Community Radio and Empowerment Bonita Aleaz
Community radio is supposed to empower the marginalised and give them a voice. Given the lack of objective outputs by which to measure the outcome, it is necessary to look at the subjective aspects of its impact. A study of short-lived community radio project in West Bengal illustrates how it became so central to the self-representation of the people and how it managed to overcome the divide between the programme and the listener. Efforts to 'empower' the marginalised sections of the country have taken well known, at the same time, circuitous routes. During the debate surrounding broadcast policy in India (2007) attention was drawn towards the multifarious uses of 'community radio' not only as a means of communicating location-specific information for development of the communities/areas but also in eliciting the elusive voices of the marginalised, specially the women. The Institute of Mass Communication Film and Television Studies of the University of Kalyani started a radio programme 'Kalyani' under the government's communication policy which allowed universities to run radio programmes for the benefit of rural masses. The programme ran for almost a whole year from December 2004- September 2005. Even though the policy on community radio of the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting was brought into effect in 2006, the programme launched by the Institute actually preceded the policy itself. The intention was to run the programme in such a way that a 'community of listeners' would automatically build around it. The rector/honorary secretary of the institute, Shyamal Sengupta (interviewed 2 April 2008) described in great detail the objectives behind the broadcast venture. The erstwhile vice chancellor of Kalyani University, Nityananda Saha and his successor Alok Banerjee were the prime movers behind the endeavour. The objective was to engage the students, affiliated with the department of mass communications, with a radio programme to be aired through All India Radio (AIR). It was meant to build up a relationship with rural dwellers, shape the programme in accordance with their requests, give voice to their pent up desires, and provide a platform to people who are otherwise invisible and without any means of public expression. Kalyani, thus became a 25-minute programme running for five days in a week, aired in the afternoon at 2.00 pm, a time when people in the rural areas normally broke off for a midday rest. Opening Closed Doors 'Andarer pasra khulte pare' (idiomatic use which loosely translates as 'knowledge/ information of the inner world will come out') was the vision behind the venture. For this purpose a larger repertoire of responses from the listeners was gradually built into the programme. The people were encouraged to write in, not only in response to the programme, but on anything they wished to share. Surprising intellectual content was revealed in the letters received. Remote villages housed individuals very familiar with obscure English poets and their works. Similarly, a wealth of knowledge regarding herbicides, herb related cures, environmental degradation, water management and other extremely useful information was provided by the villagers through regular letters to the institute. A novel feature observed after a few weeks of the running of the programme was the connectivity developed between the villages -- the programme was used to convey information sought by people dwelling in one village, by the people from other) villages writing in. The programme organisers became merely the medium facilitating such interconnectivity. It became truly 'community radio'. The audience ranged from schoolchildren to retired people. Women unexpectedly turned out to be the most avid listeners of the programme. The nature of their letters revealed the multifarious forms of involvement they experienced with the programme. Above all, the most noticeable feature was the intense appropriation and subjective alignment professed by the listeners. To the listeners the programme came to symbolise a person named Kalyani with whom they could communicate on a no-holds barred basis. The institute readied the entire programme for each day at its precincts, copied it into a disk and sent to the AIR, Kolkata for broadcast through its channel A at the appropriate time. It was possible for this researcher to gain access to almost all the CDs with the programmes broadcast throughout 2005. The discs being too numerous to analyse in detail here, only a bird's eye view of the contents is provided, which should help to evaluate the listener responses given later. The responses raise questions as to how a programme meant to be an objective informative community radio broadcast is appropriated and gradually symbolises a person towards whom passionate attachment is evinced. Structure of the Programme The programme each day started with a jingle eulogising the university's effort at dissemination of knowledge; this was followed by a short reading by the rector named 'thought for the day' (diner