Strangers in the City: Migrant Workers in Indian and Chinese Cities

While political systems, level of State capacity and trajectory of development may vary, cities in China and India have retained many common threads of socio-spatial exclusion of migrant workers

P.K. Anand, Research Associate, ICS

The ‘visibility’ of the migrant workers is the biggest urban predicament that is being witnessed during the nation-wide lockdown, which has now crossed 50 days. The images of their ‘reverse migration’ — whether entirely by foot, or through modes of transportation that are heart-wrenching — lay bare the desperations and anxieties emerging from the loss of livelihood and security.

Not that many of these journeys have happy endings — deaths due to exhaustion, or accidents leave behind more than just a trail of dead bodies. It is equally significant that since the lockdown started on March 25, there also exists a long list of casualties that cannot be pinned on the virus per se — including those related to mental health, often left at the periphery.

The brutal social experiment that is the pandemic has only reinforced and exacerbated the systemic exclusion and dispossession of circular/seasonal migrant workers/footloose workers, who inhabit Indian cities. A report titled Unlocking the Urban, released by Aajeevika Bureau —a non-profit organisation working among seasonal migrants in western India — released on May 1, highlighted the longstanding vulnerabilities of rural-urban migrants in cities. They often receive less than minimum wages, are engaged in manual work which last for long hours, which, are often even dangerous.

They remain unaccounted for by national statistics and are invisible to city-level administrations; precarity undergirds their working and living spaces, rendering them ineligible for social schemes and welfare programmes. These further lead to them being denied access to urban residence and governance; their survival in the cities is dependent on daily negotiations with informal actors, ranging from petty contractors to security guards, and even landlords.

The socio-spatial exclusion of migrants from Indian cities, and their statelessness in some ways, mirrors the nongmin gong (peasant workers) in China’s urban spaces, pejoratively called ‘floating population’; though the Chinese state has changed the terminology to xin shimin (new city residents) in order to fully ‘integrate’ them into urban centres, the desired results have not followed.

China’s Rural-Urban Dichotomy

The demarcation of citizenship in China into rural and urban is a legacy of socialist planning. In 1958, the hukou(registered residence permits), was introduced to regulate the flow of resources, especially labour, and sustain an agrarian countryside, while the State subsidised urban living. The economic reforms of the 1980s led to easing of rural-to-urban mobility, which, in turn, kick-started the long journey of labourers from the rural areas to the industries and companies in coastal provinces. The migrant workers have been crucial in the growth of many megacities in China today.

However, this infrastructural and economic growth of Chinese cities happened even as the migrant workers remained peripheral in China’s urbanity. The urban hukou — the foundation for a well-entrenched city life with access to public services, healthcare and education — is highly stratified and segregated, with eligibility based on the level of education, skills and status. The hukoucreates a division between privileged and entitled urban residents and the migrant workers. Though the migrant workers are tagged as ‘essential’, in reality they are ‘placeless’ and unable to make claims for a ‘right to the city’. The constant fear of eviction from their informal neighbourhoods and being at the receiving end of law enforcement’s brutal high-handedness, mirror the story of their Indian counterparts. Furthermore, the marginalisation of migrants in city spaces has also impacted the lives of their children in claiming access to healthcare and education.

Urban Citizenship

While the high level of decentralisation in China’s political-administrative system give the local governments significant decision-making powers, city governments — especially those in the megacities — remain intransigent in reforming the hukousystem. Beijing has repeatedly mentioned the need to reform the system but it more or less remains on paper. While small and medium sized cities have experimented with various models and pilot programmes, there remains reluctance from the big cities. It highlights the skewed nature of China’s tax and revenue systems favouring the central government, while the local governments bear the fiscal responsibilities. Thus, the big cities are resistant to reforms that add to their burden.

By the same count, with laws and regulations largely divided between the Union government and the state governments in India, local bodies (such as municipalities) are rendered powerless, without significant responsibilities. Such disempowerment of cities create constraints in developing specific and contextual regulations (for instance, in many cities migrant workers are not even enumerated).

Clearly, while political systems, level of State capacity and trajectory of development may vary, cities in China and India have retained many common threads of socio-spatial exclusion of migrant workers.

