Tuesday

Humanising History

It was a fascinating experience to engage in a conversation with Romila Thapar, one of the celebrated historians of Ancient and Pre-Modern India. I could literally see the organic link between  reading History in schools and what she conversed over a span of nearly two hours - as if it started from that very moment where it ended in classrooms.

Over the past two years, the King's India Institute, under the leadership of Dr Sunil Khilnani and with support from other members of the faculty, has been quite successful in engaging some of the finest thinkers of and on Modern India with the students. Thapar was more of an exception to that long list of esteemed scholars as her work mostly related to Ancient India. However, even at this age, it never seemed that she was talking on something which was not part of a dialogue on Modern India.

Compartmentalising Indian history between the Ancient, Medieval and Modern was only for the purpose of working out the syllabus and holding examinations, she said and "we should never forget the roots" for a better understanding of the "contemporary". In fact, some of the questions raised by her during the course of the conversation transcends beyond the realm of History as an academic discipline. Even an anthropologist or a sociologist or an archaeologist could have come up with similar questions during the course of their research, assuring many among her audience that inter-disciplinary and multidisciplinary thinking were also taking shape in India.

Thapar, through erudition, situated her thinking on Ancient Indian History at the very heart of what was contemporary, when she said "simply stating that Mohenjo Daro was a big urban settlement is not good enough, we want to know how big it was." These are some of the queries which come to our mind when we deal with anything contemporary, but such questions never raked our brains when we studied Indus Valley Civilisation in schools. Now out of sheer inquisitiveness we want to know more about the lifestyle of the ordinary people living in urban settlements like Mahenjo Daro and Harappa. We want to know many more things about the life world of those living in the ancient urban settlements.

When we studied Indus Valley Civilisation, it seemed as if Mahenjo Daro and Harappa were like two islands in the middle of nothing. Today, however, we want to know what was beyond those urban spaces, were there villages - if so how fertile was the land in those villages - what was produced in those fertile land - what was the mode of irrigation - did farmers use fertilisers?

Given my long association with journalism, Thapar asked "Was there any form of media during that period - if so what was the mode of communication?"

Many such questions come to our mind now but never did when we studied school textbooks on History. I am not sure whether we were encouraged to do so. For us, history, especially ancient history, was more of a static concept and without any organic element.

I asked if the change in attitude, approach and perception was an outcome of enhanced intellectual thinking?

For Thapar it was going beyond what she termed as "romantic History" - that is talking only about kings and queens, battles and kingdoms.

As I walked out of the room having gothic structures it seemed that it could be humanising history. After all history is the story of humankind. My curiosity now is not only confined to the monarchy and their empires but I also want to know more about the life world of the warrior who goes to the battlefield to defend the king. What was crossing his wife's mind or those of his children when he left for war? Did he make enough arrangements for his family to survive in case he never returned from the battlefield?

My father always says that history is the connection between the past and the present. His intention though was not to inculcate historical thinking but to encourage me to read more and develop my reading habits. I never listened to his advice then but now the 'pain of disconnect' - failing to situate the past in the present - makes me feel uncomfortable.

Our conversation with Romila Thapar in one of the historic rooms of King's College at least provided me with some temporary respite.

Tirthankar Bandyopadhyay is a journalist and media consultant. 
He can be contacted at tirthankarb@hotmail.com 

All comments are personal.

Thursday

From Savar with love

Everytime I make my way into Primark, H&M, Tesco, Asda and Matalan the helpless faces of those who lost their loved ones in numerous tragedies involving the readymade garment factories in Bangladesh come to my mind. Yet I regularly visit these and many other retail outlets for the simple reason that they sell cheap clothes imported from countries like Bangladesh, India and Sri Lanka. Such products manifest some of the tangible benefits of globalisation available mainly to the people in the western countries. For me though they are no less than the labour of love of the garment workers who work under inhumane conditions but do everything necessary to provide us with cheap yet high quality products.

Once I bought a shirt from Primark and it cost me as little as £5. Just to clear my doubts, I took it to Kolkata, showed the shirt to many retailers and wholesalers of clothes, yet failed to get one of such quality at such a modest price. Undoubtedly, globalisation has changed the dynamics of trade fetching even more benefits to the consumers in the first world.

When Neoliberalism - a politico-economic doctrine that decimated the nation state - and trade liberalisation were introduced, capital flowed easily and swiftly from the North to the labour abundant countries of the South. Jobs and services were outsourced to places where cost of living was much less and factors of production had to be paid a fraction of the remuneration in the western economies. Large scale retrenchment and factory closures that followed caused huge resentment, yet the policy-makers assured the ordinary men saying that things like clothing,  food etc. would be available at a much cheaper price bringing the cost of living down. The real ploy, one can now make out, was to keep the wages low so as to mop up even more  profit for the corporate class.

On the other side of the world, sweatshops engaged in industrial production of readymade garments became the hallmark of national pride and identity. Mushrooming of readymade garment factories ensured fast buck for the traders, which also paid for the comfortable living of their political patrons. Unhindered wealth creation in Bangladesh benefited the rich and the influential but the misery of those who toiled hard to earn foreign exchanges and pride for the nation continued. The garment workers were literally locked up in dingy buildings so that their masters could deliver orders on time. They were left to die from suffocation as the country's foreign exchange reserve touched new highs. And finally, they were literally pushed to the throes of death as a building in Savar, housing at least five garment factories, caved in following a crack which was evident well ahead of the worst industrial disaster Bangladesh has ever seen.

As I sport the cheap yet high quality, trendy yet comfortable clothes exported from countries like Bangladesh, I often indulge in a cost-benefit analysis for the poor workers who work in inhumane conditions only to add to the forex reserve of the national economy so that Bangladesh could upgrade to a developing country, and to make Neoliberalism palatable for the westerners.

The readymade garment sector accounts for more than 70 per cent of Bangladesh's export earnings, yet the inhumane condition of the hapless workers in this sector and their deaths in tragic circumstances have failed to stir the nation's moral imagination. Everytime a tragedy strikes the readymade garments sector, political parties of all hues make a beeline to offer nothing more than lip service only to ensure that the perpetrators go scot free.

One tragedy after another have failed to awaken the political class from the opportunistic slumber. Awami League claims to have situated the country on a higher trajectory of growth and prosperity, but what have they done for the garment workers who lost their lives and their families. BNP is more interested in bringing back the caretaker regime before the general elections but have very little to offer to the poor workers. Jamaat-i-Islami and Hefazat-e-Islam vow in the name of Islamic morality and norms, yet they are silent over the tragic killing of innocent and poor garment workers at Savar.

The ill-fated workers are neither compensated enough for the hard work they do in inhumane conditions nor are they sure to survive another day to witness a new dawn. The surplus generated through their economic and social exploitation pays for the comfortable living of the rich and the influential, yet the garment workers carry on with their labour of love - what else can one call it - day in and day out.

It is no surprise though that the international community, which speaks so highly on human rights and values, also become muted when it comes to the sufferings of the poor garment workers in Bangladesh. After all, the cheap products produced by the hard work of the poor workers in Bangladesh contribute to a lower cost of living in the West.

The dresses that I wear everyday are drenched in sweat and blood of those very people who, along with many others, lost their lives under tragic circumstances in places like Savar. It seems they are caught in a quagmire of high stakes from various quarters both within and outside Bangladesh.

Tirthankar Bandyopadhyay is a journalist and media consultant. 
He can be contacted at tirthankarb@hotmail.com 

All comments are personal.