Post-independence affirmative action policies to redress the class imbalance in India include reserved spots at schools for lower castes. Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy Corps.

Few Indians make it across the divide between poor and rich. But some so-called “untouchables” who have crossed it see only one way to bring fellow Dalits across: employ them themselves.

Lydia Polgreen writes in The New York Times of the struggles faced by Dalits, who occupy the very bottom rung of Hinduism’s social hierarchy, in today’s booming Indian economy. She says that while Indian law officially prohibits caste-based discrimination, ongoing social stigma in the private sector—in the form of exclusion from all but the lowest-paying jobs—has left the group among the poorest in the country.

Most struggling Dalits never turn their rags to riches, but the few whose successful businesses have catapulted them to the top have “bought rank in the market economy,” Polgreen writes. Many of their successes are, in part, the product of post-independence affirmative action policies to redress the class imbalance, including reserved spaces for lower castes in education institutions and public jobs.

Just last month, the Indian government continued this trend by requiring state and public companies to make 20 percent of their purchases from Indian businesses, specifying that a fifth of those purchases be made from businesses belonging to the country’s lower castes, like Dalits. Four percent of public purchases equals about USD $1.3 billion, which is nothing to sniff at.

The push to expand affirmative-action policies into the private sector, particularly in hiring quotas, has met harsh criticism. The Economist argues that moves in this direction would be disastrous, resulting in even more social polarization and hiding the real source of inequality—lack of access to good education— which is already being addressed by older policies, albeit inefficiently.

Meanwhile, Dalit business owners have developed their own solution. The Dalit Indian Chamber of Commerce and Industry is a thriving hub of corporate leaders bypassing government intervention altogether by networking with qualified jobseekers and filling purchase orders from other Dalit businesses. And if the group’s growth in membership and activity is a harbinger, we’ve found the bridge to cross the divide.

"We take buses, cars, motorcycles until the road stops, then we walk..." Photo: FullyFunctnlPhil (flickr)

In India, members of the Dalit caste, also known as untouchables, often work as cobblers, roadsweepers, janitors, or worse. They have been discriminated against for centuries and enjoy little to no rights. And all too often, the women are illiterate and have to ask their husbands or brothers for permission to work or go to school.

But, in the Northern state of Uttar Pradesh, a small newspaper is giving Dalit women a unique opportunity to voice their concerns. Recently, the LA Times profiled Khabar Lahariya, or News Waves, a newspaper run entirely by Dalit women. Every two weeks, they print 4,000 copies of a new issue, which is estimated to reach up to 40,000 people in and around Uttar Pradesh. The paper is supported by Nirantar, a New Delhi-based NGO that works with issues of gender, education, and development.

These women are remarkable. They're involved in every aspect of the paper — from writing articles and selling ad space, to delivering papers to remote villages. "We take buses, cars, motorcycles until the road stops, then we walk," said one staffer.

They've developed a knack for shining light on local injustices, the LA Times explains, and often get the scoop on what's happening in the community from other villagers.

The paper's recent stories included alleged bribery at health clinics, a bureaucrat reported to be siphoning off money meant for widows and a piece on the brother of a powerful politician who built a house, blocking water that had gone to Dalit farmers nearby and destroying their livelihood.

The paper has received a lot of positive feedback from the surrounding communities. Residents used to complain that Dalits' issues were underrepresented in mainstream media. One shop owner tells the LA Times how much he values Khabar Lahariya as a news source:

Other papers aren't printed in our language and don't write about local news we're most interested in... This really feels like our own. I just wish it were more than eight pages so I'd have more to read.