bhabna). It comprised quotes usually from Tagore; quite often this set the mood for the rest of the programme. For instance the programme broadcast on 15 August 2005, started with Tagore's 'He durbhagya Desh' (O unfortunate country') Similarly on the festival of rakhi on 19 August 2005 the focus was on the festival itself with a line from Tagore. Diner Bhabna was followed by the quiz Mritunjayee. It was a historical quiz component where the listeners were provided with at least three clues symbolising a particular person in history, Indian or global. The listeners were asked to identify the person. This gradually became the most popular component since the listeners answered the quiz with the sole objective of hearing their names over the air if they answered correctly. One person was promised a prize from among the correct respondents, provided the person's name was selected by a lottery. It gradually became evident from the letters that the idea of being categorised among the prize-winners was evidently more significant than the prize itself, quite often those lodged in extremely remote villages never received their prizes, but there was no remorse whatsoever! The nature of the questions asked in the slot Mritunjayee was surprising indeed! For instance the programme on the 16 August 2005 gave the following clues: (a) the person was the editor of the Bengali Patrika, (b) authored A Nation in the Making, and (c) since 1918, the person was a member of the moderate party. These were surely intended for the educated sections of society, and not the disempowered, underprivileged villagers. The response rate was remarkable, 31 people responded to the questions broadcast on 16 August and 50 for the one broadcast on 17 August. Significantly, a majority of the answers sent were correct. Kalyani, in course of a single year, managed to build up a reputation for being an extremely informative educational programme. Apart from the quiz, various other innovative features had been tried out, such as giving listeners a story line and asking them to complete it. Quite often certain historical luminaries were remembered in the section entitled Sarania/barania and unusual or little-known facts from their lives were narrated. Tagore's eulogy of the act of tying the rakhi and the festival, Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar's fascination and later cultivation of homeopathy, excerpts from the life of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose, were among the topics in this section. These narrations took up a significant portion of the programme. The main component of the programme was thus intensely integrative, information relating to episodes on nation-building and those involved with the same seemed to be the motive. If one had to be empowered, both the ideology and the role models were clear. Love Letters On an average about 35 to 50 letters were received every day. It was possible to salvage around 500 letters for evaluation purposes from the thousands that lay in the library of the institute. Most of the letters were damaged by seepage of rain water. It was difficult to say whether easy questions elicited the most response or the difficult ones; apart from the response to quiz or general history based questions, there were questions on literature and on the media. A sample of letters from female listeners shows through limited use of words, the efforts to convey a whole wealth of feelings and perceptions was manifest. Most surprising is the number of letters received from Bengali Muslim women from the districts around Kolkata. At least 30% of the letters were from women and of them another 35% were from Muslim women. Apart from them, considerable numbers of women from across the border (Bangladesh) became regular correspondents. The depth of feeling expressed, the relationship affirmed and the profound gratitude declared for the simple recognition accorded by the broadcasters, revealed the extent of passionate attachment developed towards the programme. The letter writer seemed to revel in the new identity accorded to her through the mere mention of her name through the airwaves and Kalyani was the elusive golden wand that awakened life within her! A slight pique was, however, visible in the letters from across the border. They perceived 'a step motherly' attitude. The query was, being foreign listeners, were they automatically debarred from participating in the competitive sections of the programme? They never received any 'prizes', as did the Indian listeners! Yet, the attachment evinced towards the programme was profound: 'You have granted me recognition of a nature unimaginable in my life! I have a friend now and that feeling cannot be expressed through words!' The letter writer extends heartfelt invitation to all associated with the programme to visit Bangladesh in the winter. The summers and the monsoon are unbearable. By the crossing of boundaries you have accepted the other as your own, I am overwhelmed by this attitude. You have imparted undefined love, unlimited knowledge and huge entertainment. Such