weaving was traditionally done in wool, but the market for new woollen products such as cushion covers was seasonal. And people living in the cities of South India did not want wool furnishings because even the winter months are not cold. With product and marketing advice from Dastkar, the decision was made to weave with cotton in order to reach a broader market and provide a steady income to weavers throughout the year. Problems with the yarn dyeing also diminished the popularity of products. Sales stagnated until several weavers were trained at Lunkaransar in the use of new chemical dyes and the quality of yarn colours improved. Products started to do better in the market but there was still trouble with quality and with sending products on time. Urmul Trust could no longer accept poor quality work. Sanjay Ghose and Tarun Salwar went from village to village, explaining to weavers that Urmul Trust was a large institution with health and education programs and it was not imperative for them to support the weavers. They shut down the weaving production for two months to emphasize the need to increase the quality of finished work and stop dependence on the Urmul Trust. Only the very good weavers and the trainers continued weaving during that time. In 1989, a meeting was called at Phalodi to discuss the formation of a weavers' organization separate from the Urmul Trust. Subsequently, meetings were held in the villages to encourage weavers to become active in developing the organization. To instill a sense of ownership for the society, each weaver was asked to contribute 1000 rupees as capital; profits and losses would be shared by each member. According to Sanjay Ghose, UMBVS "was borne out of a sense of desperation. They had to do something to get work otherwise they would have been reduced to absolute penury" (Ghose, 1992). UMBVS was registered formally and an elected executive committee was comprised of the five weavers who had been working at Lunkaransar. These leaders went back to Lunkaransar to learn more about running an organization. Each according to their interests, they learned about stock keeping, accounting, and marketing. Soon the UMBVS leaders wanted to leave Lunkaransar and set up their organization in Phalodi, a central location for the weaving villages of Jodhpur, Jaiselmer and Bikaner districts. Sanjay Ghose and TarunSalwar were keen for the weavers to go on their own, but others at Urmul Trust did not support the idea. Instead of waiting and possibly not having any support for the idea later, the UMBVS leaders decided to leave for Phalodi. It turned out that half the weavers wanted to work in Phalodi and the other half wanted to stay in Lunkaransar. Some weavers mistrusted the leaders. They believed the leaders would exploit them, earn all the money, and do nothing for them. To settle the dispute, a compromise was reached and Urmul Trust sent four people to Phalodi to work there, including a manager, a designer, and an accountant. The UMBVS leaders soon realized that the managerial staff sent from Urmul Trust had high expenses on marketing trips. The Urmul staff stayed in hotels that suited their higher social background. When costs were totalled the leaders realized how much profit was needed just to cover these expenses. They decided to manage without the staff from Urmul. However, some weavers opposed this idea, continuing to mistrust the leaders and believing that the presence of the Urmul Trust staff members ensured fairness. Differences in perspective and learning across these differences was integral to the formation of UMBVS. Despite the resistance of some weavers in the villages, the leaders persisted. They wanted the freedom to run the organization themselves. They knew they were being blamed for losses that were due to a management problem. So they sent the staff from Urmul Trust back to Lunkaransar. Then the leaders were very strict about their own expenditures because they wanted to prove UMBVS could make a profit. They lived spartanly; they took buses, never taxis, and slept outside in inexpensive tariff hostels. By the end of the first year in Phalodi, UMBVS made a profit. After covering the Urmul Trust losses of the previous year, the organization was able to distribute a bonus to the weavers. When they received a bonus for the first time, the weavers finally believed in UMBVS and saw that the leaders could manage the organization on their own. Living and working in a rented house in Phalodi, the weaver-managers were discriminated against because of caste. UMBVS needed their own building, especially for training more weavers. A meeting was called and the weavers decided to contribute to the purchase of land. UMBVS also applied for and received international funding from Action Aid and Save the Children's Fund. In 1994, the construction of Urmul Phalodi Weavers Centre was completed. UMBVS began to train more weavers by providing a three month training session at the Weavers Centre. Since 1997, women who want to join UMBVS and learn to weave have taken part in a women's weaving training programme. Challenges and Changes Since its inception, the vision of UMBVS has been "To establish a society free of inequalities and oppression." Their mission is "To organize the target group and help them to actively participate in all aspects of their development by making them more aware of their rights; to keep traditional craft alive by upgrading their skills." The goals are to free weavers from exploitation by traders and middlemen, provide alternative marketing support and regular remunerative employment, and to bring about social and economic development, including the preservation of art and culture in a professionally managed environment (UMBVS unpublished report, 1997). In pursuit of these aims village weavers, UMBVS managers, and outside experts have encountered many challenges, and learning experiences have transformed perspectives of individuals and communities. According to Ram Chandra Barupal, the most important achievement of UMBVS has been to help weavers break out of the constraints of the caste system. Weavers belong to the poorest sub- section of the villages, primarily backward castes of the Meghwal community. As they have become united and formed a strong identity, they have been able to fight caste oppression. Over time, there has been a significant psychological change, a feeling of relief and self-respect. Ram Chandra said, "It is a change to your psyche that you are not looked down upon so much anymore. It is no longer  only the higher castes that are worthy" (Barupal interview, 1997). In addition, UMBVS has helped weavers' break the constraints of poverty. As members of UMBVS, weavers are paid at the end of each month by a production manager who picks up finished work and pays on a piece rate basis according to the size and detail of each design. Earlier, weavers worked for the well-off higher caste people. They took loans from them, and were indebted to them. Now, very few weavers are in debt, but if needed they can take out a loan from the society. Women also can have savings and get loans. By earning a decent living through weaving, the weavers' social and economic status in the villages has improved. They are viewed differently by other villagers and their voices are heard more often. UMBVS sells their woven products to stores in major Indian cities and also for export. However, marketing continues to present major challenges. UMBVS must continue to make high quality products, adapt materials and colours to market demands, and fill orders on time. The organization has established reliable contacts but still needs to maintain, assess, and expand marketing contacts. To meet the demands of the export markets UMBVS has to be very specialized and meet deadlines. At the same time, they take into account that weavers are farming during the four months of agricultural season. In 1997, the Urmul managers tackled the legalities and paperwork for government permission to receive international funds directly rather than indirectly through other organizations. They also learned about forming a company and getting an export license in order to bypass the middlemen in international sales. An enormous commitment of time and energy is required in the operation of UMBVS to bring the benefits of the organization to as many people in the villages as possible. The vision and determination of the UMBVS managers has been vital to the growth of the organization. By listening to the needs and concerns of villagers, UMBVS has helped weavers feel that it is their organization and their wishes being carried out. However, the UMBVS leaders are continually trying to involve more weavers in the community development process. Some weavers were initially more concerned about their own welfare. Competition and suspicion made it difficult to establish trust and cooperation. However, discussions at annual meetings, awareness camps and exposure visits have helped villagers see different points of view. When UMBVS was formally registered in January 1991, there were seventy weavers from six villages. In 1997, membership had grown to one hundred and fifty weavers from thirteen villages in three districts of West Rajasthan. Weaving is the central activity of the organization but other activities include a Women's Development Programme, an Integrated Rural Development Programme, and the implementation of an extensive education programme in conjunction with the Rajasthan Government. The scope of UMBVS continues to expand and people from more villages want to become members of the weavers' society. However, UMBVS managers do not want the organization to become too big and they train only five new weavers a year. UMBVS has already become so big that there is too much work for everyone to do, especially the managers and staff. Along with success have come problems of high work-load and poor communication within the  rganization. For example, Ram Chandra is often away on business and he is less available for staff to ask questions and consult with. UMBVS has a dedicated team of workers and strong organization of weavers at the village level. However, they recognize a need to spend more time in the villages and to establish a communication team within the organization. There is also the question of how to bring other people into leadership roles and share the knowledge and responsibility for running the organization. In the beginning, the concerns of UMBVS were to organize the weavers to become involved in their own economic and social development. They trained weavers and learned about new designs, products, and access to markets. Although this task continues to be central, the growth of UMBVS has brought new challenges, in particular, learning about organizational development. For three months in 1997, Ram Chandra attended a leadership development training session on the management ofnon-profit organizations. Subsequently, UMBVS held a four day staff workshop to examine where they were going as an organization. They worked with a list of needs that had been produced by members of the Gram VikasSamitis in each of the thirteen villages where Urmul has development programmes. They discussed and clarified the vision and mission of UMBVS. And they examined the strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats faced by the organization. Using the list of needs recorded in the villages, and keeping in mind the organization's vision and mission, the staff created a plan for development activities during the following three years. They evaluated existing programmes and decided to eliminate those which no longer fit with their mission. And they planned new programmes to tackle the compelling problems that had been raised by the villagers. After the workshop, a document was produced as a record of their exploration and planning. The process by which staff examined the UMBVS vision, mission, goals and strategies demonstrates one of the many  strengths identified in their organizational analysis--UMBVS is a learning organization. This approach is also reflected in their efforts to create a community of craftspeople who are aware of their rights and participate  their own development. The ongoing development of a learning organization, however, involves "embedding learning within the actual work processes, at individual, team and organizational/strategic levels....The ultimate goal is organizational transformation through a learning agenda" (Laiken, 1997, p. 3). Strengthening Craft Development Organizations How can a craft organization be strengthened by paying more attention to the learning dimensions of its activities? How can a craft organization become a reflective organization—learning while doing? Following are eight characteristics described in the IUCN/IDRC Tools and Training Series on Reflective Institutions (Dudley & Imbach, 1997):
