cogitoergosum
2011-01-10 19:22:40 UTC
Everything you always wanted to know about India and more
India’s Superpower Euphoria CXCI
http://cogitoergosum.co.cc/2011/01/10/indias-superpower-euphoria-cxci/
10 01 11 Written by navanavonmilita
India Together: Adivasis
Un-shining India
The struggle in Kashipur against mining in sacred adivasi lands is
just one example of an India we cannot forget, says Kalpana Sharma.
Economic progress comes at a cost. But we can still ask whether the
cost has to be borne by people who will never see the benefits of such
progress.
December 2004 – Why do we feel a sense of relief when the year comes
to an end and celebrate the dawn of the New Year? Surely when the year
has been good, you should feel sad that it has ended. And perhaps
apprehensive that the year to come will not be so good. Whatever our
feelings, the close of the year makes at least some people pause and
think about the year that is about to end, about its highs and its
lows.
2004 has been a year of change for us in India, most principally
because of the change of government at the Centre. The hype around
“India Shining” has disappeared. But the India Un-shining has not yet
registered. For the first part of the year, we thought only of
politics and elections. Once that episode ended, and also government
formation, our attention shifted elsewhere. Now we have the property
battles of the wealthy, the Birlas and the Ambanis, the public
behaviour of the famous, like the recent Shahid-Kareena episode, and
the court battles of religious figures, like the murder charges
against the head of the Kanchi Mutt that dominate the news. And, of
course, the antics of the rebellious women in the out-of-power
Bharatiya Janata Party, Uma Bharati and Smriti Irani. In between all
these media preoccupations, there is not much space or time left to
report on what is happening in the other India, the one that is not
shining.
So spare a thought as the year ends to the adivasis of Kashipur in
Orissa. The State appears and disappears from the news. It appears
when there is tragedy, flood, drought, cyclone. It disappears when no
such natural or man-made calamity kills and maims hundreds of
thousands. The fact that regardless of major tragedies, there are
minor disasters occurring almost every day in Orissa is not the stuff
of headline news.
Orissa is poor, but it is also incredibly rich. Beneath its luxuriant
forests, inhabited mostly by the adivasis who form 22 per cent of the
population, lies a huge store of precious minerals. Orissa has 70 per
cent of all the bauxite found in India, the sixth largest deposit in
the world. It also has 90 per cent of India’s chrome ore and nickel
and 24 per cent of its coal. Multinational mining companies have long
been making a beeline for the State mostly to invest in the mining
industry. Despite its poverty, Orissa is amongst the top 10 States to
attract Foreign Direct Investment.
Yet, if you ask an adivasi woman or man what they think about all
this, they will tell you that they are not impressed. They do not like
the idea of their sacred mountain being carved up by a mining company
to extract the mineral that lies beneath. They do not care to be
forced to leave their ancestral lands and forests to be relocated in
cement boxes that are supposed to be their new, “modern” homes, which
they are told to accept gratefully as symbols of “progress”.
From December 1 to 16, hundreds of adivasis, mainly women, have been
demonstrating against the company determined to mine bauxite in the
Kashipur block of Rayagada district. These people have fought against
the mining company for 12 years and have successfully blocked access
to Baphlimali, a sacred mountain that is the site of the mine.
“No one, I repeat no one will be allowed to stand in the way of
Orissa’s industrialisation and the people’s progress”.
- Chief Minister Naveen Patnaik
Four years ago, on December 16, three young men were killed in police
firing when hundreds gathered to oppose the project. Four years later,
the mine remains a lure for multinationals. Despite the withdrawal of
the Norwegian company Norsk Hydro, Canadian multinational Alcan
remains in this joint venture with Indal as part of the Rs. 4,000
crore Utkal Alumina International Limited (UAIL). The people however
continue to oppose the project while the government is determined to
push it through. “No one, I repeat no one will be allowed to stand in
the way of Orissa’s industrialisation and the people’s progress”, the
Orissa Chief Minister Naveen Patnaik told an Oriya TV news channel on
December 4.
And to prove his point, the police lathi-charged a peaceful gathering
of adivasis protesting against the project and marking the anniversary
of the police firing of 2000. Sixteen people including three women
were injured. Such news has become so commonplace that it failed to
make the national news although one hopes that at least the local
papers in Orissa reported it. I looked in vain in a number of
newspapers, including one that circulates in the east, and found not
even one paragraph on this protest.
The struggle in Kashipur is just one example of India Un-shining, an
India we cannot forget. Economic progress comes at a cost. But we can
still ask whether the cost has to be borne by people who will never
see the benefits. Displacement for the adivasis of Kashipur will mean,
inevitably, them joining the ranks of the urban poor. And as we know
in Mumbai, there is no welcome awaiting them in our cities. On the
contrary, they have been labelled “outsiders”. Even if they manage to
find a spot to live and some work, they will soon face demolition and
displacement, not unlike what they are fighting against in Kashipur.
Can one blame them if they prefer to stay where they are and fight it
out?
As the year ends, we can certainly celebrate the progress India has
made, the recognition it is getting for some of its skills.
We can also applaud a government that is moving in the direction of
recognising the rights of the poor to work and of women to an equal
inheritance. Yet, we cannot forget that large parts of India still lag
behind in basic social indicators such as education and health, that
the male-female sex ratio is a scandal, that violence against women
continues unabated, and that the disempowered, like the adivasis of
Kashipur, continue to fight an unequal battle for their rights. ⊕
Kalpana Sharma
December 2004
Kalpana Sharma is Chief of the Mumbai Bureau and Deputy Editor with
The Hindu, and a regular contributor to India Together. Her opinions,
which appear in a regular column with The Hindu, are concurrently
published on India Together with permission.
Do reservations work?
A number of researchers in economics have started to look closely at
political reservations. In one recent instance, Professor Rohini Pande
of Yale University has found that reservations in state legislatures
do increase influence in policy-making for scheduled castes and
tribes. Tarun Jain reports.
15 April 2005 – In an editorial last year, India Together argued in
favour of reservations for lower castes. In their piece, Ashwin Mahesh
and Subramaniam Vincent commented on the reasons we have reservations.
Affirmative action policies they argued not only directly benefit
lower castes through higher incomes, but have a larger impact on
public policies when individuals from lower castes are given a voice
in the decision making process. Other commentators on these pages have
followed a similar line of reasoning. For instance, when advocating
for reservation of Parliament seats for women, Kalpana Sharma writes
that “there is a greater chance of mainstreaming women’s concerns if
there are more women in positions of power from where these concerns
can be addressed.”
“Are reservations working?” ask Mahesh and Vincent, who say that the
impact of reservations on public policy would be most visible in
legislatures and panchayats. Despite their arguments, none of these
writers are able to provide any evidence that the legislators, once
elected, actually behave in ways expected of them. The complexity of
the political system means that there are a number of ways in which
legislators get impeded in their work. The legal scholar Upendra Baxi
argues that SC and ST legislators need to appeal both to upper-caste
constituents in reserved jurisdictions and to the primarily upper-
caste membership of their parties. Also, the dynamics of political
parties and bargaining within legislatures can dull activism of
individual legislators in favour of their communities. Or MLAs and MPs
might simply concentrate on increasing their own wealth and not care
about their constituents at all. Kalpana Sharma, perhaps thinking
about the behaviour of Indira Gandhi, Mayawati, Rabri, and other women
in power, writes that “there is no guarantee that [women’s
reservation] in itself will make a difference to the status of women
in the country.” These are prescient words, for casual empirics do not
explain what has been the actual result of political reservations in
India.
When casual empirics fail, perhaps it is time for a more rigorous
approach. A number of researchers in economics have started to look
closely at political reservations, both for lower castes and tribes
and for women in India. In an important paper published in the
American Economic Review in 2003, Professor Rohini Pande of Yale
University asked if reservations in state legislatures increased
influence in policy-making for scheduled castes and tribes. She
concluded that they did, and backed up this assertion by presented
evidence of targeted redistribution policies passed by SC and ST
legislators.
Legal identification of Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes
Selection criteria for scheduled castes
1. Cannot be served by clean Brahmans
2. Cannot be served by the barbers, water-carriers, tailors, etc. who
serve the caste Hindus
3. Pollutes a high-caste Hindu by contact or by proximity
4. Is one from whose hands a caste Hindu cannot take water
5. Is debarred from using public amenities such as roads, ferries,
wells, or schools
6. Will not be treated as an equal by high-caste men of the same
educational qualification in ordinary social intercourse
7. Is depressed on account of the occupation followed and, but for
that, occupation would be subject to no social disability
Selection criteria for scheduled tribes
1. Tribal origin
2. Primitive ways of life and habitation in remote and less accessible
areas
3. General backwardness in all respects
Source: Constitution of India
For her analysis, Pande exploits a particular feature of the Indian
representative set-up. Each state legislature has seats reserved for
SC and ST candidates, but the proportion of seats varies by state.
There are more seats for states with higher proportion of SC and ST
population, and vice versa. Also, between 1950 and 1980, the seat
allocations kept changing as new data from the census became
available. So these variations allow Pande to compare the policies in
states with higher SC and ST representation to those with lower SC and
ST reservation.
Increasing SC reservation does not have a significant impact on
general spending policies such as total spending, spending on
education or land reforms. However, it has a significant impact on
targeted spending policies. • Women’s representation
• The merit of reservations
• Caste: Don’t ask, don’t tell
Pande’s results show that reservations impact different groups
differently, depending on the policy. Increasing SC reservation does
not have a significant impact on general spending policies such as
total spending, spending on education or land reforms. However, it has
a significant impact on targeted spending policies. Increasing
reservations by 1% increases job quotas for SCs by 0.6%, but does not
affect spending on SC welfare schemes. This split between general and
targeted policies sits well with the social structure of these groups.
Compared to STs, SCs are well educated but geographically distributed,
so they rely on individual specific schemes such as job quotas. An SC
legislator who advocates group-specific policies cannot be sure that
they will actually be used by the community that she or he wants to
target.
In contrast, ST reservations have an impact on a broader range of
spending policies. Increasing ST reservation by 1% decreases spending
on education by 0.4%, but increases spending on tribal welfare schemes
by 0.8%. Again, this matches what we know about tribal communities in
India. They are remote from the major population centres yet live
cohesively. So they are able to take advantage of and prefer group-
specific programs over individual-specific ones.
Pande’s research is one of the first threads in an emerging literature
on the behaviour of elected representatives in office. In 2004,
Professors Raghabendra Chattopadhyay of IIM Calcutta and Esther Duflo
of MIT published their research on the impact of reservations for
women in panchayats, specifically looking at Rajasthan and West
Bengal. Their analysis pointed to important differences in policies
enacted by panchayats headed by women and men, debunking the myth that
women sarpanches are puppets controlled by men. Even in panchayats
with “unassertive” women as sarpanches, the presence of a woman in a
position of authority often inspired other women in the Gram Sabha to
speak up, changing the dynamic of village policy making.
In another 2004 study, Professors Tim Besley, Rohini Pande, Lupin
Rahman and Vijayendra Rao found that if the Sarpanch position is
reserved for person from a Scheduled Caste or Tribe, then SC or ST
households are 7% more likely to have access to a toilet, an
electricity connection, or a private water connection via a government
scheme.
Among economists, the debate on the merits of reservations is just
beginning. The precise relationship between political power and policy
implementation is still not clear. And there are a number of
unresolved issues for everyone involved.
For political parties, there is a concern how political reservation
would change the people being elected to Vidhan Sabhas, and the
ideologies and policies they would back. Could this change be
significant enough to change the top leadership of the party and
government? If the change is perceived as minor enough, perhaps
existing legislators could be convinced to vote in favour of more
reservation, which includes women.
Finally, voters themselves must be concerned with reservation. How
does their involvement in the political process change as a result?
Does voter turnout increase or decrease when only certain kinds of
candidates can stand for elections? And how can voters signal
political support for or in opposition to reservation? Answering these
questions is a collaborative exercise. Social scientists bring their
best tools to understand what society is saying, but first the people
must themselves debate and decide their preferences. Hopefully the
results of reservations in the past will inform both the debate and
the decision. ⊕
Tarun Jain
15 Apr 2005
Tarun Jain is a Ph.D student at the University of Virginia,
Charlottesville.
References
1. Pande, Rohini (2003) “Can Mandated Political Representation Provide
Disadvantaged Minorities Policy Influence? Theory and Evidence from
India” American Economic Review, Vol. 93 (4), pp. 1132-1151.
2. Chattopadhyay, Raghabendra and Esther Duflo (2004) “Women as Policy
Makers: Evidence from a Randomized Policy Experiment in India,”
Econometrica 72 (5), pp. 1409-1443.
3. Besley, Timothy, Rohini Pande, Lupin Rahman and Vijayendra Rao
(2004) “The Politics of Public Good Provision: Evidence from Indian
Local Governments” Journal of European Economic Association Papers and
Proceedings, Vol. 2, 2/3, pp. 416-426.
4 years old, miles to go
Tribals constitute 32 per cent of Chhatisgarh’s population. Yet, four
years after the state was born, the status of the tribal population
does not seem to be improving. At a recent meeting in the state, a
network of journalists and activists took stock of the situation.
Surekha Sule reports.
01 May 2005 – Like an aspirant young couple separated from the joint
family, citizens of four year old Chhatisgarh too dream of an ideal
home carved out of the larger state of Madhya Pradesh. Seventy five
Chhatisgarhis (calling themselves ’36garhi’) gave vent to their
feelings at a “Dream Chhatisgarh Meeting”. They met in the forests of
Barnavapara in Mahasamunda district during April 7-9. I attended this
meeting. The participants are part of a larger e-group on the internet
called Chhatisgarh-net.
Dream they did, but with feet firmly on the ground reality. This
reality continues to be as summed up in following verses by the well
known Hindi poet and novelist, Vinod Kumar Shukla.
A lone tribal girl
is not scared of dense forest.
But she is scared to go to
Geedam’s market to sell
Mahua flowers.
It’s a market day!
With basketful of Mahua
on the head or the shoulder
these simple tribal(girl)s walk down
the hill & gather near a tree
to go ‘together’ to the market!
A discussion session is on at the meeting. Pic: Aman Namra.
The reality still includes many custodial deaths too. Goldie George of
Dalit Mukti Morcha told me about a boy who was caught by the police.
His crime was that he was carrying a few sticks collected from the
jungle. The authorities charged him with ‘stealing forest resources’!
The boy was detained by the police and beaten up. For his release,
George reports that police asked the parents to cough up a ‘ransom’.
They could not afford it, so the boy was beaten up till he died.
Another case is of the journalist Akshay Thakur who brings out from
Rajnandgaon, a local Hindi newspaper which criticizes the
establishment and gives voice to the downtrodden. He was implicated in
a fabricated case of printing naxal handouts to instigate tribals.
After 23 months in jail along with his five other journalist
colleagues, he was lucky to win the case and all were released. But no
such luck for over 2000-3000 similar false cases against poor tribals
and dalits charging them as naxalites. Their crime! They raise their
voices against the corrupt police or greedy jungle contractors.
For ages, tribal people and forests have complemented each other in
India. Tribals have taken as much as they need from the jungle and
given back, perhaps in a way that no economic theory has ever looked
at. For generations tribals in the Chhatisgarh region have lived on
collecting forest produce like Mahua, Tendu leaves, variety of tree
bark & resin and so on. But markets started intervening and the tribal-
jungle relationship as well as trade changed. With the entry of agents
and intermediaries began the never-ending saga of exploitation of
tribals followed by repression.
“Tomorrow, if a foreign company claims rights over a research of a
variety, a mere search on Google will produce my article exposing
their IPR claim,” says Pankaj Oudhia of Botanical.com. • Chhatisgarh
media : new and old
• Chhatisgarh rice bowl loss
Suddenly the new forest law tells them that such collection is illegal
and asks them to produce evidence of their right to live on their
land. A forest guard took some 107 adivasis’ thumb impression saying
their 300 acre land is being regularized but actually the land was
given to develop a nursery. Such incidences of outright cheating of
tribals are rampant. And these all were the very reasons for naxal
uprising which is strongest in Bastar. It is not for no reason that
the tribals resist forest and police departments who they feel are
filled with are outsiders, exploiting them.
Tribals constitute 32 per cent of Chhatisgarh’s population. Yet, four
years after the state was born, the status of the tribal population
does not seem to be improving. At the meeting, participants began from
how and why Chhatisgarh was created, how the Chhatisgarh-net e-group
was mooted by its coordinator and former BBC journalist Shubhranshu
Chowdhury and went to discuss a variety of issues related to
agriculture, water, tribal & forest, naxalites, dalits, industry &
power, mining, social development and the media situation.
Chhatisgarh was carved out of a part of Central India inhabited for
centuries by tribals – and rich in natural resources. The region is
famous for its biodiversity — rice varieties and medicinal herbs. One
of the early controversies was over rice varieties. 20000 indigenous
varieties of rice seeds had been painstakingly collected by the famous
rice researcher, the late Dr. Richaria. Richaria had documented each
rice seed variety in minute detail from the tribal farmers. There was
an outcry on the suspicion that top scientists from Chhatisgarh’s
Indira Gandhi Krishi Vidyalaya (IGKV) were going to sell this
information to agribusiness multinational Syngenta. The fear was the
traditional knowledge of Chhatisgarh’s farmers would loose out to
private intellectual property rights.
Dr Richaria’s collection of rice germ plasm has not been put into
public domain despite public opinion and media outcry. This worries
activists and vigilant Chhatisgarhis who would like to take action to
prevent private interests from accessing these seeds. But
establishment secrecy on the goings-on is the dilemma of the 36garhis.
How to fight an unseen enemy? 36garh e-group member Jacob Nellithanam
is an activist and expert on rice farming in Chhatisgarh. He appealed
for the formation of pressure groups to save the situation in the
state where 80 per cent of cultivable land is under rice and 90 per
cent population depends on the agriculture.
Sensing similar danger from another private firm to the traditional
knowledge of Chhatisgarh’ s simple, poor and illiterate people, Pankaj
Oudhia – an e-36garh group member and renowned agronomist – has taken
upon himself a mammoth mission. He is single-handedly documenting
Chhatisgarh’s varieties of medicinal herbs numbering over a lakh,
talking to the local people who know about these varieties, their
characteristics and their usefulness.
Over last four years, Oudhia has uploaded about 12000 such
documentation on www.botanical.com and to meet his objective of 1 lakh
such documents going on to the public domain in his life time, Oudhia
goes on at an astonishing speed of three such documentation a day plus
one or two articles for Hindi media for mass circulation. “Tomorrow,
if a foreign company claims rights over a research of a variety, a
mere search on Google will produce my article exposing their IPR
claim,” says Oudhia.
Adivasis performing a traditional dance at the meeting. Pic: Aman
Namra.
There is also the famous case of a stretch of Shivnath river in
Chhatisgarh given to a private company. This was first documented by
e-36garh member Arun Singh. In Raigarh district, three rivers were to
be similarly ‘privatised’, but the government did not go forward
because resistance from the people. The Shivnath issue is in the
Courts and is subjudice. Farmers took loans to dig bore wells but
private firms dug deeper rendering 15-20 villages without water.
Farmers now fear that hundreds of villages will run out of water.
Industries digging deeper and taking away water are also causing
pollution in the region. The pollution is taking its toll reflecting
on 30 per cent less of Mahua flower produce – a main livelihood source
of the tribals.
The making of the Chhatisgarh state actually never had tribal issue as
the central issue and unlike Uttaranchal and Jharkhand, Chhatisgarh
was not born out of people’s agitation demanding separate statehood.
It came much easily and because of political compulsions. Tribal
welfare was a suitable guise for fulfilling political aspirations. The
non-tribal view is that the tribal should retain their independent
identity. Hence on the topic of tribal welfare and development, the
talk veers away towards meaningless issues like searching for
alternate systems for the tribals, instead of the real issues related
to the lacuna in the mainstream system, says an e-36garh member, Sudip
Thakur, a Delhi based journalist.
Thakur raised pertinent questions like whether just making a separate
state amounted to giving control in the hands of tribals, or whether
the administration was going to truly take cognizance of tribal
problems. What is the role of the tribals in the development of this
state which is so rich in natural resources? Is it not high time to
change our scientific understanding taking into account the reality
about tribals? Otherwise how long are you going to make them dance in
their traditional attire in the Republic Day Parade, quips Thakur.
The failure tribal politicians elected through reservations to get
justice for their people must be seen together with the fact that
naxalite rule is now strong in Bastar and Rajnandgaon of Chhatisgarh.
Thakur says that whatever the outcome of debate on jungle-tribal
relationship, they will never get justice unless they get greater
partnership in political power. Though there is reservation in
assembly and parliament, this very provision is used as a strong
political weapon. Even when some adivasis have gotten politically
powerful, they have been sucked into the system and have not done
justice to their brethren. The naxalite rule strongly in Bastar and
Rajnandgaon of Chhatisgarh and make their land immune to outside
influence. But in areas where no outsider can dare to enter, e-36garh
member Ruchir Garg – editor of Deshbandhu – a local paper — went in
several times to study their life and working style.
The knowledge and experience rich e-36garh members communicate online
everyday and spread the news and views on Chhatisgarh. Alok Putul –
resident editor of Deshbandhu, Aman Namra – editor of Charkha and
Shubhranshu Chowdhury send daily updates. The medium is evolving into
an effective alternate digital media that has potential to act as
pressure group and a watchdog. Media outside Chhatisgarh could use the
postings on this group to know more about this little, new state. The
group has plans to launch a website as well.
* * *
Chattisgarh-net is an internet e-group. Archives of messages and
discussions are public. At the time of writing this report, the list
had 324 members. Groups.yahoo.com/group/chhattisgarh-net. ⊕
Surekha Sule
01 May 2005
Surekha Sule is a freelance journalist and an environmentalist based
in Mumbai, and a Media Fellow of the Ministry of Water Resources of
the Government of India. The Chhatisgarh-net group had invited her to
the April’05 meeting.
Nomads together
A National Convention of Nomads and Adivasis was organized last month
in Delhi. This was perhaps one of the first attempts to give a unified
political voice for Adivasi and Nomadic communities in India. G. N.
Devy writes on the efforts to make this convention happen, and its
import.
23 May 2005 – Nomadic communities, wrongly notified during the
colonial times as ‘criminal communities’, found the earliest
expression of their agony in the report of a reform committee headed
by Antrolikar on the eve of India’s independence. But the issue had to
wait for a voice till Marathi writers like Laxman Mane and Laxman
Gaikwad came up with their life-stories in the early eighties. These
writings were initially seen as ‘experimental dalit writing’ by
readers of Marathi literature. Nomadic communities in the states
outside Maharashtra did not find similar spokespersons.
My attention was drawn to the enormous scale of the problem – there
are nearly six crores of denotified and nomadic ‘citizens’ in India!
And when, together, we founded the Denotified and Nomadic Communities
Rights Action Group in 1998, I found to my utter surprise and dismay
that even the most enlightened of the progressive sections of Indian
society had barely been aware of the plight of India’s nomads.
Invariably one had seen the Banjaras and heard of the Pardhis, but one
was not aware that these had been victims of a hugely discriminatory
law, the Criminal Tribes Act, subsequently replaced by the Habitual
Offenders Act. Therefore, bringing the denotified and the nomads of
India together was not an easy task.
I was convinced from the beginning of the struggle that the denotified
and the nomads have to make common cause with other tribal communities
from the adivasi groups and the pastoralist communities such as the
Bharwads and the Dhangars in order to be effective in even a small
measure, and mainly because numbers matter in democracies with a weak
fabric of social justice holding it together. But, bringing the
nomadic, pastoralist and adivasi communities together has not been an
enviable matter. One imagines, in a theoretically loaded discussion
room, that being marginalised the communities would be all ripe and
ready to fall within a single basket of a marginalised class; but the
differences between them are quite stupendous.
The denotified communities have been asking for a Third Schedule, and
think of the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes as far more
fortunate. Adivasis have, even in a small measure, an acre or two of
their own, even when its legal title has been a matter of dispute
between the Forest Department and the Revenue Department. Adivasis
have a profound equation with the land of their habitation going back
to times beyond one’s memory; the nomads have neither the land nor the
relationship of any lasting nature. The nomadic world-view is unique.
The pastoralists have a completely different set of issues surrounding
their lives. They have a large movable property in their cows and
sheep, but the grazing land traditionally available to them has been
rapidly shrinking. These are relatively prosperous communities forced
in our time to shift their occupations. Jal, jungle, jhamin are the
central concerns for the adivasis, livelihood and food security,
social respect and legal protection are the crucial issues with
denotified and nomadic communities, and respect for non-sedentary
cultures is the main preoccupation with the pastoralists.
I tried to bring them together several times during the last decade,
and met with failure every time I made the attempt. Twice, in Delhi,
we had meetings of representatives of these three sections, once at
the India International Centre, with speakers such as Ashis Nandy and
Justice M N Venkatachaliah, and another time at the Constitution Club
with Mahashweta Devi herself to guide our footsteps. These meetings
progressed well till the concluding sessions; yet, in the conclusion
differences took over similarities. The common cause theory failed
disastrously.
Therefore, before making yet another attempt, my colleagues in Bhasha
and I had long consultations, lasting almost over a year, and decided
that we would approach the matter more through cultural practices than
through political aspirations of the communities. However, we felt
that a mere cultural mela would amount to a cruel travesty of the
agony and suffering of the adivasis, nomads and pastoralists.
Therefore, we put forward the proposition that “the primary mission of
the predatory state is sedentarisation of the subject.” Nomads and
pastoralists responded to this premise very enthusiastically, and the
adivasis decided to join in on the plank of the state’s being
predatory and, therefore, self-aggrandising.
After we came up with this formulation, we had a series of discussions
with the Adivasi Ekta Parishad, which has an impressive spread in
Rajasthan, Madhya Pradesh, Maharashtra and Gujarat, and the newly
formed DNT network under the title Lokdhara, which has started
energising the DNTs in Maharashtra. My own Bhasha Centre contacted
adivasis in the north-east, Orissa, Assam, Chhattisgarh and Jharkhand,
as well as my colleagues in the now ceased DNT-rights action group.
They responded promptly. Besides, of the hundred and forty NGOs
working with tribals who had come to Tejgadh last November for the
Tribal Policy Conference, were contacted. In about eight weeks of
campaigning, we found that about two thousand individuals were
prepared to participate in a convention, should such a convention be
held. When we approached Dr. Kalyan Kumar Chakravarty of Indira Gandhi
National Centre for the Arts in Delhi, he more than welcomed the idea
of so many numerous communities coming together at the IGNCA campus
with their dances, theatre, musical instruments, life-styles,
traditional knowledge, medicinal systems, and so on. This is how the
first ever National Convention of Nomads and Adivasis was organised at
the IGNCA from 21 to 24 April this year.
We put forward the proposition that “the primary mission of the
predatory state is sedentarisation of the subject.” Nomads and
pastoralists responded to this premise very enthusiastically
The format of the Convention provided space for every participant to
express herself or himself. The mornings and afternoons were devoted
to discussions on resources, rights, cultural identities, legal and
social justice, constitutional and human rights, and gender equality.
The early hours of evenings were given to special lectures in which
practically every major tribal/nomadic activist was present; and the
evenings were left open for cultural expression of every manner.
Delhi, and India, had never before seen Medha Patkar, B. D. Sharma,
Pradip Prabhu, Ashok Choudhary, Balkrishna Renke, Ram Guha, Ramanika
Gupta, and Justice M N Venkatachaliah come together on a common
platform. I wish I had been able to get there C. K. Janu, Kishore Sant
and Ram Dayal Munda, who were not there for logistical reasons. Even
Gadar had given his consent, and Mahashweta Devi had sent a special
message for the Convention from her hospital bed in Kolkata.
The desire to come together was clearly the dominant note in the
Convention. But, as expected, the drive for unity was sustained by the
amazing show of cultural diversity seen in the dances, theatre,
acrobatics, music, rituals and everything that was put on that
remarkable and magnificent display by the adivasis and nomads of
India. In terms of documented materials alone, the IGNCA had gathered
a pile of about three hundred hours of cultural and social
documentation.
The numbers need to be understood in their proper context. When an
adivasi or a nomad travels to Delhi from his or her village or basti,
the expenses involved sometimes cross the ability of that person to
earn over a period of several months. Their days in a conference such
as this one count back home as days of no-income. It is at a great
personal cost that such delegates participate in such conferences. To
have fifteen hundred delegates for the Convention, therefore,
expressed a nation-wide and deep seated desire of the adivasis, nomads
and pastoralists to be seen as belonging together where their cultural
identities are not threatened, where they can express themselves
without being intimidated into a ‘single’ class as ‘subjects’
victimised by the predatory state whose mission of sedentarisation has
marginalised the resource base of these communities.
Nomads together with adivasis in Delhi’s Convention in April, have, in
my opinion, spelt out the beginning of a new chapter in the history of
social struggles in India.
Ganesh Devy
23 May 2005
Dr. Ganesh N. Devy is founder trustee of Bhasha Research and
Publication Center in Baroda.
Remote adivasis face health care chasm
Despite crores of rupees having been spent in name of tribal and other
development programmes in one block of Palakkad district in Kerala,
the region suffers from poor access to decent health care. 80 per cent
of the adivasi population here are living in abject poverty. M
Suchitra reports.
25 July 2005 – The afternoon is hot. Pappa sits in the shade of a tree
in front of her mud-thatched hut holding her baby close to her bosom.
The child is groaning with high fever. Pappa is only thirty years, but
looks much older. Thin with a pale face and tired eyes, she is an
agricultural labourer, earning Rs 40-50 per day. She has five
children.
Ill and impoverished. A tribal mother and her child, Sholayur
panchayat. Pic: T Mohandas.
All the five times, Pappa delivered her baby at home. She worked until
her labour pain reached its peak. When she felt that it was about time
for the baby to come out she would stop work, get into the hut and
squat in the dark dingy room. Then the expectant mother would hold on
to the knotted rope that was hung from the ceiling for strength. Pappa
delivered all her babies squatting. There had never been any one to
attend to her during delivery. Each time, she cut the umbilical cord
herself, bathed the baby herself and buried the afterbirth herself.
“To stop the bleeding from the umbilical cord all you have to do is to
pour some kerosene oil on it and then put some dough on it. If that
isn’t enough, you can also put some talcum powder,” the mother of five
says with all the assurance of a doctor. Asked why not go to a
hospital for delivery, Pappa answers with another query. “Why should
anyone go to hospital for delivery? They don’t do things our way. You
have to lie down to deliver your babies there!”
In April 2006, M Suchitra was named the Development Journalist of the
year at the Developing Asia Journalism awards, for this article in
India Together. Click here to see more.
This mother and her children belong to the Muduga tribe, and live in
Varagampadi Ooru (a colony) in Sholayur Gram Panchayat in Attappadi
block of Kerala’s Palakkad district. They are are lucky. The proof is
in the fact that they are alive. This is not a piece of luck that
every adivasi mother and her children living in Sholayur as well as
the other two gram panchayats — Agali and Pudur — have. It’s true that
Kerala claims to have attained a high Physical Quality of Life Index –
as high as 80 – and has maternal and infant mortality rates much lower
compared to that of other states in India. Ninety-nine percent of
deliveries are institutionalised in the state. But statistics at the
Community Health Centre at Agali, the block’s headquarters, show a
different picture.
A different story altogether
In the period between March 2003 and March 2004, there had been four
deaths in the 603 births that had taken place. When 12 children die in
every thousand births in mainstream Kerala, infant mortality including
those stillborn is 66 for Attappadi. Eighty percent of the newborn
babies are under the normal weight of 2.5 kgs. The real picture could
be worse than the one statistics reveal.
The large incidence of maternal and infant deaths are malnourishment,
and this in turn is due to poverty, inefficiency and ineffectiveness
of the health services provided by the government and the tribal
people’s inaccessibility to it. There are three government primary
health centres (PHC), one community health centre (CHC) and 27
subcentres in this 745-sq kms block. But a large number of tribal
women in this region prefer deliveries at home.
The Bethany Tribal Mission Hospital, which functions near Anakkatty
near Sholayur on the Kerala Tamilnadu border, reports 230-275 births
in a year of which adivasi women account for only ten or twelve. These
women are usually from the Irulas who could merge into the mainstream
lifestyles. The Kurumbas who have not yet emerged out of the forests
and the Mudugas who have still not adjusted to the life outside
forests hardly ever come to the hospital. In the process of
mainstreaming the tribal communities over the years, the tribe of
traditional midwives has almost died out.
The posts of gynaecologists and pediatricians remain vacant in many
hospitals. A gynaecologist who joins a government hospital is entitled
to a pay of Rs 8000 to Rs 10000. But private hospitals pay specialists
anything from Rs 25000 to Rs 30000 when they sign-up. • National meet
– nomads, adivasis
• Why their kids are dying
Even though adivasi women have the self-confidence to have their
deliveries at home, childbirth in the absence of trained midwives
often leads to tragedy. Cutting the umbilical cord with rusted knives
or razor blades, tying stones to the end of the cord so that it falls
off, tying up the cord with dirty bits of string, applying mud to stop
the bleeding, leaving the mother dirty even when the child is cleaned
up — all these happen when inexperienced women help in the delivery
process.
To make the matters worse, many of the subcentres do not have ANMs
(Auxiliary Nurse Midwife). All the subcentres are in isolated areas,
and government nurses are scared to stay at these places alone. Most
of the nurses, recruited from far away places, are hesitant to work in
this remote and backward tribal belt, and they stay away from duties
on continuous leave. The deserted sub-centres often become centres for
gambling and drinking and even for brewing illicit liquor.
