Flight Of The Golden Fleece

But jokes apart, the wrap industry is out of hands - literally - of both traders and weavers (read the government). Primarily because of continued tensions in the trouble-torn Valley and rank government apathy. Instead of the sheer elegance of pashmina what crowds the shelves today is cashmere, a fibre (once supplied by the nomads) which comes from organised Chinese goat breeding farms lining the border. The fibre, similar in texture to pashmina in its raw form, is then transported in trucks to a large number of villages in neighbouring Nepal where weavers from Bengal and Kashmir blend it with silk. From these warehouses the produce is then sent to Indian cities for further process and design.

This operation, continuing for nearly a decade, first came to light when a fact-finding team from the World Wide Fund for Nature-India (wwfn-i) visited the state to probe the poaching of Chiru, the endangered Tibetan antelope found in the upper reaches of Ladakh. The animal’s skin is used to make shahtoosh shawls. "There’s only one (pashmina) farm in Upshi but that’s also in a sorry state. In fact, we encouraged weavers (who were earlier in the shahtoosh business) to shift to pashmina (because it was a perfectly legal trade) but were told that the market had almost dried up in the state and (ironically) flourished in Nepal," the fund’s country director (traffic) Manoj Mishra told Outlook.

Information available with wwfn-i shows there’s virtually no domestic supply. Nomadic tribes in the upper regions of Ladakh can barely coordinate with the region’s only breeding farm, mainly because it’s a good seven-km journey uphill from their camps. As a result, the nomads prefer to barter whatever little fibre they shear with Chinese traders for food, clothes and utensils.

And New Delhi’s loss is Beijing’s gain. Textile ministry reports say Indian exporters pick up large quantities of the blended fibre - claiming parity in standards with pashmina - and send it for designing and processing before shipping them to the European and American markets. "We don’t have a choice. We need continuous supplies. It’s unfortunate we don’t get it in India any longer and have to depend on supplies from Nepal which, in turn, depends on Chinese exports," explains Ravindra Kumar, a garment exporter. But he blows up the myth that the substitute is as good as the original: "Those who have experienced the class of an original pashmina wrap hardly look twice at cashmere."

Kumar should know. For the connossieur of a classy, branded product, it’s like picking up Darjeeling tea from Kenya. But what caused this crisis? Ironically, despite the obvious quality pitfalls, many don’t see it as a crisis. The cashmere fibre comes not just from China via Nepal but also from Mongolia, Iran and even strife-torn Afghanistan. Consignments from these countries are processed at warehouses in the Himalayan kingdom where hundreds of private looms have spawned over the last decade. Couple this with the continued neglect of breeding programmes in Ladakh and you can explain the boom of alternative markets. "During the early ‘50s, Englishmen exported these goats to Europe for crossbreeding. The Chinese and Mongolians also successfully bred these goats in their farms. But India, home to this business, lost out in the race," adds Kumar.

Industry observers agree. For instance, the best quality Chinese white top form cashmere fibre fetches over $160 for a kilo, an identical price the superior Indian variety used to command earlier. A notch below the Chinese produce is the Mongolian fibre ($140 a kilo) while the Afghan and Iranian fibre quote at $80 a kilo.

"At least 10 years ago, supplies came mainly from India. But then it was a mad rush to flood the markets - especially fashionable departmental stores like the Harrods and Selfridges. No one took care of supplies because traders were only too keen to sell. Also, till date the pashmina weavers continue to be an extremely disorganised lot because their dependence is on supplies from Nepal," rues People for Animals convenor Pritish Nandy. "The worst will happen when Nepal develops the dye and design market and starts exporting directly, thereby skirting India altogether," he warns.

Agrees Samir Mehra, executive director of the Amritsar-based Esma group. He feels not just breeding farms, India also lacks plants for scientific dehairing process. One plant was planned by Raymond in Thane but that too fell through.

Textile ministry officials admit the business will have to depend on supplies from abroad. So does the trade office of the J&K government in Delhi. "The priority is to tackle terrorism, not to breed goats. It’s unfortunate that domestic supplies have dried up. But there’s enough work for the weavers (estimated at over 10,000) who get regular supplies from Nepal," says a senior official.

New Delhi’s continued neglect of a product originally fashioned by skilful Kashmiri weavers is causing problems for Indian traders in global markets. Recently, the Boston-based Cashmere & Camel Hair Manufacturers’ Institute (ccmi), the only certified authority across the US, said the term "pashmina" marketing is ambiguous and, therefore, misleading! It further said pashmina is a term to describe cashmere in India and Nepal. ccmi says pashmina does not have any distinguishing characteristics other than those normally associated with cashmere coming from China, Mongolia, Iran or Afghanistan. It also says "pashmina" is not a legally recognisable term for describing fibre content in European or American law. Pashmina is not a descriptive genetic term and ccmi considers its use on garment labels (in the absence of the appropriate designation "cashmere") to be a violation of labelling regulations and, therefore, misleading to the consumer.

But who cares for breeding of alpine goats in Ladakh when the Valley is engulfed in internecine violence?