  1. Acknowledges uncertainties and ignorance and draws from experience of all articipants to increase understanding and effectiveness of the organization;
  1. Examines assumptions behind plans of action and develops knowledge that informs the next course of action;
  1. Creates climates for constructive exchange of views and experiences thereby fostering interdisciplinary and holistic perspectives;
  1. Combines macro and micro perspectives--integrating an overview of complex systems with awareness of local issues and requirements for action;
  1. Describes, documents and continually revises an explicit framework for action that includes, (a) understanding what we think is happening, (b) vision of how we think the world should be, (c) ideas for action, and (d) lessons  we learned from past experience;
  1. Encourages all beneficiaries and participants to take control in defining and irecting their own projects thereby motivating communication and exchange of information based on local knowledge and analysis;
  1. Identifies and learns from mistakes to gain insight into how failures inform the reflective learning process and generate more appropriate paths of action; and,
  1. Creates and maintains times and spaces for reflection to facilitate the process of organizational learning--designating an individual or team to be responsible for this process. There are implications of embracing these guidelines of reflection and action. The learning dimensions of activities become explicit when attention is given to who is learning what, what helps or hinders learning, and what are the consequences of learning. More inclusive perspectives can arise when assumptions about learning, education and development are examined. For example, reflective and participatory learning processes go beyond skills training. Second, when local knowledge is validated through the contribution and sharing of participants' experiences, self-reliance and mutuality develops. People with different backgrounds, assumptions, expectations, values and intentions come together in creating a viable craft organization. Learning to value and respect differences in perspective is vital to learning to work together. When people feel secure enough to trust each other, they can take the risk of trying out new approaches, attitudes and points of view. A third implication of becoming a reflective organization is that the monitoring and evaluation of activities can "permeate the structure, philosophy and practices of the institution" (Dudley & Imbach, 1997, p. 2.). The action-reflection cycle (plan, implement, monitor, evaluate) provides a framework for evaluation. After planned actions are implemented, reflection serves to analyze the action, review the knowledge gained, and reexamine assumptions. This is the basis for ongoing assessment of what is working, what's not, what desirable results have occurred, what actions have or have not been effective. The larger purpose for strengthening craft organizations as reflective organizations is to increase their capacity to discover appropriate and effective ways to make craft economically viable within an increasingly technological and industrialized environment. The task is not only to contribute to the economic security of artisans but also to ensure a continued connection with the cultural knowledge that gives their work vitality and inspiration. It is vital to explore pathways for creating sustainable communities and livelihoods. This is especially true in the context of economic and cultural globalization, accompanied by increasing environmental destruction and social upheaval. Reflective craft organizations have a purpose within the global transition to a sustainable, just and peaceful future. They have a significant role in preserving cultural diversity through encouraging reflective and participatory processes that help artisans adapt to and find meaning in their changing environments and circumstances.
Creating New Meanings for Craft Meanings are never static. Meanings arise and change in particular contexts as individuals and communities ascribe value to their experiences. Sacred and secular have long been interwoven in the fabric of daily lives, and the world of the artisan's work is imbued with meaning. Technical inventions in weaving and other crafts are often recognized. What is less evident is the imaginative activity of the craftsperson inspired by familiarity with ways of making things with particular materials. MirceaEliade (1978) writes, "The imagination discovers unsuspected analogies among different levels of the real; tools and objects are laden with countless symbolisms, the world of work--the micro universe that absorbs the artisan's attention for long hours--becomes a mysterious and sacred centre, rich in meanings" (pp. 34-35). What will it mean to learn to weave in India at the dawn of a new millennium? Will weavers be valued and respected, or consigned to poverty and a struggle for survival? Will weaving mean learning how to continue living in a particular landscape and community while creating knowledge that is urgently needed during a time of Global ecological crisis? New meanings for craft emerge when: (a) the craftsperson is valued; (b) economic survival of the craftsperson is ensured; (c) knowledge and skills of the craftsperson are valued, utilized and extended; (d) opportunities are provided for learning from others' different points of view; (e) respect, trust and mutuality replace competition, self-interest and suspicion. Craft organizations have a critical role to play in developing new products and markets for artisans' work. They also have a role in creating conditions for learning through enabling a flow of information, ideas and concerns between leaders and craftspeople. Craft organizations can foster ongoing questioning, reflection, analysis and evaluation of actions. New leaders and innovators can emerge when people are given opportunities to learn about learning, managing, designing and problem solving. By keeping written records of individual and collective learning processes craft organizations can document their development and provide a record for others to learn from their example. For those of us interested in craft development, it is important to know the stories of learning taking place in the lives of individuals, communities and organizations. These stories contain information and insight into the dynamic processes  of learning that underlie efforts to improve the well-being of artisans and their communities. Stories of learning also reveal the obstacles inherent in the changing of attitudes, values and actions. However, stories of learning are not frequently documented. Experiences of participants in craft organizations usually are not explicitly analyzed and recorded. Craft organizations will benefit from documenting and communicating their stories. The sharing of stories can lead to greater understanding of the challenges and insights that emerge in the work of craft development. UMBVS evolved into a thriving community organization by building upon traditional craft knowledge in West Rajasthan and establishing markets for hand woven products. They continue to address the needs of weavers and help to create conditions for sustainable social and economic development. The story of Urmul sheds light on the dynamics of learning that transforms perspectives of craftspeople and shapes the creation of new meanings for craft. By emphasizing learning while doing, craft organizations can foster participation and ongoing processes of reflection, action and evaluation. Craft is rich in experience and meaning embedded in traditional and changing ways of life. Craft organizations can continue to open doors of possibilities for craftspeople to adapt to challenges and take part in shaping their lives, their communities and their future. New meanings for craft are linked with questions of survival. And questions of survival are being confronted simultaneously on every scale, from individual and community to cultural and global. In this context, the emergence of new meanings for craft has significance within the global search for sustainable livelihoods and communities. New meanings for craft extend beyond the personal and local to shape understandings across regions and nations. References Barupal, Ram Chandra. Interview by C. Jongeward, translation by Ardash Kumar, tape recording. November, 16, 1997. Phalodi, Rajasthan. Dudley, E. and  Imbach, A. (1997)  Reflective Institutions. In IUCN/IDRC International Assessment Team, An Approach to Assessing Progress Toward Sustainability - Tools and Training Series. Cambridge, UK: IUCN. Eliade, M. (1978). History of Religious  Ideas, Volume 1. Chicago, ILL: University of Chicago Press. Ghose, S. (1992). The Urmul  Experiment. In Report of the National Meet of the Crafts Council  of India. New Delhi. Gupta, R. (1992). The Learning from  Jawaja. In Report of  the National Meet of the Crafts Council of India. New Delhi. Laiken, M. (1997). Models of Organizational Learning. In Conference Proceedings, Canadian  Association for the Study of Adult Education. St. John's, Newfoundland. Matthai, R. (1985). The Rural University: The Jawaja Experiment in Educational Innovation.Bombay, India: Popular Prakashan. Satyanand, K. and Singh, S. 1995. India's Artisans: A Status Report. New Delhi: Society for Rural, Urban and Tribal Initiatives (SRUTI). Singh, Kunjan. Interview by C. Jongeward, tape recording. November, 8, 1997. Phalodi, Rajasthan. Stackhouse, J. (1998, October 31). Artisans Drowning in Global Monoculture. The Globe and Mail, p. C16. Urmul Marusthali Bunkar Vikas Samiti1997. Unpublished report, photocopy. Phalodi, India. This article was published in Maker and Meaning: Craft and Society, Proceedings of the Seminar January 1999, Tamil Nadu, India, by Madras Craft Foundation. Paper presented at the conference in Chennai, India, "Maker and Meaning: Craft and Society," January 26-28, 1999 Financial assistance was provided by the International Development Research Centre, Canada, and the Madras Craft Foundation, India. The paper is based on research in India supported by a fellowship from the Shastri Indo- Canadian Institute in 1997.

