SOUTH ASIA: JOURNAL OF SOUTH ASIAN STUDIES Salt Workers in Contemporary South India: Change and Continuity

Table of contents :
Abstract
Introduction
Monopoly and labour in salt work
Salt, land and caste
Bringing in the voice of the salt workers
What has been the state’s concern?
The salt worker’s quest for dignity and justice
Acknowledgements
Disclosure statement
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South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies

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Salt Workers in Contemporary South India: Change and Continuity Arularasan G., Balaharish V. & Senthil Babu D. To cite this article: Arularasan G., Balaharish V. & Senthil Babu D. (2023): Salt Workers in Contemporary South India: Change and Continuity, South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies, DOI: 10.1080/00856401.2023.2244331 To link to this article: https://doi.org/10.1080/00856401.2023.2244331

Published online: 11 Sep 2023.

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SOUTH ASIA: JOURNAL OF SOUTH ASIAN STUDIES https://doi.org/10.1080/00856401.2023.2244331

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Salt Workers in Contemporary South India: Change and Continuity Arularasan G.a, Balaharish V.a and Senthil Babu D.b a Research Organisation for Social Action, Pondicherry, India; bInstitut Franc¸ais de Pondic¸hery, Pondicherry, India

KEYWORDS

ABSTRACT

Monopolies of different kinds have remained a constant factor in the history of the salt industry in India. The available literature focuses on the economic aspects of the industry and not on labour. In this essay, we study the labour process to understand the influence of monopoly, caste hegemony, land tenure and the idea of production inefficiency. We show how colonial and postcolonial state policies have remained indifferent to the lives of salt workers. This article reconstructs salt history in India from the perspective of salt workers, restoring dignity to their labour and lives.

Labour history; Madras salt; salt history; salt monopoly; salt work; salt workers

Introduction There is a popular saying in Tamil that food without salt belongs in the garbage. It is striking how a society and culture celebrates the value of salt, one of the most essential ingredients in human consumption, while the makers of salt are invisible in its collective memory. This is true not just in our times but was the case in history as well. In our collective initiative to generate pedagogic resources about the real value of salt labour in society, we witnessed an absence of labour in the historical records and popular consciousness. This article is a work in progress to develop such a resource. We attempt to trace the continuities in salt work from the workers’ perspective by following the changes the industry has gone through from the early nineteenth century onwards. We argue that the introduction of monopoly conditions in the salt industry by the British East India Company (EIC) perpetuated conditions of dominant caste hegemony over labour relations in the salt industry as well as in land and social relations of production. In addition, the state has hardly concerned itself with the lives of salt workers since the colonial period. We argue, based on our interactions with salt workers in the Marakkanam, Vedaranyam and Thoothukudi (earlier Tuticorin) regions of salt-making in South India, that this monopoly has created conditions of dependency and continuous vulnerability of salt workers to exploitative labour relations and indebtedness. We show how the predominant concern of the CONTACT Arularasan G.

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ß 2023 South Asian Studies Association of Australia

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state, since colonial times, has been to address the so called ‘inefficiency’ in Indian salt production, which it attempted to improve through a disconnected practice of science that has refused to engage with the working bodies of salt work. We also show how the workers have had only three possible ways to seek justice: unionisation, seeking statutory compliance from state and employers, and the forming of cooperatives. In the first two sections concerning monopoly and labour and in the case of the land relations and caste in the salt industry, we focus on early nineteenth-century Madras (now Chennai) to argue that, historically, there has been little change in the salt industry to address labour concerns. Following this, we take up the present-day scenario of salt labour drawing upon interactions with the salt workers. The purpose is not to draw anachronistic conclusions from history, but to demonstrate elements of change and continuity over a period of almost two centuries. In the subsequent sections concerning the role of the state and the political organising of salt labour, we mostly draw from the testimonies of salt workers.

Monopoly and labour in salt work In 1805, with the introduction of monopoly regulations in salt work by the East India Company in Madras,1 major changes were ushered in to the nature of salt production and distribution. Learning from the Bengal experience where the EIC had assumed total control over production and trade in salt,2 the Madras Board of Revenue followed the same path, confident of producing a higher revenue for the EIC. They considered that the higher production of salt in Madras could be used for export to Bengal as well.3 In effect, the regulations introduced a practice whereby salt manufacturers compulsorily sold their salt to the EIC alone, at a price fixed by the EIC on an annual basis.4 The rate at which salt was sold remained standard throughout the Madras presidency, though procurement rates could differ. If the hereditary manufacturers felt insecure about the EIC usurping their rights over land and labour, modes of compensation were considered.5 This system ensured total control for the EIC as it determined the right to produce salt in the presidency. It has been argued that the conditions of all forms of labour during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries under British colonial rule hardly changed. We are interested in exploring how conditions of monopoly in procurement of salt affected labour relations in Madras presidency in the nineteenth century. During the late eighteenth century, labour relations in the agrarian and domestic sectors in the presidency were dominated by hereditary bondage and slavery.6 A company officer concluded that workers remained slaves to the Mirasdars, dependent on them for their livelihood.

1. An Inquiry into Some of the Principal Monopolies of the East India Company (London: James Ridgway, 1830): 35. 2. K. Kamaladevi, ‘Salt Policy of the British: A Case Study of the Madras Presidency (unpublished PhD thesis, Sri Venkateswara University, 2000): 39. 3. Memorandum on Salt, Selections from the Records of the Madras Government (Madras: Government Gazette Press, 1855): 81. 4. Shugan Chand Aggarwal, The Salt Industry in India (Simla: Government of India Publications, 1937): 92. 5. K.V. Jeyaraj, A History of Salt Monopoly in Madras Presidency (1805–1878) (Madurai: Ennes Publications, 1984): 43. 6. Slavery in India: Papers Relative to Slavery in India (London: House of Commons, 1834): 31.

