Indigenous Activism in India
In India, the formal position of the state is that all Indians are indigenous to the country. Consequently, no citizen is by birth entitled to rights that surpass those of others (Xaxa 2008). Yet the Indian state has instituted policies of preferential discrimination that aim at improving the position of (among others) the communities it categorizes as “tribes.” The erstwhile colonial administration coined “tribe” as an administrative category, which has however proven difficult to apply. For instance, going by sociological indicators, it is often impossible to distinguish between “tribes” and castes. Inclusion in the category of “tribe,” notably, can be advantageous, given the benefits bestowed by policies of preferential discrimination. There have been quite a few cases where communities earlier categorized as “caste” have managed to be reclassified as “tribe” after a prolonged political struggle.
So what, according to the Indian state, characterizes a “tribe”? According to the Draft National Tribal Policy (a Policy for the Scheduled Tribes of India), “tribes” are “known to dwell in compact areas, follow a community way of living, in harmony with nature, and have a uniqueness of culture, distinctive customs, traditions and beliefs which are simple, direct and non-acquisitive by nature” (Ministry of Tribal Affairs 2006: 2). This suggests that “tribes” are isolated, if not excluded, vis-à-vis encompassing structures such as markets and the state. At the same time, this definition has evolutionist connotations, since “simplicity” of “traditions and beliefs” relegates a “tribal” community to a presumably lower scale on the civilizational ladder. Scholars have severely criticized this usage of the category “tribe” as archaic and deterministic (Bates 1995; Béteille 1998; Rycroft and Dasgupta 2011). Yet many people to whom the concept applies—that is, “tribals”—indicate that they do not necessarily experience it as discriminatory. Quite apart from the question of self-identification, one explanation might be that the Indian state’s preferential discrimination policies are on the whole much appreciated.
Beyond the more immediate interests associated with the categorization of communities as “tribal,” indigenous claim making is more generally of great political significance in South Asia. One region in which this is particularly evident is Northeast India. In Northeast India, activist groups and political parties playing the indigenous card have dominated the political sphere for decades, and the struggle for political power and state-associated resources has mainly been fought along ethnic lines (Vandekerckhove 2009). The region has gained a reputation over the last four to five decades as one of the most troubled parts of the South Asian subcontinent. Ever since India gained independence from colonial dominance, Northeast Indian insurgent groups have disputed the authority of the Indian state. Apart from electoral contests and civil protests, this has resulted in violent confrontations and draconian counter-insurgency measures (Baruah 2005). Geographically, Northeast India is almost entirely surrounded by international borders. This has allowed militants to seek shelter abroad, outside the reach of the Indian security forces. The insurgent groups tend to phrase their cause in ethno-nationalist terms, positioning themselves as representatives of “communities” or “people” who seek a certain degree of self-rule and self-administration to control natural and other resources, vis-à-vis people who are “outsiders” to their homeland (Bhaumik 2009). The most important resource by far is land, and disputes in relation to it are central to all of the insurgencies of the North Eastern region (Barbora 2002; Fernandes 2005).
One area in which ethno-nationalist insurgent groups have, over the last decade, gained increasing prominence is the Garo Hills. Encompassing the western third of the state of Meghalaya, the Garo Hills have seen an ever-increasing number of militants, who battle the Indian security forces.2 More so, these insurgent groups challenge the presence of non-Garo people residing in the area. The prime political demand of these militant groups is the creation of Garoland, a separate Garo state that would continue to be part of the Indian union. The influential student unions of the Garo region, as well as some of the regionally important political parties, support this demand. Contrary to the militant groups the latter operate within the confines of Indian democracy. These political groups are primarily composed of urban-based (or at least urban-educated) activists.
All these various indigenous activists claim, for the Garo, an intrinsic relatedness to land, which they locate almost exclusively within the cultural sphere of the rural “traditional” Garo, located in a “rural” environment. Rather than unquestioningly accepting that the Garo, as a “tribal” community, have an “organic linkage” to nature and land, in this chapter I explore Garo villagers’ perspectives on their environment. The Garo Hills have been subject to major transformations in terms of the utilization of land as a resource. I argue that these contribute to increasingly objectified and utilitarian perspectives on land.
Statements through Calendar Art
Garo urban, indigenous activists refer in their publicity materials to a traditional Garo culture that is inevitably rural. This is evident, for instance, in the calendars that are distributed by local student associations. The calendars are sold in support of these organizations to private persons and shop owners. They are written in the Garo language, and are primarily of relevance to readers (and speakers) of Garo. A calendar distributed by the A’chik [Garo] Youth and Cultural Organisation (AYCO) for the year 2006 emphasized the closeness to nature of the Garo people in its imagery. The top half of the calendar had pictures of Garo Wangala dancing, which is regarded as emblematic of the Garo community (de Maaker 2013a). The lower half was dedicated to shifting cultivation, or swiddening. Swidden cultivation is generally considered the cornerstone of the “traditional” Garo lifestyle, since it is seen as a technology that has been sustained over centuries, and distinguishes the hill-farming Garo from the communities of the plains.
The AYCO calendar had several smaller picture-inserts, one of which shows a group of Garo youths posing as “real tribesmen” in a swidden. Going by the caption of this inserted picture, the men are positioned in the field to guard it against other people, “enemies,” who pose a threat to the control of “Garo soil.” The men are dressed in loincloths, which used to be the dress of Garo villagers but is rarely seen nowadays. The youths also wear turbans on top of their long, uncut hair. The headgear, and the uncut hair, are markers of the Garo community religion, although in reality, men belonging to that religion (Songsareks) never untie their hair in public. Moreover, Songsareks tie their turbans tight, and not loose, as is shown in the picture. It is highly unlikely that the Garo youth shown in the calendar are Songsareks, since without exception all urban Garo are Christians. To anonymize their scarcely clothed bodies, and perhaps to reduce the shame Christians are likely to experience due to being pictured in loincloths, the pictured youths have their backs turned to the camera.
Swidden cultivation continues to be important in the Garo Hills, though it is practiced much less now than it was a couple of decades ago. However, swidden cultivation is primarily, if not only, practiced by villagers. Urban youth do not engage in it. They not only consider it tedious to do such work, but also render it a primitive and ineffective agricultural technique, even though it is “truly” Garo. Then, significantly, the bodies of the men shown in the calendar insert mentioned above are relaxed, even though they are keeping guard, suggesting that they are in an environment that is benevolent, a view in line with the globally increasingly dominant “urban” perspective on nature as beautiful, benevolent, and essentially bereft of danger (Ingold 2011). In this chapter, I attempt to explore the Garo relationship to land and nature. The chapter is based on extensive ethnographic fieldwork that I have conducted in the Garo Hills region over the last fifteen years, starting with an intensive two-year fieldwork period, during which I researched changing religious practices in the context of my PhD.
Founding Myths and the Inheritance of Collective Claims
In the following sections I will discuss how Garo villagers perceive and use land, and the
