On 9th October 2024, at around 23:30, Ratan Tata — the former chairperson of the Tata Group — breathed his last. Just as the news spread, the world stirred to a striking dichotomy: a bracket of society remembered Tata as an altruistic philanthropist while the other side was quick to expose him as an exploitative capitalist. Tributes poured in from everywhere, praising him for his charitable endeavours, all validated by his contributions in the fields of healthcare, education and industrial development. Tata Medical Centre, Tata Institute Of Social Sciences, Tata Education and Development Trust, and Tata Memorial Centre were put forth as important souvenirs of his altruistic legacy.
Those on the other end, however, invited public attention to the various patterns of oppression which run parallel to Tata’s popularly idealised corporate benevolence. Such claims produce interesting insights when contextualised within the historical arc and current dynamics of the Tata Group of Industries credited for India’s industrialisation. However, it is a lesser-known fact that the wealth which funded the corporation’s ‘pioneering ventures’ was subsidised by British imperialism and colonial exploitation.
Historically, capitalism and colonialism have operated concurrently, each reinforcing the other. As European powers pushed the confines of their empires, economic frameworks which prioritised maximum resource extraction from the colonised ‘other’ were created. This dynamic, with time, has assumed the character of modern capitalist practices. Tatas’ ascend to acclaim expounds this argument. Jamsetji Tata’s father was one of the local agents of the East India Company, who enabled the colonial Opium trade which involved exporting Indian-grown opium to China. This practice profited from the enforced addiction of Chinese populaces and coercion of Indian farmers to grow the drug. Extracting leverage from such endeavours, Jamsetji set up Empress Mill. It was named so to commemorate Queen Victoria’s proclamation as the Empress Of India. Years later, the British government enabled Tata’s acquisition of the tribal village of Sakchi to bolster resource extraction and expand production. Tata’s colonial reverence, in exchange, was showcased by his contributions to the British military. Tata Steel laid the tracks for British expansionism whilst Tata textile mills clothed the British army as it plundered through Ethiopia.
Tatas’ takeover of Sakchi is emblematic of the confluence of development and exploitation, pointing to a fundamental contradiction within capitalism: it thrives on the exploitation of local masses while posing as a catalyst of progress. As capitalism’s idea of development encroached upon the indigenous tribes of Sakchi (who rarely had documented rights to their land), they were forcibly evicted. Jamsetji reportedly also mowed down Kusumganj trees — a source of tribal livelihood — to generate a desperate labour force for his industries. Employment resulting from exploitation, however, does not ensure personal or financial security. Over the years, reports have suggested that an insatiable appetite for profit has often come at the expense of the workers’ welfare and rights in Tata industries. The company also has had an extensive history of anti-labour laws, union busting and crackdown on strikes. Tatas’ tactics highlight corporate indifference which thrives on diminishing workers’ right to an equitable treatment. A prominent Tata trade unionist has been previously murdered, raising concerns about the workers’ safety.
The reciprocal relationship between the Tatas and the colonial government represents a microcosm of a modern societal framework which neglects the rights and needs of the very people it feeds off of. Incessant normalisation of this order further materialises as dehumanisation of the working class. Tatas’ complicity in enabling the systematic oppression of vulnerable populaces by equipping their oppressors addresses this claim. Land Rover Defender, the most operational patrol vehicle in the Israeli military, is owned by Tata Motors Ltd. Tata Advanced Systems also produces electronic devices like computers and receivers for Israel’s largest publicly traded arms producer: Elbit Systems. This relationship has invited more attention and condemnation since about 43,000 Palestinians have been killed indiscriminately by Israeli forces in the ongoing genocide, thus far.
When Ratan Tata took charge of the Tata Group, he inherited an exploitative legacy and corporatocracy. He pursued actions that led to the further desecration of tribal land. Countless farmers in Singur were forced into giving up their agricultural land for a car (Tata Nano) manufacturing plant in 2006 which ignited widespread protests. In response, the state deployed armed police forces to quell local masses and protect the industrial site. It is ironic that the ‘people’s car’ displaced indigenous masses long before even being manufactured.
This pattern of capitalistic aggression can be traced environmentally as well. In Jugsalai town, for example, boiler ash dumping from Tata Steel leads to soil pollution and groundwater poisoning. Over the course of time, ecologically exquisite places like Sidhamanta Reserve Forests, and Gulf of Kutch National Park have been compromised due to the industrial ambitions of Tatas.
These instances collectively highlight the oppressive reality of Tata Industries, often overshadowed by an elusive generous image. Tata’s narrative serves as an exemplary masterclass in enabling uncontested corporate power while managing perception and public relations strategy. It is important to recognise that this dichotomy in people’s perception of Ratan Tata is not merely a matter of public opinion. It encompasses a wider discourse about the relationship between ethics and capitalism. Fundamentally, ethics and capitalism can not coexist. Capitalism thrives on the accumulation of capital and resource expansion which funnels the wealth into the hands of a privileged few. A capitalistic society profits at the expense of labour and the environment. Therefore, attributing adjectives like ‘ethical’ to a capitalist is intrinsically antithetical.
At such junctures, capitalism, in a rather alarming turn, reshapes altruism to tailor it into forms which serve its ends. Philanthropy is, thus, reduced to a tool which mitigates the social fallout of vile business practices while reinforcing the existing power dynamics which are systematically oppressive. In a world defined by economic disparity, harmonising ethical imperatives with economic ambitions is a far-fetched dream. However, over the years, it has become a readily gobbled dish, served with a side of industrial development by these giant corporations. In Tatas’ case, it is also augmented by the idea of nationalism which allows it to evoke a sense of pride and loyalty among consumers against foreign goods and influence.
Thus, besides countless other calamities, capitalism has also brought about the substitution of justice with charity, funded by the very local masses that it exploits. It has replaced the ideal of accountability with hollow goodwill as an afterthought. However, this discussion must not end with a resigned acknowledgement of reality or a lamentation of the present plight. Instead, it must ignite fervent calls of action for dismantling structures which thrive on exploitation. We must embrace a vision that prioritises local communities and the environment whilst empowering workers who have otherwise been reduced to mere commodities. This would inevitably necessitate a re-evaluation of Tata-like figures who embody the paradox of ethical capitalism. While their carefully constructed public image suggests a commitment to social responsibility, it is crucial to dig deeper and uncover contradictory realities.
(Edited by Madiha Tariq and Srijana Siri)
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