As we find ourselves amidst a total lockdown for over 35 days and come face to face with the reality of its harsh economic implications and healthcare challenges, we are forced to ask some compelling questions.
One among these important questions is regarding the growing economic disparities in the country and the extremely adverse implications that any kind of policy mismanagement or health epidemic such as the coronavirus has on the vulnerable section of the population.
Secondly, we have to consider the fact that in the absence of a welfarist State apparatus, the condition of the already vulnerable section of the population becomes only worse but this is often neglected in the mainstream discourse of the media.
What I am trying to highlight here is the fact that drastic economic policies in recent years, such as the decision to demonetise the Indian economy by the Modi government or the decision to suddenly announce a lockdown without prior arrangements for transporting migrant workers from cities to their villages in the context of the outbreak of the coronavirus, have impacted this section of the population far more intensely than any other. But, how sensitive has the government or the media been to their plight and, above all, to the tragic implications of a policy that is only urban and elite-oriented?
The invisible class
It is the visuals of hundreds of desperate migrant workers walking without any food or water for hundreds of miles during the lockdown in a bid to return to their villages that has captured the national imagination.
In the absence of transportation networks and financial support for the lockdown phase, these migrant workers, who constitute some 37% of India, suffer in silence the marginalisation and State neglect. How would they stay back in the costly city when their already meagre source of income has been snatched away? Who would look after their families, of which they are often the only earning members? How would they access healthcare in the absence of financial security, while people in the cities quarantine themselves comfortably?
As many states closed their borders and migrant workers walking on the highways were forcibly sprayed with chemicals in a bid to sanitise them, some political leaders suggested that ‘unlawful’ citizens who didn’t abide by the lockdown protocol must be shot at site!
As the urban middle class saw these visuals on flashy news channels, they too wondered why such a class of people should create more problems for the State and spread the virus.
The quarantine privilege
After the success of the janata curfew, PM Modi announced the 21-day lockdown, and on April 14, its extension until May 3, to control the spread of the coronavirus. In his speeches, he talked about everything that citizens were supposed to do in this period, from washing hands frequently to isolating themselves and avoiding stepping outdoors.
But he said nothing about what initiative the government had taken for the millions of people living on daily wages, such as the labouring class and the migrant workers. How will their food and shelter be arranged? How will they live through these hard times?
The next day, from television celebrities to politicians and cricketers and people in residential colonies -- everyone came out on their balconies to bang plates and utensils to honour those who couldn’t “afford” to stay indoors, such as medical professionals and policemen. Then, they comfortably returned to their well-stocked fridges, overflowing groceries and the steady Netflix subscription that brought the world of entertainment to their fingertips.
But outside, the world wasn’t so rosy and comfortable. Jobs were lost, savings were exhausted, children were starving and there was no roof over the head. Social distancing had ended up turning these migrant workers into unwanted and worthless creatures who could create problems for the State or spread “virus” just by walking on the streets!
No thought was spared on how they were going to survive the lockdown and how their families would not end up starving to death.
I am reminded of the great poet Pete Seger at this juncture and his pertinent poetic inquiry, “Where have all the young men gone? Gone to graveyards, everyone?”
Yes, hundreds of young men have left our urban centres in the last couple of weeks, trying to return to their villages in these hard times. Poverty and helplessness seem to have become bigger enemies than the coronavirus itself.
Several migrant workers have died of exhaustion and starvation, trying to reach their village, their home. No one came to help them or even pick up their dead bodies.
The pain and endless miseries of these ordinary citizens fades away in the noise of mainstream politics and city-centric media.
These people are everywhere – at construction sites, as sanitation employees, domestic helps, factory workers, security guards, vegetable vendors, garbage collectors, etc., but they are invisible as far as representation in mainstream politics is concerned.
They work on meagre wages for long durations, making life in the city smooth for the privileged, but ironically their lives hardly matter for the establishment or for us.
In these difficult times, we have left this vulnerable section to suffer and perish on its own.
As I watch the news and the visuals of desperate migrant workers crying and pleading for help, I know that we have failed them as a nation and that we have left our brothers and sisters to suffer when they needed our support the most. Has our insistence on ‘social distancing’ made us distant to our own conscience and morality?
(The writer is Founding Editor, The New Leam)