THE fundamental question is: Why should Delhi be accorded the status of being the cultural capital of India? After all, the civilization, of which Delhi is a part, has a pan-Indian footprint. The antiquity, refinement, continuity, assimilation and diversity of this civilization has never been one-city centric, or even confined to cities per se. Besides, even if we were to consider one city to be a claimant to the ‘cultural capital’ status, several other cities could legitimately be in the reckoning.

For instance, why can we not think of Kolkata where, unlike Delhi, culture actually spills over into a way of life and is a visible living entity. Or, for that matter, Chennai. Here too, culture is not confined to select venues and theatres. It is something people live on a daily basis. In fact, during the winter season, Chennai has a celebration of the arts which is both spontaneous and vast in scope, with people lining up to buy tickets to watch leading artists. Jaipur, which now is the venue of Asia’s largest literary festival, the Jaipur Literary Festival, and has a definitive culture of its own, could also be a claimant, as could Thiruvananthapuram and, increasingly now, Bangalore.

It is also a moot point whether cities which are political capitals must necessarily also be the cultural hubs. Certainly, this is not so for cities in other areas. Mumbai is regarded as the financial capital of India, not Delhi. Bangalore is accepted to be the IT capital of India, not Delhi. The states of Goa, Rajasthan and Kerala enjoy a primacy in attracting tourists which Delhi cannot match. In many other countries too this dichotomy of roles is an accepted fact. In Russia, Moscow is the capital, but few would contest that the status of being the cultural icon of the country must go to St. Petersburg. The Hermitage alone would justify such a claim.

The character and profile of Delhi has also morphed much too rapidly to give it the required cultural gravitas. From a city whose periphery collapsed at the ramparts of the old city till as recently as 1911, it has grown to include New Delhi, South Delhi, West Delhi, East Delhi and south of South Delhi. From a population of less than one lakh in 1911, the city has now the country’s largest population, exceeding 22 million. It has spilled across the Yamuna in the east, and encompasses all of Gurgaon in the south.

Such a hothouse and exponential expansion has hardly given the city time to pause. In its march towards ad hoc growth, it has ingested entire villages along the way, thereby creating a cultural mix that is neither stable nor homogenous. The city of Shahjahanabad, although small, had a definitive culture which could be inferred from what the people ate, what they wore, how they spoke, and even their sense of humour. This no longer applies to a Delhi which is now referred to as the National Capital Region (NCR). In fact, there must be few cities in the world where this degree of expansion has happened in the space of a hundred years.

As against all these reasons, the one undisputed fact that makes Delhi different is that it is the capital of the modern Indian Republic. This profile of the city is not an artificial construct. For centuries, New Delhi was the political capital of several dynasties, not the least the great Mughuls. For a short while, during British rule, the political focus shifted to Kolkata. But even the British needed to reinforce their political legitimacy by moving the capital to Delhi.

 

The emergence of New Delhi as the capital of an independent India did have a transforming impact on its cultural status. A capital becomes a focal point to reflect and coordinate national endeavour; it is the source of power, and the seat of decision making. The impulses that it generates reverberate across the nation. This can be seen in the field of culture too. Most of the country’s apex cultural institutions are based in New Delhi. The Ministry of Culture is here; its principal organs such as the Lalit Kala Akademi, Sangeet Natak Akademi and the Sahitya Akademi are based in New Delhi. The National Gallery of Modern Art, the National School of Drama, the National Book Trust, and the National Archives are also based here. The principal organization for the implementation of cultural diplomacy, the Indian Council for Cultural Relations, too functions from the capital.

As a result of this disproportionate accretion of power, Delhi has increasingly become an irreplaceable magnet for artists. Creative people in almost all areas of artistic expression – be it music, theatre, the plastic arts, dance and literature – consider their career graph incomplete unless they have made an impact in Delhi, which provides the most powerful stage for international recognition and further promotion.

Another aspect of Delhi is its increasingly cosmopolitan profile. Until 1947, Delhi was more or less akin to a provincial city. It consisted of its original inhabitants, those who had roots in the old city, as also the handful for whom it had become home because of their political or bureaucratic positions. Even though it had become the capital, it had the characteristics of a small city, presided over by an incestuous club of politicians and bureaucrats and old world money.

 

The first significant change came following the partition in 1947. Hoards of refugees descended on Delhi and moved into makeshift camps to begin a new life with the capital as their home. The city’s population grew dramatically and, given the region from which the refugees had come, gave the city a Punjabi predominance. However, over the years this has changed. Punjabis still constitute the majority in Delhi, but people from all parts of India also consider it their home. This too was a consequence of New Delhi being the political capital of the country. People from the South were posted in the expanding bureaucratic structure. Others migrated because of the expanding opportunities of a rapidly growing city. In course of time, Delhi began to reflect significant segments of all communities across India. This ‘melting pot’ character of the city naturally strengthened its profile for representing all of India in its cultural profile.

