New Delhi: A member of the Marwari Manch in Assam’s Sivasagar district didn’t think it necessary to teach his son Marwari. The family speaks only Hindi and Assamese. Now, he’s questioning his unhyphenated Assamese identity.
A crushing blow was rendered to the standing of Assamese-Marwaris when members of the community allegedly molested a 17-year-old professional arm wrestler. The Marwari Manch issued a public apology in the presence of Assam nationalist groups and tribal welfare minister Ranoj Pegu. But that’s done little to iron out the tension between the communities, which has only been growing over the last two months.
“Recent attempts by certain divisive and parochial forces to create tension between our community, as well as other communities, and the Assamese people have deeply disturbed us,” reads a memorandum submitted by Purvottar Pradeshiya Marwari Yuva Manch to Assam Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma earlier this month, a copy of which has been accessed by ThePrint.
The memorandum also emphasises their position in society, while highlighting that their community is being “defamed,” and that other than the “hurt,” it’s also adversely affecting their children and is undermining “their right to live peacefully”.
“The entire community is being blamed for a single person’s mistake. We see ourselves as Assamese. My blood is here. We’ve never before been humiliated like this,” said a prominent businessman and manch member.
Like many in his community, he takes pride in how he and his ancestors absorbed the practices and customs of their adopted homeland.
The earliest Marwaris trickled into Assam around the mid-18th century. But their numbers increased significantly from the 19th century onwards, as they entered the state alongside East India Company traders. They’ve diligently earned their keep since then.
“Since the mid-late 19th century, The Marwari community has had a substantial socio-economic impact on Assam,” said sociologist Sanjay Barbora, an associate professor at the University of California—Santa Barbara. “With the monetary economy becoming ubiquitous during colonial rule, they performed a crucial function of providing cash in an environment where it was not readily available to others.”
Today, Marwaris in Assam boast of having assimilated completely –– they speak Assamese, are keen celebrators of regional festivals, boast of their contributions to the state’s socio-economic development, and have lived in the state for generations. They’re Assamese.
Now, they claim that their daily lives are steeped in microaggressions, discrimination, and a prevailing atmosphere of fear.
“Every small issue mounts into a battle,” said another resident of Sivasagar, who runs a grocery store. “If someone comes into my store, and they don’t like what I’m selling, they start heckling me. Then they record videos and share them on social media,” he added. He’s the fourth generation of his family to live in Assam.
The case reveals deeper problems
Sivasagar descended into chaos after the molestation case in August. There were massive protests by Assamese nationalist organisations, including the militant United Liberation Front of Asom (ULFA). It fanned the flames of the anti-outsider wave spreading across the state.
Members of the Marwari community were forced to temporarily shut their shops and close down their businesses. According to the Manch, nationalist organisations made their demands known: the sale of land to non-indigenous Assamese people should be disallowed, their businesses should have their names written in Assamese script, and 90 per cent of employees should be ‘indigenous’ Assamese.
The businessman member of the Marwari Manch called it a political conspiracy. He’s of the view that they are being edged out because they aren’t a lucrative vote-bank.
As of 2005, Assam reportedly has a population of six lakh Marwaris. Due to their relatively small numbers, they lack political weight, and aren’t necessarily an effective vote bank. The businessman recalled admitting to a senior Bharatiya Janata Party politician that their community can’t ensure victory in even a single seat.
“We can’t make anyone win, but perhaps we can make them lose. I have a factory with 250 workers, and they’ll all listen to me,” he told the leader.
Sanjay Barbora divided this upsurge against Marwaris into two layers. The first layer involves a “very localised incident” of harassment against a young athlete, while the second reveals deeper problems.
“The second dimension concerns the demand for social boycott calls against specific communities, including the Marwaris. This results from growing economic inequalities and political polarisation, especially in eastern Assam,” he said, stressing how it “underlines the importance of land for indigenous communities who increasingly feel that they are being pushed out and punished for not adding value to the land.”