Originally Published as Urban Spaces | Migrant workers remains invisible in India and Chinain Moneycontrol.com, 21 May 2020

Eye on Labour amidst Lockdown: Taking a China lens

The images of migrants on roads across India should perhaps help us re-evaluate the often romanticised images of the massive movement of workers annually in China

P.K. Anand, Research Associate, ICS

The nationwide 21-day lockdown announced by Prime Minister Narendra Modi to contain the spread of the COVID-19 pandemic in India has completed 10 days. Being the second-most populous country in the world, India’s lockdown has been a massive exercise involving stopping all forms of public transport, closing down educational institutions, and recreational facilities, and all other avenues of gatherings/congregations across the vast territorial swathes of the country.

The lockdown has generated considerable debate not only on its viability and necessity, but also on its implementation and the resulting effects.

The incrementalism adopted in India’s approach ever since the outbreak in China occupied news space in mid-January — from airport screenings, to visa restrictions and later tracing of contacts and travels of infected people — has also been subjected to scrutiny by public health scholars and experts. The reasons for reluctance of the government to scale up testing at a mass level, even as cases spiked across India, appears to be twin-fold — to avoid a panic and chaos on one hand, and reckoning with the reality of a creaky health infrastructure, amplified by the lack of requisite resources, personnel and equipment, on the other. Even now calls for mass testing than just mere lockdown continues to go unheeded.

Even though Italy was the first country to impose a nation-wide lockdown, the playbook has emerged from China in its complete shutdown of Hubei province (while allowing other provincial and sub-provincial administrations to calibrate measures as deemed necessary in their jurisdictional regions). However, there has been enough reams and ink spent on explaining the impossibility of replication of the Chinese model — which has been undergirded by the authoritarian one-party state system that is decentralised, possessing extensive reach and high-organisational capacity — in democratic, diverse political systems. Further, the party-state massively employed technology to ensure social and political discipline. The party-state’s efforts to ramp up testing and large-scale mobilisation of resources have acted as force multipliers in its combat against the contagion even though the initial cover up, censorship and failure to track it in the first place have come in for criticism.

Nowhere has the planning and viability of the lockdown been questioned than by the heart-wrenching images of displaced migrant workers and their families, fleeing cities to their native places in the Indian hinterland on foot, riven with fears and anxieties of lost livelihoods and absent State support. In fact, these images and stories have generated significant traction to the argument of privileging the middle classes and urban elite in India, who have the wherewithal and space to practice social distancing as well as be able to exercise the option of work from home. Unlike them, the poor and daily wage, low-paid workers who constitute the informal sector and are at the frontlines in keeping essential services thriving, have a hand-to-mouth existence.

The images of migrants on the road also engages us to perhaps re-evaluate the often romanticised images of the massive movement of workers annually in China, for Chunyun, or the 40-day period with the onset of the Lunar New Year holiday, cramping through trains and other public transport (incidentally that movement this year was termed to have accentuated the spread of the virus).

That China’s migrant workers, often termed as floating population, have to traverse great distances to work in manufacturing and services, mostly in coastal regions or bigger cities, reflects the failure to develop viable regional economies. This is line with the high level of inequality prevalent in China, both regional and income related. The obduracy and rigidity of the country’s urban registration system — or, Hukou — that excludes the low-paid migrants from accessing rights and services in Chinese cities, also finds echoes in how ‘invisible’ the migrant workers have become in Indian scenario.

While democracy versus one-party state value judgements have often tended to dominate India-China comparatives, ideally the metric to test the State has to be State capacity; the ability of the State to provide goods and services to its citizens, especially during times of crises and distress. Herein, in spite of its authoritarian State system, with censorship and restrictions on freedom, China has a higher State capacity compared to India. That in turn, means a more formalised economy, with even social protections built into employment contracts (even if the implementation on the ground has been tardy).

Rome was not built in a day, and that applies for State capacity as well. Perhaps this pandemic and the lockdown, and the stark images left in its wake, will finally activate the Indian State to unlearn and learn, and reshape itself as a provider than remain only as an enforcer.

Originally Published as Labour, lockdown and the State’s predicamentin Moneycontrol.com, 3 April 2020

Situating Labour in a Pandemic: Corona Virus Outbreak’s Social Costs

P.K. Anand, Research Associate, ICS

As the Chinese pick the pieces of the outbreak of the novel Coronavirus, COVID -19, and the much-vaunted State capacity becoming frail, the pandemic has left more than a trail of dead in its wake. The direct or indirect impact on various segments of the polity, economy and society are being seriously felt and some of the cascading and ripple effects may be in the long-term.

