Unrecognised Status, Visible Struggles, Over-Arching Patriarchy
ASHA Workers and a Quest for Identity- PART II
Introduction
This Part is the second of a two-part article on the unrecognised status of ASHA (Accredited Social Health Activist) workers in India. This piece lays out the underlying precarity documented in Part I: the feminisation of care work. Part I establishes ASHA workers’ legal claim to recognition as workers, but this Part asks why this recognition has been systematically denied and finds the answer in the convergence of capitalist patriarchy, gendered assumptions about care and marginalisation. The two Parts argue in tandem that the fight for the rights of ASHA workers is also an anti-gender-discrimination fight. Labour law reform, on its own, is not enough without tackling these deeper structural and gendered inequalities.
The first segment explores the various dimensions associated with feminisation of labour while the second segment explains the concept of patriarchy’s effect on care work. The third segment deals with structural dimensions of the law, while the fourth segment outlines gender-based violence and lack of security faced by ASHA workers.
Dimensions of Feminisation of Labour
While societal norms and expectations influence economic roles, labour practices reinforce gender discrimination. Feminisation can be effectively viewed in two spheres i.e. quantitatively and qualitatively. Quantitatively, it refers to increasing female participation in workforce. Yet over 150 laws limit their employment in industries like petroleum, electroplating etc. The Punjab Excise Act, 1914 reinforces patriarchal morals by prohibiting women from serving alcohol, reflecting the gendered lens through which legislations are drafted. On the other hand, qualitatively, feminisation deals with labour process by emphasising low pay scale, forced flexibility, and job insecurity that are synonymous with female-dominated work. This part primarily focuses on the question of qualitative feminisation with ASHAs as epicentre.
In the fiercely competitive market landscape, MNCs are strategically employing a mixed workforce of full-time and part-time labour, primarily to evade legal obligations tied to labour benefits, thereby slashing production costs. Unfortunately, the burden of this practice disproportionately falls on female workers, as due to their relegation as secondary status in the labour market, they are often hired as part-time workers.
Additionally, women’s role as the “reserve labour force” in the global economy is well supported by statistics. Women are disproportionately concentrated in informal, part-time, and unstable employment, undertake almost 4 times more unpaid care and household labour, and have a larger employment gap than males (15% versus 10.5%). Women lost more jobs and recovered more slowly during economic downturns like the COVID-19 epidemic, and they were frequently forced back into unpaid household duties. Women’s labour is often viewed as flexible, disposable, and accessible on demand rather than as steady, fully valued employment, as evidenced by the fact that they make up a sizable portion of involuntary part-time workers and workers in the informal sector.
This reinforces their role as the reserve and disposable workforce, easily hired and dismissed at will.
Similarly, government’s deliberate classification of ASHAs as part-time labourers strips them of essential protections, further entrenching the notion that their roles are grounded in the “ethics of care”. This concept, articulated by Carol Gilligan, asserts that women’s inherent inclination to care for others does not negate their capacity for logical decision-making or professional worth. Yet, the government, like MNCs, capitalizes on gendered stereotypes to exploit ASHAs by framing their critical healthcare roles as mere caregiving, devaluing their labour under the guise of part-time work. Both public and corporate sectors capitalize on gendered assumptions to undervalue female labour.
Patriarchy and its Impact on Care Work
The discourse, reducing their skilled labour to an extension of traditional domestic and maternal roles, is enabled by the framework of ‘capitalist patriarchy’ through which legislations are formulated. In ASHAs’ Health Services: Social Service or Care Work?, the author narrates Malti’s experience, an ASHA worker whose family reduces her essential healthcare role to mere household extension, emblematic of broader societal perceptions. This conflation of gender and labour leads to ASHAs being paid meagre, sub-minimum wages and labelled as “honorary volunteers” by the state, an insidious move that underscores the government’s gendered lens on care work. This systematic devaluation while erasing the critical impact of ASHA workers also deeply undermines their sense of self-worth, forcing many, like Malti, to see themselves as mere social helpers rather than indispensable healthcare agents.
