CETRI
Telengana, Tehri, Narmada, Tebhaga, Bodh-Gaya, National Fishworkers Federation, National Front for Adivasi Self-Rule, Koel-Karo… The mass mobilisation and collective action of millions of Indians in these movements and at these sites are part of the contemporary history of better-known social movements in the past 60-years-movements that have been centrally concerned about the politics of natural resources.
Yet, for every well-known movement there have been thousands of smaller movements across the length and breadth of the country, where communities and groups have been engaged, most often against grave odds, in struggles to secure control over productive natural resources and to defend their ways of living and their subsistence economies predominantly based on the natural systems within which they live. These struggles have been against oppressive and inequitous access and control over land, forests, springs, rivers, catchments, lakes and coasts, against destructive developments and destructive ‘development’, and for greater justice and democratic control over resources and over decisions that affect their lives.
All over the country, for instance, there are movements against land alienation and exploitation ; against industrial pollution (in Bichhri, Rajasthan, or along the Tungabhadra in Karnataka) ; against power projects (Enron and Ogden or in Dahanu or Singrauli) ; against ports (Umbergaon) ; against the reckless destruction of life-sustaining resources by mining (in several places in Orissa, Bihar and Madhya Pradesh including Gandamardhan, Rayagadha, and Jadughoda) ; against the disruption of complex socio-ecological systems (Baliapal in Orissa) ; against the imposition of monocultures by the green, blue and white revolutions. And all over the country there are movements for self-rule (in Mendha Lekha, Maharashtra, or in Thane) ; for the defence of pristine forests or the diversity of seeds (Beej Bachao Andolan, Garhwal) ; for transparency and accountability of state-people relations (Mazdoor Kisan Shakti Sangathan, Rajasthan) ; for the defence of commons (Common Lands Movement, Karnataka) ; for control over lives, livelihoods and institutions of governance (Bhoomi Sena or Shramik Sangathna, Maharashtra, Adivasi Mukti Sangathan in Madhya Pradesh).
These struggles- are not only numerous, but diverse as well. What is crucial is that in most, no distinction is made between the defence of livelihood systems and social and economic injustice. The ecological, the economic, the social and the cultural are deeply intertwined. This introductory essay presents some preliminary observations and raises issues that are critical in understanding how these collective efforts are striving to build a more just and ecologically sustainable India.
The problems of classification
A label is a political statement. The classification or labelling as ‘environmental’ of the myriad ways in which predominantly rural communities have struggled, fought repression and resisted co-optation is itself a problem. This classification has come primarily from the media, but also from scholars and activists who do not adequately understand the nature, the context and the history of these struggles. An inevitable simplification has resulted where complex socio-cultural and political struggles are reduced to the level of elements of the natural environment : thus the Chipko movement is only about preventing felling, the Narmada Bachao Andolan is anti-dam, the Kashtakari Sangathna wants control over land and forests, etc.
These three movements as well as the ones mentioned above are essentially political movements and while they differ significantly from one another, they are fundamentally different from identity (eg dalit) or industrial working class or unorganised labour mobilisations. The primary difference is that while they seek a fundamental transformation of existing socio-economic structures, including the very patterns of political and economic development, they are centred on rights and control over productive natural resources. In the realisation that this transformation is an essential part of regaining control over land, forests or water systems is the recognition that their struggles seek nothing less than a redefinition of what constitutes the political.
The second classification problem is ‘lesser-known’. Who decides what is ‘better-known’ and what is ‘famous’ ? Why did I call the movements in the first paragraph of this essay better-known ? Does the media’s projection of a movement facilitate this status ? Is it dependent on the capacity and skill of movement participants to make a local issue into a wider issue ? How critical is the role of activists, filmmakers, lawyers and others at the state and national levels ? To what extent is this contingent on the participants’ capacity to have access to those in power ? How is power itself negotiated : by confronting it, seizing it, appealing to it or by creating countervailing power ? Does the lesser-known movement have a higher moral authority than the better-known ? With whom ? Who is listening ? In fact, for most Indians — rural and urban –even the remarkable struggles of our fishworkers on our coastlines or of adivasis across the country, or marginal and landless peasants to secure rights over land are ‘lesser-known’ if not unknown, while for the Warlis of Thane or the Hos of South Bihar, their movements are central to their struggle for a dignified place in the sun.