New Paths,

Seminar is an old and respected journal that focuses on a single subject every month and seeks a variety of perspectives on it from various persons known to have worked in the field. In 2003 it dedicated one issue to crafts. My contribution dwelled on the search and sometimes the successful discovery of new avenues of the development of crafts in India. This article was reprinted in A Podium on the Pavement, New Delhi: USBPD, 2004

The deeply entrenched caste system has been the one major factor responsible for the traditional skills of handicrafts and hand weaving. The history and the development or decline of various crafts is like a rich palimpsest in which the folk, the formal, the courtly and the tribal, each has its own unique paths. Yet, these may have met, woven together, separated, transformed and flourished, depending on the multitude of inputs that exist in a multilayered society. If we look at the craft scene in the rest of the world today, we see that in the former Soviet Union the pattern of state socialism practically decimated the common artisan. In the present milieu of Russia it is almost impossible to find the cobbler, the carpenter, the weaver, the potter of yore. In Japan there is still a strong conservative and cultural streak running through the veins of its people. Thus their best craftsmen are termed national treasures, and sections of their traditional crafts have protection for the sake of preservation. However, some, like the bamboo crafts sold in Japanese shops, are now more likely to have been made in factories in China. The craft manufacture of China is now carried out under fairly well organized work shed conditions run by private entrepreneurs. Mechanised processes often replace tedious replication of handwork and the various components are put together by workers who are not traditional craftspeople as we define them in India. China has provided considerable mechanized inputs into its ceramics, bamboo, carpets and embroidered silk items but they sell as crafts and do provide employment to a large number of people who work in shifts in factories. South Korea manufactures 'Asian' crafts that can be found in any Chinatown bazaar. Thailand has tuned its crafts to a height degree of excellence mainly for tourists. These are made in rural areas but are not necessarily a part of the everyday lives of the rural people who have taken to synthetics and other expressions o modernity for their own use Many products like silk, basketry, silverware, lacquer and papier mache work are therefore showcased and packaged to demonstrate the cultural output of Thailand to outsiders. The textiles are still holding out as garments worn by various communities in rural areas but these are converted into contemporary products like home furnishings and modern fashion wear for city markets. The Philippines has baskets, brooms and fans for the common folk, while the lacquer wok of Myanmar has lost its elegance under military rule. South American countries have retained their crafts wherever peasant societies are still a large part of the population. Roadside marketplaces reflect the vibrancy of the textiles and pottery produces by artisans in these areas. In countries in Africa, there are vast differences in the availability and development of crafts. For instance, Zimbabwe has roadside markets as well as developed range of quality products for the tourist community. South Africa is still searching for ways and means to give and impetus to its craft sector for the sake of employment. Many other African countries are suffering in the throes of drought, conflict and modernization and do not have the required stability to develop what is till largely viewed as a soft sector. In Europe and other Western countries crafts flourished when they were still peasant-dominated societies. But with industrialization the impetus for development came from the mills of Lancaster rater than from the looms of Bengal and from conglomerates rather than communities. Standardisation and mechanization not only dictated the pattern of supply and demand but also swamped the markets of those societies that neither could, not would, nor even should adopt the very same pattern of growth. Highly industrialized countries like Japan, Sweden, the USA and Australia have replaced their traditional craftsperson with the practitioners of studio crafts, which are highly individualistic and generally avant garde and decorative in nature. Those who were blacksmiths or potters or carpenters are now elevated to the designer category, creating undeniably attractive work called one off pieces, generally very expensive and almost always through exhibition-like displays. A few small oases of common people's crafts in some of these countries are worth mentioning because they demonstrate the artistic spirit of those inclined towards crafts as part of a community activity. Crafts marketplaces in some of these countries are lively spots: earthy, friendly and colourful. In Melbourne, Australia, there is a lively and large crafts market called the Cat's Tango Market, which is allowed to spread itself in the piazza, courtesy a clutch of high-rise corporate offices that do not mind promoting crafts on Sundays. Craftspeople from suburban and rural areas come with their children and packed lunches, musicians entertain, clowns and magicians perform and a good time is had by al. Ceramics, paintings, glass work, dried flowers, costume jewellery and hundreds of knick-knacks of various types are fashioned and sold to delighted citizens of Melbourne and a smattering of tourists. Most of the participants are there for the sheer joy of creativity and salesmanship and the fun of engaging in such a lively venture. Crafts markets in Boston and London's Covent Garden offer stalls to many local craftspeople, providing a welcome break form standardized products and brand names that are larger than life. Custom-made buttons, glassware, hand-knitted garments, pottery and leather picture frames have the special individual look that make crafts special in a homogenized world. All these craft spaces are, of course, not part of any central economic planning or economic nee. They are merely well organised, fun places where the artistic urges can be fulfilled in an otherwise highly mechanized society. Even in areas where local arts are indigenous, ethnic products as is the aboriginal art of Australia are not found so much in the inexpensive marketplaces where goods for everyday living are picked up, but elegantly showcased by 'white people' in art galleries and boutiques. Indian craftsmanship has been a way of life for centuries. In each era most crafts have survived by going under the radar and carrying on for the local population, unnoticed, or by suitably adapting to the times. The craft trade was globalised long back through the Spice Route, the Silk Route, and during such periods as when France fell under the spell of the Kashmiri shawl. Region-specific crafts such as woven and printed textiles, embroideries, and jewellery have gone to all parts of the world through enterprising traders and courtly interventions. For far too long we have held seminars on the credit, marketing and raw material needs of craftspeople, mouthed the same words and looked for all the solutions from within the ubiquitous mai-baap, the government. In a democratic socialist pattern of policy-making in independent India's formative years, this was perfectly understandable. But it took a while for people to realize that government support within what was actually a capitalist environment meant that any commercial activity run by government institutions was largely inefficient. Indian craftspeople depended entirely on government during this phase and despite red tape and straitjacket policies they received some of the oxygen required to resuscitate them and find openings through central and state emporia to demonstrate their continued existence. However, the basic needs of many remained unfulfilled and they still depended on a variety of intermediaries. The 'Gurjari' experience of the eighties was and important one. As a person closely involved I can say through hands-on knowledge that the determined effort of this organization owned by the Government of Gujarat to fulfill its social purpose distinguished it form the others. Instead of just buying whatever was made in the bazaar, or was being sold under distress conditions from drought stricken rural areas, the Gujarat State Handicrafts and Handlooms Development Corporation made it a point to address the potential and problems of each craftsperson and community individually. It was and unwritten rule that no person would be turned back because his or her wares were not good enough or were not selling. It was the duty of the salespersons, designers, shop managers and myself as the design and marketing consultant to see that each product was improved and made saleable. A systematic method of ordering goods, clearance of accumulated stock, exciting sales promotion ideas, customer feedback, sales incentives for the staff, were all brought into the management of handicraft sales. This was before the days of management jargon and marketing gurus. For the first time, a methodology for selling crafts commercially with high turnovers, exports and profits was inculcated into a government organisation, transforming it form a stagnant and dust-ridden place into a leader of fashion and lifestyles much before the glossy pages took over these phrases. In those days Gurjari became the buzzword for college fashion and people began to 'think ethnic' in home décor, thanks to the variety of furnishing fabrics, furniture and decorative items that were developed. Since so many customers came into the shop asking, 'what's new at Gurjari?' we began a series of exhibitions every time new products or designs were introduced. Many new branches opened, sales figures went up appreciatively and many other lifeless emporia realized they had and act to follow. Unfortunately, most of these normally lethargic organizations were manned with people who looked at craft-related jobs as a punishment posting. Most thought it was much easier to allocate sections of the shop to different private parties who would be responsible for sales and required to hand over thirty per cent of the sales to the state host. This could never ensure that the artisan was getting the right wage. Many managers thought that if Gujarati tie-dyed fabrics or Orissa silver filigree work was selling well it was fine to sell these in the Himachal Pradesh or Bihar shop. The identification of a particular state with its crafts and the integrated cultural ambience of the state soon blurred and most of the state emporia in the 21st century became sellers of second grade products within a stultified government milieu. This was not a singular disaster. Over the years many 'entrepreneurs' had started their own boutiques and new design efforts with the material found in the emporia and created a range of innovative ideas on their own. Government had been able to demonstrate the value and potential for these products, and if it was time for these bodies to wither away into secondary place, so be it-as long as the artisan had received recognition, confidence and a whole new clientele. The interest in crafts shown by the private sector grew at this point of time and the proliferation of boutiques improved the product, presentation and designs. Once artisans had a quality input and better returns, the product created by the community improve because of competition. The arrival of the dreaded globalization in 1992, despite many political parties, trade unions and organisations opposing it, had many genuinely worried. Indian markets would once again be flooded by cheap foreign stuff. We would not be able to compete fairly since craftspeople were illiterate and poor. The middlemen and big fish alone would savour the fruits of global marketing. Handloom weavers would be further impoverished once the protective quotas were phased out. These were some of the arguments voiced by those who were genuinely concerned about craftspeople and the future of Indian crafts. We had voiced concerns and raised problems which the government was expected to solve without remembering that crafts had flourished at various times without government neglect or by design, as when India was under colonial rule. Even in this period if only and entrepreneur could sniff and opportunity and craftspeople deliver craft skills could survive and improve. Characteristics that were seen as weaknesses in the craft sector, such as lack of standardization, inability to provide large quantities of any one given item, inexpensive and sometimes earthy packaging methods, suddenly began to appear as areas of strength in a world where everything else was standard and synthetic. For, along with globalisaion came the growing awareness of eco-friendly lifestyles, organic products and vegetable dye fabrics, the incredible potential of embroideries and jute ware, and the use of silk floss, banana fibre and other such exotic materials to produce handmade paper. The reinvention, repackaging and rebirth of ahimsa products like khadi, which has a special appeal in a world resounding with nuclear tests and terrorism, offer fresh opportunities to India to provide handmade products from a vast resource base that exists nowhere else in the world. Khadi and village industries are often left out of the discourse held with craftspeople. Recently this resource has been upgraded, showcased in a new manner and made contemporary. Ideologically, ecologically and for the sustenance o livelihoods, agarbatti, soap, khadi ready-made, honey and handmade paper can and should flood local and export markets if people with commitment handle the project. These are items not easily available anywhere in the world in the variety and range that we can offer from India. Government is slowly but surely identifying area in which it can infuse the kind of inputs that are impossible to handle by private entrepreneurs or craftspeople, such as generic protection of certain crafts and textiles through appropriate legislation. Bagru and sanganer prints, Kanchipuram saris, Kolhapuri chappals, dhokra metalware, Warli and Mithila paintings, all these and more urgently need generic patenting so that imitation by interlopers from other areas and sectors is discouraged. Legislative measures are the furthest from the mind of craftspeople but when they hear abut these possibilities they react very positively. Government also has to learn to readjust its funds so that basic needs in the area of infrastructure are provided. Marketing must be made easier for artisans, private bodies, non-governmental development organisations and associations of manufacturers in the larger sectors such as carpets and brassware. Of course, all this is to be seen in the context of the larger picture of globalization in which the smart and the sturdy survive while many thousands remain, as usual, below the radar until someone finds them and infuses them with badly needed support. Somewhere along the way, it has become necessary to stop bewailing the fate of unorganized artisans who have no voice or effective lobbies in the way that big industries have, and assess their strengths instead. Equally underestimated is the ability of some of the enlightened craftspeople to seize the new opportunities of global interaction to widen their own knowledge, technologies and abilities. Initially e-commerce seemed like something that would forever remain alien to the artisan, but he soon realized that he could obtain an e-mail address and communicate with clients anywhere in the world without having to step out, catch a bus and travel to the nearest post office. There are artisans in Andhra Pradesh, Rajasthan and Gujarat, and probably elsewhere too, who have registered domain names. An artisan family in the earthquake-hit areas of Kutch in Gujarat has plans to e-mail its samples of printed cloth to clients, museums and researchers. It was only a mere 20 years ago that they got and electric connection to their home and were able to construct a toilet for visitors who could not be asked to go and squat in the nearby fields. In the midst of all the ruble of the earthquake of early 2001, they were more concerned about getting on with their work with a visiting client than rebuilding their home. Today they are reconstructing their lives with plans to erect and effluent treatment plant, work sheds, a school, a shop, a community centre and a plantation of indigo for vegetable dyes for two hundred families. Minor sustenance, basic supplies of electricity and water and pipelines for the water supply will bring about a township far better than what they had before the earthquake. This will help the preservation, survival and development of the most beautiful hand printed fabrics make in the world. This kind of enterprise does not fit in with the standard patronizing poster picture of the traditional artisan in his mud hut, paining with a twig, or weaving with sweat falling off his brow. Perhaps it is the beholder who has to readjust his sights to the change that takes place when a craftsperson is given the dignity and the markets that he deserves. Many skilled craftspeople now have exhibitions at prestigious art galleries and at the India Habitat centre in New Delhi, rubbing shoulders with contemporary and studio artists. When a few learn the ropes the entire community shares the knowledge and the work is elevated in the eyes of the public. Craftspeople need no longer listen to patronizing promoters who feel they can be best showcased in the old mud hut for a rural ambience but care has to be taken not t distance them form the mass of people in the interest of serving on elitist tastes. Dilli Haat, the marketplace that came up in New Delhi in the mid-90s, was an attempt by this writer to do many things at once. It drew from the traditional haat system of India's shanty marketplaces and upgraded it within an urban environment. It had to be simple, unpretentious, integrated and comfortable for the artisan who came from the village as producer ad salesman, and to learn about the needs of the urban customer. the strength of variety was embodied in the policy of rotating craftspeople every fortnight so that a sprawling complex of landscaping, cafes for regional food, entertainment area and two hundred stalls could be used by thousands of craftspeople over the years. Crafts have been revived through access to such a central market space and craftspeople have become more confident of their products and prices. The popularity and high demand for shops in Dilli Haat has created the usual problem of fraudulent means being used to retain shop spaces longer than the regulated time. Traders impersonate as craftspeople, but with the government deciding to invest a fair amount of funds in replicating the concept in 20 states of the country, and the Delhi Government alone planning to have four more variations in the capital, hopefully there will be more craft an les craftiness by artisans and better evolved management practices by the government bodies that administrate the marketplace. Meaningful interventions in the development of the bamboo sector should help India to compete with China if we are willing to accept that some mechanization o tedious hand processed is inevitable. Before that, cultivators need to be aware of better practices in nurturing healthy bamboo and entrepreneurs need to think about providing the necessary fillip to cottage producers to work in well organized factory conditions. Moradabad brass that had dulled with stagnation has transformed itself into contemporary silver, pewter and lacquer look-alikes, which the Economic Times described as " a slow takeover of Art Britannica by Galleria Indica." For the first time in recent memory this same newspaper devoted an entire page to the marketing strength of handicrafts and the vast potential that is being tapped in this sector. In the era of globalisation this is no mean achievement for millions of craftspeople who still craft their products under primitive conditions with no knowledge of what lies beyond their district. Finally, craft is not just about marketing and economics although without these there would be no craftspeople left. It is also about the essence of India's culture and the creative vocabulary of its perpetrators. For a craftsperson, his self-respect, recognition and dignity are as important as the quality of his daily bread. for some decades a few select craftspeople have been commissioned to make one off pieces for prestigious shows or locations but a museum piece does not satisfy the urges of a community. It is in this context that we recently tapped the skills of community artists from tribal groups in Madhya Pradesh, Maharashtra and Gujarat, bard painters from West Bengal, a papier mache artists from Kashmir, a patachitra painter from Orissa and a phad painter from Rajasthan to experiment with preparing illustrations for children's stories for the National Book Trust. The response form both sides was unexpectedly enthusiastic. Not only were their own interpretations of the stories richer and more attractive than the usual fare, but the joy of the artists for having been part of the project that took them into the world of literature, children's awareness and printed works with their name beside that of the author of the story, was something that as one artist said, had been his dream for 20 years. New ways of garnering pride, talent and communication skills through projects of this nature will not just provide new avenues of resource for folk artists but give them and elevated status. Today the craftsperson is a far more equal partner in his own development. With a vast design dictionary, an ocean of skills and cultural traditions that need to be sustained for his own livelihood and for India's economic well-being, many agencies, both private and public, have exciting new paths to tread.

