Why the continued neglect of migrant workers will derail India’s growth story
Summary
Every time crisis strikes—be it a pandemic, a natural disaster, or, like now, cross-border conflict—there's one group that quietly packs up and disappears from the headlines: India’s migrant workers.
When the firing began across the Line of Control (LoC), official reports focused on civilian casualties—about 20 dead and hundreds displaced. But another quieter exodus had already begun: India’s migrant workers, the invisible workforce powering factories, fields, and construction sites across the country, were on the move again.
In the days following India’s military retaliation for a terror attack on tourists in Kashmir, thousands of migrant workers began fleeing not just Jammu and Kashmir but also parts of Gujarat and Punjab.
The violence this time may not be nationwide, but for those living on society’s economic edge, the impact has been swift and devastating.
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According to the Jammu Chamber of Commerce and Industry, 30–40% of the estimated 2 lakh migrant workers employed in industrial units across Jammu have left. The hospitality and construction sectors—heavily reliant on migrant labour—are reporting similar numbers. Most industrial units in the Kashmir valley have simply shut down.
In Gujarat, about 75,000 of the estimated 3 lakh migrant workers, especially in the textile industry, have returned to their home states. Punjab’s agriculture and textile units are also feeling the strain.
If all this sounds like déjà vu, it is.
Echoes of 2020
This isn’t the first time India’s migrant workforce has had to flee in the face of crisis. The pandemic-triggered lockdowns of 2020 and 2021 forced over 11 million workers to leave cities in the largest mass migration since partition. With no jobs, no savings, and no support, they walked hundreds—sometimes thousands—of kilometres to return home. Many never made it.
What’s becoming clear now is that even smaller, localised disruptions—like war, natural disasters, or political unrest—are enough to push migrant workers over the edge. They are India’s economic shock absorbers, but that role has come at a devastating personal cost.
There are no accurate estimates of the number of migrant workers in India, but research suggests numbers closer to 100 million. An overwhelming majority of migrant workers fall in the informal sector, with no written wage contract, no agreed wage, no leave, no health cover or insurance, no right to unionise, and no job security.
This is true even for large, organised sector manufacturers, who tend to use agents and labour supply agents to keep an arms-length distance from these workers to avoid legal repercussions or demands for being made permanent employees.
Also read: Big city pull: Easing migration will be tough, say experts
Welfare schemes that don’t reach
Many statutory provisions meant to protect workers—like minimum wage, retirement benefits under EPFO, or health insurance through ESIC—often bypass migrant workers. Because they are constantly on the move, they frequently slip through the cracks of schemes that were supposedly created for their welfare.
Take the One Nation One Ration Card Scheme, launched to ensure portability of ration benefits by linking them to Aadhaar. It promised migrant workers the same food entitlements at their workplace as in their home states. But an April 2024 paper by IIM-Ahmedabad professors Chinmay Tumbe and Rahul Kumar Jha found that, despite full nationwide implementation by 2022, actual usage by migrants remained negligible. Of 16.8 crore public distribution system (PDS) transactions in a sample month, less than 5 lakh were inter-state. In fact, 90% of all transactions were regular, and 99% of the rest were within the same state.
Then there’s the Construction Workers Welfare Fund, financed by a 1% cess on every construction project. The money is earmarked for health, insurance, and housing support for workers—most of whom are migrants. Yet, more than half the funds collected across states remain unspent.
The burden doesn’t lie with governments alone. Industry, regardless of size, has done little to provide even the basics: housing, food, transport, or medical aid. With few exceptions, migrant workers are expected to show up, work, and vanish—until a crisis reminds everyone just how critical they are.
Government infrastructure often focuses on luring investors—industrial parks, roads, and subsidies—but rarely includes facilities for the workers who will operate those factories. Schemes like Pradhan Mantri Awas Yojana (PMAY) don’t help because migrants don’t want to buy homes where they work—they need rental housing, hostels for single women, and community kitchens that offer safety and dignity.
Governments at the state and city levels invest in industrial estates and build supporting infrastructure to attract investors and set up factories. But the workers who power these factories are often left to fend for themselves.
Housing schemes like the PMAY don’t solve the problem—migrant workers typically can’t afford, or even consider, purchasing homes in their place of work, subsidised or not.
Also read: Skills mismatch, migration to metros hurting recruitments in small cities
What’s needed instead is state- or city-run rental housing tailored for migrants. Affordable dormitories, hostels for single women, and basic mess facilities could drastically improve their living conditions—and make India’s industrial growth more inclusive.
What’s clear is this: India needs urgent, coordinated, and compassionate action. Governments must go beyond infrastructure and policy announcements to ensure real delivery on the ground. Industry must treat migrant workers as essential stakeholders, not disposable labour. And civil society—so quick to benefit from their work—must step up in their times of need. Because when crises hit, it’s the migrant worker who walks first, suffers most, and is remembered last.