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He talked of their paltry wages and starvation.7 Ahuja explains how the system of bonded labour, with the pannaiyals (farm workers) comprising the Paraiyars and Pallars in the oppressed caste sections, was tied to big landholders (Mirasdars), who controlled land and production.8 From the archival records we derive the information that the Board of Revenue preferred the Mirasdars as private salt producers for their ability to control labour, which suited their needs to expand salt cultivation and increase production. Hence, in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, most salt workers remained enslaved and bonded, with little freedom to choose. In the EIC’s salt farms, employment of casual labour on a commercial basis was considered an efficient means to reduce the cost of production. This was not advocated to the Mirasdars or independent salt producers for fear that it would encroach on the traditional social relations between producers and workers.9 Thus, the EIC did not interfere in existing labour relations at all while trying to make changes in the salt industry. The debate about the salt monopoly system in colonial India is dominated by economic rationale about revenue and prices, with little reference to the conditions of salt workers. The EIC was more concerned about the salt producers and argued that it provided security for the salt producers with its promise of total procurement at a fixed price. It even promised initial capital to cover the costs of production to the producers. Guaranteed production and its procurement became the mutual contract between the EIC and the producers, marking the introduction of trade monopoly in salt. However, the fundamental role of salt workers in making the production possible did not figure in any rationale. There was only one instance when the salt consumer figured, when a collector cautioned about a price rise due to monopoly,10 but none about the nature of the relations between the producer and the worker. We contend that any change in the production and distribution of salt must be studied through the changes in the labour process. Given the near complete absence of the salt worker in the archive, we attempt here to think about the consequences of the monopoly on the worker in the early nineteenth century. Madras salt, also known as coastal salt, even if considered poor in quality, was instrumental in catering to the EIC’s Bengal salt trade. It enabled the EIC to keep its ‘high price policy’ in order to gain higher revenues from salt, through the elaborate network of private traders such as the Nattukkottai Chettiars,11 Labbay and Maraikkayars, who were very important in the EIC’s scheme, not to mention the ports and harbours along the Coromandel coast.12 This trading network was dependent on a steady supply of salt to be wholly procured by the EIC, which fixed the rate 7. S. Srinivasa Raghavaiyangar, Memorandum on the Progress of the Madras Presidency during the Last Forty Years of British Administration (Madras: Government Press, 1893): 145. 8. Ravi Ahuja, ‘Labour Relations in an Early Colonial Context: Madras, c.1750–1800’, Modern Asian Studies, 36, no. 4 (2002): 793–826. 9. Jeyaraj, Salt Monopoly, 67. 10. Memorandum on Salt, 8. 11. For more on the Chettiars, see Raman Mahadevan, ‘Immigrant Entrepreneurs in Colonial Burma: An Exploratory Study of the Role of Nattukottai Chettiars of Tamil Nadu, 1880–1930’, Indian Economic and Social History Review 15, no. 3 (1978): 329–58. 12. Sayako Kanda, ‘Competition or Collaboration? Importers of Salt, the East India Company, and the Salt Makers in Eastern India, c. 1780–1836’, in Memory, Identity and the Colonial Encounter in India: Essays in Honour of Peter Robb, ed. Ezra Rashkow, Sanjukta Ghosh and Upal Chakrabarti (London: Routledge, 2018): 249–75.

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of procurement from the producers. With a fixed annual rate, it was impossible to negotiate prices at the point of sale since the producer had the EIC as the only choice for the sale of his salt. Salt not procured by the EIC was destroyed in order to prevent a parallel trade. In such conditions, the only way for the producer to retain profits was to cut down on the costs of cultivation, by cutting labour costs. Thus, the EIC’s trade monopoly kept the salt workers in perpetual conditions of debt and bondage. Having made this connection clear, we want to show how such a state of trade monopoly became worse for the salt workers. We take the cases of contemporary Thoothukudi and Marakkanam to make this explicit. The purpose is not to be anachronistic by drawing parallels from the early nineteenth century to today’s scenario, but to show how forms of monopoly continue and make conditions of work difficult for the worker through changes in the labour process. In the beginning of the twentieth century, the Nadars of Tuticorin (Thoothukudi) gained dominance in this region, as they shifted from toddy tapping and trade into several other businesses.13 Nowadays they are extremely influential in the salt trade of Thoothukudi and operate like a monopoly firm. The Nadars exercise coercive authority at will, so much so that no salt can be exchanged without their knowledge and consent. In one recent incident, a Dalit farmer’s son sold salt to a non-Nadar buyer who did not belong to the association of traders. The association called the father and openly threatened his son’s life if he ever traded with anyone outside their organisation. The Nadars also influence the access to formal credit through the Tamil Nadu Mercantile Bank for salt producers.14 In Marakkanam, which is one of the primary salt-producing regions in the state of Tamil Nadu, with about 4,000 acres of salt-pans employing about 6,000 workers,15 there is a single trading firm run by two Nadars and one Mudaliyar which takes the entire production.16 Small-scale salt farmers have complained because the firm fixes the prices and will tolerate no bargaining. If contested, they delay the procurement process, which affects the quality of the salt, resulting in lower prices. Even the grading of the quality of salt is done by them and they decide whether to acquire the salt or not. Delayed procurement or payment for the procured salt affects the salt workers because small-scale farmers are dependent on the returns from the trader to pay their workers. The vicious nature of this dependency is masked by the informal ties between small producers and workers based on trust and familiarity. Interestingly, salt farmers complain about the increasing cost of production of salt by blaming the increasing wages of the workers. However, it is traders who continue to fix the prices and they alone determine the quantum of returns, often unfavourable to the salt farmer.17 The dominant trader remains the most influential in the salt industry. In colonial India, the East India Company retained its dominance of trade by controlling the 13. Robert L. Hardgrave, The Nadars of Tamilnadu: The Political Culture of a Community in Change (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1969). 14. Kombaiya, small-scale salt manufacturer, interviewed by Arularasan G. and Balaharish V., Thoothukudi, Tamil Nadu, March 20, 2022. 15. Abinaya Kalyanasundaram, ‘All That’s White Is Salt’, The New Indian Express, August 2, 2017, accessed November 25, 2022, https://www.newindianexpress.com/cities/chennai/2017/aug/02/all-thats-white-is-salt-1637383.html. 16. Manohar, salt-pan worker, interviewed by Senthil Babu D., Marakkanam, Tamil Nadu, January 5, 2020. 17. Dhanapal, small-scale salt manufacturer, interviewed by Arularasan G. and Balaharish V., Thoothukudi, Tamil Nadu, March 21, 2022.

