How and why J&K has turned in to a dailywagers state/region in the union of India?
For decades, daily-wagerism quietly became a parallel employment policy in Jammu and Kashmir. It was never formally announced as a doctrine, yet it operated like one. Young men and women, desperate for dignity and income, followed MLAs, ministers, bureaucrats, and officers. They were “adjusted” in departments, PHE, PDD, Forest, Revenue, Rural Development, Education, Higher Education etc often without advertisement, without written contracts, without defined service conditions. A verbal assurance became an appointment letter. A political nod became a livelihood.
In the early years, when educational attainment was still limited, this informal arrangement did not appear structurally challenged. A large section of the youth had minimal formal qualifications. Departments required manpower. Political patronage filled the gap. Some among those attached were eventually regularised; many were not. Hope itself became currency. The promise of “one day” kept thousands working through winters, floods, unrest, and administrative reshuffles. But time changed the landscape. Colleges expanded. Universities produced graduates in unprecedented numbers. Degrees multiplied, BAs, BScs, MBBS, Bed, MSc, NET, SET, PhDs. A new generation emerged that carried certificates, mark sheets, and expectations shaped by competitive examinations and merit lists elsewhere in the country. The old system began to look fragile in front of this academic surge.
After a few years into these daily-wage arrangements, when the number of college and university pass-outs increased significantly, certain departments were forced to recalibrate. Health, for the recruitment of Medical Officers; School Education, for teachers; and particularly Higher Education, for lecturers, began issuing proper advertisements even for temporary or ad hoc positions. Eligibility criteria were specified. Applications were invited publicly. Merit lists were prepared following defined procedures. Interviews were conducted. Marks were allocated transparently. Only eligible and comparatively meritorious candidates were selected.
In these departments, qualifications could no longer be bypassed. A lecturer could not be “attached” without NET or required degrees. A medical officer could not be inducted without professional credentials. The nature of the job itself imposed boundaries. Merit had to be visible.
Yet this correction was partial, not systemic. Most other departments continued as before. The old culture survived, attachment through influence, informal engagement without advertisement, and years of uncertain service. In some offices, a worker served ten or fifteen years without formal status, waiting for a policy that might never arrive. In others, new daily wagers replaced old ones, creating silent resentment among those who had given their youth to the department.
It Is crucial to be honest about political responsibility. Daily-wagerism as a system is largely the legacy of the National Conference, Congress and the People’s Democratic Party, the three parties that governed Jammu and Kashmir for most of the post-1990 period. Under their watch, daily-rated hiring became normalized, expanded, and politically institutionalized. It was not merely administrative failure; it was a deliberate tolerance of informality as a tool of governance.
BJP cannot be credited with creating daily-wagerism in J&K. By the time it entered the region’s governance structure, in 2014, the disease was already chronic. What remains open to scrutiny is whether enough was done to dismantle this inherited structure of permanent temporariness.
“Jammu and Kashmir’s educated and globally-aware youth are outgrowing the region’s outdated “patronage” employment model. While some departments have successfully transitioned to merit-based hiring, the persistence of the “daily-wager” system threatens to stifle collective potential. Ultimately, employment must shift from a system of connections to one of competence to ensure individual dignity and regional progress.”
With this, emerged two parallel employment cultures within the same administrative structure. In one, degrees mattered. In the other, proximity mattered. In one, competition was open. In the other, opportunity was negotiated. The message to the youth became confusing. Should one invest in education or in networking? Should merit be sharpened, or relationships cultivated?
This duality did more than distort recruitment. It altered social psychology. Families began advising their children not merely to study hard but to “remain in touch” with someone influential. The idea of public employment shifted from a rule-based system to a negotiated settlement. Young graduates, watching less qualified individuals enter departments through informal routes, felt betrayed. At the same time, those who entered as daily wagers without advertisement also lived in insecurity, unsure whether tomorrow would recognise their years of service.
The tragedy lies not In individual stories but in institutional design. Daily-wagerism, instead of remaining a short-term stopgap, became a structural substitute for planned recruitment. Governments changed, policies were announced, committees were formed, regularisation schemes were floated and challenged. Yet the core contradiction persisted: the state demanded merit on paper but tolerated informality in practice.
This fragmentation has long-term consequences. When recruitment is uneven, institutional quality suffers. Departments where merit-based temporary recruitment became standard, particularly health, education and higher education, gradually aligned with national norms. Those that retained informal practices struggled with skill gaps, low morale, and perpetual legal disputes. Courtrooms became extensions of recruitment boards.
The youth of Jammu and Kashmir deserve clarity. They deserve a system where either all positions are transparently advertised or none are politically negotiated. They deserve to know that education is not ornamental but functional. They deserve timelines, service conditions, and predictable pathways.
Daily-wagerism was perhaps born out of necessity during turbulent decades. But necessity cannot remain policy forever. A generation that invested in degrees cannot be asked to compete with invisibility. And a generation that served departments loyally for years cannot be discarded as if their labour was charity.
The solution Is neither mass regularisation without criteria nor abrupt termination without justice. The solution lies in institutional honesty. Every engagement must pass through advertisement. Every temporary appointment must carry defined tenure. Every regularisation must follow transparent norms. Above all, the culture of informal attachment must end.
Jammu and Kashmir stands at a demographic turning point. Its youth are more educated than ever before. They are connected to national standards, aware of rights, and capable of excellence. To trap them in an outdated patronage framework is not merely administrative negligence; it is a loss of collective potential.
The departments that shifted to merit-based temporary recruitment proved that reform is possible. The question now is whether the rest will follow or whether daily-wagerism will continue as a shadow system, shaping lives in silence. Because employment is not just about income. It is about dignity. And dignity cannot depend on who one knows. It must depend on what one knows, and what one can do.
(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”)
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