The women are often unable to reach hospitals even if they want to.
They have to walk over difficult hilly terrain for eight and ten
kilometres before they can get hold of a vehicle. For adivasis who
live in hamlets like Galasi, Thudukki, Moolagangal etc., in Attappadi
block, even the community health centre at Agali is a distant world.
“The tribal women, when they reach the hospital after a complicated
delivery are very often in a critical condition,” points out Dr
Prabhudas, an Assistant Surgeon at the Primary Health Centre at Pudur.
Dr Prabhudas has been working in Attappadi for the last 20 years. “As
the facilities for attending a complicated delivery case are
inadequate in the primary health centres and community health centre,
we often refer them to a taluk hospital or district hospital.”
And to reach the Mannarghat Taluk Hospital from Agali, one has to
travel two hours by bus. The district hospital at Palakkad is further
one hour. There is nothing surprising about the fact that patients in
critical condition mostly die on the way, says Dr Prabhudas.
Even on reaching the government hospitals after a lot of effort, the
adivasi women and children are not fortunate enough to be treated by
specialists. The posts of gynaecologists and pediatricians remain
vacant in most of these hospitals. Specialist doctors prefer private
hospitals to government hospitals. A gynaecologist who joins a
government hospital is entitled to a pay of Rs 8000 to Rs 10000. But
private hospitals that charge hefty fees for abortions and caesareans
are willing to pay much more. Specialists are paid anything from Rs
25000 to Rs 30000 when they sign-up. Naturally, doctors prefer private
hospitals. Adivasi women who work as casual labourers do not have the
financial wherewithal to get treated at private hospitals.
“Earlier, at least graduate doctors used to show some interest in
being posted to such remote areas, as such services entitled them to
preference in admission to post-graduate courses. Now that the
government stopped giving preference to remote area services during
admission to post graduate courses, even graduate doctors are
reluctant to work in remote and backward places like Attappadi,” says
Dr Prabhudas.
Whether the deliveries take place at home or hospital, doctors point
out that tribal mothers are not healthy enough to deliver healthy
babies. Most pregnant women and lactating mothers hardly have enough
for two square meals a day. “Almost all of them are terribly anaemic.
Either they have sickle cell anaemia or anaemia from lack of proper
diet. Most of them suffer from protein deficiency too. It is dangerous
for a pregnant woman to have a haemoglobin count below ten. But most
pregnant adivasi women have counts of seven or eight. It even goes
down to five or six in some,” says Dr. Muralidharan, the Medical
Superintendent at the Bethany Tribal Mission Hospital. According to
him, Eclampsia (high blood pressure and seizures) is very common in
the third trimester in Attappadi’s adivasi women.
Uprooted first, and then mainstreaming fails
Their tragic tale started when the forest reached the hands of the
government and the land around it, in the hands of the settlers.
Earlier, when they lived in the forest their diet was a balanced one,
consisting of tubers and fruits and meat. And they used to cultivate
protein-and-iron-rich food like ragi, maize, pulses and chama. But
later, during the influx of settlers, tribals were forced to retreat
to the barren, parched, uncultivable hill-slops. Adivasi communities
constituted 63% of Attappadi’s population in 1961. According to the
2001 Census, the total population of Attappadi is 66,171 and Scheduled
Tribes constitute 27,121. Adivasi population has come down to 41%.
A survey report prepared as early as 1977 by a project officer at the
state’s Integrated Tribal Development Project reveals that the tribals
had then lost 14,000 hectares of fertile land to settlers, and now
27,000-strong tribal people hold just 2,000 acres of land.
A tribal family ifrom Pudur panchayat. Pic: T Mohandas.
Most of the adivasi women shoulder the responsibility of raising the
family on their own, while their men enslave themselves to liquor. The
women have no option other than going back to their wage labour within
a few days after delivery. Many of them suffer from acute and chronic
back pain.
Attappadi testifies how a mainstream development process could deeply
shatter an erstwhile self-sustained community. It is the first block
in Kerala where the Integrated Tribal Development Project (ITDP) was
initiated by the state government. It had been declared an ITDP block
in 1970 after the State Planning Board assessed it as the most
backward block in the state. Ever since, the state government
implemented a good number of special projects — Attappadi Co-operative
Farming Society, the Western Ghats Development Programme, the
Attappadi Valley Irrigation Programme — for the development of the
block, and many other poverty alleviation programmes under the ITDP
and Integrated Rural Development Project.
According to the State Planning Board, during the Ninth Five Year Plan
(1997-2002) Rs 13.28 crores have been spent in this block alone. Out
of this amount 20% was spent in the health sector. A Rs 219-crore eco-
restoration project (Attappadi Comprehensive Environmental
Conservation and Wasteland Development Project) aided by the Japan
government is being implanted in this area since 1996 through
Attappadi Hills Area Development Society (AHADS), a state government
agency.
Yet, the region remains a symbol of backwardness with about 80 per
cent of the tribal population living in abject poverty. None of the
projects implemented here so far has taken the peculiarities of
adivasi culture and beliefs into consideration. Even the much-hyped
People’s Planning Programme implemented in the state during 1997-2002
as the Ninth Five Year Plan turned out to be a failure in Attappadi
since non-tribals constitute majority of the population, and also, due
to the illiteracy (overall literacy rate of Attappadi is 49.5 per cent
in sharp contrast with the totally-literate mainstream Kerala) and
lack of political and administrative awareness of the adivasis.
State’s priorities change
There are stark disparities in the healthcare services available to
remote tribal regions compared to other parts of the state. Also, as
Dr B Ekbal, national convenor of the Jan Swasthya Abhiyan (People’s
Health Movement) points out, there has been a definite decline in the
public health care system in the state since the 1980s. Starting from
the 1980s there was an overall drop in the rate of growth in
government health expenditure due to a fiscal crisis. This was
accentuated after 1991 as a result of economic liberalisation
policies.
In a study of the impact of macroeconomic adjustment policies on
access to healthcare, Dr D Narayana of the Centre for Development
Studies, Thiruvananthapuram, notes that between 1981-82 and 1997-98,
the state’s expenditure on medical and public health services, as a
proportion of total expenditure, declined from 9.62% to 6.98%. Capital
expenditure on medical and public health services, as a percentage of
total capital expenditure, plunged from 9.61% to 1.57%.
“As a result of this rolling back of government support to healthcare,
the first major casualty has been the rural health sector,” says Dr B
Ekbal, “It’s actually the lack of political commitment that has
largely brought about a decline in the public healthcare system in
Kerala. The state doesn’t even have a health policy of its own. There
has been no proper planning at the policy level. The government is
spending more money on super speciality hospitals than focusing on the
primary health care system.”
The State Health Department takes an indifferent attitude towards the
health issues of the tribal communities. The last comprehensive survey
in Kerala on the state of health and socio-economic status of the
adivasis was carried out in 1992. Instead of seeking sustainable
solutions to the problems faced by the tribal communities as a result
of their alienation from land, forest and culture, what is being done
is the distribution of free rice and iron tablets when starvation and
anaemia become acute. When a good amount of money is being otherwise
spent on development projects through the three-tier panchayats and
the centrally-assisted welfare schemes, is providing basic healthcare
services to the tribal communities that difficult? (Quest Features &
Footage). ⊕
M Suchitra
25 Jul 2005
M Suchitra is a Kochi based journalist associated with the Quest
Features and Footage. She was named the Development Journalist of the
year at the Developing Asia Journalism Awards 2006, for this article.
For more, see awards.
The betrayal of tsunami survivors
A blinkered bureaucracy has proved to be utterly insensitive to the
Andaman and Nicobar islanders. Instead of helping them rebuild their
lives and revive self-confidence, the government is reinforcing
practices of dependence and subservience while pushing its warped
version of relief and redevelopment, writes Colin Gonsalves.
Combat Law, Vol. 4, Issue 3 – Though much has been written about the
situation in Tamilnadu and Pondicherry, the conditions of tsunami
survivors in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands is little known. Many
NGOs working in the area are collaborating with the administration and
are apprehensive about speaking out. With the arrival of the monsoons,
rehabilitation work has become slower. Many journalists covering the
Islands budget for a few days only, spend most of their time at Port
Blair, and cannot always make it to the smaller islands. The Human
Rights Lawyers Network team was on the Islands immediately after the
tsunami and has maintained a presence there to this day. This is their
report of the betrayal of the tsunami survivors.
The neglect of the people has its roots going back many decades and is
to be located in the isolation of the Islands from mainland India and
the consequent freedom given to the administration to do as they
please. Central scrutiny is minimal, few NGOs exist, the national
newspapers find it too expensive to cover the Islands in normal
circumstances and the Bar at Port Blair is not accustomed to doing
public interest petitions. All this creates a ripe situation for the
exploitation of the tribals who suffer without demur and protest
injustices done to them with amazing politeness.
Photographs by Sunil Kumar Jojo
Before the tsunami, the tribals had their own plantations, were
accustomed to fishing and had a certain sense of well being and self-
confidence. Though the balance of power between the administration and
the tribals always tilted in favour of the former, the tribals were
often determined to speak their mind and do as they please. The
tsunami changed all that. A once proud people are reduced to living in
tin sheds and on the free rations of government. They are shaken and
afraid. The administration could have responded to restore confidence
and self-esteem but did just the opposite. They reinforced practices
of dependence and subservience.
All that the people wanted in the first days after the tsunami were
tools so that they could build their houses with the timber lying
around. The government refused. Instead a hare-brained scheme for
providing tin sheds was floated at Delhi and pushed down the throats
of the tribals in the Islands. Tin sheds have been tried and have
failed everywhere. And yet in the Islands tens of thousands of these
sheets were ordered and distributed. From the cool confines of their
machaans made of wood the tribals were shifted to ovens where they
baked in the afternoon sun. These temporary structures had no flooring
and so when the rains came inside, so too did the slush.
Everywhere the tribals protested but they were scared that their
criticism of the tin sheds may be seen by the administration
negatively and may result in the withdrawal of benefits. So they
suffered the stupid mainlander. But they would ask again and again
‘give us tools’; they were ignored.
Then and now: The once proud Nicobari people living in their natural
habitat have been forced now to live in abominable conditions in
tinsheds.
That single act, the provision of good wood cutting tools would have
restored the confidence of the tribals. They would have built their
houses of wood once again. There was no need to have two phases, one
for the construction of temporary shelters and another for permanent
housing because the tribals would have merged the two phases and
expanded and consolidated the temporary shelter to convert it into
their final home. I have no doubt that had the administration done
this simple act of providing tools, all the tribals in the Islands
would have been housed within a month after the tsunami.
Instead what do we have? As long after the tsunami as May 2005, when
we visited the Islands, we found even the temporary shelters
incomplete everywhere, and the tribals leaving their homes and going
into the forest areas in the afternoons to escape the heat of the tin
sheds. And as we were leaving the monsoons first showers came in,
making the houses unliveable.
Then we learned that someone at Delhi has taken a decision to build
pre-fabricated houses, either of reinforced cement concrete or a steel
tubular structure, as permanent housing in the Andamans. The salinity
of the air will cause the RCC structures to corrode and the tubular
structures to rust. The tribals will not be able to maintain these
houses and repair them, having no skills to do so. If this dubious
plan works, the whole Andaman and Nicobar Islands will be converted
into a giant concrete slum. There are officials overanxious to push
this plan through, going from island to island and village to village
giving the people three plans to chose from: all RCC or steel but not
wood, giving the people the impression that they either accept that or
they will get nothing at all.
And then casually, almost as if by chance, we heard from the mouth of
a senior administration officer that the free rations will be
discontinued from October. There can be no greater injustice than
this. The lives of the tribals have been shattered, their communities
splintered, their livelihood destroyed, their homes washed away and,
in these circumstances, all that they have, in the name of a little
bit of security, is their free rations. They have no boats so they
cannot fish. Free grains is what they depend on to survive. What we
would like to know is: Who has taken the decision to discontinue the
provision of free grains and why are the people not being told about
this decision?
We found water shortages everywhere. People were drinking contaminated
water. Children were falling sick. Truly no one cares for the little
children. In the six months since the tsunami, apart from a few
sporadic attempts, their education came to a standstill, with the
State not bothering to supply text books and note books. Had that
elementary thing been done, the teachers in the villages would have
ensured that the students not lose any time.
Many villages were in darkness. Where the electricity lines were up
and the generators in place there was no kerosene. In some places
public transportation was at a standstill and people had to walk long
distances to reach their villages.
It is pathetic to see the manner in which the people travel from
island to island and that too in the Andamans which houses a large and
sophisticated naval base. The ships have no fixed timings. When they
sail they carry passengers many times their capacity with people
huddled on deck like cattle. The toilets are stinking and overflowing.
Sometimes for days the people wait.
Like the demand for tools we heard the demand for boats everywhere.
Like the demand for tools this was also something that would restore
self-confidence and a sense of self-worth. The people would fish. They
would travel from island to island carrying their vegetables and doing
some trade. Independence, morale and self-confidence of the tribal
people must be a priority.
Where has all the money gone? Ask an official, and he will give you a
lump sum figure. Ask another and he will give you an entirely
different sum. Why is it that the Government of India refuses to put
up on a website or publish in a newspaper the list of beneficiaries
with the amounts donated? There is strong resistance to this in the
administration. It is not the business of the NGOs to ask such
questions, we were told in a meeting. Large sums of money exist and
must be used for the purpose it was intended for. A CAG inquiry may be
of some use. But there is no excuse for a government, committed to the
Right to Information, not to disclose to the public at large details
of the money received and precise details as to how it is being spent.
The greatest justification for this is the fact that on the ground the
tribals suffer deprivation and ill health.
It is pathetic to see the manner in which the people travel from
island to island and that too in the Andamans which houses a large and
sophisticated naval base. The ships have no fixed timings. When they
sail they carry passengers many times their capacity with people
huddled on deck like cattle.
In the past two months the situation has shown some signs of
improvement. The Chief Secretary has initiated a larger process of
consultation with tribal leaders. Non-governmental organisations find
themselves better placed to engage with the administration and provide
the much needed support to affected communities. Whether the
administrations good intentions will be backed by action that improves
the conditions of the tsunami survivors is yet to be seen.
While the basic requirements of food, shelter, education and
livelihood have not been fulfilled, grand plans are afoot to convert
parts of the islands into a thriving tourist hub, with little thought
to the strain on the already fragile ecology of the battered islands.
On 24 July 2005, another offshore earthquake of magnitude 7.2 struck
the islands causing panic and the fear of another tsunami. Now more
than six months after the tsunami, the administration must quickly
move beyond workshops and start a systematic process of community
disaster drills. Communication with certain islands continues to be
erratic. The task is enormous. The efforts must be visible in the
lives of the common people without any further delay.
Colin Gonsalves
Combat Law, Volume 4, Issue 3
August-September 2005
(published 11 September 2005 in India Together)
CONSERVATION VS. TRIBAL RIGHTS
Ecology for the people
The ongoing vigorous debate between wildlife enthusiasts and tribal
rights activists must be steered by a vital lesson from past
conservation failures – that India’s unparalleled riches of
biodiversity can only be protected by working with, rather than
against, the rural and tribal communities who live closest to them,
writes Ramachandra Guha.
14 November 2005 – Early in 2005, a vigorous debate broke out within
India about the status of the country’s national animal, the tiger.
Reports began appearing in the press suggesting that there had been an
alarming drop in the animal’s numbers. In several formally notified
Project Tiger sanctuaries, such as Sariska, no tigers were spotted for
weeks on end. Anecdotal evidence from other parks – particularly those
in northern India – also confirmed the decline. This fresh
manifestation of a ‘tiger crisis’ led to the prime minister
constituting a Tiger Task Force, and, beyond this, to a wider debate
on the best means of preventing the tiger from sliding into
extinction.
As it happens, with this debate on the tiger was commenced,
simultaneously, a debate on the rights of adivasis in forest areas.
This was sparked off by a new legislation proposed by the Ministry of
Tribal Affairs, which seeks to give ‘a permanent stake to scheduled
tribes’ living in the forests. Based on the (correct) presumption that
the colonial regime had committed a ‘historic wrong’ in wresting
rights of forest ownership from the tribals, the new law wishes to
make amends, by now involving them more directly in forest use and
forest conservation.
The tribal rights bill has been vigorously opposed by wildlife
conservationists. In their view, it would only put further pressure on
the natural forests that are the last remaining redoubt of the tiger.
The prominent conservationist, Valmik Thapar, insists that “tigers
have to be saved in undisturbed, inviolate landscapes… You either
create landscapes that are undisturbed, or you don’t save tigers. As
far as I’m concerned, tigers and human beings – forest dwellers or
tribal peoples – cannot co-exist.”
“… tigers have to be saved in undisturbed, inviolate landscapes… You
either create landscapes that are undisturbed, or you don’t save
tigers. As far as I’m concerned, tigers and human beings – forest
dwellers or tribal peoples – cannot co-exist.”
- Valmik Thapar
• Understanding encroachments
• Forest fights, Indian style
• Recognition of forest rights
• “They are people too”
On the other side, anthropologists and tribal activists dismiss the
views of such conservationists as arrogant and elitist, as putting the
interests of animals above that of poor humans. Elitist these views
probably are, and very definitely unhistorical. For, in fact, tigers
and tribals have co-existed for centuries in India. True, in some
parts they now compete for survival and subsistence. But the reason
for that is that the living space and natural resources of both have
shrunk because of economic processes powered by humans who are not
tigers, nor tribals either. The shrinkage of the tiger’s habitat, and
the shrinking of their numbers, is the result of such things as large
dams, iron ore mines, and menus in Beijing and Taipei restaurants – in
sum, the result of the lifestyle of the urban elite and the industrial
and commercial interests that go with them. It is fair to say that in
the unfolding of these processes, the tribal has been almost as much a
victim as the tiger itself. The solution urged by Thapar and his
colleagues is to punish one victim in order, ostensibly, to save the
other.
The media, naturally, have seized on this debate between ‘the tiger’
and ‘the tribal’. However, two recent and quite soberly presented
reports allow us to go beyond these polarized positions, towards a
more scientific approach with regard to biodiversity conservation in
India. The first is a fascinating study of the country’s biodiversity
commissioned in 2000 by the ministry of environment and forests, and
coordinated by the pioneering environmental group, Kalpavriksh.
Covering all of India’s states and Union territories, this was the
most participatory exercise in environmental planning ever undertaken
in the country’s history. (It is also, most likely, without parallel
elsewhere in the world.) Kalpavriksh worked with state and Central
governments, NGOs, scientists, and peasant and tribal communities to
produce nearly one hundred plans, these grouped under political
regimes, ecological zones and subject themes. Each report aimed at
integrating the ecological security of the region or state with the
livelihood security of those humans who most critically depended on
its biodiversity. It studied and critically assessed biodiversity in
the wild as well as in cultivated areas, and gave a special focus to
the rights of women and children (the main cultivators and collectors
of this biodiversity).
These various specific studies have been synthesized in a ‘final
technical report’ entitled Securing India’s Future (see this link for
more). Where traditional conservation focusses merely on saving large
mammals – those ‘megacharismatic metavertebrates’ – what we have here
is a far more sophisticated approach, and in at least three respects.
First, it is ecumenical with regard to scale, whereby small patches of
refugia, such as sacred groves or ponds, are given the same loving
attention as are large areas of wilderness. Second, it is ecumenical
with regard to species, with rare plants (including cultivated plants)
and insects being valued along with megacharismatic metavertebrates.
Third, it respects not just the human rights, but also the knowledge
systems of local communities, in order to incorporate folk ecological
knowledge in the management of conservation regimes.
This final technical report, summarizing all the others, recommends
that in matters pertaining to biodiversity management, “the State
becomes a facilitator rather than a ruler”, by nurturing “a
decentralized natural resource governance structure”. It argues that a
viable long-term policy must “strengthen and support community
conservation areas – across the entire rural land/waterscape”.
As it happens, the report of the Tiger Task Force, also just
published, likewise recommends a shift from ‘exclusive’ to more
‘inclusive’ methods of national park management. It deplores the
tendency of “tiger lovers … to band together into a select group that
would control policy and programme formulation” in the “belief that
the tiger can only be protected by building stronger and higher fences
against ‘depredators’”. In contrast to this centralizing perspective,
the task force draws attention to the vulnerability and suffering of
the underprivileged Indians who “share their resources with the tiger,
without getting any benefits in return … To succeed, tiger
conservation … has to bring benefits to [these] poor people.”
How might this be accomplished? One way is to turn those who lived in
and around national parks “into the frontline defenders of the forests
and protected areas, rather than see them as antagonists”. Their
knowledge and skills could be used to guide researchers and eco-
tourists, rather than poachers. Rather than ban all human use of the
forests, the state might encourage the sustainable extraction of non-
timber forest produce, such as honey, as was in fact being done, very
successfully, in some parks in south India. The choice was between
working with local people “to create situations in which they can live
within the rules of the protected areas and in fact to strengthen
[their] protection”, or working against them “so that they
increasingly turn against the protected areas and animals”. If the
latter alternative was preferred, warns the report, the state would
have to “invest more and more into protection – more fences, guns and
guards. Maybe we will win. But it is more likely we will lose”.
Both within the state bureaucracy, and among traditional wildlifers,
there is a strong resistance to change, a knee-jerk reliance on a
narrow-minded, centralizing and essentially punitive approach to
conservation.
These two quite outstanding reports draw on years of cutting-edge
research by Indian scientists. Thus, biologists like Raman Sukumar
have shown how it is possible to resolve conflicts between large
mammals and vulnerable villagers living in and around park areas.
Sociologists like Ashish Kothari have convincingly argued that, in the
long run, only a more participatory approach will save the forests and
their varied inhabitants. And ecologists like Madhav Gadgil have
outlined how conservation needs to move outwards, from saving species
towards protecting habitats and biodiversity as a whole.
The three scholars mentioned in the previous paragraph are all
internationally renowned for their work. They are regarded, outside
India, as global pioneers. Sadly, they have sometimes been prophets
without honour in their own country. For both within the state
bureaucracy, and among traditional wildlifers, there is a strong
resistance to change, a knee-jerk reliance on a narrow-minded,
centralizing and essentially punitive approach to conservation. This
makes it all the more necessary that these truly visionary documents
do not gather dust in sarkari offices. It was the government which
commissioned these reports; pressure must now be brought to bear to
ensure that they are implemented. For the lesson of our past
conservation failures is simply this – that India’s unparalleled
riches of biodiversity can only be protected by working with, rather
than against, the rural and tribal communities who live closest to
them. ⊕
Ramachandra Guha
14 Nov 2005
Ramachandra Guha is a historian, and a regular columnist with The
Telegraph of Calcutta. His writings are republished here by
arrangement.
CULTURE
Gonds nourish aspirations at annual fair
In what is supposed to be an annual religious and cultural gathering,
nothing is more mixed up than the speeches. Talks that start with the
fine points of Gondi religion, its practice and ritual, inevitably
delve into subjects with deeper socio-political resonance. From
interior Maharashtra, Aparna Pallavi reports on the annual Kachhargarh
fair.
28 February 2006 – “What are you looking for in this place? If you are
hoping to find answers here, you are in the wrong place. The only
worthwhile thing you can hope to take back from here is questions,”
says the serious, bespectacled Justice L R Maravi, a sessions judge in
Gondia district, Maharashtra and a Gond community leader. One hardly
knows how to respond to this staggering but forthright piece of
advice. What kind of answers can you expect anyway in this place where
everything refuses to conform to your ideas of what they ought to be?
It is Maagh Purnima day, and we are at the annual Kachhargarh tribal
fair in the deep interior Salekasa tehsil of Bhandara district,
Maharashtra. The fair is held to celebrate the day when, in Gond
mythology, the children of Mata Kali Kankali (not to be confused with
the Hindu deity Kali), mother goddess of the Gond people, were rescued
from a cave by the Gond religious leader Kari Kupar Lingo and his
sister Jango Raitad.
As we thread our way through thick crowds towards the little village
of Dhannegaon located at the foot of Kachhargarh hill, Dr Motiram
Kangali, a prominent Gond community leader and head of the Gondi Punem
(religion and culture) Mahasangha — the apex religious body of the
Gonds, updates us on the history of the fair. Kangali is with the
Reserve Bank of India and is a Ph D. “In the year 1976 some of us,
then students active in the tribal students movement, read about this
fair in the books of Russle and C U Wills.” Kangali, and two of his
friends K B Maraskole and Sheetal Markam, (who later went on to form
the Gondwana Mukti Sena, one of the constituent bodies of the Gondwana
Ganatantra Party) visited the place out of curiosity. “We found that
the fair had shrunk from the grand affair it once used to be to nearly
a non-event, with hardly 500 people visiting the spot annually.”
After visiting several other Gond pilgrimage centres in Central India,
the group selected Kachhargarh – originally known as Koili Kachar
Lohgarh, as the most convenient spot where Gond tribals from Central
India, Orissa and Andhra Pradesh could be brought together under a
common identity. “It was also around the same time that we realized
that there was no written documentation of Gond history, culture,
mythology and ritual,” says Kangali. This prompted him to take up the
work of research and documentation.
It was ten full years after this first visit, from 1986 onwards, that
the fair started being held at the present large scale. The
organisational activity that went into the fair also led to the
formation of the Gondwana Ganatantra Party (GPP), the political
organisation of the Gond people. Today, as many as 3-4 lakh Gond
tribals from the above-mentioned states visit the fair over three or
four days around Maagh Purnima time. The number of non-Gonds is
negligible. Mostly, it is journalists and social observers or just
curious urbanites. There is no tourism value to this cave or fair yet.
People hovering at the entrance of the sacred Kachhargarh cave. Pic:
Aparna Pallavi.
Within an hour of arrival, we commence the three km walk to the sacred
Kachhargarh cave – the most important part of the pilgrimage. The last
stretch is a difficult climb over a jagged hillside dotted with
ancient trees. It is awesome and breathtakingly beautiful to the eyes,
and a torture to limbs long habituated to urban ease.
But it is worth the trouble after all. The ancient cave, with its
dark, damp walls, and the cool, heavy air that pervades it, belongs to
another time. Its stream is a not-very impressive trickle in February,
but it swells to a torrent during the rains. It is too dark inside to
trace the stream’s origin, but the gurgling sound inside the cave is
enchanting. Deep and wide enough to accommodate some 20,000 people at
once, Kachhargarh cave retains its timeless quiet despite the presence
of a few hundred people in it.
Even if one misses the religious or mythological significance, there
is no way one can miss the spirit. For once, we are back to the days
of the earth’s youth. Here is meaning. Here is beauty. Here at last
you learn the meaning of the words ‘peace that passeth understanding.’
Here time does not exist. Here all questions dissolve, and so do
answers. There is nothing to look for any more, and nothing to hold on
to either. If only you could stay in this place and this state of mind
for ever, things would be all right.
But it is getting dark, and we have to get back down. Back to today.
Down to the tiny hamlet of Dhannegaon, whose every home is an open
house during the three days of the fair (February 11, 12 and 13 this
year). “You don’t have to know the residents,” says Chandralekha
Kangali, “You can camp in anyone’s courtyard, cook food, eat, sleep,
and stock your luggage.” Over tea, Maharashtra state chief of the
Gondwana Ganatantra Party, Raje Vasudev Shah Tekam says, “This is
mainly a cultural and religious fair. We Gond people have lost our
identity, our culture and religion – we have become a scattered
people. Through this fair we want to refresh our understanding of
these things, and rediscover our identity and dignity as one people.”
The GPP is not politically very strong, at least yet. Hari Singh
Markam was once elected to Parliament in what is now Chhattisgarh.
Some people have been elected at the local level, again in
Chhattisgarh, and very few in Madhya Pradesh.
Gondi world view
The Gond religion is nature-based. The Gond style of social
organisation is based on the ‘saga’ (clan) system. Under this system,
which was established by the Gond religious leader Kari Kupar Lingo,
there are 12 ‘sagas’ or groups which are further divided into 750
‘kur’ or clans.
Each clan is bound by the Gondi religion to protect one tree or plant,
one animal and one bird. The clan names are based on this
categorisation. For instance, the name Markam relates to the mango
tree, while the name Kangali refers to a certain climber.
The marriage rules of Gond tribals are also based on this
organisation. All the clans in one ‘saga’ worship a certain number of
deities, ranging from 1 to 7. Intermarriage between members from
different clans is permitted if one clan worships an odd number
(visham) of deities and the other an even (sam) number. The clans with
odd and even numbers cannot intermarry.
In several parts of India, Gond communities have forgotten this system
of marriage. At present, research is on to rediscover the vital
details of this system. Community leaders feel that the
reestablishment of this system is vital to the identity of the Gond
community.
Women: Gond mythology has it that Kari Kupar Lingo’s sister Jango
(rebel) Raitad started a social reform movement for the rights of
women, after which widows were given rights to maintenance in the
marital home as well as remarriage. Also, a woman’s consent is
important for marriage. Women have equal educational status.
• Caste panchayats and Gond women
• Convention of adivasis and nomads
Politics, he explains, is not on the fair’s agenda, but it is
impossible to keep it out entirely, as political overtones to the
religious and cultural message are inevitable.
“We Gonds want to resurrect our social and religious structure — the
system of 12 sagas and 700 kur (clans),” says Anandrao Madawi,
mursenal (chief) of the Jagatik Gond Saga Mandi, the apex body of the
Gond tribal panchayats, “We want our own state, our own language, our
own punem (religion). We want others to recognise that we exist.”
A quick ramble in the little makeshift market – the kind that
inevitably springs up at such places — makes for interesting
observation. There are several stalls selling books on Gond religion,
culture and even the basics of the spoken language. “A lot of our
people have forgotten the Gondi boli (language),” explains Kangali.
His books are being sold under the name Motiravan Kangali – a small
but startling piece of tribal self-assertion against Hindu
assimilation. Kangali is known by this first name in the Gond
community, and retains his original first name, Motiram, at work.
At other stalls, Gond religious symbols are for sale – some emblazoned
on T-shirts, some framed together with Hindu symbols. Stalls selling
traditional Gond paraphernalia of worship – exotic roots and herbs –
sit cheek by jowl with others selling incense, coconuts, tulsi and
rudraksha beads. Several stalls selling cassettes and CDs of Gondi
songs are doing brisk business. But beneath their glossy, faux filmi
covers, (one has a picture of a popular Hindi film actress) it is
impossible to determine which ones are authentic and which have been
created for the market.
“Each year the number of people at the fair goes up,” quips a senior
journalist from Nagpur, Jagdeesh Shahu. “But each year you see lesser
and lesser traditional clothes,” he adds.
“It is certainly not easy,” admits Tekam, “Our people want to recover
their religious-cultural identity, but the Hindu and global cultures
do have an insidious grip over their minds. There are contradictory
pulls.”
But there are positive signs too, says Kangali. At one time Hindu
assimilation was so complete that Gond people were ashamed of their
identities, and even clan names had been modified to sound like Hindu
surnames, he points out. “But since the resurrection of this fair, a
large number of people have resumed their original identities and clan
names. That is a beginning, at least,” he says.
Meanwhile some Angadevs have also descended from the cave. The
Angadevs are very small idols, 33 in number, and symbolise the
children of the mother goddess who were rescued by Lingo and later
became the emissaries of his message. They are put on ornate palkhis
(palanquins) and brought to the fair. The original idols are very
small. It is not clear if they always accompany the palkhi, and the
palkhi itself is the symbol of the Angadev, I am told.
An authentic, unadulterated cultural ritual unfolds. Clad in clean
white cotton half shirts, half dhotis and head-scarves, — proper Gondi
costume — the bearers of the palkhis dance around the Gond flag to
rhythmic drum beats. Men and women overcome by hypnotic emotion whirl
round and round in the spaces between. Since there is no fixed time of
the Angadevs coming and going, the dance takes place as and when some
idols are ready to return.
One of the palkhis descending from the hill. Pic: Aparna Pallavi.
7 pm. Time for today’s session of the Gond religious conference. The
huge marquee, with a capacity of at least 20,000 people, is crammed
full. They squeeze tighter inside the marquee and spill our over the
huge ground at the centre of which the marquee has been erected. By
midnight, the crowd will have swelled three times this size, say
community leaders, and a visual estimate indicates that this may not
be an exaggeration.
We are huddled on the dias — which appears to be an open-for-all area
where people come and take up space at will — with a motley crowd of
about 70 people. The speakers are a mixed crowd of politicians,
religious leaders, community elders and others whose identities are
not very clear.
Nothing is more mixed up than the speeches that are made. In the very
beginning, the announcers have instructed all speakers to stick to
religious matters. But talks that start with the fine points of
religious precept, practice and ritual, inevitably slip off into
subjects with deeper socio-political resonance. Language, culture,
identity, exploitation, the need for organisation and political self-
assertion, the need to resist cultural assimilation — all interlace
with rhetoric, religion, myth, ritual and even superstitious mumbo-
jumbo to form one complicated fabric in which it is impossible to
identify or sort out the different strains of thought.
The resolutions that are passed are definitely not religious —
inclusion of the Gondi language in the Eighth Schedule of the
Constitution and Gondi as an optional subject in schools in the seven
states with a high proportion of Gond population. Community leaders
say there are about 14 crore Gonds in the country — twice the
population of Maharashtra.
One is tempted to be judgemental — no clarity, no coherence, no order.
