A march to end suffering

They came, we saw and they conquered our hearts. By the end of the momentous farmers’ march, an otherwise self-serving city that never pauses had rallied for a cause, which had little to do with it. It was deeply moved by the gentle, forlorn faces of the farmers and tribals and their peeling soles.

The farmers exemplified grace under pressure. Their march was peaceful and dignified; they made no ruckus, did not leave a litter trail behind, and, unlike the farmers’ protest last year in Karnataka, punished themselves by walking in the night to ensure Mumbaikars were not inconvenienced by their protest.

For almost a week, they slept on the streets, ate whatever they had brought with them or was made available to them, and walked a gruelling 180 km under a merciless sun without a murmur. Here was a community of people — with little access to the necessities of life — demonstrating sheer class. Even though they had donned red topis and waved red flags of a farmers’ union, the CPI-M-affiliated All India Kisan Sabha, they were mostly protesters without a political hue being played by political parties.

The march is of a piece with a discernible pattern developing in the state and elsewhere. In August last year, Marathas held morchas on similar lines in different parts of Maharashtra, including Mumbai, to demand reservations in government jobs and education. Marathas are, incidentally, the most powerful political grouping in the state. The morchas were a clear show of strength, but peaceful and brilliantly organised.

On January 3, a Maharashtra bandh was called by Prakash Ambedkar, grandson of Dr Babasaheb Ambedkar. The bandh started off peacefully and seemed to be petering out by mid-morning when hordes of protestors suddenly descended on the streets and in front of trains, pelting stones and burning vehicles in a programmed manner. These incidents occurred at almost the same time in several parts of the city, bringing life to a complete standstill by the afternoon. Mumbai bandhs have had a history of being enforced early morning with rail rokos and rasta rokos. This was a rare bandh that went live only after it seemed to be necessary.

The three incidents underscore an increasing tendency to align with interest groups and resort to protest as a means of redressing grievances. One sees this happening in Gujarat with its Patels and OBCs, in Rajasthan with its Gurjars and Karni Senas, in Karnataka with its Lingayats, and so on. None of these marches, for all their apolitical claims, are really that. They are imperceptibly orchestrated by shadow political forces. The growing ghettoisation and the belief that the government can be brought to its senses by violent or non-violent protests is a dangerous trend. It augurs ill for national unity and portends a sharp polarisation in society that can rip the secular fabric irreversibly.

Arguably, the farmers’ march was valid but farmers in India have long been discriminated against, in fact, for all of seven decades. Rarely have they exhibited this level of agitation. Did they, in desperation, fall prey to the promises held out by the organisers? We do not know.

What we do know is that their travails and hardships will sadly not achieve what they really need. They marched for a loan waiver which is an immediate need but not adequate to see them through for more than a year or so. Loan waivers are a huge burden on the state exchequer. A farm loan waiver of over Rs 34,000 crore announced last year is already under process.

What is more worrying is that waivers work against farmers’ interests. Each time loans are waived, institutional credit slumps. As a question mark hangs over repayment, banks and institutions avoid lending to farmers, pushing them into the arms of private moneylenders who charge a steep interest. Moreover, many farmers have defaulted on their loans in the hope of benefiting from a possible waiver, and, in the process, become ineligible for future loans.

One of the organisers of the march, CPI-M MLA Jiva Pandu Gavit, admitted to this writer that loan waiver is not a solution. The real solution is to make the farmers stand on their feet, something no government has ever made efforts to do. Like in most parts of the country, Maharashtra’s farmers have been neglected and their issues continue to fester. A vast network of irrigation projects lie incomplete; watershed and water management systems are in disarray; agricultural research gets low priority; training in crop management and rotation is virtually zilch; soil erosion is a harsh reality; discriminatory load-shedding keeps them working at night, land ownership issues remain unresolved, middlemen dominate all tiers of agricultural activity, and so on.

The Devendra Fadnavis government is the new occupant of a dilapidated building. He has inherited the problems as well as the legacy of indifference. Given the long history of neglect, it will take years to rectify the agricultural narrative. In any case, it’s highly doubtful that the Fadnavis government will attempt the gargantuan task of reforming and re-engineering the agriculture sector so close to an election year.

Till long-term solutions are considered with any degree of seriousness, loan waivers will continue to be a stop-gap but self-defeating exercise and farmer suicides will continue to be a tragic reality.

The author is a senior journalist and a communications consultant. Views expressed are personal.