Moreover, extensive presence of SC and ST women in the ASHA workforce, alongside feminised undervaluation, highlights how gender and caste-based marginalisation converge and perpetuate systemic inequalities within the labour market. Thus, it can be argued that in addition to ASHA workers being marginalised there is the flavour of caste discrimination mixed in it as well.
Structural exclusions of the law
These ideologies add up to the contentious problem faced by the ASHA workers i.e. wages. The widespread assumption that love and money are incompatible underpins the notion that raising monetary remuneration would be viewed as meaningless because care labour is intrinsically motivated by compassion and affection. In states like West Bengal and Rajasthan, they are paid around Rs 3000, while in Telangana, the amount is Rs 6000. These “honorary volunteers,” are denied minimum wages and instead receive honorariums for their so-called “voluntary” services. This classification deliberately circumvents the 240-day continuous service requirement under the IRC, stripping them of key legal rights and recognition as permanent workers. As a result, the government’s responsibilities towards them are significantly minimized.
Gendered Violence and Security Pitfalls
Amid ongoing protests over the exploitation of ASHA workers, the COVID-19 pandemic introduced a new dimension, the severe lack of security. Tasked with educating the public and monitoring symptoms, they were provided with little to no government support. In Madhya Pradesh, ASHAs staged protests for honorarium for services rendered during COVID -19 and basic amenities such as Personal Protection Equipment (PPE) etc. This situation begs the question as to why ASHA workers were not being provided basic amenities while the formal healthcare institutions received the basic necessitates. The most prominent thought that comes to mind is the lack of importance attached with the job. ASHAs’ vital role in limiting the epidemic was hidden by classifying them as volunteers rather than employees. They were also vulnerable in a number of ways as a result of this devaluation. According to a study conducted in Karnataka, the majority of ASHAs are victims of economic violence (88%) and emotional abuse (73%), with notable percentages also experiencing physical violence (26%) and sexual violence (32%). In a similar vein, just 23% of ASHAs received protective bodysuits throughout the epidemic, according to an Oxfam India study, and nearly a third said they encountered aggression or prejudice while carrying out their jobs. These results show that the marginalisation of ASHA employees goes beyond low pay to include hazardous working conditions, social disdain, and institutional indifference. By equalising ASHA workers with volunteers their role in curbing the spread of the pandemic is overlooked.
In addition to these challenges, ASHA workers have increasingly reported incidents of sexual harassment, which became especially acute during COVID-19, as they were subjected to attacks while collecting travel histories. The disrespect and violence meted out to them are deeply rooted in gender discrimination. This persistent gendered vulnerability, heightened by the feminised nature of labour, accentuates the need for fair wages, enhanced protection, and recognition of the critical contributions ASHA workers make to public health.
Conclusion
ASHA, translating to ‘hope’, is integral to the community healthcare system. Their long-drawn pivotal support is a fair testament to the demand for their recognition as “workmen” under the IRC to provide them with the benefits they deserve. The ongoing mobilisation of more than a million ASHA employees in eighteen states is a structural critique of a policy framework intended to take care of women while depriving them of the legal personhood necessary to make that job payable. The fact that governments and courts have refused to acknowledge this shows judicial respect to the State’s self-serving portrayal of its own workforce.
The scheme’s fundamental tenet is the feminisation of ASHA employment. A common logic, that gendered social responsibility may take the place of legal requirement is operationalised by the eligibility limitation to women, the framing of labour as voluntary community service, and the structural lack of employment security. In 2022, ASHAs received the Global Health Leaders Award from the WHO. In law, not in rhetoric, acknowledgement requires that the women who earned it be compensated for their labour. There must be reconceptualization and reassessment of status and social security rights and a reconsideration of intent by the legislature and judiciary. It is high time that ASHAs are paid back for their service to the nation.
Author Bio: Palak and Bratati are 4th-year students at the The West Bengal National University of Juridical Sciences (NUJS).
[Editorial note: This piece was edited by Aditi Bhojnagarwala and published by Vedang Chouhan from the Student Editorial Board]