bestowal cannot fade away, but will be kept alive by the common heartbeats of the thousands who are similar recipients of the munificence of the programme. Like the limitless twinkling of the stars in the evening sky and the forceful rays of the sun during the daylight hours, your light will continue to shine. I will catch sight of you behind rain-drenched clouds; or you will come to me as a breath of cool fresh air on a sultry afternoon! You can never fade away! I will keep you alive with my very being! You are the lodestar of my life.1 This lengthy quote from an epistle indicates the nature of communication entered into by the women, in many instances from the Muslim community. This could well be described as a lover's note to her beloved. Similar letters from others were also to be found. The programme, for all intents, signified a person, who could be addressed in extremely individualised tones. That it was meant to be a campus broadcast falling under the initiatives for community radio was not visible from the nature of the responses. It can well be deduced that the constructed formalisms of interpersonal social communication consciously created and upheld by society, constrict the flow of such intimate feelings particularly from the female towards another person in normal social relationships. The invisibility accorded by the airwaves removed such constructed barriers. It was not the outpouring of tremendous affection finding an unforeseen, yet necessary outlet, but the simple childlike association of Kalyani with the everyday in the life of a woman ensconced in some rural hamlet that becomes fascinating. Kalyani became the 'buffer' that bore the unleashing of the pent up emotions of the writer. The very anonymity of the endeavour strengthened the voice. Many letter writers expressed that 'feelings of emptiness, of something amiss or even a nagging feeling of tremendous loss' persisted throughout the day if they somehow missed a particular broadcast. On the other hand, the voices of the teenagers were more endearing. They discussed their activities at school; of how Kalyani had become an essential part of their daily life. Even though they were often absent from home when it was aired, it was all the more exciting to receive the knowledge from a privileged listener. Sharing of the knowledge gained in the academic institution with Kalyani and vice versa, showed the keenness with which the programme was followed.2 The correspondence from the male viewers reveals other interesting positions. Simple cataloguing shows they could fall within a number of clear-cut categories. First the identity seekers -- that Kalyani offered recognition of various sorts could be perceived. Some others were very conscious that the name of the letter writer, followed by the district was not really enough to identify the person per se. The name of the village was essential, in many cases the villages were the residences of eminent litterateurs, historians or other notables, the letter writer's desire to be aligned with these persons could be observed. Second, still other letters were plainly suggestive, asking for alternative timings, nighttime broadcasts were preferred, inclusive of Sundays and Saturdays, to allow all of them to participate in it. They also desired to be a part of the broadcasters, and some expressed plaintively whether their marks would allow them admission into the Institute. A third category revealed the latent talents among the correspondents, they engaged in poetics, sent in literary pieces, shared important information and such.3 A fourth category comprised the selfproclaimed 'outsider'; in this case the pique was similar to that expressed by women hailing from a different geographical location than West Bengal. Listeners from Jharkhand and Orissa were prominent in this category. The aged lonely listener's voice was perhaps the most pathetic. Having lost all family members, there was no more any reason to live, but Kalyani embodied the hope, the reason and the motive to live! Surprising declarations from rationally thinking males! Such were the heart rending, as well as, at times, extremely bold avowals from men. The latter category however can be classified separately altogether, as 'the simply obsessed'. Kalyani could have been the elusive female they never wooed in reality. This flow of emotion was indeed surprising since the broadcasters usually were a group of men and women! The degree of obsession was indeed very evident, since this was one of the largest categories of letter writers among the males. Amidst all this outpouring of passion, grief, faith, hope, ambition and desire there was the earnest plea that the programme should not wind up. This eventuality -- of impending closure -- however, gradually dawned with increasing urgency upon the broadcasters and was duly conveyed to their huge community of listeners in West Bengal and elsewhere. The outpouring of grief and affinity was unimaginable; the information was akin to the impending demise of a loved being! Subsequently there was a surge of opinion on how to