Adivasis as Ecological Warriors: Colonial Laws and Post-Colonial Adivasi Resistance in India’s Jharkhand

Abstract

The growing divide between the capitalist mode of development promoted by the state and the participative development model suggested by the people has brought ecology, environment, and existence to the core of all contemporary debates. The Adivasi (indigenes) who constitute 8.6 percent of the entire population of India are engaged in a constant battle to save their ecology and landscape. Represented as communities whose existence is intertwined with ‘Jal, Jungle, Jameen’ (water, forest, and land), Adivasis are the most prominent communities facing dispossession and displacement from their roots to further the ideology of development in which they have no stake. The notion of Adivasis as ‘savage’, ‘primitive’, and ‘backward’ communities that are incompetent of ‘developing’ themselves, resulting in their ‘backwardness’ gets carried over from the colonial to the contemporary period. Exposed to the processes of mining and industrialisation, Adivasis and their ecological resources have been exploited since the colonial period to suit the development model of the state. The Adivasi notion of selfhood was overlooked in the process of making the areas inhabited by them zones of ‘exclusive governmentality’. The paper argues and analyses this transformation process of Adivasis into ecological warriors; a process in which they used their shared, remembered and lived past to assert their customary rights. Basing the study on three environmental movements of state of Jharkhand in Central India, namely the Koel-Karo movement of the 1980s, the Netarhat movement of the 1990s, and the Pathalgadi movement of 2017–18, the study underlines that the Adivasi of Jharkhand anchored on their customary rights as a weapon, to protect their ecology and landscape against various state-sponsored development schemes. Drawing on the methodology of field investigation, interaction with the NGOs, government reports and media reports, the article argues that these community struggles are rays of hope for a global ecological future.

1. Introduction

The Adivasi (primeval settlers) are the Indigenous and tribal population of India that constitutes 8.6 percent or 10 45, 46,000 people as per the 2011 census.1 Largely residing in two broad zones, i.e., Central India and Northeastern India, they can be found across India. The essay looks into the transformation of these Adivasis from marginalised communities to ecological warriors in the province of Jharkhand in Central India. Based broadly on three environmental movements stretching over three decades in Jharkhand, it discusses how these bow-and-arrow-wielding communities used non-violent methods and collective identities to protect their sacred and lived spaces. Simultaneously, it highlights the inseparable association between the Adivasi and their ecology.

The idea of treating Adivasis as a backward community has its origin in the colonial period. The newfound subjects such as ethnography, anthropology, and anthropometry treated them as races that needed to be studied scientifically. They were treated as animal species and were assessed using measurements of the shape and size of the skull, the face, the nasal index, and the relation of head size to the body size, height, and weight (Sebastian 2015). This kind of treatment had its advantage for the colonialists, as it facilitated their endeavour to classify them as lesser humans who should be civilised and acculturated. Arun Bandopadhyay (2010) explained that the wooded zone of the Adivasi came to be considered a resource-rich zone, supplying wood for ship-building, railways, government departments, and industries. So, colonialists imposed the idea of economic development, exploitation of resources, religion, and administrative structures on them and appropriated their spaces. It was with this intent that developmental design entered the Adivasi areas, dispossessing Adivasis in this process, and settling outsiders in their area.

Their woes started drawing the mainstream’s attention in the post-colonial period when conservationists and environmentalists started looking upon them as saviours of planetary ecological health and portrayed them as ‘ecological noble savages’ across the globe. The term ‘noble savage’ was arguably first used by Dryden in 1672.2 American scholar Ellingson (2001) asserted that the word was first used by French lawyer and explorer Marc Lescarbot in 1609. However, it is generally agreed that Swiss philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau popularised the word. This idea came for further discussion in academia with the article of conservation biologist Kent H. Redford (1991). In the journal Cultural Survival Quarterly article titled ‘Ecological Noble Savage,’ he discussed the European concept of conservation and how Indigenous ecological concerns fit into it. Elaborating further, Nadasdy (2005) argued that the sustainable rapport indigenes enjoy with nature and their surroundings is not driven by their contemporary concerns but by age-old ecological wisdom. The central idea behind this debate was to present indigenes as saviours of the ecological health of the planet. The biggest problem of the planet is its ecological imbalance, and environmentalists aimed to place the burden of preserving it on this minority community across the globe.

With the change in the guiding principle of the modern world and the threats that ecology and the environment are facing due to the over-exploitation of resources, the debates in the academic world also underwent change. The Adivasi community considers the issues of ‘Jal, Jungle, Jameen’ not from a materialist perspective but as sacred and existential spaces that were visualised differently. They began to be visualised as saviours of the environment, leaders of environment justice movements, and ecological warriors. This transformation originated due to a shift in elite perception. Factually, Adivasis still hold on to the values and systems they have been following for ages and that constitute the quintessential element of their existence. It appeared that the mainstream environmentalist concern juxtaposed itself with the indigenous wisdom and portrayed Adivasis as ‘ecological warriors’. In this debate of looking upon them as primitive, savages, noble savage, and backwards that continued in the twentieth century, the process of exploitation of natural resources of their region proceeded unabatedly. The Indian state embraced the colonial ideology regarding Adivasis. Amit Prakash (2011) argues that the structure of law and governance imposed in the Adivasi areas post-independence was overtly centralised, in which Adivasi voices were marginalised, even when raised to protect their spaces. The so-called ‘benefit’ of economic development that came in the form of mining and industrialisation was appropriated by the state, and its ancillaries and Adivasi lands were rapaciously misused. This meant that the Adivasi, who resided largely in Northeastern and Central India and in small numbers in almost all parts of India, would become a part of the policy of ‘exclusive governmentality’ of the state (Ghosh 2008). This policy grossly neglected the Adivasi notion of ownership and existential rights over the places and areas that have constituted their homeland for ages.

