• Sanjay Gaba

The First of May marks a day of collective remembrance for the ‘workers’ of the world. It is not merely a celebration, but a legacy of struggle. It is a date that reminds us that workers did not obtain their rights by merely pleading for them, but by fighting for them. From the reduction of working hours to the establishment of minimum wages, safety standards, union rights, leave entitlements, social dignity, and humane treatment—behind every single right lies a history of prolonged struggle, repression, imprisonment, police brutality, and sacrifice. Therefore, Labor Day is not a mere formality, but a day to hold the system accountable.

This is the very day that asks us: Does the labourer who built the cities possess a dignified home to live in? Is the kitchen of the one who kept the factories running secure? Does the one who built the nation’s economy have a life of their own that stands firm? And the greatest question of all—is the labourer in this country being regarded as a human being, or merely as a means of production?

The significance of the world’s first workers’ revolution lies in the fact that it upheld human dignity in the face of the arrogance of capital and production. During the industrial era, labourers were made to work for 12 to 14 hours a day. They were tethered to machines, yet severed from their rights. It was then that labour movements across the globe proclaimed that a worker is not merely a cog in the machine; he possesses the right to life, the right to a family, the right to rest, the right to health, and, above all, the right to dignity. It was this very consciousness that gave birth to modern labour politics. Therefore, the First of May is not merely a historical event; it also serves as a moral litmus test for contemporary politics.

Today, the outcome of this test in India does not appear very satisfactory. The country’s workforce is more insecure, fragmented, and under pressure than ever before. A problem even greater than the sheer number of jobs is the quality of employment. Even when work is available, it is neither permanent, nor secure, nor adequate. Millions of young people, despite being educated, are wandering in search of employment. Even those who do find work are often trapped in contractual arrangements, outsourcing, temporary appointments, daily-wage labour, app-based gigs, or jobs devoid of social security. This is not merely a crisis of unemployment, but a crisis of undignified employment.

Today, the greatest tragedy facing a labourer is that, despite working, he is unable to live with dignity. If a labourer earns ten thousand rupees a month, it may sound—on the surface—as though he has some form of income. However, the reality is far harsher. How is one supposed to manage rent, groceries, children’s education, electricity, medicines, commuting, clothing, mobile phone expenses, care for the elderly, and unforeseen illnesses—all within a mere ten thousand rupees? And when inflation is constantly on the rise, this wage ceases to be a salary; instead, it becomes a humiliating compromise.

Today, the heaviest blow to a labourer’s pocket comes from the rising cost of daily necessities. The burden of pulses, flour, cooking oil, milk, vegetables, rent, and medicines is substantial in itself; added to this is the separate crisis of gas and energy costs. In many small industries and low-income households, fuel costs have surged to such an extent that a significant portion—often the majority—of a labourer’s entire earnings is consumed by them alone. In numerous places, the situation has become such that a labourer’s entire monthly income barely suffices to cover household cooking fuel, rent, and essential medicines. The remainder of their life is sustained through borrowing, making cutbacks, and constantly deferring expenses. This is not merely a tale of economic hardship; it is a story of the devaluation of labour itself.

Today, to grasp this reality, statistics alone are not required; events on the ground suffice. The labour movements that recently erupted in the industrial belts of Noida, Manesar, Gurugram, Faridabad, and Palwal serve as vivid proof of the extent to which workers’ discontent has escalated.

Thousands of workers took to the streets, demanding an increase in the minimum wage, fixed working hours, the abolition of the contract labour system, and their basic rights. This was not a sudden, spontaneous outburst, but rather the explosion of long-suppressed anger—anger that had accumulated due to inflation, precarious employment, and persistent neglect. These movements raised another grave question:

When a worker speaks up for their rights, do they encounter dialogue, or repression?

The establishment of a specialized police mechanism—such as the ‘DCP Industry’—in Noida is not merely an administrative decision. It reflects a mindset in which the struggles of workers are viewed not as a matter of social justice, but rather as a law-and-order problem.

When a worker demands wages and dignity, and the response involves strengthening the police apparatus, it becomes abundantly clear where the system’s allegiances lie. This situation stands in stark contrast to the historical consciousness that gave birth to May 01.

In this very era, global geopolitical tensions are further exacerbating the plight of the working class. The conflict involving Iran, the United States, and Israel—along with the war-like conditions prevailing in West Asia—is typically viewed as a matter of foreign policy; however, its most immediate and brutal impact falls upon labourers and the lower-middle class. As the threat of war escalates, oil and gas prices soar, maritime transport is disrupted, import-export costs rise, supply chains fracture, and industrial operating expenses surge. How, then, do industries recoup these increased costs? Not from their machinery, but from their workers.

A worker is entitled not to salutes, but to rights. He seeks not sympathy, but security. He seeks not speeches, but justice. He seeks not assurances, but a life. And ultimately, this is the most significant truth: The nation that cannot save its workers cannot save its own future either. The true strength of a nation lies not in capital, but in labour.

And without the protection of labour, democracy, development, and civilization—all three remain incomplete.

The political will and policy clarity required to fulfil this responsibility—at the level at which it is needed—can only be demonstrated by a force that views labour not as a burden, but as the very foundation of the nation. This is precisely why the Congress Party is capable of undertaking this task—because the concepts of social justice, workers’ rights, and a welfare state have always been intrinsic to its political ethos. It is the Congress that can provide the direction wherein a minimum living wage is ensured, contract and unorganized workers are granted a legal right to social security, labour laws are strictly enforced, and workers receive not oppression, but respect and protection. This is the path that empowers the worker and steers the nation toward sustainable development.

(The author serves as the National Vice Chairman of the KKC and National President of the All-India Gig and Platform Workers Union.)