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movement of salt and its price under the monopoly system. This allowed the extraction of labour by the Mirasdars through bondage to continue uninterrupted. In fact, there is reason to argue that their work burden increased under the Mirasdars who wanted to produce more salt. In the contemporary case, the dominant caste trader networks that grade salt, fix prices and control the exchange of salt are the reason why the salt producers refuse to pay the workers statutory minimum wages. They argue that it is not viable to pay full wages and blame the labour process rather than unfair exchange with traders. They also argue that salt work is seasonal and the workers do not work eight hours a day, therefore they do not deserve full wages.18 Thus, we see how conditions of monopoly influence the nature of extraction of labour by producers in two different instances in history.

Salt, land and caste Expansion of salt production in the early nineteenth century during the establishment of monopoly was pushed by the East India Company since salt lands yielded more revenue than agricultural lands.19 The competition to produce more salt by these incentives pushed land value upwards in coastal areas creating a market for land and salt, altogether pushing up salt prices.20 But who were these salt producers under colonial rule? The right to making salt was given to the Mirasdars, whom the Board of Revenue considered to be native, hereditary inhabitants with usufructuary privilege over land on which salt could be made.21 But the foremost consideration was that the Mirasdars could ensure the continuous labour supply required for the production of salt. Thus, the Mirasdars and the dominant caste landowners in salt-making regions became the salt producers.22 The early dominance of the upper-caste Mirasdars was ensured by certain concessions. The EIC assured these landlords of non-interference in their so-called hereditary rights over labour control.23 In other words, the EIC would not disrupt labour relations that could impact salt production and supply. The assured procurement for producers, in all seasons, at a fixed price, was considered by the EIC as ensuring ‘security from contingencies which he did not possess before: this security stimulates his industry and cheers his labour’.24 The EIC also offered compensation to the Mirasdars if it compelled them to convert their land into salt-pans. In other instances, if the EIC closed existing salt-pans, the landowners were paid compensation as well.25 Closure of existing pans was often justified by bad salt quality, as in the case of the Ennore salt-pans.26 18. Labour Deputy Commissioner to the Chief Secretary of Government, Tamil Nadu, Labour and Employment Department of Tamil Nadu, February 4, 2021: 3–4. 19. Memorandum on Salt, 25. 20. Dharma Kumar and Meghnad Desai, ed., The Cambridge Economic History of India, Vol II: c. 1757–c. 1970 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,1982): 919. 21. Memorandum on Salt, point 21, 8. 22. C.J. Bird to W.H. Bayley, May 4, 1854, Tamil Nadu State Archives, Chennai, India (henceforth, TNA). 23. Jeyaraj, Salt Monopoly, 41–42. 24. Minute of Mr. Falconar (June 28, 1804), pt. 21, as cited in Memorandum on Salt, 71–72. 25. Memorandum on Salt, 26. 26. Jeyaraj, Salt Monopoly, 57.

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However, it is not clear from the reports if the relations between the Mirasdars and the EIC were entirely smooth. There were possibilities of conflicts when the EIC closed the pans if the Mirasdars did not meet the assigned target of production.27 Sometimes, the Mirasdars wanted more compensation from the EIC when it did not procure all the salt they produced, or delayed the procurement, as this degraded the salt.28 This language of incentives and compensation seems to pervade the early colonial archive concerning salt in the Madras presidency records. The dominant caste control over salt cemented the persistent presence of oppressed castes in salt work for over two centuries in the three regions. Even during the shift to the excise system in the second half of the nineteenth century,29 the system and modes of administration changed without affecting the hold of the dominant castes over salt production. From the various Board of Revenue reports about compensations provided by the colonial government, we can see that the dominant castes who owned salt lands were the Mudaliars, Pillais and Brahmans.30 This relationship of caste hegemony and labour extraction continued well into the post-Independence period and persists even today. Conditions of slavery controlled by the dominant castes continue to exist as they are integral to the labour process that ensures the production of salt. The Salt Expert Committee Report of 1950 provides a picture of how the dominant castes controlled salt work. In Table 1, we provide information about the number of licences and the extent of land in the three major salt-producing sites and compare them with the information available in 2020. In 1950, the largest licence holder held 96 acres in Vedaranyam.31 In Chunampet, one zamindar held the licence for 405 acres in 1950.32 In Marakkanam, one licence holder owned 138 acres in 1950.33 In Tuticorin, in the same year, in nine different factories, the largest holdings ranged from 18 to 335 acres.34 The 1950 report does not explicitly correlate landholding patterns with caste. However, oral interviews with Table 1. Comparison of area of salt cultivation and number of licensees, 1950 and 2020. Name of the site Vedaranyam Chunampet Marakkanam Tuticorin/Thoothukudi

Area cultivated in 1950 (in acres) 232 425 658 1,655

Number of licences in 1950 83 12 67 672

Area cultivated in 2020 (in acres) 9,000 450 4,000 25,000

Number of licences in 2020 750 2 100 (approx.) 44

Number of salt workers in 2020 10,000 500 6,000 30,000

Source: Compiled by authors. The data for 1950 is derived from the Report of the Salt Experts Committee (Delhi: Manager of Publications, Delhi, 1950). The data for 2020 was obtained from the people concerned, newspaper reports and Right to Information queries.

27. 28. 29. 30.

31. 32. 33. 34.

