Basant ban: A blow to Lahore's culture and economic growth

“I don’t understand why Basant is banned in Lahore but not elsewhere in Punjab. Basant and kite flying are in the blood of Lahoris. Our ancestors, including Allama Iqbal, celebrated it too.”

These words from Mian Yousaf Salahuddin, a prominent philanthropist and socialite, capture the frustration of many Lahoris who long for the festival’s return. Known for introducing Basant to foreign dignitaries, Salahuddin’s sentiment reflects a deeper sense of loss. With the ban in place, Lahore remains deprived of one of its most cherished traditions.

For decades, Basant has been an integral part of Lahore’s cultural fabric, a symbol of joy, unity, and the changing season. However, the festival has been absent for over 20 years due to a government-imposed ban. Every year, Lahore residents find themselves asking, “Will there be Basant this year?” Unfortunately, this year, the answer is once again no, as the provincial government of Punjab has re-imposed the ban on kite flying, accompanied by hefty fines and strict penalties.

The tradition and the problem

Basant, with its colorful kites and joyous rooftops, was more than just a festival—it was a part of Lahore’s identity. According to Yousaf Salauddin, even Allama Iqbal, the iconic philosopher-poet, relished the tradition, once even receiving a specially designed kite to protect his hands from injury. Yet, for more than two decades, the skies above Lahore have remained empty during this iconic festival.

The issue, according to Advocate Khalid Zafar, who has been advocating for the revival of Basant for over 15 years, isn't the celebration itself but the dangerous consequences that arose in the wake of commercialization. After Pakistan's successful nuclear tests in 1998, the government embraced Basant as a national event to promote a positive image of the country amidst international sanctions. However, the introduction of thick chemical-coated threads during Basant competitions led to tragic accidents and fatalities. This commercialized approach is one of the key factors that led to the eventual ban.

Another major consequence of the ban has been the economic fallout for those involved in the kite-making industry, most of whom are home-based workers, many of them women. According to a study by Homenet Pakistan, 90 percent of home-based workers were women, who lost their only source of income after the ban was imposed. The results have been devastating: families, particularly women, faced severe economic hardship, leading some to resort to desperate measures to survive.

Home-based women workers craft kites at home. According to the Homenet study, 90% of the kite-making industry is made up of women in the informal sector.Homenet Pakistan

Ustad Javed Bhatti, a former kite maker, described the dire situation: “The whole families were left without work. Men turned to serious crimes like robbery, and women had no choice but to resort to prostitution.” The financial impact on these families has been both profound and tragic.

Lost economic opportunities

Basant, while a cultural celebration, was also an economic powerhouse. Local vendors, restaurants, and kite-makers thrived during the festival, generating millions in revenue. Salauddin explained, “We could have generated millions of dollars from this two-day event. The festival was also recognized by the government, and without spending a dime, they made substantial income from the festivities.”

Before the ban, the festival was estimated to generate around 2 billion rupees. In comparison, India’s kite festival has generated 75 billion rupees in recent years. As Shakeel Sheikh, a senior member of the Safe Kite Flying Association, puts it: “Unfortunately, we’ve lost all of that, while our neighbor is reaping massive economic benefits.”

Seeking Solutions

The question remains: Can Basant ever return to Lahore? It appears that the government and lawmakers remain hesitant to tackle this issue. Advocates like Zafar argue that the government can certainly control Basant festivities in a safe and organized manner. “You can shut down Lahore during international cricket matches, but you can’t manage traffic for just two days during Basant?” he asks.

Some proposed solutions could help bring the festival back in a controlled manner. For instance, one suggestion is to allocate a specific venue for kite-flying competitions outside the city to limit traffic and safety concerns. In addition, experts recommend that the thickness of kite-flying threads be regulated by PSCIR laboratories, and that only registered thread makers be allowed to manufacture the threads. Another suggestion is to place protective rods on motorbikes to prevent accidents.

Despite these suggestions, government officials have shown little interest in engaging with those advocating for Basant’s revival. Repeated efforts by Nukta to reach out to Punjab's Information Minister, Azma Bukhari, for comment were unsuccessful, leaving many to wonder whether the government is serious about finding a solution.

The future of Basant

Basant is more than just a festival, it is an essential part of Lahore’s culture, history, and identity. The ban on kite flying has not only deprived the city of its joy and energy but has also resulted in significant economic losses and hardship for the people involved in the kite industry.

As the debate continues, the question remains: Will Lahore ever see Basant in the skies again? Only time will tell. However, for now, Lahoris can only hold onto their memories of a time when the air was filled with kites, music, and the spirit of celebration.