There's trouble brewing with Darjeeling tea

DARJEELING

With the mighty Kanchenjunga standing tall, verdant tea gardens dotting its rolling hills and the rhythmic echoes of Buddhist chants, chapel bells and the chug of the ‘toy train’, Darjeeling had something for everyone; it was everyone’s cup of tea. But now, it is losing the very essence that made it world famous―the hallowed Darjeeling tea.

The tea leaves have changed colours―from shiny green to blackish green. That is not the only change that has pushed the crown jewel of India’s tea industry, rooted in a centuries-old system introduced by the British, to the brink. The picturesque tea gardens with majestic mountain silhouettes in the backdrop are facing multiple challenges―from climate change to political unrest and labour dissatisfaction.

THE HEAT IS ON

From the misty hills of Darjeeling to the lush plantations of Kenya and China, tea growers across the world are grappling with frequent climate extremes. These shifting weather patterns are disrupting harvests and diminishing quality.

This season, erratic weather patterns have cast a shadow over Darjeeling’s coveted first flush of tea crops, popularly known as the ‘champagne of teas’ owing to its delicate muscatel and fruity aroma and amber colour. The magic of Darjeeling’s first flush lies in the uniqueness of the terrain where it is grown―high-altitude slopes, year-round cool temperatures and plenty of rain. These natural elements create the distinct flavour that makes it a global sensation. Despite forming only 20 per cent of the total tea produced in the Darjeeling hills, first flush contributes 40 per cent to the annual revenue of the industry.

“Trying to rectify the problem caused by nature is impossible,” Anshuman Kanoria, owner of Goomtee Tea Estate, told THE WEEK. “There is shortage of rainfall. The first flush plucking season has been delayed by almost a month now. If it does not rain in the next few days, then we will have to forget about the first flush.”

In recent years, temperatures in the region have climbed by 0.5°C―a seemingly small shift, but with far-reaching consequences. Rainfall has become increasingly unpredictable, with prolonged dry spells and an overall drop in annual precipitation to around 152.5cm. At the same time, relative humidity has dipped by approximately 16 per cent, compounding the stress on tea crops.

Environmental activist Bharat Prakash Rai has been observing this transformation with growing concern. “Over the years, we have watched the forests vanish,” said Rai, who is also secretary of the Federation of Societies for Environmental Protection, which works for biodiversity conservation in the hills of north Bengal. “Those forests weren’t just scenic; they were the life support of the tea gardens.”

Earlier, trees and shrubs in the surrounding forests absorbed moisture from the air and channelled it back into the soil through their roots, maintaining a delicate hydrological balance. This natural system kept the tea bushes hydrated throughout the year and helped shield the fragile hillsides from landslides. But with the forest cover rapidly thinning, the soil is drying out, and tea growers are now forced to rely on artificial irrigation methods to sustain their crops.

Not only is the Darjeeling tea’s quality suffering, but its total production has also dropped significantly over the years―from 14 million kg in the 1970s to 5.51 million kg in 2024. Tea estate owners, meanwhile, are looking at the government to come up with some measures.

“People often talk about rainwater harvesting like it is a simple fix, but in the hills, it is very difficult to manage and costly as well,” said Kanoria. “Irrigation helps the bushes recover a bit once the rains arrive, but it doesn’t boost yield on its own. Even the waterfalls we once relied on have dried up. Now, we are forced to fetch water from 5km to 7km away, which would require proper pipelines. But the truth is, there is no functioning government scheme in place to support irrigation or other much-needed infrastructure development.”

LOOKING FOR LABOUR

Tea estates that once bustled with activity in the cool, crisp mornings today paint a troubling picture of silence, owing to worker absenteeism. Plucking tea leaves is quite laborious and requires skill. Workers get a daily wage of just Rs250. After deductions, it comes down to Rs220, which is less than the government minimum wage. The younger generation, once expected to inherit the job in tea gardens, prefer to leave for a better life.

Anil Jha, president, Jay Shree Tea & Industries Ltd, claims that labour absenteeism ranges between 40 and 60 per cent. “To counter absenteeism, we have started hiring workers from outside the garden,” he said.

Tea estates for centuries have functioned as self-contained ecosystems. Workers have settled down in the paltry quarters assigned to their forefathers on the estate. Families were allotted small patches of land for their livelihood, supplementing their meagre wages. But estate rules dictated that at least one family member must remain employed in the garden to retain their home. Tea garden owners claim that most families today don’t send anyone to work in the gardens, but continue to occupy the quarters. Workers, meanwhile, demand both legal ownership of their homes and a fair wage.

