Dimapur , Feb. 18 (EMN): There are a little over two lakh Scheduled Caste (SC) members in the state of Nagaland, according to an unexpected set of ‘new’ data that emerged recently in the Nagaland Legislative Assembly. The revelation was intriguing even if the figures may be tenderly excused for being sufficiently ancient enough in the region of 10 years.
On February 15 2020, on the concluding day of the fifth session of the 13th Nagaland Legislative Assembly, the government said that the non-Naga populations, or Schedule Caste / others category in the state was 2,67,529 out of the state’s 19,78,502 total population in Census 2011. There are no current quotes pertinent to the census within the past five years.
The number of SC members in the state as was revealed may offer a small balm for sociology research scholars and journalists who continue to wring their wrists in search of reliable statistical information about anything in “data nightmare” Nagaland.
The figures have aged. Nonetheless, it offers a few insights into the probable current general population of non-Naga persons in Nagaland, and its growth/decline during the past 10 years. The assurance here is not in possessing at least a piece of numerical dispensation to explain away the personality of Nagaland’s three most worrying issues—illegal immigrants, subsidiary economics, and the state’s dependent indigenous capital. The data must appear premium if it were not, again, ancient by contemporary geoeconomics standards.
Geoeconomics—the study of the often temporal, political aspects of economies and resources—may may be represented in the social discourses of community leaders and statements of policymakers who speak in public forums about relevant issues and problems. This is mere rhetoric unless supported by a semblance of data that would paint a picture of the problem in question. For instance, for newspaper readers in Nagaland, the traditional claim of policymakers about the percentage of people in the state engaged in agriculture production used to invariably be ‘80% of the population’ almost as a chorus even during the past five fiscals.
Then, the annual administrative report for 2018-2019 of the Economics and Statistics department stated right off the bat: “Nagaland is basically an agrarian state with about 60 percent of its population engaged in agriculture and allied activities.” The malady to the calculation here is as much about from where the figures came as it is for the methods that were employed to hustle out the numbers.
This is the reason why data, reliable data—actual data collected by actual officials from the actual ground and updated regularly—is critical to the planning process.
Census 2011 has not been without criticism. Along with demographic changes, floating populations and fickle geopolitical situations in the recent times pre- and post-ceasefire, Nagaland and its demographic profile are not what it used to be 10 years ago.
In 2010, two scholars Ankush Agrawal, an assistant professor of Economics at the Institute of Economic Growth in Delhi; and Vikas Kumar, an assistant professor of Economics at the Azim Premji University in Bangalore, presented a study ‘An Investigation into Changes in Nagaland’s Population between 1971 and 2011.’
The paper examined the census population estimates for ‘internal consistency,’ and tried to ‘validate the census estimates using information on birth and death rates from other demographic surveys and information on gross school enrolment (6-14 years population) and the electorate (adult population).’
“In fact, during this period the census information for Nagaland defied both the projections of expert committees and the trends in socio-economic correlates of fertility, which suggested a lower growth rate. There exist pervasive inconsistencies in the population estimates of different sub-groups of Nagaland, which cannot be explained by demographic factors.”
In this context, a sense of category offered by the government’s figures concerning citizens who are of Schedule Caste may be a broad yardstick to make a clarifying differentiation between indigenous citizenry and migrant citizenry, excluding illegal immigrants. The two issues contextualise the state’s perennial welfare objective: Economic ‘independence.’
There are two facets to the SC figures from which to begin explaining the economics of migration and its impact on the Naga plethora as a community that feeds off Delhi’s coffers:
The emphasis on first understanding the make-up of workforce demographics originates from the reason that that Nagaland has no industry, except for rural cottage industries. It is common knowledge, as uncomfortably broad as the definition is. When one puts in the question of illegal immigrants, and the Registry of Indigenous Citizens (or Riin) or the proposed NPR, there are dangers of communal conflicts that will need time to resolve. Thorough research—data on citizens’ mandate—is required.
The past several months of this reporter’s attempt to secure reliable statistical information about the economic personality of the state and its workforce demographics have largely been disappointing, to state it gently.
District authorities and departmental agencies, even the vital Labour, and the Industries & Commerce departments, and the administrations in Dimapur and Kohima—the state’s two most ‘forward’ development pace runners—often cited lack of reliable statistics or surveys for even an issue as ubiquitous as illegal immigrants, let alone data about the unorganised sector and its workforce. Even Nagaland’s most populous and central trading district, Dimapur, could offer no reliable information—even fairly decent statistics to satiate a reporter’s curiosity—about how many casual labourers work there.
