What Farmers' Protest Tells Us About Punjab's Economy And Society

Punjab has a long historical lineage of farmers’ protests, going back to the seven-month-long Pagrhi Sambhal O’ Jatta protest of 1907 against the three colonial laws, followed by the years-long Muzara (tenant) movement that resulted in the abolition of Biswedari (land lordship) in 1952. The state also has a long history of unionisation of farmers, as the Punjab unit of the All India Kisan Sabha was established in 1943. More recently, Punjab witnessed a farmers’ protest (2020-2021) against the three farm laws enacted by the centre. Farmers from Haryana and western Uttar Pradesh also participated in large numbers. The laws, which were later repealed by the central government, were an attempt to bring ‘reform’ to the farming sector. They were ‘hard reforms’ in three respects. First, they were direct and visible on the political radar, lapped up by the opposition. Second, if implemented, they were going to affect many farmers, adversely, as the agitating farmers thought. Third, the affec🧸ted farmers were organised in the form of farmers’ unions. Thus, the reversal by a seemingly ‘strong’ government was not much of a surprise, given the ‘democratic pressure’.

Now, after barely three years, farmers—this time only from Punjab—are back in the agitational mode. The farmers, who were earlier ensconced on the Singhu border abutting Delhi, are now camping at Khana♚uri and Shambhu borders touching Haryana, both times stopped from marching to Delhi. They plan to march to Delhi on January 21, which in all probability will be thwarted, as in the past. The situation is increasingly becoming critical because of the hunger strike of 70-year-old farmer leader Jagjit Singh Dallewal, whose deteriorating health has drawn the concerns of the Supreme Court. Unlike in the case of the earlier protest, this time there is no attempt, so far, at ministerial level to engage the union leaders to break the deadlock.

What do the agitating farmers demand now, even after the three contentious laws are long gone? The demands, being raised by the farmers’ unions, are actually not new. The farmers have been asking for the legalisation of a Minimum Support Price (MSP) for all crops, making it enforceable for not only the present, but future governments as well. Though they claim that the government had promised this during their last interaction, the government’s position is that it has never intended to do away with the existing system. The unions have also been asking the centre to withdraw from the World Trade Organisation’s agreement on agriculture, which envisaged reduction in agricultural subsidies and setting up of a ‘fairer’ (open market) trade system. There is also a lurking fear that reforms would be brought back in a stealth manner by the pro-corporate/business Narendra Modi government.

Farmers from Punjab, since the Green Revolution days, have been heavily dependent on the government procurement of their wheat and paddy under MSP—which goes to the central pool and is used subsequently by the government to provide subsidised food grains to people living below the poverty line under a public distribution scheme. The fear among farmers is that the central government might withdraw the MSP scheme in ꦯthe near future under pressureꦕ from developed countries. In that case, farmers would be losing blanket security, which they now enjoy, and would be at the mercy of the arahatiyas/moneylenders or/and subsequently the corporate sector, which would move in to fill the space.

The fact is that the Green Revolution was a flawed strategy with a complete focus to increase productivity of📖 foodgrains so that the country does not need to go again to the US with a ‘begging bowl’ like the then Prime Minister Indira Gandhi did, pleading with the Lyndon B Johnson administration. As the government failed to effectively implement land reform measures (land ceiling and tenancy laws), and the country faced a deficit of foodgrains, states such as Punjab—that have better irrigation facilities—were selected for massive investment by the Indian state in the form of subsidies for seeds, fertilisers and agricultural machinery to ensure food security. It was ‘betting on the strong strategy’, leaving out poorer states. Subsidies, however, did not come only from the centre. Electricity was made free by the state government in 1997. The focus was the productivity of water guzzling paddy, not suitable for Punjab’s climate. The reckless use of groundwater and fertilisers for the three-crop pattern agricultural cycle, after an initial boom in productivity, has now busted. The groundwater table has gone down and the nutrient value of soil has been eroded. All this has not only made diminishing returns, but has also catapulted input costs for farmers, resulting in high levels of indebtedness. Frequent failure of cash crops like cotton has resulted in large-scale farmers’ suicide, especially in the Malwa region. The militancy period witnessed industries and businesses moving away from cities like Ludhiana and Jalandhar. The neighbouring states of Himachal Pradesh and Haryana, being the special category states, have, of late, attracted Punjab industrialists, while farmers have moved to states like Chhattisgarh. The promises repeated in every election by political parties—bringing in a ‘second Green Revolution’, developing agro-based industries, crop diversification, horticulture or bringing in capital investments—have remained only on paper. While the political agenda moved long ago from ethnic issues to developmental issues, high level of corruption and the entrenched mafia, from sand to drug to gangsters, have kept potential investors away, including corporate sector Czars of Punjabi origin in India like the Mahindras, the Oberois, the Mittals, not to mention the affluent Punjabi diaspora. Thus, the state is effectively left with a one sector economy, and that sector has been in 🌃a state of terminal decline with no hope of revival.

