PVK’s book review of ‘The Great Escape: The Great Escape: A True Story of Forced Labor and Immigrant Dreams in America’ (2023) by Saket Soni.
Saket Soni’s ‘The Great Escape’ is an extraordinary book and will come to be seen as a work that shines a torch on some of the ugliest aspects of contemporary life, those that hide in plain sight in the underbelly of modern consumerist society. But it also holds out hope that the Davids of the world can still take on the most formidable of Goliaths, the greed and ruthlessness of private enterprise that is supported by the laws and systems put in place by two of the most powerful governments in the world, that of the USA and India. It is both inspiring and frightening at the same time. It inspires because it includes the tale of a successful Gandhian hunger strike in the unlikeliest place for a satyagraha – before the White House in Washington DC. The fast was undertaken by an equally unlikely a set of people – unglamorous, Indian workers. The men, led by a resourceful and committed labour activist, Saket Soni, get the establishment to see them not as parasites begging for a piece of the cake in big, beautiful America, but as workers with dignity and talent who were the unwitting victims of an international racket. The story is frightening because of the damage that was inflicted on the men and their families. There is also the chilling prospect that the greedocracy of businessmen and management experts that runs much of the world will be at it again. After all this is one of the oldest tricks in the book, the exploitation of the weak by the powerful, the modern avatar of an old scourge, slave labour.
This is the story in brief. Following Hurricane Katrina and the devastation of New Orleans, there is an acute shortage of skilled labour in parts of the USA. Welders and pipe-fitters are needed by a booming oil industry. A US conglomerate Signal International and its Indian partner look for ways to fill this gap. In India, they advertise for jobs in the USA, promising decent wages, good conditions and salary and green cards for those who join. Money is collected upfront from the applicants, illegally as it turns out. Assets are sold and loans availed of by the workers, under crippling conditions, so that their American dream will come true. In the States, following months of working and living under appalling conditions, the men revolt. They march to Washington and stage a hunger strike in front of the White House. Entities like the Department of Justice and the FBI, which should have helped them, appear indifferent. The Immigration and Customs Enforcement or ICE, formed to fight terrorism, controlled by conservative officials of the Bush era, hound the men and file charges that could lead to long prison sentences. The victims are made out to be criminals. Finally, Obama era officials, with help from people like Chuck Schumer, the famous US Democratic leader from New York, issue new visas and the nightmare comes to an end.
Every aspect of this epic is worth lingering on. But let’s focus on a few.
The men came from different parts of India but shared many things, apart from exceptional skills as welders. They had networks of family and community that were always willing to help. Faith, astrological predictions, omens, dreams, visions, the terror loan-sharks back home infused cynical calculations of the dog-eat-dog variety; everything played a part in keeping the men motivated through their long ordeal. For instance, Paul Konar, one of the strikers, who went 22 days without food before the White House, was sustained by the thought that three of his siblings, named, yes, Christi, Crucifix and Virgin Mary, were among a hundred nuns praying for the men in Pala near Kottayam. Churches and church-groups, with their roots in Kerala but spread across the Malayali diaspora abroad, help stitch together a community and sustain them with help of every kind.
The initial shock of the workers, on finding themselves in prison-like conditions of both stay and work, is endured for the sake of the carrot dangling in front – a green card. Filthy and unhealthy conditions, inedible food and inadequate diets, constant disease and forced loneliness are all suffered. In some camps 24 men stay in space meant for four. Twice a week, they get some relief; a supervised trip to Wal-Mart and permission to go to church on Sundays. Here, as the men chatter in Malayalam or Tamil, plans are made, messages passed and relationships, crucial in a long struggle, forged.
Saket Soni was from the Delhi elite, an English literature student from St Stephen’s College, and had gone to the States to pursue a course in theatre. He had emerged not as a playwright or a postmodern intellectual spouting jargon, but a labour activist, with his sensitivity and empathy sharpened and expanded by a meaningful course in the humanities at Chicago. For little reward, he worked among the deprived and the exploited, mostly black and coloured immigrants, clueless about living in the States and perfect prey for predatory labour contractors. By the time he and the Indian welders came into contact, he already had a network of connections. They included civil rights groups and organizations of volunteers. Sound legal advice and money were vital for the cause. Soni, with his flair for networking, managed to link with many institutions and people in America, the idealists and non-cynics who still fight ethical causes and who inspire so much of good causes around the world. Without their help and his commitment, the struggle may have ended very differently.
Soni is focussed on the pragmatic and the doable. What legal avenues can he explore, what do the men and he need to know to succeed in their efforts? As he makes contacts and listens to the workers and fellow activists, he also pours over law books and case histories, never missing what a footnote or sub clause might reveal. He shares meals with his new friends and travels to India to meet their relatives. His energy and commitment are among the factors that keep this three-year long struggle on course.
What is even more astonishing is how he recognises and records the changes in the workers themselves. The men educate themselves and achieve a fine and sophisticated understanding of their legal situation and the nature of the monster they have to fight. They understand America and the American system. And, while cynical of the Indian government’s gestures of help, they pin their hope on American institutions. They do everything possible to nudge the system. That perhaps in a greater tribute to democracy and the rule of law that America is said to set such store by. How the men shift, perhaps unknown to themselves, into having a more modern and secular view of the world and its workings is one of the subtle changes Soni records. Americans may be deeply religious, but the law and rules and the institutions of the US State are still unerringly secular. The Indian workers may not have worked that out intellectually, but they grasped that fact and adapted brilliantly. That was perhaps the key to their success.
There is much pain and misery before the end. Relationships cannot endure the strain, friendships are wrecked and uncontrollable circumstances claim its victims. The spit of suspicion and cynicism are directed, not always at the vile and the greedy, but also at the good hearted and the helpful. But as the curtain descends on a great story one marvels at human resilience and generosity as often as one recoils at the human capacity for mendacity and cruelty.
Soni is a brilliant, indeed great, story teller. He only has to lay out the facts and sketch the characters and the book takes on a life of its own. He inserts his own story into the main plot. It works very well because it blends in with the larger story of dislocation and pain, of migration and exile, of belonging and homelessness and of a search for meaning and truth and justice in a world that is far from perfect.
Indeed, this might be one of the great tales of migration that this age will produce. It brings to mind the novels of Abraham Varghese, whose versions of the Kerala-migrant-to-America story define the genre. But Soni does little navel-gazing, unlike the celebrated novelist. He is not, like the famous Abe Varghese, narcissistic or self-absorbed. His deep compassion and generosity inform a work that is about community and meaning as much as it is about love and work; the two things, a bearded prophet once said, that should define life.
Let this end with some mild but deserved hyperbole.
Saket Soni’s ‘The Great Escape’ combines the range, power and humanity of Isabel Wilkerson’s ‘The Warmth of Other Suns’ (2010) with the meticulous plotting and careful narration of a John Irving novel like ‘The World According to Garp’ (1978). But unlike these bestsellers, this work will win the respect of professional academics and other serious readers. For, at the core of ‘The Great Escape’ is a story that has the gravity to pull in any reader with a heart and a head.
P. Vijaya Kumar
‘The Great Escape: A True Story of Forced Labor and Immigrant Dreams in America’ by Saket Soni is published by Algonquin Books, New York.
P. Vijaya Kumar / PVK
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Thank you. Nandri. Namaskaram.
PVK 06/June/2026
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