Except for rhetoric smatterings of ‘most likely 10, 000’ or ‘must be around lakhs’ or ‘approximately hundreds’ and such indulgence, the reply was often ‘We have no statistics’ or ‘we have not conducted any study.’ In fact even at the time of this article being written, this reporter was told by a Dimapur Municipal Council (DMC) functionary to approach the Labour department for statistical information about the population of labourers in Dimapur—the council member did not know that the Labour office had actually pointed to the DMC!
Likewise it was for the Police establishments in Dimapur and Kohima. The enforcement agencies also clapped off their hands when queried about statistics related to, for instance, prosecution or arrest of illegal migrants during the recent past 5 years, and tangible data about their migrant enforcement activities during a given period.
The best statistics that could be had—from agriculture to business establishments—was, as usual, smatterings of basics from Nagaland’s Census 2011, and the odd statistical handbook gathering dust in newspaper houses.
The state’s administration urgently requires establishing a culture of conducting regular surveys and studies. It needs to start collecting economic data relevant to some of the most important geo-political and socio-economic features to chart its developmental objectives, form sound policies, and create a forum that feeds informed information. It will create an opportunity for the public—scholars, students, community forums, and data gourmets—to scrutinise, study and assist in the clarification process that policies require.
Why, the policymakers themselves need reliable, informed data. To state the obvious, lack of informed date may often equate to uniformed policies.
Developmental agencies and community institutions in Nagaland should pursue building accurate, statistical capital to give them a clear path to achieving some of the solutions which citizens seek to redress common concerns in any field: Education to economy, development to more visceral subjects such as wellbeing of citizens.
Statistical databases allow policymakers, development agencies and even individuals to analyse and simplify information about the various aspects of, in this context, planning, innovation and direction that often establish results particularly in state economics.
Data is not always reliable. But it offers a glimpse of potential through which policy makers and planners can take fairly safe decisions. This is crucial in the context of changing market dynamics for industries and economy, fickle socio-political conditions and institutions, and shoddy fiscal management, or even poor rural economy. It is not the only way to measure the personality of a political people who thrive on the next big thing in the market. Nevertheless, it is the only simpler way to forging solutions to some of the most taxing issues that Nagaland needs to address.
For instance, Nagaland has a reputation for being a community ravaged by extortion and corruption. If policymakers and community leaderships actually promoted data-centric studies to found a statistical bank for people to study the direction the society is moving toward, a significant gap in the policy chart would have been filled.
Similarly, it is a fact that politicians and state leaders often offer lengthy discourses about “excess employment” in the government sector. However, there has yet to be a study about the magnitude and deep-process effect on welfare imperatives such as health and school performance to formulate policies. Except for wide-sweeping statements about excess employment being ‘not good’ for the society, there has yet to be accredited numbers that speak more clearly.
Take for instance, even the number of unemployed youths in Nagaland appear to be affected: According to the annual administrative report of the department of Employment, Skill Development and Entrepreneurship, reported on February 9 2020, the live register of the state’s Employment, Skill Development and Entrepreneurship establishment is stated to have a total number of 90,584 registered youths looking for jobs. The report did not mention if the figures were current, yearly, or even if not, from when.
In April 2016 legislator Jacob Zhimomi was reported to have told members of Sodzulhou village in Dimapur that there was “suffering due to excess employment” and due to which the government has had to “dish out maximum of state’s exchequer to pay the salary of government employees.”
While citizens will agree with the statement that the government is indeed the biggest employer in Nagaland, it carries a most overlooked underpinning: The excess employment may be directly affecting the welfare objectives of the state.
Or, in hindsight, how excess employment in the government and the obsession with state jobs may be influensing or may even relate to growing youth unemployment due to this perception: Because the state is the chief provider, one may afford to undermine the urgency to develop industries and public enterprises.
Informed welfare political states have a strong statistical foundation from which to form policies and take sound decisions. The lack in some of the areas mentioned here may be considered a simple indicator to the poor economic profile of Nagaland. Credible data and accredited studies lead to robust policies that arbitrate the health of a state’s most significant aspects such as development, education, economy, industry, and even fiscal dispensations.
This article is written by Al Ngullie. It is one of a series of articles published in Eastern Mirror as part of the National Foundation of India fellowship, New Delhi.