Nineteenth Century Textile Technology in India,
Textile technology was the first to feel the tremors of mechanization that became the tsunami of the ‘Industrial Revolution’ and it was cotton spinning that was at the forefront. While whole libraries of scholarship have been devoted to the great technological shift in the West and its social and economic outcomes, relatively little academic consideration has been afforded to its effect in India. I hope through this short note to encourage such research and reflection on the part of scholars of technology. The continuous manufacture of cotton cloth in the Indian subcontinent over a period of four millennia, and its domination of world textile trade for over a thousand years  is acknowledged to be a pre-industrial phenomenon in terms of scale, reach and variety.  India made and exported cotton textiles on a vast scale from at least the fifth century of the Common Era until the early nineteenth.  The critical point here is that the cotton lint from which they were made came from a diversity of cotton plants, indigenous varieties bred over centuries  in the different regions of the subcontinent,  each variety specific to its region, each with different kinds of fibre, differing in length, lustre, fineness, softness and colour. This diversity of material was worked by tools of spinning and weaving  that were flexible enough to manage diversity, producing a vast range of different cloths suited to varying needs of different kinds of people, fine for the rich, soft for those who led sedentary lives, durable and hardy for working people. As miniaturization has been the special skill of Japanese culture, the management of diversity has been the unmatched strength of Indian production systems, and nowhere is this more evident than in the traditional cotton textile industry.  Cotton cloth was made over millennia using different cotton varieties and making a huge range of cotton fabrics. The transforming of the cotton fibre into cloth employed people of many different castes, possibly making up between them the majority of the population of the region. The industry had close connections with both its raw material and its  market structure. In this structure, or system,  each part was closely linked to its proximate parts. Cotton was grown by small-holder farmers in every part of the region, and was easily available to the textile makers through periodic local markets. The manufactured yarn and fabric in turn was sold both to local weavers  and users and to traders who collected it from these small local markets and sold it on to bigger traders, eventually integrating it into world trade. The tools and technologies of Indian artisanal cotton textile manufacture had certain inalienable features: they were local variants of an overall unity of design, made by local skills, they were inexpensive in relation to the value of their products, and they could be adapted to suit different kinds of cotton fibre. These qualities allowed an infinite number of varied small production cycles to thrive in the different micro-regions of the country, producing a range of cotton fabrics. Cotton cloth making for ordinary people, differing in structure from weaving for the upper classes, had close lateral relations throughout the production chain, from the cotton farmer to the weaver. The accessible nature of the means of production combined with the easy availability of the raw material meant that cotton cloth making in pre-industrial India was very often the alternative or fall-back option of struggling farmer families, peasantry dislocated by wars or the like.[1] It remained so till recent times. Unlike the so-called ‘developed’ countries , India has never fully industrialised. Industrialisation in India has never absorbed more than a small part of the workforce[2], while artisanal manufacture continues to contribute significantly to both employment and output. The largest artisanal industry by far is the hand-weaving of cloth, producing well into the 21st century around 12% of the country’s textile output. In England mechanised spinning was finally able to produce for the first time a cotton yarn strong enough to be used for a warp, something which traditional technologies in India and elsewhere had done for ages[3]. Spinning technology continued to advance during the last years of the eighteenth century and the early years of the nineteenth, and went hand-in-hand with the development of the factory system. To promote the new technologies there was an alliance between the industrialist and the State that asserted the right of the industrialist to introduce new technology regardless of its consequences for the working population. The protests against such technology in the days of early industrialisation are well known. It was not all machinery that the Luddites opposed, but rather "all machinery hurtful to commonality" as their manifesto said. The army was called out to quell the protests with gunfire. “There were more troops in the troubled areas of the Midlands and north of England than Wellington had under his command in the Peninsular War,” writes Brian Bailey in his 1998 account The Luddite Rebellion. Laws were passed prescribing death by hanging or transportation to penal colonies for machine breakers.  Improvements in technology have ever since by and large taken the road to displacement of labour for increase in profit. In India too it was a confrontation between Technology and the State on the one hand against the small farmer, the hand-weaver and the hand-spinner on the other, but protest has been of a different kind: ‘Few voices critical of technology can be heard in developing countries’ says the Brittanica entry on History of Technology[4]. Perhaps the entry could be re-worded to read  ‘Unheard voices’. For of course those dispossessed by the new technologies voiced their laments, but the imbalance of power between the Indian spinner and the colonial state was too vast to be bridged even by a million small voices.[5] Distress in India never reached the level of organised protest. Even today, though there are small instances of Indian farmers breaking up the shops of traders selling cotton seeds, these remain at the level of minor disturbances. Many more cotton farmers express their despair through suicide.  However the post-colonial Indian state has modeled its response to farmer and weaver distress on its colonial forbears. There has never been an investigation sponsored by the Indian state on the connection between cotton spinning technology and the difficulties of cotton farmers, or the need of hand weavers for different kinds of yarn. Cotton yarn spinning technology retains till today the basic principles of its early days: it is rigid rather than flexible, and it can process only a specific kind of cotton fibre. The early inventions of cotton yarn spinning were made to suit the American variety of cotton, and it is one of the unanswered  questions of history whether the technology could have taken a different direction if the original raw material had been Indian rather than American cotton.  This technology was introduced into the Indian subcontinent in the nineteenth century and has been in use ever since. The story of its establishment in India is an instance, perhaps the largest in history, of an imposition of an alien technology by means of colonial force. What lends extraordinary interest to this event is that this particular technology was the tool that was used to expropriate India’s position as the cotton textile supplier to the world, a position the sub-continent had held for at least a thousand years. Its successful establishment in the very home of its former rival therefore is doubly ironic. The circumstances, nature and effects of this event in India in both the short and long terms have yet to elicit the academic attention they deserve. Such scholarship would add to Indian perspectives on early industrialization, and open a historical window on the contemporary crisis of cotton farming and cotton textile production in India.  Perhaps a tentative hypothesis could be floated: Could things have been different if early technology had incorporated the principles of Indian artisanal cotton textile manufacture, such as the flexibility to cope with diversity? If it had, what would today’s cotton spinning technology look like? Why should this subject be of interest?  Because, apart from the role of history to illumine the dark places of the past, today, two hundred and years later, the mismatch of industrial revolution spinning technology to Indian cotton farming is the cause of hundreds of thousands of suicides of Indian cotton farmers. The cotton textile weaving industry of India, both mechanised and artisanal, is now entirely dependent on yarn spun by this technology. The spinning industry itself is in the doldrums,  surviving on financial life support. The ebb and flow of Indian cotton cloth making which had been constant over centuries – springing back after interruptions of conflict or epidemics – was disrupted during the domination of large parts of the country by the English East India Company, known simply as the Company, which began to control production, beginning with attempts to monopolise the weaving of fine cloth, and later, as the cotton textile mills of Lancashire were established, by denuding entire regions of raw cotton to feed the nascent industry. Under colonial rule, the first technologies that affected Indian cotton cloth making took the form of the railway and the telegraph, specifically intended to make a passage for the large-scale export of raw cotton from the country.  Improved transport and communication linked cotton growing regions to the coast and efficiently carried away the cotton that earlier had supplied local textile production[6]. Hundreds of thousands of cloth making families lost their livelihoods as a result. A series of related technical changes supported the establishment of the new technology: New varieties of cotton were introduced more suited to machine processing, large ginning machines replaced small household gins and loose cotton began to be pressed into hard rectangular cubes for ease of transport.  Each of these changes  contributed to a systematic shift in the nature of cotton growing and cloth production in India. New varieties of cotton needed to be introduced since the machinery of cotton spinning demanded the longer, stronger staples of the American species that could withstand the rigours of machine processing rather than the softer, shorter fibres of local Indian cottons, and the Company introduced the American Hirsutum strain into India to suit mechanised spinning. While the driving power of the new spinning technology changed from water to steam to electricity, the basic need for long-staple cotton with which it began remained the same, and remains so to this day. It has not changed through the series of modernizations, which have served primarily to increase the speed of operation, thereby putting ever more strain on the cotton fibre. Large ginning machinery was able to produce ginned lint in the quantities needed for machine processing. When cotton was ginned by the farmer family the seed from one harvest was used for the next planting. The colonial administration centralized the de-seeding process by introducing large ginning machinery owned and operated by money-lenders, who ‘loaned’ the seed back to the farmer, to be repaid in harvested cotton. In this way the control of the seed passed out of the hands of the farmer. Today cotton seed is supplied to farmers by the agents of large multinational corporations and new seed must be bought each year. Loose cotton lint had to be tightly packed to carry it overseas. The Company brought in pressing machines to compress the lint into dense cubes, a process known as baling. Baling has now become a standard part of pre-spinning, even when cotton is no longer carried overseas. The compacted bale then has to be opened and the fibres returned to their original separate state. Modern baling and bale-opening and the following processes need large infrastructure and consume quantities of energy. They damage the fibre, reducing its elasticity and absorbency. It was not just the application of motor power that changed yarn spinning. The new technology initiated a seismic shift of the interrelations of the textile production chain. A series of relationships which had had equal power and lateral connections among themselves - farmer, spinner, weaver – now turned into one where the spinning mill began to dictate to both farmer and weaver, Before, spinning had been part of a textile continuum from the plant to the cloth. Different cottons were grown according to their local habitat, and these had been used to make particular textiles, in production relationships developed by custom over centuries.   Now the spinning mill would take from the farmer only one kind of cotton and give the weaver the same yarn everywhere. Diversity, the vital element of traditional Indian cloth making was directly undermined by the new technology. With independence from colonialism,  India had a chance to redesign for itself a cotton spinning technology that would emerge from its own long spinning tradition. This technology would have been specifically geared to Indian conditions, and would have preserved the diversity of Indian cotton species. It would have allowed farmers to grow the cotton best suited to their own soil and micro-climate. It would have given back to the Indian handloom the range of yarns that underscored the identity of regional textiles. But independent India kept to the colonial path, and by the late twentieth century American  Hirsutum cotton had almost entirely replaced the local varieties. Since the spinning mills are the only customers of cotton, Indian farmers are forced to grow it. It is the fatal mismatch between Indian farms and farming practices and the cultivation of American cotton that is the fundamental cause of the hundreds of thousands of Indian cotton farmer suicides in the last century, which continue today. A contemporary assessment of technology must consider its place in the global environment and its relation to society. The technology of mechanised cotton yarn spinning in India fails the tests of social, financial and environmental sustainability. Socially it perpetuates inequality since the spinning mill’s large costs of infrastructure and operation  ensure that only the small segment of society that has access to capital can own the means of production, while modernisation, helped  by loan interest subsidies from the State,[7] reduces the number of working people it employs. It continues to oppress the farmer family, driving them to debt and suicide by demanding  the kind of cotton to grow which becomes for the farmer a high-stake gamble. Financially the yarn-spinning industry of India is loaded with bank loans which it is unable to repay.[8] Environmental auditing of cotton yarn spinning mills has rarely been undertaken, but energy costs are high (around 15-20% of operating costs) and increasing with the high-speeds of newer machinery. Baling, bale opening, and blowroom need large machines and large quantities of energy. The size of individual mills is increasing, and large scale operations generate high levels of heat, so that more energy and large quantities of fresh water are needed for humidification and cooling. A small initiative by a not-for-profit organization is attempting to chart a new direction for cotton yarn spinning in India. This is the Malkha initiative[9] . ‘Malkha stands for a decentralised, sustainable, field-to-fabric cotton textile chain, collectively owned and managed by the primary producers – the farmers, the ginners, the spinners, the dyers and the weavers’ says the Malkha website. Malkha has set up small-scale cotton yarn spinning units in cotton farming countryside. It has done away with the whole back-and –forth, energy intensive operation of pressing the cotton into bales and the subsequent stages of bale-opening and blow-room which are needed to get baled cotton fibres back into their original, separate state. Besides being energy-intensive and needing large infrastructure, baling and its following processes weaken cotton fibre and destroy much of its elasticity and absorbency. Malkha yarn is woven into cloth on handlooms. The result is a cotton fabric that keeps the springiness and absorbency of the original fibre and holds dyes well. Clothes made from Malkha hold their shape and colour over years. Handweaving is the most environmentally friendly way of making cloth, and as such deserves to be promoted as a ‘green’, industry, an ecologically sound textile industry suited to the age of climate crisis. While in most parts of the world hand-weaving has been reduced to a niche or a hobby, in India hand-weaving particularly of cotton with all its ancillary activities of warping, bobbin-winding, dyeing and finishing of cloth provides life-sustaining occupation to literally millions. Ninety-five percent of the hand looms of the world are in India. Malkha affirms the viability of decentralised yarn spinning. By reducing the size of its individual spinning units, Malkha makes yarn spinning compatible in scale with cotton farming[10] on the one hand and weaving on the handloom on the other. When each link in the production chain matches the scale of the others, they can have lateral relationships among themselves, opening up the potential for democracy in production. This is Malkha’s ultimate aim: a large number of decentralised production chains owned and managed by collectives of the producers themselves. Technology has a large part to play in this transformation. Though Malkha has reduced the size of the spinning mill and transferred it nearer to cotton fields, it still uses the rigid yarn-spinning machinery derived from the Industrial Revolution model that cannot process cotton fibres from different varieties of cotton plant. A new technology specifically designed to suit Indian conditions, flexible enough to suit the diversity of Indian cottons, is yet to be invented. The direction of technology development established two hundred years ago needs to take a new path. Endnotes
  • Similarly, in England commoners dispossessed by the Enclosure Acts of the mid nineteenth century took to hand-weaving on a large scale, and eventually formed the work-force of the new textile factories.
  • ‘An overwhelmingly large percentage of workers (about 92 per cent) are engaged in informal employment’ India Labour and Employment Report 2014, Workers in the era of globalization, Institute for Human Development
  • The Indians did it by sizing the yarn with gruel made from local cereals. According to Forbes Watson Indian sizing was superior to the British, which caused mildewing of the cotton cloth exported to India.  “While on this subject we have taken occasion to speak of the character and extent of Sizing used by the native weaver. This is a point of great practical importance, as it has been thought, and probably correctly so, that the Size used by the British manufacturer is often the cause of that mildewing which is so destructive to the cotton goods sent from this country to India” The textile manufactures and the costumes of the people of India, J Forbes Watson, London, 1866.
  • http://www.britannica.com/technology/history-of-technology/Perceptions-of-technology
  • 3 see ‘In 1828’ in Economics of Khadi, M K Gandhi, Navjivan Press, Ahmedabad, 1941
  • See Laxman D Satya,  Cotton and Famine in Berar 1850-1900, Manohar, New Delhi, 1997
  • Through a series of ‘Textile Upgradation’ and ‘Technology Modernisation’ funds. ‘A majority of Indian banks’ Rs.1.6 trillion loans outstanding to the (textile) sector is to cotton textile units’.  Livemint, Oct 15,2012
  • www.malkha.in. Here I must declare an interest, since I am a member of the Malkha organisation. Seventy-five percent of cotton in India is grown by small-holder farmers on their own or leased fields of two to five acres each.
Unsolicited paper, Round Table of Society of History of Technology June 2016