Memorandum on Salt, point 100, 26. ‘Revenue Consultations’, July 25, 1805: 144, 1525–33, TNA. Kamaladevi, ‘Salt Policy of the British’, 60. Proceedings of the Board of Revenue (1839): 129–30, TNA; Proceedings of the Board of Revenue (1843): 106, TNA; Proceedings of the Board of Revenue (1847): 115, TNA; Proceedings of the Board of Revenue (1849): 104– 05, TNA; Report of the Commissioner Appointed to Inquire into and Report upon the Manufacture and Sale of and Tax upon Salt in British India (London: Harrison & Sons, 1856): 298. Report of the Salt Experts Committee, 239. Ibid., 236. Ibid., 236. Ibid., 249–52.

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people on these sites show that the largest landholders belong to the dominant caste groups: the Pillais in Vedaranyam, the Mudalis in Marakkanam and the Nadars in Tuticorin, while the largest number of salt workers are Dalits, from the Paraiyar and Pallar sub-castes. From the fieldwork, we can confidently say that the hegemony of the dominant castes prevails over every aspect of salt work, by controlling the labour process and exerting a clear coercive dominance over the Dalit salt workers in all the regions under study. In contemporary Vedaranyam, there are 52 blocks of salt-pans, where about 9,000 workers make salt.35 Apart from this, there are major industrial plants such as the Chemplast-Sanmar group and Gujarat Heavy Chemicals, which hold large blocks on their own. There are several exclusive Dalit labour settlements, such as Poovanthoppu, Kanakankadu and Andarkadu, whose workers depend on salt work for their livelihoods. Caste-based physical segregation is rampant in the area. In Maniyantheevu village, the Mutharaiyars live and work with their own salt-pans, by sub-leasing or by transfer. In Vembathevankadu, the Thevars live and work by themselves, employing workers from their own caste, while a few others employ Dalit workers from other settlements. The dominant Pillais own some of the largest blocks, for example, the ownership of H Block of about 500 acres held by one Vedharathinam Pillai.36 However, despite this variety, the caste-kinship dominance of the Pillais remains hegemonic, as they have a say in all aspects of the salt industry in Vedaranyam. Their prominence curiously occurred with their leadership of the famous Salt Satyagraha led by C. Rajagopalachari in tandem with Gandhi’s Salt Satyagraha in 1930.37 Traditionally supporters of the Congress Party, the Pillais also control the Indian National Trade Union Congress (INTUC), its trade union. By exploring their hegemonic role in the labour process of salt work, we illustrate how the caste-kinship legacy from the past still rules the lives of the salt workers. There is a labour contract system that persists in the salt work of Vedaranyam, called the ‘nattamai’ system. The nattamai organises and regulates the labour supply, primarily for the packing and loading of salt. He acts as the middleman between manufacturers and traders. The contractors are self-organised and each of them controls about ten to 25 labourers, and they delegate these labourers to the sites where labour is needed. The nattamais owe their allegiance to the INTUC, of which Vedharathinam Pillai has been the leader for decades. Even though it is the formal leadership of a union, his clan hegemony is evident in the way all the nattamais follow his influence.38 For instance, even after the High-Level Salt Committee of the government in 1980 recommended 55–75 kilos per unit packing,39 salt bags were being packed at 100 kilos per unit. It was only after the intervention of the Pillai clan that this was reduced to a maximum of 70 kilos per bag in 2000. The traders are 35. Ilango, salt-packing worker, interviewed by Arularasan G. and Balaharish V., Vedaranyam, Tamil Nadu, March 13, 2022. 36. Ilango, salt-packing worker, interviewed by Arularasan G. and Balaharish V., Vedaranyam, Tamil Nadu, March 13, 2022. [uppittavarai] (Nakark ovil: Kalaccuvat: u Patippakam, 2009): 63. 37. A. Sivasubramanian, 38. Ilango, salt-packing worker, interviewed by Arularasan G. and Balaharish V., Vedaranyam, Tamil Nadu, March 13, 2022. 39. Report of the High-Level Salt Enquiry Committee (New Delhi: Ministry of Industry, Government of India, 1980): 50.

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dependent on the nattamais for procuring salt, since the nattamais handle the transportation and packing. Interestingly, the nattamais were organised by the Pillai clan by allotting salt blocks to each nattamai and assuring them payment equal to one labourer’s wage and, in addition, Rs10 for each labourer he supplies to the site. The job security from this system has made the nattamais loyal to the Pillais, who control both the movement of salt and the labour force in Vedaranyam. Thus, as is evident from the above example, forms of labour control were tied to caste-based landholding from the mirasi times and continue in varied forms even today. The non-interference in the social relations of labour since the time of the East India Company has not changed in independent India either. This history is not readily available in the archive but needs to be reconstructed from beyond the archive. One of the ways of demonstrating continuity is from the testimonies of the workers today. The following section explores the extractive nature of the relationship between salt workers and the producer-trader complex through these testimonies.

Bringing in the voice of the salt workers One of the striking features of the salt production system is the near complete dependence of workers in all the three regions we have studied. Monsoons heavily affect salt production during June to December. Production is affected for at least 15 days by the South West monsoon, and the North West monsoon, which hits during October to December, leaves no option for production and increases the vulnerability of the workers. Though salt work is characterised as seasonal, the workers do not consider it as seasonal work. They rarely have other occupations, even during the off season. While men in Marakkanam could still find informal jobs in construction, those in Vedaranyam and Thoothukudi are unable to find alternative jobs during the off season. Irrespective of the region, women salt workers are totally dependent on salt work since it is impossible for them to migrate to work or travel long distances from their settlements, considering transport costs. Women belonging to salt-working families often end up engaging in salt work as the following testimony shows: I started salt work when I was barely 14 when I joined my mother to do salt work, but I was not paid for my work then. Now, I am working in the pans, harvesting salt. I have two daughters, one of whom works with me in the pans, and the other manages the domestic responsibilities. Just like I went with my mother, my daughter accompanies me to do salt work and is not getting paid for it.40

A 42-year-old salt worker in Thoothukudi said, ‘I started working here when I was 13 years old, with a wage of 15 rupees for a day’.41 One of the reasons for sticking to salt work, according to her, is the guarantee of getting work and the annual festival bonus which brings in an additional few thousand rupees. Along with this dependency, the workers become more vulnerable because of wage contracts. There are different kinds of wage relations in each of the three regions. In 40. Muniyammal, salt-pan worker, interviewed by Arularasan G. and Balaharish V., Marakkanam, Tamil Nadu, June 1, 2022. 41. Rajeshwari, salt-pan worker, interviewed by Arularasan G. and Balaharish V., Thoothukudi, Tamil Nadu, March 20, 2022.