The third classification problem arises from the term ‘movement’. When does collective action, or a series of protests, become a movement ? Is a coherent ideology necessary for a movement ? Are movements by definition socially transformative in intent ? Is a sustained struggle a movement ? And again, in whose eyes ? The outsiders ? The participants ? Which participants ? Do thousands of scattered assertions collectively represent ‘a movement’ ? I will attempt to answer some of these questions in the rest of this essay.
These three problems are not just semantic. They underscore the understanding and relationship of dominant India with groups and communities who have sustained resistance, revolt and struggle, often against phenomenal odds. Labels are political because they hide attitudes that often define how those in power can ‘make sense’ and ‘manage’ those who are protesting against them.
Culture and nature
The collection of articles in this issue detail sustained efforts to defend the integral relationship that communities have evolved with the natural systems within which they live. Not only is their livelihood dependent on this relationship, their very identities are intrinsically bound to the ecosystems that they inhabit. In fact, the strength and perseverance of many of the struggles over the past two centuries and more are witness to a grossly neglected fact — that culture and nature are deeply interwoven. To a significant extent, India’s cultural pluralism is tied to the ecological pluralism that communities have inhabited. These struggles are therefore also to defend other ways of knowing, other knowledge systems and ways of relating to the natural world which may often be diametrically different from our own. It is natural then that they are often in conflict with the dominant knowledge system and its ways, and being at a disadvantage because of their historical process of dehumanisation, disempowerment and insecurity, their ‘worldview’ is sought to be projected as ‘primitive’, even ‘junglee’ (with all the unfortunate connotations that have come to be associated with that word).
And, while a proportion of India’s biodiversity is protected in our Protected Areas, the full nurturance of life (and the knowledge systems that have both historically evolved and that creatively draw from the present) cannot be divorced from this basic reality - that ecological pluralism must integrally coexist with communities whose livelihoods depend on its sustainability. Given our population density, consumption patterns and the attitudes of a growing number of people, pressure on our fragile ecosystems will only increase. We do not have the vastness of the US, for instance, to justify the exclusion (often coercive) of humans from nature. Humans are an integral part of nature and whatever happens to nature happens to humans most often with an immediacy that is not captured in the crisis of global warming or ocean pollution. The thousands of lesser-known movements reflect this basic truth.
Also, in a growing number of struggles, the older questions of who owns, who controls, who expropriates and who loses are being joined with relatively recent concerns — from ecological sustainability (using from nature only what can be naturally regenerated year after year) to the understanding of global processes (privatisation and marketisation) and policies (of undemocratic and relatively unaccountable institutions like the IMF, the World Trade Organisation and the World Bank) ; from the defence of ecological pluralism to the challenge of building new democratic institutions that can nurture sustainability and justice ; from building strategic alliances (nationally and globally) that seek horizontal democratic partnerships to dramatically rethinking the role of the state (not ‘taking over’ but fundamentally democratising) ; from nurturing life in all its diversity to asserting that people’s security and people’s sovereignty have to be the foundation of national security and sovereignty. The basic issue that most lesser-known movements have highlighted is that the defence of ecological sanity and sustainability cannot be sustained without a frontal critique of the dominant patterns of economic and political development.