No one knows what they want. Why do they want to hold a religious fair
if they are going to talk politics?
Have you made your contribution?
Dear Reader, if you have been a regular at India Together, then you
already know that informative reporting on India Together is kept
viable by a partnership between you and us. If you haven’t yet made an
annual contribution, now is the time to change that. Support us at one
of the following levels:
– Rs.1000 (recommended)
– Rs.5000 (Friends of India Together)
– Rs.500 (basic)
Contribute now | Why your support matters
p.s.: Your support is voluntary. Nevertheless, we rely on it.
Or is it so? How much coherence can you reasonably expect from a
people who, along with their fellow adivasi communities, have been
victims of ruthless uprooting, exploitation and assimilation for
centuries? A people who are mostly impoverished, uneducated, have no
recourse to social or political power or sanction? A people who must
create a past, present and future; a history, identity and aspiration
for themselves — an entire discourse — all at once? Is twenty years
enough for such a mammoth task?
The questions do not allow easy responses. The realities are complex
and multilayered, and concerns that look overly simple one moment are
mindboggling the next.
Or maybe we are just missing the desperate undertone to everything
else — get together to survive! Hold on to each other — any link, any
reason will do. Just stand together…..
Meanwhile it is midnight. On the dias and in the marquee, people are
curling up to sleep where they can, even as a cultural programme is
announced. There is nothing to do but to follow suit.
As I work my tired body into a semi-comfortable posture between other
sleeping bodies, Justice Marawi’s eyes are suddenly just two inches
away from my own. “Did you get any answers?” he asks in a whisper. Did
I? I shake my head. “Pay attention to the questions, though,” he
whispers back, “Who knows one day they will lead to answers.” ⊕
Aparna Pallavi
28 Feb 2006
Aparna Pallavi is a journalist based in Nagpur, and writes on
development issues.
PRS LEGISLATIVE BRIEF
STs (Recognition of forest rights) bill
Who can live in forested areas? What rights to they have over lands
they have lived in for generations? Can they be relocated, and if so
on what terms? Legislation in Parliament attempts to balance forest
dwellers’ rights with economic and environmental objectives. Kaushiki
Sanyal presents a legislative brief.
HIGHLIGHTS OF THE BILL
(Read this section in detail)
*
The Scheduled Tribes (Recognition of Forest Rights) Bill, 2005 seeks
to recognise forest rights of forest dwelling Scheduled Tribes (FDSTs)
who have been occupying the land before October 25, 1980.
*
An FDST nuclear family would be entitled to the land currently
occupied subject to a maximum of 2.5 hectares. The land may be
allocated in all forests including core areas of National Parks and
Sanctuaries.
*
This page is organised as follows: The highlights of the Bill and the
key issues to be considered are listed briefly first; the details of
each are presented thereafter. Click here to see the highlights in
detail, and here to see the detailed analysis of key issues.
In core areas, an FDST would be given provisional land rights for five
years, within which period he would be relocated and compensated. If
the relocation does not take place within five years, he gets
permanent right over the land.
*
The Bill outlines 12 forest rights which include the right to live in
the forest, to self cultivate, and to use minor forest produce.
Activities such as hunting and trapping are prohibited.
*
The Gram Sabha is empowered to initiate the process of determining the
extent of forest rights that may be given to each eligible individual
or family.
KEY ISSUES AND ANALYSIS
(Read this section in detail)
*
There are no reliable estimates of the likely number of eligible
families although the Bill proposes to vest forest land rights to
FDSTs. Therefore, it is not known whether there could be significant
risk to existing forest cover.
*
If FDSTs in core areas are not relocated within five years, it could
lead to loss of forests, which are crucial to the survival of certain
species of wildlife. Large-scale relocation, on the other hand, could
result in possible harassment of FDSTs.
*
Communities who depend on the forest for survival and livelihood
reasons, but are not forest dwellers or Scheduled Tribes, are excluded
from the purview of the Bill.
*
The Bill specifies October 25, 1980 as the cut-off date to determine
eligibility. However, it does not clarify the kind of evidence that
would be required by FDSTs to prove their occupancy.
*
Terms such as ‘livelihood needs’ have not been defined. This could
lead to litigation and delay in implementation.
PART A: HIGHLIGHTS OF THE BILL
Context
The Scheduled Tribes (Recognition of Forest Rights) Bill, 2005 was
drafted to fulfill the need for a comprehensive legislation to give
due recognition to the forest rights of tribal communities [1]. These
rights were not recorded while consolidating state forests during the
colonial period as well as in independent India.
Recognizing the symbiotic relationship between tribal people and
forests, the National Forest Policy, 1988 [2], made provisions to
safeguard the customary rights and interests on forest land of
tribals. In order to implement these provisions, the Ministry of
Environment and Forest (MoEF) issued a set of six circulars [3] on
September 18, 1990 which decreed that pre-1980 occupation of forest
land would be eligible for regularization provided the State
Government had evolved certain eligibility criteria in accordance with
the local needs and conditions. The State Governments, however, failed
to implement the 1990 Guidelines.
Meanwhile, a Supreme Court order [4] led to large scale evictions by
the Forest Departments of various states. Following mass protests by
tribal communities, the MoEF issued supplementary guidelines on
February 5, 2004 to address the issue of recognizing the legal right
of tribal communities to forest land and resources. However, the
Supreme Court issued a stay order on the Guidelines.
Key features
* Rights of Forest Dwelling Scheduled Tribes
The Bill seeks to recognize and vest forest rights in forest dwelling
Scheduled Tribes (FDSTs), where they are scheduled, with respect to
forest land and their habitat. The forest rights in the core areas of
National Parks and Sanctuaries shall be granted on provisional basis
for a period of five years from the date of commencement of this Act.
If the holders of such rights are not relocated within five years with
due compensation, the rights would become permanent. The rights can be
inherited but they are not transferable.
The Bill delineates 12 rights of FDSTs over a variety of subjects. The
rights include: (a) living in the forest for habitation or for self
cultivation for livelihood, (b) community rights such as nistar (the
right of a resident of a village in respect of cattle grazing and
collection of jungle produce), (c) right to own, use or dispose of
minor forest produce, (d) conversion of forest village to revenue
village, (e) conversion of pattas or leases issued by any local
authority or any state government on forest land to titles, and (f)
other traditional customary rights. Customary rights exclude hunting,
trapping or extracting body parts of any wild animal. FDSTs also
cannot indulge in any activity that adversely affects wild animals,
forests and the biodiversity in the local area and need to ensure that
adjoining catchments areas and water sources are adequately protected.
Forest rights of FDSTs would be subject to the condition that such
communities had occupied forest land before October 25, 1980 [The
Forest (Conservation) Act, 1980 came into force on this date]. The
Bill specifies that no FDST shall be evicted from forest land under
his occupation till the recognition and verification procedure is
completed.
The Bill states that forest rights would be vested on such land which
is occupied by an individual or family or community when the Act comes
into force. The rights would be restricted to the area under actual
occupation and shall not exceed an area of 2.5 hectares per nuclear
family. The title would be registered jointly in case of married
persons and in the name of the single head in case of single member
households.
Forest rights would be conferred free of conditions such as Net
Present Value (NPV) and compensatory afforestation for diversion of
forest land [5]. Under the Forest (Conservation) Act, 1980, the state
government or any other authority cannot divert forest land for non-
forest purposes without prior approval of Government of India. In case
it is diverted, a certain amount of money (NPV of the land) has to be
deposited with the government for purposes of compensatory
afforestation, and the State government has to keep aside a
proportionate area of land for afforestation.
* Authorities for Vesting Forest Rights
The Gram Sabha, a village assembly of all adult members of a village,
shall have the authority to initiate the process of determining the
nature and extent of individual or community forest rights that may be
given to FDSTs within the local limits of its jurisdiction under this
Act. The Gram Sabha is empowered to receive claims, consolidate and
verify them, and prepare a map delineating the area of each
recommended claim in such manner as may be prescribed for exercise of
such rights. It would then pass a resolution to that effect and
forward a copy to the Sub-Divisional Level Committee (SDLC).
The SDLC, which shall be constituted by the State Government, would
examine the resolution passed by the Gram Sabha and prepare the record
of forest rights. It would then be forwarded to the District Level
Committee (DLC) through the Sub-Divisional Officer for a final
decision. The DLC would be the final authority to approve the record
of forest rights prepared by the SDLC.
A State Level Monitoring Committee would be formed to monitor the
process of recognition and vesting of forest rights. The Committee
would submit returns and reports to the nodal agency (the ministry
dealing with Tribal Affairs). The SDLC, DLC and the State Level
Monitoring Committee would consist of officers from the departments of
Revenue, Forest and Tribal Affairs at the appropriate level as may be
prescribed.
If a person is not satisfied by the ruling of the Gram Sabha, he can
file a petition to the SDLC who would consider and dispose of such
petition. If a person is not satisfied by the decision of the SDLC, he
can petition to the DLC within 60 days of date of decision of the
SDLC. The DLC’s decision would be final and binding.
* Penalties for Offences
In case a person is found guilty of contravening or abetting the
contravention of the provisions of the Act, engaging in unsustainable
use of forest or forest produce, killing any wild animal or destroying
forest or any other aspect of biodiversity or felling trees for any
commercial purpose, he shall be punished with a fine which may extend
to Rs 1,000. In case the offence is committed more than once, the
forest rights of the guilty person would be derecognized for such
period as the DLC, on the recommendation of the Gram Sabha, may
decide. The penalty would be in addition to any other law for the time
being in force.
If members or officers of authorities and committees commit an
offence, they would be deemed guilty and can be fined up to Rs 1,000.
PART B: KEY ISSUES AND ANALYSIS
The Scheduled Tribes (Recognition of Forest Rights) Bill, 2005, aims
to recognize and enforce the rights of FDSTs to forest land and
resources. The main challenge of the Bill is to harmonize the
potentially conflicting interest of recognizing forest rights of FDSTs
while protecting forests and wildlife resources. Lack of data
• Ecology for the people
• Forest fights, Indian style
• Understanding encroachment
• Their lands, our laws
Although the Bill proposes to recognize and vest forest land rights to
FDSTs, there are no reliable estimates of the number of families who
will be benefiting from the proposed legislation. Secondly, although
the government estimates that there are around 2-3 million people
living inside India’s protected areas (national parks and sanctuaries)
[6], there is no census of the number of FDSTs residing within the
core areas of national parks and sanctuaries [7]. Therefore, it is not
possible to calculate how much forest land would be required in order
to implement the provisions of the Bill.
Tribal Rights vs Environmental Conservation
* Differing Viewpoints
There are three main streams of thought regarding this issue. Some
experts say that tribal communities have lived in forests for
centuries, and granting them the formal right over forest land is just
undoing a historical injustice. On the other extreme, some
conservationists say that certain species of animals (such as the
tiger) cannot co-exist with humans, and there is a need to reserve at
least some parts of forests to conserve these species. They also say
that increased human habitation in forests will cause depletion of
forest cover, resulting in significant ecological costs. A third view
is that traditional forest dwellers help in preserving forests, and
giving them land rights would actually help in ecological conservation
[8]. However, there does not appear to be any clear evidence to
conclusively support any of these views. Some of these issues are
discussed below.
* Allotment of Land
The Bill prescribes 2.5 hectares as the upper limit of forest land
that an FDST nuclear family may be allotted. However, there is a
possibility that it might result in elimination of legal protection
for forest cover, which could lead to heavy ecological damage [9]. For
instance, the possible depletion of watershed forests of Central
India, which allow penetration of rain water into the sub soil, could
lead to drying up of rivers such as Narmada, Tapti, Mahanadi,
Godavari, Krishna, and Cauveri [10]. The counter-argument is that the
Bill only seeks to recognize the forest rights of FDSTs who have been
cultivating the forest land for generations. In any case, the total
forest land under encroachment is estimated by the government at 13.43
lakh hectares [11], which amounts to about 2% of the recorded forest
area in the country [12].
It is also possible that confiscating forest land from the tribal
families, who possess more than 2.5 hectares of land, could lead to
further impoverishment of tribal communities [13].
* Core Areas
The Bill grants forest rights to FDSTs in core areas [14] of National
Parks and Sanctuaries provided they are relocated within five years.
If relocation does not take place within the prescribed time period,
the holder would get permanent right over forest land. Therefore,
there would either be large scale relocation of tribal communities or
they would get permanent right over land in core areas.
Given India’s poor track record in relocating people affected by
development projects, such as the Narmada Dam [15], or from
sanctuaries such as Sariska and Gir [16], the possibility of large
scale relocation from core areas raises the spectre of loss of
livelihood and hardship for FDSTs.
There could also be an argument against advocating coexistence between
wild animals and tribal communities. Certain species such as tigers,
rhinos, and elephants are vulnerable to pressures from human land use
[17]. These species are typically large-bodied, slow breeding, need
large areas, and vast resources for survival. Some experts argue that
it might be more realistic to identify protected areas, which consist
of National Parks and Sanctuaries (about 4.7% of India’s geographical
area [18]) as inviolate while areas outside such reserves could be
utilised to serve the needs of tribal communities [19].
Coverage
* 1980 ‘cut-off date’
The Bill takes October 25, 1980 as the cut-off date for vesting and
recognizing forest land rights of the tribal community. However, the
Bill does not specify the kind of evidence that FDSTs would require to
prove their occupancy of forest land before 1980. Although states such
as Maharashtra have adopted more effective procedures than just
documentary evidences (oral testimonies, evidence of elders of the
village etc.) for verifying claims [20], it is not mandatory for every
state to adopt such practices. Therefore, there might be a case for
specifying a set of admissible evidences in the Bill itself.
Also, it is unlikely that FDSTs would have the required documentary
evidence to prove their occupancy over forest land before 1980 [21].
Thus, in order to minimize evictions, a case could be made for
settling the claims of FDSTs on the basis of current occupancy of
forest land.
* Exclusion of certain communities
The Bill only recognizes forest rights of FDSTs who are defined as
‘Scheduled Tribes who primarily reside in forests and includes the
Scheduled Tribes pastoralist communities and who depend on the forests
or forest lands for bona fide livelihood needs.’ Other communities who
depend on the forest for survival and livelihood reasons, but are not
forest dwellers or Scheduled Tribes, for instance in large sections of
Chattisgarh and forest tracts of Uttaranchal [22], are excluded from
the purview of the Bill. This could lead to large-scale eviction of
such people and increase social tension among the various forest
communities.
The Bill also specifies that FDSTs would be granted forest rights only
in places where they are scheduled. However, such a clause could lead
to denial of rights to tribal communities on the ground that they do
not reside in the area where they are scheduled even though many
tribal people have been displaced due to development projects and
creation of protected areas [23].
Role of Gram Sabha
Although the Gram Sabha has been given the power to initiate the
process of determining forest rights, the final decision rests with
the DLC. The DLC is also the authority that would decide the period
for which an FDST’s forest rights is to be derecognized in case of
repeated contravention of the provisions of the Act. Although the
Statement of Objects and Reasons of the Bill envisages involvement of
democratic institutions at the grassroots level, the Gram Sabha does
not have the power to recognize forest rights or enforce such rights.
Eviction and Relocation
The Bill does not place any explicit restriction on the methods that
can be used to remove non-eligible forest dwellers. This is a concern,
given the history of cases where brutal force has been used to evict
tribal families [24]. The Bill mentions that FDSTs would be relocated
from core areas of National Parks and Sanctuaries with due
compensation. However, the Bill does not clarify exactly what kind of
compensation would be offered to the tribal people, what recourse they
would have if such compensation is not satisfactory or is altogether
denied.
Definitions
Certain terms mentioned in the Bill have not been defined. It could
lead to difficulty in implementing the provisions of the Bill. Clause
3 (j) mentions ‘the right to protect, regenerate or conserve or manage
any community forest resource which they have been traditionally
protecting and conserving for sustainable use.’ The term ‘community
forest resource’ is not defined, and hence, it is not clear whether
these also include resources within government owned forests including
National Parks and Sanctuaries. The term ‘nuclear family’ has also not
been defined, though each ‘nuclear family’ has a right up to 2.5
hectares of forest land. FDSTs are defined as those ‘members or
community of the Scheduled Tribes who depend on the forests or forest
land for bonafide livelihood needs’. The term ‘livelihood needs’ is
not defined which leaves the scope of activities allowed open to
interpretation.
Penalties
The Bill imposes a fine of Rs 1,000 on FDSTs in case of contravention
of provisions of the Act. If the offence is repeated, the person’s
forest rights might be derecognized for such period as decided by the
DLC on the recommendation of the Gram Sabha. However, the Bill does
not specify whether an FDST has the right to appeal such a ruling of
the DLC to a higher authority (such as the State Level Monitoring
Committee) other than to a court.
The member of a committee is also required to pay a fine of Rs 1,000
if found guilty of contravening the provisions of the Act. However,
this amount might not be a sufficient deterrent. ⊕
Kaushiki Sanyal
15 Apr 2006
Kaushiki Sanyal is a researcher with Parliamentary Research Service, a
unit of the Center for Policy Research in New Delhi. PRS is an
independent initiative to make the process of law-making in India more
transparent, better informed and participatory.
• Write the author
• Post a comment on this article
• Forests
• Adivasis
Notes
1.
The National Advisory Council (Chairperson: Smt. Sonia Gandhi), made
certain recommendations, including the need for central legislation,
to improve the condition of the tribal population (see
http://nac.nic.in/concept%20papers/evictions.pdf)
2.
National Forest Policy, 1988
3.
(FP1) Regularization of Encroachment (FP2) Review of Disputed Claims
over Forest Land (FP3) Regularization of Pattas and Leases (FP4)
Elimination of Intermediaries and Payment of Fair Wages to the
Labourers on Forestry Works (FP5) Conversion of Forest Villages into
Revenue Villages and Settlement of Other Old Habitations (FP6) Payment
of Compensation for Loss of Life and Property Due to Predation/
Depredation by Wild Animals.
4.
In T.N. Godavarman vs Union of India (Writ Petition (C) No. 202 of
1995), the Supreme Court issued an order “restraining the Union of
India from permitting regularization of any encroachments whatsoever
without leave of this Hon’ble Court.” However, a letter of Inspector
General of Forests, dated May 3, 2002, instructs state governments to
evict the ineligible encroachers and all post-1980 encroachers from
forest land in a time bound manner. The letter refers to the SC order
of Nov 23, 2001
(see http://nac.nic.in/concept%20papers/evictions.pdf).
5.
Net Present Value (NPV) and Compensatory Afforestation are
requirements associated with using forest land under the Forest
(Conservation) Act, 1980. NPV of the diverted forest land is a measure
of the potential value of such land. The Supreme Court, in the course
of Godavarman case, mandated that any user agency, prior to diverting
forest land, would have to pay the NPV of that land to a Court created
Central Government agency called Compensatory Afforestation Management
and Planning Agency. The value, which is subject to upward revision,
was set at the rate of Rs 5.80 lakh to Rs 9.20 lakh per hectare of
forest land depending upon the quantity and density of the land in
question converted for non-forest use.
(see http://164.100.194.13/allied_forclr/htmls/Guidelines/Guidelines.htm,
and
http://www.elaw.org/resources/text.asp?id=2998)
6.
Press Information Bureau, Govt. of India
7.
M.D. Madhusudan, “Of Rights and Wrongs: Wildlife Conservation and
Tribal Bill”, (Economic and Political Weekly), November 19, 2005
8.
Pradip Prabhu, “The Right to Live With Dignity”, (Seminar), No. 552,
Aug 2005
9.
P.V. Jayakrishnan, “Is there a need for this Bill?”, (Seminar), No.
552, August 2005
10.
Beware of Tribal Bill’s Consequences: Buch, Hindustan Times, May 21,
2005
11.
Press Release, Ministry of Tribal Affairs
12.
Bela Bhatia, “Competing Concerns”, (Economic and Political Weekly),
Nov 19, 2005
13.
Madhuri Krishnaswamy, “One Step Forward, Two Steps Back”, (Economic
and Political Weekly), Nov 19, 2005
14.
Core Areas: National Parks and Sanctuaries are required to keep
certain areas inviolate for purposes of wildlife conservation. The
areas may be determined by the Ministry of the Central Government
dealing with Environment and Forests.
15.
Mike Levien, “Narmada: Life, Struggle and Exodus”, (India Together),
August 2004
16.
Ghazala Shahabuddin, Ravi Kumar, Manish Shrivastava, “Pushed over the
Edge”, (Economic and Political Weekly), Aug 6, 2005
17.
Refer M.D. Madhusudan (Note 7)
18.
Wildlife Institute of India’s Executive Summary, “Wild Life Protected
Area Network in India: A Review”
19.
Valmik Thapar’s Dissent Note in the Report of the Tiger Task Force
(Joining the Dots) set up by the Ministry of Environment and Forest
20.
Jean Dreze, “Tribal Evictions from Forest Land”, March 2005
21.
Refer Madhuri Krishnaswamy (Note 13)
22.
Refer Madhuri Krishnaswamy (Note 13)
23.
Madhu Sarin, “Scheduled Tribes Bill, 2005: A Comment”, (Economic and
Political Weekly), May 21, 2005
24.
Refer Jean Dreze (Note 20)
Comments (1)
* Posted by Dambarudhar Jamuda,
The FDSTs are mostly illiterate. Hence their gram Sabhas may not
deliver goods. Whether the rules made thereunder require the
Authorities to act as facilitators for the same and whether there is
provision for fixing responsibility in case of lapses. Any legislation
without teeth becomes ineffective, more so for the Acts meant for down
trodden.
IN PICTURES – Fight for Survival, documentary, 20 mins.
For more information on the film: madari.shorturl.com
27 April 2006 – It is often overlooked that laws are driven by the
values of the law makers. When these values turn against a particular
community, such as the African-Americans in the Jim Crow South,
zealous do-gooders often use the protection of the “law” to brutalize
those communities. In India, the Animal Rights Act is such a cover,
used by animal rights NGOs and forest department officials to
prosecute the Madaris, an iconic community that has worked with
animals through the millennia.
Fight for Survival won the second prize from amongst 85 films at the
South-Asia Livelihood Documentary Festival “Jeevika”, organised by the
Centre for Civil Society, in New Delhi from 20-28 January 2006.
• Convention of nomads and adivasis
• Gonds nourish aspirations at fair
In the film, Fight for Survival (20 mins), director Dakxin Bajrange
shows us the results of this persecution. In Gujarat in 2003, the
Animal Help Foundation and the forest department literally took the
fight to the Madaris. Under the guise of protecting animals, Madaris
were beaten by hired thugs, dragged out from their bastis, and locked
up in dog-cages. Their snakes were taken away, depriving them of their
only source of livelihood. But in the ruling values paradigm,
officials and the urban NGO have greater credibility than the Madaris
who are seen anyway as representative of an ignorant India, an India
that ‘India Shining’ seeks to leave behind.
Bajrange spoke to the NGOs who decry that “India is known as a country
of elephants and snake-charmers” and forest department officials to
get their side for the film. The officials brush off the complaints of
torture and beatings declaring that “to bring any change, some pain is
necessary.” Despite its focus on particular episodes of persecution,
Fight for Survival is a rich record of the lives of the Madaris. The
Madaris emerge not just as “snake-charmers”, but a living, thriving,
dynamic community.
Being a member of a stigmatised tribe himself, Bajrange brings to the
film a sense of the real, lived experience of being on the wrong side
of the law. In highlighting the situation of the Madaris, he speaks
out for voiceless communities everywhere.
Tarun Jain.
27 Apr 2006
Tarun Jain is a Ph.D student in Economics at the University of
Virginia.
• Adivasis
• Society
• Gujarat
• Post a comment on this article
Comments (2)
* Posted by Radhika Sharma,
I believe there are two ways of getting out of any situation; the one
that makes the situation better and the one that makes it worse. The
way that Animal Help Foundation and Forest Department are trying to
solve this issue (and I say this with all due respect to the cause),
is an example of the latter way.
India is indeed the land of snake charmers and elephants. And there
are ways to make sure it stays that way, without the consequent harm
to the animals. What if, for example, we were to introduce a system of
licensing these madaris. Only the license holder madaris would be
allowed to perform at predesignated places. These people could be
subjected to regular inspections/surprise audits of the animals and
the conditions they are kept in. Better still, these guys could be
provided some basic training on how to look after their animals. This
calls for more intervention and commitment from the government. The
non-licence holder madaris, if trying to run a illegal show, can be
then taken to task.
A cultural tradition should be provided more support to sustain and
flourish, not eliminated.
* Posted by sandeep kumar,
respected sir,
I think the possible answer to this problem is to engage these snake
charmers in
conservation of snakes by promoting venum cooperative which has helped
the Irula tribe in Tamilnadu and Andhra Pradesh. This will not only
help the snake
charmers but will also help in snake conservation as well as snake
bitten
people.
yours faithfully,
sandeep kumar,
jharkhand 827006
THE NARMADA SAGA
Shunglu committee : familiar fait accompli
Both the Supreme Court and the Prime Minister recognised that
rehabilitation for Sardar Sarovar dam on the Narmada river was
incomplete, but neither was willing to fulfil their legal
responsibility to actually stop construction. Instead, the the Shunglu
Committee is now “independently” investigating rehabilitation and it
appears compromised, worries Mike Levien.
3 July 2006 – Once again this year’s monsoon rains will bring
destruction instead of kharif to the people of the Narmada Valley. Yet
again the government has raised the height of the Sardar Sarovar (SSP)
dam without providing rehabilitation to those who will be displaced.
Successive dharnas by the Narmada Bachao Andolan (NBA) in Delhi,
including a three week fast by Medha Patkar and dam-affected villagers
Jamsingh Nargave and Bhagwatibai Patidar, have failed to make the
government listen.
In May, 48 dam-affected villages presented overwhelming evidence in
their Supreme Court application that rehabilitation of all affected
families at the impending 122m dam height is incomplete. Both the
government-appointed Group of Ministers who visited the valley and the
Madhya Pradesh government in its own petition to the court confirmed
this assertion. Despite all this, the Supreme Court allowed
construction on the SSP to continue. It is indisputable that this
decision is a direct violation of the apex court’s previous decisions
and relevant law.
Without the threat of stopping construction, the states have no
incentive to actually provide the required rehabilitation to project
affected families.
• A moral breach in the dam
• The dams balance sheet
According to the Narmada Waters Dispute Tribunal Award (NWDTA) and the
Supreme Court’s own decisions of 2000 and 2005, rehabilitation of all
Project Affected Families (PAFs) in all three affected states (Madhya
Pradesh, Gujarat, and Maharashtra) must be totally completed six
months before each successive increase in the dam height. Anyone who
cares can look this up in the original NWDTA decision and also the
Supreme Court’s 2000 and 2005 decisions. Construction on the dam thus
cannot legally precede full rehabilitation of affected families.
The Shunglu Committee
Both the apex court and the Prime Minister recognised that
rehabilitation was incomplete, but neither was willing to fulfil their
legal responsibility to stop construction. Instead, the Prime Minister
created, and the Supreme Court endorsed, an Oversight Group (known as
the Shunglu Committee) to “independently” investigate the
rehabilitation situation in the Narmada Valley. The Court indicated
that it would be willing to stop construction if the committee finds
rehabilitation to be incomplete.
First, this decision employs a very strange logic. The Shunglu
Committee was supposed to report back to the Prime Minister about the
rehabilitation status in the valley by 20 June (this has since been
delayed). Based on this report, the Prime Minister is supposed to
issue a recommendation within seven days to the Supreme Court, which
is expected to make a decision by July 3. Even if the committee finds
that rehabilitation is incomplete (which it will if it conducts its
mission in good faith), by this time construction up to 122 m will be
finished!
This means that regardless of the committee’s findings, over 35,000
families in the Narmada Valley will see their homes, fields, and
communities flooded before the vast majority of them are given their
legally guaranteed rehabilitation. It must be stated again that this
is entirely illegal according to the NWDTA and the Supreme Court’s
previous decisions. Furthermore, as history shows, without the threat
of stopping construction, the states have no incentive to actually
provide the required rehabilitation to project affected families.
Thus, lakhs of adivasis displaced at 110m, 100m, 90m and below are
still languishing without alternative livelihoods to turn to, as any
trip to the Narmada Valley will show.
Second, the survey of dam-affected villages that the Shunglu Committee
has been conducting with the help of the National Sample Survey
Organization (NSSO) is methodologically flawed in several ways. First,
the instructions given to the committee by the Court only allow it to
investigate whether those affected between the 110 and 122 metre dam
heights have been rehabilitated. However, it is clear that lakhs of
people below that height are still unrehabilitated due to past illegal
height increases. Further, the committee is only allowed to verify the
information presented in the state’s rehabilitation reports and cannot
look beyond them.
Even if the committee finds that rehabilitation is incomplete (which
it will if it conducts its mission in good faith), by this time
construction up to 122 m will be finished!
Thus the committee is not investigating the status of affected people
who are not on the government’s official lists. But one of the biggest
problems with rehabilitation in the Narmada Valley is that thousands
of people have been entirely left off the official PAF lists! Even as
the committee is in the valley on its investigation, Narmada Valley
Development Authority (NVDA) officials are also there, resurveying and
adding hundreds of more people to the lists daily. But none of these
people will be shown in the committee’s report. Gramsabhas have also
conducted comprehensive sample surveys in four villages, which show
many more people affected by submergence than are on the government’s
PAF lists. But the Shunglu Committee refuses to take all these into
consideration.
Third, the way the surveyors are asking questions guarantee that they
will miss much of what’s happening in the Narmada Valley. The
surveyors are only asking people yes or no questions, and thus not
allowing villages to provide open-ended answers that would shed light
on the real rehabilitation realities that people are facing. For
example, in one village an interviewee reported that he had not
received compensation for his soon-to-be submerged house. Instead of
noting this, the surveyor asked him if he had received a houseplot.
The interviewee responded that he had on paper, but had not received
compensation for his house and thus could not build a new one, and
that moreover there were no civic amenities like electricity at the
site. But the surveyor simply recorded that the person had received a
houseplot! In another example, surveyors refused to listen to
villagers who were trying to tell them that their land would become
tapu (surrounded by water) because they did not have a column for that
on their survey. Without open eyes and ears, how is the committee
supposed to understand the actual situation in the valley?
Reports from many villages also indicate grave and inappropriate
behaviour by government surveyors, which severely call into question
their “independence” and impartialness. While surveyors are not
supposed to be accompanied by government patwaris, NVDA officials have
been seen with almost every team. Clearly this is inappropriate
influence by an agency that has a vested interest in continued dam
construction. Meanwhile, villagers not being directly surveyed and the
people’s representative organisation (the NBA) are not allowed to talk
to surveyors. Even more disturbing, surveyors have been propagandising
and even making speeches to villagers about the dam project. Some
surveyors have encouraged villages to accept the meager (and illegal)
cash compensation that the government of Madhya Pradesh is offering
instead of demanding the land they are legally entitled to. In another
village, one of the surveyors (who happened to be from Gujarat)
actually gave a speech to PAFs about how the dam was in the national
interest and that they should make a sacrifice for it. Another told
them that they should move to Gujarat. Is this an impartial survey or
propaganda for illegal government policies? The Shunglu Committee
appears not to be an independent investigation, but a stalling tactic,
allowing dam construction to proceed before full rehabilitation is
completed.
The patent absurdity of all this would make the situation comic if it
weren’t so tragic. When the monsoon waters back up behind the 122m dam
wall, many thousands of people will be flooded from their homes. Small
adivasi villages and densely populated towns of Nimad will be
submerged, along with their shops, markets, and temples. Farmers will
lose their fields and crops, and since the concerned governments do
not recognise many of them as affected, they will be shoved off
without compensation or alternative land to turn to for their
livelihood. Those who are identified as affected will be dumped in tin
sheds with no cultivable land if they are lucky (even these tin shed
homes have yet to be constructed in many of the rehabilitation sites).
Others who are not officially counted could wind up in the slums of
the nearest cities, as happened to many evictees of the upstream Bargi
Dam. How many this will happen to is hard to predict as it depends on
the size of the monsoon rains. But it’s a lot more people than all
three state governments are recognising, and is certainly measured in
lakhs.
What next?
Given the sheer number of oustees and the gaping holes in the
governments’ rehabilitation plans, it is impossible that this could be
corrected before the August-September submergence, even if the
governments were making an effort. The Group of Ministers team sent to
the Narmada Valley by the Prime Minister reported that rehabilitation
in Madhya Pradesh at the 122m dam height would take at least another
year.
The government must take several steps immediately. First, the
problems with the Shunglu committee’s investigation must be
acknowledged. Whatever the committee’s conclusions, it is already
clear that their survey will provide only a very partial and
incomplete picture of the rehabilitation situation in the Narmada
Valley. The committee’s final report should take into consideration
the information and critiques brought to light by the gramsabhas and
the NBA. Two, with the impending monsoon rains, the government must
act on war-footing to provide rehabilitation to those who will be
displaced.
The glaring injustice and illegality of this must also serve as a
lesson for next year, when the government will again try to push the
dam height to 140 metres. But the law is clear. No further height
increase should be allowed until it is shown that every family in the
submergence area has received its full, legally-guaranteed
rehabilitation. So far, the Supreme Court, the Prime Minister, and the
three respective state governments have all failed to live up to their
responsibility to enforce the law and protect the rights of people in
the Narmada Valley. ⊕
Mike Levien
3 Jul 2006
Mike Levien is a Ph D Student in Sociology at the University of
California-Berkeley. He can be reached at mlevien @ berkeley.edu. He
has recently been travelling in the dam-affected villages and
rehabilitation sites of the Narmada Valley, where he has spoken with
dam-affected people. He previously spent a year in 2003-2004 writing
about the Sardar Sarovar Project and Narmada Bachao Andolan.
