Near the eastern boundary of Delhi city, in India, stands the Red Fort. The Fort is an imposing presence, to say the least: It commands more than 100 hectares of land and is guarded by over 2 kilometers of walls all around. In some places, the ramparts reach at least 30 meters in height, towering over the land around it.
The Red Fort has always been a signifier of who holds power over the vast country that India is. It was built by the fifth Mughal Emperor and was the dynasty’s seat of power. For almost a century, under British colonial rule, the Union Jack, the United Kingdom flag, was bannered over the Fort.
Since India’s independence in 1947, the country’s tricolor flag has been flying proudly on the magnificent sandstone structure.
On January 26, as the rest of India was celebrating its Republic Day, a group of farmer-protesters stormed the Red Fort and won control over an empty flagpole along its walls. By the end of the encounter, a flag representing the minority Sikh religious community joined the Indian flag, flapping alongside it.
Some government-friendly media had a field-day, saying it was a threat to India, a symbol of Sikh separatism. Others, however, saw it as an act of a persecuted religious minority saying, “This is our country too.”
What these media outlets failed to adequately represent were stories of police brutality against peaceful protesters. During the ensuing clashes between protesters and police, one farmer lost his life.
For over two months now, farmers from the northern state of Punjab have laid siege to Delhi, threatening to paralyze the nation’s capital. Initially, the movement was seen to be led largely by Punjabi Sikh farmers. This has been a source of discomfort for many government-friendly groups, who have worked to paint the farmer protests as a separatist movement, a danger to India’s integrity.
Farmer unions have pushed back against this claim, saying it is a pan-India farmers’ protest. In fact, before long, non-Sikh farmers from other stages, such as Uttar Pradesh, Haryana, and Rajasthan, joined the siege of Delhi, and solidarity marches have taken place all over the country.
The numbers of protesters only continue to swell. At present, three major portals into and out of the city – Singhu, Tikri, and Ghazipur – have already been totally blocked by farmers. Whatever the interpretation of the Republic Day encounter was, it had brought greater attention, awareness, and hopefully support, to the farmers’ cause.
February 2021. Union leader Rakesh Tikait (seated, with a green scarf and white and green cap) joins Sikh, Hindu, and Muslim farmers at the Ghazipur border checkpoint between Delhi and Uttar Pradesh. Tikait cried on national TV on January 26, saying the ruling party had betrayed farmers. His emotional appeal has drawn thousands more to Ghazipur. (Photo credit: Bhartiya Kisan Union)
Bone of contention
At the heart of all the commotion and controversy is a set of laws that the Indian government pushed through Parliament in September, without opening it up for debate.
Under India’s current system, farmers trade at a government-designated marketplace, known as a mandi. Through these trade hubs, licensed middlemen can purchase agricultural goods from farmers at a minimum support price, which is set and regulated by the government.
According to Richa Kumar, associate professor at the Indian Institute of Technology’s Department of Humanities and Social Sciences, the mandi system provided a regulated marketplace for farmers.
“In the 1970s, the Indian government created public market infrastructure called mandi. Private traders were given licenses to purchase produce through the mandi system, which was overseen by government officials,” she said. “Farmers could hold traders accountable for weight, quality, and payment issues.”
She elaborated: “If a trader doesn’t pay a farmer within the stipulated time, then the trader’s deposit with the mandi is invoked for payment and the trader’s license with the mandi may even be cancelled.”
In a country where 60 percent of the population is mainly dependent on agriculture for income, a safety net like the support price is seen as a lifeline for many.
Farmer unions, however, have argued that the new laws, collectively known as Farm Laws, will open the door to giant corporations in agriculture and destroy the mandi system, rendering the minimum support price powerless and leaving farmers at the mercy of market forces.
Kumar says the new laws create a parallel marketplace outside the mandi, which is entirely unregulated, with no taxes or fees to be paid on transactions. “If you’re a big corporation, you can now set up your own private mandi with no government oversight, where you can trade exclusively.”
On India’s Republic Day on Jan. 26, a tractor rally is held in protest against new agricultural laws that threaten farmers’ livelihood. The farm equipment has become a symbol of farmers’ protests in India. Looming in the background is the Akshardham Temple.
Why farmers oppose the laws
The fear among farmers has less to do with what has happened, and more with what is going to happen. There is growing anxiety about what the entry of large corporations means for their futures.
India’s Prime Minister Narendra Modi has been accused of being too friendly with billionaires like Mukesh Ambani, chairman and managing director of Reliance Industries, a multinational conglomerate.
Opposition leader Rahul Gandhi has also accused Modi of being a “puppet” in the hands of Ambani and fellow billionaire Gautam Adani. In fact, much of the farmers’ ire is directed towards these two men – two of the richest in India. Punjabis have boycotted products and businesses of the Ambani and Adani groups.
Harinder Singh Lakhowal, head of one of the 40 Unions that have set up camp at Delhi’s borders, says that he has seen this play out before, but in a different sector. Jio, Reliance’s telecom wing, first entered the Indian market in late 2015. Over time, it has grown to dominate all its competitors.