keep the programme afloat. The main reason as conveyed by the honorary secretary of the institute was pecuniary constrictions. An amount of Rs 1,200 had to be paid daily to AIR for the use of channel 'A' to broadcast the 25 minute programme and that became a burden impossible to be borne by the Institute. No financial aid was forthcoming from either the University Grants Commission or any other institution. In fact, towards the end, the broadcasters revealed their own desperation. The need for financial help was voiced quite openly. The students involved with the running of the programme collected around Rs 12,000 and that was cited everyday as an instance of the nature of help that could be rendered. To this repeated announcement of dire need for sustaining Kalyani, the response was enormous. Rural Bengal however could not sustain the programme through its monetary contributions; the surplus required for the same was simply not there. However, it was heart-rending to read that varied degrees of largesse were projected. This was in response to what the villagers had gained from the programme. A father of five daughters of marriageable age came to the institute with his offering of Rs 2,000, similarly others came forward with their mite. But despite this collective show of empathy, the programme eventually closed down. Concluding Questions Significant questions can be raised in our concluding section; one, relating to the ultimate utility of such programmes or the question of empowerment achieved; second, the extent to which autonomy is sustained at the grass roots level, particularly in areas such as broadcasting; third, does state intervention become inevitable; and fourth, associated to this, is the curbing of the flow of voices -- representing the unclasping of the flood gates of the repressed everyday -- also inevitable? After all, empowerment in common parlance relates to certain measurable indicators, visible in the fields of health, numbers passing out of educational institutions, numbers employed and so on. It connotes a degree of formalism in the output of policies; anything not consonant with such formalism is often marked redundant. The sheer volume of letters received, and the tone in which they were expressed, proclaim beyond doubt the functions the programme performed in the lives of the community of listeners built around it. There is no way of ascertaining whether the transformation many perceived while corresponding with the institute has continued over the years. Both the sexes expressed profoundly how they imbibed immense life-sustaining elements from the programme. There was a spontaneous circle of empathy realised at the individual level which government-run programmes often find hard to achieve. Set targets with set issues deny the space to the listener to project the kind of subjective upsurge visible here and in cases such as these. State intervention and the curbing of the spontaneous response from the listener becomes inevitable unless broadcast policy is rooted in greater decentralisation. Most significant of all perhaps the notion of objective, measurable indices of empowerment handed down by the World Bank has to be recast. All endeavours from the state need not have the same visible, objective impact. A quote from the radio journalist from El Salvador, Jose Lopez aptly sums up the message inherent in this study 'when women are main players in communication and not simply a pretty voice; when no type of dictatorship is tolerated' that is community radio'. The radio was used to surreptitiously draw attention of the El Salvadorians towards holistic transformation/ rebellion in society, women were not to be passive onlookers but actual participants in the change, and subsequently the oppressed people were drawn towards protest and rebellion. Our narration shows the anti-climax of this method of change or empowerment, it belies universalism of the process and sets up its own processes of intellectual cognition. Notes 1 Letter from Jihan Ashraf Tanu, 29/8/2005, Mahespur, Bangladesh. The same person, however, sends an extremely formal letter asking why her name was not announced along with others who had correctly answered the quiz questions. Letter 13/9/05. 2 Letter from Chinmaye Bhunya, Basantapur, West Medinipur, 27/8/05; AshaKarmakar, Baki, Bankura, 6/9/05 and others. 