Why are Indian weavers living under minimum wages?

A strong case for guarding the livelihoods of the hands that run our traditional looms

It was in 2009 while promoting his film 3 Idiots that Aamir Khan had traversed across India, appearing in different locations in various guises. One of his pitstops was the home of Kamlesh Kori, a weaver in the town of Chanderi in Madhya Pradesh. Khan not only purchased handwoven sarees from Kori–paying four times the quoted price (I will pay ₹ 25,000 for two sarees that’s the right price for your work, and not ₹ 6500 as told by you,” Khan quipped)–but also assured him help to open a store in Mumbai.. Last year, during the Covid-19 pandemic, Kori passed away, leaving behind his family in penury. In the intervening years, while Kori had become famous because of Khan’s visit, it did little for his fortune or his craft. Today his family sells beedis to survive. The looms have fallen silent.

We often hear about this debate surrounding handmade textiles being expensive. Even more often we see the fashion industry–and the saviours of the sector–talking about the need to safeguard indigenous crafts, to ensure fair wages and be seen to be working for the upliftment of the generationally-skilled artisans. Handloom continues to be rated as the second largest employer in the country after agriculture. According to the 4th All India Handloom Census, released in 2019, there were 3.5 million handloom weavers and allied workers practising the craft in the country, down from 4.3 million a decade ago.

Why is consuming handmade, artisanal products seen as patronising, and a business that constantly requires support? If “handmade” is considered a national treasure, why do we continue to let it languish, and not place it as a luxury commodity? Why do we compel weavers to sell at prices that don't provide for their livelihood, or enough to create a self-sustained enterprise that can be globally competitive?

The price is not right

India produces 95 per cent of the world’s handmade textiles. It is a sector where we can have a global monopoly, backed by thousands of years of rich history and the strength of generationally-skilled artisans. No other country in the world can boast of such a diverse tradition of handmade textiles, right from the techniques and processes involved to a sustainable production cycle. Government patronage, however, continues to push handmade to compete with what is machine-made.

Do the patrons of Manish Malhotra or Sabyasachi talk about the brands being expensive? What R&D practices do these brands follow to nurture Indian craft? How does a karigar, who is integral to their product and the final pricing of the garment, command benefits? Do we have stories of karigars who have made a fortune through their intricate and fine skills? When grassroot producers craft a design or a product and intend to put a price point, the market diktat compels them to undersell. We have, for long, gotten used to purchasing under-priced handmade products, simply because the artisans who created them lacked formal education or the wherewithal of marketing and branding them.

To be able to understand the process of pricing, let us realise what goes in terms of crafting handmade products: how many hands are employed, the average percentage involved as labour cost, and how the entire supply chain operates on manual work.

Made by hand

From the time cotton seeds are sown to the time the garments are stitched and reach a customer, a handmade product passes through multiple hands. This largely gets classified as “khadi” in India, whereas mill-spun yarn that is processed and woven is classified as “handloom”. On an average, at least 25 people are employed in a single run of a loom. The largely unclassified allied workers engaged in the intensive pre- and post-loom activities–besides the cotton farmers and weavers–are governed by minimum wages set by the governments in each state, while for khadi, it is decided centrally. So how much does a spinner earn? “At our historic meeting at Sabarmati Ashram, we decided to increase the existing wages for spinners to ₹ 7 per hank, and our effort is to provide the daily wage of ₹200 to the millions of khadi artisans to make it a remunerative employment alternate,” Vinai Kumar Saxena, Chairman, Khadi and Village Industries Commission (KVIC), famously remarked in 2017.

A spinner, on an average, is able to create 20 hanks a day, making it the lowest wages stipulated across any sector in India. Kerala has stipulated double these wages in 2018, yet it doesn’t fall under the livelihood protection wage bracket. The basic rates for spinning depend on the yarn count, varying from ₹ 14.30 to ₹ 44.80 per hank, which still ensures earnings less than ₹300 a day. Wages for unskilled professionals vary upwards of ₹ 800 per day. In comparison, for any other job–be it a carpenter, an electrician or a mason–the skilled daily-wage worker commands anywhere around ₹ 1,200 on an average. The majority of weavers across the country, even the highly skilled ones, are paid less than this.