This phenomenon was not an isolated one witnessed in the Indian context alone but reverberated across the world, where indigenous communities resided. Scholars across the globe defined it variously. Edelman (2001) observed that the collective action of marginalized communities, especially the indigenes in third-world countries, defined social movements. Meanwhile, where Touraine, Melucci and other European scholars viewed it as an ‘identity-oriented’ new social movement, American theorists labelled it as exploitative. They considered the resource mobilisation of the areas inhabited by indigenes as the underlying reason for the social movements. Latin American scholars, such as Escobar and Alvarez (1992), believe that the social movements that engage in political or cultural contestation observed in their area often appropriate extra-institutional actions. In the context of Latin America, Eckstein (1989) believes that the capitalist injustices rooted in class and market relations sowed by the colonialists are at the base of contemporary conflicts. This protest modality observed worldwide is not different from what we find in India. Gadgil and Guha (1994) observe that the state appropriation of Adivasi lands is the basis of social and ecological conflicts and peasant unrest worldwide. In India, it is observed that Adivasis rely more on customary institutions than democratic institutions and use them as tools to protect their ecology and land. It appears that the state protects the capitalist forces and discriminates against Adivasis, thereby reducing them as warriors engaged in struggles for the protection of their land, ecology, identity, and resources.

In Central India, the issue of development became entangled with the Adivasi landscape, and in the quest of protecting their ‘Jal, Jungle, Jameen’, they emerged as ecological warriors. Since their existential issues are deeply intertwined with land, forest and water, any encroachment on these appeared to violate their natural rights. Various laws made in the colonial period, such as the Indian Forest Act (1878), Indian Forest Act (1927), Chotanagpur Tenancy Act (1908) and others, restricted the claims of the Adivasi on their land and transferred the ownership right of these ecological sources to the state. The environmental history of India gives a larger picture of the destruction of ecological balance (Gadgil and Guha 1992; Rangarajan 2017; Bhukya 2017) in the colonial phase.

The status of ‘subalternity’ was assigned to them by the colonialists. Biswamoy Pati (2001) asserted that the ‘civilising missions’ and the influx of outsiders that outnumbered the Adivasis made them look upon outsiders as Diku (despised outsiders). The basic intention of the Dikus was to control the resources, ecological and human, and this was resisted by the Adivasi. This saw the region turn into a hotbed of revolts in the nineteenth and first quarter of the twentieth century. Adivasis fought to protect their land and their lifestyle, which made them protectors of nature and not owners. Madhav Gadgil (1985) defined it as the ‘ecological prudence’ of the Adivasi. In the process of resisting colonial control and the idea of modern development, they emerged as ecological warriors who used their customary rights to assert their claim over ’Jal, Jungle, and Jameen’ (Sen 2018).

Though the post-colonial Indian state claimed to be a welfare state, the development philosophy was to treat nature as a resource. The making of large industries and dams brought immense suffering to the Adivasi, forcing them to stage resistance movements. Three ecological movements of Jharkhand, namely the Koel-Karo movement of the 1980s, the Netarhat movement of the 1990s and the Pathalgadi movement of 2017–18, are studied in this context as stories of consolidated strength, conscious efforts and endurance of the Adivasi. The appropriation of non-violent strategies by the Adivasi with no central leadership and spirit of collectivism defines the strength of the movement and the ideology of the communities that find more meaning in staying connected to nature than adopting modern development notion.

This nuanced study of Adivasi ecological struggles in contemporary times relies primarily on empirical investigation substantiated by secondary sources and state papers. The alternative sources of field investigation, such as records of the Non-Governmental Organisations (NGOs), interviews, newspaper reports and seminar reports have proved handy in setting up a conversation between the past and the present. The essay is divided into five sections: the first attempts to understand the factors that transformed the Adivasi into ecological warriors, the second overviews the Koel-Karo movement and its success, the third attempts to understand the collective identity and connection of Adivasis with ecology through the Netarhat movement, and the fourth attempts to unravel the customary rights and protection of Adivasi land through the Pathalgadi movement. The final section discusses how these three movements, though small in their scale, developed Adivasi consciousness around ecological issues and the preservation of the Adivasi living traditions.

2. Methodology

This politico-historical study of Adivasi struggles in contemporary India relies primarily on empiricist investigation. The perspective shared in this essay has been developed over almost two decades of my engagement as an academic and researcher in the field. The Adivasi resistance movements are consistent attempts at the protection of their ‘Jal, Jungle and Jameen’ (water, forest and land) in which many agencies are involved. Much work in the field was carried through getting involved with the activists and NGOs working from the forefront. The investigations were carried out over a long period of time, but specifically from November 2017 to February 2018, in Bhandra, Phutkal Toli, Zillinga, Kurunga, Belahati, Kochang, Susunga, Todang and Khunti town, to understand the Pathalgadi movement. Further investigation was carried out for the Netarhat movement from October 2019 to June 2021 in the areas of Mahuadanr, Tutwapani, Jokipokhar, Netarhat, Gutwa, Bijaypur, Gopakhand, Pandra, Chormunda, Soharpat, and others. For the Koel-Karo movement, visits were made to the personal and institutional collection of NGOs, and records were found of block-level offices of Torpa, Tapkara, Murhu and villages of Lohajimi, Kamra and Gutuhatu from July 2020 to November 2022. Following the historical methodology, the field investigations were substantiated by consulting literary sources.