MONSOON REPORT
Horrifying face of the dammed river
Incessant rainfall in the catchment area of the Sardar Sarovar dam,
coupled with less water being allowed to flow into the Narmada main
canal led to an unusual overflow in early August, despite upstream
dams not recording downstream releases. Himanshu Upadhyaya reports on
the devastation in the Narmada valley.
30 August 2006 – On 28 July, a news story filed by The Indian Express
correspondent reported inflow of 651.29 cubic metres (23000 cubic
feet) water per second at the Sardar Sarovar Dam on the Narmada river.
Four days later, on 2 August, a press release from PTI filed from
Ahmedabad flashed the news of the controversial dam overflowing. Per
second inflow of water at the dam was 3308.40 cubic metres (1.16 lakh
cubic feet) and outflow through the sluice gates downstream was
1324.60 cubic metres (0.46 lakh cubic feet). Overflow was registered
at 122.50 cubic metres (0.04 lakh cubic feet) per second.
Behind these apparently obscure numbers is the real story. This
summer, following the clearance from Narmada Control Authority to
raise the height of the dam from 110.64 to 121.92 metres, Gujarat had
raised the height of the dam to 119 metres before the onset of the
monsoon and had to stop the construction work when monsoon rains
arrived. The water level at the dam had touched 119.11 meter mark, as
indicated by a flood control room official. And as predicted, by the
end of July, submergence had already started with increased inflow of
water.
So there was a natural curiosity as to how effectively and optimally
did Gujarat utilise the fresh impoundment water in the reservoir?
A correspondent with Gujarati language newspaper Sandesh reported that
“the gate of Main Narmada Canal is just 0.5 metre open and the water
flowing down the main canal is merely 580 cusecs (i.e. cubic feet per
second).” A glance at Gujarati newspapers suggested that Narmada Main
Canal was carrying such a meager amount of water thanks to breaches at
several places. This situation led to the sudden build up of water at
dam site since while the inflow of water into reservoir went up,
following intense rains in the catchment area in Maharashtra, the
volumes of waters flowing into main canal was very meager. (Breaches
in the Narmada canal have occurred routinely during past couple of
monsoons due to failure to provide for adequate drainage structures.
See: Rivers and Plans run Off Course, Sep. 2005)
In the past years, the water level at Sardar Sarovar Dam site rose
only after the release of water from upstream Tawa, Bargi and Indira
Sagar Dam.
• In the dam’s waters they trust
• Overflowing with the official view
India Together readers will recollect the remarks made by P K Laheri,
chairman of SSNNL on how would they utilise waters to be impounded in
reservoir, were they allowed to raise the height of the dam (See:
Overflowing with the Official View). Last year on 1 August, The Indian
Express report quoted him saying, “All this water could have been
saved. Two months of storage in the dam has been lost. If the level
had been five metres higher, the curve of power generation would have
been optimum. We could have filed up reservoirs in scarcity prone
areas of Surendranagar and Banaskantha, or released water into more
rivers like Sabarmati. We wanted to do all this in this monsoon. It is
unfortunate…we will have to wait for the next season.”
The controversial dam has generated much debate and the summer of this
year witnessed hundreds of oustees affected by the dam camping at
Jantar Mantar, New Delhi. And since the first week of August, the dam
started overflowing leading to wide spread submergence in the river
valley. The incessant rainfall in the catchment area of the dam,
coupled with meager amount of water being allowed to flow into main
canal led to a rather unusual event, where we witnessed the dam
overflow even as upstream dams on the Narmada river had not recorded
downstream releases. In the past years, the water level at Sardar
Sarovar Dam site rose only after the release of water from upstream
Tawa, Bargi and Indira sagar Dam. (Such downstream releases from
upstream Tawa and Indira Sagar Dam started from August 15.)
On 4 August, water level at the dam site had reached a high of 127.4
metres.
The local people were planning to launch a satyagraha at three
different villages slated to drown under dam waters starting during
5-7 August. But the sudden rise in the water levels at dam site led to
drowning of houses from Dhankhedi, Bhadal and Danel villages in
Maharashtra. Hamlets in other eight villages were just on the brink of
submergence. Two jeevanshalas (boarding schools for adivasi students
studying in 1st to 4th standard) in Danel and Bhadal village got
submerged. But this did not dampen their spirits, more than 3000
adivasis and farmers marched to Badwani, M.P., a district headquarter
that has been base of Narmada Bachao Andolan for last two decades,
braving incessant rains. After taking out a rally at Badwani they
gathered at Rajghat on the banks of Narmada river to launch a
satyagraha with a resolve to fight the injustice. They were joined by
the supporters and fraternal organizations from various states
including Gujarat, Tamilnadu, Kerala, U.P., West Bengal, Delhi and
other states.
But even as they moved to another adivasi village, Bhitada in
Alirajpur tehsil of Jhabua district in M.P., they were in for a very
grave situation with Narmada waters constantly rising. More than 120
children studying at Jeevanshala in Danel got stranded and had to face
rising waters, until a barge from Maharashtra came around – not to
rescue them but to arrest them. When the police arrested them and took
them to the dam site, they took out a march against the displacement
and the dam in Gujarat. They all were brought to Akkalkua later.
By the afternoon of 7 August 7 (at 1 pm), water level at the dam site
had risen up to 127.35 metres. At Rajghat, the waters were overflowing
the bridge connecting Nisarpur and Badwani towns. Even as this figure
was reported, news agencies quoted Bharuch District Administrator
suggesting that the water level at dam site may rise up to 129 metres
by that time. The activists who returned from Bhitada and Chimalkhedi
villages on 9 August described the situation in the submergence
villages as horrifying. Noorjibhai Padvi of village Danel told
visitors, “the huge mountains that took us hours to climb are all gone
under water. It’s an awesome, horrifying face of the river that till
the dam came was so friendly to us. It is this government that has
robbed us of our friendly river and in turn given us this swollen
reservoir that has unleashed large-scale devastation.” The hills the
villagers referred to are part of Vindhya range.
Additionally, all roads leading towards the valley were blocked due to
the heavy downpour. Apart from the cutting off the mountain routes,
the waters had blocked the entry from Dhadgaon, from Madhya Pradesh or
Gujarat to the villages affected by the Sardar Sarovar dam.
In the rehabilitation sites in Gujarat also, most of the fields of
resettlement villages were inundated, destroying crops. In many sites
such as Karnet, Thuvavi, etc., water entered the houses. In
Maharashtra, waters entered in houses in Vadchhil and Javda and one
‘nullah’ burst, destroying the houses and sown fields. Keshav Vasave
from Maharashtra pointed out that not only the Madhya Pradesh
government, but Maharashtra government too failed to provide any
decent and legal resettlement to the tribal oustees in the state.
“There are no basic services like drinking water, fodder, fuel,
cultivable land, protection from rains in these places. We are cheated
and live the life of destitutes.”
The situation in the Narmada valley remains severely grave. In the
absence of proper planning, what we have witnessed is that all the
states are committed to thwart the debate and raise the dam height.
And with ad hoc administration, they have created devastation in
upstream submergence villages as well as downstream villages. Any
further increase in the height has to be questioned, since not only
have the state governments failed to rehabilitate affected people,
they have also wreaked havoc with lives of people upstream and
downstream.
Earlier, Supreme Court judges used a report of Prime Minister Manmohan
Singh’s Shunglu-committee, which does not present the ground level
truth. They posted the next hearing in the ongoing case to September.
Also, administration and news agencies in Gujarat have been issuing
statements regarding situation downstream of the Sardar Sarovar dam,
which is equally severe with 8.5 metres overflow registered at the dam
site. Several villages and a large part of Bharuch town (downstream)
got inundated with floodwaters.
To add insult to injury, the NVDA in Madhya Pradesh issued a press
briefing that only spoke on affected people accepting the disbursal of
cash compensation and passed it off as if they were getting
rehabilitated with alternate land. The Pioneer reported this on 6
August. But that the cash compensation was illegal and that the NVDA
was maintaining silence on the situation of adivasi villages affected
by submergence, went unreported.
With a very high inflow at another dam – Ukai on the river Tapti – the
city of Surat in south Gujarat was also severely affected by floods.
Prime Minister Singh did undertake an aerial survey of Surat and south
Gujarat. But he chose not to fly over the submerged Narmada valley,
look at the large expanse of villages drowning under waters and then
try to find on returning, what the Rehabilitation Oversight Group
commented on the probability of submergence. Neither did the rising
waters also ask the affected people before submerging their lands and
homes. But making an oblique reference to the fate of the Narmada Dam
oustees at his Independence Day speech, Singh said: “When I see large
development projects coming up, while one rejoices at the progress
that is being made, one worries for those who are displaced, for those
who have lost their land and livelihood.”
This will not do. The decisions that have imposed submergence on
affected people without properly rehabilitating them must be reversed.
⊕
Himanshu Upadhyaya
30 Aug 2006
Himanshu Upadhyaya is an independent researcher working on Public
Finance and Accountability issues.
• Write the author
• Post a comment on this article
• Adivasis
• The Narmada saga
• Maharashtra
• Reprint permissions
Comments (3)
* Posted by kirti patel,
I just want to clarify that dam or higher dam hight were not the cause
of flood.
1) With or without dam, the downstrean areas would experience floods
when there is too much rainfall upstream for a small river chennel to
manage the water flow.
2) Dam hight contains the waterflow resulting from excessive rain
upstream. So dam height can prevent floods and not cause them.
3) The only times flood can still result is that rainfall is so heavy
upstream that height of dam is not high enough to hold all that water
forcing the authorities to release excessive water from the dam to
prevent dam to be brown away.
(3) One can argue all day as to how much water should have been
released and how and when – but it is not exact science – it depends
on human judgements and how nature would behave over next several
hours to days. Nobody can procrastinate how much rain would fall and
how much water will be collected in upstream areas and how much
excessive water that dams would have to handle – even best estimates
are mere guesses and nature can prtove all of them wrong forcing
unplanned and unanticipated actions that involves minimizing the
fallout – choosing between lessor of the devastation. To politicise
them is worst kind of political opportunism.
* Posted by K.Sriharsha,
The article by Mr.Himanshu Upadhayaya, clearly brings to fore the fact
that even repeated blunders in the so called path of development with
the lives of the marginalised do not bring about any change in the
attitude of the rulers.
As amply portrayed in the article by Mr.Upadhayaya, the situation
since the previous monsoon has only worsened if anything.
We can talk about the techicalities of water storage and discharge,
but the question here is much graver than that. The question here is
of lives of the poor.
* Posted by Himanshu Upadhyaya,
To totally miss the point that my article talked more about the
devastation caused by Sardar Sarovar (Narmada) dam upstream due to
submergence results probably from a biased misinterpretation. Those
readers who miss the point the author wants to convey are free to read
the said article and other articles hyperlinked on the page again. To
merely behold an overflowing big dam and shout “a dam is overflowing
and everything is at peace on the earth” is to close rational
questioning at one’s own peril.
VERRIER ELWIN LECTURE
The tribal world and imagination of the future
“The Constitution is yours. The borders are yours. The sovereignty is
yours. The flag is yours. What is ours? What is that is both tribal
and Indian in the Constitution?” Shiv Visvanathan recalls an
Independence-era conversation that marks the passage of the adivasis,
unheard and unheeded, between two worlds.
14 November 2006 – Social scientists make poor story tellers. They get
absorbed in the objectivity of roles and institutions, and are also
unable to handle the nuances of repetition and redundancy, mistaking
them for cliches. Yet social scientists must tell stories.
On November 9th, 1947, negotiations between the tribal communities of
Chhotanagpur and the Indian government had broken down. The Indian
army under General Cariappa was worried, its focus already under
strain with the joint tensions of Kashmir and Hyderabad. Only Sardar
Patel was cool. He said, “we don’t fight the tribals. These people
fought wars of independence years before 1857. They are the original
nationalists.”
Patel’s sentiment had the idea that these tribals wanted a nation
without the nation-state. They loved the idea of Gandhi as father of
the nation but they would not accept the idea of the nation-state
which was anathema. For India, the problem of the Constituent Assembly
had become a fractured dialogue confronting a divided nation. The
first division was the silence of the Partition, the absence of the
Muslim League in the making of the Indian state. But the second break
that perplexed Patel, Nehru and Azad was the recalcitrance of the
tribes. It was not just the claim that they were autochthonous, more
original and native to India. It was not the argument that now that
freedom was coming, the Indians as conquerors should leave like the
British were leaving with their baggage of modernity, isms and the
Janus gift of progress. Two outsiders being shown the exit door was
high drama, but as comedy. For the tribals, while British hegemony was
tragedy, Indian democracy would be a farce. Neutral observers cringed
at this fatal use of Marx.
“These people fought wars of independence years before 1857. They are
the original nationalists.”
Nehru and Sardar were clear. The tribals were not razakars. Their
culture was different. Their plea was different. Their world and their
arguments were an appeal to a different imagination. The tribals, the
leaders felt, had to be talked to. Or, in the more dialogic language
of democracy, they had to be talked with. A change of prepositions was
becoming a change of propositions. Grammar was the first signal of
change, language, the first semiotics of freedom.
While the call for dialogue was in the air, there were a few violent
skirmishes. A few criminal/denotified tribals were lynched in public.
Two young boys were tortured to death. The osmosis of power was clear.
British or Indian, tribes were to be the cannon fodder of the emerging
state. The criminal justice system was irrelevant to them. Of course
witnesses in official time would laugh cynically. The Indian state was
still feeble, still hesitant. It had yet to offer its great
contribution, the drama of encounter deaths, to the world. Encounter.
Let me tell the reader it was not a dialogic idea which summoned a
Buber or Gandhi. Encounter was an asymmetric event, a zero sum game
where any random tribal was shot dead because he was seen as guilty by
being. The Indian police in later years would add their own privatized
twist to it by creating a perverse system of accounting. They would
file for excess ammunition and sell it off to the arms market.
Despite the violence the tribal leaders held their peace. They wanted
their world along our world. They wanted to be separate, equal and
reciprocal. The Gandhians and socialists were the most perplexed.
Jaipal Singh, one of the leaders, tried to explain. He asked them to
recollect the early days of the constituent assembly when the groups
were discussing the Directive Principles of State Policy (DPSP). He
reminded them of the discussion on prohibition, the state’s right to
prohibit alcohol. Singh reminded them that at that time, he had said
he could not think of tribes without their wine. He recollected how
the Gandhians had reprimanded him. When he had said a tribal’s drink
was a part of his being, his identity, his festivals, his celebrations
of life, the Gandhians had turned preachy, saying it violated the
precepts of the master, turning tribals into a social work problem.
Singh laughed at this, and said either the missionaries had never left
or when they left, they had left behind the Trojan horse called
‘social work’. He asked them to look at the violence of social work,
where some group is always defined as problematic, unreformable, and
refractory to the state. Social work problematizes the tribal as
alcoholic even before he accepts the state.
Nehru summoned Jaipal Singh, Ram Dayal Munda and other leaders to
Delhi. The men from Chhotanagpur spent their day with their old
Christian friend J C Kumarappa. The acerbic Gandhian welcomed them and
proceeded to quarrel with Nehru and Singh. Late next day, he drove
them in a tanga from the locality of Paharganj to Parliament. There
was a commotion near India Gate. The army held up the tanga saying it
was not allowed on public roads. Kumarappa argued that the army could
not decide what was public. The guests watched curiously wondering if
the Viceroy’s horse had similar problems. Eventually a phone call from
Nehru cleared the controversy and the dissidents made their regal way
to Parliament offices.
The two teams met and Nehru talked about history, the new tryst with
destiny. He felt at ease. Singh was also a Cambridge don, a hockey
blue. Singh listened and told Nehru he did not believe in history. He
asked Nehru whether he had heard of the new word which had just been
invented by President Truman. He called it ‘development’. An innocuous
word, colourless, odourless like most poisons and equally lethal.
Munda warned him that development would claim more victims than any
religion, any dogma. Nehru was distracted and wondered what he was
talking about. Only Kumarappa stood still, as if he had seen a new
horseman of the Apocalypse. The two groups decided to meet over the
next few weeks to talk things over. Nehru and Patel were clear they
could not think of an India without tribes. The tribal team agreed
whole-heartedly.
The Kumarappa papers
The report of the discussion that followed was found in the Kumarappa
papers. It came to light only in 2005, when two young researchers,
then-diasporic Indians from the University of Maryland, Venu Madhav
Govindu and Deepak Malghan, obtained a fellowship to write a biography
of the man. The report is a portion constructed on the basis of
Kumarappa’s minutes. The report is a bit secretive as to names,
occasionally using initials, which were a trifle confusing. The
debates of ideas, the politics is starkly there but the gossipy
richness of who said what to whom is occasionally lost.
The meeting with the Chhotanagpur Five was held in Teen Murti Bhavan,
then home of Jawaharlal. The meeting was attended by Sarojini Naidu,
Abul Kalam Azad, Kaka Saheb Kalelkar, Nehru and Patel. Benegal Rau,
ICS, was secretary and rapporteur. A British anthropologist, a certain
Verrier Elwin, also informally attended some sessions of the meeting.
The meeting broke into a furore even before the terms of the
discussions could be elaborated. The unfortunate event that led to the
confusion was the word ‘secessionist’. Mrs. Naidu’s use of the term
was objected to. The Chhotanagpur five not only objected to the use of
the term, but also what they claimed was the misunderstandings it
created. Secession, they felt, was an unfortunate term. Secession was
the key word in a political discourse and it unfortunately assumed the
baggage of state discourse, of passports, nationality, boundaries,
borders and security. Oddly, it was Mr. Elwin who grasped it with
typical understatement. He explained to Mrs. Naidu, “Our Munda friend
is not talking politics. He is talking as kinsmen. When families
mature or when a young man decides to marry, he takes a new home close
to his old one. The new house is different from but connected with the
old home. Segmentation would be the more appropriate word. Only now
the older home is demanding a distance from the new.”
In India, citizenship belongs not just to a domesticated middle class,
but its millions of nomads, its pastoral groups, its tribals who were
not part of the constituent assembly and probably never heard of it.
One of the five, Dr. Raphael Horo, himself part of the new Ranchi
Institute of Research, agreed vigorously. But Singh intervened to add,
“yes it is a kinship term. We are kinsmen. But there is a politics to
it. One has to redefine secession separately. It is not just the
physical movement of a group away from the ruler. In that sense, India
was always full of secessions, full of a million quarrels or mutinies.
Villagers used to move away from the ruler whenever he turned
oppressive. In many cases, the ruler sent a messenger beseeching his
subjects to come back and they did.” (Elwin notes in his diary, that
Patel grunted at this movement.)
The Chhotanagpur five argued that Indian democracy would always have
to be fluid or different. It was not a stock of collectivities but a
flow of people. In India, citizenship belongs not just to a
domesticated middle class, but its millions of nomads, its pastoral
groups, its tribals who were not part of the constituent assembly and
probably never heard of it. Their way of life, their taxonomies defied
the nation-state. India could only be India if yesterday’s
secessionist was today’s citizen. It was a cycle of life, lifestyle,
of livelihood that transcended the current ideas of politics. Modern
politics hovers between taxonomy and taxidermy. Either way, it wants
to pin you down. Benegal Rau, remembering his revered Laski and Dudley
Stamp, blurted that this challenged the current ideas of place and
space. Elwin brushed it aside by commenting a nomad carries his place
with him. But a tribal leader emphasized there was more to it.
Dr. Horo chuckled quizzically. He explained to Elwin that it is not
anthropology you need but science fiction. Quoting Margaret Mead, the
young Columbia University anthropologist explained that what
anthropology invents of the past, science fiction does the same of the
future. It is the anthropology of the future, a visionary science
which would be taught in a post-colonial age. The structure of India
is such that it needs renewal and dynamism. People seceding and
returning will be a cycle of political seasons. “Our new Ranchi
Institute survey projects that by the 1980′s at least 20-30 million
Indians and not just tribals would be seceding in some form or other.”
Nehru snapped abruptly saying, “Enough of H. G. Wells and Verne.”
Munda replied, “Wells as a novelist was a fertile imagination. It was
Wells as a Fabian who went dead politically.”
An uneasy silence followed. Rau notes in his minutes that Nehru was
wondering whether it was Columbia University rather than LSE he should
be worrying about. Columbia produced Kumarappa, Ambedkar, and now
Horo. This lot unlike the Laski troupe were more unpredictably
political. Nehru added that when he told Horo that SF was not even
literature, Horo is said to have replied, “you have to think beyond
Leavis. SF is bad text trying to capture the oral nature of
storytelling. As archive, it is miserable, as conversation and dream
exquisite.”
Kumarappa, in his minutes, notes that Patel, listening to all these
asides, was getting impatient. He turned to Jaipal Singh and said,
“All this is meaningless. We are not debating a syllabus, we are
discussing a constitution. Constitutionally what you are suggesting is
not possible.” Patel insisted, “Our preamble is non-negotiable. Our
borders are non-negotiable. This is not a seminar or a haat. It is
about our country you are talking about.”
Singh nodded sadly, realising that when push came to shove the
“tribals were not yet Indians. Only potential Indians, problematic
Indians, primitive Indians, but never Indians per se. India, like
Brahminism, needs twice-borns not the twice-aborted.” Both groups
realized that positions were polarized and old wounds had surfaced.
Mrs. Naidu proposed the group meet early the following day. That was
the only item of consensus that day.
The next day began warmly, like old friends reuniting over tea. Yet
the mood shifted oddly within a few minutes when Raphael Horo asked,
“what about the third secession?”
Panditji exploded, “There has been no other act of secession.
Partition is not secession. Yours is the only event of secession.”
Jaipal Singh immediately agreed that the question of Partition was
different from the tribal debate. But then added quietly, “what about
CPR?”
There was a sense of defeat on both sides. Both realized they had been
upstaged by history with capital H.
• Year of birth: 1871
• For tribals, only paper pledges
It was Patel who answered. “Travancore did not secede. C. P. Ramaswami
pledged total loyalty to India. CPR is not the Nizam. He is totally
Indian.”
It was one of the five who intervened. His name is not mentioned. He
said, “what if?” There was an incredulous silence. He said, “what if
ecology demanded that Kerala secede but allow its citizens to migrate
and work in India? Would India or Kerala have lost anything? With its
land reform, its openness to women, its social movements for temple
reform, it might be an alternative model to India.” Patel dismissed
the Marxists as a bunch of Brahmin boys. Munda noted that the original
description was Ambedkar’s.
Then Jaipal Singh began one of his longer speeches. He looked only at
Nehru and Patel. He said, “there is little you are offering us. The
Constitution is yours. The borders are yours. The sovereignty is
yours. The flag is yours. What is ours? What is that is both tribal
and Indian in the Constitution? What is the shared legacy, the common
weave? You have defined rights, the isms, the industry, the science,
let something be ours.” It was then that Nehru proposed that maybe
Singh could define Directive Principles of State Policy. Singh added
wryly, “Ah the non-justiciable part.” Nehru added, “It is a vision of
the future.” Munda said he liked the irony, “your past as your future,
our anthropology now as your science fiction.” Over the next two days,
the tribals wrote or itemized the dreams of the future into the
Directive Principles of State Policy.
The Kumarappa diaries mention that the debates around the DPSP became
one of the most vibrant dialogues about the future of India. What
struck him most was that tribals as an interest group did not begin
with their sense of victimhood, of wrongs to be righted, but of
democracy as a fundamental question.
The Kumarappa report indicates that the Chotanagpur five were excited
by the prospects of the exercise and adds that their discussions
provided one of the most interesting chapters of the new constituent
assembly debates. As Raphael Horo said later, “It is only when
anthropology confronts science fiction or when primitivism meets
robotics that the basic assumptions of a society begin to reveal
themselves.” One also understands the difference between pre-emptive
futures captive to old isms and the preferred futures, the song lines
of freedom. What remains today is the preamble the group wrote to the
Directive Principles.
The DPSP, they argued, was a gyroscope for the future, a sociological
litmus test, an early warning system telling you whether the
directions make sense. Horo, its principal author, began by
contending, “A constitution is a symbol of homecoming. It enfranchises
all those made homeless, made helpless by old laws. It is an
invitation to the marginal, the vulnerable, the outlaw, the dissenters
to experience the constitution as a dwelling, a place for multiple
beings and becomings. The future is only a possibility for
citizenship.”
The paradox of the Indian Constitution is that it disenfranchises
thrice. It disenfranchises, outlaws and negates the tribe. Its ideas
of sovereignty, its notion of the eminent domain assures the tribal or
the peasant has no access to the forest. He has no access to his
resources or a theatre for his cosmology. His food, his medicines, his
play all came from the forest but forest is no longer a commons. The
drama of common access and common maintenance is now over. It is the
ultimate paradox of anthropology where the native becomes outlaw in
his own land. We face the paradox of a constitution that criminalizes
its own citizens.
Munda notes added that the disenfranchisement of the marginal tribal
peasant was hidden in the abstractness and alleged universalism of the
Constitution. A constitution that floats in abstract time is
genocidal. Worse, it has no memory of its own executions as it fails
to record the logic of its own erasures. The group feels that all
constitutions that float in abstract time are cosmically homeless. A
constitution must embody multiple time – the time of the nomad, the
seasonal time of pastoral groups, the time of agriculture and women’s
time. The DPSP is a ganglion of times that connects to official
constitution based on clock time. Clock time for the constitution is
both empty and necrophilic.
The ecological embedding of the constitution needs not only an
embedding in time, but in the life-worlds of its people. A
constitution can’t only deal with life in the abstract as a system. It
has to connect life, life world, life cycle, livelihood, lifestyle to
the life chances of the people. To speak of electricity and nuclear
power in the world of the forest is lethally paradoxical.
A constitution cannot tacitly speak the language of an official
science. If every citizen is a man of knowledge, then the constitution
must be a referendum of multiple knowledges. The citizen is not an
object of science. Instead, every man must be seen as a scientist,
every village a science academy.
To officialize western science is to pre-empt a future. It privileges
the synthetic fertilizer over the earthworm and all the other
organisms that make life possible. It is a constitution that
privileges taxidermy over life. We understand the dreams of science
but we demand it understands other forms of knowledge not in the
museum or the laboratory but in the domain of life.
Given the gigantic technological projects emerging around roads,
factories, dams, the old panchayat of consensus and participation is
not adequate. We need a new concept that brings the tribe, the
policeman, the healer, the shamam, the doctor, the psychiatrist, the
vaid and the hakim into a conversation of knowledges. But a mere
dialogue is not enough. We suggest the new concept of cognitive
justice, the right of different knowledges to co-exist and thrive
together. Medical policy then must reflect the grammar of these
different notions of suffering, health and healing. The pluralism of
ecological, medical, agricultural systems may not survive without
cognitive justice.
A technological project is not an act of innocence. But it needs a new
democracy of vigilance. We propose:
* That human rights teams be attached to every project.
* That every project be subject to rules of transparency.
* That the methodology of doubt and skepticism that science made
famous be applied to every project beginning with the Damodar Valley
Corporation.
* That each project be subject to referendum and occasional recall.
* That the language of evaluation should be also in the language of
subjects, their notions of memory, their ideas of well being, their
sense of fairness.
After the meeting
The Kumarappa documents end with this fragment. Legend has it that
there was a longer extract focusing on the everyday-ness of culture,
politics and technology. When the documents came up for discussion,
the beginning of the end was clear. The Gandhians and socialists and
the Marxists treated it with contempt. The document lacked the Linus
blanket of progress. It appeared like a letter from another world.
Both Nehru and Sardar were too preoccupied with the Partition. Sardar
had become more Bismarckian than ever refusing any negotiation on the
nation-state, “We need a copy book nation. If I allow you the freedom
to experiment, the whole of the north east would go on fire.” Nehru
struck a different chord echoing the other half of Sardar’s mind. He
said, “the partition has been too traumatic. Over one million people
dead and 16 million people displaced. We need time to heal” he begged.
The rest sympathized but Horo blurted, “one day you will create more
refugees from your dam projects. DVC will be an epidemic”. But there
was a sense of defeat on both sides. Both realized they had been
upstaged by history with capital H. The legal expert Rafael Lemkin had
just coined the word Genocide to refer to the holocaust. Partition,
everyone realized, could be the invisible Holocaust.
The meeting broke down soon after. Nehru and Sardar had joined the
costume ball of the state. Governance has its dramas which are
demanding. Jaipal Singh and Munda returned to wait as Nehru advised.
But the opportunity never came. Sometimes tragedy is a drama whose
time never comes. All it leaves is the salty stale bitter taste of
irony of a forgotten people.
Rememberance
Of the Chotanagpur five, only one remains alive, Raphael Horo. He left
soon after the meetings for a small college town in the United States
to teach anthropology. Horo had built a tremendous reputation as a
linguist. His dictionaries were standard work.
I bumped into him at a conference. He sensed my presence, deftly
moving away and foiling my first attempts at meeting him. I ambushed
him over coffee one afternoon and asked him about his reflections.
There was no bitterness in what he said. It was almost as if history
was a trickster from whom we must learn. “Independence was a time for
hope. We were like kids at Christmas, each leaving his socks out
hoping for his own version of freedom. I guess we realize independence
is not freedom. It is like space and place. Independence is like
space. It is official. Freedom is a place, it needs to be built again
and again.” He paused and suddenly asked, “Have you been to
Jamshedpur, the home of Tata Steel. I used to watch the Dalma hills
where my tribe used to practice Jhum, setting fire to the forest. It
was a stupendous, almost mythical blaze. On one side of the hills, you
could see the forest on fire and on the other, the Tata factories
pouring slag down their huge factory mounds. Two fires, two modes of
creativity and for a while I thought they were balanced. After all
there was the kinship of iron and steel within us.”
“It did not work.” There was a silence, a thoughtful one as if Horo
was collecting the right word. “It was a victory of stereotypes. The
government read us as a bundle of complaints, a trade union of tribal
rights and interests, but we were not interested in being interest
groups of foisting victimology. We wanted to join the festival called
freedom, offer our ideas, our philosophies, our vision of India, but
we had already been museumized or criminalized. We went as
philosophers and were dismissed as savages.”
“Have you read the Brundtland* report? It is supposed to be on
sustainable development, on energy. It is bowdlerised idiocy. There is
more sustainability in Jhum, in shifting cultivation, that in the
entire report. If Brundtland is the Charles Lamb, shifting cultivation
is a Shakespearian drama of sustainability.”
He laughed and shrugged. “Take care,” he said.
I never met him again. ⊕
Shiv Visvanathan
14 Nov 2006
Shiv Vishwanathan is a sociologist based in Ahmedabad. He teaches at
Dhirubhai Ambani Institute of Infortmation and Communication
Technology. This article is the text of the 2006 Verrier Elwin lecture
organized by the Bhasha Research and Publications Centre. The lecture
was delivered in the form of historical fiction. Both the meeting
descibed herein and its report attributed to J C Kumarappa are
fictional and not real historical events.
* The Brundtland report is the report of the UN World Commission on
Environment and Development (1987), chaired by Gro Harlem Brundtland.
Comments (4)
* Posted by G.K.Subbarayudu,
Fascinating. One India or Many? The question is better issuized here
than in other sub-national discussions. For the first time, I see the
issue as larger than political ideologies of region, language,
religion, caste, class, community which were hell-bent on trivializing
sub-nationalisms for limited gain. What this post shows is that the
way forward is for India to have a more expansive and responsive
political attitude to what are essentially cultural differences.
Homogenising is a restrictive practice that fuels conflict. The
flowing movements adduced here are more likely to keep an India
together with minimum friction than the hardened borders of
constitutional delimitation. Thoughts of uniform codes by politically
motivated groups must be dumped . Let code-mixing happen in a more
natural time-frame than the artificial, legislated, majoritarian,
insistent ones adopted by politicized hustlers.Political objectives
should not be allowed to override and hasten cultural flows and
directions.
I am not sure I am saying anything with any degree of clarity. What I
do know is I am beginning to see something refracting, and my
certainties will no longer be self-validating.
Thanks .
Sincerely
Subbu
* Posted by sipra mukherjee,
Fascinating. A land furore happening in bengal’s singur right now that
carries the same echoes – whose land? whose government? who decides?
But what is interesting – perhaps heart-sinkingly disappointing – is
that even the sound of these echoes is beginning to get distanced from
reality. Do the sounds that reach us emanate from the mouths of the
natives, – or the political parties? Or is it a case of appropriation
of the native protest by the political leaders? It is impossible to
say any more. The stereotypes seem to have taken over here too.
* Posted by Anil,
superb piece indeed, it very beautifully takes us to a differnt level
of understanding which needs to be understood especially in thses
turbulant times when the prophecies are coming true. In fact I am of a
firm belief that indigenous people’s ways of society offers a
sustainable development model.
only thing that keeps me wondering is how can the author say only one
is alive as Our very own Ram Dayal Munda is very much alive.
* Posted by Ranjeet,
Great reading! And what to say about the vision of these Great Adivasi
leaders! But the sad part is that though a tribal’s drink may be a
part of his being, his identity, his festivals, his celebrations of
life, there can be no arguments that it also has proved to be the
downfall of many promising, Jaipal Singh included.
