By Komal Gupta
The spirit of cooperation isn’t new to India; it lives in our memory and our soil. You’ll find it in the way villages once shared their wells, stored grain together for leaner seasons, or managed temple trusts with quiet consensus. Long before it became policy, Sahakar was simply how communities survived and thrived collectively. However, in the current moment, as the Ministry of Cooperation attempts to recast this age-old ethic into a modern engine for prosperity, we are witnessing something far more profound than a policy shift. We are seeing the resurgence of a Dharmic concept, one that deserves to be treated not just as economic design, but as a sacred collective act.
A yajna, in the classical Indian worldview, is a structured offering made by a group of participants for the common good, governed by shared intent, ritual clarity, and institutional roles. If one truly observes the nature of the cooperative movement, especially in the current phase of reform, it bears all the elements of a yajna: initiators, facilitators, offerings, sacred fire, and a shared goal. But as with any sacred act, alignment is everything.
In July 2025, standing in the heartland of India’s cooperative legacy, Union Home and Cooperation Minister Amit Shah spoke not just of policy, but of purpose, unveiling a series of transformative steps that reaffirmed the government’s deepening commitment to the spirit of Sahakar. From inaugurating India’s first National Cooperative University, Tribhuvan Sahakari University in Anand, to announcing the rollout of a 20-year National Cooperative Policy, the Ministry has laid the foundation for what could be the most significant structural reform in India’s rural economy in decades.
The upcoming launch of the National Cooperative Policy 2025, scheduled for July 24, 2025, will further mark a significant milestone. The policy is expected to provide a structured roadmap for India’s cooperative ecosystem from 2024 to 2047, with strong emphasis on sustainability, inclusivity, and economic empowerment. Developed through an extensive consultative process involving 17 meetings and regional workshops, the policy is set to propose new apex-level institutions such as a Development Financial Institution for Cooperatives, a Centre for Excellence, a National Cooperative Recruitment Board, and a National Cooperative Tribunal. Together, these reforms aim to modernise and institutionalise Sahakar as a vehicle for national prosperity.
This vision, named Sahakar Se Samriddhi, is not merely about decentralising economic activity. It is about returning dignity and agency to millions of Indians who operate outside formal markets, but within deeply interdependent communities. If realised with cultural precision and strategic clarity, it could re-anchor our development model in the ethos of Dharma.
India’s cooperative footprint is already among the largest in the world. With over 8.5 lakh cooperatives and more than 29 crore members, the cooperative ecosystem spans credit, dairy, textiles, agriculture, housing, and now, digital infrastructure. However, the system has historically suffered from fragmentation, political interference, and low institutional accountability.
On the ground, many Primary Agricultural Credit Societies (PACS) function in name alone, weighed down by outdated systems or local disinterest. Women, who often form the backbone of cooperative activity, still find themselves on the margins when decisions are made. And the language of reform remains distant and bureaucratic, rarely speaking to the lived realities or cultural rhythms of rural India. In such a landscape, viewing the cooperative movement as a yajna, a sacred, participatory act, offers not just a metaphor, but a much-needed realignment of intent, voice, and energy.
In this paradigm, the Ministry becomes the Yajman, the initiator of sacred intent. The implementers across states and districts become Ritviks, those who operationalise the ritual. The offerings (Havisya) are the time, labour, knowledge, and participation of farmers, weavers, women self-help groups, and frontline cooperators. The platforms, whether Sahakari Universities, National Dairy Development Board (NDDB) labs, PACS digitisation portals, or Amul dairy boards, serve as the Agni, the sacred fire that transforms these offerings into collective benefit. And the Phala, or outcome, is Samriddhi, not just in terms of GDP, but in terms of self-reliance, dignity, and shared value.
But for this yajna to truly succeed, it must overcome some quiet yet persistent challenges.
First, the way we talk about cooperatives, the stories we tell, is still far too dry, too technical. Well-meaning terms like “credit linkage” or “market integration” often feel like distant abstractions to those in the field. What truly moves people are ideas that speak to identity, to trust, to collective responsibility. If the spirit of Sahakar is to take root deeply, we must move beyond paperwork and policy notes, and speak in stories that feel like their own.
Second, and equally vital, is the role of women. While schemes like the Nandini Sahakar Yojana and Swayam Shakti have rightly tried to bring more women into the fold, real change goes beyond the number of women in attendance. It’s about voice, authority, and presence, ensuring women are not just participating, but shaping and leading the cooperative journey in their own right.
Women must be seen not only as members, but as Yajniks, the ritual leaders who hold the process together with care, vision, and intergenerational wisdom. This requires investment in leadership pathways, visibility platforms, and decentralised storytelling models that centre women’s experiences.
Third, implementation mechanisms need an internal ritual logic. Take the new initiative to register 2 lakh PACS by February 2026. The scale is ambitious. But if the design ignores cultural protocols, institutional mentorship, and localised capacity-building, the yajna risks becoming mechanical. The Agni must be nurtured. Institutions like Tribhuvan Sahakari University must not only teach cooperative accounting but also embed principles of Dharma, transparency, and trust as a pedagogical core.
So what does this mean for the road ahead?
It means rethinking cooperative reform not just in terms of economic inclusion, but as a spiritual and cultural narrative. The Ministry must invest in storytelling that uplifts the identity of the cooperator. From field podcasts and oral histories to village-led exhibitions, we need a new narrative ecosystem, a Bharatiya communications model that sees every successful dairy union or forest collective as a sacred text in motion.
It also means building coalitions of cooperators who act as peer mentors and narrative ambassadors. The success of Amul, IFFCO, SEWA, and tribal cooperatives in Odisha and Gujarat offers replicable insights, but only if they are decoded, shared, and celebrated as part of a larger yajna. This is where communication strategists, educators, anthropologists, and grassroots leaders must collaborate.
Finally, it means allowing the sacredness of Sahakar to return. In its purest form, cooperation is not a transaction. It is a way of life. It is seva. It is yajna. And if India can embrace this spirit, in its cooperatives, its ministries, and its rural universities, then Sahakar Se Samriddhi will not be a slogan. It will be a spiritual, economic, and cultural renaissance.
And it will belong not just to those who govern, but to every Indian who offers something into the sacred fire of collective well-being.
(Komal Gupta is a policy strategist, economist, and certified Independent Director. She is the Founder of Konsult Komal, a consulting practice focused on public policy, institutional strategy, and cooperative sector transformation).