The essay draws on government reports and laws to understand the laws framed for the region in the colonial and post-colonial periods. The forest acts framed in the colonial period, such as the Indian Forest Act (1878), Indian Forest Act (1927), Chotanagpur Tenancy Act (1908), and the Manoeuvres Field-Firing and Artillery Practice Act of 1938, were studied to understand the ground on which the ecological exploitation rests. Further post-colonial laws in Adivasi areas, environmental schemes and state laws, such as Panchayat Extension to Scheduled Areas (PESA), Jharkhand Panchayat Raj Act (JPRA) and other reports related to the state projects were studied to understand the position of the state vis-à-vis the people. The struggle of the Adivasi has been led by the organisations that the community has created. So, the essay draws on the pamphlets, books, papers, correspondences and documentary evidence kept by organisations such as Koel-Karo Jan Sangathan, and Kendriya Jan Sangharsh Samiti. It also takes into account the reports of agencies such as the United Nations, the International Working Group on Indigenous Affairs (IWGIA), and the People’s Union for Civil Liberties (PUCL).

As the essay documents the process of the contestation of rights of the state and the Adivasi communities over ecology, it takes into account the judicial papers and seminar reports and the primary and secondary sources into consideration. In the increasingly mediatised world, this study of the Adivasi perception of selfhood draws on numerous non-structured interviews conducted from 2017 to 2022, press reports, and the local, national and international studies and literature on contemporary issues. The essay attempts to engage with the question of ecology from the Adivasi perspective and recounts and analyses the process that led to big victories for these smaller communities.

3. The Adivasi Notion of Selfhood: Ecological Warriors

The tribes of India use the word Adivasi to define themselves as primaeval settlers or original inhabitants, contesting their names as tribe, autochthone and noble savage in colonial ethnography. The first manifestation of this was the naming of a political party, Adivasi Mahasabha in 1938, created to promote the interest of Adivasis of the Jharkhand region in Bihar (Tirkey 2002). As per the census record of 2011, Jharkhand is home to 8,645,000 Adivasis belonging to 32 different communities, making it the sixth-highest Adivasi population in India.3

However, the words used to denote tribes in India are varied and contentious. The constitution of India mentions them as ‘Scheduled Tribe’ to identify those communities as tribes that are a part of the Fifth and Sixth Schedule of the constitution. The Indian National Congress (INC) prefers to call them ‘Adimjati’ (primitive castes), and the right-wing parties accept them as ‘vanvasis’ (forest dwellers). However, Archana Prasad (2022) believes that the word ‘Adivasi’ is used to proffer a political identity and claim special rights for the ‘original inhabitants’ of a particular territory. In doing so, they also claim the protection of their ancestral culture, customary institutions, and traditional governance structures. However, Virginius Xaxa (1999) is of the belief that the contentious issue of categorisation of tribes is less a case of projecting them as original dwellers, and more about the power to own the land, forest, river, and resources of the territories they inhabit. I argue that in all these nomenclatures, what remains dominant is their inextricable association with their land and forest.

The state of Jharkhand came into existence due to half a century of demand by Adivasis in the year 2000. The name Jharkhand, meaning ‘land of shrubs’, highlights the inextricable rapport between the Adivasi and ecology. So ideally, the state’s role is to keep the land, forest and the Adivasi. Adivasi scholar Christopher Lakra (1999) believes that self-perception is an overall evaluation of oneself and others. In describing the Oraons of Central India, he discusses how they rank themselves highly. In the works of Nandini Sundar (2023), another large community of Central India, i.e., the Mundas, appears to carry high self-esteem. They do not consider themselves inferior to anyone. She mentions that Jaipal Singh Munda, President of Adivasi Mahasabha, took pride in calling Adivasis the state’s first inhabitants. In his meetings that were attended by thousands of Adivasis, they looked upon themselves as the son of soil on the above forum (Kujur 1956, pp. 127–44). Another Adivasi leader of the Mahasabha, Ignes Kujur, considered land, forest, free spirit and the capacity to live happily in all conditions as essential components of Adivasi identity. Adivasis celebrated their culture and symbols and considered their distinctiveness necessary to be duly recognized in independent India (Kujur 1956).

They upheld this self-esteem even on international forums such as the United Nations. The Adivasi activists from Jharkhand, who are active on international forums such as the United Nations and International Working Group on Indigenous Affairs (IWGIA), insisted that indigeneity is the bond of ethnic identity that combines the diverse communities of the Adivasi of Central and Eastern India. It was not a mark of subordination but an attempt to empower themselves in a right-driven state, run on the logic of a nation-state system, to assert collective rights without seeking the approval of others (Karlsson 2003). Sen (2018) believes that Adivasis are custom-based, autonomous and self-sufficient societies. Whereas discussing the Adivasi of Northeast India, Guite (2019) believes that the idea of the landscape for them includes their lived spaces and imagined ‘netherland’ as remembered spaces. In believing in the spirit world and guardian deities, they considered the same territory to be under the joint control of men and god, whose prior approval men required to settle and use.

