Human Highways

• From 2005-07, almost three lakh Purvanchalis (migrants from eastern UP and Bihar) flee Assam because of sporadic attacks by locals. It climaxes in terror killings by the ULFA in January 2007.
  
• In October 2007, militants bomb a Ludhiana cinema hall screening a Bhojpuri film. Seven migrant labourers die.
  
• In January 2008, Karnataka Raksh-ana Vedike (KRV) activists storm railway recruitment centres in Bangalore, Mysore and Hubli, protesting that Purvanchali candidates are jeopardising the prospects of locals.
  
• Earlier this month, Raj Thackeray's MNS unleashes a campaign of hatred against Purvanchali migrants across Maharashtra.

From superstar Amitabh Bachchan and poet Kaifi Azmi to owners of milk businesses, taxi drivers, carpenters and itinerant farm labourers, the Purvanchalis have enriched the economy of the cities and villages they made their new homes. But as their numbers multiplied, they grew more visible and began to cut into the political, social and economic space of those who consider themselves the "original settlers". And then the problems began. They were welcomed as long as they were seen as dispensers of much-needed services, occasionally even as providers of jobs as they grew prosperous, or became handy "votebanks". But once they graduated to become competitors for government jobs and inadequate civic amenities, "encroachers" in the cultural arena and, finally, as elected political representatives in their new homes, they became easy targets.

Over the years, especially in Maharashtra and Assam, many of them realised that having achieved a critical mass in their new homes, they could promote the interests of their community better by becoming elected political representatives rather than remain as members of captive "votebanks". For local political parties, two options, therefore, opened up: to either coopt these political aspirants by absorbing them in their own parties (so that they don't become rival centres of power) or consolidate their "local constituents" by making the Purvanchalis objects of hate.

In Maharashtra, for instance, from the early 1960s, a succession of Purvanchalis became Congress corporators, mlas and ministers: Krupa Shankar Singh (MoS for home from 1999-2004 in the state) gives the credit to "enlightened" Congress leaders—from Vasantdada Patil and Y.B. Chavan to Sharad Pawar (now in the NCP). Currently, the Congress has three mlas—Krupa Shankar, Sayyed Ahmed and Naseem Khan. Even the current 227-strong Mumbai Mahanagar Palika has 35 Purvanchalis. If the Congress realised how important it was to create a political space for this increasingly powerful group, in the late 1990s, the Shiv Sena, the progenitor of hate politics in Maharashtra, too began to woo the Purvanchalis. This shift in Sena policy is what enabled Raj Thackeray to now move in for the kill, to try and separate the Marathi vote from the Sena by attacking the Purvanchalis.

Assam, which has seen half its migrant population from Purvanchal depleted in the last few years because of attacks by ULFA and other militant groups, interestingly has seven mlas from the demographic, the Congress' Ajit Singh, Jibon Tara Ghatowar, Raju Sahu, Rajendra Prasad Singh and Rameshwar Dhanowar, and the BJP's Shambhu Singh Mallah and Rameshwar Teli Of these, five belong to Upper Assam where a large number of Purvanchali migrants have settled down. But despite the significant Purvanchali representation in the Assam assembly, only one was made a minister—ex-Tin- sukia mla S.S. Ojha (Congress), who was the powerful transport and tourism minister under Hiteswar Saikia.

West Bengal presents a contrast to these two states. Here, all political parties have absorbed the migrants. The state assembly currently has three Purvanchali mlas, the Congress's Ram Pyare Ram, the CPI(M)'s Lagan Singh Deo and Javed Khan of the Trinamool Congress. This even-handedness has perhaps ensured that there is no palpable animosity towards Purvanchalis, who form Calcutta's unskilled and semi-skilled labour force, numbering half of the state's roughly 16 lakh migrants. Sociologist Ramanand Basu says, "Bengalis are not competing with them for such jobs, so they don't become objects of envy." It is the Marwaris, controlling the state's financial lifeline, who are the objects of derision.

So as Purvanchalis in different parts of the country learn to cope with varied situations, myth-making becomes a useful tool. Referring to the waves of indentured labour who left India's eastern shores in the 19th century and the recent unveiling of a larger-than-life bronze statue of that proud son of Bihar's Bhojpur district, Mauritius' first premier, Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam, in Patna recently, Krupa Shankar says with pride, "We have created nations outside India, Surinam, Mauritius. We are no longer kirayedaars (tenants), now we are hissedaars (stakeholders). We're a hardworking people, enriching the places we travel to and settle in."

By Smita Gupta and Anjali Puri in Delhi with inputs from Jaideep Mazumdar in Calcutta, Smruti Koppikar in Mumbai, Chander Suta Dogra in Chandigarh, Sugata Srinivasaraju in Bangalore