No Hands on the Loom, The New Handloom Policy
In the current context of competitive trading across the world it is extremely important for India to hold on to the special features of what she produces. Product differentiation, patenting are some of the ways competition is muted to the advantage of the seller. Today when the internet also communicates designs and all details without any human intervention, the imitation even plagiarizing of product design and competitive wars are intense. China, as it used to be the case of Japan in the earlier century, is able to manufacture "Hand Made" art and craft of almost all the other countries of this world, with machines, and since price competition is the name of the game in a world of trade liberalization, she is able to offload her imitated products in the very same countries from where the "handmade products " emerged. In this context , one of the ways or the only way that countries can keep their special "brand " is to strengthen the  presence of the uniquely handmade , support its survival and even subsidize , give  tax relief , take it on to the High road , to products that are uniquely from India 's civilization . Therefore it is very worrying that the newly declared policy for handloom textiles in India, has taken the view that for the sake of volume, they would now remove the restrictions imposed on the space provided to power looms and large mechanized mills that already have the lion’s share of textile production to take over the space provided for Handloom. Those who are dedicated to preserving Indian traditions in production, and also enabling the people who fabricate them have more often than not argued about the critical value of handmade goods, not only to rural livelihoods, but to the saving of energy, the use of indigenous methods which are environmentally friendly and most of all the spiritual satisfaction that a craftsperson gets from making a beautiful object Kamla Devi Chattopadhyay , Pupul Jayakar and other eminent national champions have written extensively on this aspect. Indian embassies and celebrations are built around the hand products - perhaps increasingly China made Indian handicrafts and handlooms? who knows? .It would be a SHAME  from which it will take much time to recover if we now shift our approach to textile production, of shared spaces to cannibalizing the handloom. Shared spaces was a famous aspect of Indian economic policy, called product differentiation in economics. Rajaji resolved the conflict between hand and mill, at one time, in relation to sari manufacture, by putting in place a policy whereby woven bordered saris could only be produced by hand. At Expert Committee meetings and during the over 6 month long deliberations of the  Steering Committee and Working Groups for the 12th five year plan there was no discussion on change in the Handloom Reservation Act, the definition of Handloom or the mechanization of looms. In field research, meetings with stake-holders this was not placed on the agenda. The strength of the powerloom and mill owners lobby can be gauged by their concerted efforts to bring about a change in the Handloom Reservation Act and the changing definition of handloom to open the floodgates to manufactured weaving production at the cost to handloom. This kind of backdoor policy change broods ill for the industry, for employment in rural India and for the unique products of the loom. The Steering Committee offered several prescriptions for renewal and growth. Recognizing not only the huge numbers that are gainfully employed in rural India, providing the second largest area for employment after agriculture, its home based workforce, that requires minimal capital investment, it took into account another significant aspect which cannot be quantified in monetary terms: the social and cultural weightage of handlooms, the traditional knowledge associated with its production, the entire handloom value chain that it sustains including those who wear and value handloom and its unique Indianess. Recognizing that this needs to be factored in and included in the final math’s, before imposing change that will disrupt rather than enhance employment, production and development. At a time when the value of handlooms is increasing in the market for its uniqueness, this sector is being punished by mechanization.  The strength of handlooms lies in its hand-skills and any attempts to mechanize would pit it directly against the power-loom and the mills who have been cannibalizing the share of handlooms through the copying of design and passing off products as those made by hand. With over 33% of handloom workers reporting that their greatest threat was from the mill and powerloom sector (NCAER Handlooms census 2009-2010). Handlooms are a counterpoise to 21st century mass and anonymous production, based as they are on the qualities of hand, oral knowledge and tradition. The products of the loom are woven by a skilled workforce, trained and educated through apprenticeship and inter-generational guru-shishya parampara, outside the formal technical training system.  The uniqueness and distinctiveness of handloom product offerings is honed by cultural and civilizational underpinnings, its diversity reflected in materials, skills, motifs and techniques. The eco system of handloom production is well structured and defined; its regional variations are home grown, being indigenously and differently organized from that of the so called organized sectors. In fact a parallel could be drawn with the highly effective havala system that too is indigenously and differently organized and yet effectively services a large number of our countrymen.  Policies need to recognize this differently organized handmade sector, build on its advantages to create delivery systems that prioritize its growth. While tools and looms are in need of urgent development and improvement, field work has shown how innovative changes have been introduced by weavers themselves to reduce drudgery and enhance productivity. Loom technologies represent indigenous ingenuity at its best, are built, repaired and maintained, within the village eco-system, not dependant on spare parts from the city.  With 87% of weavers located in rural India with limited access to continuous electricity supply the new planned policy of mechanizing looms would be an ill considered strategy. Mechanization of the loom as proposed by the new policy will link the production of handloom to power supply – erratic at its best in areas of handloom production. Mechanization will in the short run itself result in declining productivity as loom-work will be tied to unreliable electricity supply inevitably leading to declining production rather than the expected enhancement. If for the sake of argument we assume a scenario where there is an uninterrupted supply of power in rural weaving centers, it is counter intuitive to expect increased production; as a major bottleneck to production currently is yarn availability at the right price and right quality - the life blood of weaving. This has and continues to be a perennial concern, its supply regulated, managed and controlled by the PSU - National Handloom Development Corporation (NHDC), Ministry of Textiles. Until NHDC is restructured to be more effective and efficient and responsive the handloom sector and weavers will continue to be under served. The handloom industry provides the second largest area of employment after agriculture, with over 72% of weaver communities belonging to the economically and socially disadvantaged SC/ST/OBC and other minority groups ad hocism of this kind will be a disservice. Each loom provides employment to an average of 6 to 9 workers on the pre-loom, on-loom and post-loom process. 70% of this skilled work force is in the productive age group of 18 to 45 years; this ill considered move could result in at least 2 to 4 workers being unemployment.  Resulting in the inevitable migration to already swollen cities, the deskilling and disenfranchising of the weavers, and the entire village eco-system. The effects of this policy on the North-East also require study, with a concentration of 60.5% of the  total handloom household; and where the numbers have increased  over the previous census (as they have in West Bengal and Andhra Pradesh). 99% of the weavers here are women, operating looms that are ergonomically suited to them and to their production, While there is an argument that power loom India is not able to produce as much as she could and needs to, for textile production to swell this is a specious argument.  Mill owners are putting out textile manufacturing to power looms as it does enable them to save costs while not forfeiting profits.  To cater to this strategy would be an error on the part of the Indian state. First published in the Indian Express. 6 June 2013

No wonder they call him Ustaad !!,
Issue #008, 2021                                                                                        ISSN: 2581- 9410 It is said that the mystic poet and weaver, Kabir Das, meditated on his loom, his mind fixed on alternating warps and wefts as he composed his immortal couplets on the banks of the Ganges in Benares.

Kabir Das – source- https://thevidetimes.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/kabir-painting-1.jpg

He and his family earned their livelihood by weaving cloth. Weaving -- both of textile and carpets -- has been the economic mainstay of communities in Varanasi and neighbouring districts Mirzapur and Bhadohi since then. This cottage industry has provided a livelihood not only to thousands of weavers, but also to people with ancillary skills -- dyers, spinners, carpet washers and perhaps the least acknowledged but amongst the most talented of them all -- the Naqsha painters.

A naqsha being painted. Pic Credit : Obeetee pvt ltd

Naqshas are an essential aspect of the carpet making process. They are maps, drawn to scale on graph paper and hung behind the loom and . Every square on the graph paper represents one knot and weavers follow the map to create intricate, exquisite designs on the loom. In the olden days, the more skilled Naqsha painters would also be called upon for another important job -- to paint detailed representations of carpets that would enable buyers to visualise how the finished carpet would look. Called Colour Plates, these used to be painted freehand on art paper with slim squirrel hair brushes. They were so intricate and time consuming to paint, that artists used to paint a quarter of the design. When the design had to be shown to the buyers, two mirrors attached by a hinge were placed on the Colour Plate. The reflected images would complete the design. This magical sleight of hand that transformed a design fragment into an entire carpet never failed to delight Western buyers! They would select the Colour Plates they liked, and then the same artists and their apprentices painted them on graph paper Naqshas for weavers to follow.

A colour plate of a quarter of a design transforms into a full design when seen through a `magic mirror'. Pic Credit : Obeetee pvt ltd

Naqshas have always been painted to make it as simple as possible for weavers to follow. So whatever be the colours on the actual carpet, they are painted with bright neon colors which the weaver could easily see even in the dark. A colour code is attached with them on the loom, again for the weaver’s convenience. They are also larger than the actual carpet so that the weaver can see the design easily. So the making of Naqshas requires not just artistic ability but the ability to calculate ratios and proportions exactly so that the finished carpet is of the correct size. However, even though Naqsha and Colour Plate painting require as much skill and talent as weaving carpets, these artists have remained largely invisible. While the outside world sees hand knotted carpets as the fruits of the weavers’ labour, the artists who first brought its design to life, have been relatively unrecognised. The inheritance of craft Just like the skill of weaving is traditionally passed down through a system of apprenticeship, master Naqsha painters, also known as Ustaads (teachers) have also taught generations of artists the skill of Naqsha painting -- usually in workshops within their homes. Earlier, in UP’s carpet belt (and it sadly remains the case even today) there were few other jobs to be had. That is perhaps why so many learnt the art of Naqsha making as children; it was a good livelihood skill to know. In Naqsha maker homes, young children simply grew up with carpet motifs, paints, brushes and palettes all around them. Many learnt to wield the paintbrush before they even held a pencil in their hands. Others were sent to master Naqsha makers to learn. An area in Bhadohi, Khamaria, emerged as the Naqsha hotspot -- where artists could be found in every single home, and the clacking of the looms so ubiquitous elsewhere in the district, was replaced by the meditative whisper of hundreds of brushes on paper.

Shamsheer ustad. Pic Credit: Geetanjali Krishna

The painter, ustaad and visionary Among all the Naqsha artists that Khamaria has produced, Shamsheer Ali is probably one of the most renowned. “I can hardly remember a time when I did not have a brush in my hand,” he says. “I was born in a family where fine squirrel hair brushes and palettes made of smooth, slick shells had been passed from father to son for generations.” He has yellowing old ledgers filled with his father’s works -- European Aubussons, sublime floral designs in pale pastel hues, others reminiscent of old Japanese woodcuts in their simplicity.

Old colour plate in Shamsheer ustaad's folder. Pic Credit : Obeetee pvt ltd

At 68, his beard is white and his right hand a little less sure -- but his eyes are as bright as ever as he oversees some apprentices painting on graph paper. He spent most of his career working for Obeetee Private Limited, the largest carpet manufacturer and exporter in the area. Although he is now retired, he is still respected for his ability to train new artists. “I can’t even recall how many Naqsha makers who have learned with me,” he says.

Training novice Naqsha makers used to be largely through observation and practice, he says, and remains that way even today. “The focus of training from the very beginning is for students to learn to see designs and patterns in terms of a carpet’s knots,” he explains. “Each square represented a single knot of the carpet and in our local parlance we would call it a Tapka.” To do this, trainees spend days, sometimes weeks, simply trying to paint simple motifs using individual squares on graph paper. In the second stage of training, the master draws the motifs and the trainees paint inside them. “After this, I teach them to draw simple motifs painted in a single colour on a graph,” he says. “Once they become proficient in these basics, I give them tasks of increasing complexity.”

A student painting inside motifs in Shamsheer Ustad's house. Pic Credit: Geetanjali Krishna

Trainees then learnt how to translate a design into a Naqsha. This was not easy. They had to learn to count the number of knots required to make the width and length of the desired size of carpet. “Although like myself, most of them in the olden days were not highly educated, trainees learn to add, multiply, divide and calculate ratios and proportions with mathematical precision while painting on graph papers,” he says. “Mistakes are a costly affair – the final carpet could end up being a different shape or size if the naksha is wrong!”

