By : Vasatika Saraswat

Abstract

Dhaka Muslin, once the pinnacle of luxury and craftsmanship, is more than a forgotten textile—it is a symbol of imperial plunder and now, a potent instrument of cultural reclamation. Woven from the rare Phuti karpas cotton along Bengal’s riverbanks, Muslin was celebrated across imperial courts from the Mughals to the Ottomans to Victorian Europe. Its erasure under British colonial rule was not merely economic but cultural—an intentional dismantling of Bengal’s symbolic power. Today, its revival is not just about artisanal pride or textile nostalgia. It represents Bangladesh’s emerging soft power project, where heritage becomes diplomacy, identity becomes resistance, and traditional craft becomes international strategy. In aligning Muslin’s resurgence with sustainable luxury, decolonial discourse, and cultural branding, Bangladesh is positioning itself in new global hierarchies of prestige. This article explores how the Muslin revival can reshape Bangladesh’s international image and reclaim cultural sovereignty within global politics.

Muslin: The Forgotten Cultural Masterpiece

Muslin was more than just a fabric; it represented a rich cultural heritage and served as an economic powerhouse, forging connections between Bengal and international fashion markets. Esteemed for its ethereal quality and exceptionally fine texture, Dhaka Muslin became the epitome of luxury during the Mughal era. The 17th-century French traveller Jean-Baptiste Tavernier vividly described the cloth as so transparent that it often seemed to vanish from view. The skilled artisans of Bengal had mastered the intricate technique of spinning ultra-fine yarns, achieving an astonishing thread count of over 300 to 500 threads per inch—an accomplishment that European looms of the period could not replicate. This exquisite textile dominated extensive trade routes, reaching destinations as far-flung as Rome, China, and Arabia, and later gained immense popularity in British and French fashion circles. Unfortunately, by the late 1800s, Dhaka Muslin faded from prominence, leaving behind not only captivating stories and artefacts housed in museums but also the poignant remnants of its illustrious legacy. Muslin was crafted from the cotton variety Gossypium arboreum var. neglecta, locally known as Phuti karpas. This particular plant thrived exclusively along the fertile and humid riverbanks of the Meghna River delta, requiring specific soil types and microclimatic conditions to flourish. The harvesting process was meticulously labour-intensive; the cotton fibres had to be delicately plucked by hand to avoid any damage to their fragile structure. After ginning, the fibres were spun into incredibly fine threads using a traditional charkha (spinning wheel), a technique that highlights artisans’ skill and patience. Weaving took place on pit looms, often during the cooler hours of early dawn or under the silvery light of the moon to mitigate the risk of humidity or heat snapping the fragile threads. The artisans, inheriting their craft through generations, employed sophisticated techniques such as the jamdani weaving style, now recognized as a UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage. Yet, traditional Muslin was even more refined than jamdani, boasting a texture so exquisitely fine that a six-yard sari could seamlessly pass through a signet ring, demonstrating the remarkable artistry and craftsmanship inherent in this legendary textile.

The Colonial Decline and Exploitation Project

The decline of Muslin was not a mere coincidence; instead, it stemmed from a deliberate and systematic overhaul of the colonial economy imposed by the British. After the British East India Company established its dominance over Bengal following the pivotal Battle of Plassey in 1757, it initiated policies that favoured British-manufactured textiles at the expense of Indigenous production. This was accomplished through a series of restrictive trade measures, including prohibitive export duties on Indian textiles and the imposition of tariffs that facilitated the unhindered import of British textiles into the Indian market. The local weavers, once thriving artisans of a distinguished craft, found themselves systematically disempowered. While popular folklore recounts tales of British agents resorting to brutal tactics like amputating the thumbs of weavers to incapacitate production, the historical consensus points to a more nuanced form of economic strangulation. This included burdensome taxation policies, coercive labour practices that exploited artisans, and the orchestrated disruption of traditional supply chains. Such methods effectively dismantled a vibrant industry that once celebrated creativity and skill.

Simultaneously, the highly prized Phuti karpas cotton, essential for Muslin production, faced obliteration during this period. The British colonial agronomic policies dramatically shifted focus towards cash crops such as jute and indigo, which aligned more profitably with the colonial agenda. Consequently, the cultivation of Phuti karpas dwindled to the point of total cessation by the late 1800s. This obliteration severed the material foundation of the Muslin industry, leading to an irreversible loss of a unique textile heritage.

The disappearance of Muslin represented a significant blow to Bengal’s cultural identity. For centuries, this exquisite fabric not only adorned the bodies of royalty but also embodied the rich tapestry of local pride, artisan innovation, and a harmonious relationship with the environment. The extinction of Muslin signified the disintegration of a complex ecosystem that intertwined farmers, dyers, spinners, weavers, and merchants into a cohesive fabric of economic and cultural life. Without systematic documentation and preservation efforts, the intricate techniques that defined Muslin production have faded into obscurity. This loss extends beyond mere economic implications; it signifies a substantial epistemic void in the collective knowledge and heritage of the Bengali people.

The British suppression of Muslin was not merely a consequence of market forces, but rather a calculated act of cultural economic warfare. By dismantling the Muslin economy, the British effectively disarmed Bengal of a crucial form of soft power—its ability to shape global taste, identity, and aesthetics. Therefore, the narrative of Muslin’s decline illustrates how cultural heritage, when unprotected by sovereignty, becomes vulnerable to exploitation and erasure.