As the protectors of the environment and their autonomy, it would be completely wrong to perceive that Adivasis had no idea of their neighbouring communities ‘development’ and ‘resourceful’ living. However, they chose to live in woodland and their ancestral land, as they were central to their identity and existence. Before the onset of the modern period, when Adivasi-dominated regions came under feudal rule, there was a divide between the core, i.e., the ruling class, and the periphery, i.e., Adivasis, regarding recognition and the idea of development. This eventually led to clashes that have continued until the twenty-first century. Studies conducted by scholars such as DasGupta (1982), Gerard Heuze (1996), Sukumar Banerjee (1981), and Haldar (1977, 1981) reveal that the Adivasi of Central India lost their land, livelihood and identity after being displaced. Jharkhand has 7.46 million hectares of land and more than one-fourth of its population is that of the Adivasi, under threat of displacement (Mundu 2010). Therefore, there is a huge outcry against this idea of development, which victimises Adivasis more than benefitting them. In the study on Dongaria Kondhs of Niyamgiri hills in Odisha, Padel and Das (2010) have classified the mining of the Adivasi landscape as ‘cultural genocide’. In this case, Adivasis won their right to existence claiming their natural right over their sacred and cultural landscape that was in tandem with nature. Naturally, Adivasis have emerged as ecological warriors not only because of the ideological rooting of their culture but also because of the development design that threatens their identity and existence.

The movements under review manifest that the Adivasi of Jharkhand continue to revive their claims over the lived spaces by upholding their close affinity with nature as the sacred space. The Koel-Karo movement countered the power project by raising the issue of protection of Sarnas (sacred groves) and Sasandiris (burial grounds). These upheld this as sacred, home to the guardian spirits and untouched sacrosanct spaces. In Netarhat, the indigenes clubbed the issue of forest and the issue of survival of the endangered Primitive Tribal Group (PTG). In the Pathalgadi movement, customary institutions of local self-government of the Adivasi such as Parha Panchayat were used to restrict the entry of the state in their territory. These largely non-violent movements mark Adivasi responses to the idea of development. Meanwhile, the global north is debating over the idea of development and movements led by Greta Thunberg, advocating localising development and protecting the earth. These Adivasi movements can be called ‘environmental selfhood’ struggles to preserve their identity and their landscape. While the state classifies these movements as law-and-order issues, and seeks to curb them with force and coercion, Adivasis uphold them as existential issues and perceive themselves as ecological warriors. The following section engages in their struggle to protect water resources and preserve their spaces from the state’s uncalled-for development scheme.

4. Koel-Karo Movement of the 1980s: Adivasis as Water Warriors

The policy planners of the 1950s, guided by the contemporary trend of building big dams, visualised the delicate ecology and the biodiversity of the Adivasi-dominated areas that had rich flora and fauna as resources. Based on unscientific surveys and exaggerated project outcomes, they launched big and small dams and giant factories, resulting in massive Adivasi displacement. A retrospective overview of many of these projects unveils that Adivasis were penalised in a way that they lost their identity, culture, land, livelihood, histories and community bonds. Ironically, most of these projects of Jharkhand, such as the Swarnarekha project4, Surangi dam project in Tamar (Sharan 1997), Koel-Karo project of Khunti5, Netarhat field firing range of Latehar district (Singh 2020), and the Heavy Engineering Corporation (HEC) of Ranchi are in tatters now and considered to be flawed and ill-conceived state projects. These failures affirm the apprehensions of ecologists and Adivasi leaders.6

Ironically, the landscape’s woes were rooted in the richness of its natural resources. The availability of almost 40 per cent of the country’s minerals in the area alone made the state a cynosure for entrepreneurs. The state leads in copper, coal, kyanite, and mica production. Threatened by mining and other development projects, Jharkhand has many big and small industries, yet it lags severely in terms of the people’s development parameters.7 Utilisation of the state’s water resources is an added attraction for the policy planners. Starting in 1948 with the Damodar River Valley project, the Koel-Karo Dam project was proposed in the second five-year plan (1956–61) for electricity generation and irrigation.

Branded as a community that was anti-development, barbaric, and backwards since the colonial period by British ethnographers such as E. T. Dalton (1872), Adivasis became targets of repressive action of the state. Overlooking the welfare of Adivasis, the post-colonial administrators conceptualised grandiose schemes for the region. They believed that being agrarian communities, Adivasis would favour irrigation projects (Shah 2005, p. 4896). Under this pretext, they exploited the water resources for capitalist development. Ecologically conscious and facing the threat of displacement, Adivasis were opposed to these projects from the beginning.

The Koel-Karo project proposed to construct two dams—at Basia on the South Koel River and Lohajimi on the North Karo River in South Bihar (now Jharkhand, Figure 1). Connected by a 34.7 km canal, the two dams were expected to generate hydel power of 710 MW daily. Furthermore, the project was assumed to irrigate areas of Ranchi, Gumla and Singhbhum districts. To construct the dams, 55,000 acres of land were to be acquired with the consent of the inhabitants, who were not involved in designing the proposal (Bharti 1991).8 The insensible state did not back the project with a resettlement and rehabilitation package that would displace people of 112 villages and 7063 families (Ibid). The initial estimated project cost of INR 137 crore was revised to INR 1338.8 crore in 1991. Naturally, Adivasis were determined to protect their land and water resources. They conducted their own survey and found that more families, 152 Sarnas (sacred grove) and 300 Sasandiris (burial places) would be submerged.9