All in all, it takes up to three years for Naksha makers to become proficient at their work. Eventually, the more talented artists can make Naqshas from all sorts of design inspirations. Shamsheer Ustad once even made a Naqsha looking at the negative of a photograph! Today, however, things are changing. “Most young people find the learning of the art of Naqsha making too tedious now,” he says. “Unlike some years back when I had several trainees at a time, now there are only the occasional few…” Yet to his satisfaction, three of his five sons have followed him to become Naqsha makers and designers. So have legions of people who have trained under him. Over the years, he has come to be known as Shamsheer `Ustad’ or master. The advent of CAD/CAM technologies About 20 years ago, new computer aided designing and manufacturing (CAD/CAM) applications suddenly caught on in the area’s carpet industry. What had been done by hand for several centuries could now be done more quickly on the computer. Moreover, the CAD/CAM made it easy for designers to play with colour variations and motifs. Suddenly, the hand-painted Naqshas began to look old-fashioned and less adaptive than their computer-drawn counterparts. Unsurprisingly, Shamsheer Ustad and other artists were forced to face the real prospect of their skill becoming obsolete; their jobs being taken over by younger designers trained to use the software. "At first, my heart didn't accept this change," he recounts. "How could a computer compete with a skill that had been passed down generations?" At that time, he believed that the computer stylus could never achieve the intricacy of motifs that his beloved paint brushes could. However, when he actually saw what CAD/CAM could do, he changed course. While his peers continued to prophesise the imminent failure of this invasive technology, the middle-aged Ustad decided to undergo training in CAD/CAM use. "At Obeetee, I had access to computers and the new software,” he recounts. “My seniors encouraged me to learn and I did it, realising this was the only way to stay relevant in the industry!" Shamsheer Ustad’s innate talent and colour sense helped him to adapt to it to an extent, but it was not easy. “Not being educated, initially I was at sea with the computer, there was just so much it could do that I don’t know. The only way to learn was to break down the tasks into small steps and focus only on the functions that I needed for my work,” he says. This is how he later taught his students. “Once I had learnt to switch on the computer and the software, in many ways the rest of my practice remained the same. It was not very difficult to use the stylus to draw the patterns I had earlier made with my paint brushes! The support and appreciation I received gave me motivation to then learn to use other softwares as well. Eventually I could even draw intricate designs simply using CorelDraw with a mouse and mouse pad!” he says proudly. It was a period of intense learning and practice for Shamsheer Ustad. “I realised the shift was much more than simply replacing the paint brush with the stylus. It suddenly became so easy to create several colour combinations using the same design on the computer. And one could replicate motifs so quickly with the click of a mouse! In fact, soon we had to introduce slight aberrations in our computer aided designs to mimic the human hand..." Around that time, his sons were growing up. "Of course I wanted them to learn to paint because that was the family tradition!" he says. But the canny father ensured they learnt to use CAD/CAM too. “When I started teaching them and other young boys to work on the CAD/CAM, I used the same strategy that had worked with me. I taught them to focus only on the functions they needed to operate the program. Once they learnt that, all they had to do was capitalise on their innate drawing skills and replace their paintbrush with the stylus!”

Today he says carpet companies are hiring talent from the textile designing sector who have had formal training in CAD/CAM but little experience in hand painting designs and Naqshas. “Many of them develop beautiful, intricate designs but have no idea how these would look woven into a carpet! Whereas Naqsha makers who have learnt purely through observation and decades of practice, start seeing designs, paintings, photographs and indeed the world, as a web of intricately linked knots…” he says. “Perhaps the skill of painting Naqshas has made artists like me better equipped to work on CAD/CAM…”

The warp and weft of rug making

Weaver seated on the loom with the half finished carpet and naqsha visible. Pic Credit : Obeetee pvt ltd

Over the years, many Naqsha makers who did not adapt to CAD/CAM technology, have moved to other fields now; collateral damage as their industry modernised. “When I hand paint the occasional Naqsha today, memories of my father and grandfather painting come flooding back. But then I realise that if I had not moved with the times, I too would have fallen by the wayside because the demand for hand-painted naqshas is very low now," Shamsheer Ustad says. “Instead I feel satisfied knowing that not only did I stay relevant, I also trained many young people including my sons to adapt our traditional art to changing technology. In fact, it has taught me that however good you might be at your work -- there is always so much more to learn.”

He gets up to leave, saying he has an appointment that he just can not delay. As a measure of the respect he commands in his community for his role in training countless youth in Naqsha painting and then in using the CAD/CAM, he now has an important job post his retirement. He has to perform the azaan (call to prayer) at the local mosque every day. Not many traditional craftsmen have been able to migrate their skills to an entirely new medium as Shamsheer Ustad has done. Thanks to his years as a master trainer, he has altered the landscape of his community, where craft remains tightly intertwined with people’s daily lives and livelihoods. “When I look at my old painted Naqshas and when I see the boys I’ve trained creating designs using styluses on the computer -- it’s as if little has changed and a lot has changed at the same time,” he says. “I still believe that nothing can replace the skill of a manually held paint brush -- but I also swear by the ease of adapting designs on the CAD/CAM! At the end of the day, I now realise that the art I inherited from my father and his father before him has remained the same, only that now my sons and I have another medium in which we can express it.” He smoothens his spotless white kurta as he leaves, saying, “Oh and there’s one thing I’ve always strived for in my life and have also tried to teach my students -- humility. It is important to take pride in doing your work well. At the same time, all you have to do is look at nature to know that you will never be as good an artist as God. Look around you, look at this fallen Neem leaf. No human hand can exactly mimic its myriad shades, veins and the purity of its proportions! One must always be aware of this, no matter how well one wields the paint brush...” It is reminiscent of one of Kabir’s evocative couplets. Jhini jhini bini chadariya, Kaahe ka tana, kaahe ki bharani, Kaun taar se bini chadariya? “I have woven cotton into the warp and weft of this cloth. But how did God, the Master Weaver, make this finely woven fabric we call skin, that we wear all our lives? What is the warp? What is the weft? What fine thread does he use?”

North South Project, A New Model of Design and Craft Collaborations in the Developing World

'North South Project: A New Model of Design and Craft Collaborations in the Developing World' Patty Johnson 22nd August 2006 India International Center, New Delhi

"North South Project: A new model of viable design and craft collaborations in the developing world" was realised over a two year period and resulted in a product launch at the International Contemporary Furniture Fair, New York City in May 2006. Called the North South Project because of reach across the global north-south axis, it was implemented in Guyana, South America and Botswana, Africa. The tenets and principles were the same: a collaborative effort involving small scale craft factories and indigenous producers in the creation and branding of new design products that used regional vocabularies in unexpected ways to reach high end markets.

"North South Project" received an ICFF Editors Award for Craftsmanship and was included in Newsweek's "Design Dozen" for 2006.

Product oriented design and practice is being changed by new technologies, global marketing and the internationalisation of products and production. As the basis of manufacturing shifts in response to commercial forces, the role of the designer is becoming increasingly strategic. Design practitioners need to be able to think about the identity of products and their cultural backgrounds, issues underpinned by the need for innovation, and, economic, sustainable and ethical thinking. As the rapid pace of globalisation changes the role of the designer, the means of production and the market itself, at an ever-increasing rate, new approaches must be undertaken. "North South Project" is a design program that over a period of two years focussed on the creation of partnerships with manufacturers, indigenous communities and crafts organisations in South America and Africa to create market-ready contemporary design objects. As one of the key connections between the factory floor and the market, designers have a pivotal role to play in the real futuristic world we live in, where everything is indeed made by hand. It is now time for designers to assert that responsibility. Each generation of industrial designers raises a particular issue to the forefront. In the 80's it was universal design. In the 90's it was sustainable design. I believe that the shame of exploitative manufacturing is what this generation has to face. The developing world is one of the next design frontiers, producing goods that fuse quality with creativity beyond just low cost. For a long time, design in these places has been relegated to handicrafts and regional products. But now, with the coincident movement toward more handcrafted, high quality products in the home, this region's expertise is being tapped for mid- to high-end products, as many brands grapple with the quality and creativity gap that exist with much of the manufacturing in Asia. In part, the intention of North South Project is to act as advocate for creative communities and to ensure that the nature of product development is a sustainable process that can extend beyond the length of the project timescale. At its core, North South Project suggests that designers look beyond the individualism of Western consumer philosophies that currently drive design practise to include investigations of craft production and indigenous artefact in developing countries and to be explicit about those partners and makers. The project aspires to create a human centred and partnership based model of design collaboration that produces sophisticated hybrid products that are launched in high end markets. Implicit in this investigation is the idea that design practitioners must expand their focus to include strategic development and through this begin to redefine the designer's role in a contemporary context. The research and the implementation specific to the product lines and market launch of this project show that a new model of viable design and craft collaborations in the developing world is possible and that these findings can have a broader relevance for sustainable design practise. The cultural position of design remains an intense and contradictory matter but one that is successfully played out through a very wide variety of methodologies. There are many positions for design in contemporary culture. Quality and innovation have a whole bundle of sources: designers need to be alert and knowledgeable, and there has to be an awareness of design and making as a positive engine for change in the larger context of contemporary social concerns. A broader critical approach is needed in order to avoid the often inward and self referential spiral that is the most prominent danger for design as a field of knowledge. Much of the current discourse around design in the Europe and North America revolves around the growing anxiety of the loss of the manufacturing sector to Asia and the need for design to gain relevance through new approaches. Object-focussed design, whether from the craft studio or the design industry, seems less and less sustainable from a global perspective. North South Project chooses an approach that posits an ideal that can incorporate this ongoing dialogue in the North and that allows Southern producers and communities to translate designs with their own unique skills and regional materials to produce sophisticated hybrids. The luxury of individuality is still the key for Northern markets; it is just that the individuality is not an imposition of the designer. It has become more inclusive and works for a broad range of partners. Certainly it takes the empowerment of producer communities as a given. Dutch craft designer Hella Jongerius and the Campana Brothers in Brazil explore similar areas and their work demonstrates a lively vitality that balances craft and mass production while addressing cultural diversity. The Campana Brothers centre their production for Edra and other high end manufacturers in Brazil. They look for the spaces between traditional products and experimental products often utilising the waste materials from factories in poor regions of the country. Their work is grounded in the physical world, as contrasted with the technological world, and is tied to a place and its manufacturing traditions making it more specifically representative of the people who make it. This is an ideal for a broader contemporary design practise. If the artisan furniture and craft products of the developing world are to be valued properly and create sustainable livelihoods in those places, their design must realistically reflect and communicate the labour and skills of the producers who make them. The aim is to avoid the branch plant mentality of multinationals that plagues Southeast Asia, and other places where craft skills have been degraded, and offer instead high end design products that are suited to the skills, technologies and histories of these places. In this context, the designer's role is expanded to include the development of new creative strategies, the creation of appropriate research protocols and the building of infrastructures, in addition to, the traditional knowledge base of craft and design practise. Large scale projects are some of the clearest examples of the exploitation of the South by the North in the name of development. Projects such as gold mining, bauxite quarrying and the export of raw timbers in Guyana, and, diamond mining in Botswana are often jointly funded by Northern countries and their Southern hosts. The benefits of existing projects flow mainly to the North in the form of contracts for heavy equipment, specialised materials and technical expertise. The main beneficiaries in Guyana and Botswana are too often highly placed local elite of officials and business people. The effect on local people can be to create poverty. Poor people are displaced from their land, natural resources are spoiled or sold for one-time profit, local access is denied to those natural resources, people's existing systems of knowledge are devalued or eliminated and their ability to sustain a self-provisioning lifestyle is curtailed, often with no compensation or replacement by alternative sources of income. No community is more affected by this situation than the indigenous Wai Wai. The Wai Wai live in the far south of Guyana at the headwaters of the Essequibo River near the borders of Brazil and Surinam. Traditionally considered master weavers they are an extremely artistic community that makes beautiful baskets and many other objects including pottery, woven combs, bone flutes, bows and arrows, blowguns, beaded aprons and necklaces. There are only two hundred Wai Wai in Guyana and their existence is threatened by concession logging and government policy. The Wai Wai weavers are intuitive and intelligent about their techniques and materials and the aim of this component of the project was to work with their traditional forms and patterns to create new objects of high value and utility for Northern markets while retaining the meaning of those objects for the Southern makers. Their remote village, Gunns, is only accessible by prop plane and short wave radio. Their inaccessibility, coupled with a lack of infrastructure and protocols, presented some difficulty in working with them. I am also amazed at the efficiency of the grass roots networks that stand in for infrastructure and protocols in the developing world and this project is successful in no small part due to these informal relationships. In general, as a designer, you are at the mercy of the craftsman—in a good way. Mostly this relationship produces wonderful results, and at an amazingly quick pace. And handmade production does allow you to make things that are still impossible for machines; the variations and imperfections give life to details, and can add a (literal) human touch to minimal designs. Craft producers and manufacturers in Guyana and Botswana are confronted with numerous challenges. One of the major needs and constraints faced by these manufacturers and communities relates to adequacy of infrastructure and access to international markets. For example, the poor availability of standardised and properly dried timber in Guyana and the lack of complementary industries like metal fabricators and plastics manufacturers in Botswana, as well as government support for business development, contribute to the difficulty in securing and creating new networks and distribution channels. Working in a resource-poor setting requires a great deal of flexibility and demands the development of new skills. Above all, a culture of quality must be encouraged. Expectations must be readjusted and the long sustainable approach must be taken. It won't be a one-month project; it will be a two, three or five year project. And the designer has some responsibility not only for the design and production of these objects from a variety of manufacturers, but also for getting these products to international markets. The design strategy was developed (slowly) out of an analysis of theory, field research and the application of design process. The approach is human centred and emphasises sustainable and collaborative design practise using local resources, appropriate technology and socially aware production. The North South Project hypothesised that it is possible to develop a flexible design methodology which allows for the assessment and evaluation of differing situations. Designers are in a unique position to move between cultures and to facilitate an exchange of information. A lack of information about market demands and benchmarks was the most common obstacle cited by crafts producers on this project. The inadvisability of taking a risk which necessitated an excess of capital and resources was also acknowledged. By linking local materials and local techniques with knowledge of the export market, appropriate design and sophisticated hybrids can be created. Design input from the producers derives from their knowledge of skill, process and cultural design sources. While emphasising locally rooted initiatives and developing culturally sensitive, sustainable objects, the importance of broader connections with global economies and the need for access to other markets is addressed. Through this process of collaborative decision-making and design development, new creative directions are possible. The designer, by acting as a receptive information gatherer is able to engage as a design instigator. In the course of a project of this scale many partners, facilitators and collaborators are needed. Each of these agencies, manufacturers and communities will have different expectations and demands of the project. The designer in the role of instigator/coordinator is the figure that provides information on the course of the activities and as such must have as reasonable an understanding as possible of the constantly changing views and demands of each of these groups. It is the spaces created between the common ground and the differing positions of the stakeholders that is the area in which the contemporary designer should be working. Cross-disciplinary knowledge of opposing interests like government policy, agency mandates, social concerns and the needs of manufacturers and producers is necessary to keep the spaces open enough to work in. Each of these contributors is an important component in the success of the project and the designer must make sure that each is informed enough to have confidence in the outcome without sacrificing the creative skill that is the designer's contribution and area of expertise.