Searching for Lost Heritage: Revival Efforts

In 2014, the government of Bangladesh initiated the Muslin Revival Project, spearheaded by the Bangladesh Handloom Board. This ambitious endeavour brought together a team of scientists, botanists, and textile experts who embarked on an extensive quest to identify the elusive Phuti karpas, the raw material essential for authentic Muslin production. Utilizing advanced DNA testing techniques and comprehensive comparisons of cotton samples from around the world, researchers meticulously gleaned insights from preserved Muslin fragments housed in illustrious institutions such as the Victoria & Albert Museum and the Musée des Tissus, which held invaluable relics of the art form. To facilitate the cultivation of this rare cotton species, controlled agricultural practices were established in regions near the Meghna River, emulating the environmental conditions that would have existed during the golden age of Muslin production. 

This meticulous approach yielded promising results, as the revived Phuti karpas demonstrated remarkable potential in generating exceptionally fine fibres, capable of forming ultra-thin threads critical for high-quality Muslin textiles. Alongside the botanical advancements, a crucial focus was directed towards the preservation and revitalization of artisanal weaving skills. With only a limited number of master weavers possessing fragmentary knowledge of traditional Muslin weaving techniques, the project involved recruiting these skilled artisans to impart their expertise to a new generation of weavers in the historic towns of Narayanganj and Sonargaon. Modern textile researchers collaborated closely with these artisans to reconstruct historical looms and weaving processes that had long been forgotten. To ensure the authenticity and quality of the fabrics produced, yarn count assessments were conducted using high-resolution microscopy, meticulously aligning with the revered standards of archival Muslin. By 2020, the project had successfully produced a remarkable 400-count sari, which garnered widespread recognition as a quintessential example of authentic Muslin, reflecting both its superior quality and adherence to traditional weaving techniques.

The revival of Muslin has reestablished Bangladesh as a vital guardian of a rich textile heritage that spans centuries. Recent exhibitions in key cities like Dhaka, Tokyo, and London have showcased the remarkable craftsmanship behind newly woven Muslin garments, blending traditional techniques with innovative designs. This renewed interest has caught the eye of major international fashion houses, eager to include Muslin in their collections, thanks to its unique qualities that resonate with the principles of slow fashion and sustainable luxury. In addition to this revival, the efforts to claim UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage status for Dhaka Muslin, aimed to complement the recognition already granted to jamdani weaving for its cultural importance. Achieving this designation would not only provide global protection but also unlock funding opportunities to support ongoing research, preservation initiatives, and the livelihoods of artisan communities.

The Architecture of Cultural Diplomacy

While the revival focuses on scientific and artisanal approaches, it also fits into a broader strategy of cultural diplomacy. The exhibitions in Tokyo, London, and Dhaka are far from random; they serve as geopolitical statements. These events give Bangladesh a chance to reaffirm its place in global circles of artisanal prestige, previously dominated by narratives from Euro-American and East Asian regions. Muslin is also becoming a tool of South-South cooperation, as Bangladesh initiates dialogues with nations like Indonesia, Egypt, and Nigeria on de-colonial heritage revival. By positioning Muslin as an ethical alternative to fast fashion, the Bangladeshi state is aligning itself with discourses of slow luxury, sustainable craft, and postcolonial ethical consumption. This gives the country symbolic capital that far exceeds its material GDP—a form of reputational power.

Efforts to gain UNESCO recognition for Dhaka Muslin (distinct from jamdani) also serve dual purposes: heritage protection and international status enhancement. UNESCO status transforms Muslin from a craft into a globally certified marker of national identity, creating pathways for foreign funding, tourism diplomacy, and institutional legitimacy. Though Bangladesh lacks the military-industrial heft of regional giants, it is increasingly turning to non-coercive tools of influence. Muslin serves as one of the most evocative examples of this shift. In a time when soft power currencies like heritage, memory, and identity are being weaponized across the globe—from Russia’s Orthodox revivals to China’s Silk Road mythmaking—Bangladesh is reviving Muslin not just to remember, but to compete.

By branding itself as the rightful custodian of this lost heritage, Bangladesh is asserting historical legitimacy and crafting a geopolitical narrative of cultural restoration. In doing so, it claims space in global luxury dialogues, heritage debates, and sustainable fashion ecosystems—fields where Western dominance is increasingly being challenged. In short, Muslin is no longer just a fabric. It is Bangladesh’s textile foreign policy—a soft assertion of sovereignty in the language of the loom.

Conclusion 

Dhaka Muslin’s resurgence is not simply a romantic resurrection of lost artistry; it is a carefully woven geopolitical act. It allows Bangladesh to tell a story that intertwines identity, sustainability, decolonization, and diplomacy. The fabric once destroyed by colonial greed is now being revived as a weapon of cultural diplomacy, a thread that connects the past to the future through strategic narration. As the world turns to artisanal authenticity, climate-conscious consumption, and cultural provenance, Bangladesh has found in Muslin a canvas for international engagement. The journey of Muslin—from colonial casualty to cultural ambassador—shows how the politics of memory can be mobilized as the politics of power. What lies ahead is not just a question of market success, but of whether Bangladesh can sustain this project politically, economically, and symbolically. Muslin’s return is more than an act of weaving—it is an act of geopolitical stitching, with Bangladesh poised to re-enter the global imagination, this time on its own terms.

About the author: Vasatika Saraswat is a second-year B.A. LL.B. (Hons.) student at Jindal Global Law School (JGLS). Her academic interests lie at the intersection of international relations, constitutional law, and feminist legal theory. Passionate about interrogating the power structures embedded in global governance, she explores how international law is shaped by, and in turn shapes, gender, sovereignty, and geopolitics.

Image Source : “Muslim Lady Reclining” by Francesco Renaldi depicts a woman in fine Bengali muslin. (Wikimedia)