Bangladeshis in Our Cities: The Hidden Migrant Crisis

Maharashtra Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis has resolved to crack down on illegal Bangladeshi immigrants in Mumbai. But who are these immigrants, how many are there?

The numbers remain elusive. Various estimates suggest tens of thousands—possibly even hundreds of thousands—reside in the Mumbai metropolitan area. To the discerning eye, they are everywhere: in bustling bazaars, on construction sites, in restaurants and even at municipal waste centers. From fruit sellers at Vashi Plaza to labourers in Navi Mumbai’s residential complexes, the prevalence of Bangladeshi workers is striking. They often blend into the urban tapestry, presenting themselves as migrants from West Bengal or Assam, aided by fake Indian identity documents acquired through corrupt networks.

The motivations for migration are clear. Bangladesh’s dense population and limited economic opportunities drive people to India, where they take up low-paying jobs often spurned by locals. Construction work, domestic help, street vending and small-scale factory jobs are dominated by these migrants. Their willingness to accept lower wages and poor working conditions creates resentment among Indians displaced from such roles.

The impact of illegal immigration extends beyond employment. In cities like Mumbai, infrastructure and public services are already stretched to breaking point. Schools, hospitals and public transport groan under the weight of an ever-increasing population. Bangladeshi children admitted under quotas for economically weaker sections have begun to crowd classrooms in private schools, while public hospitals are overwhelmed by patients lacking documentation or legal residency.

The security implications are equally troubling. Law enforcement agencies periodically arrest Bangladeshi nationals involved in criminal activities, including theft, smuggling, and even militancy. The arrest of undocumented migrants, however, rarely results in deportation. Deportation remains a bureaucratic quagmire, hindered by poor cooperation between Indian and Bangladeshi authorities.

There are darker undercurrents too. Some immigrants have been linked to extremist networks or act as conduits for espionage. Instances of radical preaching by Bangladeshi clerics in Indian cities highlight the potential for ideological subversion. For decades, illegal Bangladeshi migration has been entwined with Indo-Bangladesh relations. The initial wave, in the 1980s, was reportedly aided by underworld syndicates that used migrants as couriers, enforcers or sex workers.

Identifying these migrants can be difficult, particularly as many speak Bengali and adopt Indian-sounding nicknames to avoid detection. Their fluency in Hindi and Urdu further complicates matters. Yet subtle differences in dialect and cultural practices occasionally reveal their origins to those with a trained eye.

India faces a dilemma. On one hand, illegal Bangladeshi immigrants fill a labour gap in roles that are unattractive to locals. On the other, they strain already limited resources, disrupt labour markets and pose security threats. Successive governments have struggled to implement coherent policies, oscillating between rhetoric and sporadic crackdowns.

Addressing the issue requires more than ad hoc measures. India needs robust border management, effective bilateral dialogue with Bangladesh and streamlined deportation processes. Corruption among local officials must be curbed. For now, the sight of Bangladeshis labouring in anonymity remains a common one in India’s metropolises. Unless structural reforms accompany political will, the question of illegal immigration will remain unanswered.

(The author runs an NGO, Society for Economic and Entrepreneurship Development. Views personal.)