Tehelka.com, 13th December, 2008

SHRIYA MOHAN unveils the rationale behind the ancient method of shifting cultivation of the tribals

It feels strange to reach Palami. If you were to be transported there this instant, you would probably think you reached J.M Barrie’s ‘Neverland.’ You are surrounded by densely forested hills as exotic insects and birds battle for your attention. Then you breathe, and a rush of pure oxygen fills your lungs, making you almost dizzy with freshness. After a few initial moments of ‘environmental shock’, the first thing that catches your eye is the unmistaken poverty and hunger in the eyes of the on lookers.
Nobody has ever heard of Palami, a small village located in Kandhamal district of Western Orissa. The districts of Kandhamal and Kalahandi in Orissa are known as the worst poverty inflicted areas of the country, with a staggering 78% of the population living below the poverty line. Palami has a population of approximately 200 people (40 families), with an average population density of 10 people per square kilometre. The ‘Kandha tribes’, one of the sects of the Adivasis, form the majority of Kandhamal, and all of Palami.
Ever since India started getting conscious about forest conservation in the 1980’s, these tribes have been blamed for deforestation in the surrounding jungles. They have faced the wrath of the government, forest conservation bodies and society at large; they have been maligned and termed forest destroyers by the state machinery. The 8th grade Geography NCERT textbook mentions shifting agriculture in page 43 in the chapter on agriculture:
Shifting cultivation is practiced in the thickly forested areas of Amazon basin, tropical Africa, parts of Southeast Asia and Northeast India. These are the areas of heavy rainfall and quick regeneration of vegetation. A plot of land is cleared by felling the trees and burning them. The ashes are then mixed with the soil and crops like maize, yam, potatoes and cassava are grown. After the soil loses its fertility, the land is abandoned and the cultivator moves to a new plot. Shifting cultivation is also known as ‘slash and burn’ agriculture.
And every 8th grader is expected to know the answer to the question “What are the disadvantages of Shifting Agriculture?” without knowing that “Shifting cultivation” was not meant to be destructive in the least.
An interesting study on the Adivasis found at the centre for education and documentation (www.doccentre.net) reads as follows:Adivasis have been very much credited for conserving forests is an established fact in most parts of the country. Hunting and food gathering by Adivasis has been governed by certain rules of conservation. For instance Pregnant or nursing animals cannot be hunted, plucking fruit from trees is restricted and only picking them off the ground is allowed in some cases etc. However in some cases Adivasis have been responsible for cutting trees but this has been due to sheer penury and starvation. Even in shifting agriculture the earlier forest, which was slashed and burnt, regenerates itself. In previous times Adivasis used to return to the used up forest land after a gap of 30 years thereby allowing the forest in the area to become rich in nutrients. Further, it has been noticed and even proved in numerous cases that it is the Indian forest machinery, which has been responsible for destroying forests rather than the Adivasis. Indian society has put undue faith in the bureaucratic machinery to protect forests, and not involving the Adivasis officially (repeat officially, because unofficially they are anyway involved in protecting the ecosystem).
Ashok Behra, forest ranger of Belgaur, a small town in Kandhamal, says the Adivasis are a nomadic community and so burn patches of the forests to grow crops. “They don’t understand the value of the forests. We try to explain to this to them but they have been doing this for generations, and now it’s difficult to make them stop,” he says.
Lakshmi, a key Siali leaf plate seller (Women make leaf plates using Siali leaves that grow in the forests) in Berhampur, agrees, saying the Siali produce has reduced greatly. “Earlier, the forests were saturated with Siali creepers. The Adivasis burn forests and the creeper cannot grow without the support of trees. By burning, they not only destroy the Siali, but make it impossible for it to grow in those areas again,” she says.
According to 'State of Forest Report-2005', released by the Ministry of Environment and Forests on February 13, India has lost 728 sq km of forest cover since 2003. Director General of the Forest Survey of India, Devendra Pandey blamed the continuing practice of shifting cultivation in the northeast, natural disasters like the December 2002 tsunami that destroyed large tracts of forests in the Andamans, and forest fires for losses in forest cover.
