A Growing Divide
India’s farmers’ protest sheds light on discriminatory legislation, trapping farmers in an unending cycle of poverty.
The most common question I keep getting asked amid the farmers’ protest is, “why does it concern you?” Immediately, I am reminded of my roots. I was born in Punjab. My ancestors were farmers. Many of my extended family members are farmers. Most importantly though, the reason I care is because the farmers’ struggle is a direct result of India’s appalling classism.
As a young child, I never understood why so many farmers and other laborers were living in huts they built themselves when they work to the bone every single day. How was it possible that the very people who were the backbone of society were struggling the most? As an adult, I now understand that the system is rigged. Farmers do the work but receive little to no recognition.
When we lived in Punjab, my parents faced many of the same struggles. They always told me stories about how those in power were working against the little man. For instance, the government has control of how electricity is distributed in a village. They would divert the village’s electricity to big companies in the area during the day to run corporate farms, limiting the smaller farmers’ access to electricity to nighttime. As temperatures would continue to drop, these family farmers wouldn’t have a choice but to work all night in the cold. This is just one example my parents would give of the government trying to break them.
Like minority groups in America, farmers in India lack the resources and money to stick it to the bigger man. Most farmers begin working from a young age because their families need all hands on deck to put food on the table and keep the lights on. Many of these farmers are born into farming and work till their last days. The low price for crops and increasing maintenance costs resulted in generations of farmers and laborers unable to escape poverty.
Over the years, farmers have also had to take out loans to pay for bills and rising operating expenses. In addition, India’s Green Revolution brought pesticides onto these farms, making both crops and farmers dependent on these chemicals. This dependence led to a continued lack of cash flow, making it even more difficult to afford the cost of living. And as we know, less money often means less access to opportunities, and lower chances of climbing up the social class system.
When the costs began to outweigh the benefits, my parents packed up and relocated us to the United States. Although they weren’t handed many opportunities in this new country, the few they got were blessings.
When I got older, my parents took me to Hoshiarpur, where I was born, a couple of times. It was important to them that I didn’t forget where I came from. My most recent visit to Punjab in 2014 had me in tears as I witnessed elderly men and women and young children working the fields. My cousin took me for a ride on his scooter and showed me where some of the laborers lived. There were kids wandering around without shoes in the mud, playing with rocks and entertaining each other in any way they could. A lot of them were living without electricity and a sewage system. They told me they have always lived like that and their parents had as well. They were stuck in a cycle of poverty.
That is why I am demanding that these agricultural laws be repealed. I have witnessed first hand so many people struggling to survive before the laws were enacted. The Indian government is ignoring the fact that the farmer class has been struggling for years. Their voices remain unheard, and laws are being passed to dig them further and further into the ground. It is worrisome that the people holding office are appealing to the upper class at the cost of shattering the masses. All we want is for our message to reach the world. Farmers want to be compensated for the work they do. I demand you close the gap.