'The best products of the next decades will be the result of a reconciliation of what have previously been understood to be opposition: specialisation and generalisation: the individual and the collective; globality and locality; the avant-garde and the popular. Everything relates to everything. Accepting this without losing ourselves or sacrificing the quality of the things we make will be the great challenge.' (The Persistence of Craft, Greenhalgh)

At the centre of this equation is the need for building economic capacity for the producers through design and, for the designer, the opportunity for creative development of a different order. If this is kept at the forefront of the program of activities, it is often necessary for the designer to become an advocate not only for the completion of the product lines and dissemination into international markets, but for design itself. In Guyana and Botswana, like in North America, design is seen in contradictory ways and the role of design is sometimes undervalued and sometimes overvalued. The designer must have a sense of these differing viewpoints and constantly work to achieve a middle ground in which to begin the work of design.

All over the world, creative communities in non-industrialised countries continue to produce craft products drawing from their own cultures and craft traditions. Many of these artisans, like those in the Wai Wai community, are living at a subsistence level and trying to employ their skills in an attempt to support their families and their villages. While internationally, $100 million (USD) is currently traded in craft products each year, for many of these makers, access to markets in industrialised countries is often difficult to attain. However, market connections can be improved through information the designer brings to the producers. Consumers in wealthy, post-industrialised countries are seeking the feeling of a continued link with traditional cultures and the value of goods made by people. On the other hand, the rise in ethical consumerism means that these same consumers demand accountability; they are not willing to take part in exploitive relationships between poor producers and distributors, exporters or retailers. They want to be certain that their money is reaching the people who make the goods. In addition to a lack of information about market demands and trends in affluent markets as a major obstacle to product development, the producer groups clearly cited economic hardship and the social costs of a "trial and error" method of design development. There are a range of market-led design decisions which must be made in order to define what objects will be produced. Above all, the designer provides information with which the producers can differentiate their goods from other products in the North American and European markets. There is no point in artisans and craft production factories competing with mass produced goods. They can instead compete on the strengths of the product, by focussing on the upper end of the market through high quality materials, detailing, production and design. Scale of production is another important factor in product development and design; the product must be situated within a market which is suitable to the producers' abilities. Labour intensive craft products can be expensive to produce and so the final product must be priced accordingly. A pricing structure has to be established which gives the producers a fair return for their work yet also accommodates the needs of wholesalers, importers and retailers. By looking at what is already available, where market gaps appear and what is flooding the market, the designer is carrying out an analysis to match materials, skills and techniques to an appropriate product, price point and market niche. The majority of the funding for the project went to the cost of the booth space and the promotional materials. By Northern standards the budget for promotional tools was not that large and decisions were centred on the best way to achieve the greatest reach. A tool kit of a comprehensive website, postcards, letterhead and business cards were developed. The website is the central component and there were a number of reasons for this. The internet is a communications tool which has potential for creating direct connections between producers in the South and buyers in the North. With the spread of Internet use for catalogue shopping and direct speciality shopping, it seems a natural extension to look at the Internet as a potential branding tool for these products. In addition the design and printing of catalogues is financially out of the reach of most of the producers in developing countries and the Internet, even though unregulated, can provide a cost-effective, broad dissemination of products. The North South Project website is both a product showcase and a case study of the project as it was implemented. This tone is intentional and the purpose is to both offer product and, at the same time, to clearly explain the narrative and brand the methodology of the project. Now having had a little time since May to review the results of this course of work, I can definitely say that the outcome reflects my continuing interest in the interchange between research and design and commerce and culture as well as my belief in the importance of sustainable design practise. And I think that it is possible for indigenous communities and craft factories in developing countries to produce sophisticated hybrid design products appropriate for Northern markets. This can be done in a collaborative and sustainable way. Flexibility of approach is absolutely necessary, and the designer must be willing to occupy a space typified by the constant flux of the societies in which she works. My experience designing for these manufacturers and creative communities was one of the most enriching of my life and profoundly changed the way I think about design (and was a challenging and constant process of the re-evaluation of my own shortcomings and views). I learned that people-centered design has a middle component, living between ethnography and interface. Hand manufacturing is the reality in much of the world, and designers, sitting at their desks sending off PDFs to unknown destinations, may be a modern paradigm, but ultimately a hollow one. I would encourage designers to go and visit where their products are made, and, especially, with the people who make them.

"Three of the most important issues which face the global community as we enter the new century are unemployment, the exploitation of labour and the environment. If the great thinkers and motivators of the Arts and Crafts movement were still with us, these are the issues they would focus on. So should we." Paul Greenhalgh "The Progress of Captain Ludd"


Notes from the Ground: Values in the Eyes of the Artisan,
Issue #002, Monsoon, 2019                                                                      ISSN: 2581- 9410 When I hear about helping artisans, reviving craft, and intervention, questions that come to mind are who is defining the “problem?” For what reason do interventionists want to work with craft, and for what goal? If the answer is ‘because I like it,’ that is not enough. Because craft is made by artisans, and the quality of their lives will determine the sustainability of craft traditions. My real question is, have you asked artisans what they want? And then we get to the question of HOW to ask (If you ask, ‘you want more money, right?’ You will get the answer you expect). And then we get to the dilemma of education: you don’t know what you don’t know. Some time ago, I heard that someone assessing our design education program wrote, “If income after completion of the course is assumed to be a key measure of the impact of the course’s effectiveness (without considering aspects like confidence level, opportunity for young of the families to re-connect with craft etc.)…” So here, I must intervene. Assumption is usually risky. Would the National Institute of Design or the Rhode Island School of Design- or any educational program measure impact primarily by increased income of its graduates? Just asking. Our institute’s stated goals, at least, are not in fact primarily quantitative. So our task then is to develop a meaningful means of assessing the success of education for artisans, in terms of our stated goals and, more important, in terms of goals for artisans and craft traditions defined by artisans who have graduated from the program. In February 2018, we held a meeting of weaver design graduates to initiate this inquiry. I began by asking who felt they were successful. Almost everyone quickly raised his hand. So, I asked, what is success? And what do you think contributes to success? “Success is achieving goals; you need a goal. You need to know your capacity, what is good for you,” said Dayabhai. “Success is decision making power,” Purshottambhai agreed. “You have to be clear and capable of decision making- and targeting your market,” he said. “Success is using your creativity,” Prakashbbhai said. “We now confidently know good design,” Rajeshbbhai added. Dayabhai elaborated on this. “We now have our own concepts and identity,” he explained. “We know how to take feedback.” To this Pachanbhai added, “Everyone’s work is unique. Besides knowing your USP, you have to be able to articulate it. Success is having a voice.” Puroshottambhai echoed, “And success is being able to take responsibility.” Strikingly, not one artisan spoke of success in terms of money. “My early goal was money,” Dayabhai explained. “My goal was to educate my children. Now, it is to be my own person. My son told me not to weave. Now people come from all over the world to my house, so I have value. It’s not about just money.” Namoribhai shared his experience. “You need design and business to get full value. New design at home has no value. You need to know when and where to sell. And business without design is no use. If you have both design and business you can answer the question: ‘Why is it expensive?’” I asked if their goals had changed because of design and business education? Prakashbhai laughed. “Before the course, we had no goals!” he said. “At least I was interested in weaving. If a weaver is not interested in weaving, how could you interest him?” “Previously there were no choices,” Dayabhai concluded. “Now, weavers who continue their tradition do it by choice. “What we can do is share our experience with the next generation. Now we can think of the benefit to our community.” I asked them to define key problems in craft. Dayabhai related participating in a meeting in Varanasi to launch the Indian government USTTAD (Upgrading the Skills and Training in Traditional Arts/ Crafts for Development) program. Weavers there said that 70% of the fault of falling markets for craft is customers asking for cheaper goods- and artisans complying. Short cuts and undercuts lead to the death of traditions, he said. Namoribhai recounted that previously in trade fairs the sale of acrylic shawls was measured in tons. Nine tons of shawls used to sell, he said. And then the shawls were copied in power loom, and sales plummeted. So weavers were forced to make new products. Next, I asked why they had decided to take the course? Pavanbhai related that everyone seemed to be making the same thing, and sales were average. He didn’t get a job after doing a BA., and his father encouraged him to take up their traditional profession. Prakashbhai shared that job work has limited scope in terms of money and creativity. Risks are necessary, he said. But when you don’t know the market, you are afraid. You have to face your own struggle. Shantilalbhai said the he was interested by graduates’ success. Niteshbhai narrated that he wanted to be known. I was not educated, he said, and here was an opportunity for me to get ahead (because formal education is not required). I asked about their experience of design education. “We didn’t know how much our lives would change,” Puroshottambhai said. “We learned the value of our work, learned to think of the market. We got courage. Now we are independent.” “Now we can do our own business,” Dilipbhbai agreed.Ravjibhai shared that when he saw new materials it changed his work. He hadn’t seen anything but acrylic before. And after the course, he began to do his own work. Ramjibhai had also just worked in acrylic. “The course was a turning point for me,” he said, “to become independent. We got a platform from the design course, and the Business and Management for Artisans (BMA) course taught us planning.” Murjibhai agreed that the course gave him opportunities. Pachanbbhai appreciated learning how to use inspiration- especially from traditional work. Prakashbhai appreciated practical learning. Dayabhai thought field trips were important, and felt he had learned a lot by participating in the Bhudodi to Bagalkot outreach program because it required application of learning in a real experience. Prakashbhai felt that the value of the course was in teaching them to innovate within traditions. “Designers try to take us beyond tradition,” he said. “We refuse. We can change materials but not lose our identity.” He also felt that if you do simple work you will be copied and then will be priced out of the market. Purshottambhai added, “We are artisans. We don’t weave yardage production.” And about business and management education? Dayabhai said that he realized that the key mistake artisans make is risk aversion. Artisans need to make investments. But taking risks is less risky when you have experience. He learned to think of the customer’s view, to understand clients’ needs. And he learned the importance of brand. Finally, he felt the class learned to take responsibility when they planned and produced their own exhibition. Puroshottambhai said his key takeaway was that if you don’t value your work, neither will your customers. What else would they like in the course? Namoribhai felt that artisans need to learn to bridge the communication gap, which leads to slow response. Niteshbhai pinpointed the eternal problem of costing and pricing. He would like to establish or correct wholesale/retail margins. And finally, what would they like in their future? Value for their products, everyone agreed, and good for the maximum number of people. Purshottambhai hoped that artisans would share information with each other rather than compete. And he would like to encourage the less established artisans to take the course and get experience. Those who had participated in Outreach programs felt that the artisan-to-artisan approach was most effective. “First we have to understand our own tradition’s value,” Puroshottambhai concluded. “It is our responsibility to preserve our tradition. It was given to us and we have to value it.” Posted on Threads of Identity on August 15, 2019.

