J&K is waiting for the labour-loving government that remembers and respects its labourers, public, private, permanent, dailywagers,for stronger civilization.
Dr. Ashraf Zainabi
There is a quiet truth we often ignore, no society becomes strong by policy papers alone. It becomes strong when the hands that build it are respected, protected, and treated with dignity. Roads, schools, colleges, hospitals, irrigation canals, power lines, none of these appear through speeches. They emerge through labour. Yet, the people behind that labour, especially daily wagers, continue to live on the margins of the very system they sustain.
In Jammu and Kashmir, this contradiction has now become too visible to overlook. On one side, there is a formal administrative structure with permanent employees who enjoy stability and recognition. On the other, there are thousands of daily wagers who have spent years, even decades, working in departments like PHE, PDD, municipal bodies, and public works, without any assurance of continuity. They are called temporary, but their work has been permanent. They are labelled casual, yet the system depends on them daily, they are called need based, yet their need continued from decades. This gap is not just administrative, it is deeply human.
A daily wager in J&K often lives in a cycle of uncertainty. Wages are delayed, sometimes for months. There is no guarantee of work tomorrow. There is no health cover if injury strikes at a worksite. There is no pension to look forward to after years of service. Despite this, they continue to show up, often in harsh weather and difficult terrain, keeping essential services running. It is this silent commitment that exposes a hard question, if the system relies on them, why does it hesitate to recognize them?
The answer often comes wrapped in administrative caution, budget constraints, procedural hurdles, or legal complexities. These concerns are not entirely baseless. Any large-scale regularization must be handled with care to avoid financial strain or institutional imbalance. But caution cannot become an excuse for indefinite delay. When a temporary arrangement stretches into decades, it ceases to be temporary. It becomes a form of institutional neglect.
A labour-loving government is not one that simply announces schemes or raises slogans about development. It is one that understands that labour is not expendable. It is foundational. Such a government does not treat workers as numbers in files but as citizens whose dignity is tied to their work.
In J&K, the need for such an approach is urgent. The region faces unique challenges, geographical, economic, and political. Infrastructure development is not easy here. Maintenance of public utilities is not routine. It requires a workforce that is not only skilled but also motivated. And motivation does not come from uncertainty; it comes from security and respect.
There is also a moral dimension that cannot be ignored. A society that benefits from someone’s labour carries an obligation towards that person’s well-being. This is not merely a modern idea; it is rooted in ethical traditions across cultures. In Islamic thought, for instance, the emphasis on timely and fair compensation for labour is clear. The idea is simple, a worker’s sweat should not dry before their wage is paid. Such principles remind us that dignity in labour is not just an economic issue; it is a moral one.
The present situation in J&K, however, reflects a disconnect between this principle and practice. Daily wagers continue to exist in a space where their contribution is acknowledged informally but not secured formally. Over time, this creates frustration, not just among workers but within the system itself.
“True governance in Jammu and Kashmir is not defined by policy papers, but by the tangible security of the hands that build it. For the region’s daily wagers, the transition from uncertainty to dignity—marked by permanent job security, guaranteed timely wages, and formal recognition—is the ultimate litmus test for leadership. By pivoting toward a “labor-centric” administration, the government can dissolve years of systemic frustration and replace it with a social contract rooted in mutual respect. When we prioritize the workforce’s stability, we don’t just fill bank accounts; we bridge the chasm between the state and its people, transforming a fragile peace into a resilient foundation of trust.”
Departments become dependent on a workforce that is not institutionally anchored. Workers become disillusioned with a system that does not fully accept them. This is not a sustainable arrangement.Regularization, therefore, must be seen not as a political favour but as an administrative necessity. But it must be done with clarity and fairness. A transparent framework is essential, one that takes into account years of service, nature of work, and departmental needs. Priority should go to those who have spent the longest time in service and are engaged in essential functions. At the same time, the process must be structured in phases to ensure financial viability.
However, focusing only on regularization would be incomplete. Even before permanent solutions are reached, immediate steps can be taken to improve the lives of daily wagers. Timely payment of wages should be non-negotiable. Basic safety measures at worksites must be ensured. Access to health insurance and some form of social security should be provided. These are not extraordinary demands; they are basic standards of a responsible administration.
There is also a larger cultural shift that needs attention. In many parts of society, labour, especially manual labour, is still viewed through a narrow lens. It is often undervalued, seen as less respectable than white-collar work. Governments have the power to change this narrative. When the state visibly supports and uplifts its workers, it sends a message that dignity does not depend on the nature of work but on the value it creates.
For J&K, this shift could have far-reaching effects. A workforce that feels respected is more likely to be committed. Public services improve when those delivering them feel secure. Development projects move faster when the people executing them are not burdened by uncertainty. In this sense, investing in labour dignity is not a cost; it is a long-term gain.
The question, then, is not whether J&K can afford to address the issue of daily wagers. The real question is whether it can afford not to. Ignoring the issue may seem easier in the short term, but it carries hidden costs, declining morale, inefficiency, and growing discontent. Addressing it, on the other hand, requires efforts ,resources and more so political will.
A government that truly seeks to strengthen society must begin at its base. It must look beyond files and figures and see the people who keep the system alive. It must move from temporary fixes to lasting solutions. Most importantly, it must recognize that labour is not a burden to be managed but a strength to be nurtured.
In the end, the measure of governance is not found in grand announcements but in everyday fairness. When a daily wagers feel secure in their work, when their wages arrive on time, when their years of service are acknowledged, that is when governance becomes meaningful. That is when a society begins to stand on firm ground.
Jammu and Kashmir does not lack potential. What it needs is a deeper alignment between its policies and its people. A labour-loving approach to governance can become that bridge. It can turn uncertainty into stability, frustration into trust, and effort into dignity. And perhaps that is where real strength begins.
(The author is a teacher and a researcher based in Gowhar Pora Chadoora of Central Kashmir’s Budgam district. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in this article are those of the author and aren’t necessarily in accord with the views of “Kashmir Horizon”)