The economic ill-health has significant bearing for not just China, but also for the rest of the world; in fact, the slowdown of the economy predates the outbreak with surge in inflation, and structural factors complicated by the trade war with the United States. While the Chinese had scaled down from high- to medium-term growth in early 2015, with reference to the term ‘New Normal’, the slowdown reflected that things had veered away from the expectations.

Much before the National Day last year, the surging prices of pork (a staple ingredient in Chinese food), along with other red flags on the economic front, had signalled life becoming harder in China. In fact, the pork prices have continued to rise amid shortages during the lockdown.

The ‘manufacturing centre of the world’ tag has taken a hit, as factories, enterprises and production units across China are either still closed or yet to restart completely, with cases of even an extension of the Lunar New Year holiday. Being the centre of automobile production in China, Wuhan has borne the maximum impact. Further, the ripple effects have in effect ceased production in automobile factories in South Korea and Japan, as closure of factories manufacturing auto parts in China.

The prospects of an extension of the economic recession also carry social costs, with significant consequences for labour in China. The travel of migrant workers — the fulcrum of the Chinese urban manufacturing story — at the onset of the new year from cities to their home provinces was often visually showcased with fascination over the years. While this masks the weaknesses of the regional economies within China by illustrating the inequalities between coastal and inland provinces, the movement also causes apprehension of spread of the virus.

The workers are also confronted with a dilemma while making decisions on returning to the workplaces — the need to make income by selling their labour versus (in)adequacies of health safety. More often than not, circumstances condition the workers to choose the former. The more days the things remain in limbo and cause disruptions including non-availability of transport for workers to reach workplaces, the more rise in workers’ anxieties.

The workers in manufacturing enterprises and their significance have always dominated the discourse on labour in China, and therefore, their absence through closure of workplaces and dilemmas do command news space. However, of equal, if not more, importance are the workers in the services sector — those in essential services such as sanitation workers, security guards, drivers and those on the low-end, not only in China but also in Hong Kong.

Along with them, hundreds of workers employed to power the platform/gig economy are also on the frontlines, especially food delivery workers. Even though extra precautions are exercised through usage of safety equipment, reporting the body temperature of employees to customers and quality checks, the food delivery workers are under added pressure in addition to the need to make deliveries in time, even though heralded as lifeline during the pandemic, and valourised for their selfless service.

However, dig a little deep, and the rosy picture starts turning bleak — workers for platform services are among the most vulnerable and precarious workforces in China without adequate workplace protection, or entitlements, and are also victims of accidents in the rush to ensure speedy deliveries and for customer satisfaction. Moreover, the rating-driven ecosystem where a high number of deliveries become the benchmark for evaluation, frustrations and alienation also set in.

Avowedly, China has national laws to regulate work contracts and to implement social security, but the translation of the same into action on the ground remains lopsided and inadequate. Precarity is intermingled within the system, as tough urban registration system called hukou, that segments and stratifies residents, renders migrant workers in the services sector to the margins, without access to services in the city where they reside.

The (in)capacity of the local-state to come up with problem-solving solutions to properly integrate the workers in the services sector also has echoes in India; even though there is cognisance of the prevalence of informal workforce in the urban system, adequate legal/formal inclusive measures are few and far between. This leaves them exposed to the vagaries of the market, which leads to the glorifying of their ‘resilience’ bringing forth a low-level equilibrium.

Undoubtedly, the social costs of a pandemic are in the long-term and therefore, the need to learn and unlearn.

Originally Published as Coronavirus exposes the brittleness of China’s economic prowess in Moneycontrol.com, 18 February 2020

China Diary: First Impressions

Monish Tourangbam, PhD, Assistant Professor, Department of Geopolitics and International Relations, Manipal University, Karnataka & South Asian Voices Visiting Fellow, Stimson Center, Washington D.C.

As an academic actively teaching and writing on issues of international relations and geopolitics, visiting the People’s Republic of China (PRC) has always been a priority on my bucket list. So, when an opportunity came to visit the PRC, I embraced it with an open mind, with an intention to listen, observe and learn. A trip spanning less than two weeks is hardly an adequate time to even start scratching the surface of a country that is often associated with opacity. Hence, these are mere first impressions that in no way can be seen as definitive impressions.

One is often struck by the geographical nearness of China to India, and yet the political distance, in terms of a complex adversarial and competitive relationship, and divergent political systems. Continue reading “China Diary: First Impressions”