No voice for migrants in Mumbai’s language debate

India’s financial capital has been a migrant magnet for decades and despite rising political tensions around the language ‘outsiders’ speak, ‘Mumbai is still home’, say migrants

Hepzi Anthony

Labour contractor Halim Khan with his wife Sridevi. 

Pic credit: Hepzi Anthony

MUMBAI, Maharashtra: Labour contractor Halim Khan, 60, migrated to Mumbai from Lucknow about 25 years ago. He calls himself ‘angootha chaap’ (illiterate), but has picked up Marathi, Tamil and Kannada during his time in Mumbai - his language skills a reflection of the many languages spoken in India’s financial capital.

So when Khan first heard the news of migrants being attacked for not speaking in Marathi, he said he knew, like most migrants living in this slum pocket of Ambujwadi in a Mumbai suburb, that the issue was being raked up for the forthcoming elections. After all, the city and its people have always been welcoming to migrants like him, he said.

“Mumbai is my permanent home. Everything back there has been sold off. I have nowhere else to go and nothing to return back to,” said Khan, sitting alongside his wife Sridevi, who hails from Karnataka, in an office in suburban Mumbai of the Kamgar Saurakshan Sangharsh Sangh Trade Union, a trade union body for informal workers.

“Such issues over language, I feel, are being raked up only now due to the forthcoming elections. No one has ever forced me to talk in any language. While I have never experienced any such incident, it is sad to see the poor being targeted on such issues,” said Khan.

In recent weeks, people have been attacked or assaulted for not speaking in Marathi by representatives of Maharashtra Navnirman Sena and Shiv Sena (UBT), according to media reports. The two parties, helmed by once-rival cousins, have joined hands after 20 years  to oppose a government plan to introduce Hindi in Maharashtra’s primary schools. The brothers heading MNS and Shiv Sena (UBT) - Raj Thackeray and Uddhav Thackeray - announced at a massive gathering on July 5 that they would uphold Marathi pride.

Deepak Pawar, the political science professor and language advocacy activist who led the stir against the imposition of Hindi before it went political and reached the streets, told The Migration Story that he did not condone the violence. 

“Beating up someone is unquestionably wrong,” he said. “However, there are other issues here. One is that Marathi people have been pushed out of the city to its far-flung suburbs because their former spaces have been taken over by the rich from other communities. The other is that the city has reached breaking point and become unlivable because of over-population. There’s a bottled-up anger, which finds release in these sorts of incidents.”  

Pawar also emphasised that migrants must try to learn the language of the region they migrate to. “It is in everyone’s interests to do so,” he said.

While the government has warned against assaulting people for not speaking in Marathi, cases of attacks and heated arguments have been recorded in recent weeks. A shopkeeper was slapped at MIra Road on July 1, traders were summoned by a former member of Parliament Rajan Vichare and rebuked for not speaking in Marathi on July 2, and an rickshaw driver was slapped on July 12 for refusing to speak in Marathi in a viral video. A shopkeeper from Vikhroli was beaten and paraded for allegedly keeping an objectionable WhatsApp status which was viewed as critical of Marathi-speaking people.

Mumbai has been a migrant magnet for decades. Migration contributed about 39 % of Greater Mumbai’s total population growth between 1991 and 2001, according to an analysis of Census data. While the city once offered steady employment in its ports and mills and drew migrants from within the state, Mumbai’s de‐industrialization in the 1980s and 1990s “was so prominent that it turned into a service city”,  according to a study mapping Mumbai’s migration pattern. Jobs became largely informal, and migrants from northern Indian states such as Uttar Pradesh, Bihar started coming to the city in larger numbers, becoming ubiquitous - driving taxis, cooking food, cleaning streets and hawking vegetables and fruits.

While migrant numbers have declined in the city in the past two decades, media analysis of migrant numbers show, the anti-migrant sentiment is often provoked politically.

But Mumbai needs its migrants as much as migrants need the city for their livelihood, say analysts. Migrants have assumed such a critical proportion in Mumbai Metropolitan Region that its economy would collapse devoid of them, said academic researcher Hitesh Potdar, who is pursuing a doctorate on labour and migration from Kings College, London.