More to follow...
...and I am Sid Harth
India’s Superpower Euphoria CXCI
http://cogitoergosum.co.cc/2011/01/10/indias-superpower-euphoria-cxci/
10 01 11 Written by navanavonmilita
India Together: Adivasis
Un-shining India
The struggle in Kashipur against mining in sacred adivasi lands is
just one example of an India we cannot forget, says Kalpana Sharma.
Economic progress comes at a cost. But we can still ask whether the
cost has to be borne by people who will never see the benefits of such
progress.
December 2004 – Why do we feel a sense of relief when the year comes
to an end and celebrate the dawn of the New Year? Surely when the year
has been good, you should feel sad that it has ended. And perhaps
apprehensive that the year to come will not be so good. Whatever our
feelings, the close of the year makes at least some people pause and
think about the year that is about to end, about its highs and its
lows.
2004 has been a year of change for us in India, most principally
because of the change of government at the Centre. The hype around
“India Shining” has disappeared. But the India Un-shining has not yet
registered. For the first part of the year, we thought only of
politics and elections. Once that episode ended, and also government
formation, our attention shifted elsewhere. Now we have the property
battles of the wealthy, the Birlas and the Ambanis, the public
behaviour of the famous, like the recent Shahid-Kareena episode, and
the court battles of religious figures, like the murder charges
against the head of the Kanchi Mutt that dominate the news. And, of
course, the antics of the rebellious women in the out-of-power
Bharatiya Janata Party, Uma Bharati and Smriti Irani. In between all
these media preoccupations, there is not much space or time left to
report on what is happening in the other India, the one that is not
shining.
So spare a thought as the year ends to the adivasis of Kashipur in
Orissa. The State appears and disappears from the news. It appears
when there is tragedy, flood, drought, cyclone. It disappears when no
such natural or man-made calamity kills and maims hundreds of
thousands. The fact that regardless of major tragedies, there are
minor disasters occurring almost every day in Orissa is not the stuff
of headline news.
Orissa is poor, but it is also incredibly rich. Beneath its luxuriant
forests, inhabited mostly by the adivasis who form 22 per cent of the
population, lies a huge store of precious minerals. Orissa has 70 per
cent of all the bauxite found in India, the sixth largest deposit in
the world. It also has 90 per cent of India’s chrome ore and nickel
and 24 per cent of its coal. Multinational mining companies have long
been making a beeline for the State mostly to invest in the mining
industry. Despite its poverty, Orissa is amongst the top 10 States to
attract Foreign Direct Investment.
Yet, if you ask an adivasi woman or man what they think about all
this, they will tell you that they are not impressed. They do not like
the idea of their sacred mountain being carved up by a mining company
to extract the mineral that lies beneath. They do not care to be
forced to leave their ancestral lands and forests to be relocated in
cement boxes that are supposed to be their new, “modern” homes, which
they are told to accept gratefully as symbols of “progress”.
From December 1 to 16, hundreds of adivasis, mainly women, have been
demonstrating against the company determined to mine bauxite in the
Kashipur block of Rayagada district. These people have fought against
the mining company for 12 years and have successfully blocked access
to Baphlimali, a sacred mountain that is the site of the mine.
“No one, I repeat no one will be allowed to stand in the way of
Orissa’s industrialisation and the people’s progress”.
- Chief Minister Naveen Patnaik
Four years ago, on December 16, three young men were killed in police
firing when hundreds gathered to oppose the project. Four years later,
the mine remains a lure for multinationals. Despite the withdrawal of
the Norwegian company Norsk Hydro, Canadian multinational Alcan
remains in this joint venture with Indal as part of the Rs. 4,000
crore Utkal Alumina International Limited (UAIL). The people however
continue to oppose the project while the government is determined to
push it through. “No one, I repeat no one will be allowed to stand in
the way of Orissa’s industrialisation and the people’s progress”, the
Orissa Chief Minister Naveen Patnaik told an Oriya TV news channel on
December 4.
And to prove his point, the police lathi-charged a peaceful gathering
of adivasis protesting against the project and marking the anniversary
of the police firing of 2000. Sixteen people including three women
were injured. Such news has become so commonplace that it failed to
make the national news although one hopes that at least the local
papers in Orissa reported it. I looked in vain in a number of
newspapers, including one that circulates in the east, and found not
even one paragraph on this protest.
The struggle in Kashipur is just one example of India Un-shining, an
India we cannot forget. Economic progress comes at a cost. But we can
still ask whether the cost has to be borne by people who will never
see the benefits. Displacement for the adivasis of Kashipur will mean,
inevitably, them joining the ranks of the urban poor. And as we know
in Mumbai, there is no welcome awaiting them in our cities. On the
contrary, they have been labelled “outsiders”. Even if they manage to
find a spot to live and some work, they will soon face demolition and
displacement, not unlike what they are fighting against in Kashipur.
Can one blame them if they prefer to stay where they are and fight it
out?
As the year ends, we can certainly celebrate the progress India has
made, the recognition it is getting for some of its skills.
We can also applaud a government that is moving in the direction of
recognising the rights of the poor to work and of women to an equal
inheritance. Yet, we cannot forget that large parts of India still lag
behind in basic social indicators such as education and health, that
the male-female sex ratio is a scandal, that violence against women
continues unabated, and that the disempowered, like the adivasis of
Kashipur, continue to fight an unequal battle for their rights. ⊕
Kalpana Sharma
December 2004
Kalpana Sharma is Chief of the Mumbai Bureau and Deputy Editor with
The Hindu, and a regular contributor to India Together. Her opinions,
which appear in a regular column with The Hindu, are concurrently
published on India Together with permission.
Do reservations work?
A number of researchers in economics have started to look closely at
political reservations. In one recent instance, Professor Rohini Pande
of Yale University has found that reservations in state legislatures
do increase influence in policy-making for scheduled castes and
tribes. Tarun Jain reports.
15 April 2005 – In an editorial last year, India Together argued in
favour of reservations for lower castes. In their piece, Ashwin Mahesh
and Subramaniam Vincent commented on the reasons we have reservations.
Affirmative action policies they argued not only directly benefit
lower castes through higher incomes, but have a larger impact on
public policies when individuals from lower castes are given a voice
in the decision making process. Other commentators on these pages have
followed a similar line of reasoning. For instance, when advocating
for reservation of Parliament seats for women, Kalpana Sharma writes
that “there is a greater chance of mainstreaming women’s concerns if
there are more women in positions of power from where these concerns
can be addressed.”
“Are reservations working?” ask Mahesh and Vincent, who say that the
impact of reservations on public policy would be most visible in
legislatures and panchayats. Despite their arguments, none of these
writers are able to provide any evidence that the legislators, once
elected, actually behave in ways expected of them. The complexity of
the political system means that there are a number of ways in which
legislators get impeded in their work. The legal scholar Upendra Baxi
argues that SC and ST legislators need to appeal both to upper-caste
constituents in reserved jurisdictions and to the primarily upper-
caste membership of their parties. Also, the dynamics of political
parties and bargaining within legislatures can dull activism of
individual legislators in favour of their communities. Or MLAs and MPs
might simply concentrate on increasing their own wealth and not care
about their constituents at all. Kalpana Sharma, perhaps thinking
about the behaviour of Indira Gandhi, Mayawati, Rabri, and other women
in power, writes that “there is no guarantee that [women’s
reservation] in itself will make a difference to the status of women
in the country.” These are prescient words, for casual empirics do not
explain what has been the actual result of political reservations in
India.
When casual empirics fail, perhaps it is time for a more rigorous
approach. A number of researchers in economics have started to look
closely at political reservations, both for lower castes and tribes
and for women in India. In an important paper published in the
American Economic Review in 2003, Professor Rohini Pande of Yale
University asked if reservations in state legislatures increased
influence in policy-making for scheduled castes and tribes. She
concluded that they did, and backed up this assertion by presented
evidence of targeted redistribution policies passed by SC and ST
legislators.
Legal identification of Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes
Selection criteria for scheduled castes
1. Cannot be served by clean Brahmans
2. Cannot be served by the barbers, water-carriers, tailors, etc. who
serve the caste Hindus
3. Pollutes a high-caste Hindu by contact or by proximity
4. Is one from whose hands a caste Hindu cannot take water
5. Is debarred from using public amenities such as roads, ferries,
wells, or schools
6. Will not be treated as an equal by high-caste men of the same
educational qualification in ordinary social intercourse
7. Is depressed on account of the occupation followed and, but for
that, occupation would be subject to no social disability
Selection criteria for scheduled tribes
1. Tribal origin
2. Primitive ways of life and habitation in remote and less accessible
areas
3. General backwardness in all respects
Source: Constitution of India
For her analysis, Pande exploits a particular feature of the Indian
representative set-up. Each state legislature has seats reserved for
SC and ST candidates, but the proportion of seats varies by state.
There are more seats for states with higher proportion of SC and ST
population, and vice versa. Also, between 1950 and 1980, the seat
allocations kept changing as new data from the census became
available. So these variations allow Pande to compare the policies in
states with higher SC and ST representation to those with lower SC and
ST reservation.
Increasing SC reservation does not have a significant impact on
general spending policies such as total spending, spending on
education or land reforms. However, it has a significant impact on
targeted spending policies. • Women’s representation
• The merit of reservations
• Caste: Don’t ask, don’t tell
Pande’s results show that reservations impact different groups
differently, depending on the policy. Increasing SC reservation does
not have a significant impact on general spending policies such as
total spending, spending on education or land reforms. However, it has
a significant impact on targeted spending policies. Increasing
reservations by 1% increases job quotas for SCs by 0.6%, but does not
affect spending on SC welfare schemes. This split between general and
targeted policies sits well with the social structure of these groups.
Compared to STs, SCs are well educated but geographically distributed,
so they rely on individual specific schemes such as job quotas. An SC
legislator who advocates group-specific policies cannot be sure that
they will actually be used by the community that she or he wants to
target.
In contrast, ST reservations have an impact on a broader range of
spending policies. Increasing ST reservation by 1% decreases spending
on education by 0.4%, but increases spending on tribal welfare schemes
by 0.8%. Again, this matches what we know about tribal communities in
India. They are remote from the major population centres yet live
cohesively. So they are able to take advantage of and prefer group-
specific programs over individual-specific ones.
Pande’s research is one of the first threads in an emerging literature
on the behaviour of elected representatives in office. In 2004,
Professors Raghabendra Chattopadhyay of IIM Calcutta and Esther Duflo
of MIT published their research on the impact of reservations for
women in panchayats, specifically looking at Rajasthan and West
Bengal. Their analysis pointed to important differences in policies
enacted by panchayats headed by women and men, debunking the myth that
women sarpanches are puppets controlled by men. Even in panchayats
with “unassertive” women as sarpanches, the presence of a woman in a
position of authority often inspired other women in the Gram Sabha to
speak up, changing the dynamic of village policy making.
In another 2004 study, Professors Tim Besley, Rohini Pande, Lupin
Rahman and Vijayendra Rao found that if the Sarpanch position is
reserved for person from a Scheduled Caste or Tribe, then SC or ST
households are 7% more likely to have access to a toilet, an
electricity connection, or a private water connection via a government
scheme.
Among economists, the debate on the merits of reservations is just
beginning. The precise relationship between political power and policy
implementation is still not clear. And there are a number of
unresolved issues for everyone involved.
For political parties, there is a concern how political reservation
would change the people being elected to Vidhan Sabhas, and the
ideologies and policies they would back. Could this change be
significant enough to change the top leadership of the party and
government? If the change is perceived as minor enough, perhaps
existing legislators could be convinced to vote in favour of more
reservation, which includes women.
Finally, voters themselves must be concerned with reservation. How
does their involvement in the political process change as a result?
Does voter turnout increase or decrease when only certain kinds of
candidates can stand for elections? And how can voters signal
political support for or in opposition to reservation? Answering these
questions is a collaborative exercise. Social scientists bring their
best tools to understand what society is saying, but first the people
must themselves debate and decide their preferences. Hopefully the
results of reservations in the past will inform both the debate and
the decision. ⊕
Tarun Jain
15 Apr 2005
Tarun Jain is a Ph.D student at the University of Virginia,
Charlottesville.
References
1. Pande, Rohini (2003) “Can Mandated Political Representation Provide
Disadvantaged Minorities Policy Influence? Theory and Evidence from
India” American Economic Review, Vol. 93 (4), pp. 1132-1151.
2. Chattopadhyay, Raghabendra and Esther Duflo (2004) “Women as Policy
Makers: Evidence from a Randomized Policy Experiment in India,”
Econometrica 72 (5), pp. 1409-1443.
3. Besley, Timothy, Rohini Pande, Lupin Rahman and Vijayendra Rao
(2004) “The Politics of Public Good Provision: Evidence from Indian
Local Governments” Journal of European Economic Association Papers and
Proceedings, Vol. 2, 2/3, pp. 416-426.
4 years old, miles to go
Tribals constitute 32 per cent of Chhatisgarh’s population. Yet, four
years after the state was born, the status of the tribal population
does not seem to be improving. At a recent meeting in the state, a
network of journalists and activists took stock of the situation.
Surekha Sule reports.
01 May 2005 – Like an aspirant young couple separated from the joint
family, citizens of four year old Chhatisgarh too dream of an ideal
home carved out of the larger state of Madhya Pradesh. Seventy five
Chhatisgarhis (calling themselves ’36garhi’) gave vent to their
feelings at a “Dream Chhatisgarh Meeting”. They met in the forests of
Barnavapara in Mahasamunda district during April 7-9. I attended this
meeting. The participants are part of a larger e-group on the internet
called Chhatisgarh-net.
Dream they did, but with feet firmly on the ground reality. This
reality continues to be as summed up in following verses by the well
known Hindi poet and novelist, Vinod Kumar Shukla.
A lone tribal girl
is not scared of dense forest.
But she is scared to go to
Geedam’s market to sell
Mahua flowers.
It’s a market day!
With basketful of Mahua
on the head or the shoulder
these simple tribal(girl)s walk down
the hill & gather near a tree
to go ‘together’ to the market!
A discussion session is on at the meeting. Pic: Aman Namra.
The reality still includes many custodial deaths too. Goldie George of
Dalit Mukti Morcha told me about a boy who was caught by the police.
His crime was that he was carrying a few sticks collected from the
jungle. The authorities charged him with ‘stealing forest resources’!
The boy was detained by the police and beaten up. For his release,
George reports that police asked the parents to cough up a ‘ransom’.
They could not afford it, so the boy was beaten up till he died.
Another case is of the journalist Akshay Thakur who brings out from
Rajnandgaon, a local Hindi newspaper which criticizes the
establishment and gives voice to the downtrodden. He was implicated in
a fabricated case of printing naxal handouts to instigate tribals.
After 23 months in jail along with his five other journalist
colleagues, he was lucky to win the case and all were released. But no
such luck for over 2000-3000 similar false cases against poor tribals
and dalits charging them as naxalites. Their crime! They raise their
voices against the corrupt police or greedy jungle contractors.
For ages, tribal people and forests have complemented each other in
India. Tribals have taken as much as they need from the jungle and
given back, perhaps in a way that no economic theory has ever looked
at. For generations tribals in the Chhatisgarh region have lived on
collecting forest produce like Mahua, Tendu leaves, variety of tree
bark & resin and so on. But markets started intervening and the tribal-
jungle relationship as well as trade changed. With the entry of agents
and intermediaries began the never-ending saga of exploitation of
tribals followed by repression.
“Tomorrow, if a foreign company claims rights over a research of a
variety, a mere search on Google will produce my article exposing
their IPR claim,” says Pankaj Oudhia of Botanical.com. • Chhatisgarh
media : new and old
• Chhatisgarh rice bowl loss
Suddenly the new forest law tells them that such collection is illegal
and asks them to produce evidence of their right to live on their
land. A forest guard took some 107 adivasis’ thumb impression saying
their 300 acre land is being regularized but actually the land was
given to develop a nursery. Such incidences of outright cheating of
tribals are rampant. And these all were the very reasons for naxal
uprising which is strongest in Bastar. It is not for no reason that
the tribals resist forest and police departments who they feel are
filled with are outsiders, exploiting them.
Tribals constitute 32 per cent of Chhatisgarh’s population. Yet, four
years after the state was born, the status of the tribal population
does not seem to be improving. At the meeting, participants began from
how and why Chhatisgarh was created, how the Chhatisgarh-net e-group
was mooted by its coordinator and former BBC journalist Shubhranshu
Chowdhury and went to discuss a variety of issues related to
agriculture, water, tribal & forest, naxalites, dalits, industry &
power, mining, social development and the media situation.
Chhatisgarh was carved out of a part of Central India inhabited for
centuries by tribals – and rich in natural resources. The region is
famous for its biodiversity — rice varieties and medicinal herbs. One
of the early controversies was over rice varieties. 20000 indigenous
varieties of rice seeds had been painstakingly collected by the famous
rice researcher, the late Dr. Richaria. Richaria had documented each
rice seed variety in minute detail from the tribal farmers. There was
an outcry on the suspicion that top scientists from Chhatisgarh’s
Indira Gandhi Krishi Vidyalaya (IGKV) were going to sell this
information to agribusiness multinational Syngenta. The fear was the
traditional knowledge of Chhatisgarh’s farmers would loose out to
private intellectual property rights.
Dr Richaria’s collection of rice germ plasm has not been put into
public domain despite public opinion and media outcry. This worries
activists and vigilant Chhatisgarhis who would like to take action to
prevent private interests from accessing these seeds. But
establishment secrecy on the goings-on is the dilemma of the 36garhis.
How to fight an unseen enemy? 36garh e-group member Jacob Nellithanam
is an activist and expert on rice farming in Chhatisgarh. He appealed
for the formation of pressure groups to save the situation in the
state where 80 per cent of cultivable land is under rice and 90 per
cent population depends on the agriculture.
Sensing similar danger from another private firm to the traditional
knowledge of Chhatisgarh’ s simple, poor and illiterate people, Pankaj
Oudhia – an e-36garh group member and renowned agronomist – has taken
upon himself a mammoth mission. He is single-handedly documenting
Chhatisgarh’s varieties of medicinal herbs numbering over a lakh,
talking to the local people who know about these varieties, their
characteristics and their usefulness.
Over last four years, Oudhia has uploaded about 12000 such
documentation on www.botanical.com and to meet his objective of 1 lakh
such documents going on to the public domain in his life time, Oudhia
goes on at an astonishing speed of three such documentation a day plus
one or two articles for Hindi media for mass circulation. “Tomorrow,
if a foreign company claims rights over a research of a variety, a
mere search on Google will produce my article exposing their IPR
claim,” says Oudhia.
Adivasis performing a traditional dance at the meeting. Pic: Aman
Namra.
There is also the famous case of a stretch of Shivnath river in
Chhatisgarh given to a private company. This was first documented by
e-36garh member Arun Singh. In Raigarh district, three rivers were to
be similarly ‘privatised’, but the government did not go forward
because resistance from the people. The Shivnath issue is in the
Courts and is subjudice. Farmers took loans to dig bore wells but
private firms dug deeper rendering 15-20 villages without water.
Farmers now fear that hundreds of villages will run out of water.
Industries digging deeper and taking away water are also causing
pollution in the region. The pollution is taking its toll reflecting
on 30 per cent less of Mahua flower produce – a main livelihood source
of the tribals.
The making of the Chhatisgarh state actually never had tribal issue as
the central issue and unlike Uttaranchal and Jharkhand, Chhatisgarh
was not born out of people’s agitation demanding separate statehood.
It came much easily and because of political compulsions. Tribal
welfare was a suitable guise for fulfilling political aspirations. The
non-tribal view is that the tribal should retain their independent
identity. Hence on the topic of tribal welfare and development, the
talk veers away towards meaningless issues like searching for
alternate systems for the tribals, instead of the real issues related
to the lacuna in the mainstream system, says an e-36garh member, Sudip
Thakur, a Delhi based journalist.
Thakur raised pertinent questions like whether just making a separate
state amounted to giving control in the hands of tribals, or whether
the administration was going to truly take cognizance of tribal
problems. What is the role of the tribals in the development of this
state which is so rich in natural resources? Is it not high time to
change our scientific understanding taking into account the reality
about tribals? Otherwise how long are you going to make them dance in
their traditional attire in the Republic Day Parade, quips Thakur.
The failure tribal politicians elected through reservations to get
justice for their people must be seen together with the fact that
naxalite rule is now strong in Bastar and Rajnandgaon of Chhatisgarh.
Thakur says that whatever the outcome of debate on jungle-tribal
relationship, they will never get justice unless they get greater
partnership in political power. Though there is reservation in
assembly and parliament, this very provision is used as a strong
political weapon. Even when some adivasis have gotten politically
powerful, they have been sucked into the system and have not done
justice to their brethren. The naxalite rule strongly in Bastar and
Rajnandgaon of Chhatisgarh and make their land immune to outside
influence. But in areas where no outsider can dare to enter, e-36garh
member Ruchir Garg – editor of Deshbandhu – a local paper — went in
several times to study their life and working style.
The knowledge and experience rich e-36garh members communicate online
everyday and spread the news and views on Chhatisgarh. Alok Putul –
resident editor of Deshbandhu, Aman Namra – editor of Charkha and
Shubhranshu Chowdhury send daily updates. The medium is evolving into
an effective alternate digital media that has potential to act as
pressure group and a watchdog. Media outside Chhatisgarh could use the
postings on this group to know more about this little, new state. The
group has plans to launch a website as well.
* * *
Chattisgarh-net is an internet e-group. Archives of messages and
discussions are public. At the time of writing this report, the list
had 324 members. Groups.yahoo.com/group/chhattisgarh-net. ⊕
Surekha Sule
01 May 2005
Surekha Sule is a freelance journalist and an environmentalist based
in Mumbai, and a Media Fellow of the Ministry of Water Resources of
the Government of India. The Chhatisgarh-net group had invited her to
the April’05 meeting.
Nomads together
A National Convention of Nomads and Adivasis was organized last month
in Delhi. This was perhaps one of the first attempts to give a unified
political voice for Adivasi and Nomadic communities in India. G. N.
Devy writes on the efforts to make this convention happen, and its
import.
23 May 2005 – Nomadic communities, wrongly notified during the
colonial times as ‘criminal communities’, found the earliest
expression of their agony in the report of a reform committee headed
by Antrolikar on the eve of India’s independence. But the issue had to
wait for a voice till Marathi writers like Laxman Mane and Laxman
Gaikwad came up with their life-stories in the early eighties. These
writings were initially seen as ‘experimental dalit writing’ by
readers of Marathi literature. Nomadic communities in the states
outside Maharashtra did not find similar spokespersons.
My attention was drawn to the enormous scale of the problem – there
are nearly six crores of denotified and nomadic ‘citizens’ in India!
And when, together, we founded the Denotified and Nomadic Communities
Rights Action Group in 1998, I found to my utter surprise and dismay
that even the most enlightened of the progressive sections of Indian
society had barely been aware of the plight of India’s nomads.
Invariably one had seen the Banjaras and heard of the Pardhis, but one
was not aware that these had been victims of a hugely discriminatory
law, the Criminal Tribes Act, subsequently replaced by the Habitual
Offenders Act. Therefore, bringing the denotified and the nomads of
India together was not an easy task.
I was convinced from the beginning of the struggle that the denotified
and the nomads have to make common cause with other tribal communities
from the adivasi groups and the pastoralist communities such as the
Bharwads and the Dhangars in order to be effective in even a small
measure, and mainly because numbers matter in democracies with a weak
fabric of social justice holding it together. But, bringing the
nomadic, pastoralist and adivasi communities together has not been an
enviable matter. One imagines, in a theoretically loaded discussion
room, that being marginalised the communities would be all ripe and
ready to fall within a single basket of a marginalised class; but the
differences between them are quite stupendous.
The denotified communities have been asking for a Third Schedule, and
think of the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes as far more
fortunate. Adivasis have, even in a small measure, an acre or two of
their own, even when its legal title has been a matter of dispute
between the Forest Department and the Revenue Department. Adivasis
have a profound equation with the land of their habitation going back
to times beyond one’s memory; the nomads have neither the land nor the
relationship of any lasting nature. The nomadic world-view is unique.
The pastoralists have a completely different set of issues surrounding
their lives. They have a large movable property in their cows and
sheep, but the grazing land traditionally available to them has been
rapidly shrinking. These are relatively prosperous communities forced
in our time to shift their occupations. Jal, jungle, jhamin are the
central concerns for the adivasis, livelihood and food security,
social respect and legal protection are the crucial issues with
denotified and nomadic communities, and respect for non-sedentary
cultures is the main preoccupation with the pastoralists.
I tried to bring them together several times during the last decade,
and met with failure every time I made the attempt. Twice, in Delhi,
we had meetings of representatives of these three sections, once at
the India International Centre, with speakers such as Ashis Nandy and
Justice M N Venkatachaliah, and another time at the Constitution Club
with Mahashweta Devi herself to guide our footsteps. These meetings
progressed well till the concluding sessions; yet, in the conclusion
differences took over similarities. The common cause theory failed
disastrously.
Therefore, before making yet another attempt, my colleagues in Bhasha
and I had long consultations, lasting almost over a year, and decided
that we would approach the matter more through cultural practices than
through political aspirations of the communities. However, we felt
that a mere cultural mela would amount to a cruel travesty of the
agony and suffering of the adivasis, nomads and pastoralists.
Therefore, we put forward the proposition that “the primary mission of
the predatory state is sedentarisation of the subject.” Nomads and
pastoralists responded to this premise very enthusiastically, and the
adivasis decided to join in on the plank of the state’s being
predatory and, therefore, self-aggrandising.
After we came up with this formulation, we had a series of discussions
with the Adivasi Ekta Parishad, which has an impressive spread in
Rajasthan, Madhya Pradesh, Maharashtra and Gujarat, and the newly
formed DNT network under the title Lokdhara, which has started
energising the DNTs in Maharashtra. My own Bhasha Centre contacted
adivasis in the north-east, Orissa, Assam, Chhattisgarh and Jharkhand,
as well as my colleagues in the now ceased DNT-rights action group.
They responded promptly. Besides, of the hundred and forty NGOs
working with tribals who had come to Tejgadh last November for the
Tribal Policy Conference, were contacted. In about eight weeks of
campaigning, we found that about two thousand individuals were
prepared to participate in a convention, should such a convention be
held. When we approached Dr. Kalyan Kumar Chakravarty of Indira Gandhi
National Centre for the Arts in Delhi, he more than welcomed the idea
of so many numerous communities coming together at the IGNCA campus
with their dances, theatre, musical instruments, life-styles,
traditional knowledge, medicinal systems, and so on. This is how the
first ever National Convention of Nomads and Adivasis was organised at
the IGNCA from 21 to 24 April this year.
We put forward the proposition that “the primary mission of the
predatory state is sedentarisation of the subject.” Nomads and
pastoralists responded to this premise very enthusiastically
The format of the Convention provided space for every participant to
express herself or himself. The mornings and afternoons were devoted
to discussions on resources, rights, cultural identities, legal and
social justice, constitutional and human rights, and gender equality.
The early hours of evenings were given to special lectures in which
practically every major tribal/nomadic activist was present; and the
evenings were left open for cultural expression of every manner.
Delhi, and India, had never before seen Medha Patkar, B. D. Sharma,
Pradip Prabhu, Ashok Choudhary, Balkrishna Renke, Ram Guha, Ramanika
Gupta, and Justice M N Venkatachaliah come together on a common
platform. I wish I had been able to get there C. K. Janu, Kishore Sant
and Ram Dayal Munda, who were not there for logistical reasons. Even
Gadar had given his consent, and Mahashweta Devi had sent a special
message for the Convention from her hospital bed in Kolkata.
The desire to come together was clearly the dominant note in the
Convention. But, as expected, the drive for unity was sustained by the
amazing show of cultural diversity seen in the dances, theatre,
acrobatics, music, rituals and everything that was put on that
remarkable and magnificent display by the adivasis and nomads of
India. In terms of documented materials alone, the IGNCA had gathered
a pile of about three hundred hours of cultural and social
documentation.
The numbers need to be understood in their proper context. When an
adivasi or a nomad travels to Delhi from his or her village or basti,
the expenses involved sometimes cross the ability of that person to
earn over a period of several months. Their days in a conference such
as this one count back home as days of no-income. It is at a great
personal cost that such delegates participate in such conferences. To
have fifteen hundred delegates for the Convention, therefore,
expressed a nation-wide and deep seated desire of the adivasis, nomads
and pastoralists to be seen as belonging together where their cultural
identities are not threatened, where they can express themselves
without being intimidated into a ‘single’ class as ‘subjects’
victimised by the predatory state whose mission of sedentarisation has
marginalised the resource base of these communities.
Nomads together with adivasis in Delhi’s Convention in April, have, in
my opinion, spelt out the beginning of a new chapter in the history of
social struggles in India.
Ganesh Devy
23 May 2005
Dr. Ganesh N. Devy is founder trustee of Bhasha Research and
Publication Center in Baroda.
Remote adivasis face health care chasm
Despite crores of rupees having been spent in name of tribal and other
development programmes in one block of Palakkad district in Kerala,
the region suffers from poor access to decent health care. 80 per cent
of the adivasi population here are living in abject poverty. M
Suchitra reports.
25 July 2005 – The afternoon is hot. Pappa sits in the shade of a tree
in front of her mud-thatched hut holding her baby close to her bosom.
The child is groaning with high fever. Pappa is only thirty years, but
looks much older. Thin with a pale face and tired eyes, she is an
agricultural labourer, earning Rs 40-50 per day. She has five
children.
Ill and impoverished. A tribal mother and her child, Sholayur
panchayat. Pic: T Mohandas.
All the five times, Pappa delivered her baby at home. She worked until
her labour pain reached its peak. When she felt that it was about time
for the baby to come out she would stop work, get into the hut and
squat in the dark dingy room. Then the expectant mother would hold on
to the knotted rope that was hung from the ceiling for strength. Pappa
delivered all her babies squatting. There had never been any one to
attend to her during delivery. Each time, she cut the umbilical cord
herself, bathed the baby herself and buried the afterbirth herself.
“To stop the bleeding from the umbilical cord all you have to do is to
pour some kerosene oil on it and then put some dough on it. If that
isn’t enough, you can also put some talcum powder,” the mother of five
says with all the assurance of a doctor. Asked why not go to a
hospital for delivery, Pappa answers with another query. “Why should
anyone go to hospital for delivery? They don’t do things our way. You
have to lie down to deliver your babies there!”
In April 2006, M Suchitra was named the Development Journalist of the
year at the Developing Asia Journalism awards, for this article in
India Together. Click here to see more.
This mother and her children belong to the Muduga tribe, and live in
Varagampadi Ooru (a colony) in Sholayur Gram Panchayat in Attappadi
block of Kerala’s Palakkad district. They are are lucky. The proof is
in the fact that they are alive. This is not a piece of luck that
every adivasi mother and her children living in Sholayur as well as
the other two gram panchayats — Agali and Pudur — have. It’s true that
Kerala claims to have attained a high Physical Quality of Life Index –
as high as 80 – and has maternal and infant mortality rates much lower
compared to that of other states in India. Ninety-nine percent of
deliveries are institutionalised in the state. But statistics at the
Community Health Centre at Agali, the block’s headquarters, show a
different picture.
A different story altogether
In the period between March 2003 and March 2004, there had been four
deaths in the 603 births that had taken place. When 12 children die in
every thousand births in mainstream Kerala, infant mortality including
those stillborn is 66 for Attappadi. Eighty percent of the newborn
babies are under the normal weight of 2.5 kgs. The real picture could
be worse than the one statistics reveal.
The large incidence of maternal and infant deaths are malnourishment,
and this in turn is due to poverty, inefficiency and ineffectiveness
of the health services provided by the government and the tribal
people’s inaccessibility to it. There are three government primary
health centres (PHC), one community health centre (CHC) and 27
subcentres in this 745-sq kms block. But a large number of tribal
women in this region prefer deliveries at home.
The Bethany Tribal Mission Hospital, which functions near Anakkatty
near Sholayur on the Kerala Tamilnadu border, reports 230-275 births
in a year of which adivasi women account for only ten or twelve. These
women are usually from the Irulas who could merge into the mainstream
lifestyles. The Kurumbas who have not yet emerged out of the forests
and the Mudugas who have still not adjusted to the life outside
forests hardly ever come to the hospital. In the process of
mainstreaming the tribal communities over the years, the tribe of
traditional midwives has almost died out.
The posts of gynaecologists and pediatricians remain vacant in many
hospitals. A gynaecologist who joins a government hospital is entitled
to a pay of Rs 8000 to Rs 10000. But private hospitals pay specialists
anything from Rs 25000 to Rs 30000 when they sign-up. • National meet
– nomads, adivasis
• Why their kids are dying
Even though adivasi women have the self-confidence to have their
deliveries at home, childbirth in the absence of trained midwives
often leads to tragedy. Cutting the umbilical cord with rusted knives
or razor blades, tying stones to the end of the cord so that it falls
off, tying up the cord with dirty bits of string, applying mud to stop
the bleeding, leaving the mother dirty even when the child is cleaned
up — all these happen when inexperienced women help in the delivery
process.
To make the matters worse, many of the subcentres do not have ANMs
(Auxiliary Nurse Midwife). All the subcentres are in isolated areas,
and government nurses are scared to stay at these places alone. Most
of the nurses, recruited from far away places, are hesitant to work in
this remote and backward tribal belt, and they stay away from duties
on continuous leave. The deserted sub-centres often become centres for
gambling and drinking and even for brewing illicit liquor.