3 For instance, the letter written by Debangshu Patra, from Dangarampur village, Bankura 8/9/2005. Reference Lopez, Jose Ignacio (1977): Rebel Radio: The Story of El Salvador's Radio Venceremos Bonita Aleaz ([email protected]) teaches political science at the University of Calcutta. april 17, 2010 vol xlv no 16 EPW Economic 30 & Political Weekly http://epw.in/epw/uploads/articles/14659.pdfCommunity Radio and Empowerment Bonita Aleaz Community radio is supposed to empower the marginalised and give them a voice. Given the lack of objective outputs by which to measure the outcome, it is necessary to look at the subjective aspects of its impact. A study of short-lived community radio project in West Bengal illustrates how it became so central to the self-representation of the people and how it managed to overcome the divide between the programme and the listener. Efforts to 'empower' the marginalised sections of the country have taken well known, at the same time, circuitous routes. During the debate surrounding broadcast policy in India (2007) attention was drawn towards the multifarious uses of 'community radio' not only as a means of communicating location-specific information for development of the communities/areas but also in eliciting the elusive voices of the marginalised, specially the women. The Institute of Mass Communication Film and Television Studies of the University of Kalyani started a radio programme 'Kalyani' under the government's communication policy which allowed universities to run radio programmes for the benefit of rural masses. The programme ran for almost a whole year from December 2004- September 2005. Even though the policy on community radio of the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting was brought into effect in 2006, the programme launched by the Institute actually preceded the policy itself. The intention was to run the programme in such a way that a 'community of listeners' would automatically build around it. The rector/honorary secretary of the institute, Shyamal Sengupta (interviewed 2 April 2008) described in great detail the objectives behind the broadcast venture. The erstwhile vice chancellor of Kalyani University, Nityananda Saha and his successor Alok Banerjee were the prime movers behind the endeavour. The objective was to engage the students, affiliated with the department of mass communications, with a radio programme to be aired through All India Radio (AIR). It was meant to build up a relationship with rural dwellers, shape the programme in accordance with their requests, give voice to their pent up desires, and provide a platform to people who are otherwise invisible and without any means of public expression. Kalyani, thus became a 25-minute programme running for five days in a week, aired in the afternoon at 2.00 pm, a time when people in the rural areas normally broke off for a midday rest. Opening Closed Doors 'Andarer pasra khulte pare' (idiomatic use which loosely translates as 'knowledge/ information of the inner world will come out') was the vision behind the venture. For this purpose a larger repertoire of responses from the listeners was gradually built into the programme. The people were encouraged to write in, not only in response to the programme, but on anything they wished to share. Surprising intellectual content was revealed in the letters received. Remote villages housed individuals very familiar with obscure English poets and their works. Similarly, a wealth of knowledge regarding herbicides, herb related cures, environmental degradation, water management and other extremely useful information was provided by the villagers through regular letters to the institute. A novel feature observed after a few weeks of the running of the programme was the connectivity developed between the villages -- the programme was used to convey information sought by people dwelling in one village, by the people from other) villages writing in. The programme organisers became merely the medium facilitating such interconnectivity. It became truly 'community radio'. The audience ranged from schoolchildren to retired people. Women unexpectedly turned out to be the most avid listeners of the programme. The nature of their letters revealed the multifarious forms of involvement they experienced with the programme. Above all, the most noticeable feature was the intense appropriation and subjective alignment professed by the listeners. To the listeners the programme came to symbolise a person named Kalyani with whom they could communicate on a no-holds barred basis. The institute readied the entire programme for each day at its precincts, copied it into a disk and sent to the AIR, Kolkata for broadcast through its channel A at the appropriate time. It was possible for this researcher to gain access to almost all the CDs with the programmes broadcast throughout 2005. The discs being too numerous to analyse in detail here, only a bird's eye view of the contents is provided, which should help to evaluate the listener responses given later. The responses raise questions as to how a programme meant to be an objective informative community radio broadcast is appropriated and gradually symbolises a person towards whom passionate attachment is evinced. Structure of the Programme The programme each day started with a jingle eulogising the university's effort at dissemination of knowledge; this was followed by a short reading by the rector named 'thought for the day' (diner bhabna). It comprised quotes usually from Tagore; quite often this set the mood for the rest of the programme. For instance the programme broadcast on 15 August 2005, started with Tagore's 'He durbhagya Desh' (O unfortunate country') Similarly on the festival of rakhi on 19 August 2005 the focus was on the festival itself with a line from Tagore. Diner