Adivasis of the region appropriated the strategy of collective protest to oppose the state. Initially, those who lived close to the Karo River formed the ‘Jan Sanyojan Samiti’ (People’s Coordination Committee) and those living around River Koel formed the ‘Jan Sangharsh Samiti’ (People’s Struggle Committee). The two came together and formed the ‘Koel-Karo Jan Sangharsh Samiti’ (Koel-Karo people’s struggle organisation) KKJS (Ibid). KKJS led the struggle, with many helping hands coming from different quarters. The Christian organisations, especially the institutes of higher learning that had people from the area, sought to take the help of the judiciary. The Xavier Institute of Social Service (XISS), Ranchi, a premiere centre of higher learning, conducted a seminar to discuss the policy of environmental threats due to large dams in 1984.10 B.P Lakra of XISS submitted a petition to the Supreme Court in 1984, challenging the eviction of Adivasis from the Koel-Karo project area. The apex court directed the government to introduce a resettlement package for the Adivasi and abstain from forceful eviction. The state was in a bind, challenged by its laws and the customary rights of the Adivasi. Adivasis claimed that their Sarnas and sasandiris, which the project would destroy, were sacrosanct, needed protection and could not be relocated. This converted the customary rights of the Adivasi into legal ownership rights, which they used to safeguard their land and stream.

The pervading idea in Jharkhand was that the Adivasi existence and their ecology and landscape were threatened and they needed to oppose it as a community. Nandini Sundar (2005) reasons that the Adivasi have been raising the fight of following alternative modes of development models that suit native ecology and people. However, when these arguments fail to protect their land, livelihood, and landscape, the threatened Adivasi groups look for alternative strategies. The logic of preservation of religion and culture comes becomes helpful, and there is greater social acceptance for this, and it is also acceptable to the law of the land. These religio-social-cultural-ecological spaces that have been a quintessential part of Adivasi existence meant protecting the loss of land and forest, and their identity and belief systems. Sarnas and sasandiris became the perfect models for making the Adivasi rooted in their landscape and protecting them (Niyogi 2018).

The project was kept in abeyance due to a huge outcry. However, it reappeared at regular intervals but had to take a backseat due to Adivasi resistance. The project was revived in 1995 when then Prime Minister P.V Narasimha Rao planned to lay the foundation stone. KKJS countered it by making its volunteers active at the village level to develop an understanding of the issue. It declared that 5 July 1995, the proposed date of the Prime Minister’s visit, would be celebrated as ‘Sankalp Diwas’ (Day of Commitment) to focus the resolve of the Adivasi as saviours of land, forest and river. To avert conflict, the PM cancelled his visit. As the government did not announce the abrogation of the project, the apprehensive Adivasi ecological warriors celebrated 5th July as ‘Sankalp Diwas’ in 1995 and continued to do so every year until 2005.

The issue reappeared within thirteen days of the formation of a new state on Adivasi identity, i.e., on 28 November 2000. The Bhartiya Janata Party (BJP)11-led government headed by Babulal Marandi (an Adivasi himself) declared its intention to revive the Koel-Karo project.12 This disappointed and alarmed the KKJS activists, who were ready for any sacrifice to protect their landscape. The situation took a confrontational turn on 1st Feb 2001 when the gate built by the Adivasi as a symbolic barrier to restrict entry of the state was broken by the police. A member of KKJS was beaten by the police when he resisted breaking the gate. This led to mass gatherings, which became violent, according to the police. However, KKJS claims that it was a peaceful protest on which police resorted to indiscriminate firing. In this firing, seven Munda Adivasis and one Muslim were killed, together with thirty injured. One policeman also died whose body was found burnt the next day with a burnt police jeep and other things from the police station.

This firing generated a huge uproar among the Adivasi, who felt cheated after the formation of a state on Adivasi identity. Many NGOs and organisations, such as XISS and JOHAR (Jharkhand Organisation for Human Rights), actively engaged themselves in the struggle. Victims of the proposed displacement scheme of building an army field firing range at Netarhat, a picturesque place in nearby Palamau range hills also came up in large numbers to show a sense of solidarity with the victims of the Koel-Karo Project.13 The KKJS embellished the victims of the movement as Shaheed (martyrs) and a small temple for the martyrs was erected at Tapkara (Figure 2), the local town of the vicinity. Every year since 2001, Adivasis of the area gather on Feb. 1, 2 and 3 to pay their homage.

Nathan and Dayal (2009) believe that in natural resource-rich Jharkhand, the ruling elites are guided by the ‘phenomenon of resource curse’ visible in failed African states, where natural resources are leased to free the ruling elite from the burden of taxation for the ruling state. The state finds itself opposed to community interest because the aim is to make money in the limited time they have in power. In this situation, the state became an oppressor, and the issues of protecting natural resources are left to the community’s consciousness. The environmental justice movements against dams have succeeded across the world in regions where they have succeeded to bring in urban intelligentsia (Shah et al. 2019) which acts as a catalyst in raising the community’s demand at a broader platform. The Koel-Karo movement succeeded in creating such ties and brought the struggle and pains of the Adivasi to a larger audience, ultimately transforming the success of the movement. It also made sarnas and sasandiris perfect models of Adivasi cultural and ecological sacred spaces, thereby using them for the protection of their landscape (Niyogi 2018). The movement in the neighbouring Netarhat forest followed them closely.