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Marakkanam, it is mostly daily wage work, which ranges from Rs350 for women and up to Rs500 for men. In Thoothukudi, there is predominantly daily wage work, even though it is not uncommon to find workers taking an advance of small amounts on the guarantee that they will work with a particular producer for the entire season. However, in Vedaranyam, the system of advance contract continues to be the most exploitative: It [advance system] is a long-time practice. They offer us money during the Diwali season. Usually, the person who owns a few acres of salt land, comes in search of workers during the off season which coincides with the festival as well as the monsoons. We assure them that we will work for them and get the advance. The advance amount differs with the owners and also with the number of acres they have. The Diwali bonus system is what we get, and we work the rest of the season in paying back the money, which they give us as advance, of about 30,000 rupees. Of this, sometimes, we get a balance of not more than 1,000 to 2,000 rupees, and most of the time, we end up in debt.42

This system is more exploitative than others as the wage is not calculated based on work hours but on the amount of salt produced, which is about Rs30 for a sack. Of this, Rs15 is counted as wages and the remaining taken as repayment for the advance. The workers are simply told the number of sacks produced at the end of the week. As a result, after repaying the advance with their contributions at the end of every week (they are paid a maximum of Rs1,000 every week, but it could be Rs500, depending on the employer),43 the worker’s family must live on half the wages for the entire working season, resulting in indebtedness. This problem becomes acute during the monsoon season when there is no salt work. In fact, seasonality has remained a curse for the salt workers. The three-plus months without work force them to look for ways of paying for expenses primarily from the credit market or by entering into exploitative contracts with employers, such as the Diwali advance payment in Vedaranyam, which creates bondage to a particular employer. This seasonality works in favour of the employers who impose the consequences of uncertainty upon the workers in this lean period. Moreover, if the subsequent season is affected by natural causes, such as cyclones and floods, the burden falls entirely on the workers. This cycle of indebtedness, in turn, creates further dependency of the workers on employers, which influences the way in which the labour process and social relations come together in perpetuating exploitation. This is also one of the reasons why salt work, which is legally categorised as factory work, has never been realised in practice as such. Regulatory bodies routinely dismiss it as seasonal labour and not organised industrial labour. Despite many laws governing salt work, the workers are tagged as seasonal labour by the producers and by the regulatory authorities, who use it as an excuse to deny them the benefits available from legal provisions.44

42. Rajamuthu, salt-pan worker, interviewed by Arularasan G. and Balaharish V., Agasthiyampalli, Tamil Nadu, March 11, 2022. 43. Focus group discussion with seven women salt-pan workers, facilitated by Arularasan G. and Balaharish V., Vedaranyam, Tamil Nadu, March 12, 2022. 44. Report of the Committee Appointed by the Government of India to Consider Certain Matters Connected with the Development of the Salt Industry (New Delhi: Government of India, 1958): 26; The Minimum Wages (Tamil Nadu) Rule, 1953: 38.

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The living conditions of the workers are equally challenging. Given their proximity to the salt lands, which are routinely inundated during the rains and by the regular cyclonic storms that affect this part of the coast, their habitats are vulnerable. The cost of repair of their homes adds to their burden. Poor access to drinking water and sanitation adds complications to their already fragile health caused primarily by their occupation as salt workers. Continuous exposure to light causes cataracts, poor night vision, inflammation and eye webs.45 Other persistent health issues include skin problems such as discoloration, thickening of the palms of the hands and soles of the feet, dermatitis, nail fungus, dental decay, goitre, obesity and hypertension.46 It has also been observed that salt workers are more prone to renal diseases due to dehydration.47 Renal diseases strike workers in their mid thirties, creating the need for continuous medical care and a much shorter lifespan. This adds to the burden of women, as single women increasingly head households. Chronic malnutrition and low body weight is higher among low-wage salt workers, who are anaemic, with low mean haemoglobin levels, primarily due to a monotonous diet.48 Women salt workers are the most affected, with serious consequences for their health. Lack of shade and toilet facilities make them vulnerable to infections. They are also prone to miscarriage because of high exposure to heat while working and carrying heavy loads.49 Lack of primary health care and the poor quality of public health delivery services in the habitats of the salt workers in all three regions has increasingly pushed them to private, expensive medical care, a leading reason for indebtedness. Given these vulnerable conditions, salt workers look to informal lending markets, with sources of credit becoming diverse. The coming in of the microfinance industry has created new avenues of extracting workers’ wages as interest payments. As the wages are spent in loan repayment, expenses for nutrition, education and health care become more dependent on credit, resulting in a debt trap. To repay loans from microfinance companies, women borrow from moneylenders, defeating the very rationale of microfinance, which was supposed to wean them away from debt traps. A salt worker in Thoothukudi said that if she took a Rs10,000 loan, she would have to pay Rs700 every month towards the interest, and repayment of the principal would have to wait:50 I have taken three loans, each of 50,000 rupees. The MFI [i.e. microfinance] agents will visit our village and tell us about the loan schemes. They may not compel us, but the ready availability and our situation makes us accept the loan at this cost. We think it will meet our needs, temporarily. If we are unable to repay the amount to MFI agents, 45. Murli L. Mathur et al., ‘The Risk of Pterygium in Salt Workers’, International Ophthalmology 26, nos. 1–2 (2005): 43–47; S. Murugan, K. Muthalagu and D. Durairaj, ‘Opinion on Occupational Health Problems among Salt Workers at Saltpan in Tamilnadu’, International Journal of Pharmaceutical Sciences Review and Research 41, no. 2 (2016): 302–05. 46. Johnson Cherian et al., ‘Study of Morbidity Pattern among Salt Workers in Marakkanam, Tamil Nadu, India’, Journal of Clinical and Diagnostic Research 9, no. 4 (2015): 1–3. 47. Titaporn Luangwilai, Mark Gregory Robson and Wattasit Siriwong, ‘Effect of Heat Exposure on Dehydration and Kidney Function among Sea Salt Workers in Thailand’, Roczniki Panstwowego Zakladu Higieny 72, no. 4 (2021): 435–42. 48. Mayuri Banerjee Bhattacharya, ‘Evaluating Overall Social and Health Status of Salt Workers in Experimental Salt Fields at Bhavnagar, Gujarat, India’, MOJ Public Health 5, no. 3 (2017): 97–99. 49. N. Raghunathan et al., Situation Analysis of Salt Workers in Tamil Nadu (Bangalore: Vrutti Livelihoods Resource Centre, 2008): 30. 50. Lingammal, salt-pan worker, interviewed by Arularasan G. and Balaharish V., Thoothukudi, Tamil Nadu, March 20, 2022.