The women are often unable to reach hospitals even if they want to.
They have to walk over difficult hilly terrain for eight and ten
kilometres before they can get hold of a vehicle. For adivasis who
live in hamlets like Galasi, Thudukki, Moolagangal etc., in Attappadi
block, even the community health centre at Agali is a distant world.
“The tribal women, when they reach the hospital after a complicated
delivery are very often in a critical condition,” points out Dr
Prabhudas, an Assistant Surgeon at the Primary Health Centre at Pudur.
Dr Prabhudas has been working in Attappadi for the last 20 years. “As
the facilities for attending a complicated delivery case are
inadequate in the primary health centres and community health centre,
we often refer them to a taluk hospital or district hospital.”
And to reach the Mannarghat Taluk Hospital from Agali, one has to
travel two hours by bus. The district hospital at Palakkad is further
one hour. There is nothing surprising about the fact that patients in
critical condition mostly die on the way, says Dr Prabhudas.
Even on reaching the government hospitals after a lot of effort, the
adivasi women and children are not fortunate enough to be treated by
specialists. The posts of gynaecologists and pediatricians remain
vacant in most of these hospitals. Specialist doctors prefer private
hospitals to government hospitals. A gynaecologist who joins a
government hospital is entitled to a pay of Rs 8000 to Rs 10000. But
private hospitals that charge hefty fees for abortions and caesareans
are willing to pay much more. Specialists are paid anything from Rs
25000 to Rs 30000 when they sign-up. Naturally, doctors prefer private
hospitals. Adivasi women who work as casual labourers do not have the
financial wherewithal to get treated at private hospitals.
“Earlier, at least graduate doctors used to show some interest in
being posted to such remote areas, as such services entitled them to
preference in admission to post-graduate courses. Now that the
government stopped giving preference to remote area services during
admission to post graduate courses, even graduate doctors are
reluctant to work in remote and backward places like Attappadi,” says
Dr Prabhudas.
Whether the deliveries take place at home or hospital, doctors point
out that tribal mothers are not healthy enough to deliver healthy
babies. Most pregnant women and lactating mothers hardly have enough
for two square meals a day. “Almost all of them are terribly anaemic.
Either they have sickle cell anaemia or anaemia from lack of proper
diet. Most of them suffer from protein deficiency too. It is dangerous
for a pregnant woman to have a haemoglobin count below ten. But most
pregnant adivasi women have counts of seven or eight. It even goes
down to five or six in some,” says Dr. Muralidharan, the Medical
Superintendent at the Bethany Tribal Mission Hospital. According to
him, Eclampsia (high blood pressure and seizures) is very common in
the third trimester in Attappadi’s adivasi women.
Uprooted first, and then mainstreaming fails
Their tragic tale started when the forest reached the hands of the
government and the land around it, in the hands of the settlers.
Earlier, when they lived in the forest their diet was a balanced one,
consisting of tubers and fruits and meat. And they used to cultivate
protein-and-iron-rich food like ragi, maize, pulses and chama. But
later, during the influx of settlers, tribals were forced to retreat
to the barren, parched, uncultivable hill-slops. Adivasi communities
constituted 63% of Attappadi’s population in 1961. According to the
2001 Census, the total population of Attappadi is 66,171 and Scheduled
Tribes constitute 27,121. Adivasi population has come down to 41%.
A survey report prepared as early as 1977 by a project officer at the
state’s Integrated Tribal Development Project reveals that the tribals
had then lost 14,000 hectares of fertile land to settlers, and now
27,000-strong tribal people hold just 2,000 acres of land.
A tribal family ifrom Pudur panchayat. Pic: T Mohandas.
Most of the adivasi women shoulder the responsibility of raising the
family on their own, while their men enslave themselves to liquor. The
women have no option other than going back to their wage labour within
a few days after delivery. Many of them suffer from acute and chronic
back pain.
Attappadi testifies how a mainstream development process could deeply
shatter an erstwhile self-sustained community. It is the first block
in Kerala where the Integrated Tribal Development Project (ITDP) was
initiated by the state government. It had been declared an ITDP block
in 1970 after the State Planning Board assessed it as the most
backward block in the state. Ever since, the state government
implemented a good number of special projects — Attappadi Co-operative
Farming Society, the Western Ghats Development Programme, the
Attappadi Valley Irrigation Programme — for the development of the
block, and many other poverty alleviation programmes under the ITDP
and Integrated Rural Development Project.
According to the State Planning Board, during the Ninth Five Year Plan
(1997-2002) Rs 13.28 crores have been spent in this block alone. Out
of this amount 20% was spent in the health sector. A Rs 219-crore eco-
restoration project (Attappadi Comprehensive Environmental
Conservation and Wasteland Development Project) aided by the Japan
government is being implanted in this area since 1996 through
Attappadi Hills Area Development Society (AHADS), a state government
agency.
Yet, the region remains a symbol of backwardness with about 80 per
cent of the tribal population living in abject poverty. None of the
projects implemented here so far has taken the peculiarities of
adivasi culture and beliefs into consideration. Even the much-hyped
People’s Planning Programme implemented in the state during 1997-2002
as the Ninth Five Year Plan turned out to be a failure in Attappadi
since non-tribals constitute majority of the population, and also, due
to the illiteracy (overall literacy rate of Attappadi is 49.5 per cent
in sharp contrast with the totally-literate mainstream Kerala) and
lack of political and administrative awareness of the adivasis.
State’s priorities change
There are stark disparities in the healthcare services available to
remote tribal regions compared to other parts of the state. Also, as
Dr B Ekbal, national convenor of the Jan Swasthya Abhiyan (People’s
Health Movement) points out, there has been a definite decline in the
public health care system in the state since the 1980s. Starting from
the 1980s there was an overall drop in the rate of growth in
government health expenditure due to a fiscal crisis. This was
accentuated after 1991 as a result of economic liberalisation
policies.
In a study of the impact of macroeconomic adjustment policies on
access to healthcare, Dr D Narayana of the Centre for Development
Studies, Thiruvananthapuram, notes that between 1981-82 and 1997-98,
the state’s expenditure on medical and public health services, as a
proportion of total expenditure, declined from 9.62% to 6.98%. Capital
expenditure on medical and public health services, as a percentage of
total capital expenditure, plunged from 9.61% to 1.57%.
“As a result of this rolling back of government support to healthcare,
the first major casualty has been the rural health sector,” says Dr B
Ekbal, “It’s actually the lack of political commitment that has
largely brought about a decline in the public healthcare system in
Kerala. The state doesn’t even have a health policy of its own. There
has been no proper planning at the policy level. The government is
spending more money on super speciality hospitals than focusing on the
primary health care system.”
The State Health Department takes an indifferent attitude towards the
health issues of the tribal communities. The last comprehensive survey
in Kerala on the state of health and socio-economic status of the
adivasis was carried out in 1992. Instead of seeking sustainable
solutions to the problems faced by the tribal communities as a result
of their alienation from land, forest and culture, what is being done
is the distribution of free rice and iron tablets when starvation and
anaemia become acute. When a good amount of money is being otherwise
spent on development projects through the three-tier panchayats and
the centrally-assisted welfare schemes, is providing basic healthcare
services to the tribal communities that difficult? (Quest Features &
Footage). ⊕
M Suchitra
25 Jul 2005
M Suchitra is a Kochi based journalist associated with the Quest
Features and Footage. She was named the Development Journalist of the
year at the Developing Asia Journalism Awards 2006, for this article.
For more, see awards.
The betrayal of tsunami survivors
A blinkered bureaucracy has proved to be utterly insensitive to the
Andaman and Nicobar islanders. Instead of helping them rebuild their
lives and revive self-confidence, the government is reinforcing
practices of dependence and subservience while pushing its warped
version of relief and redevelopment, writes Colin Gonsalves.
Combat Law, Vol. 4, Issue 3 – Though much has been written about the
situation in Tamilnadu and Pondicherry, the conditions of tsunami
survivors in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands is little known. Many
NGOs working in the area are collaborating with the administration and
are apprehensive about speaking out. With the arrival of the monsoons,
rehabilitation work has become slower. Many journalists covering the
Islands budget for a few days only, spend most of their time at Port
Blair, and cannot always make it to the smaller islands. The Human
Rights Lawyers Network team was on the Islands immediately after the
tsunami and has maintained a presence there to this day. This is their
report of the betrayal of the tsunami survivors.
The neglect of the people has its roots going back many decades and is
to be located in the isolation of the Islands from mainland India and
the consequent freedom given to the administration to do as they
please. Central scrutiny is minimal, few NGOs exist, the national
newspapers find it too expensive to cover the Islands in normal
circumstances and the Bar at Port Blair is not accustomed to doing
public interest petitions. All this creates a ripe situation for the
exploitation of the tribals who suffer without demur and protest
injustices done to them with amazing politeness.
Photographs by Sunil Kumar Jojo
Before the tsunami, the tribals had their own plantations, were
accustomed to fishing and had a certain sense of well being and self-
confidence. Though the balance of power between the administration and
the tribals always tilted in favour of the former, the tribals were
often determined to speak their mind and do as they please. The
tsunami changed all that. A once proud people are reduced to living in
tin sheds and on the free rations of government. They are shaken and
afraid. The administration could have responded to restore confidence
and self-esteem but did just the opposite. They reinforced practices
of dependence and subservience.
All that the people wanted in the first days after the tsunami were
tools so that they could build their houses with the timber lying
around. The government refused. Instead a hare-brained scheme for
providing tin sheds was floated at Delhi and pushed down the throats
of the tribals in the Islands. Tin sheds have been tried and have
failed everywhere. And yet in the Islands tens of thousands of these
sheets were ordered and distributed. From the cool confines of their
machaans made of wood the tribals were shifted to ovens where they
baked in the afternoon sun. These temporary structures had no flooring
and so when the rains came inside, so too did the slush.
Everywhere the tribals protested but they were scared that their
criticism of the tin sheds may be seen by the administration
negatively and may result in the withdrawal of benefits. So they
suffered the stupid mainlander. But they would ask again and again
‘give us tools’; they were ignored.
Then and now: The once proud Nicobari people living in their natural
habitat have been forced now to live in abominable conditions in
tinsheds.
That single act, the provision of good wood cutting tools would have
restored the confidence of the tribals. They would have built their
houses of wood once again. There was no need to have two phases, one
for the construction of temporary shelters and another for permanent
housing because the tribals would have merged the two phases and
expanded and consolidated the temporary shelter to convert it into
their final home. I have no doubt that had the administration done
this simple act of providing tools, all the tribals in the Islands
would have been housed within a month after the tsunami.
Instead what do we have? As long after the tsunami as May 2005, when
we visited the Islands, we found even the temporary shelters
incomplete everywhere, and the tribals leaving their homes and going
into the forest areas in the afternoons to escape the heat of the tin
sheds. And as we were leaving the monsoons first showers came in,
making the houses unliveable.
Then we learned that someone at Delhi has taken a decision to build
pre-fabricated houses, either of reinforced cement concrete or a steel
tubular structure, as permanent housing in the Andamans. The salinity
of the air will cause the RCC structures to corrode and the tubular
structures to rust. The tribals will not be able to maintain these
houses and repair them, having no skills to do so. If this dubious
plan works, the whole Andaman and Nicobar Islands will be converted
into a giant concrete slum. There are officials overanxious to push
this plan through, going from island to island and village to village
giving the people three plans to chose from: all RCC or steel but not
wood, giving the people the impression that they either accept that or
they will get nothing at all.
And then casually, almost as if by chance, we heard from the mouth of
a senior administration officer that the free rations will be
discontinued from October. There can be no greater injustice than
this. The lives of the tribals have been shattered, their communities
splintered, their livelihood destroyed, their homes washed away and,
in these circumstances, all that they have, in the name of a little
bit of security, is their free rations. They have no boats so they
cannot fish. Free grains is what they depend on to survive. What we
would like to know is: Who has taken the decision to discontinue the
provision of free grains and why are the people not being told about
this decision?
We found water shortages everywhere. People were drinking contaminated
water. Children were falling sick. Truly no one cares for the little
children. In the six months since the tsunami, apart from a few
sporadic attempts, their education came to a standstill, with the
State not bothering to supply text books and note books. Had that
elementary thing been done, the teachers in the villages would have
ensured that the students not lose any time.
Many villages were in darkness. Where the electricity lines were up
and the generators in place there was no kerosene. In some places
public transportation was at a standstill and people had to walk long
distances to reach their villages.
It is pathetic to see the manner in which the people travel from
island to island and that too in the Andamans which houses a large and
sophisticated naval base. The ships have no fixed timings. When they
sail they carry passengers many times their capacity with people
huddled on deck like cattle. The toilets are stinking and overflowing.
Sometimes for days the people wait.
Like the demand for tools we heard the demand for boats everywhere.
Like the demand for tools this was also something that would restore
self-confidence and a sense of self-worth. The people would fish. They
would travel from island to island carrying their vegetables and doing
some trade. Independence, morale and self-confidence of the tribal
people must be a priority.
Where has all the money gone? Ask an official, and he will give you a
lump sum figure. Ask another and he will give you an entirely
different sum. Why is it that the Government of India refuses to put
up on a website or publish in a newspaper the list of beneficiaries
with the amounts donated? There is strong resistance to this in the
administration. It is not the business of the NGOs to ask such
questions, we were told in a meeting. Large sums of money exist and
must be used for the purpose it was intended for. A CAG inquiry may be
of some use. But there is no excuse for a government, committed to the
Right to Information, not to disclose to the public at large details
of the money received and precise details as to how it is being spent.
The greatest justification for this is the fact that on the ground the
tribals suffer deprivation and ill health.
It is pathetic to see the manner in which the people travel from
island to island and that too in the Andamans which houses a large and
sophisticated naval base. The ships have no fixed timings. When they
sail they carry passengers many times their capacity with people
huddled on deck like cattle.
In the past two months the situation has shown some signs of
improvement. The Chief Secretary has initiated a larger process of
consultation with tribal leaders. Non-governmental organisations find
themselves better placed to engage with the administration and provide
the much needed support to affected communities. Whether the
administrations good intentions will be backed by action that improves
the conditions of the tsunami survivors is yet to be seen.
While the basic requirements of food, shelter, education and
livelihood have not been fulfilled, grand plans are afoot to convert
parts of the islands into a thriving tourist hub, with little thought
to the strain on the already fragile ecology of the battered islands.
On 24 July 2005, another offshore earthquake of magnitude 7.2 struck
the islands causing panic and the fear of another tsunami. Now more
than six months after the tsunami, the administration must quickly
move beyond workshops and start a systematic process of community
disaster drills. Communication with certain islands continues to be
erratic. The task is enormous. The efforts must be visible in the
lives of the common people without any further delay.
Colin Gonsalves
Combat Law, Volume 4, Issue 3
August-September 2005
(published 11 September 2005 in India Together)
CONSERVATION VS. TRIBAL RIGHTS
Ecology for the people
The ongoing vigorous debate between wildlife enthusiasts and tribal
rights activists must be steered by a vital lesson from past
conservation failures – that India’s unparalleled riches of
biodiversity can only be protected by working with, rather than
against, the rural and tribal communities who live closest to them,
writes Ramachandra Guha.
14 November 2005 – Early in 2005, a vigorous debate broke out within
India about the status of the country’s national animal, the tiger.
Reports began appearing in the press suggesting that there had been an
alarming drop in the animal’s numbers. In several formally notified
Project Tiger sanctuaries, such as Sariska, no tigers were spotted for
weeks on end. Anecdotal evidence from other parks – particularly those
in northern India – also confirmed the decline. This fresh
manifestation of a ‘tiger crisis’ led to the prime minister
constituting a Tiger Task Force, and, beyond this, to a wider debate
on the best means of preventing the tiger from sliding into
extinction.
As it happens, with this debate on the tiger was commenced,
simultaneously, a debate on the rights of adivasis in forest areas.
This was sparked off by a new legislation proposed by the Ministry of
Tribal Affairs, which seeks to give ‘a permanent stake to scheduled
tribes’ living in the forests. Based on the (correct) presumption that
the colonial regime had committed a ‘historic wrong’ in wresting
rights of forest ownership from the tribals, the new law wishes to
make amends, by now involving them more directly in forest use and
forest conservation.
The tribal rights bill has been vigorously opposed by wildlife
conservationists. In their view, it would only put further pressure on
the natural forests that are the last remaining redoubt of the tiger.
The prominent conservationist, Valmik Thapar, insists that “tigers
have to be saved in undisturbed, inviolate landscapes… You either
create landscapes that are undisturbed, or you don’t save tigers. As
far as I’m concerned, tigers and human beings – forest dwellers or
tribal peoples – cannot co-exist.”
“… tigers have to be saved in undisturbed, inviolate landscapes… You
either create landscapes that are undisturbed, or you don’t save
tigers. As far as I’m concerned, tigers and human beings – forest
dwellers or tribal peoples – cannot co-exist.”
- Valmik Thapar
• Understanding encroachments
• Forest fights, Indian style
• Recognition of forest rights
• “They are people too”
On the other side, anthropologists and tribal activists dismiss the
views of such conservationists as arrogant and elitist, as putting the
interests of animals above that of poor humans. Elitist these views
probably are, and very definitely unhistorical. For, in fact, tigers
and tribals have co-existed for centuries in India. True, in some
parts they now compete for survival and subsistence. But the reason
for that is that the living space and natural resources of both have
shrunk because of economic processes powered by humans who are not
tigers, nor tribals either. The shrinkage of the tiger’s habitat, and
the shrinking of their numbers, is the result of such things as large
dams, iron ore mines, and menus in Beijing and Taipei restaurants – in
sum, the result of the lifestyle of the urban elite and the industrial
and commercial interests that go with them. It is fair to say that in
the unfolding of these processes, the tribal has been almost as much a
victim as the tiger itself. The solution urged by Thapar and his
colleagues is to punish one victim in order, ostensibly, to save the
other.
The media, naturally, have seized on this debate between ‘the tiger’
and ‘the tribal’. However, two recent and quite soberly presented
reports allow us to go beyond these polarized positions, towards a
more scientific approach with regard to biodiversity conservation in
India. The first is a fascinating study of the country’s biodiversity
commissioned in 2000 by the ministry of environment and forests, and
coordinated by the pioneering environmental group, Kalpavriksh.
Covering all of India’s states and Union territories, this was the
most participatory exercise in environmental planning ever undertaken
in the country’s history. (It is also, most likely, without parallel
elsewhere in the world.) Kalpavriksh worked with state and Central
governments, NGOs, scientists, and peasant and tribal communities to
produce nearly one hundred plans, these grouped under political
regimes, ecological zones and subject themes. Each report aimed at
integrating the ecological security of the region or state with the
livelihood security of those humans who most critically depended on
its biodiversity. It studied and critically assessed biodiversity in
the wild as well as in cultivated areas, and gave a special focus to
the rights of women and children (the main cultivators and collectors
of this biodiversity).
These various specific studies have been synthesized in a ‘final
technical report’ entitled Securing India’s Future (see this link for
more). Where traditional conservation focusses merely on saving large
mammals – those ‘megacharismatic metavertebrates’ – what we have here
is a far more sophisticated approach, and in at least three respects.
First, it is ecumenical with regard to scale, whereby small patches of
refugia, such as sacred groves or ponds, are given the same loving
attention as are large areas of wilderness. Second, it is ecumenical
with regard to species, with rare plants (including cultivated plants)
and insects being valued along with megacharismatic metavertebrates.
Third, it respects not just the human rights, but also the knowledge
systems of local communities, in order to incorporate folk ecological
knowledge in the management of conservation regimes.
This final technical report, summarizing all the others, recommends
that in matters pertaining to biodiversity management, “the State
becomes a facilitator rather than a ruler”, by nurturing “a
decentralized natural resource governance structure”. It argues that a
viable long-term policy must “strengthen and support community
conservation areas – across the entire rural land/waterscape”.
As it happens, the report of the Tiger Task Force, also just
published, likewise recommends a shift from ‘exclusive’ to more
‘inclusive’ methods of national park management. It deplores the
tendency of “tiger lovers … to band together into a select group that
would control policy and programme formulation” in the “belief that
the tiger can only be protected by building stronger and higher fences
against ‘depredators’”. In contrast to this centralizing perspective,
the task force draws attention to the vulnerability and suffering of
the underprivileged Indians who “share their resources with the tiger,
without getting any benefits in return … To succeed, tiger
conservation … has to bring benefits to [these] poor people.”
How might this be accomplished? One way is to turn those who lived in
and around national parks “into the frontline defenders of the forests
and protected areas, rather than see them as antagonists”. Their
knowledge and skills could be used to guide researchers and eco-
tourists, rather than poachers. Rather than ban all human use of the
forests, the state might encourage the sustainable extraction of non-
timber forest produce, such as honey, as was in fact being done, very
successfully, in some parks in south India. The choice was between
working with local people “to create situations in which they can live
within the rules of the protected areas and in fact to strengthen
[their] protection”, or working against them “so that they
increasingly turn against the protected areas and animals”. If the
latter alternative was preferred, warns the report, the state would
have to “invest more and more into protection – more fences, guns and
guards. Maybe we will win. But it is more likely we will lose”.
Both within the state bureaucracy, and among traditional wildlifers,
there is a strong resistance to change, a knee-jerk reliance on a
narrow-minded, centralizing and essentially punitive approach to
conservation.
These two quite outstanding reports draw on years of cutting-edge
research by Indian scientists. Thus, biologists like Raman Sukumar
have shown how it is possible to resolve conflicts between large
mammals and vulnerable villagers living in and around park areas.
Sociologists like Ashish Kothari have convincingly argued that, in the
long run, only a more participatory approach will save the forests and
their varied inhabitants. And ecologists like Madhav Gadgil have
outlined how conservation needs to move outwards, from saving species
towards protecting habitats and biodiversity as a whole.
The three scholars mentioned in the previous paragraph are all
internationally renowned for their work. They are regarded, outside
India, as global pioneers. Sadly, they have sometimes been prophets
without honour in their own country. For both within the state
bureaucracy, and among traditional wildlifers, there is a strong
resistance to change, a knee-jerk reliance on a narrow-minded,
centralizing and essentially punitive approach to conservation. This
makes it all the more necessary that these truly visionary documents
do not gather dust in sarkari offices. It was the government which
commissioned these reports; pressure must now be brought to bear to
ensure that they are implemented. For the lesson of our past
conservation failures is simply this – that India’s unparalleled
riches of biodiversity can only be protected by working with, rather
than against, the rural and tribal communities who live closest to
them. ⊕
Ramachandra Guha
14 Nov 2005
Ramachandra Guha is a historian, and a regular columnist with The
Telegraph of Calcutta. His writings are republished here by
arrangement.
CULTURE
Gonds nourish aspirations at annual fair
In what is supposed to be an annual religious and cultural gathering,
nothing is more mixed up than the speeches. Talks that start with the
fine points of Gondi religion, its practice and ritual, inevitably
delve into subjects with deeper socio-political resonance. From
interior Maharashtra, Aparna Pallavi reports on the annual Kachhargarh
fair.
28 February 2006 – “What are you looking for in this place? If you are
hoping to find answers here, you are in the wrong place. The only
worthwhile thing you can hope to take back from here is questions,”
says the serious, bespectacled Justice L R Maravi, a sessions judge in
Gondia district, Maharashtra and a Gond community leader. One hardly
knows how to respond to this staggering but forthright piece of
advice. What kind of answers can you expect anyway in this place where
everything refuses to conform to your ideas of what they ought to be?
It is Maagh Purnima day, and we are at the annual Kachhargarh tribal
fair in the deep interior Salekasa tehsil of Bhandara district,
Maharashtra. The fair is held to celebrate the day when, in Gond
mythology, the children of Mata Kali Kankali (not to be confused with
the Hindu deity Kali), mother goddess of the Gond people, were rescued
from a cave by the Gond religious leader Kari Kupar Lingo and his
sister Jango Raitad.
As we thread our way through thick crowds towards the little village
of Dhannegaon located at the foot of Kachhargarh hill, Dr Motiram
Kangali, a prominent Gond community leader and head of the Gondi Punem
(religion and culture) Mahasangha — the apex religious body of the
Gonds, updates us on the history of the fair. Kangali is with the
Reserve Bank of India and is a Ph D. “In the year 1976 some of us,
then students active in the tribal students movement, read about this
fair in the books of Russle and C U Wills.” Kangali, and two of his
friends K B Maraskole and Sheetal Markam, (who later went on to form
the Gondwana Mukti Sena, one of the constituent bodies of the Gondwana
Ganatantra Party) visited the place out of curiosity. “We found that
the fair had shrunk from the grand affair it once used to be to nearly
a non-event, with hardly 500 people visiting the spot annually.”
After visiting several other Gond pilgrimage centres in Central India,
the group selected Kachhargarh – originally known as Koili Kachar
Lohgarh, as the most convenient spot where Gond tribals from Central
India, Orissa and Andhra Pradesh could be brought together under a
common identity. “It was also around the same time that we realized
that there was no written documentation of Gond history, culture,
mythology and ritual,” says Kangali. This prompted him to take up the
work of research and documentation.
It was ten full years after this first visit, from 1986 onwards, that
the fair started being held at the present large scale. The
organisational activity that went into the fair also led to the
formation of the Gondwana Ganatantra Party (GPP), the political
organisation of the Gond people. Today, as many as 3-4 lakh Gond
tribals from the above-mentioned states visit the fair over three or
four days around Maagh Purnima time. The number of non-Gonds is
negligible. Mostly, it is journalists and social observers or just
curious urbanites. There is no tourism value to this cave or fair yet.
People hovering at the entrance of the sacred Kachhargarh cave. Pic:
Aparna Pallavi.
Within an hour of arrival, we commence the three km walk to the sacred
Kachhargarh cave – the most important part of the pilgrimage. The last
stretch is a difficult climb over a jagged hillside dotted with
ancient trees. It is awesome and breathtakingly beautiful to the eyes,
and a torture to limbs long habituated to urban ease.
But it is worth the trouble after all. The ancient cave, with its
dark, damp walls, and the cool, heavy air that pervades it, belongs to
another time. Its stream is a not-very impressive trickle in February,
but it swells to a torrent during the rains. It is too dark inside to
trace the stream’s origin, but the gurgling sound inside the cave is
enchanting. Deep and wide enough to accommodate some 20,000 people at
once, Kachhargarh cave retains its timeless quiet despite the presence
of a few hundred people in it.
Even if one misses the religious or mythological significance, there
is no way one can miss the spirit. For once, we are back to the days
of the earth’s youth. Here is meaning. Here is beauty. Here at last
you learn the meaning of the words ‘peace that passeth understanding.’
Here time does not exist. Here all questions dissolve, and so do
answers. There is nothing to look for any more, and nothing to hold on
to either. If only you could stay in this place and this state of mind
for ever, things would be all right.
But it is getting dark, and we have to get back down. Back to today.
Down to the tiny hamlet of Dhannegaon, whose every home is an open
house during the three days of the fair (February 11, 12 and 13 this
year). “You don’t have to know the residents,” says Chandralekha
Kangali, “You can camp in anyone’s courtyard, cook food, eat, sleep,
and stock your luggage.” Over tea, Maharashtra state chief of the
Gondwana Ganatantra Party, Raje Vasudev Shah Tekam says, “This is
mainly a cultural and religious fair. We Gond people have lost our
identity, our culture and religion – we have become a scattered
people. Through this fair we want to refresh our understanding of
these things, and rediscover our identity and dignity as one people.”
The GPP is not politically very strong, at least yet. Hari Singh
Markam was once elected to Parliament in what is now Chhattisgarh.
Some people have been elected at the local level, again in
Chhattisgarh, and very few in Madhya Pradesh.
Gondi world view
The Gond religion is nature-based. The Gond style of social
organisation is based on the ‘saga’ (clan) system. Under this system,
which was established by the Gond religious leader Kari Kupar Lingo,
there are 12 ‘sagas’ or groups which are further divided into 750
‘kur’ or clans.
Each clan is bound by the Gondi religion to protect one tree or plant,
one animal and one bird. The clan names are based on this
categorisation. For instance, the name Markam relates to the mango
tree, while the name Kangali refers to a certain climber.
The marriage rules of Gond tribals are also based on this
organisation. All the clans in one ‘saga’ worship a certain number of
deities, ranging from 1 to 7. Intermarriage between members from
different clans is permitted if one clan worships an odd number
(visham) of deities and the other an even (sam) number. The clans with
odd and even numbers cannot intermarry.
In several parts of India, Gond communities have forgotten this system
of marriage. At present, research is on to rediscover the vital
details of this system. Community leaders feel that the
reestablishment of this system is vital to the identity of the Gond
community.
Women: Gond mythology has it that Kari Kupar Lingo’s sister Jango
(rebel) Raitad started a social reform movement for the rights of
women, after which widows were given rights to maintenance in the
marital home as well as remarriage. Also, a woman’s consent is
important for marriage. Women have equal educational status.
• Caste panchayats and Gond women
• Convention of adivasis and nomads
Politics, he explains, is not on the fair’s agenda, but it is
impossible to keep it out entirely, as political overtones to the
religious and cultural message are inevitable.
“We Gonds want to resurrect our social and religious structure — the
system of 12 sagas and 700 kur (clans),” says Anandrao Madawi,
mursenal (chief) of the Jagatik Gond Saga Mandi, the apex body of the
Gond tribal panchayats, “We want our own state, our own language, our
own punem (religion). We want others to recognise that we exist.”
A quick ramble in the little makeshift market – the kind that
inevitably springs up at such places — makes for interesting
observation. There are several stalls selling books on Gond religion,
culture and even the basics of the spoken language. “A lot of our
people have forgotten the Gondi boli (language),” explains Kangali.
His books are being sold under the name Motiravan Kangali – a small
but startling piece of tribal self-assertion against Hindu
assimilation. Kangali is known by this first name in the Gond
community, and retains his original first name, Motiram, at work.
At other stalls, Gond religious symbols are for sale – some emblazoned
on T-shirts, some framed together with Hindu symbols. Stalls selling
traditional Gond paraphernalia of worship – exotic roots and herbs –
sit cheek by jowl with others selling incense, coconuts, tulsi and
rudraksha beads. Several stalls selling cassettes and CDs of Gondi
songs are doing brisk business. But beneath their glossy, faux filmi
covers, (one has a picture of a popular Hindi film actress) it is
impossible to determine which ones are authentic and which have been
created for the market.
“Each year the number of people at the fair goes up,” quips a senior
journalist from Nagpur, Jagdeesh Shahu. “But each year you see lesser
and lesser traditional clothes,” he adds.
“It is certainly not easy,” admits Tekam, “Our people want to recover
their religious-cultural identity, but the Hindu and global cultures
do have an insidious grip over their minds. There are contradictory
pulls.”
But there are positive signs too, says Kangali. At one time Hindu
assimilation was so complete that Gond people were ashamed of their
identities, and even clan names had been modified to sound like Hindu
surnames, he points out. “But since the resurrection of this fair, a
large number of people have resumed their original identities and clan
names. That is a beginning, at least,” he says.
Meanwhile some Angadevs have also descended from the cave. The
Angadevs are very small idols, 33 in number, and symbolise the
children of the mother goddess who were rescued by Lingo and later
became the emissaries of his message. They are put on ornate palkhis
(palanquins) and brought to the fair. The original idols are very
small. It is not clear if they always accompany the palkhi, and the
palkhi itself is the symbol of the Angadev, I am told.
An authentic, unadulterated cultural ritual unfolds. Clad in clean
white cotton half shirts, half dhotis and head-scarves, — proper Gondi
costume — the bearers of the palkhis dance around the Gond flag to
rhythmic drum beats. Men and women overcome by hypnotic emotion whirl
round and round in the spaces between. Since there is no fixed time of
the Angadevs coming and going, the dance takes place as and when some
idols are ready to return.
One of the palkhis descending from the hill. Pic: Aparna Pallavi.
7 pm. Time for today’s session of the Gond religious conference. The
huge marquee, with a capacity of at least 20,000 people, is crammed
full. They squeeze tighter inside the marquee and spill our over the
huge ground at the centre of which the marquee has been erected. By
midnight, the crowd will have swelled three times this size, say
community leaders, and a visual estimate indicates that this may not
be an exaggeration.
We are huddled on the dias — which appears to be an open-for-all area
where people come and take up space at will — with a motley crowd of
about 70 people. The speakers are a mixed crowd of politicians,
religious leaders, community elders and others whose identities are
not very clear.
Nothing is more mixed up than the speeches that are made. In the very
beginning, the announcers have instructed all speakers to stick to
religious matters. But talks that start with the fine points of
religious precept, practice and ritual, inevitably slip off into
subjects with deeper socio-political resonance. Language, culture,
identity, exploitation, the need for organisation and political self-
assertion, the need to resist cultural assimilation — all interlace
with rhetoric, religion, myth, ritual and even superstitious mumbo-
jumbo to form one complicated fabric in which it is impossible to
identify or sort out the different strains of thought.
The resolutions that are passed are definitely not religious —
inclusion of the Gondi language in the Eighth Schedule of the
Constitution and Gondi as an optional subject in schools in the seven
states with a high proportion of Gond population. Community leaders
say there are about 14 crore Gonds in the country — twice the
population of Maharashtra.
One is tempted to be judgemental — no clarity, no coherence, no order.
