A company that is more than just shoes

SEVERAL INDUSTRIAL CONCERNS have built towns or settlements to ensure that their employees have somewhere comfortable to live near to the factories where they work. An early example of this is Saltaire, which was constructed between 1851 and 1871 near Bradford for the workers in the mills of Titus Salt. In 1888, the Lever Brothers, who made a variety of products including soap, built Port Sunlight (in Cheshire), a model village for their workers. And in South Africa, my great-grandfather Franz Ginsberg was a founding father of Ginsberg Township, established near his factory in King Williams Town in 1901. I have visited these three places, but not Bournville, the Cadbury chocolate company’s workers’ village that was started in 1893. Outstanding as these examples are, nothing can compete with the workers’ facilities established in several countries all over the world by the Czechs Tomáš Baťa (1876-1932) and his son Thomas J Bata (1914-2008).

The Bata factory at East Tilbury in 2017

The Bata company was formed in Zlin (Moravia, Czechoslovakia) in 1894. It was concerned with manufacturing shoes, and continues to exist today. Soon, the business grew, and large factories were built. Accompanying these factories, and close to them, At Zlin, Bata built not a simple workers’ village, bu at large workers’ town. The company employed architects to design modernist buildings, including dwellings, shops, a cinema, a hospital, a hotel, restaurants, and other practical amenities. Not only did the company build these structures, but it also modernised industrial working conditions to make life more pleasant for their workers. In time, after WW2, Bata began expanding overseas. In the 1930s and 1940s, they established factories, each with their own workers’ model towns, in Poland, Yugoslavia, Hungary, Switzerland, Holland, England, India, USA, Canada, Chile, Kenya, Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe), and Brazil. In all their factories, Bata practised their advanced benevolent treatment of the workers. Apart from, improving working conditions, Bata made innovative developments in design and marketing.

To mark the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the birth of Tomáš Baťa, the Czech Centre in London is holding an exhibition, “Desire to Create: Baťa’s Architecture of Belonging”, until 12 June 2026. The small exhibition is filled with informative placards and historic photographs. Much of the show concentrates on the Bata town built around its factories at East Tilbury, on the Thames east of London. Although Bata closed operations there in 2005, many of the company’s buildings still survive (see https://londonadam.travellerspoint.com/43/, which describes my visit to East Tilbury in 2017). The exhibition at the Czech Centre is a collaboration with Bata Heritage Centre in East Tilbury. Although the exhibition is not large, it is fascinating and I am pleased I have viewed it because not only have I visited Zlin and East Tilbury, but also, I have bought pairs of comfortable shoes and sandals made and sold in India by the Bata company.

Finally, at the exhibition I learned two well-known personalities have had connections with Bata. The broadcaster John Tusa was the son of Jan Tusa, one of the first managers of Bata in Czechoslovakia, and the father of the playwright Tom Stoppard was a medical doctor in the Bata town in Zlin. When his parents fled the Nazis, the Bata family assisted them.

Three men and a trolley

One man pulls the trolley. Another stands on the trolley, pulling a lever back and forth. The lever operates a pump that sends water from a tank (on the trolley) along a hosepipe to a third man, who is holding its end and spraying the flowers.

In India, there is no shortage of manpower and wages are not high. So, employing three men to do what a costly sprinkler system would do in Western Europe makes sense and gives employment to those who have families to feed.

Industrial action and a library

The Madras Gymkhana Club library was not devoid of interest. To enter it, one has to climb over a tall step. This is designed to protect the library when rainfall causes flooding of the Club’s grounds which are on low lying land close to the Adyar River estuary.

Another interesting feature was pinned to the shirt of one of the library staff. It was a rectangular plastic badge with a hammer and sickle on both of its sides. One side had words in Tamil, and the other in English. These words explain to the reader that there was a grievance between the staff and their employers, The Club. The problem about which the employees were protesting concerned pay. Seeing these badges of protest reminded me of a visit to Nizam’s restaurant in Kolkata a few years ago. There, the waiters were wearing similar badges, some in Bengali, some in Hindi, and others in English.

As for the library, it seemed well stocked with books and journals. Several old books were being sold, and there were three that I could not resist!

A fine old coffee house with waiters in turbans

WHEN I FIRST VISITED Bangalore in 1994, there was a coffee house on MG Road close to the now derelict Srungar Shopping Complex. This venerable ‘hole in the wall’ was a branch of the Indian Coffee House (‘ICH’) chain. In both appearance and atmosphere it reminded me of some of the older coffee houses I had seen in Yugoslavia when it was still a country.

Customers sat at old wooden tables on wooden benches with upright hard backrests. Old Coffee Board posters hung on the walls. The waiters were dresses in grubby white jackets and trousers held up by an extremely wide red and gold belt with huge buckles that bore the logo of the ICB. These gentlemen wore white turbans with red and gold ribbons on their heads. On addition to rather average quality South Indian filter coffee, a variety of snacks and cold drinks were also available.

During the British occupation of India, admission to most coffee houses was restricted to European clients. In the late 1890s, the idea of establishing an ICH chain of coffee houses for Indian customers began to be considered. In 1936, the India Coffee Board opened the first ICH in Bombay’s Churchgate area By the 1940s, there were at least 50 branches all over what was then British India.

In the mid 1950s, the ICHs were closed by the Coffee Board. The Communist leader AK Gopalan (1904-1977) and the Coffee Board workers managed to get the Coffee Board to hand over the ICH outlets to them, and they formed a series of Indian Coffee Workers’ Co-operatives. The cooperative on Bangalore was formed in August 1957. There are now several branches in the city.

The MG Road branch, which opened in 1959, closed in 2009, at about the sane time as the nearby Srungar Complex began becoming closed for redevelopment, which has not yet happened.

The branch reopened in the Brigade Gardens complex on Church Street. Apart from being accommodated in a room which is rather nondescript compared to its former home, not much has changed as a result of the move to a new location. The furniture is that which was in the older site. Likewise, the old posters have been transferred. And the waiters are still attired in their stained white uniforms with belt, buckle, and turbans. The ‘atmosphere’ of the old ICH on MG Road has been recreated or maybe continued in the coffee house’s new premises. The quality of the coffee served has neither improved nor deteriorated. The ICH remains as popular as ever, and for me it is always a pleasure to enter this old-fashioned place in a city that is addicted to change.