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we get loan amount on interest from somewhere else and pay this agent, and it continues. We suffer a lot, in spite of working hard, unable to save money … can’t save any gold at home, everything is in the pawn shop.51

She added that borrowing from the microfinance companies is slightly better in the beginning because the interest and the principal can be repaid together every month. But when they were unable to repay, the microfinance company agents threatened to lock their Aadhar (ID) cards, which meant that they could not borrow any more. Another worker added, ‘we don’t know of any other job than working in salt-pans. These agents usually target the salt-pan workers especially during the off-season’.52 When we were young, we did not have any loans. We spent what our earnings allowed us, but our condition was not good then. Now, we avail these loans, to renovate my home which is affected by rain, to lay plastic sheds outside in the front for sunny days, making fences and to the education of children and so on … . But we know that we are trapped inside this.53

This shows how vulnerable women working in the salt-pans are to the perils of dependency on one single produce and source of employment in the same landscape for years. The finance to meet basic needs to socially reproduce labour has been taken over by a private credit market through its elaborate lending infrastructure. As a seasoned trade unionist of Thoothukudi said, any understanding of salt work must necessarily begin with women’s work in salt: If you ever want to study salt work, you can’t see this from men’s perspective. It should be necessarily understood through women’s work … just imagine the condition of the elder girl child, when she cannot go to school, either to support the household work or to work in the pans herself. Understanding how they feel is very important.54

He said that the average wages of salt workers are much lower compared to other, even unorganised, workers: The central government office is only interested in what the owner pays the office, they don’t care about the condition of workers. Same in the case of the state government. In private lands, it is much worse. Salt-pan workers are literally harvesting white diamonds, but workers are alienated from the price salt has in the market. The value of the salt increases more than 100 times before it reaches the end.55

What has been the state’s concern? We have seen earlier how, from the times of the East India Company, no change in salt administration has addressed the concerns of the salt workers, in particular the 51. Kavitha, salt-pan worker, interviewed by Arularasan G. and Balaharish V., Vedaranyam, Tamil Nadu, March 11, 2022. 52. Ranjani, salt-pan worker, interviewed by Arularasan G. and Balaharish V., Vedaranyam, Tamil Nadu, March 11, 2022. 53. Focus group discussion with seven women salt-pan workers, facilitated by Arularasan G. and Balaharish V., Vedaranyam, Tamil Nadu, March 12, 2022. 54. Krishnamoorthi, trade union leader, interviewed by Arularasan G. and Balaharish V., Thoothukudi, Tamil Nadu, March 22, 2022. 55. Krishnamoorthi, trade union leader, interviewed by Arularasan G. and Balaharish V., Thoothukudi, Tamil Nadu, March 22, 2022.

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basic question of decent wages and the quality of working conditions. In various reports periodically produced by the state on the salt industry from the colonial era to Independence and after 1947, there is no substantive evidence to show how the state actually responded to the workers. In the colonial period, the state was not willing to intervene in regulating oppressive labour conditions for fear that it might alter the structures of labour supply rooted in the caste hierarchies. Dominant caste landholders, such as the Mirasdars, resisted attempts by the state, both in terms of regulations and welfare, on the grounds of caste patronage at the settlements and the possibility of agricultural work provided by them for the pariah labour.56 This did not change much during the initial decades of the post-Independence period, when a new class of labourers came to constitute what is now recognised as informal sector workers. The local capitalist class actively resisted any attempt by the state to even provide a legislative recognition for the informal sector workers.57 What appears to have been the primary concern for both the colonial and postcolonial state was the question of ‘inefficiency’ in the production process of salt. The predominant concern for the state remained one of improvement regarding the quantity and quality of production,58 but not of justice to the actual makers of the salt. In the available public records over the last 200 years, while labour figures as a variable of inefficiency, the cost of labour is not even historically calculated into the elaborate financial accounting of the industry done at regular intervals. The construction of inefficiency is primarily based upon farming techniques with a view to prescribing innovations on the farm with two primary objectives: (1) improvement of quality; and (2) increased production.59 The cost of production is considered in the 1950 committee report, where labour costs are calculated with an eye on reducing costs.60 Otherwise, the concern was how the Indian salt industry ‘continues to be run like semi-agricultural unit employing age old practices with consequent production of inferior grade salt. No serious attempts have been made by the industry to adopt the latest technological innovations in design of salt works, brine control, harvesting, washing, storage, packing, etc.’.61 The reasons mentioned were lack of a hypothetically scientific approach to salt-making. The 1950 committee laments the absence of knowledge flow from foreign countries about technological improvement and the lack of a culture of following scientific prescriptions such as that of the Central Salt and Marine Chemical Research Institute in Bhavnagar, Gujarat. This was reiterated in 1958 by the Manubhai Shah Committee Report, which argued for a high-quality production culture, reaching as high as 96 percent of sodium chloride in edible salt. Further, it called for large, consolidated farms as small-scale farms might not achieve the desired levels of efficiency.62 The prescriptive 56. Rupa Viswanath, ‘Rethinking Caste and Class: “Labour”, the “Depressed Classes”, and the Politics of Distinctions, Madras 1918–1924’, International Review of Social History 59, no. 1 (2014): 1–37. 57. Karuna Dietrich Wielenga, ‘The Emergence of the Informal Sector: Labour Legislation and Politics in South India, 1940–60’, Modern Asian Studies 54, no. 4 (2020): 1–36. 58. Report of the Salt Experts Committee, 259–61. 59. Ibid., 1. 60. Ibid., 358. 61. Report of the Working Group on Salt Industry (Jaipur: Government of India, 1984): 10. 62. Report of the Committee Appointed by the Government of India to Consider Certain Matters Connected with the Development of the Salt Industry, 45–54.