So are wages–constituting up to 55-65 per cent of a handmade product–the only component that can push up the price of handmade products? While wages are not prone to inflation and subsequent increase, the remaining components, including raw material, transportation, marketing and retail margins continue to rise, thereby not allowing human labour to earn better.

Anything made by hand takes more time to create. Each process, when done by hand, even if repeatedly, produces unique designs and forms that tell the story of the craft. The raw materials procured in smaller quantities also escalate the costs.

A weaver can produce a limited quantity of metreage in a year. A rough estimation of weaving four metres a day, and working 22 days a month–that’s just about 88 metres a month–can translate anywhere close to 1,000 metres per year. This production has to assure the weaver a “living” wage. There is no increment and certainly no way to increase the metreage as you keep making it more technique-oriented. So a weaver, irrespective of the years behind them, can only have limited earnings and no growth path or increase in wages as they get more experienced.

More than 66 per cent of weavers in India make less than ₹ 5,000 per month, and 26.2 per cent make between ₹ 5000-10,000. The previous census had put the figures of weavers earning less than ₹ 5,000 at 99 per cent. A design student fresh out of college with zero practical experience commands a starting salary of ₹ 25,000-30,000 and an aspirational tag of a textile or fashion designer. A weaver, however, sees no growth,irrespective of their knowledge and skills.

“Why is it so expensive?” “We want to buy directly from the artisans” are oft-repeated statements. When one walks into a designer’s atelier, prices are rarely bargained. There is a simple understanding that if the product is expensive, it must have some value built into it, besides the designer tag, the material, the finishing, the craftsmanship, packaging, marketing and so forth. An artisanal product at source with all the richness packaged into it is never able to command that kind of price or following.

Fashion designers have often been courted by government bodies to revive the fortunes of weavers and to ensure increased and better wages for the survival of the craft. But there are very little efforts that illustrate any difference made to the lives of weavers, or to a craft. When an Indian designer or Indian craft heritage is celebrated at the pedestal of luxury, it never has been for the artisan or karigar who spent countless hours crafting it.

Spotlighting the weavers

Nearly eight years ago, while strategising the positioning of an Indian designer at a global platform, I wanted to change the course of conversation from the techniques and creative details that went into each design, to sharing narratives of the human hand, and how each garment has hundreds of hours of work behind it. The communication worked in our favour as we spoke about the philosophy of the designer’s work, how it aligned with Gandhian thinking, and how empowering couture and “handmade in India” can potentially be.

Simply put, we focused on the many hands that collectively work to create a handmade product, and hence highlighted its value and uniqueness. Subsequently, many Indian brands adopted the style to talk about the number of hours gone into making each of their garments to validate their pricing. We conduct the same exercise with our fair-priced handwoven textiles to sensitise the customer to the labour involved in making a product and the number of people a garment can provide employment to. On principle, once the product falls under the fair-price bracket, we are also against dropping prices offering discounts or going on sale, as it skews the wages of some weavers. Handmade is limited, and should be priced with a new mechanism and positioning, even if we detach the sentimental value of it not being accessible to all, or labelled as expensive.

Even if corporate India is investing in designer brands riding on the wave, it’s pertinent that money rolls into the craft sector as well, not as CSR or benevolent funds and grants but to establish hundreds of independent entrepreneurs working to preserve the craft ecosystem.

Products handmade in India are yet to find their rightful place in the global luxury space, and in the process, find a new future for highly skilled artisans who will be rightly paid, and a repertoire of techniques. Handmade can never come cheap. Let it not shy from being “expensive” and ensure the money flows back to the last trail, benefitting every hand that worked on it.

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