A discussion sometime in 2050 on a TV news channel in India

Q: Who killed the Indian farmer?

A: No one killed the Indian farmer. Not the government, certainly.

In fact, in a country where over 3 lakh farmers have killed themselves since 1995, roughly 16,000 every year since 2004 which translates to about 43 every day, Mandsaur in Madhya Pradesh is just another addition to the statistics.

In fact, this data itself is erroneous since from 2014, only those farmers who have a land title in their name and get at least 50 per cent of their income from agriculture are considered as ‘farmers’. The large majority of tenant farmers and farm labour do not fit the bill, with their deaths simply going into the “Others” category.

Pesticide, rope or the bullet? These are the only options before the Indian farmer, in whose life death is an uninvited constant. An end that could come before or after any kharif or rabi season.

Even as the establishment speaks in different voices on who pulled the trigger in Mandsaur – the police, the CRPF or anti-social elements – the fact is that the stand-off was waiting to happen. The government’s indifference to agrarian distress and lack of application of mind to the problems has reduced Lal Bahadur Shastri’s slogan of Jai Jawan Jai Kisan to Jai Jawan Hai Kisan.

First, the facts of the case. Mandsaur did not start burning on Tuesday. Since June 1, farmers have been agitating in Madhya Pradesh demanding better price for their produce. On Sunday, farmers had clashed with the police in Indore, Bhopal and Sehore districts and six cops were injured. While the government managed to convince the Bharatiya Kisan Sangh, which is a Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) affiliate to call off their agitation, two other outfits continued to protest. On 5 June, with onions at the heart of the standoff, Chief Minister Shivraj Chauhan offered to buy the produce at Rs 8 per kg and announced a Rs 1,000-crore price stabilisation fund. But things got out of hand in Mandsaur, with firing at the farmers killing six. Enraged farmers ended up ransacking properties and blocking the road.

Across the border, Maharashtra has been in turmoil as well. Farmers are dumping their produce on the road, shutting down wholesale markets and vandalising vehicles from other states found to be carrying vegetables into cities. Gallons of milk were spilt, which meant prices of essential commodities have seen an upward spiral in urban centres in the two states.

On the face of it, it seems strange that farmers should be on the warpath. The Prime Minister had promised to double farm incomes by 2022, though it was a utopian promise that belied arithmetic and ignored the situation on the ground. In April, Madhya Pradesh won the Krishi Karman award for the fifth successive year, for recording the highest production of wheat. Barring south Indian states, the 2016 monsoon was normal after two successive years of drought. India also registered record foodgrain production, 8.6 per cent more compared to 2015-16.

Where then is the angst coming from?

The problem essentially is with the procurement process. With the entry of private players into the procurement system, market forces have taken over. In the initial years, online platforms like e-choupal that incidentally started in Madhya Pradesh, brought the convenience of selling to the farmer’s doorstep, raised prices, reduced the variation in prices between nearby mandis, helping farmers get a better price. ITC that pioneered this also gained because it was buying produce directly from the farmer. But the bubble burst soon.

Over the years, the government’s online platforms like e-nam in 419 mandis have introduced transparency into the system, but they have also meant lesser money in the farmer’s pocket. “It benefits only the buyer who can scout online and find out where he gets the produce at the lowest price,” says GV Ramanjaneyulu, Agriculture Scientist. “Look at the prices of any commodity. The price of red gram is 60 per cent lower than last year, chillies down 75 per cent. On an average, prices of all products are 50 per cent down.”

This season, horticulturists in Nashik in Maharashtra have not harvested much of their crop. They say the cost of production for ladyfinger for instance is Rs 20 per kg, while they get only Rs 10 per kg in the market.

Not surprising that records also prove that bankruptcy, more than crop failure, is the reason for farmer suicides. According to NCRB data, one in every three farmers in India who committed suicide in 2015 was a Maharashtrian, 4,291 out of 12,602. Of this, 43 per cent of the suicides were due to mounting debts, compared to 18 per cent farmers who had killed themselves due to crop failure.

What is being witnessed is the result of the near collapse of the regulated market yards in different states. “A country of India’s size needs 42,000 mandis, we have 7,700,” says Devinder Sharma, Food Policy analyst. “But there is an attempt to dismantle even those mandis. The intention is to promote corporate agriculture. Basically bring in a new breed of tie-sporting middlemen.”

Look at it now from the point of view of farmers. They expect that when the agriculture department advises them to grow a particular crop, it will also ensure its sale at a good price. That does not happen because by asking everyone to grow the same crop, it contributes to a glut. Like it happened in Telangana when farmers were asked to grow chilies. A bumper crop ensued but prices crashed from the Rs 15,000 per quintal they got last year to Rs 2,500 this year. No surprise that things took an ugly turn at the Khammam chilies market year last month with farmers vandalising it. The follow-up action by the government made matters worse, when the police produced the farmers who had indulged in violence in court, handcuffed.

The farmer obviously expects the government to come to his aid. The Uttar Pradesh government’s decision to waive off Rs 36,359 crore of farm loans set a precedent and farmers from every state expected the same. Devendra Fadnavis on June 3 waived-off loans worth Rs 30,000 crore, which was owed by farmers who had up to five acres of land till October 2016.

But loan waivers by themselves are hardly a permanent solution to more systemic ailments. Bankers have warned that the move encouraged credit indiscipline. In March, SBI chairperson Arundhati Bhattacharya said at a CII event, “People who get the waiver have expectations of future waivers as well. Today the loans will come back as the government will pay for it but when we disburse loans again, then the farmers will wait for the next election expecting another waiver.”

Maharashtra and Madhya Pradesh are also a lesson to the rest of India that governments react only when urban centres are affected or there is arson. The recent instance of the Gandhian protest by 100-odd farmers from Tamil Nadu at Jantar Mantar in Delhi is a case in point. For 41 days, they employed every trick in the book to attract the attention of the powers that be, demanding a loan waiver and constitution of the Cauvery Board. But barring Tamil Nadu politicians and the Tamil Nadu chief minister making an appearance at the fag end of the protest, the Centre just did not care even though the protest was strategically taking place in its backyard. The farmers returned home empty-handed.

The media cares even less. On the evening Mandsaur happened, at least three major English news networks focused on Kashmir during prime time, painting yet again the national versus anti-national narrative. How is it that only the soldier who fights on the border is a patriot but not the farmer who is toiling in the field to grow food for the country.

For much of the media that does not exist beyond the metros, farmers are not a constituency who matter. And Shastri’s worldview is from another century. In the media narrative of 2017, the Kisan is a poorer cousin to the Jawan. One who does not provide oxygen to a TRP machine, in life or in death.

The author can be contacted on Twitter @Iamtssudhir

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