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knowledge of the experts confined itself to the proportionate calculations of brine and bitterns, worrying about impurity and scale. Their favourite recommendation was the model farm, which fires the imagination of the experts until today.63 The model farm was supposed to demonstrate to the ‘less knowing’ producers costeffective methods of ‘improved’ production. This dissonance between the concerns of scientific inquiry with the political economy of salt-making in the country is striking. The obsessive concern with quality never allowed for consideration of the quality of work as a factor, let alone the health of the worker and the working body as a factor in production. This erasure of labour from the purview of science in its institutionalised form and its prescriptive character has rendered alienation not only possible, but a normalised condition of the industry. Also, in popular consciousness, the working body recedes and wanes, leaves only brine and crystals as the images of salt. The fact that scientific thinking erases the labour process from its consideration is a telling fact of salt work, among many other occupations in our society. For example, one of the persistent hypocrisies of prescriptive technocracy is the recommendation of the use of gumboots for salt workers.64 In fact, it is impossible to work in gumboots at any stage of salt-making, which already creates additional skin problems for the feet. The workers however have invented their own socks, which offer a semblance of protection to the skin from tearing, by stitching a layer of rubber sheet to normal socks. This enables them to walk barefoot on regular soil which would otherwise be painful because of the salt crystals hurting the feet and making them very sensitive.

The salt worker’s quest for dignity and justice Not only in matters of the labour process, but also in that of struggles around wage and dignity, workers are left to find their own path. There seem to be three routes for the workers to organise themselves in order to negotiate with the powers that be. In this section, we outline these pathways, and the possibilities for justice for the salt workers—through unionisation, legal struggles and self-organising through cooperatives. The earliest attempts at the unionisation of salt workers are difficult to trace. Marakkanam, for practical purposes, does not have a salt-workers’ union, even though it exists nominally. The Manual Workers Union (MNU), an independent trade union for unorganised workers in the state, initiated certain attempts to organise salt workers in this region probably in the 1990s.65 In Vedaranyam, the INTUC headed by the Pillai clan is primarily meant for the contractors, without a significant role for the workers themselves. It is telling that a union meant for the workers has become an organisation of contractors due to the hegemonic influence of a dominant clan, unique to this region. In Thoothukudi, there is a stronger trade union presence, with the CITU (Centre of Indian Trade Unions), AITUC (All India Trade Union Congress), MNU, INTUC and LPF (Labour Progressive Federation) all operating here. The collective bargaining 63. Report of the Salt Experts Committee, 359. 64. Report of the Working Group on Salt Industry, 13. 65. Jayabalan, trade union leader, interviewed by Arularasan G., Chennai, Tamil Nadu, March 3, 2020.

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capacity of the salt workers through the unions makes a difference in matters of negotiation with the state and the producers, particularly on questions of the statutory minimum wage. Ponraj, the senior leader of CITU in Thoothukudi, remembers how they first organised the workers of Thoothukudi in 1974, in Pazhayakkayal, when they campaigned for a wage hike from Rs3.50 to Rs4 per day. In 1977, they prepared a charter of demands including payment of the state stipulated minimum wage, payment for holidays, inclusion in the Employment Provident Fund, payment of gratuity and bonus and similar issues, including full compliance with the Indian Factories Act, where it concerns labour laws. They went on strike for two weeks, which is still remembered today by the salt workers as one of the first attempts at resistance in which they succeeded. The then collector of Thirunelveli agreed to the demand for a wage hike, slippers for the workers and annual leave of nine days. In 2009, after a long gap, a major protest was organised which ensured holiday wages for the workers. In the meanwhile, every two years, there have been strikes at the time of routine wage revisions, at least for a day, to insist on the necessity of a wage hike, with mixed results.66 It is important to document these struggles in order to reconstruct a meaningful history of collective action by the salt workers in Thoothukudi. In May 2020, during negotiations between unions and producers, the latter proposed a wage lower than the state stipulated minimum wage for that year. While the CITU did not agree with this, the owners finalised an agreement with the other unions. On May 26, the Labour Office of the district reiterated that the owners would have to comply with the statutory wage of Rs466, which the owners refused. Their reasoning had interesting implications. The owners argued that the workers did not deserve minimum wages since they did not work for eight hours a day as did other factory workers, but for four hours at the most, with some workers doing two shifts on different farms. Because of the seasonal nature of salt work, workers are engaged only from March to September. Given this, the owners argued that they are already paying a wage that was 175 times higher than deserved.67 In fact, they said, the workers do not even deserve the seventh day’s wage since they work for four hours a day and just 24 hours a week.68 They accused the CITU of disrupting the ‘good relations’ between the producers and workers by refusing to sign the wage agreement. The Labour Officer forwarded the dispute to the Industrial Tribunal of the state.69 The CITU fought this case in the tribunal by mobilising counter-arguments. These covered the historical record of minimum wage stipulated by the state and how this was actually complied with. They examined aspects of salt work involving the labour process to establish how it is impossible to do salt work in a mere four hours per day; they also estimated the historical average profit made by the producers to prove how the owners can afford to pay the minimum wage and still 66. Ponraj, senior trade union leader, interviewed by Arularasan G., Balaharish V. and Arun Kumar, Thoothukudi, Tamil Nadu, March 19, 2022. 67. Labour Deputy Commissioner to the Chief Secretary of Government, February 4, 2021, 3. 68. Ibid., 4. 69. Ibid., 10.