5. Adivasi Resistance to Save the Forest of Netarhat

Barely 180 kilometres from this area of the Koel-Karo movement was a lush forest that became witness to another round of Adivasi ecological protest. Considered to be a hidden gem of Chotanagpur, Netarhat is a hill and forest tract marked by beautiful pat (peaks with flat tops). It is adjacent to the Khunti and Gumla district, with many Adivasi communities. The region is home to rich wildlife, including tigers, hyenas, leopards, elephants, deer, and other wild species. After independence, it was declared to be a safe zone for foxes and tigers. The Palamau Tiger Reserve (PTR) and Mahuadanr Fox Sanctuary were declared to be a part of this area. Since the colonial period, forest policies were designed to impose restrictions on Adivasis and give the state unhindered access to the forest. This restricted the movement of the Adivasi villagers inside the forest (Vasan 2005). The official perception was that forest management should not involve Adivasis inhabitants and that the state should be the sole preserver.14 This process started with the Indian Forest Act of 1878, which exploited the forest as a matter of ‘right of conquerors’ enforced by law. The act curtailed the customary rights of the Adivasi and villagers living near the area. The idea was further reinforced by the Indian Forest Act (IFA) (1927), which formed the legal foundation of all forest ownership, use and management in India. It has acted as a lighthouse for all forest-related classification, laws, statutes and acts.

The Adivasi believe that the forests do not belong to anyone but the almighty. It is the place where their Adivasi bongas (spirits) and purkha (ancestors) reside. Threatened by the designs of the state, the Indian army utilised the forest’s serenity, peace and calm since independence for firing practices. This caused unimaginable decimation of the flora and fauna and threatened Adivasi life. This process was so deep and pervasive that many times it spread to thousands of miles and led to local resistance, arson, and breaking laws by the Adivasi that were dealt with iron hands as merely law-and-order issues (Guha 1999). Alarmed by the insensitive attitude of the state and over-exploitation of the forest resources, some youth of the region resorted to the violent ideology of Naxalism that has turned the area into a hotbed of Naxalism since the 1990s (Toppo 2020).

The army had been conducting firing practice in the area since 1956. However, in 1992, it came up with the scheme of converting the area into an ‘Army field firing range’. The area that was home to 12 Adivasi communities, including the members of Primitive Tribal Group (PTG) such as Asur, Birhors, and Birajia, was exposed to regular firing practise by the army from 1956 to 1993. The army came for yearly or biannual firing practise in the villages of Khairipat, Chatasari, Chauradih, Orsapat, Kathupani, Mumbarpat, Polpolpat, Ramjharia, Ambakona and Barpat. They did not care or compensate for the loss of life and property in these annual affairs.15 In September 1992, the Indian army announced that the area would be converted to a field firing range. Two state orders dated 25th November 1991 and 25th March 1992, under section 9(1) of the Manoeuvres Field Firing and Artillery Practices Act, 1938,16 notified an area of 1471 sq. km (covering 245 villages in six blocks of two districts) for periodical field firing and artillery practice for ten years as the ‘Netarhat field firing range’.

This order threatened almost 256 villages with a population of more than 200,000, mostly Adivasis (Kujur 2015, p. 15). The Adivasi of Netarhat (Figure 3), who witnessed a similar brunt in the neighbouring area of the Koel-Karo project, were alarmed. Following the example of the Koel-Karo movement, they founded an umbrella organisation, ‘Netarhat Field Firing Range Pilot Project Jan Sangharsh Samiti’ (JSS). The organisation kept bringing books and pamphlets that tried to explain to the inhabitants the nature of the protest, the background, and the non-violent means through which the movement’s goal could be furthered (Visthapna Ka aatank: Pilot Project Netarhat Ka ek Sankshipt Itihas 2005). Later it assumed the name of ‘Kendriya Jan Sangharsh Samiti’ (KJSS) (Figure 4).17 On 23rd March 1994, the proposed date for firing practises, almost one lakh people gathered at Tutwapani-Jokipokhar, the flat piece of land in the area of Chechari valley, to show their defiance of the authority.18 These undeterred people forced the army contingent to go back. The negotiations that followed between the state and KJSS assured that the area would not be used for firing practice in the future. However, the notice of the army coming for practice in this region continued until 1997. Instead, on 2 November 1999, the Bihar government passed a resolution declaring its intent to extend the period of Notification for firing range until 2022. Since 1995, the KJSS has been organising peaceful Satyagraha on 22nd and 23rd March each year to celebrate the victory of the peaceful protest and to pressurise the government to cancel this notification (Basavi 1995).

The army had been conducting firing practice in the area since 1956. However, in 1992, it came up with the scheme of converting the area into an ‘army field firing range’. The area that was the residence of 12 Adivasi communities, including members of the Primitive Tribal Group (PTG), such as Asur, Birhors and Birajia, was exposed to regular firing practice by the army from 1956 to 1993. The army came for yearly or biannual firing practise in the villages of Khairipat, Chatasari, Chauradih, Orsapat, Kathupani, Mumbarpat, Polpolpat, Ramjharia, Ambakona and Barpat. They did not care or compensate for the loss of life and property in these annual affairs.19 In September 1992, the Indian army announced that the area would be converted to a field firing range. Two state orders dated 25 November 1991 and 25th March 1992, under section 9(1) of the Manoeuvres Field Firing and Artillery Practices Act, 1938,20 notified an area of 1471 sq. km (covering 245 villages in 6 blocks of 2 districts) for periodical field firing and artillery practice for ten years as the ‘Netarhat field firing range’.

The Adivasi raised the slogan of Jaan Denge, Jameen Nahin (we will give lives not land), which was written on all walls, pamphlets and public meetings that were called in the area (Mishra 1996). There can be little doubt that the community that was endangered by state laws and was forced to give up its land, life, home, livelihood and identity considered all available options to protect its space. As a community that considers the use of weapons such as bows, arrows, axes, knives and others as its embellishment, violent retaliation was an option that naturally appealed to them. However, after much thinking and inspired by the Koel-Karo movement, the Adivasi considered Satyagraha (insistence for truth) as their strategic tool.