The despair and anger of protesting farmers has to be understood in a larger context. There has been a large-scale hopelessness and despair amongst the people of Punjab, once the most prosperous state of India, especially amongst the youth who have been clamouring to immigrate to the West by any means. Parents are also keen to send their children abroad even after schooling, not only because of the dismal state of higher educational institutions, but also due to the fear that they would fall victim to drugs or reckless consumerism. The political class, in general, is accused of abetting drugs, crime and looting of natural resources. Political alienation was reflected in the 2022 elections when the Akali Dal and the Congress, the two parties in power since Partition, either on their own or in alliance with other parties, were picked off in favour of the Aam Aadmi Party (AAP). The AAP’s failure to fulfil its tall promises, its inability to address the precarious state of economy and relying on the freebie culture, have deepened the political crisis. The terminal decline of the Akal🔯i Dal and the Panthic Party has led to the resurrection of radical forces, evident in the form of the impressive wins of two independent candidates having a separatist agenda, and the emergence of a new political outfit called Waris Punjab De.

Coming back to angry farmers, one needs to understand the ‘wounded psyche’ that prevails in Punjab’s political culture. There is a popular sentiment in the state—that Punjab’s farmers ‘fed’ the people of foodgrain-deficient states of the East, served the nationalist cause, like in the case of the wars they fought, and, being a significant p൩art of the armed forces in independent India. However, now when they are in distress and need critical help and assurances from the centre in order to remain afloat, they are not being heard. The centre is being seen as pro-urban and pro-business/service sector despite many schemes declared by the present government for farmers’ welfare. There is another notable factor that needs to be underlined, though it can be contested by leaders who term their apolitical and peaceful protest as secular. The farmers’ unions essentially represent the Jat Sikh landed peasantry as, since the Land Alienation Act passed by the British in 1900, only the castes defined as ‘agricultural castes’ were entitled to own the land. Jat Sikhs became the natural beneficiary, especially after the Partition even as the law lapsed. Scheduled Castes, constituting 31.94 per cent as per the 2011 Census, own less than three per cent of agricultural land. The social basis of political power in the state is heavily skewed in favour of the Jat Sikhs, evident in the social profile of the leadership of all parties since the making of the Punjabi Suba movement. This narrowness in the power structure is partly responsible for the failure of successive party regimes to take corrective measures to revive the state’s economy and expand its base by promoting service and manufacturing sectors.

Economic reforms have continued unabated since 1991 and, in fact, have been implemented in an incremental manner, with every change in political power at the centre. And reforms in the farming sector have been on the cards for years. So the need of the hour is that the Punjab government—in active financial support of the centre—must ensure the introduction of state-assisted traditional crops of Punjab, rather than only focus on rice and wheat or cash crops. Revival of the once-famed ancillaries of Punjab by creating a꧙ conducive environment is needed. Maintaining fiscal discipline is critical. The trust-building efforts between beleaguered farmers and the governments—both at the centre and the state—can only come through comprehensive dialogue and assurance, to be followed by corrective measures, as suggested by committees of experts. The recommendations of the M S Swaminathan Committee are already being flagged by farmer leaders. The report of the S S Johl Committee on the diversification of crops needs to be considered and implemented. It would be a tragedy if political parties view the protest from their own narrow lens to reap political dividends. One should remember the troubled times the borderland state had in the near past.

(Views expressed are personal)

Ashutosh Kumar is Professor, Department Of Political Science, Punjab University, Chandigarh

(This appeared in the print as 'Time For Course Correction')