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be able to make a profit, and argued for constitutional compliance from the salt owners. In a first of its kind, the tribunal awarded a judgement in favour of the salt workers on December 23, 2021.70 This goes to show that at times when unionisation itself is facing challenges of organising, utilising legal means to ensure justice has become important to aid and facilitate collective action. However, there is still a long way to go before the unions begin to address issues of the workplace and reorient their approach to salt work from the women workers’ perspective. While this is the case with small-scale production-based salt workers, the struggle of industrial salt workers is no different, as is evident in the case of the long-drawnout struggle of the workers of Padma Chemicals in Chunampet, Chinglepet district, in the state. The industry is registered under the Factories Act but has never complied with the labour laws integral to the Act. While the independent trade union, the Tamil Nadu Salt pan and Coastal Labourer’s Welfare Association, has consistently fought for the rights of the workers by approaching the courts of law, and has also gained favourable judgements, these are still not followed by the company.71 This shows how managerial impunity pervades the lives of the salt workers, denying them their constitutional rights. The third pathway for the workers has historically been through the self-organised cooperatives. In Marakkanam, the cooperatives have a long history, which must be documented properly. The Marakkanam Adi Dravida Cooperative Society started its journey in 1937 as the Marakkanam Licensees Cooperative Society, with Rs2,000 as shares by the upper-caste land lessees to avail the subsidies provided by the colonial state. After Independence, the Society was revived in 1952 under the guidance of two followers of Vinoba Bhave, as part of the Bhoodan movement. They helped organise the workers to take on the administration of the Society under a new name, the Marakkanam Cooperative Society. While this helped bring the Society under the control of Dalit workers, it had to struggle for more than a decade before the cooperative became profitable. As the cooperative started its successful run in 1970, the shareholders of the original Society started making demands on it. The cooperative not only managed to buy these shares back from the upper-caste shareholders but also renamed itself Marakkanam Adhi Dravidar Salt Producers Cooperative Society, so that only Dalit workers could become members of the cooperative. The cooperative, with 150 Dalit shareholders, leased over 190 acres of land.72 The success of the Society is exemplified by the fact that its workers enjoyed guaranteed workers’ rights, including an eight-hour working day, weekly days off, bonus, Employees’ State Insurance and Provident Fund. Considering that workers in salt production are considered informal and do not have any protection under the labour laws, this is phenomenal. 70. Salt Labour Union (CITU) vs The Management of Salt Manufacturers & Merchants Union, and Small Scale Salt Manufacturers Union, Industrial Tribunal, Tamil Nadu, December 23, 2021. 71. Umanath, president of Tamil Nadu Salt Pan and Coastal Labourers’ Welfare Association, interviewed by Arularasan G. and Balaharish V., Marakkanam, Tamil Nadu, January 4, 2022. 72. Anbazhagan, ex-member of a cooperative, interviewed by Chandrika R., Marakkanam, Tamil Nadu, February 11, 2016. We thank Chandrika R. for sharing her interviews with us.

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In 1990s, the Society incurred heavy losses due to a price decrease and its inability to move to iodine-based salt production.73 The 2000s saw further decline as most of the members who were critical to the success of the operation retired. In 2002, the state brought all the cooperatives under Special Officers. This meant that accountability by board members over administration was removed and no board-member elections were called. There were allegations of corruption by successive secretaries. No new members could be recruited, and the older membership was ageing and could not be replaced. The only hope of keeping the cooperative floating was to ask for assured procurement of salt by the state government. That is when the state government packaged and supplied subsidised edible salt under the brand name Amma Salt.74 This revived the hopes of the cooperatives for a little while, but they continue to face the challenge of keeping themselves alive, with dwindling membership and absence of active state support. The state remains impervious to the long history of injustice against the salt workers and allows for a patronage-centred politics where local political classes treat them as vote banks. Recently, due to active lobbying by certain activist groups, the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK), in its election manifesto, promised a rainy season compensation to salt workers, and announced the same after it came to power. However, the eternal problem of classifying salt workers as factory workers by law but treating them as seasonal informal workers surfaced again, and for all practical reasons, the announcement has not yielded any positive outcomes for the salt workers. Moreover, the government ordered that only salt workers registered in the Unorganised Workers Welfare Board were entitled to the compensation, which accounted for only 8,465 workers.75 Though the government was approached to provide concessions from this norm, it has yet to respond to the plea. Moreover, digital management of welfare schemes has complicated the possibility of access to available welfare for the workers. The long history of evasive justice for salt workers only shows how important it is to continue organised collective action. However, the recent move by the central government for cancellation of licences to all small-scale holdings pushes salt workers towards precarity even if these small producers remain perpetrators of caste discrimination against them. There is a lurking fear among the producers and the workers that this move by the government will bring back monopolycentred large holdings, where licences would be awarded to large corporations. Once again, we see the early colonial logic of monopoly resurfacing in the name of promoting efficiency and scientific farming, as technocrats have always insisted it does. Once again, the salt workers are facing a new set of challenges in their fight to achieve dignity and justice.

73. Sammandam, ex-secretary of a cooperative, interviewed by Chandrika R., Marakkanam, Tamil Nadu, February 11, 2016. 74. Ettian, ex-member of a cooperative, interviewed by Chandrika R., Marakkanam, Tamil Nadu, February 11, 2016. 75. Government Order G.O.(Ms). no. 69, March 30, 2022, Industries Department, Government of Tamil Nadu.

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Acknowledgements We thank the salt workers of Marakkanam, Vedaranyam and Thoothukudi, who agreed to speak to us despite their pressing concerns and tedious work day. We would like to acknowledge the contribution of friends of our collective who supported the work behind this essay. We also thank the Department of Social Sciences, French Institute of Pondicherry, for supporting our fieldwork interaction with the salt workers.

Disclosure statement No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

ORCID Senthil Babu D.

http://orcid.org/0000-0003-3970-0648