The movement also looked for judicial solutions but failed to yield positive results. So, the activists used mixed strategies such as mass mobilisation, lobbying with policymakers and media campaigns for awareness as their tools in non-violent protests. Patrick Oskarsson (2018) upholds that since the Samata judgement of 1997,21 legal activism has ceased to be the primary tactic for preserving Adivasi land. Before this period, it had a wider appeal amongst the Adivasi and was deployed by agencies working for the Adivasi spaces. Since, this judgement, it was experienced that mass mobilisation and social movements are desirable to avert Adivasi dispossession from their land. The issue of destruction of Adivasi ecology and landscape has been threatening Adivasi lands in states like Jharkhand that were formed for the preservation of Adivasi land and identity. Within a decade of the formation of Jharkhand mining, deforestation, grandiose development schemes, and river projects threatened Adivasi life. Alarmed by these measures, the Adivasi resorted to using their customary rights to prevent the entry of the state and its machinery in their area which subsequently led to the beginning of the Pathalgadi movement in Ranchi, Khunti and Simdega districts of Jharkhand in 2017–18.

6. Pathalgadi Movement and Weaponising Customary Rights as Defence

Capitalist models of development continue to attract policymakers in the twenty-first century, when ecological destruction became more blatant with every scheme of state. One such grandiose scheme was the global investors’ summit titled “Momentum Jharkhand” organised by the Jharkhand government in the capital city Ranchi on 16–17 February 2017. The BJP-led government, headed by Chief Minister Raghubar Das, invited investments worth INR 300,000 crores (Singh 2019), purporting to make the state a hub for investments in mining and industries. The government proposed a “land bank” scheme, in which it was estimated that thousands of acres of non-cultivable land would be leased out to the companies for “development purposes” (Parashar and Toppo 2018). Agitated and alarmed, the Adivasi responded with the customary practices of Pathalgadi (erection of stones).

While Dungdung et al. (2022) claim that the movement began in the year 2016 in the Chamri village of Khunti district, local media and other scholars (Singh 2019; Tete 2018) maintained that it originated on 9th March 2017 from Bhandra village, a Mundari Khuntkatti village in the Khunti district. Under threat of displacement and dispossession for decades, Adivasis apprehended the appropriation of their land for these schemes. The protection that the Adivasi land enjoyed since the colonial period through the Chotanagpur Tenancy Act of 1908 and the Santhal Parganas Tenancy Act of 1876 (Repealed 1949) was nullified by the passage of subsequent by-laws that curbed some of these protections. The digitisation of land records was about to start, and the Adivasi feared that under the pretext of digitisation, these laws would be repealed, and their land would be transferred to land banks and given to capitalist companies.

A study by the People’s Union for Civil Liberties (PUCL), a national human rights organisation, showed that over 7.4 million Adivasis have been displaced in Jharkhand due to state projects between 1950 and 1990. Out of these, only 1.8 million were rehabilitated, and the rest, 5.6 million, over three-fourths of the displaced Adivasis, were left abandoned by the state.22 Despite being declared a Fifth Schedule area, Adivasis have not benefitted from the schedule’s provisions. The apprehension of further land alienation to sustain the government’s agenda prompted them to use the customary practice of Pathalgadi (Figure 5) as a weapon for the protection of their land.

Pathalgadi is an age-old customary practice of the Adivasi of Central India, especially Mundas and Kharias. These previously non-literate communities have erected large pieces of stone for a variety of purposes. They are used to mark the boundary of the village, as burial stones, to identify ostracised members of society, to demarcate land ownership, to announce family trees, to mark happy, sad or significant occasions, and to ascertain rights (Divyanshu 2018). This practice was reinvented in 2017, when they ceremoniously erected green painted large stone slabs on the village’s boundary. Written in white, these stone pieces claimed authority from the traditional Gram Sabhas (Village assembly) that drew legitimacy from the customary Parha-panchayat system by the Mundas and Oraons, Manki-Pir System by Hos, Manjhi-Parganait system by Santhals, Doklo-Sohro by the Kharias and various other names depending on the Adivasi communities to which they belong. They quoted Article 13(3)(a), Article 19 (5)(6), Article 244 (1)(b), para 5 (1) of the Fifth Schedule of the Indian constitution and imposed prohibitions on the entry of outsiders in the area. These prove that they still preferred to rely on these traditional panchayats, despite the central government’s introduction of Panchayati Raj in the state.

The Pathalgadi stones erected in 2017–18 claimed to incorporate the provisions of PESA (Panchayat Extension to Scheduled Areas) passed by the parliament in 1996. PESA is supposed to recognize, empower and promote the social, economic, cultural and political way of life of the Scheduled Tribes (Adivasis). Nineteen districts of Jharkhand come under the Fifth Schedule area of the constitution that gives special rights to the Adivasi in observing their customary laws, social and religious practices and traditional management of community resources. However, overlooking the provisions of the Fifth Schedule, Jharkhand passed the Jharkhand Panchayati Raj Act (JPRA) in 2001, and panchayat elections were conducted in 2010, 2015, and 2022 on its basis. The JPRA does not include the provisions of the PESA Act, which has empowered the state to acquire and incorporate the Adivasi lands in land banks that were intended to be given to the corporate houses. These would include many sarnas, sasandiris and khuntkatti lands. Simultaneously, the Pathalgadi movement that restricted the entry of outsiders to the Adivasi villages was declared unlawful (Singh 2022).