To some extent, better-known movements have acquired a political significance beyond their local space - they have confronted power, patronage and policy at the national and even international levels. Lesser-known movements, on the other hand, have had primarily local (at most regional) impacts even though often their aggregate impact which is not easily discernible does influence processes beyond the local. In most cases also, the potential for a lesser-known movement to become better-known is always present. In fact, most better-known struggles were lesser-known at one time and their initial local presence was an important ground for the politicisation of the actors involved in the struggle. Often also, better-known movements fade from public consciousness as the immediate influence and presence of the movements change. Striking examples are the Bodh-Gaya land struggle or the struggle against the Rihand dam (a pioneering struggle against displacement which has been forgotten even by those currently active in struggles against displacement), or even the Birsa or Santhal rebellions, which are part of the historical journey of adivasi and anti-colonial struggles today.
When local farmers and fisherfolk protested against the missile range at Baliapal in Orissa, it touched a sensitive chord among India’s political elite wedded to a militaristic understanding of national security. Within months, a local struggle became a national ‘issue’. On the other hand, a 20-year struggle against the Koel-Karo dam in Bihar remains predominantly a local issue, partly because this anti-dam struggle is overshadowed by the better-known struggle in the Narmada valley.
Three other factors influence the visibility of movements - the role of the media (whether the media becomes interested or is influenced or compelled to become interested is contingent on a variety of factors, from the ‘connections’ of local activists and their supporters ; the empathy of a senior journalist ; the degree to which the state itself gets involved, etc), the class character of movement participants, and the degree to which a local struggle becomes a national or international issue.
Some dilemmas and challenges
The local and the non-local : In so many local struggles, members of the community say that their struggle is not just to oppose but also to become part of a larger, more fundamental critique of the very patterns of political and economic development. Yet, making the balance between the priorities and demands of the local and responding to the pressures from the national and the global has always been an agonising, unresolved battle. Several innovative efforts have been made, ie to assign different tasks to different support organisations while keeping the freedom to respond urgently from the local area. But the uneasiness remains. Additionally, what guarantees are there that the local will not be vitiated by the very processes that are pathologically prevalent in dominant society ?
Yet, the local space can be the site of much greater democratisation and transparency than the national. At the local level, it is more possible to secure full knowledge of local state or even private sector activities. Try ensuring similar transparency in the building of one of urban India’s flyovers or even the financial transactions of our political parties and the challenge of adapting and scaling up from the experience of the local are evident.
The dilemma of popularity : The more sustained a movement and the more its use of creative collective strategies and its capacity to engage the dominating system, the more it becomes the object of ‘development tourism’. Often, this harms the quality of work and its efficacy. The dilemma arises from the fact that popularity can also bring some measure of protection from interests opposed to the movement. The question then centres on whether the movement has the internal self-confidence, strength and organisation to ‘handle’ outsiders. Of course, there are significant variations among the outsiders and many become the ‘diaspora’ of the movement, while others join it locally.
The dilemma of co-optation : Linked with the preceding issue is the almost constant pressure to give up the path of resistance — a pressure that comes both from outside as well as from within the movement. Those in power (particularly governments), infrequently with good intentions, form committees, engage the movements in endless negotiation and dialogue with little conceded at the end (if there ever is an end) of the process. There is also pressure from movement participants to transit from a protest mode to a dialogic mode, often underestimating or not acknowledging the power and interests of those in power. Co-optation and mainstreaming by NGOs and ‘managers’ of dissent whether the state apparatus or in multilateral banks and other development agencies, is a continuous process. Does securing concessions erode the power of the powerful ? Can the powerful be empowered in ways that actually undermine their power ? These are daily questions that engage activists in struggling groups.
Another dimension of co-optation is erasure. The dominant system has continuously sought to erase or devalue the importance of these struggles. A telling example is the almost complete absence in school textbooks of the valiant and creative efforts made by millions of Indians. How many of us know for instance that the first anti-colonial movements were in our adivasi areas ? Additionally, the even more difficult issue is how education legitimises a worldview that privileges the privileged, devalues other knowledge systems and processes of learning, and is therefore at odds with the task of building a just, democratic and ecologically sustainable India.