Bhabna was followed by the quiz Mritunjayee. It was a historical quiz component where the listeners were provided with at least three clues symbolising a particular person in history, Indian or global. The listeners were asked to identify the person. This gradually became the most popular component since the listeners answered the quiz with the sole objective of hearing their names over the air if they answered correctly. One person was promised a prize from among the correct respondents, provided the person's name was selected by a lottery. It gradually became evident from the letters that the idea of being categorised among the prize-winners was evidently more significant than the prize itself, quite often those lodged in extremely remote villages never received their prizes, but there was no remorse whatsoever! The nature of the questions asked in the slot Mritunjayee was surprising indeed! For instance the programme on the 16 August 2005 gave the following clues: (a) the person was the editor of the Bengali Patrika, (b) authored A Nation in the Making, and (c) since 1918, the person was a member of the moderate party. These were surely intended for the educated sections of society, and not the disempowered, underprivileged villagers. The response rate was remarkable, 31 people responded to the questions broadcast on 16 August and 50 for the one broadcast on 17 August. Significantly, a majority of the answers sent were correct. Kalyani, in course of a single year, managed to build up a reputation for being an extremely informative educational programme. Apart from the quiz, various other innovative features had been tried out, such as giving listeners a story line and asking them to complete it. Quite often certain historical luminaries were remembered in the section entitled Sarania/barania and unusual or little-known facts from their lives were narrated. Tagore's eulogy of the act of tying the rakhi and the festival, Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar's fascination and later cultivation of homeopathy, excerpts from the life of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose, were among the topics in this section. These narrations took up a significant portion of the programme. The main component of the programme was thus intensely integrative, information relating to episodes on nation-building and those involved with the same seemed to be the motive. If one had to be empowered, both the ideology and the role models were clear. Love Letters On an average about 35 to 50 letters were received every day. It was possible to salvage around 500 letters for evaluation purposes from the thousands that lay in the library of the institute. Most of the letters were damaged by seepage of rain water. It was difficult to say whether easy questions elicited the most response or the difficult ones; apart from the response to quiz or general history based questions, there were questions on literature and on the media. A sample of letters from female listeners shows through limited use of words, the efforts to convey a whole wealth of feelings and perceptions was manifest. Most surprising is the number of letters received from Bengali Muslim women from the districts around Kolkata. At least 30% of the letters were from women and of them another 35% were from Muslim women. Apart from them, considerable numbers of women from across the border (Bangladesh) became regular correspondents. The depth of feeling expressed, the relationship affirmed and the profound gratitude declared for the simple recognition accorded by the broadcasters, revealed the extent of passionate attachment developed towards the programme. The letter writer seemed to revel in the new identity accorded to her through the mere mention of her name through the airwaves and Kalyani was the elusive golden wand that awakened life within her! A slight pique was, however, visible in the letters from across the border. They perceived 'a step motherly' attitude. The query was, being foreign listeners, were they automatically debarred from participating in the competitive sections of the programme? They never received any 'prizes', as did the Indian listeners! Yet, the attachment evinced towards the programme was profound: 'You have granted me recognition of a nature unimaginable in my life! I have a friend now and that feeling cannot be expressed through words!' The letter writer extends heartfelt invitation to all associated with the programme to visit Bangladesh in the winter. The summers and the monsoon are unbearable. By the crossing of boundaries you have accepted the other as your own, I am overwhelmed by this attitude. You have imparted undefined love, unlimited knowledge and huge entertainment. Such bestowal cannot fade away, but will be kept alive by the common heartbeats of the thousands who are similar recipients of the munificence of the programme. Like the limitless twinkling of the stars in the evening sky and the forceful rays of the sun during the daylight hours, your light will continue to shine. I will catch sight of you behind rain-drenched