Adivasi activist and litterateur Vandana Tete (2018) questions the basic premise of declaring the Pathalgadi movement unconstitutional and the registration of more than ten thousand cases on its participants and supporters. She also bases her argument on the Samata Judgement of the Supreme Court of 199723 that ruled that Adivasis could exploit minerals in Scheduled Areas without disturbing the ecology or the forest lands, either individually or through cooperative societies, with financial assistance from the state. Her sentiments reflect the sentiments of the Adivasi, which states that if Adivasis are quoting the provisions of the constitution and writing it on stone slabs, then they are exercising their constitutional rights. The state responded by declaring the movement as anti-state and unconstitutional. It even tried to link the movement with the opium cultivation prevalent in the area. Many activists were arrested and the state responded with a heavy hand. Amidst heavy repression by the state, the movement spread to Chhatisgarh, Odisha, Madhya Pradesh, Gujarat and Rajasthan.24

The questions of land became entangled with the Adivasi identity and opposed the existing idea of development, which emphasises mining, industrialisation and urbanisation. The movement restricted the entry of outsiders into the village without the permission of Gram Sabha as they were considered to be the careers of this ideology. The state machinery was challenged by taking police and district officers hostage. The other modes of resistance were organising gheraos (mass encircling) of the police station, opening up an Adivasi bank, introducing Adivasi schools and syllabuses, boycotting government schemes and projects, declaring voter identity cards and Aadhar cards as anti-Adivasi documents, boycotting Durga Puja and Ramnavami procession of the Hindu majoritarian community, imposing fine on villagers for attending it and such related things (Prabhat Khabar, Ranchi, 24 February 2018, Hindustan, Ranchi, 26 February 2018, 14 March 2018). The methodology adopted tried to safeguard ‘Jal, Jungle, Jameen’ and laid bare the Adivasi sentiments against land expropriation, displacement and environmental degradation (Singh 2020).

Though short-lived, the movement saw many changes on the ground. In the successive state assembly elections of 2019, the Jharkhand Mukti Morcha, the party that claims to represent the Adivasi sentiments, won the election on this agenda. In its first cabinet meeting, the Hemant Soren-led JMM government dropped Pathalgadi sedition cases (Indian Express, Ranchi, 29 December 2019) (Angad 2019). The changes in the CNT and SPTA act that threatened the Adivasi land were also withdrawn. The struggle to safeguard Adivasi land succeeded, although marginally. Adivasis were successful in protecting their ecological spaces by upholding their customary practices, and in doing so, they emerged as ecological warriors.

7. Conclusions

The end of the Second World War brought the world to a new era of development, where the First World nations considered it their pious duty to cater to the development needs of underdeveloped countries, referred to as ‘Third World’ (Escobar 1952). In the garb of giving these countries a ‘fair deal’, Western models of growth and development were imposed on them. Talat Asad (1973) also maintains that the perception of the indigenes in the post-colonial and neo-colonial periods is decided by the power structure that controls the world. The Adivasi perception of ecology and the environment has not changed with time; what has changed is the perception of the world in relation to them. The aforementioned descriptions have brought us to the centre of this existing global debate that the challenge faced by the planet is huge, and the Western models of development and modernity cannot help us in finding solutions. Ghosh (2008) asserts that politics of identity and governmentality are at the core of the transnational discourse of indigeneity. The anthropological gaze of the colonial period that classified the Adivasi as a species close to animals has transformed into respect for them as ecologically aware communities. The modern ecological thought is to view them as indigenes with territory and culture. The indigenes of Australia, Latin America, and Africa are opposing the uncalled-for intrusion into their spaces and are engaged in a struggle with the neo-colonial forces. The struggles of the Adivasi over their ecological spaces have to be visualized in the context of this global debate, where the global south questions the models of development of the global north. Sergio Sauer (2012) argues that this rush for the appropriation of land has to be seen beyond the parameters of price, exchange value and national and local interest. In the framework of the nation-state, these Adivasi struggles can be situated within the framework of citizenship rights, in which Adivasis emerge as conscious communities aware of their rights and culture, making them owners of their destiny. Adivasi ecological struggles in India have to be seen with a similar lens as the struggles of the Australian and Latin American indigenes.

The three movements discussed above present the story of the Jharkhandi Adivasis longstanding struggles to save their landscape and identity. Defending their deeply intertwined forest-, land-, water-, wildlife-, and ancestral abode-centric identity immediately qualifies them as ecological warriors. Their struggles have generated debates and discussions over the model of development adopted by the state vis-a-vis Adivasi models of co-existence with nature. From being considered noble savages, they have emerged as ecological warriors. Successfully raising questions on the utility of grand schemes considered important development models. With the world on the brink of ecological disaster, these movements appear as flickers of hope for humanity and ecology. What is important is that these small movements have vindicated the people’s grit to withstand the mighty state that continued for many years peacefully. So, it emerges that they are not just an outcome of momentum caused by an act of oppression or an opposition to a state law. They have emerged as sustained efforts to protect, preserve and live in the world that the waves of development have threatened. It is not an idea that merely includes economic well-being, but a more significant phenomenon of life that includes everything within its fold. Between the contestation of laws and Adivasi resistance, big projects and environmental stability, what outshines and is protected is ecology, and in this, the security of Earth and humankind.