At the meeting, where the now-infamous apology was made, Marwaris knelt down on a stage, in front of district administrators, the media, and protesters. They offered the protesters panatamul (betel nuts and betel leaves), as is Assamese tradition, and accepted their demands.
“But the apology wasn’t reciprocal. They didn’t kneel down in return [which is the custom]. It was humiliating,” said the manch member and businessman.
Days later, by which time normality was supposed to have been restored, another shopkeeper stood silently and watched as a Marwari man was forced to kneel and apologise once again on the street by an Assamese man. “Do you people never learn? Don’t you feel ashamed?” the Marwari man was told by the Assamese stranger. There was allegedly no provocation.
“I felt scared from my very core, and so I didn’t say anything,” the shopkeeper said. “We’re a minority community. How much can we say anyway? I walk with my head down.”
In another incident in Sivasagar, which was shared on Youtube, a shopkeeper, purportedly of Bengali origin, marched into the store of a Marwari-Assamese, informed him that he was from Lachit Borphukan’s army, and that the Marwari-Assamese man needed to evacuate his store within the next 48 hours.
In the clip, the shopkeeper could be seen protesting.
“I’ve been running this shop since 1997. I was born in Assam. I’ve been here my entire life. How is it that suddenly I’m no longer Assamese?” he said in the clip according to the Marwari businessman who spoke to ThePrint.
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A model-minority
Members of the Marwari community allege that a number of protesters and harassers are ‘Miya Muslims’ and of Bengali origin. Their status, however, is in jeopardy, after Assam Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma said he won’t allow the state to be taken over by them.
“The sangathans are filled with Bengalis and Miya Muslims. It’s all of their supporters,” said the shopkeeper who witnessed the Assamese man being harassed. “We are being used.”
Like him, several Marwari families claim they’re being used as scapegoats by ‘nationalist’ organisations as a deflection tactic. It also raises questions as to whether an anti-outsider sentiment is gaining cadence in Assam.
The Assam movement originated in the late 1970s to ‘expel’ outsiders, particularly illegal Bangladeshi migrants, from the state. It culminated in the signing of the Assam Accord in 1985, as per which 1966 became the cut-off year –– all migrants who had settled in the state before 1 January 1966 were accepted. According to Barbora, these issues from the ’70s, ’80s and ’90s are “resurfacing in the new political context with new complexities.”
That said, he isn’t quite convinced of the anti-outsider argument.
“It would not be easy to be anti-outsider in a place like Assam, where several religious and language-speaking groups live close to each other,” said Barbora.
However, there have been times when political mobilisation among communities has followed narrow lines to exclude others, Barbora stressed. “Ironically, such efforts find support among mainstream political parties, many of whom participate in elections.”
For the Marwaris, this current deviation from the status quo is a far cry from what they ‘deserve’. They see themselves as a model-minority of sorts, who’ve selflessly devoted themselves in service of Assam.
“We organise the most blood donation drives. All the ambulances and vans that carry dead bodies belong to Marwaris. And we don’t even makeup five per cent of the population,” said the member of the Marwari Manch, who sees this as a political conspiracy.
Marwari contributions exist in every sphere, he said in continuation. The first play on the life of Assamese commander Lachit Borphukan, known for defeating the Mughals and his recent government-induced cultural resurgence, was performed by the Marwaris, he claimed. While the recent furore has been restricted to Sivasagar, there’s a Marwari presence in all corners of the state.
A hundred kilometres from Sivasagar, in Golaghat, Marwaris are known for multiple contributions –– they participated in the freedom struggle, opened schools, and played a key role in the town’s industrialisation. A research paper published in the Journal of Namibian Studies notes that they went beyond economic endeavours to make significant “socio-cultural contributions towards the formation of Assamese society.”
“There is a famous quote –jahan na pahunchi rail gaadi, wahan pahunche Marwari [Marwaris reach where even trains cannot],” the paper also reads.
Marwari loyalties have always been clear –– they’re on the side of Assam’s prosperity. And, according to the Morcha member, up until last month, the BJP’s. Now, they’re returning to their cultural roots.
(Edited by Zoya Bhatti)