Control — not just access — over natural resources : There are those, like the Forest Department who see themselves as the guardians of our forests, who are averse to granting control over parts of their domain, arguing that communities are either not reliable or cannot stand up to the pressures of the powerful who are waiting for an opportunity to extract the resource. Various collaborative arrangements — Joint Forest Management, Participatory Watershed Development, etc — have evolved but in most of these, there is still a reluctance among foresters, planners and conservationists to accept control of communities over resources. Not only should the subsistence needs of communities take precedence over the revenue interests of the state, programmes have to be evolved that facilitate the restoration of the ecosystem itself. The challenge is also to evolve mechanisms of monitoring and seeing and not to deny rights over resources that are at the centre of their livelihoods. In fact, the additional challenge has come in the wake of growing ecological consciousness and the realisation that most planning has never taken the ecosystem at its centre. ‘Rural development’ and the panchayat/ gram sabha system has to be re-oriented to make it more ecosystem-centric and oriented to the nurturance and sustainability of natural systems, of life itself. There is an urgent need to learn from and rethink the nature of institutions that can facilitate this.
These challenges are at once immediate and profound. They lie at the very heart of wider processes of realising justice and dignity. Lesser-known movements encompass crucial values of justice, participation, democratisation and pluralism. In the current climate where so much of civil society is uncivil and where so much of our natural environment is under an onslaught - for instance, witness Gujarat’s rivers, most of which are so full of pollutants and filth that they are practically dead — the tendency is to allow this reality to overwhelm, to make us fatalistic. Yet, the fact that in so many countless places, millions continue to struggle is reason for hope. Again, we should not become celebratory. There is no guarantee that these efforts will expand and define the agenda for a major collective process. Not only is there a continuing disillusionment with electoral politics (or any politics), there is a growing depoliticisation of people with conscience who are seeking ‘easier’ ways of social engagement. There is also significant fragmentation preventing an aggregate impact on the dominant system. So the task of seeking to create strong countervailing power and democratising social, cultural, political and economic life is still central, as is the recognition that the wider realisation of the values that so powerfully underlie lesser-known movements is a question of politics — not only of electoral politics which rarely represents people’s aspirations and concerns, even less so in this era of economic globalisation, but the redefinition of politics towards a new ideological crystallisation for a saner, more just India. This collection of articles provides a glimpse at the enormous diversity of initiatives that reflect this reality.
Undoubtedly, there needs to be much greater humility in both recognising the continuity, contribution and role of the lesser-known movements to the legitimacy and presence of contemporary movements, and to the fact that today’s movements draw their historical legacy from movements in history. The realisation of the right to self-rule is rooted in the struggles of the Santhals and Mundas and countless others to defend their dignity and their livelihoods. Additionally, there is a growing realisation that movements have inspired processes. For example, the Beej Bachao Andolan is in clear continuity with the Chipko Andolan. The movements of the past which (whether acknowledged or not) influenced and created the ground for contemporary movements, is our political heritage. Movements influence processes, processes influence movements.
Lesser-known movements thus provide us a crucial window into the range of aspirations that communities and groups at the base of our society feel and act on. The democratisation of local spaces provides a powerful microcosm of both the problems and resolutions that Indian society faces — from how commons are usurped, to how corruption is manifesting itself. From how proud communities and their cultural, knowledge and language systems are being displaced by processes of planned development or by the interests of more powerful national and global forces, to the staggering range of creative initiatives that local communities have been engaged in, drawing on both the experience and wisdom of the past and the possibilities of the present. From insights about how issues are deeply linked — ie the relationship of corruption and the dominant nexus of political and economic interests — or the ways in which cultural and ecological pluralism are under threat to efforts to regenerate and bring back into production even the most degraded of lands. In that sense, lesser-known movements provide us with a vast and diverse array of possibilities and concrete insights towards building an India that is not only socially, culturally, economically and politically more democratic but also just and ecologically sustainable. Remaining deaf and insensitive to these creative voices, voices representing an organic morality, voices that may seem faint but are powerful, will only make us lesser Indians.