Potdar argued that assertion of language or identity politics always has repercussions on migrants.”This is because language becomes the easiest tool of identification to divide, to peddle the ‘us versus them’ narrative that feeds sectarian politics,” said Potdar.

‘I don’t think anybody will go back’

Mansi Bhaktwani

Name: Arun Shetty

Age: 62

Migrant from: Mundkur, Manglore

Occupation: Vendor 

I came to Mumbai in 1975, when I was 12 years old. We are seven brother and sisters and my father died when I was small. I used to work in hotels and later went to a night school. I now sell chips and namkeen outside a school. I have worked in Mumbai for so many years but I haven't faced any attacks. I have a little understanding of Marathi living here for so many years, and I believe migrants should try learning the regional language. But they cannot be forced to. I don't think this (language issue) will last long. Political parties will do this for some time as BMC elections are also near. I don't think anybody will go back.

Name: Deepak Gupta

Age: 36

Migrant from: Mau, Uttar Pradesh

Occupation: Vegetable vendor 

The situation is definitely worrisome. Nobody should ever experience such a situation. We come here for livelihood and to support our family, not to fight with anybody. However, if the conditions are not favourable many may choose to go back. I arrived in Mumbai 16 years ago. I initially worked in a private company in Borivali, but left the job after a year and started selling vegetables. I have been doing this for 15 years now. I have picked up Marathi over the years - I interact with my customers in Marathi. I have gradually learnt the language on the job, but it can be difficult for newcomers to the city. Besides, not everyone can grasp every language — some learn quickly, others struggle. Also, we are not foreigners and Hindi is not a foreign language. I wish people live in harmony and peace. Nobody can learn anything with violence or by force, the situation will only worsen.

Name: Muktar Hussain

Age: 35

Migrant from: Ranchi, Jharkhand 

Occupation: Fruit seller

It’s been 20 years since I migrated to Mumbai. Pet ke liye aaye hai, mehnat nahi karenge toh paise nhi honge (I have come here to earn a living. If I don’t work, there will be income)

My family lives in Jharkhand. 

People from across India migrate to various states for employment. How can anybody impose restrictions? Such language disputes do not exist in every state. They can ask us politely to learn the regional language, but why force? Hindi works in most places but we should definitely take an initiative to learn the local language. In fact, I can speak in Marathi and understand it also, but not completely. Violence or coercion won't yield any result.

Name: Murli Nisaar

Age: 60

Migrant from: Gorakhpur, Uttar Pradesh 

Occupation: Hawker

I don’t quite understand this language issue. The educated youth in our families can speak in Marathi but we can't. We are already tackling so many troubles we face, this is just one more addition. I feel worried that if something like this were to happen to me, what would I do? What if they abuse me and hit me? Poor people get trapped in all these disputes while others enjoy their life. Netas may fight these battles, but it's the poor who suffer and die. Such instances of damaging public property only lead to the loss of taxpayers' money

FEAR

Rambali Gaud has been living in Mumbai for over seven years, driving an autorickshaw to earn his living. The migrant from Varanasi calls the city his home but for the first time in seven years felt unsafe, more so after he was slapped for jumping a signal by two men who were on a motorcycle.

He attributed the attack on him to the “negative atmosphere” against migrants in Mumbai.

“I am here only to earn my livelihood. I am open to learning Marathi but please don't bully me, “ he told The Migration Story, adding that he has decided to learn the language.

The fights and arguments over language have spread beyond the political workers to common citizens with viral videos showing fights breaking out between middle class people on trains, streets and shops indulging in heated arguments with fellow citizens insisting that they converse in the local language.

While most political parties have condemned physical attacks, the average migrant worker on the street is watching these attack videos on his Whatsapp with a sense of unease. Those like Gaud struggle to understand the rage against harmless and hardworking people like him.

Though most migrant workers, both young and old, said they continue to feel safe to work in Mumbai, that Marathi language should be respected and that they were making attempts to learn the language, what upset them was it being forced on them. Most migrants The Migration Story spoke to said that they had good experiences with Mumbaikars - some even making a seamless switching between Hindi, Gujarati and Marathi, but noted the political atmosphere was vitiated and disturbing.