The northeastern states have a quarter of the country's forests though they constitute less than 7% of India 's geographical area. The country's 188 districts with tribal majorities too have done better, with 36.81% of the areas under forest cover. These districts account for around 60% of India 's forests. Still, tribal areas lost 635 sq km of forests. Nagaland and Manipur saw the maximum loss in forest cover; these hill areas lost 255 sq km mainly due to shifting cultivation. [Indian express, Feb 14th 2008]
But the fact is that the Adivasis are entirely dependant on forest resources. Palami resident Ranga Mallick says they depend on the forest for everything: sal wood and seeds, amla, harida, bahada, dhoop, bhimbread, shikakai, mahua flowers and their seeds, pathaal garud, honey, til, turmeric, mustard and siali leaves. From building thatched roofs for their houses to meeting their entire food needs and, hopefully, to give them a little extra produce to barter for necessities they cannot cultivate - the Palami families have been living this way for generations.
So why fell trees? Mullick points out that they had no land to grow crops, because it was completely covered by forests. When they tried to cultivate the small patches of non-forest land that existed, either their crops wouldn’t flourish because the soil lacked nutrients (or they would have been wooded too) or because animals from the forest destroyed their crops.
The fact that there is very little land around is eminently visible—the forest starts within a few hundred metres. One can see the patches of cleared forest that have various crops – black dal, paddy, green gram,etc. Of these crops, black dal is the most important, because it fetches the highest price: Rs 30 per kg. “By selling Siali leaf plates and a bit of our produce, each family earns around 100 rupees a month. We use it to buy extra rice and oil. We try to grow everything else,” says Ashok, A palami resident.Why can’t they grow black dal without clearing forests? Or grow cash crops? What’s the real reason behind their reluctance to cultivate on non-forest land? Ranga responds with several reasons: for one, there’s no irrigation facility, no well. Second, there’s never been electricity, so no motorised pump. Finally, they have no money to buy fertilizers. “We are barely surviving. Cultivating in the forest is easy because it requires no fertilizers and no water. The soil is rich and it rains on time.”
Is it surprising then, that when NGOs come calling, trying to teach them to conserve forests, these tribals listen, but remain fundamentally unconvinced? PRADAN, a Delhi based NGO working on rural livelihood initiatives, has recently taken Palami as a project intervention area. “We started an initiative called the forest conservation society a year ago in Palami. We try to make the Adivasis understand why the burning of forests is disastrous for the environment and eventually for their own livelihood. They depend 100 percent on the forest to fulfil most of their survival needs. By burning forests, they are depleting resources for themselves,” says Satish an executive with PRADAN.
Coaxed by PRADAN, these tribals have formed a forest conservation society, vowing not to destroy any more forests, but their problems remain unresolved. “We are both happy and sad about this committee. Happy, because the forest is within reach now and will always be. And sad because these grains and grams are so important to us, and we just cannot grow enough of it. Our families are growing, and so is our food requirement”, says the newly appointed society’s president, Shiva.
The real problem has, however, not been addressed: these tribes are disconnected in every sense from society. They live in total seclusion, in absolute poverty, with no electricity, no water system, no irrigation and no cultivable land. No development reaches them; neither do they have access to any NREGS (National Rural Employment Guarantee Scheme). Neither do they have their BPL (Below poverty line) or ration cards. They live without an identity, in the long shadow cast by social ignorance and government apathy.
And it is these marginalised people that society wants to place in the vanguard of conservation The Adivasis are not people who do not value forests: in fact, they know their value better than anyone else, because their survival depends on them. If the government and civil society wants to conserve forests, they need to work together to provide water supply, irrigation facilities and fertiliser subsidies to these tribes. A forest conservation society with a board of clueless, unconvinced, directors is hardly a solution.