No one knows what they want. Why do they want to hold a religious fair
if they are going to talk politics?
Have you made your contribution?
Dear Reader, if you have been a regular at India Together, then you
already know that informative reporting on India Together is kept
viable by a partnership between you and us. If you haven’t yet made an
annual contribution, now is the time to change that. Support us at one
of the following levels:
– Rs.1000 (recommended)
– Rs.5000 (Friends of India Together)
– Rs.500 (basic)
Contribute now | Why your support matters
p.s.: Your support is voluntary. Nevertheless, we rely on it.
Or is it so? How much coherence can you reasonably expect from a
people who, along with their fellow adivasi communities, have been
victims of ruthless uprooting, exploitation and assimilation for
centuries? A people who are mostly impoverished, uneducated, have no
recourse to social or political power or sanction? A people who must
create a past, present and future; a history, identity and aspiration
for themselves — an entire discourse — all at once? Is twenty years
enough for such a mammoth task?
The questions do not allow easy responses. The realities are complex
and multilayered, and concerns that look overly simple one moment are
mindboggling the next.
Or maybe we are just missing the desperate undertone to everything
else — get together to survive! Hold on to each other — any link, any
reason will do. Just stand together…..
Meanwhile it is midnight. On the dias and in the marquee, people are
curling up to sleep where they can, even as a cultural programme is
announced. There is nothing to do but to follow suit.
As I work my tired body into a semi-comfortable posture between other
sleeping bodies, Justice Marawi’s eyes are suddenly just two inches
away from my own. “Did you get any answers?” he asks in a whisper. Did
I? I shake my head. “Pay attention to the questions, though,” he
whispers back, “Who knows one day they will lead to answers.” ⊕
Aparna Pallavi
28 Feb 2006
Aparna Pallavi is a journalist based in Nagpur, and writes on
development issues.
PRS LEGISLATIVE BRIEF
STs (Recognition of forest rights) bill
Who can live in forested areas? What rights to they have over lands
they have lived in for generations? Can they be relocated, and if so
on what terms? Legislation in Parliament attempts to balance forest
dwellers’ rights with economic and environmental objectives. Kaushiki
Sanyal presents a legislative brief.
HIGHLIGHTS OF THE BILL
(Read this section in detail)
*
The Scheduled Tribes (Recognition of Forest Rights) Bill, 2005 seeks
to recognise forest rights of forest dwelling Scheduled Tribes (FDSTs)
who have been occupying the land before October 25, 1980.
*
An FDST nuclear family would be entitled to the land currently
occupied subject to a maximum of 2.5 hectares. The land may be
allocated in all forests including core areas of National Parks and
Sanctuaries.
*
This page is organised as follows: The highlights of the Bill and the
key issues to be considered are listed briefly first; the details of
each are presented thereafter. Click here to see the highlights in
detail, and here to see the detailed analysis of key issues.
In core areas, an FDST would be given provisional land rights for five
years, within which period he would be relocated and compensated. If
the relocation does not take place within five years, he gets
permanent right over the land.
*
The Bill outlines 12 forest rights which include the right to live in
the forest, to self cultivate, and to use minor forest produce.
Activities such as hunting and trapping are prohibited.
*
The Gram Sabha is empowered to initiate the process of determining the
extent of forest rights that may be given to each eligible individual
or family.
KEY ISSUES AND ANALYSIS
(Read this section in detail)
*
There are no reliable estimates of the likely number of eligible
families although the Bill proposes to vest forest land rights to
FDSTs. Therefore, it is not known whether there could be significant
risk to existing forest cover.
*
If FDSTs in core areas are not relocated within five years, it could
lead to loss of forests, which are crucial to the survival of certain
species of wildlife. Large-scale relocation, on the other hand, could
result in possible harassment of FDSTs.
*
Communities who depend on the forest for survival and livelihood
reasons, but are not forest dwellers or Scheduled Tribes, are excluded
from the purview of the Bill.
*
The Bill specifies October 25, 1980 as the cut-off date to determine
eligibility. However, it does not clarify the kind of evidence that
would be required by FDSTs to prove their occupancy.
*
Terms such as ‘livelihood needs’ have not been defined. This could
lead to litigation and delay in implementation.
PART A: HIGHLIGHTS OF THE BILL
Context
The Scheduled Tribes (Recognition of Forest Rights) Bill, 2005 was
drafted to fulfill the need for a comprehensive legislation to give
due recognition to the forest rights of tribal communities [1]. These
rights were not recorded while consolidating state forests during the
colonial period as well as in independent India.
Recognizing the symbiotic relationship between tribal people and
forests, the National Forest Policy, 1988 [2], made provisions to
safeguard the customary rights and interests on forest land of
tribals. In order to implement these provisions, the Ministry of
Environment and Forest (MoEF) issued a set of six circulars [3] on
September 18, 1990 which decreed that pre-1980 occupation of forest
land would be eligible for regularization provided the State
Government had evolved certain eligibility criteria in accordance with
the local needs and conditions. The State Governments, however, failed
to implement the 1990 Guidelines.
Meanwhile, a Supreme Court order [4] led to large scale evictions by
the Forest Departments of various states. Following mass protests by
tribal communities, the MoEF issued supplementary guidelines on
February 5, 2004 to address the issue of recognizing the legal right
of tribal communities to forest land and resources. However, the
Supreme Court issued a stay order on the Guidelines.
Key features
* Rights of Forest Dwelling Scheduled Tribes
The Bill seeks to recognize and vest forest rights in forest dwelling
Scheduled Tribes (FDSTs), where they are scheduled, with respect to
forest land and their habitat. The forest rights in the core areas of
National Parks and Sanctuaries shall be granted on provisional basis
for a period of five years from the date of commencement of this Act.
If the holders of such rights are not relocated within five years with
due compensation, the rights would become permanent. The rights can be
inherited but they are not transferable.
The Bill delineates 12 rights of FDSTs over a variety of subjects. The
rights include: (a) living in the forest for habitation or for self
cultivation for livelihood, (b) community rights such as nistar (the
right of a resident of a village in respect of cattle grazing and
collection of jungle produce), (c) right to own, use or dispose of
minor forest produce, (d) conversion of forest village to revenue
village, (e) conversion of pattas or leases issued by any local
authority or any state government on forest land to titles, and (f)
other traditional customary rights. Customary rights exclude hunting,
trapping or extracting body parts of any wild animal. FDSTs also
cannot indulge in any activity that adversely affects wild animals,
forests and the biodiversity in the local area and need to ensure that
adjoining catchments areas and water sources are adequately protected.
Forest rights of FDSTs would be subject to the condition that such
communities had occupied forest land before October 25, 1980 [The
Forest (Conservation) Act, 1980 came into force on this date]. The
Bill specifies that no FDST shall be evicted from forest land under
his occupation till the recognition and verification procedure is
completed.
The Bill states that forest rights would be vested on such land which
is occupied by an individual or family or community when the Act comes
into force. The rights would be restricted to the area under actual
occupation and shall not exceed an area of 2.5 hectares per nuclear
family. The title would be registered jointly in case of married
persons and in the name of the single head in case of single member
households.
Forest rights would be conferred free of conditions such as Net
Present Value (NPV) and compensatory afforestation for diversion of
forest land [5]. Under the Forest (Conservation) Act, 1980, the state
government or any other authority cannot divert forest land for non-
forest purposes without prior approval of Government of India. In case
it is diverted, a certain amount of money (NPV of the land) has to be
deposited with the government for purposes of compensatory
afforestation, and the State government has to keep aside a
proportionate area of land for afforestation.
* Authorities for Vesting Forest Rights
The Gram Sabha, a village assembly of all adult members of a village,
shall have the authority to initiate the process of determining the
nature and extent of individual or community forest rights that may be
given to FDSTs within the local limits of its jurisdiction under this
Act. The Gram Sabha is empowered to receive claims, consolidate and
verify them, and prepare a map delineating the area of each
recommended claim in such manner as may be prescribed for exercise of
such rights. It would then pass a resolution to that effect and
forward a copy to the Sub-Divisional Level Committee (SDLC).
The SDLC, which shall be constituted by the State Government, would
examine the resolution passed by the Gram Sabha and prepare the record
of forest rights. It would then be forwarded to the District Level
Committee (DLC) through the Sub-Divisional Officer for a final
decision. The DLC would be the final authority to approve the record
of forest rights prepared by the SDLC.
A State Level Monitoring Committee would be formed to monitor the
process of recognition and vesting of forest rights. The Committee
would submit returns and reports to the nodal agency (the ministry
dealing with Tribal Affairs). The SDLC, DLC and the State Level
Monitoring Committee would consist of officers from the departments of
Revenue, Forest and Tribal Affairs at the appropriate level as may be
prescribed.
If a person is not satisfied by the ruling of the Gram Sabha, he can
file a petition to the SDLC who would consider and dispose of such
petition. If a person is not satisfied by the decision of the SDLC, he
can petition to the DLC within 60 days of date of decision of the
SDLC. The DLC’s decision would be final and binding.
* Penalties for Offences
In case a person is found guilty of contravening or abetting the
contravention of the provisions of the Act, engaging in unsustainable
use of forest or forest produce, killing any wild animal or destroying
forest or any other aspect of biodiversity or felling trees for any
commercial purpose, he shall be punished with a fine which may extend
to Rs 1,000. In case the offence is committed more than once, the
forest rights of the guilty person would be derecognized for such
period as the DLC, on the recommendation of the Gram Sabha, may
decide. The penalty would be in addition to any other law for the time
being in force.
If members or officers of authorities and committees commit an
offence, they would be deemed guilty and can be fined up to Rs 1,000.
PART B: KEY ISSUES AND ANALYSIS
The Scheduled Tribes (Recognition of Forest Rights) Bill, 2005, aims
to recognize and enforce the rights of FDSTs to forest land and
resources. The main challenge of the Bill is to harmonize the
potentially conflicting interest of recognizing forest rights of FDSTs
while protecting forests and wildlife resources. Lack of data
• Ecology for the people
• Forest fights, Indian style
• Understanding encroachment
• Their lands, our laws
Although the Bill proposes to recognize and vest forest land rights to
FDSTs, there are no reliable estimates of the number of families who
will be benefiting from the proposed legislation. Secondly, although
the government estimates that there are around 2-3 million people
living inside India’s protected areas (national parks and sanctuaries)
[6], there is no census of the number of FDSTs residing within the
core areas of national parks and sanctuaries [7]. Therefore, it is not
possible to calculate how much forest land would be required in order
to implement the provisions of the Bill.
Tribal Rights vs Environmental Conservation
* Differing Viewpoints
There are three main streams of thought regarding this issue. Some
experts say that tribal communities have lived in forests for
centuries, and granting them the formal right over forest land is just
undoing a historical injustice. On the other extreme, some
conservationists say that certain species of animals (such as the
tiger) cannot co-exist with humans, and there is a need to reserve at
least some parts of forests to conserve these species. They also say
that increased human habitation in forests will cause depletion of
forest cover, resulting in significant ecological costs. A third view
is that traditional forest dwellers help in preserving forests, and
giving them land rights would actually help in ecological conservation
[8]. However, there does not appear to be any clear evidence to
conclusively support any of these views. Some of these issues are
discussed below.
* Allotment of Land
The Bill prescribes 2.5 hectares as the upper limit of forest land
that an FDST nuclear family may be allotted. However, there is a
possibility that it might result in elimination of legal protection
for forest cover, which could lead to heavy ecological damage [9]. For
instance, the possible depletion of watershed forests of Central
India, which allow penetration of rain water into the sub soil, could
lead to drying up of rivers such as Narmada, Tapti, Mahanadi,
Godavari, Krishna, and Cauveri [10]. The counter-argument is that the
Bill only seeks to recognize the forest rights of FDSTs who have been
cultivating the forest land for generations. In any case, the total
forest land under encroachment is estimated by the government at 13.43
lakh hectares [11], which amounts to about 2% of the recorded forest
area in the country [12].
It is also possible that confiscating forest land from the tribal
families, who possess more than 2.5 hectares of land, could lead to
further impoverishment of tribal communities [13].
* Core Areas
The Bill grants forest rights to FDSTs in core areas [14] of National
Parks and Sanctuaries provided they are relocated within five years.
If relocation does not take place within the prescribed time period,
the holder would get permanent right over forest land. Therefore,
there would either be large scale relocation of tribal communities or
they would get permanent right over land in core areas.
Given India’s poor track record in relocating people affected by
development projects, such as the Narmada Dam [15], or from
sanctuaries such as Sariska and Gir [16], the possibility of large
scale relocation from core areas raises the spectre of loss of
livelihood and hardship for FDSTs.
There could also be an argument against advocating coexistence between
wild animals and tribal communities. Certain species such as tigers,
rhinos, and elephants are vulnerable to pressures from human land use
[17]. These species are typically large-bodied, slow breeding, need
large areas, and vast resources for survival. Some experts argue that
it might be more realistic to identify protected areas, which consist
of National Parks and Sanctuaries (about 4.7% of India’s geographical
area [18]) as inviolate while areas outside such reserves could be
utilised to serve the needs of tribal communities [19].
Coverage
* 1980 ‘cut-off date’
The Bill takes October 25, 1980 as the cut-off date for vesting and
recognizing forest land rights of the tribal community. However, the
Bill does not specify the kind of evidence that FDSTs would require to
prove their occupancy of forest land before 1980. Although states such
as Maharashtra have adopted more effective procedures than just
documentary evidences (oral testimonies, evidence of elders of the
village etc.) for verifying claims [20], it is not mandatory for every
state to adopt such practices. Therefore, there might be a case for
specifying a set of admissible evidences in the Bill itself.
Also, it is unlikely that FDSTs would have the required documentary
evidence to prove their occupancy over forest land before 1980 [21].
Thus, in order to minimize evictions, a case could be made for
settling the claims of FDSTs on the basis of current occupancy of
forest land.
* Exclusion of certain communities
The Bill only recognizes forest rights of FDSTs who are defined as
‘Scheduled Tribes who primarily reside in forests and includes the
Scheduled Tribes pastoralist communities and who depend on the forests
or forest lands for bona fide livelihood needs.’ Other communities who
depend on the forest for survival and livelihood reasons, but are not
forest dwellers or Scheduled Tribes, for instance in large sections of
Chattisgarh and forest tracts of Uttaranchal [22], are excluded from
the purview of the Bill. This could lead to large-scale eviction of
such people and increase social tension among the various forest
communities.
The Bill also specifies that FDSTs would be granted forest rights only
in places where they are scheduled. However, such a clause could lead
to denial of rights to tribal communities on the ground that they do
not reside in the area where they are scheduled even though many
tribal people have been displaced due to development projects and
creation of protected areas [23].
Role of Gram Sabha
Although the Gram Sabha has been given the power to initiate the
process of determining forest rights, the final decision rests with
the DLC. The DLC is also the authority that would decide the period
for which an FDST’s forest rights is to be derecognized in case of
repeated contravention of the provisions of the Act. Although the
Statement of Objects and Reasons of the Bill envisages involvement of
democratic institutions at the grassroots level, the Gram Sabha does
not have the power to recognize forest rights or enforce such rights.
Eviction and Relocation
The Bill does not place any explicit restriction on the methods that
can be used to remove non-eligible forest dwellers. This is a concern,
given the history of cases where brutal force has been used to evict
tribal families [24]. The Bill mentions that FDSTs would be relocated
from core areas of National Parks and Sanctuaries with due
compensation. However, the Bill does not clarify exactly what kind of
compensation would be offered to the tribal people, what recourse they
would have if such compensation is not satisfactory or is altogether
denied.
Definitions
Certain terms mentioned in the Bill have not been defined. It could
lead to difficulty in implementing the provisions of the Bill. Clause
3 (j) mentions ‘the right to protect, regenerate or conserve or manage
any community forest resource which they have been traditionally
protecting and conserving for sustainable use.’ The term ‘community
forest resource’ is not defined, and hence, it is not clear whether
these also include resources within government owned forests including
National Parks and Sanctuaries. The term ‘nuclear family’ has also not
been defined, though each ‘nuclear family’ has a right up to 2.5
hectares of forest land. FDSTs are defined as those ‘members or
community of the Scheduled Tribes who depend on the forests or forest
land for bonafide livelihood needs’. The term ‘livelihood needs’ is
not defined which leaves the scope of activities allowed open to
interpretation.
Penalties
The Bill imposes a fine of Rs 1,000 on FDSTs in case of contravention
of provisions of the Act. If the offence is repeated, the person’s
forest rights might be derecognized for such period as decided by the
DLC on the recommendation of the Gram Sabha. However, the Bill does
not specify whether an FDST has the right to appeal such a ruling of
the DLC to a higher authority (such as the State Level Monitoring
Committee) other than to a court.
The member of a committee is also required to pay a fine of Rs 1,000
if found guilty of contravening the provisions of the Act. However,
this amount might not be a sufficient deterrent. ⊕
Kaushiki Sanyal
15 Apr 2006
Kaushiki Sanyal is a researcher with Parliamentary Research Service, a
unit of the Center for Policy Research in New Delhi. PRS is an
independent initiative to make the process of law-making in India more
transparent, better informed and participatory.
• Write the author
• Post a comment on this article
• Forests
• Adivasis
Notes
1.
The National Advisory Council (Chairperson: Smt. Sonia Gandhi), made
certain recommendations, including the need for central legislation,
to improve the condition of the tribal population (see
http://nac.nic.in/concept%20papers/evictions.pdf)
2.
National Forest Policy, 1988
3.
(FP1) Regularization of Encroachment (FP2) Review of Disputed Claims
over Forest Land (FP3) Regularization of Pattas and Leases (FP4)
Elimination of Intermediaries and Payment of Fair Wages to the
Labourers on Forestry Works (FP5) Conversion of Forest Villages into
Revenue Villages and Settlement of Other Old Habitations (FP6) Payment
of Compensation for Loss of Life and Property Due to Predation/
Depredation by Wild Animals.
4.
In T.N. Godavarman vs Union of India (Writ Petition (C) No. 202 of
1995), the Supreme Court issued an order “restraining the Union of
India from permitting regularization of any encroachments whatsoever
without leave of this Hon’ble Court.” However, a letter of Inspector
General of Forests, dated May 3, 2002, instructs state governments to
evict the ineligible encroachers and all post-1980 encroachers from
forest land in a time bound manner. The letter refers to the SC order
of Nov 23, 2001
(see http://nac.nic.in/concept%20papers/evictions.pdf).
5.
Net Present Value (NPV) and Compensatory Afforestation are
requirements associated with using forest land under the Forest
(Conservation) Act, 1980. NPV of the diverted forest land is a measure
of the potential value of such land. The Supreme Court, in the course
of Godavarman case, mandated that any user agency, prior to diverting
forest land, would have to pay the NPV of that land to a Court created
Central Government agency called Compensatory Afforestation Management
and Planning Agency. The value, which is subject to upward revision,
was set at the rate of Rs 5.80 lakh to Rs 9.20 lakh per hectare of
forest land depending upon the quantity and density of the land in
question converted for non-forest use.
(see http://164.100.194.13/allied_forclr/htmls/Guidelines/Guidelines.htm,
and
http://www.elaw.org/resources/text.asp?id=2998)
6.
Press Information Bureau, Govt. of India
7.
M.D. Madhusudan, “Of Rights and Wrongs: Wildlife Conservation and
Tribal Bill”, (Economic and Political Weekly), November 19, 2005
8.
Pradip Prabhu, “The Right to Live With Dignity”, (Seminar), No. 552,
Aug 2005
9.
P.V. Jayakrishnan, “Is there a need for this Bill?”, (Seminar), No.
552, August 2005
10.
Beware of Tribal Bill’s Consequences: Buch, Hindustan Times, May 21,
2005
11.
Press Release, Ministry of Tribal Affairs
12.
Bela Bhatia, “Competing Concerns”, (Economic and Political Weekly),
Nov 19, 2005
13.
Madhuri Krishnaswamy, “One Step Forward, Two Steps Back”, (Economic
and Political Weekly), Nov 19, 2005
14.
Core Areas: National Parks and Sanctuaries are required to keep
certain areas inviolate for purposes of wildlife conservation. The
areas may be determined by the Ministry of the Central Government
dealing with Environment and Forests.
15.
Mike Levien, “Narmada: Life, Struggle and Exodus”, (India Together),
August 2004
16.
Ghazala Shahabuddin, Ravi Kumar, Manish Shrivastava, “Pushed over the
Edge”, (Economic and Political Weekly), Aug 6, 2005
17.
Refer M.D. Madhusudan (Note 7)
18.
Wildlife Institute of India’s Executive Summary, “Wild Life Protected
Area Network in India: A Review”
19.
Valmik Thapar’s Dissent Note in the Report of the Tiger Task Force
(Joining the Dots) set up by the Ministry of Environment and Forest
20.
Jean Dreze, “Tribal Evictions from Forest Land”, March 2005
21.
Refer Madhuri Krishnaswamy (Note 13)
22.
Refer Madhuri Krishnaswamy (Note 13)
23.
Madhu Sarin, “Scheduled Tribes Bill, 2005: A Comment”, (Economic and
Political Weekly), May 21, 2005
24.
Refer Jean Dreze (Note 20)
Comments (1)
* Posted by Dambarudhar Jamuda,
The FDSTs are mostly illiterate. Hence their gram Sabhas may not
deliver goods. Whether the rules made thereunder require the
Authorities to act as facilitators for the same and whether there is
provision for fixing responsibility in case of lapses. Any legislation
without teeth becomes ineffective, more so for the Acts meant for down
trodden.
IN PICTURES – Fight for Survival, documentary, 20 mins.
For more information on the film: madari.shorturl.com
27 April 2006 – It is often overlooked that laws are driven by the
values of the law makers. When these values turn against a particular
community, such as the African-Americans in the Jim Crow South,
zealous do-gooders often use the protection of the “law” to brutalize
those communities. In India, the Animal Rights Act is such a cover,
used by animal rights NGOs and forest department officials to
prosecute the Madaris, an iconic community that has worked with
animals through the millennia.
Fight for Survival won the second prize from amongst 85 films at the
South-Asia Livelihood Documentary Festival “Jeevika”, organised by the
Centre for Civil Society, in New Delhi from 20-28 January 2006.
• Convention of nomads and adivasis
• Gonds nourish aspirations at fair
In the film, Fight for Survival (20 mins), director Dakxin Bajrange
shows us the results of this persecution. In Gujarat in 2003, the
Animal Help Foundation and the forest department literally took the
fight to the Madaris. Under the guise of protecting animals, Madaris
were beaten by hired thugs, dragged out from their bastis, and locked
up in dog-cages. Their snakes were taken away, depriving them of their
only source of livelihood. But in the ruling values paradigm,
officials and the urban NGO have greater credibility than the Madaris
who are seen anyway as representative of an ignorant India, an India
that ‘India Shining’ seeks to leave behind.
Bajrange spoke to the NGOs who decry that “India is known as a country
of elephants and snake-charmers” and forest department officials to
get their side for the film. The officials brush off the complaints of
torture and beatings declaring that “to bring any change, some pain is
necessary.” Despite its focus on particular episodes of persecution,
Fight for Survival is a rich record of the lives of the Madaris. The
Madaris emerge not just as “snake-charmers”, but a living, thriving,
dynamic community.
Being a member of a stigmatised tribe himself, Bajrange brings to the
film a sense of the real, lived experience of being on the wrong side
of the law. In highlighting the situation of the Madaris, he speaks
out for voiceless communities everywhere.
Tarun Jain.
27 Apr 2006
Tarun Jain is a Ph.D student in Economics at the University of
Virginia.
• Adivasis
• Society
• Gujarat
• Post a comment on this article
Comments (2)
* Posted by Radhika Sharma,
I believe there are two ways of getting out of any situation; the one
that makes the situation better and the one that makes it worse. The
way that Animal Help Foundation and Forest Department are trying to
solve this issue (and I say this with all due respect to the cause),
is an example of the latter way.
India is indeed the land of snake charmers and elephants. And there
are ways to make sure it stays that way, without the consequent harm
to the animals. What if, for example, we were to introduce a system of
licensing these madaris. Only the license holder madaris would be
allowed to perform at predesignated places. These people could be
subjected to regular inspections/surprise audits of the animals and
the conditions they are kept in. Better still, these guys could be
provided some basic training on how to look after their animals. This
calls for more intervention and commitment from the government. The
non-licence holder madaris, if trying to run a illegal show, can be
then taken to task.
A cultural tradition should be provided more support to sustain and
flourish, not eliminated.
* Posted by sandeep kumar,
respected sir,
I think the possible answer to this problem is to engage these snake
charmers in
conservation of snakes by promoting venum cooperative which has helped
the Irula tribe in Tamilnadu and Andhra Pradesh. This will not only
help the snake
charmers but will also help in snake conservation as well as snake
bitten
people.
yours faithfully,
sandeep kumar,
jharkhand 827006
THE NARMADA SAGA
Shunglu committee : familiar fait accompli
Both the Supreme Court and the Prime Minister recognised that
rehabilitation for Sardar Sarovar dam on the Narmada river was
incomplete, but neither was willing to fulfil their legal
responsibility to actually stop construction. Instead, the the Shunglu
Committee is now “independently” investigating rehabilitation and it
appears compromised, worries Mike Levien.
3 July 2006 – Once again this year’s monsoon rains will bring
destruction instead of kharif to the people of the Narmada Valley. Yet
again the government has raised the height of the Sardar Sarovar (SSP)
dam without providing rehabilitation to those who will be displaced.
Successive dharnas by the Narmada Bachao Andolan (NBA) in Delhi,
including a three week fast by Medha Patkar and dam-affected villagers
Jamsingh Nargave and Bhagwatibai Patidar, have failed to make the
government listen.
In May, 48 dam-affected villages presented overwhelming evidence in
their Supreme Court application that rehabilitation of all affected
families at the impending 122m dam height is incomplete. Both the
government-appointed Group of Ministers who visited the valley and the
Madhya Pradesh government in its own petition to the court confirmed
this assertion. Despite all this, the Supreme Court allowed
construction on the SSP to continue. It is indisputable that this
decision is a direct violation of the apex court’s previous decisions
and relevant law.
Without the threat of stopping construction, the states have no
incentive to actually provide the required rehabilitation to project
affected families.
• A moral breach in the dam
• The dams balance sheet
According to the Narmada Waters Dispute Tribunal Award (NWDTA) and the
Supreme Court’s own decisions of 2000 and 2005, rehabilitation of all
Project Affected Families (PAFs) in all three affected states (Madhya
Pradesh, Gujarat, and Maharashtra) must be totally completed six
months before each successive increase in the dam height. Anyone who
cares can look this up in the original NWDTA decision and also the
Supreme Court’s 2000 and 2005 decisions. Construction on the dam thus
cannot legally precede full rehabilitation of affected families.
The Shunglu Committee
Both the apex court and the Prime Minister recognised that
rehabilitation was incomplete, but neither was willing to fulfil their
legal responsibility to stop construction. Instead, the Prime Minister
created, and the Supreme Court endorsed, an Oversight Group (known as
the Shunglu Committee) to “independently” investigate the
rehabilitation situation in the Narmada Valley. The Court indicated
that it would be willing to stop construction if the committee finds
rehabilitation to be incomplete.
First, this decision employs a very strange logic. The Shunglu
Committee was supposed to report back to the Prime Minister about the
rehabilitation status in the valley by 20 June (this has since been
delayed). Based on this report, the Prime Minister is supposed to
issue a recommendation within seven days to the Supreme Court, which
is expected to make a decision by July 3. Even if the committee finds
that rehabilitation is incomplete (which it will if it conducts its
mission in good faith), by this time construction up to 122 m will be
finished!
This means that regardless of the committee’s findings, over 35,000
families in the Narmada Valley will see their homes, fields, and
communities flooded before the vast majority of them are given their
legally guaranteed rehabilitation. It must be stated again that this
is entirely illegal according to the NWDTA and the Supreme Court’s
previous decisions. Furthermore, as history shows, without the threat
of stopping construction, the states have no incentive to actually
provide the required rehabilitation to project affected families.
Thus, lakhs of adivasis displaced at 110m, 100m, 90m and below are
still languishing without alternative livelihoods to turn to, as any
trip to the Narmada Valley will show.
Second, the survey of dam-affected villages that the Shunglu Committee
has been conducting with the help of the National Sample Survey
Organization (NSSO) is methodologically flawed in several ways. First,
the instructions given to the committee by the Court only allow it to
investigate whether those affected between the 110 and 122 metre dam
heights have been rehabilitated. However, it is clear that lakhs of
people below that height are still unrehabilitated due to past illegal
height increases. Further, the committee is only allowed to verify the
information presented in the state’s rehabilitation reports and cannot
look beyond them.
Even if the committee finds that rehabilitation is incomplete (which
it will if it conducts its mission in good faith), by this time
construction up to 122 m will be finished!
Thus the committee is not investigating the status of affected people
who are not on the government’s official lists. But one of the biggest
problems with rehabilitation in the Narmada Valley is that thousands
of people have been entirely left off the official PAF lists! Even as
the committee is in the valley on its investigation, Narmada Valley
Development Authority (NVDA) officials are also there, resurveying and
adding hundreds of more people to the lists daily. But none of these
people will be shown in the committee’s report. Gramsabhas have also
conducted comprehensive sample surveys in four villages, which show
many more people affected by submergence than are on the government’s
PAF lists. But the Shunglu Committee refuses to take all these into
consideration.
Third, the way the surveyors are asking questions guarantee that they
will miss much of what’s happening in the Narmada Valley. The
surveyors are only asking people yes or no questions, and thus not
allowing villages to provide open-ended answers that would shed light
on the real rehabilitation realities that people are facing. For
example, in one village an interviewee reported that he had not
received compensation for his soon-to-be submerged house. Instead of
noting this, the surveyor asked him if he had received a houseplot.
The interviewee responded that he had on paper, but had not received
compensation for his house and thus could not build a new one, and
that moreover there were no civic amenities like electricity at the
site. But the surveyor simply recorded that the person had received a
houseplot! In another example, surveyors refused to listen to
villagers who were trying to tell them that their land would become
tapu (surrounded by water) because they did not have a column for that
on their survey. Without open eyes and ears, how is the committee
supposed to understand the actual situation in the valley?
Reports from many villages also indicate grave and inappropriate
behaviour by government surveyors, which severely call into question
their “independence” and impartialness. While surveyors are not
supposed to be accompanied by government patwaris, NVDA officials have
been seen with almost every team. Clearly this is inappropriate
influence by an agency that has a vested interest in continued dam
construction. Meanwhile, villagers not being directly surveyed and the
people’s representative organisation (the NBA) are not allowed to talk
to surveyors. Even more disturbing, surveyors have been propagandising
and even making speeches to villagers about the dam project. Some
surveyors have encouraged villages to accept the meager (and illegal)
cash compensation that the government of Madhya Pradesh is offering
instead of demanding the land they are legally entitled to. In another
village, one of the surveyors (who happened to be from Gujarat)
actually gave a speech to PAFs about how the dam was in the national
interest and that they should make a sacrifice for it. Another told
them that they should move to Gujarat. Is this an impartial survey or
propaganda for illegal government policies? The Shunglu Committee
appears not to be an independent investigation, but a stalling tactic,
allowing dam construction to proceed before full rehabilitation is
completed.
The patent absurdity of all this would make the situation comic if it
weren’t so tragic. When the monsoon waters back up behind the 122m dam
wall, many thousands of people will be flooded from their homes. Small
adivasi villages and densely populated towns of Nimad will be
submerged, along with their shops, markets, and temples. Farmers will
lose their fields and crops, and since the concerned governments do
not recognise many of them as affected, they will be shoved off
without compensation or alternative land to turn to for their
livelihood. Those who are identified as affected will be dumped in tin
sheds with no cultivable land if they are lucky (even these tin shed
homes have yet to be constructed in many of the rehabilitation sites).
Others who are not officially counted could wind up in the slums of
the nearest cities, as happened to many evictees of the upstream Bargi
Dam. How many this will happen to is hard to predict as it depends on
the size of the monsoon rains. But it’s a lot more people than all
three state governments are recognising, and is certainly measured in
lakhs.
What next?
Given the sheer number of oustees and the gaping holes in the
governments’ rehabilitation plans, it is impossible that this could be
corrected before the August-September submergence, even if the
governments were making an effort. The Group of Ministers team sent to
the Narmada Valley by the Prime Minister reported that rehabilitation
in Madhya Pradesh at the 122m dam height would take at least another
year.
The government must take several steps immediately. First, the
problems with the Shunglu committee’s investigation must be
acknowledged. Whatever the committee’s conclusions, it is already
clear that their survey will provide only a very partial and
incomplete picture of the rehabilitation situation in the Narmada
Valley. The committee’s final report should take into consideration
the information and critiques brought to light by the gramsabhas and
the NBA. Two, with the impending monsoon rains, the government must
act on war-footing to provide rehabilitation to those who will be
displaced.
The glaring injustice and illegality of this must also serve as a
lesson for next year, when the government will again try to push the
dam height to 140 metres. But the law is clear. No further height
increase should be allowed until it is shown that every family in the
submergence area has received its full, legally-guaranteed
rehabilitation. So far, the Supreme Court, the Prime Minister, and the
three respective state governments have all failed to live up to their
responsibility to enforce the law and protect the rights of people in
the Narmada Valley. ⊕
Mike Levien
3 Jul 2006
Mike Levien is a Ph D Student in Sociology at the University of
California-Berkeley. He can be reached at mlevien @ berkeley.edu. He
has recently been travelling in the dam-affected villages and
rehabilitation sites of the Narmada Valley, where he has spoken with
dam-affected people. He previously spent a year in 2003-2004 writing
about the Sardar Sarovar Project and Narmada Bachao Andolan.
