Kolkata

The man, who is surrounded by stacks of files in his mini-office in Calcutta’s district of Lake Gardens, makes a quite amazing equation: “Let’s assume two villages are equally poverty-stricken. One has a rich cultural life, the other has hardly any. There where art can evolve there is virtually no human trafficking.”

“Culture as a way out of social misery” – this is the great aim to which Amitava Bhattacharya has dedicated himself for a dozen years with his project “Banglanatak” (“Bengali Drums”). Step by step, it has been making progress. Meanwhile, the organisation, which is also supported by UNESCO, has over 72 regular co-workers, and its absolute highlight is the “Sufi Sutra” – an open-air festival in a beautiful park in the heart of Calcutta, recently celebrated for the second time before thousands of visitors. Here, too, Amitava has more plans: he would like to make Calcutta a centre of world music.

The festival features spiritual music, but by no means exclusively. “Sofi Sutra” aims at presenting original, unadulterated sounds from all cultures, without synthesizers and electric guitars. This year, for example, Marouanne Hajji from Morocco sang the praises of Allah, but there was also a performance by Söndörgö from Hungary, who simply whipped up a storm with their folk music from the Balkans.

”If culture can develop, then the whole village benefits.”
Amitava Bhattacharya, Banglanatak

Amitava is firmly convinced that music and painting can become a launching pad for an escape from poverty. Donations alone do not help, as he is constantly explaining: “If we just give them money, that doesn’t work. People need jobs and motivation.” Donations should therefore only be used to create work: “We have to see what skills people have, strengthen them and then market them.” Even the micro-credits, much praised in the West, are only beneficial if they fuel the entrepreneurial spirit.

How many poor people are there actually in West Bengal with its capital Calcutta? Amitava makes a rough estimate: “Maybe a million who only get one meal a day at most. And then another 20 million who just manage to scrape together enough for two meals. Those are our two target groups.”

“Banglanatak” has already taken 3,200 artists under its wing. But, in actual fact, seven to eight times as many people profit from this initiative: “The whole village benefits from this.” All these artists from rural India are (or, at least, were) illiterate. Now, in contrast to times past, they send their children to school. And this, in turn, sets an example and motivates others. Nor would the artists have had their children vaccinated in the past; India still has the highest infant mortality rate in the world. But now, here too, the painters and musicians have become role models – and the “Health Days” in the rural areas are becoming increasingly popular in these villages.

Hence the work of Banglanatak is also a good tool when it comes to helping the entire village community to gain a perspective in life. If people see their neighbours enjoying success as artists, then they also feel at the same time: ”Yes, we can do it. It’s possible!”

Yet it is not only poverty on which Amitava Bhattacharya has declared war. A further problem, one that tends to be disregarded officially, is that of human trafficking. “Here, too, children are abducted for forced labour. It’s not just in Bangladesh that this happens.”

For example, in poverty-stricken Jharkand, home to many of the subcontinent’s indigenous inhabitants, parents are often promised that their children will have a golden future in Delhi or in other industrial centres – whereas in fact they are only exploited there. 92 percent of human trafficking takes place within India, says Amitava. Whereby in West Bengal it is not so much child labour but rather “child marriages” that are the cause of concern. What is this? “Someone comes from the city and says ‘You have such a lovely daughter, I want to marry her.’ The parents are delighted that they don’t have to pay a dowry and hand the daughter over immediately.” But the men from the city do not go to the registry office with the girls, but they sell them – to pimps. And instead of being able to start a family, they have to walk the streets: “Right here and in Darjeeling this is a huge danger.”

While travelling through the villages, he has noticed that communities where culture has developed are far, far better able to protect themselves against this: “Here not only the artists are involved, but also the audience.” If there is no culture at home, then people have no motivation to stay and only want to get away. “And then it’s all too easy for the traffickers,” he explains.

As proof of his theory Bhattacharya points to the example of Purulia – a poverty-stricken region with many Adivasi (Indigenous inhabitants who were cast out by Hindu culture). Almost every evening, there is a concert or a dance performance there, some groups even reach a total of 270 performances a year. “They are in such great demand.” And the interesting thing is that, as he says, “There is hardly any human trafficking there.” In 2004, when Banglanatak started work on its project “Art for Life”, there were only 23 ensembles there who practised the traditional Chhau dance. Meanwhile there are 147.

For Amitava, however, this success is no cause for self-importance. He remains modest: “We are merely the catalyst that helps people to develop their skills.” Meanwhile “Art for Life” holds a festival in each village where it is active. Banglanatak has organised health insurance for all 3,200 artists and their families. Furthermore, it has built centres where the musicians can rehearse and perform. “But this building then belongs to the village community. We give it to them. That’s our principle.” Amitava has an unwavering faith in rural India and its future: “If education becomes widespread there, and people are able to develop their abilities on site, then the true strength of India will reveal itself. Namely the honesty of the people there. Then the corruption in the cities will also disappear.” In India, he says, the people in rural areas have hitherto been regarded merely as a source of cheap labour: “But we must see them as grains of seed for good entrepreneurship.”