Supporting their demand is the Paschim Banga Cha Majoor Samiti, a non-partisan trade union. It argues that the current policy violates international commitments, specifically the Indigenous and Tribal Populations Convention, 1957 (Convention No 107) of the International Labour Organization―a treaty India has ratified. Under it, the government is obligated to recognise and protect the land rights of tribal populations over territories they have traditionally occupied.

Tea garden workers demand the same and in a bid to satisfy their demand, the West Bengal government offered ‘refugee pattas’ of five decimals (five cents) per family following a survey. Tea workers refused and protested against the government decision.“Tea workers are not refugees,” said Abhijit Mazumdar, a politburo member of CPI(ML) Liberation. “Most families already occupy land much larger than five decimals when you consider their homes and adjoining farms. Their demand is simple―recognise the land they have used for generations as theirs.”

Limiting each family to a tiny plot could disrupt vital sources of secondary income. Jayanti Mangar Thapa, a plucker in Gielle Tea Estate, lives with her husband, daughter, son and daughter-in-law. While she makes Rs6,000 from the garden every month, her husband runs a cow shed and sells milk, additionally making Rs4,000. Their son earns about Rs10,000, but he has his own family to run. “Our daughter is in high school and she wants to go to a college in Kolkata next year. If we are forced to stay with only five decimals of land, then our cowshed will get smaller. We don’t know how we will manage,” said Thapa, 47.

Traditional tea workers claim they have been stripped off other benefits as well. “Tea companies used to provide everything―ration, schooling, health care, housing, clothes, even firewood,” recalled Ajoy Edwards, founder of the Hamro Party and owner of Darjeeling’s iconic Glenary’s Café. “The amount of money they used to get was just extra because the fringe benefits took care of everything.”

With benefits gone and wages stagnant, many workers are migrating out of the gardens altogether. “Even a construction job in Darjeeling or Siliguri pays more than Rs500 a day,” said Edwards. “Can you blame them for leaving?”

Industry leaders, however, continue to deflect blame. “The main issue is that the educated lot are not willing to work in the tea gardens,” said Sandeep Mukherjee, principal adviser, Darjeeling Tea Association. “They do not want to do labour-intensive work. They would prefer working in an AC environment, in malls, in big cities. Low wages or not getting enough statutory benefits is not the primary issue. There are other things like bonus, which is not included here. If you add up all this, it comes to more than Rs400.”

But for workers, those bonuses are far from guaranteed. As in previous years, last season’s festive bonus negotiations ended in disappointment. Protests, road blockades and hunger strikes led to a 16 per cent bonus, which was below the 20 per cent demand. As a new plucking season looms, workers are drawing the line. After a couple of meetings in March between trade unions, state government’s labour board and estate ownership, workers in some gardens have started working. But in many gardens work is yet to begin.

Sachin Durpin, a worker in Long View Tea Estate, claimed that his provident fund has been due since 2014. “Many workers have not received gratuity as well even after retirement,” said Durpin, whose parents retired as tea workers.

As a result, workers across Darjeeling continue their protest, demanding guaranteed minimum wage, timely provident fund and gratuity payments, restored health care facilities and basic supplies like raincoats and umbrellas . Backed by unions, workers from multiple estates have united to present their demands to the Darjeeling Tea Association.

SIMMERING ANGER

In the tea gardens of Darjeeling, Dooars, and the Terai, unease is growing thicker than the morning fog. On February 5, 2025, Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee announced 30 per cent of tea estate land not currently under tea cultivation could be repurposed―for tourism, industry and other commercial ventures. The state government later amended the 2019 Tea Tourism and Allied Business Policy and increased what was earlier 15 per cent land usage for tea tourism and allied business to 30 per cent.

While the move is seen by some as a lifeline for struggling estate owners, it has struck a raw nerve among the region’s indigenous communities. For generations, adivasi and Gorkha families have toiled on these estates, their histories entwined with the land. Now, that bond is under threat. The small plots the families use for kitchen gardens, poultry or animal husbandry could be seized, erasing vital sources of food and income.

“In land where there’s no tea plantation, we work to make some additional income. We cultivate betel nuts and earn about Rs40,000 annually,” says Umesh Lama, who, with his wife Tanuja, lives and works in Long View tea garden. Their son Rewang, 16, studies at a private school in Kurseong and aspires to be an engineer.

