As an Indian fan of the BBC, I can tell you why it matters

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/jul/16/indian-bbc-cricket-beatles-world-service

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Growing up in a small sub-Himalayan town, a Philips radio my father owned was my window to the world. This was the 1960s, when there was no television in India and the local papers scarcely carried any foreign news. In the evenings after school, or through the day during the holidays, I either played football with my friends or listened to the radio, all alone. Fiddling with the knobs, I would listen to jazz on the Voice of America, to cricket on the ABC, and to everything (cricket and jazz included) on the BBC. Despite the make of my radio, I don’t recall ever listening to Radio Netherlands.

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I was first drawn to the BBC by the Top 20. I remember listening, week after week, as the programme wound its way inevitably to the Beatles’ Hey Jude, No 1 for many months (and still among my favourite songs). That must have been when I was about 10. I soon graduated to Paddy Feeny’s Saturday Special and Robert Robinson’s Brain of Britain.

In 1974 I moved to Delhi to attend university. In my first year I was bereft of the BBC in term-time. However, in my second year I won an inter-college quiz. With the prize, a solid 500 rupees, I bought myself a portable transistor. Now I had access to the BBC wherever I went.

English-speaking Indians of my generation generally remember (or thank) the BBC for two things. First, the impartiality of its news coverage, not least about our own country. Our state broadcaster was nicknamed “All Indira Radio” for the propaganda it spewed forth on behalf of our long-serving and somewhat autocratic prime minister. If a communal riot broke out, or if the monsoon had failed, it was the BBC that gave us the most reliable, up-to-date news. Not surprisingly, when Indira Gandhi was assassinated in 1984, the BBC broke the news of her death hours before the AIR did.

For Indian males, the BBC also meant Test Match Special. We loved the gravelly tones of John Arlott and the growly tones of Fred Trueman, although Brian Johnston irritated us with his aimless banter and his manifest Little Englandism. (I still recall how, during the 1976 England-West Indies series, a short ball from Holding or Roberts was routinely described as “a nasty one”, but a short ball from Willis or Old as “a splendid bouncer”).

I respected the BBC for its political independence, and admired it for its evocative descriptions of top-class sport. But I also appreciated the short stories read on radio, the classical music carried live from the Royal Albert Hall, and the splendid programme Outlook, which ranged widely across literature, politics, science, and more.

Now, in middle age, and living in the southern metropolis of Bangalore, the BBC still plays a part in my life. The sport and music mostly come from elsewhere, but for insightful social and political commentary I turn to BBC World Service on television. Indian channels are even more parochial than the newspapers of my youth. US channels are flat and boring. Among the diverse programmes on the BBC, I most enjoy Dateline London, with its properly international cast of experts, guided by the clever and charming Gavin Esler.

The BBC remains popular and respected in India, and not just for those Indians whose first language is English. The corporation’s Hindi service has tens of millions of listeners across the Indo-Gangetic Plain, and eastwards into Nepal. I have sometimes been interviewed by its presenters, who have impressed me both for their knowledge and their humanity. In 2011, on a whim – or advice from a consultancy firm – the BBC announced it was going to shut down the Hindi service. Fortunately, a campaign led by the writer Vikram Seth (himself a regular listener) forced it to back down. The Hindi service remains enormously popular, respected and relied upon for a credibility that All India Radio sadly still lacks.

This view from around the world may not be entirely appreciated in the UK. There, the BBC is often attacked for being elitist or excessively leftwing. The criticism is intensified when one of its better-paid presenters is found guilty of malpractice. There may be some merit in these criticisms. The corporation needs perhaps to reflect a greater diversity of British political opinion, and to more regularly remind the more arrogant among its employees of the history and traditions of the organisation.

The BBC may be the only British invention or product that has an international standing while in safe British hands.

Perhaps one has to live in or travel through other lands to appreciate how great an institution the BBC is.

Indians would be grateful, and Indian democracy enriched, if we had a public service broadcaster that was half as independent or well endowed. In the US, a country I know well, this lack is also felt quite keenly, with PBS and NPR unable to remotely match the popularity or reach of commercial radio and TV channels.

In my view, rightwing Britons mourning the loss of their country’s status in the world should in fact support the BBC even more than the left. For football is now a Brazilian sport, cricket an Indian game. The most popular singers are no longer British, but American or Colombian. The best novels in English are written by Nigerians, Canadians, Ghanaians, Australians and Bangladeshis. The BBC may be the only British invention or product that has an international standing while remaining recognisably British and in safe British hands.