Across several states in India, a workers’ movement is gathering momentum. This is not a movement born of luxury or ambition, nor a demand for power-sharing within the state. At its core lies a stark and basic plea: the right to survive with dignity—adequate food, and wages sufficient to afford it.
What began at Honda in Manesar has since spread to Faridabad and Palwal in Haryana, to Noida in Uttar Pradesh, and to parts of Rajasthan. Its expansion owes much to governmental indifference. As the saying goes, hunger drives people to desperate measures; after a long silence, workers have returned to the streets.
For days, the so-called “national media” kept its distance from the ongoing agitation in Manesar. The government, too, offered no serious response for nearly a week. It was social media platforms and independent YouTubers who amplified the workers’ voices, ensuring the issue did not remain confined to Manesar, Gurugram, or Haryana. Instead, it resonated with workers across the country, awakening a simmering anger.
Meanwhile, the Haryana government and members of the ruling party had, since March—after the budget—been claiming that workers’ wages had been increased. No official notification supported this claim. Under pressure, on April 8, the state cabinet approved a partial acceptance of workers’ demands. Unions had been asking for a living wage of ₹30,000. Earlier, at a tripartite meeting on December 29, 2025, in Panipat—attended by the administration, workers’ unions, and employers—there had been agreement on a minimum wage of ₹23,195. Yet the government neither fully accepted this consensus nor issued a notification. Workers had to return to the streets on April 9 to press for its implementation. Only then did the government issue a notification, declaring the revised wages effective from April 1, 2026.
Videos circulating on social media also show instances of police using force. Companies such as Modluma Export Private Limited and Richa Global Export Private Limited, both with multiple units in Gurugram, filed FIRs accusing workers of vandalism and arson. More than 60 people—including 20 women—have been arrested so far, with further detentions anticipated.
The “national media,” largely silent until then, became active from April 9 onward. The protests in Noida provided an opportunity to shift the narrative in favor of employers. While independent reporters and YouTubers had been highlighting workers’ lived realities, mainstream outlets began to foreground the police and administrative perspective. Workers asking why policies like lockdowns or demonetisation can be implemented overnight, while their grievances remain unresolved, were overshadowed by headlines portraying the protests as “planned violence.”
Workers describe grueling conditions: stagnant wages for three years, 12-hour shifts on their feet, minimal breaks, humiliation for minor delays, and impossible schedules that compress meals and rest into minutes. Women recount dismissive responses from management when raising concerns. In contrast, headlines focus on traffic disruptions in the NCR, lamenting the inconvenience caused to commuters rather than the conditions that led to the protests.
Workers question the logic of “losses” cited by employers who simultaneously purchase luxury cars worth crores, while laborers struggle even to afford bicycles. They speak of lulling their children to sleep to distract them from hunger. Meanwhile, television channels run stories alleging “foreign links” behind the protests.
Workers argue that if their wages cannot be increased, then prices of essential goods should be rolled back. The media, however, frames the protests as politically motivated, linked to upcoming elections. Workers ask why fuel prices can rise overnight, yet wage revisions take months. The government responds by forming committees.
Officials have been suspended for failing to report the strike in time, but little attention is paid to companies that deny minimum wages or to labor officers who fail in enforcement. There are no pointed questions about police action against journalists from outlets like Dainik Bhaskar or independent reporters covering the protests, nor about restrictions on video recording. Instead, headlines speculate about masked vandals and shadowy funding sources.
In Manesar, six activists associated with a workers’ organization were picked up from their homes in plain clothes late at night on April 12, without informing their families. Only after pressure from democratic groups were they produced in court. They now face serious charges, from attempted murder to arson, and are labeled “outsiders.” The media largely reproduces police statements without seeking the families’ accounts.
In another instance, four activists, including three women, were detained from the Noida Metro. Even the lawyer who went to secure their bail was reportedly detained by plainclothes police. Yet such actions rarely provoke scrutiny or questioning from mainstream outlets.
Once described as the fourth pillar of democracy, the media today appears increasingly aligned with corporate and political power. Reporters on the ground—workers themselves in many ways—face hostility and even police violence, while anchors in air-conditioned studios ignore their plight, choosing instead to echo official narratives. A media that has failed to implement the Majithia Wage Board recommendations within its own institutions finds little credibility in advocating for workers’ rights.
The working people of this country—laborers, farmers, students, women, and youth—must come together to raise their voices against exploitation. There is also an urgent need to strengthen alternative and independent media.
The lesson from Manesar to Noida is clear: when people take to the streets to demand their rights, the “national media” does not stand with them. It stands with power and capital. This movement has once again exposed a hard truth—that much of the media today serves not as a guardian of truth, but as a custodian of the ruling narrative.
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*Social worker and journalist
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