Learning Marathi, they said, would be insufficient to protect them from attacks, said mason Arvind Singh, another migrant, who blamed the drop in work opportunities to his north- Indian background or his ‘bhaiya’ identity. He said he knew Marathi, Telugu, Gujarati and even an Aurangabadi variant of Marathi, but wasn’t sure if his knowledge of languages would shield him from attacks like those on other migrants.

What could shield them is the industrial need for skilled and cheap workforce. 

Most migrant workers in Mumbai are employed informally, driving taxis and autorickshaws, working in the city’s construction sector, its massive gig sector, as hawkers and vendors, with no fixed income or social security. 

“Besides, workers from different states specialise in certain tasks. For instance, workers from Rajasthan specialise in doing tile work, while those from Bihar are able to work in the construction of skyscrapers. So, they cannot be replaced easily and the sector simply cannot afford to let workers return back, " said Shankar Pujari, who heads the Nivara Bandhkam Kamgar Sanghtana, a registered trade union organisation.

The local population too is heavily dependent on migrants, be it as tenants for their rental home income or as labour for various businesses, said Abid Khan of nonprofit Rashtriya Seva Dal and a resident of Bhiwandi town, where an estimated 80% of the population is of migrants. 

"While the language politics does create a flutter, there will be no exodus because people cannot simply afford to go back. Also,the migrants have realised that the public anger on issues here does not last long; sentiments tend to cool down," he said.

‘The definition of a Marathi person needs to change’

Sharmishta Bhosale

Deepak Pawar, political science professor and language advocacy activist led the stir against the imposition of Hindi before it went political and reached the streets. He said he was “fighting for the linguistic identity” of Maharashtra.

He spoke to The Migration Story about why there is a need to protect Marathi language.

-‘Workers, irrespective of the language they speak, are treated terribly’ 

Rich business communities have pitted workers against each other for their own benefit, Pawar said. 

“Privileged employers praise migrants more than the local Marathi workers,” he said. “But both are treated terribly. Before policymakers go around celebrating the “diversity” of the city, they need to confront the brutal class struggle that defines it. We need to redistribute resources and the privileged class needs to do some soul-searching.”

Pawar further said politicians needed to do some soul searching on how migrants can be better taken care of, and their livelihood needs met.  “The world witnessed hardships of the labourers returning to their native place from Mumbai during the COVID-19 lockdown,” he said, adding that in an ideal world, people should be able to earn their living in their hometowns and shouldn’t be forced to migrate. But, he noted, that the capitalist system only values workers if they give up on their personal life, family and work 14–18 hours a day in the production system. “And this system doesn’t differentiate — whether the unorganized worker is Marathi or from another state, they’re both exploited. But who’s talking about that? We should ask: are the so-called well-wishers of migrants really concerned about their welfare? Or do they just want a steady supply of ‘cheap labor’?”

-‘The Marathi Identity’

Pawar said there was a need to include migrant communities in a larger inclusive movement for the protection and promotion of Marathi. The activist further said that the definition of a Marathi person needed to change. “Look at how we define who a Marathi person is—it's a narrow frame shaped largely by parties like the Shiv Sena and MNS,” he said. “Typically, it includes people from the middle castes and classes—salaried workers or those in the informal sector. But our idea of what it means to be Marathi needs to go beyond that.

“If you ask me for a definition, I’d say: a Muslim from Konkan, Marathwada or elsewhere in Maharashtra is just as Marathi. We have a strong legacy of writers like Hamid Dalwai. The Muslim Satyashodhak Samaj works in Marathi. We host the Muslim Marathi Sahitya Sammelan (Muslim Marathi literary meet) on this very soil. The Christian from Vasai who prays in Marathi at his church is  Marathi. The Buddhist here or the Jain who’s been pushed to the margins of rural life—they’re Marathi too.

“Just the other day, I was at a Congress event in Mira-Bhayandar, where that assault incident had happened. On that stage were Gujaratis, Marwaris, Rajasthanis, North Indians and even a Kashmiri—and every single one of them spoke in Marathi. The Kashmiri man even said, ‘My Marathi has a Satara accent because I’ve lived there.’ ”

Sharmishtha Bhosale is an independent journalist based in Mumbai with core interest in gender, culture and socio-political issues.