As the capital of India, Delhi also became the first port of call for the international cultural circuit. Any nation sending an artist, or a cultural troupe, to India sought to perform in New Delhi because they rightly reckoned that a performance or exhibition elsewhere would not make the same nationwide impact. From the very beginning, Jawaharlal Nehru and Maulana Abdul Kalam Azad believed that India should play an important role in the area of cultural diplomacy. The instruments to implement this decision were based in Delhi, especially in the apex Ministry of Culture and in ICCR. Delhi, therefore, became the most pre-eminent stage for greater international cultural interaction, eclipsing other cities which could perhaps have had a similar claim.

 

But this being said, it is equally important to remember that no city can claim to be a cultural capital by default, and only for reasons which are a consequence of its status as the political capital. A city to be a cultural capital must develop the infrastructure for its cultural pre-eminence, and on this count Delhi woefully fails to qualify. It is a matter of shame that New Delhi has no auditorium of international standards. The ageing Siri Fort Auditorium lacks the technological accessories and facilities which are an essential part of any modern auditorium. It even lacks a proper green room.

One has only to see the complexes that have come up in Beijing or Singapore or in any European city to understand how substandard is the infrastructure we have on offer. I had personal experience of this as the Director General of ICCR when we had to host a large number of cultural delegations coming from abroad. They were usually appalled at the primitive facilities of Siri Fort. I recall that when the Days of Russian Culture were being celebrated, and the Russian President was to flag off the event at Siri Fort along with our Rashtrapatiji, a tent had to be set up outside the Siri Fort in order to provide a reasonably decent venue for the dignitaries to be received. In contrast, I have just returned form Singapore where I had gone to do a reading with noted poet Gulzar, and the facilities and technical excellence of the Opera Hall at the Esplanade left me wondering at how much more our capital needs to do.

Apart from lacking a major performance venue, New Delhi also lacks an integrated conference-cum-performance destination. Most cities which seek to place themselves on the cultural map of the world have more than one such venue, consisting of several auditoriums of different sizes and a multiplicity of conference rooms, equipped to host a multidimensional cultural and intellectual gathering. Perhaps Vigyan Bhawan somewhat approximates such a venue, but it is largely restricted to official meetings, and encrusted with a plethora of security barriers.

 

Delhi is also conspicuous for the absence of any major international cultural festival. Several smaller events do take place, but surely the capital city of a country whose civilization goes back to the dawn of time should be the venue of several annual events of an international character. We have classical dance forms thousands of years old, but no international dance festival of any significance happens in Delhi. We have music which has evolved since before the birth of Christ, but no international music festival takes place in Delhi. We have the National School of Drama, now established for half a century, but it is not the venue of a major international theatre festival. We have over twenty developed languages, and now consider ourselves to be a major hub of English publishing, but no literary festival of any consequence is held in Delhi. The largest literary festival in India takes place in Jaipur, and the venue of our lacklustre International Film Festival is Goa. The Delhi International Arts Festival is a more recent development, but is still fledgling and ad hoc, and seriously short of funds.

 

Culture is also about a certain mindset. It requires people to be porous to creativity and inclined towards its multifaceted expression. Such a mindset is, however, a rarity in the mindless bureaucratic maze of our official cultural establishment. Often babus with no experience of, or interest in, culture are charged with making decisions and taking initiatives in this exceptionally sensitive area. Professionals with the required specialization in specific areas of culture rarely get an opportunity to run major government cultural institutions.

For instance, the National Museum in the capital still comes nowhere close to international standards in the display of its invaluable artefacts. Some of its most precious pieces are dumped in godowns; a musty odour of bureaucratese hangs over the establishment. The galleries are conspicuous for the absence of even basic technology, such as user friendly touch screens for visitors. There are no readable catalogues, and only recently has an attractive souvenir shop come up. Not surprisingly, the National Museum gets approximately 30,000 visitors annually, whereas those visiting the Louvre in Paris or the Tate Gallery in London exceeds a million, that too at a hefty entrance ticket.

The absence of a culture oriented mindset is also visible in the fact that the capital of India has almost no streets or squares named after artists. Any major city across the world which is proud of its cultural heritage, does. In New Delhi, most streets are named after politicians or historical figures. One minor street is named after Tansen; another almost insignificant alleyway is named after Kaifi Azmi, largely because, I think, of the pressure put on decision makers by his influential daughter, Shabana Azmi.

As one of the founders of the Ghalib Society, I am personally aware that not so long ago Ghalib’s haveli in old Delhi was the venue of a coal vendor and a kabariwalla! It took a citizen’s movement working with the government to partially reclaim the haveli, but even now there are stories of it being misused, and nothing happens within it except for the candlelit march some of us organize every year on the eve of Ghalib’s birth anniversary. The city of London has a ‘blue plaque’ to recall any home where a famous poet, writer or artist lived. Delhi, by contrast, has residents who live in Hauz Khas and do not know who built it, or people staying in Safdarjung who have no clue who he was.

 

On balance, therefore, I feel that while Delhi has emerged as the cultural capital of India, much more needs to be done to justify this status. Of course, there have been some positive developments in the recent past. A new cultural district has developed around the India International Centre on Lodhi Road and the adjacent India Habitat Centre. The Mandi House roundabout, with several auditoria and galleries, is also an active cultural hub. But the challenge for Delhi is to qualitatively invest in its cultural profile and create both the mindset and infrastructure that are necessary for any city that seeks to become a significant cultural stage, both within the country and internationally.