Over 100 writers, poets and publishers slam JCB Literature Prize’s ‘hypocrisy’ over bulldozer demolitions
Behzad Parvez | Clarion India
THE prestigious JCB Prize for Literature, celebrating the nation’s literary excellence with a reward of Rs 25 lakh (approximately $30,000), has come into sharp focus due to a troubling contradiction: the very company funding the prize is implicated in global acts of violence and oppression, from India to Palestine.
Overseen by the British construction giant JCB and its literature foundation, the prize is heralded as a significant platform for Indian writers. The five-novel shortlist for its 2024 edition features two debut novels and three translations from Bengali, Marathi and Malayalam. Jayasree Kalathil, who translated the 2020 winner Moustache (by S Hareesh), has been nominated for the prize for the third time.
The shortlist was announced in Gurugram last month, and included readings from the shortlisted novels by Sunil Mehra, Sahunak Sen, Deepti Sashidharan and Tridip Suhrud.
JCB has become an enduring symbol of what activists have dubbed “bulldozer justice” in India. Under the leadership of Prime Minister Narendra Modi and his Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), JCB equipment has been used extensively in demolition drives targeting Muslim homes, businesses, and places of worship. Dalit communities and other marginalised groups have also been victimised in these state-backed actions, often under the pretext of clearing “illegal” structures.
These demolitions are widely viewed as part of a broader Hindutva agenda — an ethno-nationalist ideology that seeks to establish India as a Hindu-only nation. Government officials have openly called for the genocide of Muslims, making the systematic destruction of minority communities’ homes an unmistakable step toward ethnic cleansing.
JCB in Palestine
The controversy surrounding JCB extends beyond Indian borders. Amnesty International has documented the use of JCB bulldozers in the demolition of Palestinian homes and infrastructure in the occupied West Bank, actions tied to illegal settlement expansion. These demolitions are carried out under contracts between JCB’s Israeli dealer, Comasco Ltd., and Israel’s Ministry of Defence, effectively making the company complicit in violations of international law.
As bombs continue to fall on Gaza and displacement continues in the West Bank, JCB’s involvement serves as a grim reminder of its role in sustaining systemic violence.
Open Letter
Over a hundred writers, poets and publishers have come out with an open letter condemning JCB, the British bulldozer manufacturer and organiser of a literature prize, for allegedly “uprooting” the lives of poor and marginalised in India as well as Palestine.
The letter accuses the prize committee of glossing over the company’s complicity in human rights abuses.
The signatories are part of the broader campaign “JCB: Stop Bulldozer Genocide,” which demands that JCB sever its ties with Israel’s Ministry of Defence and ensure that its machinery is not used in human rights violations in India. The campaign also calls for the mandatory implementation of JCB’s LiveLink technology — system that can trace its machines — to prevent their misuse in acts of violence.
Troubling Record
JCB’s troubling record is also enmeshed in the politics of the British establishment. The company’s chairman, Anthony Bamford, is a major donor to the UK Conservative Party, contributing £300,000 in 2024 alone. Bamford’s close ties to former prime minister Boris Johnson — including hosting Johnson’s wedding — highlight the mutual back-scratching between corporate interests and political power.
Adding to the scandal, former UK energy minister Claire Coutinho faced accusations of a conflict of interest after accepting donations from Lord Bamford while awarding millions in green grants to JCB businesses. Such connections reveal a web of corporate greenwashing and offshore tax scandals surrounding the Bamford empire.
Words and Ruins
The JCB Prize for Literature claims to promote the “full diversity of India’s literature.” Yet this rhetoric stands in stark contrast to the company’s actions, which have contributed to the erasure of marginalised voices and homes. Even the diversity within the prize has been called into question, as nearly all shortlisted candidates this year are Hindu, and four out of five are men — despite being overseen by a predominantly female panel.
As the literary world gathers to celebrate the power of words, the glaring contradictions of the prize cast a shadow over its prestige. Can literature funded by a company complicit in violence truly be a force for justice? Or does it, like the bulldozers it sponsors, serve to level dissent under the weight of corporate power?
The answer, it seems, lies not in the gleaming halls of literary galas but in the ruins left behind.