clouds; or you will come to me as a breath of cool fresh air on a sultry afternoon! You can never fade away! I will keep you alive with my very being! You are the lodestar of my life.1 This lengthy quote from an epistle indicates the nature of communication entered into by the women, in many instances from the Muslim community. This could well be described as a lover's note to her beloved. Similar letters from others were also to be found. The programme, for all intents, signified a person, who could be addressed in extremely individualised tones. That it was meant to be a campus broadcast falling under the initiatives for community radio was not visible from the nature of the responses. It can well be deduced that the constructed formalisms of interpersonal social communication consciously created and upheld by society, constrict the flow of such intimate feelings particularly from the female towards another person in normal social relationships. The invisibility accorded by the airwaves removed such constructed barriers. It was not the outpouring of tremendous affection finding an unforeseen, yet necessary outlet, but the simple childlike association of Kalyani with the everyday in the life of a woman ensconced in some rural hamlet that becomes fascinating. Kalyani became the 'buffer' that bore the unleashing of the pent up emotions of the writer. The very anonymity of the endeavour strengthened the voice. Many letter writers expressed that 'feelings of emptiness, of something amiss or even a nagging feeling of tremendous loss' persisted throughout the day if they somehow missed a particular broadcast. On the other hand, the voices of the teenagers were more endearing. They discussed their activities at school; of how Kalyani had become an essential part of their daily life. Even though they were often absent from home when it was aired, it was all the more exciting to receive the knowledge from a privileged listener. Sharing of the knowledge gained in the academic institution with Kalyani and vice versa, showed the keenness with which the programme was followed.2 The correspondence from the male viewers reveals other interesting positions. Simple cataloguing shows they could fall within a number of clear-cut categories. First the identity seekers -- that Kalyani offered recognition of various sorts could be perceived. Some others were very conscious that the name of the letter writer, followed by the district was not really enough to identify the person per se. The name of the village was essential, in many cases the villages were the residences of eminent litterateurs, historians or other notables, the letter writer's desire to be aligned with these persons could be observed. Second, still other letters were plainly suggestive, asking for alternative timings, nighttime broadcasts were preferred, inclusive of Sundays and Saturdays, to allow all of them to participate in it. They also desired to be a part of the broadcasters, and some expressed plaintively whether their marks would allow them admission into the Institute. A third category revealed the latent talents among the correspondents, they engaged in poetics, sent in literary pieces, shared important information and such.3 A fourth category comprised the selfproclaimed 'outsider'; in this case the pique was similar to that expressed by women hailing from a different geographical location than West Bengal. Listeners from Jharkhand and Orissa were prominent in this category. The aged lonely listener's voice was perhaps the most pathetic. Having lost all family members, there was no more any reason to live, but Kalyani embodied the hope, the reason and the motive to live! Surprising declarations from rationally thinking males! Such were the heart rending, as well as, at times, extremely bold avowals from men. The latter category however can be classified separately altogether, as 'the simply obsessed'. Kalyani could have been the elusive female they never wooed in reality. This flow of emotion was indeed surprising since the broadcasters usually were a group of men and women! The degree of obsession was indeed very evident, since this was one of the largest categories of letter writers among the males. Amidst all this outpouring of passion, grief, faith, hope, ambition and desire there was the earnest plea that the programme should not wind up. This eventuality -- of impending closure -- however, gradually dawned with increasing urgency upon the broadcasters and was duly conveyed to their huge community of listeners in West Bengal and elsewhere. The outpouring of grief and affinity was unimaginable; the information was akin to the impending demise of a loved being! Subsequently there was a surge of opinion on how to keep the programme afloat. The main reason as conveyed by the honorary secretary of the institute was pecuniary constrictions. An amount of Rs 1,200 had to be paid daily to AIR for the use of channel 'A' to broadcast the 25 minute programme and that became a burden impossible to be borne by the Institute. No financial aid was forthcoming from either the