In Bangladesh, Tangail's sari weaving art hangs by a thread

Fashion

A Bangladeshi shopkeeper presents a traditional sari to a customer in a Tangail store. Credits: Credit: Photo by MUNIR UZ ZAMAN / AFP

By AFP

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Tangail (Bangladesh) - Despite its recent official recognition by Unesco, the centuries-old art of Tangail sari weaving is struggling in Bangladesh. It is threatened by the relentless evolution of fashion and economic competition.

In his workshop in the town that gave its name to the craft, Ajit Kumar Roy holds little hope for the future of the technique he strives to perpetuate.

"It's nothing but hard work," summarises the 35-year-old weaver, sorting threads on his loom. "You have to move your hands, legs and eyes at the same time," he explains, "one small mistake and you have to start all over again."

Whether made of cotton, silk or jute, the Tangail sari, a hand-woven fabric, is distinguished by the fineness of its designs and the uniqueness of its motifs.

Here, it is a man's job, responsible for weaving and choosing the motifs and colours. Women are tasked with making the thread or applying rice starch to the fabric.

In December, Unesco added the practice to its long list of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity, as a testament to the "social and cultural practices" of the local people.

The sector is struggling, a victim of changing fashions, a lack of public support and fluctuating wool prices. It has never fully recovered from its decline during the Covid-19 pandemic.

Roy states that the number of looms used by his employer has since been halved. "Some factories have closed down," he adds.

A matter of borders

Many weavers have had no choice but to retrain. "We earn 700 takas (around six dollars) per sari and it takes at least two days to produce one," he explains, "how can you support a family on 350 takas a day?"

The head of the weavers' association, 75-year-old Raghunath Basak, fears his art will die with him. "My son has taken up the same profession but I don't know how he will manage once I leave the trade."

Despite a handful of prestigious clients, the industry is in decline. These include leaders from the neighbouring Indian state of West Bengal and former Bangladeshi prime minister Sheikh Hasina, who wore one to the United Nations headquarters in New York.

Political tensions between India and Bangladesh have not helped matters. "We used to export our saris by road and import wool when prices rose here," recalls Basak, "now the border is closed, making exports almost impossible."

Until the 1960s, saris were a symbol of identity in what was then East Pakistan.

Consumer preferences have changed. Although she continues to add around 20 Tangail saris to her wardrobe each year, 45-year-old Kaniz Neera understands that they no longer appeal to the younger generation.

"My mother wore them both at home and outside," she points out. "Now, young women only wear them for special occasions."

However, author Shawon Akand refuses to write off a craft that reached its peak when the Mughal empire ruled the Indian peninsula (16th-19th centuries). "The Tangail weavers are the heirs to ancestral traditions," he recalls, "the Tangail sari will evolve and, I am sure, endure."

This article was translated to English using an AI tool.

Bangladesh

Craftsmanship