MONSOON REPORT
Horrifying face of the dammed river
Incessant rainfall in the catchment area of the Sardar Sarovar dam,
coupled with less water being allowed to flow into the Narmada main
canal led to an unusual overflow in early August, despite upstream
dams not recording downstream releases. Himanshu Upadhyaya reports on
the devastation in the Narmada valley.
30 August 2006 – On 28 July, a news story filed by The Indian Express
correspondent reported inflow of 651.29 cubic metres (23000 cubic
feet) water per second at the Sardar Sarovar Dam on the Narmada river.
Four days later, on 2 August, a press release from PTI filed from
Ahmedabad flashed the news of the controversial dam overflowing. Per
second inflow of water at the dam was 3308.40 cubic metres (1.16 lakh
cubic feet) and outflow through the sluice gates downstream was
1324.60 cubic metres (0.46 lakh cubic feet). Overflow was registered
at 122.50 cubic metres (0.04 lakh cubic feet) per second.
Behind these apparently obscure numbers is the real story. This
summer, following the clearance from Narmada Control Authority to
raise the height of the dam from 110.64 to 121.92 metres, Gujarat had
raised the height of the dam to 119 metres before the onset of the
monsoon and had to stop the construction work when monsoon rains
arrived. The water level at the dam had touched 119.11 meter mark, as
indicated by a flood control room official. And as predicted, by the
end of July, submergence had already started with increased inflow of
water.
So there was a natural curiosity as to how effectively and optimally
did Gujarat utilise the fresh impoundment water in the reservoir?
A correspondent with Gujarati language newspaper Sandesh reported that
“the gate of Main Narmada Canal is just 0.5 metre open and the water
flowing down the main canal is merely 580 cusecs (i.e. cubic feet per
second).” A glance at Gujarati newspapers suggested that Narmada Main
Canal was carrying such a meager amount of water thanks to breaches at
several places. This situation led to the sudden build up of water at
dam site since while the inflow of water into reservoir went up,
following intense rains in the catchment area in Maharashtra, the
volumes of waters flowing into main canal was very meager. (Breaches
in the Narmada canal have occurred routinely during past couple of
monsoons due to failure to provide for adequate drainage structures.
See: Rivers and Plans run Off Course, Sep. 2005)
In the past years, the water level at Sardar Sarovar Dam site rose
only after the release of water from upstream Tawa, Bargi and Indira
Sagar Dam.
• In the dam’s waters they trust
• Overflowing with the official view
India Together readers will recollect the remarks made by P K Laheri,
chairman of SSNNL on how would they utilise waters to be impounded in
reservoir, were they allowed to raise the height of the dam (See:
Overflowing with the Official View). Last year on 1 August, The Indian
Express report quoted him saying, “All this water could have been
saved. Two months of storage in the dam has been lost. If the level
had been five metres higher, the curve of power generation would have
been optimum. We could have filed up reservoirs in scarcity prone
areas of Surendranagar and Banaskantha, or released water into more
rivers like Sabarmati. We wanted to do all this in this monsoon. It is
unfortunate…we will have to wait for the next season.”
The controversial dam has generated much debate and the summer of this
year witnessed hundreds of oustees affected by the dam camping at
Jantar Mantar, New Delhi. And since the first week of August, the dam
started overflowing leading to wide spread submergence in the river
valley. The incessant rainfall in the catchment area of the dam,
coupled with meager amount of water being allowed to flow into main
canal led to a rather unusual event, where we witnessed the dam
overflow even as upstream dams on the Narmada river had not recorded
downstream releases. In the past years, the water level at Sardar
Sarovar Dam site rose only after the release of water from upstream
Tawa, Bargi and Indira sagar Dam. (Such downstream releases from
upstream Tawa and Indira Sagar Dam started from August 15.)
On 4 August, water level at the dam site had reached a high of 127.4
metres.
The local people were planning to launch a satyagraha at three
different villages slated to drown under dam waters starting during
5-7 August. But the sudden rise in the water levels at dam site led to
drowning of houses from Dhankhedi, Bhadal and Danel villages in
Maharashtra. Hamlets in other eight villages were just on the brink of
submergence. Two jeevanshalas (boarding schools for adivasi students
studying in 1st to 4th standard) in Danel and Bhadal village got
submerged. But this did not dampen their spirits, more than 3000
adivasis and farmers marched to Badwani, M.P., a district headquarter
that has been base of Narmada Bachao Andolan for last two decades,
braving incessant rains. After taking out a rally at Badwani they
gathered at Rajghat on the banks of Narmada river to launch a
satyagraha with a resolve to fight the injustice. They were joined by
the supporters and fraternal organizations from various states
including Gujarat, Tamilnadu, Kerala, U.P., West Bengal, Delhi and
other states.
But even as they moved to another adivasi village, Bhitada in
Alirajpur tehsil of Jhabua district in M.P., they were in for a very
grave situation with Narmada waters constantly rising. More than 120
children studying at Jeevanshala in Danel got stranded and had to face
rising waters, until a barge from Maharashtra came around – not to
rescue them but to arrest them. When the police arrested them and took
them to the dam site, they took out a march against the displacement
and the dam in Gujarat. They all were brought to Akkalkua later.
By the afternoon of 7 August 7 (at 1 pm), water level at the dam site
had risen up to 127.35 metres. At Rajghat, the waters were overflowing
the bridge connecting Nisarpur and Badwani towns. Even as this figure
was reported, news agencies quoted Bharuch District Administrator
suggesting that the water level at dam site may rise up to 129 metres
by that time. The activists who returned from Bhitada and Chimalkhedi
villages on 9 August described the situation in the submergence
villages as horrifying. Noorjibhai Padvi of village Danel told
visitors, “the huge mountains that took us hours to climb are all gone
under water. It’s an awesome, horrifying face of the river that till
the dam came was so friendly to us. It is this government that has
robbed us of our friendly river and in turn given us this swollen
reservoir that has unleashed large-scale devastation.” The hills the
villagers referred to are part of Vindhya range.
Additionally, all roads leading towards the valley were blocked due to
the heavy downpour. Apart from the cutting off the mountain routes,
the waters had blocked the entry from Dhadgaon, from Madhya Pradesh or
Gujarat to the villages affected by the Sardar Sarovar dam.
In the rehabilitation sites in Gujarat also, most of the fields of
resettlement villages were inundated, destroying crops. In many sites
such as Karnet, Thuvavi, etc., water entered the houses. In
Maharashtra, waters entered in houses in Vadchhil and Javda and one
‘nullah’ burst, destroying the houses and sown fields. Keshav Vasave
from Maharashtra pointed out that not only the Madhya Pradesh
government, but Maharashtra government too failed to provide any
decent and legal resettlement to the tribal oustees in the state.
“There are no basic services like drinking water, fodder, fuel,
cultivable land, protection from rains in these places. We are cheated
and live the life of destitutes.”
The situation in the Narmada valley remains severely grave. In the
absence of proper planning, what we have witnessed is that all the
states are committed to thwart the debate and raise the dam height.
And with ad hoc administration, they have created devastation in
upstream submergence villages as well as downstream villages. Any
further increase in the height has to be questioned, since not only
have the state governments failed to rehabilitate affected people,
they have also wreaked havoc with lives of people upstream and
downstream.
Earlier, Supreme Court judges used a report of Prime Minister Manmohan
Singh’s Shunglu-committee, which does not present the ground level
truth. They posted the next hearing in the ongoing case to September.
Also, administration and news agencies in Gujarat have been issuing
statements regarding situation downstream of the Sardar Sarovar dam,
which is equally severe with 8.5 metres overflow registered at the dam
site. Several villages and a large part of Bharuch town (downstream)
got inundated with floodwaters.
To add insult to injury, the NVDA in Madhya Pradesh issued a press
briefing that only spoke on affected people accepting the disbursal of
cash compensation and passed it off as if they were getting
rehabilitated with alternate land. The Pioneer reported this on 6
August. But that the cash compensation was illegal and that the NVDA
was maintaining silence on the situation of adivasi villages affected
by submergence, went unreported.
With a very high inflow at another dam – Ukai on the river Tapti – the
city of Surat in south Gujarat was also severely affected by floods.
Prime Minister Singh did undertake an aerial survey of Surat and south
Gujarat. But he chose not to fly over the submerged Narmada valley,
look at the large expanse of villages drowning under waters and then
try to find on returning, what the Rehabilitation Oversight Group
commented on the probability of submergence. Neither did the rising
waters also ask the affected people before submerging their lands and
homes. But making an oblique reference to the fate of the Narmada Dam
oustees at his Independence Day speech, Singh said: “When I see large
development projects coming up, while one rejoices at the progress
that is being made, one worries for those who are displaced, for those
who have lost their land and livelihood.”
This will not do. The decisions that have imposed submergence on
affected people without properly rehabilitating them must be reversed.
⊕
Himanshu Upadhyaya
30 Aug 2006
Himanshu Upadhyaya is an independent researcher working on Public
Finance and Accountability issues.
• Write the author
• Post a comment on this article
• Adivasis
• The Narmada saga
• Maharashtra
• Reprint permissions
Comments (3)
* Posted by kirti patel,
I just want to clarify that dam or higher dam hight were not the cause
of flood.
1) With or without dam, the downstrean areas would experience floods
when there is too much rainfall upstream for a small river chennel to
manage the water flow.
2) Dam hight contains the waterflow resulting from excessive rain
upstream. So dam height can prevent floods and not cause them.
3) The only times flood can still result is that rainfall is so heavy
upstream that height of dam is not high enough to hold all that water
forcing the authorities to release excessive water from the dam to
prevent dam to be brown away.
(3) One can argue all day as to how much water should have been
released and how and when – but it is not exact science – it depends
on human judgements and how nature would behave over next several
hours to days. Nobody can procrastinate how much rain would fall and
how much water will be collected in upstream areas and how much
excessive water that dams would have to handle – even best estimates
are mere guesses and nature can prtove all of them wrong forcing
unplanned and unanticipated actions that involves minimizing the
fallout – choosing between lessor of the devastation. To politicise
them is worst kind of political opportunism.
* Posted by K.Sriharsha,
The article by Mr.Himanshu Upadhayaya, clearly brings to fore the fact
that even repeated blunders in the so called path of development with
the lives of the marginalised do not bring about any change in the
attitude of the rulers.
As amply portrayed in the article by Mr.Upadhayaya, the situation
since the previous monsoon has only worsened if anything.
We can talk about the techicalities of water storage and discharge,
but the question here is much graver than that. The question here is
of lives of the poor.
* Posted by Himanshu Upadhyaya,
To totally miss the point that my article talked more about the
devastation caused by Sardar Sarovar (Narmada) dam upstream due to
submergence results probably from a biased misinterpretation. Those
readers who miss the point the author wants to convey are free to read
the said article and other articles hyperlinked on the page again. To
merely behold an overflowing big dam and shout “a dam is overflowing
and everything is at peace on the earth” is to close rational
questioning at one’s own peril.
VERRIER ELWIN LECTURE
The tribal world and imagination of the future
“The Constitution is yours. The borders are yours. The sovereignty is
yours. The flag is yours. What is ours? What is that is both tribal
and Indian in the Constitution?” Shiv Visvanathan recalls an
Independence-era conversation that marks the passage of the adivasis,
unheard and unheeded, between two worlds.
14 November 2006 – Social scientists make poor story tellers. They get
absorbed in the objectivity of roles and institutions, and are also
unable to handle the nuances of repetition and redundancy, mistaking
them for cliches. Yet social scientists must tell stories.
On November 9th, 1947, negotiations between the tribal communities of
Chhotanagpur and the Indian government had broken down. The Indian
army under General Cariappa was worried, its focus already under
strain with the joint tensions of Kashmir and Hyderabad. Only Sardar
Patel was cool. He said, “we don’t fight the tribals. These people
fought wars of independence years before 1857. They are the original
nationalists.”
Patel’s sentiment had the idea that these tribals wanted a nation
without the nation-state. They loved the idea of Gandhi as father of
the nation but they would not accept the idea of the nation-state
which was anathema. For India, the problem of the Constituent Assembly
had become a fractured dialogue confronting a divided nation. The
first division was the silence of the Partition, the absence of the
Muslim League in the making of the Indian state. But the second break
that perplexed Patel, Nehru and Azad was the recalcitrance of the
tribes. It was not just the claim that they were autochthonous, more
original and native to India. It was not the argument that now that
freedom was coming, the Indians as conquerors should leave like the
British were leaving with their baggage of modernity, isms and the
Janus gift of progress. Two outsiders being shown the exit door was
high drama, but as comedy. For the tribals, while British hegemony was
tragedy, Indian democracy would be a farce. Neutral observers cringed
at this fatal use of Marx.
“These people fought wars of independence years before 1857. They are
the original nationalists.”
Nehru and Sardar were clear. The tribals were not razakars. Their
culture was different. Their plea was different. Their world and their
arguments were an appeal to a different imagination. The tribals, the
leaders felt, had to be talked to. Or, in the more dialogic language
of democracy, they had to be talked with. A change of prepositions was
becoming a change of propositions. Grammar was the first signal of
change, language, the first semiotics of freedom.
While the call for dialogue was in the air, there were a few violent
skirmishes. A few criminal/denotified tribals were lynched in public.
Two young boys were tortured to death. The osmosis of power was clear.
British or Indian, tribes were to be the cannon fodder of the emerging
state. The criminal justice system was irrelevant to them. Of course
witnesses in official time would laugh cynically. The Indian state was
still feeble, still hesitant. It had yet to offer its great
contribution, the drama of encounter deaths, to the world. Encounter.
Let me tell the reader it was not a dialogic idea which summoned a
Buber or Gandhi. Encounter was an asymmetric event, a zero sum game
where any random tribal was shot dead because he was seen as guilty by
being. The Indian police in later years would add their own privatized
twist to it by creating a perverse system of accounting. They would
file for excess ammunition and sell it off to the arms market.
Despite the violence the tribal leaders held their peace. They wanted
their world along our world. They wanted to be separate, equal and
reciprocal. The Gandhians and socialists were the most perplexed.
Jaipal Singh, one of the leaders, tried to explain. He asked them to
recollect the early days of the constituent assembly when the groups
were discussing the Directive Principles of State Policy (DPSP). He
reminded them of the discussion on prohibition, the state’s right to
prohibit alcohol. Singh reminded them that at that time, he had said
he could not think of tribes without their wine. He recollected how
the Gandhians had reprimanded him. When he had said a tribal’s drink
was a part of his being, his identity, his festivals, his celebrations
of life, the Gandhians had turned preachy, saying it violated the
precepts of the master, turning tribals into a social work problem.
Singh laughed at this, and said either the missionaries had never left
or when they left, they had left behind the Trojan horse called
‘social work’. He asked them to look at the violence of social work,
where some group is always defined as problematic, unreformable, and
refractory to the state. Social work problematizes the tribal as
alcoholic even before he accepts the state.
Nehru summoned Jaipal Singh, Ram Dayal Munda and other leaders to
Delhi. The men from Chhotanagpur spent their day with their old
Christian friend J C Kumarappa. The acerbic Gandhian welcomed them and
proceeded to quarrel with Nehru and Singh. Late next day, he drove
them in a tanga from the locality of Paharganj to Parliament. There
was a commotion near India Gate. The army held up the tanga saying it
was not allowed on public roads. Kumarappa argued that the army could
not decide what was public. The guests watched curiously wondering if
the Viceroy’s horse had similar problems. Eventually a phone call from
Nehru cleared the controversy and the dissidents made their regal way
to Parliament offices.
The two teams met and Nehru talked about history, the new tryst with
destiny. He felt at ease. Singh was also a Cambridge don, a hockey
blue. Singh listened and told Nehru he did not believe in history. He
asked Nehru whether he had heard of the new word which had just been
invented by President Truman. He called it ‘development’. An innocuous
word, colourless, odourless like most poisons and equally lethal.
Munda warned him that development would claim more victims than any
religion, any dogma. Nehru was distracted and wondered what he was
talking about. Only Kumarappa stood still, as if he had seen a new
horseman of the Apocalypse. The two groups decided to meet over the
next few weeks to talk things over. Nehru and Patel were clear they
could not think of an India without tribes. The tribal team agreed
whole-heartedly.
The Kumarappa papers
The report of the discussion that followed was found in the Kumarappa
papers. It came to light only in 2005, when two young researchers,
then-diasporic Indians from the University of Maryland, Venu Madhav
Govindu and Deepak Malghan, obtained a fellowship to write a biography
of the man. The report is a portion constructed on the basis of
Kumarappa’s minutes. The report is a bit secretive as to names,
occasionally using initials, which were a trifle confusing. The
debates of ideas, the politics is starkly there but the gossipy
richness of who said what to whom is occasionally lost.
The meeting with the Chhotanagpur Five was held in Teen Murti Bhavan,
then home of Jawaharlal. The meeting was attended by Sarojini Naidu,
Abul Kalam Azad, Kaka Saheb Kalelkar, Nehru and Patel. Benegal Rau,
ICS, was secretary and rapporteur. A British anthropologist, a certain
Verrier Elwin, also informally attended some sessions of the meeting.
The meeting broke into a furore even before the terms of the
discussions could be elaborated. The unfortunate event that led to the
confusion was the word ‘secessionist’. Mrs. Naidu’s use of the term
was objected to. The Chhotanagpur five not only objected to the use of
the term, but also what they claimed was the misunderstandings it
created. Secession, they felt, was an unfortunate term. Secession was
the key word in a political discourse and it unfortunately assumed the
baggage of state discourse, of passports, nationality, boundaries,
borders and security. Oddly, it was Mr. Elwin who grasped it with
typical understatement. He explained to Mrs. Naidu, “Our Munda friend
is not talking politics. He is talking as kinsmen. When families
mature or when a young man decides to marry, he takes a new home close
to his old one. The new house is different from but connected with the
old home. Segmentation would be the more appropriate word. Only now
the older home is demanding a distance from the new.”
In India, citizenship belongs not just to a domesticated middle class,
but its millions of nomads, its pastoral groups, its tribals who were
not part of the constituent assembly and probably never heard of it.
One of the five, Dr. Raphael Horo, himself part of the new Ranchi
Institute of Research, agreed vigorously. But Singh intervened to add,
“yes it is a kinship term. We are kinsmen. But there is a politics to
it. One has to redefine secession separately. It is not just the
physical movement of a group away from the ruler. In that sense, India
was always full of secessions, full of a million quarrels or mutinies.
Villagers used to move away from the ruler whenever he turned
oppressive. In many cases, the ruler sent a messenger beseeching his
subjects to come back and they did.” (Elwin notes in his diary, that
Patel grunted at this movement.)
The Chhotanagpur five argued that Indian democracy would always have
to be fluid or different. It was not a stock of collectivities but a
flow of people. In India, citizenship belongs not just to a
domesticated middle class, but its millions of nomads, its pastoral
groups, its tribals who were not part of the constituent assembly and
probably never heard of it. Their way of life, their taxonomies defied
the nation-state. India could only be India if yesterday’s
secessionist was today’s citizen. It was a cycle of life, lifestyle,
of livelihood that transcended the current ideas of politics. Modern
politics hovers between taxonomy and taxidermy. Either way, it wants
to pin you down. Benegal Rau, remembering his revered Laski and Dudley
Stamp, blurted that this challenged the current ideas of place and
space. Elwin brushed it aside by commenting a nomad carries his place
with him. But a tribal leader emphasized there was more to it.
Dr. Horo chuckled quizzically. He explained to Elwin that it is not
anthropology you need but science fiction. Quoting Margaret Mead, the
young Columbia University anthropologist explained that what
anthropology invents of the past, science fiction does the same of the
future. It is the anthropology of the future, a visionary science
which would be taught in a post-colonial age. The structure of India
is such that it needs renewal and dynamism. People seceding and
returning will be a cycle of political seasons. “Our new Ranchi
Institute survey projects that by the 1980′s at least 20-30 million
Indians and not just tribals would be seceding in some form or other.”
Nehru snapped abruptly saying, “Enough of H. G. Wells and Verne.”
Munda replied, “Wells as a novelist was a fertile imagination. It was
Wells as a Fabian who went dead politically.”
An uneasy silence followed. Rau notes in his minutes that Nehru was
wondering whether it was Columbia University rather than LSE he should
be worrying about. Columbia produced Kumarappa, Ambedkar, and now
Horo. This lot unlike the Laski troupe were more unpredictably
political. Nehru added that when he told Horo that SF was not even
literature, Horo is said to have replied, “you have to think beyond
Leavis. SF is bad text trying to capture the oral nature of
storytelling. As archive, it is miserable, as conversation and dream
exquisite.”
Kumarappa, in his minutes, notes that Patel, listening to all these
asides, was getting impatient. He turned to Jaipal Singh and said,
“All this is meaningless. We are not debating a syllabus, we are
discussing a constitution. Constitutionally what you are suggesting is
not possible.” Patel insisted, “Our preamble is non-negotiable. Our
borders are non-negotiable. This is not a seminar or a haat. It is
about our country you are talking about.”
Singh nodded sadly, realising that when push came to shove the
“tribals were not yet Indians. Only potential Indians, problematic
Indians, primitive Indians, but never Indians per se. India, like
Brahminism, needs twice-borns not the twice-aborted.” Both groups
realized that positions were polarized and old wounds had surfaced.
Mrs. Naidu proposed the group meet early the following day. That was
the only item of consensus that day.
The next day began warmly, like old friends reuniting over tea. Yet
the mood shifted oddly within a few minutes when Raphael Horo asked,
“what about the third secession?”
Panditji exploded, “There has been no other act of secession.
Partition is not secession. Yours is the only event of secession.”
Jaipal Singh immediately agreed that the question of Partition was
different from the tribal debate. But then added quietly, “what about
CPR?”
There was a sense of defeat on both sides. Both realized they had been
upstaged by history with capital H.
• Year of birth: 1871
• For tribals, only paper pledges
It was Patel who answered. “Travancore did not secede. C. P. Ramaswami
pledged total loyalty to India. CPR is not the Nizam. He is totally
Indian.”
It was one of the five who intervened. His name is not mentioned. He
said, “what if?” There was an incredulous silence. He said, “what if
ecology demanded that Kerala secede but allow its citizens to migrate
and work in India? Would India or Kerala have lost anything? With its
land reform, its openness to women, its social movements for temple
reform, it might be an alternative model to India.” Patel dismissed
the Marxists as a bunch of Brahmin boys. Munda noted that the original
description was Ambedkar’s.
Then Jaipal Singh began one of his longer speeches. He looked only at
Nehru and Patel. He said, “there is little you are offering us. The
Constitution is yours. The borders are yours. The sovereignty is
yours. The flag is yours. What is ours? What is that is both tribal
and Indian in the Constitution? What is the shared legacy, the common
weave? You have defined rights, the isms, the industry, the science,
let something be ours.” It was then that Nehru proposed that maybe
Singh could define Directive Principles of State Policy. Singh added
wryly, “Ah the non-justiciable part.” Nehru added, “It is a vision of
the future.” Munda said he liked the irony, “your past as your future,
our anthropology now as your science fiction.” Over the next two days,
the tribals wrote or itemized the dreams of the future into the
Directive Principles of State Policy.
The Kumarappa diaries mention that the debates around the DPSP became
one of the most vibrant dialogues about the future of India. What
struck him most was that tribals as an interest group did not begin
with their sense of victimhood, of wrongs to be righted, but of
democracy as a fundamental question.
The Kumarappa report indicates that the Chotanagpur five were excited
by the prospects of the exercise and adds that their discussions
provided one of the most interesting chapters of the new constituent
assembly debates. As Raphael Horo said later, “It is only when
anthropology confronts science fiction or when primitivism meets
robotics that the basic assumptions of a society begin to reveal
themselves.” One also understands the difference between pre-emptive
futures captive to old isms and the preferred futures, the song lines
of freedom. What remains today is the preamble the group wrote to the
Directive Principles.
The DPSP, they argued, was a gyroscope for the future, a sociological
litmus test, an early warning system telling you whether the
directions make sense. Horo, its principal author, began by
contending, “A constitution is a symbol of homecoming. It enfranchises
all those made homeless, made helpless by old laws. It is an
invitation to the marginal, the vulnerable, the outlaw, the dissenters
to experience the constitution as a dwelling, a place for multiple
beings and becomings. The future is only a possibility for
citizenship.”
The paradox of the Indian Constitution is that it disenfranchises
thrice. It disenfranchises, outlaws and negates the tribe. Its ideas
of sovereignty, its notion of the eminent domain assures the tribal or
the peasant has no access to the forest. He has no access to his
resources or a theatre for his cosmology. His food, his medicines, his
play all came from the forest but forest is no longer a commons. The
drama of common access and common maintenance is now over. It is the
ultimate paradox of anthropology where the native becomes outlaw in
his own land. We face the paradox of a constitution that criminalizes
its own citizens.
Munda notes added that the disenfranchisement of the marginal tribal
peasant was hidden in the abstractness and alleged universalism of the
Constitution. A constitution that floats in abstract time is
genocidal. Worse, it has no memory of its own executions as it fails
to record the logic of its own erasures. The group feels that all
constitutions that float in abstract time are cosmically homeless. A
constitution must embody multiple time – the time of the nomad, the
seasonal time of pastoral groups, the time of agriculture and women’s
time. The DPSP is a ganglion of times that connects to official
constitution based on clock time. Clock time for the constitution is
both empty and necrophilic.
The ecological embedding of the constitution needs not only an
embedding in time, but in the life-worlds of its people. A
constitution can’t only deal with life in the abstract as a system. It
has to connect life, life world, life cycle, livelihood, lifestyle to
the life chances of the people. To speak of electricity and nuclear
power in the world of the forest is lethally paradoxical.
A constitution cannot tacitly speak the language of an official
science. If every citizen is a man of knowledge, then the constitution
must be a referendum of multiple knowledges. The citizen is not an
object of science. Instead, every man must be seen as a scientist,
every village a science academy.
To officialize western science is to pre-empt a future. It privileges
the synthetic fertilizer over the earthworm and all the other
organisms that make life possible. It is a constitution that
privileges taxidermy over life. We understand the dreams of science
but we demand it understands other forms of knowledge not in the
museum or the laboratory but in the domain of life.
Given the gigantic technological projects emerging around roads,
factories, dams, the old panchayat of consensus and participation is
not adequate. We need a new concept that brings the tribe, the
policeman, the healer, the shamam, the doctor, the psychiatrist, the
vaid and the hakim into a conversation of knowledges. But a mere
dialogue is not enough. We suggest the new concept of cognitive
justice, the right of different knowledges to co-exist and thrive
together. Medical policy then must reflect the grammar of these
different notions of suffering, health and healing. The pluralism of
ecological, medical, agricultural systems may not survive without
cognitive justice.
A technological project is not an act of innocence. But it needs a new
democracy of vigilance. We propose:
* That human rights teams be attached to every project.
* That every project be subject to rules of transparency.
* That the methodology of doubt and skepticism that science made
famous be applied to every project beginning with the Damodar Valley
Corporation.
* That each project be subject to referendum and occasional recall.
* That the language of evaluation should be also in the language of
subjects, their notions of memory, their ideas of well being, their
sense of fairness.
After the meeting
The Kumarappa documents end with this fragment. Legend has it that
there was a longer extract focusing on the everyday-ness of culture,
politics and technology. When the documents came up for discussion,
the beginning of the end was clear. The Gandhians and socialists and
the Marxists treated it with contempt. The document lacked the Linus
blanket of progress. It appeared like a letter from another world.
Both Nehru and Sardar were too preoccupied with the Partition. Sardar
had become more Bismarckian than ever refusing any negotiation on the
nation-state, “We need a copy book nation. If I allow you the freedom
to experiment, the whole of the north east would go on fire.” Nehru
struck a different chord echoing the other half of Sardar’s mind. He
said, “the partition has been too traumatic. Over one million people
dead and 16 million people displaced. We need time to heal” he begged.
The rest sympathized but Horo blurted, “one day you will create more
refugees from your dam projects. DVC will be an epidemic”. But there
was a sense of defeat on both sides. Both realized they had been
upstaged by history with capital H. The legal expert Rafael Lemkin had
just coined the word Genocide to refer to the holocaust. Partition,
everyone realized, could be the invisible Holocaust.
The meeting broke down soon after. Nehru and Sardar had joined the
costume ball of the state. Governance has its dramas which are
demanding. Jaipal Singh and Munda returned to wait as Nehru advised.
But the opportunity never came. Sometimes tragedy is a drama whose
time never comes. All it leaves is the salty stale bitter taste of
irony of a forgotten people.
Rememberance
Of the Chotanagpur five, only one remains alive, Raphael Horo. He left
soon after the meetings for a small college town in the United States
to teach anthropology. Horo had built a tremendous reputation as a
linguist. His dictionaries were standard work.
I bumped into him at a conference. He sensed my presence, deftly
moving away and foiling my first attempts at meeting him. I ambushed
him over coffee one afternoon and asked him about his reflections.
There was no bitterness in what he said. It was almost as if history
was a trickster from whom we must learn. “Independence was a time for
hope. We were like kids at Christmas, each leaving his socks out
hoping for his own version of freedom. I guess we realize independence
is not freedom. It is like space and place. Independence is like
space. It is official. Freedom is a place, it needs to be built again
and again.” He paused and suddenly asked, “Have you been to
Jamshedpur, the home of Tata Steel. I used to watch the Dalma hills
where my tribe used to practice Jhum, setting fire to the forest. It
was a stupendous, almost mythical blaze. On one side of the hills, you
could see the forest on fire and on the other, the Tata factories
pouring slag down their huge factory mounds. Two fires, two modes of
creativity and for a while I thought they were balanced. After all
there was the kinship of iron and steel within us.”
“It did not work.” There was a silence, a thoughtful one as if Horo
was collecting the right word. “It was a victory of stereotypes. The
government read us as a bundle of complaints, a trade union of tribal
rights and interests, but we were not interested in being interest
groups of foisting victimology. We wanted to join the festival called
freedom, offer our ideas, our philosophies, our vision of India, but
we had already been museumized or criminalized. We went as
philosophers and were dismissed as savages.”
“Have you read the Brundtland* report? It is supposed to be on
sustainable development, on energy. It is bowdlerised idiocy. There is
more sustainability in Jhum, in shifting cultivation, that in the
entire report. If Brundtland is the Charles Lamb, shifting cultivation
is a Shakespearian drama of sustainability.”
He laughed and shrugged. “Take care,” he said.
I never met him again. ⊕
Shiv Visvanathan
14 Nov 2006
Shiv Vishwanathan is a sociologist based in Ahmedabad. He teaches at
Dhirubhai Ambani Institute of Infortmation and Communication
Technology. This article is the text of the 2006 Verrier Elwin lecture
organized by the Bhasha Research and Publications Centre. The lecture
was delivered in the form of historical fiction. Both the meeting
descibed herein and its report attributed to J C Kumarappa are
fictional and not real historical events.
* The Brundtland report is the report of the UN World Commission on
Environment and Development (1987), chaired by Gro Harlem Brundtland.
Comments (4)
* Posted by G.K.Subbarayudu,
Fascinating. One India or Many? The question is better issuized here
than in other sub-national discussions. For the first time, I see the
issue as larger than political ideologies of region, language,
religion, caste, class, community which were hell-bent on trivializing
sub-nationalisms for limited gain. What this post shows is that the
way forward is for India to have a more expansive and responsive
political attitude to what are essentially cultural differences.
Homogenising is a restrictive practice that fuels conflict. The
flowing movements adduced here are more likely to keep an India
together with minimum friction than the hardened borders of
constitutional delimitation. Thoughts of uniform codes by politically
motivated groups must be dumped . Let code-mixing happen in a more
natural time-frame than the artificial, legislated, majoritarian,
insistent ones adopted by politicized hustlers.Political objectives
should not be allowed to override and hasten cultural flows and
directions.
I am not sure I am saying anything with any degree of clarity. What I
do know is I am beginning to see something refracting, and my
certainties will no longer be self-validating.
Thanks .
Sincerely
Subbu
* Posted by sipra mukherjee,
Fascinating. A land furore happening in bengal’s singur right now that
carries the same echoes – whose land? whose government? who decides?
But what is interesting – perhaps heart-sinkingly disappointing – is
that even the sound of these echoes is beginning to get distanced from
reality. Do the sounds that reach us emanate from the mouths of the
natives, – or the political parties? Or is it a case of appropriation
of the native protest by the political leaders? It is impossible to
say any more. The stereotypes seem to have taken over here too.
* Posted by Anil,
superb piece indeed, it very beautifully takes us to a differnt level
of understanding which needs to be understood especially in thses
turbulant times when the prophecies are coming true. In fact I am of a
firm belief that indigenous people’s ways of society offers a
sustainable development model.
only thing that keeps me wondering is how can the author say only one
is alive as Our very own Ram Dayal Munda is very much alive.
* Posted by Ranjeet,
Great reading! And what to say about the vision of these Great Adivasi
leaders! But the sad part is that though a tribal’s drink may be a
part of his being, his identity, his festivals, his celebrations of
life, there can be no arguments that it also has proved to be the
downfall of many promising, Jaipal Singh included.
More to follow...
...and I am Sid Harth