On being ‘twice migrants’ in SA
A CENTURY after the banning of indentured labour… will we become “twice migrants”?
As a result of pressure from Indian nationalists and disruption of shipping during World War I, the British colonial government of India was forced to stop the practice of indenture – a new form of slavery (or what in the 21st century would be called human trafficking), on March 12, 1917. The centenary since the banning of indentured labour presents an opportunity for some critical, comparative reflections on the challenges facing this diasporic community.
In a recent editorial, the Guyana Chronicle argued that the indentured experience “has shaped the nation’s tapestry, not merely for the various peoples who came under the oppressive system, but also their diverse cultures and other contributions to the nation’s development”.
“Conditions of plantation life, labour and living, were far from acceptable. Being treated as beast of burdens, enticed to come to the so-called New World as contract/bound wage labourers, on the pretext that life would be better than the conditions to be left behind, assistance with return passage, and reward of land, fell short of standards comparable to human dignity and respect…
“Irrespective of outlook, none can deny indentured servitude was a debasement of human dignity and respect.”
As they attempted to adjust in an alien and hostile environment, Indians encountered conflict initially with the colonial rulers and subsequently with the indigenous majority.
Indentured Indian labourers and their descendants have constituted a vulnerable ethnic minority in their country of adoption, “sandwiched” between the dominant colonial ruling class and the indigenous majority, and subsequent generations were often regarded as aliens in the land of their birth.
Although generally perceived as a homogeneous ethnic group, the indentured labour community was stratified by class, religion and language. In spite of the distance from India, the descendants of indentured labourers have maintained their cultural identity, and for this they have been criticised for being “separatist” and “exclusivist”.
In countries where there has been conflict between Indians and locals, historian Hugh Tinker has questioned whether “the Asians create their own difficulties by their own way of life, and by remaining separate from the host society; or do their troubles arise mainly from excess chauvinism or racism in the country of their adoption?
“Do they offend because they are, visibly, both pariahs and exploiters in alien societies? Or are they scapegoats, singled out for victimisation because their adopted country (or its government) needs an alibi for poor performance in the national sphere?”
The nature of colonial social organisation was based on strict racial lines. This inevitably generated practices and outlooks that were antagonistic and opposed to any form of interracial interaction. As a result of residential segregation, the different groups were ignorant of each other’s social and cultural values, and racial prejudices and stereotypes were entrenched.
There is also a view that socially, the colonial segregated system suited the Indians, who were very conservative, and preferred to be left alone to follow and maintain their own religion and culture.
As a result of a fear of losing their cultural identity, Indians “tend to be over-religious, rigid, conservative, orthodox, close and restrictive”. To the colonial rulers, this was “proof of their ‘unassimilability’”, and locals viewed them as “being racist and discriminatory against the indigenous population”.
While the colonial authorities fostered a collective Indian identity from above, this was reinforced by impulses within indentured communities. As Kogila Moodley has argued, caught between an antagonistic colonial government and fear of the indigenous masses, Indians confirmed their cultural identity. “Religion, music, customs, traditions and distinctive food tastes formed part of a womb-like structure to act as a bulwark against a hostile environment.”
In the colonial and post-colonial eras, the indentured Indian diaspora has raised questions of belonging: “Were they partial citizens, or pariah citizens, permanent minorities, or resident aliens? Alternatively, were they simply excluded by race/culture from the possibilities of citizenship altogether? What political rights did their economic contribution confer?”
Power
In countries where “Indians have been numerically significant, their ethnic orientation has been tied to struggle for political power”, often accompanied by threats, violence and suppression.
In 1972, Fijian politician Sakesai Butadroka introduced a motion in parliament: “That this House agrees that the time has arrived when Indians or people of Indian origin in this country be repatriated back to India and that their travelling expenses back home and compensation for their properties in this country be met by the British.”
In the 1987 and 2000 elections in Fiji, Indian majority governments were ousted by coups, which was followed by the “use and abuse of ethnic identity appeals to maintain privilege and political power”.
Racism has been institutionalised under the banner of affirmative action for indigenous Fijians. Consequently, Indo-Fijians are disadvantaged in most areas of public life, including allocation of civil service positions and scholarships for tertiary studies.
As a result, those with skills and resources started a secondary migration, largely to New Zealand and Australia.
In South Africa, following the euphoric democratic elections in 1994, there have been several public attacks against the Indian community (which played a major role in the struggle against colonialism and apartheid) from people aligned to the ruling ANC, and a disturbing refrain is that this group (third and fourth generation South Africans) should return to India.
Since 2009 Indians opposed to the destruction of the century-old Warwick market in Durban, which had been an umbilical connection with the descendants of indentured labourers, were taunted with chants of “Hamba khaya! Hamba uye eBombay” (Go home! Go home to Mumbai!), from rent-a-mob groups aligned to the ruling party in front of senior ANC leaders, with impunity.
Most descendants of indentured labourers have no direct links with India, except as an abstract, spiritual motherland (which many pilgrims find disappointing, as the faith has been commodified, and religion betrays the poor and disadvantaged, and is manipulated for political power and privilege).
In Fiji, like in South Africa, there was concern about the “alien culture and ideology” of the VHP/RSS.
While diasporic indentured Indians have not severed ties with their ancestral homeland, connections with India remain nebulous.
“Those dragooned into the plantations of East and South Africa, the West and East Indies, were, after all, lower caste and class peasants and labourers, ‘ unworthy’ of the attention of (the Indian political elite)… Little surprise that in a status-conscious people, they rarely figured in the mental landscape.”
An interesting issue from which the motherland could benefit was an acknowledgement from the High Level Committee on the Indian Diaspora that in the indentured diaspora, “a form of Hinduism… was being practised by people who had rid themselves of traditions and customs like jaati and sati, gotra and sutra… and dowry”.
Indian ethnic identities were influenced by segregation, economic competition and the need to maintain culture in a hostile environment.
In the colonial, post-colonial and contemporary eras, Indians have primarily played the role of vulnerable middle-man minorities, often being portrayed as a scapegoat and villains in times of economic and political crisis, across the indentured diaspora.
Therefore, a century since the abolition of indenture, the tensions, conflicts and prejudices of that era still persist in the 21st century, with thirdand fourth-generation descendants of indentured labourers likely to be victims.
A critical question is whether they were likely to become “twice migrants”? From a keynote address, “A Century Since Banning – Some Critical Comparative Reflections on the Indentured Diaspora”, presented at the international conference, Becoming Coolies: Rethinking the Origins of the Indian Ocean Labour Diaspora, 1772-1920, organised by the University of Leeds in Delhi last month