“Jio came in and lowered prices so much that they drove all other telecom companies out,” Lakhowal says. “This is exactly what they will do to us.”
Dharmendra Malik, spokesperson for the Bhartiya Kisan Union (BKU), one of the largest farmer unions in India, is from the state of Uttar Pradesh. When the BKU saw farmers from Punjab descend on the capital from the north, they joined forces from the east.
He says that this is a protest fueled by anxiety over a future controlled by giant corporations. “Corporates will drive us out. We find it hard to negotiate with local small traders. How will we negotiate with giant corporations like Reliance or Adani?”
“This is not about us; this is about what will happen in the future. This is about our children and the generations yet to come,” Malik says.
‘We’re in it for the long haul’
Protests began in Punjab and parts of Haryana, two states northwest of Delhi, in September, as soon as the bills were pushed through the Upper House of the Indian Parliament.
Demonstrations continued for two months in Punjab and Haryana, which is when farmers decided to up the ante. By the end of November, thousands of farmers were standing at the capital’s doorstep, setting up camp behind police barricades. The camps stretch for miles on highways connecting with Delhi at three primary portals: Singhu, Tikri, and Ghazipur.
Raman Singh Mann, 46, is a Sikh farmer from the Bathinda district in Punjab. “It is electrifying,” he says of the atmosphere at the protest site. “We are charged up. Some farmers have bought supplies that will last us months. We have washing machines set up on the road for our clothes. We sing songs of the revolution and share stories. It is like a carnival out here.”
The Sikh tradition of Langar, or community kitchens, has been alive and well at the protests, too. Farmers say that both Singhu and Tikri borders have hundreds of langars keeping protesters well-fed.
Mann said locals on the Haryana end of the border have also been lending their support, opening up their homes for farmers who need to use washrooms, as well as helping them secure supplies.
In fact, Mann insists that this not be called a Punjabi or a Sikh protest. “When you say this is a Punjabi or Sikh protest, you take away from the contribution that our brothers from Haryana have made.”
On January 10, 2021, for instance, Haryanvi farmers blocked a helipad where the state’s Chief Minister was supposed to land. He was scheduled to deliver an address at an event, in support of the new laws.
BKU’s Malik says, “Zid hai kisan ki (The farmer is now obstinate about this). We are in it for the long haul. The government will have to repeal these laws.”
Deadlock
Eleven rounds of talks have taken place between the government and the 40 farmer Unions. The government has offered them concessions, including putting the implementation of the laws “on hold” for a year and a half.
“The government has given the best offer to farmers’ unions. I am hopeful that they will convey their decision to us after discussing it among themselves. Once they communicate, we will take it forward,” Narendra Singh Tomar, India’s Agriculture Minister, told the press after the 11th round.
But unions and factions across the ideological spectrum continue to stand united, firmly against these laws.
Lakhowal, one of the Union heads, was part of these deliberations. He says that a key aspect of the protest is that farmers feel that as stakeholders, they were not consulted. These deliberations, unfortunately, did not change that.
“The government has been dismissive in the talks. They’re not actually listening. They keep explaining the law to us like we are children,” Lakhowal says.
“We say we don’t want to hear about this law. We say the only discussion to be had is whether they will repeal the laws or not. After that, they should form a committee with experts and representatives from Unions. If you make a law about us, don’t do it without asking us.”
‘The sword of the revolution is sharpened on the whetstone of ideas.’
Trust in India’s mainstream media is so low that farmers at the protest site have taken it upon themselves to do their own awareness campaign. They have started their own bi-weekly newsletter called ‘Trolley Times’.
“We were forced to start our own newsletter. The media only sings praises of Modi,” says Mann, the Sikh farmer. The Trolley Times publishes the biggest news of the week, along with cartoons, op-eds, and contributions in the form of poetry or prose. It runs in both Punjabi and Hindi.
Emblazoned on its masthead are the words of the fabled revolutionary anti-colonial freedom fighter Bhagat Singh: “The sword of the revolution is sharpened on the whetstone of ideas.”
Their efforts seem to be paying off. The Sikh diaspora across the world has started to help amplify the farmers’ message. Solidarity rallies and parades have been held in the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom and Australia. Artists, musicians, actors, and poets have also joined the cause.
Back home in Punjab, the farmer movement has also gained growing support, with villagers sending cooked food and supplies in droves.
Following the violence during India’s Republic Day in January, the protests have faced harsh criticism. But when Rakesh Tikait, leader of the BKU from Uttar Pradesh, was moved to tears on national TV shortly after, the tide started turning.
He said Modi’s Bhartiya Janata Party had betrayed farmers, and that seeing the violence police inflicted on farmers broke his heart. Tikait’s emotional episode has galvanized people from Uttar Pradesh, drawing them to the protests.
As it enters its sixth month, the farmers’ movement shows no sign of slowing down. Mann recalls, in Punjabi, what advice he and his friends got from their mothers before they left for Delhi. “Saddiya’n maava’n sannu kenniya’n, fateh karke aayo (Our mothers told us, come back victorious).” ●
Uday Rana is a journalist from New Delhi, India. He is now based in Ottawa, Canada.