University Grants Commission or any other institution. In fact, towards the end, the broadcasters revealed their own desperation. The need for financial help was voiced quite openly. The students involved with the running of the programme collected around Rs 12,000 and that was cited everyday as an instance of the nature of help that could be rendered. To this repeated announcement of dire need for sustaining Kalyani, the response was enormous. Rural Bengal however could not sustain the programme through its monetary contributions; the surplus required for the same was simply not there. However, it was heart-rending to read that varied degrees of largesse were projected. This was in response to what the villagers had gained from the programme. A father of five daughters of marriageable age came to the institute with his offering of Rs 2,000, similarly others came forward with their mite. But despite this collective show of empathy, the programme eventually closed down. Concluding Questions Significant questions can be raised in our concluding section; one, relating to the ultimate utility of such programmes or the question of empowerment achieved; second, the extent to which autonomy is sustained at the grass roots level, particularly in areas such as broadcasting; third, does state intervention become inevitable; and fourth, associated to this, is the curbing of the flow of voices -- representing the unclasping of the flood gates of the repressed everyday -- also inevitable? After all, empowerment in common parlance relates to certain measurable indicators, visible in the fields of health, numbers passing out of educational institutions, numbers employed and so on. It connotes a degree of formalism in the output of policies; anything not consonant with such formalism is often marked redundant. The sheer volume of letters received, and the tone in which they were expressed, proclaim beyond doubt the functions the programme performed in the lives of the community of listeners built around it. There is no way of ascertaining whether the transformation many perceived while corresponding with the institute has continued over the years. Both the sexes expressed profoundly how they imbibed immense life-sustaining elements from the programme. There was a spontaneous circle of empathy realised at the individual level which government-run programmes often find hard to achieve. Set targets with set issues deny the space to the listener to project the kind of subjective upsurge visible here and in cases such as these. State intervention and the curbing of the spontaneous response from the listener becomes inevitable unless broadcast policy is rooted in greater decentralisation. Most significant of all perhaps the notion of objective, measurable indices of empowerment handed down by the World Bank has to be recast. All endeavours from the state need not have the same visible, objective impact. A quote from the radio journalist from El Salvador, Jose Lopez aptly sums up the message inherent in this study 'when women are main players in communication and not simply a pretty voice; when no type of dictatorship is tolerated' that is community radio'. The radio was used to surreptitiously draw attention of the El Salvadorians towards holistic transformation/ rebellion in society, women were not to be passive onlookers but actual participants in the change, and subsequently the oppressed people were drawn towards protest and rebellion. Our narration shows the anti-climax of this method of change or empowerment, it belies universalism of the process and sets up its own processes of intellectual cognition. Notes 1 Letter from Jihan Ashraf Tanu, 29/8/2005, Mahespur, Bangladesh. The same person, however, sends an extremely formal letter asking why her name was not announced along with others who had correctly answered the quiz questions. Letter 13/9/05. 2 Letter from Chinmaye Bhunya, Basantapur, West Medinipur, 27/8/05; AshaKarmakar, Baki, Bankura, 6/9/05 and others. 3 For instance, the letter written by Debangshu Patra, from Dangarampur village, Bankura 8/9/2005. Reference Lopez, Jose Ignacio (1977): Rebel Radio: The Story of El Salvador's Radio Venceremos Bonita Aleaz ([email protected]) teaches political science at the University of Calcutta. april 17, 2010 vol xlv no 16 EPW Economic 30 & Political Weekly http://epw.in/epw/uploads/articles/14659.pdf Frederick Noronha Books from Goa :: http://goa1556.goa-india.org Big chickens don't peck at small seeds. -- Chinese proverb. If the fight is tomorrow, why then clench your fist today? -- Proverb from Cameroon A lazy man will be an astrologer. -- Arabian proverb. On 25 April 2010 13:49, Sriram Kannekanti <[email protected]> wrote: > Dear friends, > > One interesting article publisehd in Economic and Political Weekly (EPW) > current issue. > > Please click http://epw.in/epw/uploads/articles/14659.pdf > > Regards, > > Sriram > > > > > > > > Join the Community Radio Forum. For membership details, please go to > www.crforum.in > Join the Community Radio Forum. For membership details, please go to www.crforum.in
