Over 30 million Indians died due to recurring famines during the 19th century under British rule. During these famines, average rural Indians found it nearly impossible to procure food grains. In their struggle for survival, like any human being at any time in any civilisation, they were willing to migrate to new locations where they could secure two square meals a day and provide for their families. At this time, a section of officials of the English East India Company (EIC) in India, along with a segment of the British politicians in England, exploited these vulnerable, desperate and trusting individuals. They lured them into migrating to various plantation colonies across the globe with the promise of a better future. This deception was aimed to replenish their lost labour force after slavery had been outlawed within the British Empire. The phenomenon became known as ‘decoy slavery’, or indentured labour, according to the Harvard Law Review in its March 2021 issue (Vol. 134, No. 5).

Slavery was abolished throughout the British Empire by an Act of Parliament in 1833, effective from August 1, 1834, except in India. It took nearly an entire decade before the British Indian Law Commission could secure authorization for its implementation in the Indian subcontinent in 1843. While researching for my book, Harry Hobbs of Kolkata and Other Forgotten Lives (July 2024/Niyogi Books), I discovered that one of the main reasons for this delay was the obstruction of the anti-slavery law by Henry Thoby (H.T.) Prinsep, the elder brother of the famous Indologist James Prinsep, known for his work on deciphering the Kharosthi and Ashoka Brahmi scripts.

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H.T. Prinsep was a key member of the then Indian Law Commission and wielded significant influence within the EIC due to his family connections, which allowed him to delay the implementation of the anti-slavery law in India by a decade. But why is this topic relevant now?

The West Bengal State Archives is celebrating ‘Archives Week’ in Kolkata presently by holding a very interesting exhibition (18th till 24th February) at its Shakespeare Sarani office on the theme of ‘migration of indentured labour’. Simonti Sen, Director of the State Archives, articulated in the introductory booklet of the exhibition that, “In recent years the phenomenon of ‘migration’ has captured the attention of governments and people the world over. Although ‘indentured’ labour of the colonial times no longer exists, the governments are vexed with problems of present-day labour migration that are evidently reminiscent of the former”. She went on further to elucidate that even at present the progenies and other descendants of these ‘indentured labourers’ visit the archives seeking and searching for information about their unfortunate forebears who had been taken away long ago.

In India, discussions about indentured migration were largely avoided until very recently. I was delighted to see that the exhibition of the West Bengal State Archives began with panels displaying the correspondence and memos written by Henry Thoby (H.T.) Prinsep. Most Indian historians have either refrained from or overlooked discussing Prinsep’s views on slavery, with the exception of D.R. Banaji, the author of ‘Slavery in British India’ (1933).

As the British Empire was about to outlaw slavery, the supply of free labour for the plantations in her colonies began to diminish. In response, a new system akin to slavery emerged in the Indian subcontinent, cleverly circumventing the new anti-slavery laws. Like its predecessor, this new system exploited the economic deprivation found in Indian villages, allowing British and French plantation owners to continue their labour exploitation in their colonies.

This system copied the model used by the South American planters and was known as ‘indentured’ or ‘bonded’ servitude. The impoverished indentured labourers from India were referred to as Girmitiyas, a term derived from the word ‘agreement.’ The Girmitiyas, or Girmits, were essentially ‘agreement holders.’ According to the agreements or bonds signed by these labourers, they would work for a fixed period—typically five years—in a foreign land, under very harsh conditions and for minimal pay.

H.T. Prinsep consistently opposed the importation of foreign slaves to India but was unwilling to legislate against the export of Indian labourers to other colonies. Testimonials from former Girmitiyas reveal the extent of their exploitation using this loophole created by Prinsep. Lured by labour brokers and companies, these workers were often enticed by false promises. Many were not compensated for their labour, and nearly all experienced inhumane conditions and severe mistreatment.

Ultimately, this practice resulted in millions of Indians being shipped out to work in various European colonies, primarily in the Caribbean, Southeast and East Africa, British Guiana, Fiji, Mauritius, and Suriname.

Dola Mitra, an editor and a political analyst, wrote in her, The Bengal Book (Rupa/ 2021), “Deonauth’s family too arrived in British Guyana as plantation workers and settled. ‘It was sometime in 1838 that they boarded a ship,’ he says. ‘Though there are not many records of those times, what we do know is from what has passed down to us through the generations by word of mouth.’ Deonauth’s ancestors were from a remote village in Bengal, who signed up or were compelled to sign up for the indentured system, possibly due to economic hardships. The indenture system targeted the needy masses, the memories of whose displacement could and did get lost in the oblivion of time. Their numbers remained virtually unaccounted for except as cold impersonal statistics. Close to two million (by some accounts three million or even more) people had been dislocated by the Indian indenture system. The mere rattling off of these numbers doesn’t take into account the fact that each and every one of the figures which make up that total, was that of an individual who had dreams and aspirations to return home one day. To their parents, spouses, children and siblings”.

This new form of slavery in British India lasted till the end of the 1920s. The stories of Indian Girmitiyas are so widespread and well-known that even before you finish entering the relevant search terms into Internet search engines, an abundance of references pop up on your screen.

The testimonies of Zuhoorun and other indentured migrants can be found in the Letter From ‘Secretary to Government of India to Committee on Exportation of Hill Coolies: Report of Committee and Evidence’ – Parliamentary Papers (House of Commons) 1841, Vol 16, No. 45. In fact, the exhibition too spoke about Zuhoorun’s story.

In her testimony, Zuhoorun says she was persuaded by a labour recruiter to travel to Mauritius and work as a servant.  After her departure from Kolkata, however, she realised she had been deceived: “I got no clothes given to me, nor blankets, nor brass pots.” Nor did she receive the quality of wages, or the six-month wage advance that the recruiter had promised.

In Mauritius, Zuhoorun spoke of the injustice meted out to fellow labourers—a story of overworked men subjected to ill-treatment and corporal punishment.  Labourers were often confined within plantations and denied wages if they refused to work.  Zuhoorun felt stuck in a foreign land with no means of returning to her homeland, urging “everyone would leave if there was a land journey; not one would advise any of their friends to go there”.

From Zuhoorun’s testimony, we get an insight into the experience of indentured migrants in Mauritius.  While men tended to cultivate and process sugar, women often worked in the households of plantation owners.  Zuhoorun testified to “making salt, climbing tamarind trees to pick them, sweeping the house, and cutting grass for cattle”. She even learnt French to communicate with her French ‘master’.

Her testimony also highlights instances of sexual harassment and the expectation of sexual favours—a common occurrence in plantations.  Zuhoorun complained that her plantation owner Dr Boileau, asked her to be his mistress.  She refused, saying, “I have degraded myself by going on board the ship; I would not further degrade myself.”  Her attempts to complain to the police were met with a three-month stint in a house of correction. On her return to Boileau’s house, she was beaten and harassed further.  Eventually, she decided to return to India before the end of her five-year contract, even if it meant not receiving any wages for her two and a half years of service.

A bitter Zuhoorun says in her testimony, “I would not return to Mauritius on any account; it is a country of slaves […] I would rather beg my bread here.”  Overseas migration had also damaged her social position.  She implored, “Even my mother will not drink water from my hand or eat with me,” a sign of social ostracization tied to a taboo on crossing the ocean known as -Kala Pani.

The West Bengal State Archives exhibition is timely and well executed. I just thought of adding the voice to those historic documents displayed.

[The writer is an author and a columnist. Opinions expressed are his personal.]