What the government views as a push for economic revival, many in the hills see as a looming threat to identity, tradition and home. “We have seen this policy fail in Makaibari and Chumta tea estates,” said Edwards, who claims there is no free or unused land inside tea gardens. “For a night in Makaibari’s Taj resort in peak season, the tariffs are nearly Rs50,000. But our garden workers are still getting paid Rs220 there.”

Former Gorkha Territorial Administration chairman Binoy Tamang said that if the government tried to bulldoze its way, Darjeeling may erupt as it did in 2017 when the state government tried to make Bengali a compulsory subject in all schools across the state. “It is always better to take labourers in confidence and then move ahead for the betterment of the tea gardens,” he said.

The amended policy, BJP MP from Darjeeling Raju Bista said in a written response to THE WEEK, violated multiple state and Central laws, including the West Bengal Land Reforms Act of 1955, the Tea Act of 1953, and the West Bengal Estates Acquisition Act of 1953. More critically, it poses a direct threat to the fundamental “right to life and livelihood” guaranteed under Article 21 of the Constitution. “By pushing for this 30 per cent land diversion, the Trinamool government is inviting the people of north Bengal to launch a mass movement. If they remain adamant and don’t withdraw the notification, they will face the consequences of their action,” he said.

Even a section of tea estate owners are not satisfied with the new policy. For Kanoria, this policy is good if it can supplement the income he makes from his garden. “But if you are asking me to do some other business to just break even while my tea business remains in loss then I will sell my garden,” he said. Instead, he suggests that the industry should put a renewed focus on taking Darjeeling tea to new markets such as China to revive its fortunes.

For CPI(ML) Liberation leader Majumdar, the new policy could open the door for exploitation of tea gardens and put the entire tea industry on the verge of extinction. He cites the example of New Chumta Tea Estate, where a five-star resort has come up. “Initially, five acres were given. But as construction began, it expanded further,” he said. “What is the guarantee that the government won’t increase the cap in the future?”

What is needed, said Edwards, is a rethink on how the tea industry operates. “We cannot have the colonial culture of burra sahib, chhota sahib and bungalow maids and gardeners and chefs and hierarchy, which still lingers,” he said. “It is time Darjeeling adopts fresh, inclusive ideas where workers aren’t just labourers but also a part of profit-sharing mechanism.”

A RAY OF HOPE

The future that Edwards envisions is being turned into reality by a handful of small tea growers (STGs) in the hills of Darjeeling. Across the Darjeeling district, 829 STGs―alongside 104 in Kalimpong―are reclaiming control over their land and livelihoods. Together, they cultivate around 250 hectares of tea, free from the colonial hierarchies that still dominate many of India’s larger estates.

And behind this quiet uprising stands one man, Rajah Banerjee. The former owner of the iconic Makaibari Tea Estate and a champion of organic farming now mentors STGs through his brand, Rimpocha Tea. His goal is ambitious―reintroduce green farming by using natural compost and fertilisers and empower marginalised farmers to become self-reliant.

One of Banerjee’s standout protégés is Rajeev Pradhan, 36. Once an employee across various tea estates, Pradhan today cultivates tea organically on his 5.5-acre plot in and around Kurseong. “I pay my workers Rs325 a day, plus lunch,” he said.

But for Banerjee, the change must be deeper. “Villages in India are diverse,” he said. “They prioritise food, livestock and self-sufficiency. Why can’t tea estates evolve into the same?” Under his guidance, STGs in five villages cultivate not just tea but essential food crops such as corn and livestock, ensuring food security and economic diversity. He also turned his focus to women, who, as he puts it, “bend their backs the hardest and are exploited the most”. His belief is simple: empower women, and you empower the community.

The story doesn’t end at empowerment. There is innovation, too―steeped in both science and spirituality. Last October, 200 Rimpocha pluckers gathered under a full moon to harvest Silver Needle White Imperial tea, using only fire torches. “Electric lights emit waves that harm the leaves,” said Banerjee. The workers, chanting “Hami prakriti... Hami azambari (I am nature... I am eternal)”, infused the moonlight harvest with a rhythm that felt more like ritual than labour. The final product? A rare tea sold at a stunning $5,000 per kilo.

Banerjee said that Rimpocha’s model has shown the Darjeeling tea industry what it needs to do to stay relevant. What’s needed is a collaborative model where government bodies, unions, local representatives and estate owners come together to form a shared management structure. “You have to think out of the box,” said Banerjee, “because if you don’t, there is going to be a lot of pain.”