The Fight of the Farmer: Understanding the Protests in India

Farmers in Punjab, India. Photo by the International Center for Tropical Agriculture.

On Thursday, November 26th, 2020, 250 million individuals in India participated in what is now considered the largest organized strike in all of human history. Spurred by agricultural legislation that was recently passed by the Indian government, these dissidents sought to voice solidarity with the tens of thousands of farmers who have been protesting at the nation’s capital for months now. The farmers are themselves angered by Prime Minister Modi’s willingness to make drastic and dangerous changes to the agricultural sector without consulting the 60% of Indians whose livelihoods depend on it. At the heart of this conflict lie three bills: the Farm Services Bill, Essential Commodities Bill, and the Farmers’ Produce Trade and Commerce Bill. To understand just how vulnerable these pieces of legislation leave Indian farmers, it is important to understand what has, until very recently, been the status quo. 

 Under the previous set of laws, Indian farmers auctioned off their produce at government controlled wholesale markets known as mandis. Admittedly, this system was at times complex; there were a variety of rules and regulations concerning who could buy and what they could buy, and the process had to be facilitated by middlemen that often tried to unfairly profit off of transactions. However, mandis provided important services to farmers, such as storage and testing facilities. Most importantly, one invaluable advantage offered to farmers in this system was a minimum support price (M.S.P.). Through the use of an M.S.P., the Indian government would offer guaranteed prices to farmers for certain crops, a practice that was integral to their subsistence, and one that allowed them to feel safe in making investments towards the next crop cycle. The new set of laws, introduced in September, seeks to dismantle the mandi system, replacing it with a market-oriented approach, in which farmers are allowed to deal with corporations directly and sell their goods to any chosen buyer or state, at a price that they can freely negotiate. Importantly, an M.S.P. may no longer be guaranteed. According to the Prime Minister and his Bharatiya Janata Party (B.J.P.), this allows the agricultural system to become more streamlined, while offering farmers the freedom to make their own choices and potentially secure higher incomes by self-negotiation. Furthermore, Prime Minister Modi argues that this change will lead to increased private investment in the agricultural sector, and potentially modernize the industry. This harping on the potential for industrialization (even if it comes at the expense of vulnerable citizens) is in line with Modi and the B.J.P.’s past policies, which often show preference to corporations over individuals.

Opponents of the new legislation point out that, far from giving farmers increased opportunity and independence, the drastic deregulation mandated by these bills would leave farmers vulnerable to corporate exploitation. Considering that more than 80% of farmers in India own less than five acres of land, they ask: how is it realistic to assume that negotiations between such individuals and multinational conglomerates would not necessarily be characterized by a power imbalance? It is unlikely that small farmers will somehow manage to secure for themselves higher prices than they did in the mandi system, as the government currently predicts. Instead, big companies will likely drive down prices for crops and leave farmers, who no longer have the security of an M.S.P., in a state of extreme financial insecurity. Additionally, if a farmer has a dispute about a contract they entered with a corporation, it will be much more difficult for them to win. This isn’t pure conjecture, either; in the 14 years since the Indian state of Bihar enacted similar legislation and got rid of the mandi system, the status of farmers has steadily declined. Most became increasingly dependent on large corporations, and had to sell their produce at prices far less than the M.S.P. that they had previously been guaranteed. Further, small farmers found themselves especially encumbered in negotiations with companies because of high transaction charges and a lack of transparency. This disproves the Indian government’s embellished vision of farmers securing higher incomes by engaging in the market freely and independently. 

It is further troubling that this deregulatory legislation was introduced in the middle of a pandemic that has plunged India into its first recession in decades. Even some developmental economists in the country, who generally favor market-oriented approaches, have expressed concern about the government’s willingness to retract state financial support in a time when farmers need it the most. Not only that, but the government’s decision to not consult with farmers before passing this legislation has been a particular point of outrage for citizens across the country. In the past few years, a series of poor harvests, droughts, and growing debt have led to a sharp increase in the number of farmer suicides. As a result, farmers and their allies have been calling for reform of the mandi system that addresses their pain. For the government to pass legislation that purports this goal, without having taken the time to talk with leaders of farmer unions about their realities and their needs, is deeply insulting. 

The government has responded to the nationwide nonviolent protests with brutal repression, using water cannons and tear gas to subdue the rightfully indignant hordes of farmers voicing their concern at the capital. Media in the country has been flooded with propaganda that suggests, without evidence, that the movement has been contrived by an opposing party for solely political reasons. Modi himself, instead of showing any sympathy for the farmers, has unabashedly labelled them “anti-national” for dissenting, a particularly ironic statement, given that India’s very independence is owed to a man who valued the right to peaceful protest above all. This response has yielded admonishment by global actors, yet the government still shows no signs of budging. 

Ultimately, the Indian government’s willingness to privilege already wealthy corporations at the expense of their most vulnerable citizens is both distressing and destructive. And we, regardless of whichever country we live in, ought to care. After all, we consume much of the crops produced by the small farmers that are now in danger of being exploited. Furthermore, especially in light of the events that have taken place in the United States in 2020, the plight of living under a government that quells peaceful protests and unduly advantages the affluent should resonate with us deeply. If you are able, please consider donating to KhalsaAid, an organization that is supporting those protesting in India with food and other such necessities.

Shruti Verma is a staff writer at CPR and a sophomore in Columbia’s School of Engineering and Applied Sciences studying Computer Science with a minor in Political Science.