Nothing for the Handloom Industry,

(April, 2007 Update)

Every year at Budget time the handloom industry waits to see if its importance in providing productive, low-investment employment in rural areas will be rewarded by the government of the day. Every year it is deeply disappointed that its potential is not recognized through policy measures and budgetary allocations. In 2005 there was a flurry of activity in the PMO and the Planning Commission, a Steering Committee was formed in the Planning Commission and was asked to give recommendations for policy on handlooms for the 11th Plan period. I was part of that Committee and this is a summary of the recommendations we drafted:

  • The policy for the handloom sector should recognize that the sector has tremendous potential for generating productiverural employment, and therefore as a critical sector for expanding rural employment it is entitled to substantial State support. A critical drawback in policy formulation has been that information regarding the industry is out-of-date or non existent; proper data needs to be collected and disseminated, on the basis of which a vision document for the industry should be prepared. The processes of information collection and policy formulation to be inclusive, with consultations at the level of primary producers, co-operative management, assistant directors of State Handloom departments, and higher level State officials.
  • Upto now interventions have taken a fragmented view of the industry, addressing issues piecemeal. Instead, theproduction-market process should be seen as a whole, and existing institutions such as Weavers’ Service Centres should be strengthened to play critical roles in developing production-market linkages. Management training specific to the industry to be provided through dedicated institutions, and large-scale promotion and publicity at different levels to be taken up.
  • In recognition of the size of productive employment generated by the industry, the budgetary allocation to be raisedto at least Rs 800 crores this fiscal. Delivery mechanisms to include NABARD and others such as DRDAs. Concessional credit on adequate scale to be made available. Co-ops & SHGs developed into viable production units.
  • Institutions for long-term technology research on the lines of the chain of laboratories supported by Government forother textile sectors to be set up.
  • Interventions to address both, business aspects as well as State’s social responsibility, and policy to recognize theseparate nature of these interventions.
  • Enforcement of existing legislation on reservation and hank-yarn, Government to be responsible for guaranteed accessand price support for raw materials, particularly yarn.
After the recommendations were drawn up and submitted to the PMO nothing further was heard. Unlike the draft Education Policy which some years ago was offered for public discussion and comment, no draft handloom policy has been circulated. Though there have been stringent criticisms from the field and from academics on the working of the Cluster Development scheme, and repeated requests that other existing schemes be evaluated and modified where necessary, the Finance Minister’s Budget speech this year states that ‘an additional 100-150 clusters will be taken up in 2007-08’ and ‘the 12 schemes which are now implemented will be grouped into 5 schemes in the Eleventh Plan period’. In other words, there is nothing new, all is as before, and there is total disregard of dissatisfaction at the grassroots. Though the Steering Committee had in 2005 itself recommended a budgetary allocation of Rs 800 crores, the allocation in 2007 is only Rs 321 crores, and even this meagre allocation is spent according to the pre-ordained schemes of the Office of the Commissioner, Handlooms in Delhi, rather than on making handlooms sustainable.
This cannot be the way to move towards inclusive growth. To achieve inclusive growth, to address the shocking figures of child malnutrition in rural areas, we need large-scale and fast-paced expansion of economic activity that can provide large scale viable livelihoods producing marketable goods without disturbing the social fabric; without accelerating the migration from rural to urban areas. There is a finite quantity of financial resources that can be invested in this process. So we need to build on the resources that exist, such as the features of the handloom industry: existing or easily acquired skills, inexpensive infrastructure and low capital costs, and support these resources with developmental funding. Even at its present low ebb the industry employs 6.5 million families in weaving alone, besides an equal number in warping, sizing, dyeing and tool-making. It produces a vast array of textiles of unique character and individuality, with tremendous marketability in both domestic and foreign markets. It is an area of expertise where everything that is needed for production is available within the country, so the export realization is 100%, unlike many mechanized industries that depend heavily on imported equipment or raw material. The handloom industry needs the support that all industries expect from the Government, of high-quality research and training institutions and infrastructure. It needs specific marketing, systems development, product placement and market exploration during its growth and take-off phase. With a modicum of support where it counts, the industry can easily double and triple in size in both output and employment.

NREGA (National Rural Employment Guarantee Act) to NRSDA (National Rural Sustainable Development Act),
What is employment? Is it only unskilled daily labour like drought relief programs, building roads and earthen dams - that flow away every year or digging holes to plant trees that die in percentage of the high eighties. 22 years ago as a part of a volunteer program distributing food aid and simultaneously campaigning for afforestation on community lands in rural Udaipur district of Rajasthan, I as a urban metro youngster experienced the caste system and the culture of corruption the state had ingrained in every individual.This was before the much reviled LPG age (Liberalisation - Privatisation- Globalisation). The upper castes were not easy with walling/enclosing public land to keep away sheep/goat/cow herds as that would stop their slow ingress into "public" land belonging to the panchayat or state forest preserves into their private domain. And the contractor who was carrying on public works for small dam building or digging holes for tree planting, besides keeping 15 people for every 20 listed, also used much less cement . When I asked the local villagers that why don't they protest against shoddy work, they said that it's in our interest to build a dam that flows away in the first rain, so every year we get work! So we had a whole culture of subsidy that made everyone happy. .No one denies that in the last 20 years there have been umpteen successes like Ralegaon Siddi, Tarun Bharat Sangh, Timbaktu, and many others where local communities have regained independence and sustainability .but most of these have had strong NGO's or leadership. They have managed to leverage local, national and international funds, skills, talents and cooperation. How does one "replicate" this across geographies, differing caste and landholding systems. NREGA is a dream act based on very successful local movements and programs tried in some states and regions. But NREGA is about 100 days of unskilled labour from landless workers and marginal farmers (below one hectare/2.5 acres). As Mihir Shah said in a talk at the India International Centre that marginal and small farmers need support to create bunds/watershed collection earthworks in their own lands, so private work on private land should be included in NREGA. Firstly it's a great idea, and though Nikhil Dey and Aruna Roy critique the recent 5 acre limit saying that it takes away funds from the seriously compromised landless, they don't realise that acreage is meaningless in drought conditions. .Most suicides are not by agricultural labour but by small and marginal farmers who have collateral to take loans. What is the meaningful employment you will provide in rural India unless there is a strong movement to build rural infrastructure, farming, poultry, dairy and small industry and handloom and handicrafts. This insistence at only looking at labour without ever looking at a long term plan to create a rural India which will forever not need handouts is a very state welfarist way of looking at systems which need to be actually independent of the governing big state and big private manipulators. There is no economic, ecological sustainability built into the model. Culturally and civilisationally it will create an endless dependence on the babu and the neta (as well as the activist).This is not the dream Gandhi had nor is it about dignity of being. .We instead should be asking for a plan where rural entrepreneurs are supported, and I really mean the word, because farming is the most risky occupation with no windfall returns. Great crop low prices, no crop no prices, low crop great prices for middlemen..India has more than 80 million landholdings, more than 20 million retailers and probably 100 million hawkers, service providers like barbers and repairmen, and 20 million artisans. Our unit of organisation is tiny; we even have more companies listed on the BSE than NYSE. We are a country of micro entrepreneurs, self employed people. .Activists trained under Marxist thought will term it petty bourgeoisie or kulak, and that understanding of how India works will always elude the proletariat organiser and has continued to defy the Maoist revolutionary. The Gandhian has not recovered from the shock given by Nehruvian Socialism.In a really India sensitive plan we would have along with NREGA employee cards, NRSDA employer cards. Some part of the payment will be given by employer or self paid to himself. Imagine a weaver, he can subsidise his cheap towels by the 50 rupees he gets from the state and rest through his production. Similarly farmers who own upto a certain acres of land can be allowed a certain number of subsidised labour to work on his land, so he pays the wages partly. For community land projects the state can continue to pay in full. This way the shortage of agriculture labour during sowing and cutting seasons can be avoided by farmers who will not pay the full wage. .In my experience of rural India in the last 20 years, I realise that not more than 50% are directly dependent on land or agriculture in many area. .They provide a skilled service of repairing motors or tractors and vehicles, plumbing, electricians, carpenters, metalworkers or small retailers or halwais and chaiwallahs. They all will do better if we create a system of more income for all of rural India. .With piped water in many villages, we need an efficient water treatment system. With plastic and sachets we now have plastic waste outside every village. We need to think now of waste disposal and rural infrastructure maintenance. Its time we thought of how power is shared with not just the local bureaucracy but local political elite. Just like in big cities we have little idea of how funds are spent, but still big media is there to complain, but in rural India very few take on the sarpanch. So how can just the sarpanch be responsible for all funds and employment delivery, its like making a local czar or mafia. Like SHG's (Self Help Group's) were created for saving, one needs to support local SEG's (Self Employment Group's) who can take on projects and can be rated on delivery and efficiency. They can be Dalit majority or OBC majority; it's like creating a cooperative that does service delivery- wether of tree planting or bund making. It will train people at micro level to make small organisations for doing public projects. We have failed miserably to create skilled labour coops in cities that can take and manage building contracts. Such coops exist in USA too. .I am proposing a skilling and upgrading of millions of unskilled, unorganised Indians through NRSDA (National Rural Sustainable Development Act), in creating a network of employers, if the Public Sector wants to join in, by using these networks, more the merrier. .Let's build on how Indians work and organise, not how we have thought till now that they ought to work and organise.

NREGA Mandirs and Fendi Block Prints,
In a village somewhere between Bacchau and Bhuj, in Kacchh in Gujarat the village sarpanch cannot find people to register for the NREGA (National Rural Guarantee Act) program. He needs poor, unemployed citizens of India who want to avail of 100 days of manual labour and get paid Rs. 100/- a day. .You see Kacchh is an arid region with low rainfall but somehow everyone has some land. Since the canal from Narmada reached here the land prices have gone up ten fold. Not that much of the water from Narmada is reaching all farms, but huge numbers of industries have moved in, taking advantage of cheap land and water from the Narmada. We, that is Meeta and I, work in Kacchh with a hand-block printer who is a harijan/dalit. .Now how does a harijan/dalit land up doing block printing which is traditionally done in Dhamadka by only Muslim Khatris. .Our block printer's uncle started working as a boy with the Ajrakh printers and since he was smart, picked up the trade and skills which are hidden by every artisanal caste in India from every other caste. .So his uncle became a flourishing artisan and his whole extended family picked up the skills, while the uncle set up an NGO and a school to help educate poor children. Our block printer is a young man of 25, who has been to Dubai and Port of Spain on exhibitions. .A few years back he sold his motorcycle to buy some land when he realised land was a good investment. .Now he dreams of a second hand Maruti Gypsy which he will run on gas. So now to get back to the main story, of the sarpanch not finding people for NREGA. Our printer tells us that no one in his village wants to do NREGA work of pulling out bushes from road sides and cleaning old wells or digging holes. So the sarpanch goes home to home enlisting old people. Our printer's grandmother is between 80 and 90 years old and is a NREGA card holder. She refuses to spend the 700 rupees she gets a week on herself or her family. She tells the sarpanch to buy grain to be given to the birds! The sarpanch is not cutting into her wages and respectfully comes every week to give her the wages; after all she is donating it to charity and birdfeed! Our printer tells us another NREGA story from his father-in-law's village. .His father-in-law has been enlisted similarly in his village for NREGA by the sarpanch. Not only the father-in-law but many such senior citizens, and they all had decided to turn all this state money for building their village temple! I hear the temple has modern tiles and flooring! The Government of India might have decided not to put resources of NREGA into raw material but some citizens of India would rather build religious infrastructure! Meanwhile our young printer bought some printed scarves from a shop at some airport from Mumbai to Port of Spain. He just showed us the prints he was charmed by… they are the logos of Louis Vuitton, Coco Channel and Fendi hand block printed on 20 rupee cotton. Our printer couldn't understand why so many foreigners were laughing when they pass his stall in Crafts Museum in Pragati Maidan! He was surprised when he saw these brand websites on our laptop, and then exclaimed that from now on he would only print silk scarves with these logos!