Eviction is temporary fix; Assamese youth filling labour gaps is permanent one

Sentinel Viewpoint

For over four decades, the Assamese society has pursued what increasingly looks like a mirage—an Assam free of illegal Bangladeshi settlers and secure in its cultural identity. This aspiration has dominated political movements, influenced elections, and shaped governments. Yet, despite years of agitation and repeated administrative actions, demographic anxiety among indigenous communities has only deepened. The recent eviction drives have once again brought this reality into sharp focus.

Bulldozers clearing settlements on government land and reserved forests are a strong administrative response and demonstrate the political will of Chief Minister Dr. Himanta Biswa Sarma, but they have also revealed the magnitude of the problem. Even Chief Minister Sarma has warned that it will take at least a decade to clear all encroachments in the state—a timeline that itself highlights how deeply entrenched these settlements have become.

Evictions are only a temporary fix if the Assamese people fail to look within and realise that the permanent solution lies with them: filling the labour gaps. Even when eviction succeeds, the same families or others often return because the economic demand for their labour remains unaddressed.

Over the years, educated Assamese youth have largely turned away from manual work, farm labour, construction jobs, plumbing, electrical wiring, and even small-scale marketing of agricultural produce. Instead, many chase low-paying desk jobs or fixed-hour retail and security roles, often after spending family savings on coaching classes to crack government or corporate recruitment exams.

As Assam’s economy continues to grow, with the central and state governments undertaking mega infrastructure projects—highways, railways, roads, bridges, educational institutions, hospitals, stadiums, housing schemes, industries, and expansion of Guwahati and various towns—the demand for labourers is rising rapidly. Contractors and investors, under immense pressure to complete projects on time, cannot wait for local workers who see such jobs as inferior work. They are left with no other option than to mobilise labourers from outside the villages and towns where projects are underway—workers who are willing to work long hours for relatively low wages. Do Assamese people ever wonder who fills this gap? If they did, they would not have left this gap open for immigrant settlers from sar areas and other immigrant-dominated belts who are looking for income opportunities to fill. For these immigrant settlers, earning money matters more than the nature of the work. They arrive in temporary camps, take up hard physical labour, and gradually bring in more workers as demand grows. Over time, these temporary camps evolve into permanent settlements with families.

As incomes rise, some immigrant settlers also start buying land—often from Assamese families who, overwhelmed by changing neighbourhoods or seeking better prospects elsewhere, sell at throwaway prices. This is how demographic change creeps in: silently, incrementally. By the time indigenous communities realise it, they find themselves becoming minorities in their own ancestral land.

Indigenous communities are often so laidback that they lack the civic or nationalistic urge to report encroachments on government land, village grazing grounds, pastures, or forests by these immigrant labourers. A nexus of corrupt officials and employees also enables this unauthorised occupation to continue unhindered.

Eviction drives can help reclaim land but cannot address the economic vacuum that fuels migration and settlement. As long as labour-intensive work is left unclaimed by locals, immigrant settlers will fill the gap. Investors cannot afford to delay projects, and the state must continue launching new ones to accelerate development. The market will always find labour, and people willing to work will always move to where work is available.

If indigenous communities truly want to protect their demographic position, they must start with themselves. This means shedding job snobbery and taking pride in every form of work that keeps society functioning. Whether it is preparing paddy fields, harvesting crops, building houses, plumbing, wiring, loading, unloading of supplies from trucks in a market, or marketing produce, all of it must be embraced by Assamese youth, who must realise that there is no shame in hard labour. If we keep singing music legend Bhupen Hazarika’s evergreen line “Dignity of labour” in one of his popular numbers—Autorickshaw Salou Ami Duyu Bhai—without grasping the deeper social message that he sought to convey, we only expose our hollowness.

Ironically, many Assamese youths leave the state for odd jobs, often in other parts of India, while refusing similar work at home. They stand in queues for low-wage private employment after spending thousands on competitive exam coaching but decline work that could have provided a decent livelihood without leaving their own towns or villages.

If Assamese youth continue to ignore local work, settlers will continue to fill the gap, earn, invest, and eventually buy land. Demographic security comes from economic self-reliance, and it has been historically established that communities controlling their own economic ecosystem are far less vulnerable to demographic shifts because they leave fewer gaps for outsiders to fill.

For Assam, this means fostering local entrepreneurship, encouraging youth to take up trades, and building pride around skilled and semi-skilled labour. A cultural shift is needed—one that values work over status and recognises that dignity comes from productivity, not just job titles.

The example is in front of us every day: small street vendors, often from outside Assam, making steady incomes selling snacks and daily items. Many of them earn more than degree holders doing routine desk jobs. Yet, local youth hesitate to run similar businesses, often because of social perception. Changing that perception is as crucial as any border fence or eviction order.

Assam’s struggle with illegal immigration and demographic change is real and urgent. But eviction drives and administrative measures alone cannot secure the future of indigenous communities. The deeper battle is internal—in our attitudes toward work, livelihood, and economic self-reliance.

Assamese youth, by embracing every work opportunity in their own towns and villages, can close the labour vacuum that immigrant settlers exploit. If Assamese youth continue to chase only white-collar dreams and leave the labour gaps open, it will only incentivise immigrant settlers to fill them, and demographic change will only worsen—regardless of how many evictions the state undertakes.

Also Read: Assam: Day 4 of Rengma Forest eviction drive sees major headway

Also Watch: