Why May Day Celebration Still Continues?
-Bruhaspati Samal-
The first cry of labour was not a slogan—it was a rebellion against invisibility. When workers in the streets of Chicago in 1886 rose against endless hours and unbearable conditions, they were not merely demanding an eight-hour workday; they were reclaiming their existence as human beings. That cry did not end with history. It echoes even today, across factories, fields, construction sites, and digital platforms. That is why May Day is not a concluded chapter. May Day continues. To understand why it continues, one must move beyond the comfort of ceremonies and confront the discomfort of reality. The world may have formally recognized workers’ rights, but the essence of the struggle—dignity—remains unsettled. Labour is still treated as expendable, replaceable, and subordinate to capital. The philosophical core of May Day lies in challenging this reduction. It insists that labour is not an economic variable but a human condition, inseparable from identity, dignity, and justice.
India presents perhaps the most profound contradiction in this context. It is a nation powered by one of the largest workforces in the world, yet the lived reality of that workforce reveals deep fractures. According to recent labour data, nearly 88.4% of employment in India remains informal, lacking job security, contracts, or social protection. This is not a marginal issue—it is the dominant structure of work itself. Informality is not an exception; it is the norm. The numbers deepen the philosophical crisis. Over 58% of workers are self-employed, often not by choice but by compulsion, reflecting a lack of stable wage employment. Within the category of regular salaried workers, more than 58% have no written contracts, and over 53% lack access to any form of social security. What does this reveal? That even where work exists, dignity is uncertain. Employment without security is not empowerment—it is vulnerability disguised as opportunity.
May Day continues because the structure of exploitation has evolved, not disappeared. The old factory has transformed into fragmented workplaces, gig platforms, and invisible supply chains. Yet the fundamental imbalance remains intact. Workers still struggle to negotiate fair wages, reasonable hours, and basic protections. The law may promise rights, but reality often withholds them. Even the macro indicators of employment reflect this instability. The unemployment rate, though statistically moderate at around 5–6%, hides deeper distress in underemployment and precarious work. A person counted as “employed” may still be earning barely enough to survive. In fact, a significant portion of India’s workforce earns extremely low incomes, with limited upward mobility. This silent economic struggle rarely makes headlines, yet it defines the everyday existence of millions. The philosophical significance of May Day lies precisely here—in exposing the gap between existence and dignity. To work is not enough; to work with dignity is the true measure of justice. When a worker labours without security, without recognition, without a voice, society fails at its most fundamental level. Economic growth then becomes an illusion—an expansion of numbers without an expansion of humanity.
In India, this contradiction is also cultural. While labour is praised in rhetoric, it is stratified in practice. Intellectual labour is elevated, manual labour is diminished, and informal labour is often ignored. This hierarchy is not merely economic—it is moral. It shapes how society values individuals, often equating worth with status rather than contribution. May Day challenges this deeply embedded bias. It calls for a reordering of values where every form of labour is respected, not selectively glorified. The transition from traditional labour laws to modern labour codes has been projected as a step towards efficiency and simplification. But the philosophical question remains unresolved: can legal restructuring alone ensure dignity? Laws can regulate conditions, but they cannot transform attitudes. They can define rights, but they cannot guarantee respect. The real struggle lies beyond legislation—in the social consciousness that either affirms or denies the dignity of labour.
The events of recent years have made this reality impossible to ignore. During the pandemic, millions of migrant workers were forced into distress, walking hundreds of kilometres in search of survival. That moment was not an anomaly; it was a revelation. It exposed how deeply labour is embedded in the economy, and how quickly it is abandoned when systems fail. It showed that the worker is essential in production, but often invisible in policy.
May Day continues because this invisibility persists. It continues because the worker remains central to the economy but peripheral to power. It continues because the promise of justice has not yet translated into lived experience. At the same time, the nature of work itself is undergoing transformation. Automation, digitalization, and platform economies are reshaping labour relations. While these changes bring new opportunities, they also create new vulnerabilities. Workers are increasingly isolated, detached from collective bargaining structures, and exposed to unpredictable income streams. The idea of a stable job is gradually being replaced by fragmented engagements. In such a world, the philosophy of May Day becomes even more urgent. It insists that technological progress must not outpace ethical responsibility.
To celebrate May Day, therefore, is not to indulge in symbolism—it is to engage in reflection and resistance. It is a moment to question whether society is moving towards justice or merely towards efficiency. It is a reminder that progress cannot be measured solely in economic terms; it must also be measured in human terms. The continuity of May Day is not a sign of failure; it is a sign of unfinished responsibility. It tells us that the struggle for dignity is not a one-time event but an ongoing process. Each generation inherits this struggle, reshapes it, and carries it forward. The forms may change, but the essence remains constant.
The responsibility does not lie with workers alone. It lies with all stakeholders. Governments must move beyond policy announcements and ensure effective implementation of protections. Employers must recognize that fair wages and humane conditions are not burdens but obligations. Society must dismantle its hierarchical view of labour and embrace equality in respect. And workers must continue to organize, assert, and demand what history has always shown—that rights are not given, they are claimed.
May Day continues because the question it raises remains unanswered: can a society truly progress while those who build it remain insecure and undervalued? Until that question is resolved, May Day will not end. It will continue—as a voice, as a struggle, and as a conscience.
(The author is a Service Union Representative and a Columnist, presently working as the General Secretary, Confederation of Central Govt Employees and Workers and President, Forum of Civil Pensioners' Association / National Coordination Committee of Pensioners' Association, Odisha State Committee)
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