Unkind cuts

Illegal abattoirs point to failure of the state apparatus

The Bharatiya Janata Party’s (BJP’s) return to power in Bihar in alliance with Chief Minister Nitish Kumar’s Janata Dal (United) has seen the aggressive revival of the same “beef politics” that assailed Uttar Pradesh soon after the party’s overwhelming victory there. Within hours of his appointment, state Animal Husbandry Minister Pashupati Kumar Paras said there would be no new slaughterhouses in Bihar and that the ban on cow slaughter, enshrined in a 1955 state law, would be re-imposed. Almost on cue, cow vigilantes from the Bajrang Dal attacked three men on suspicion of transporting cow meat and an illegal abattoir was closed and three people arrested. 

Mr Paras, who is not a member of either House in the state legislature but is an office-holder in older brother Ram Vilas Paswan’s Lok Janshakti Party, a minor BJP ally, stated that only two abattoirs in Bihar were legal; the remaining 140-odd were illegal and would be closed. Though the meat processing industry in Bihar is not as significant as it is in UP, this move is likely to have an escalating impact on livelihoods, not just for those in the abattoir business but also for meat retailers and dairy farmers. Although liberal commentators see the move as the advancement of a narrow Hindutva agenda, Messrs Paras and Adityanath, chief minister of UP, indubitably have the sanctity of law on their side. 

While it is worth wondering whether wholesale closure of illegal abattoirs can be regarded as a constructive solution, yet their presence, in such large numbers, speaks volumes about the failure of the states’ regulatory and vigilance apparatus. It offers an example of the difficulties of doing business in India, especially for small and marginal entrepreneurs who crowd the meat processing supply chain. Several questions are worth asking. For one, how were so many illegal abattoirs — the business can scarcely be conducted clandestinely — allowed to flourish with impunity? Second, since it is clear that there is a robust demand for the services of these abattoirs, why did so many of them choose not to legalise themselves? Even if the obvious corruption embedded in this situation were ignored, the answer lies in the formidable array of approvals — from land-use norms and municipal licences to visits from multiple central approving agencies — all of which are beyond the wherewithal of the small abattoirs. And it is not a question of abattoirs alone — such examples speak poorly of the level of regulation and supervision by government agencies all over the country across sectors. 

Given the revenue-earning potential of the meat processing business, then, it would have made sense for the state to step in and provide reasonably priced abattoir services. Yet, in UP, where meat processing accounts for half of India’s meat exports and employs over 2.5 million people, the government runs only two of the 38 approved abattoirs — two others have been in the proposal stage for some years. Closing illegal abattoirs now, without providing farmers alternative exit options for cattle past their prime, may play well to a certain support base, but in India’s first and third most populous states, and among its poorest, cutting out a major source of jobs and nutrition can hardly help the cause of vikas.