Common Language Project: Multimedia that Matters

Saving the Sal Trees Direct Action in the Tribal Hills of Chhattisgarh

By Sarah Stuteville April 21, 2006

Chhattisgarh, INDIA – "Zindabad!" shouts Bindia Bai, pressing her hands together in greeting as she sits down on the hard-packed mud floor to meet with fellow village women in the sunny courtyard of her home. This revolutionary rallying cry meaning "victory" echoes throughout Batka Behra village and has been spreading across the remote tribal hills of Chhattisgarh state in recent months. A new movement challenging government corruption and resource co-option is building among these ancient people.

Bindia and other indigenous people in the tribal region of Koriya live largely in isolation from mainstream Indian society, and survive through hunting and gathering from the surrounding forests supplemented by small-scale farming. Commonly referred to simply as “the tribals,” their way of life has long been considered backward by outsiders. The communal nature and extreme isolation of their society have made them ready targets for exploitation.

Despite constitutional promises made in the interest of tribals to ensure food security and protection against land displacement, pervasive corruption and a lack of interest in their needs have compromised enforcement of these laws. Most of India’s tribals, who now make up roughly 8 percent of the total population, have seen their land and resources dwindle in recent generations.

"When we were children these forests were filled with bamboo plants, which we used for weaving and tools," says Bindia, describing the changes she’s seen in her lifetime, "but then the people from Birla Corporation came and now there is no bamboo."

The Forest Development Corporation (FDC – a for-profit department of the Indian government) arrived three months ago with intentions of clearing the land of old growth Sal trees in favor of a lucrative teak plantation, which would be useful as timber but would not support a viable ecosystem. But Bindia and fellow Batka Behra village women were determined that the Sal would not vanish as the bamboo had.

Armed with only their chant of "Nari Shakti, Zindabad!" (Women’s Power, Victory!), more than 100 women marched into the forest to confront the loggers. Recognizing they were outnumbered, the loggers relinquished their tools to the angry women and fled. Those successfully confiscated tools remain locked away in the house of the Sarpanj – the elected village head – and to date the logging has not resumed.

The fight for the Sal forest is not the first political undertaking of Batka Behra’s women. They started organizing two years ago when coalitions insisted that a government doctor visit their village more often. They went on to protest price gouging by distributors of government-subsidized rice, and then to advocate for a more nutritious lunch menu at the local government school. That campaign resulted in the statewide adoption of their new menu. These victories inspire pride in the women of Batka Behra, but it is the fight for the forest that will ultimately determine the fate of their lives and livelihoods.

"We get everything that we need to survive from the forest," says Bindia, explaining the complexity of the tribals’ dependency on and relationship with the forest. "We get leaves and seeds and food and firewood. If the government cuts these trees and replants teak, we won’t be able to get what we need to live."

This crucial battle for control over their resources has galvanized many in the area, encouraging Koriyans from diverse tribes to work together.  The esteem that the Batka Behra women are held in is evident when they inspire an impromptu community meeting at the site of an FDC clear cut, where tribal villagers face off with security guards posted to protect the fallow timber stacked along the roadside.

"The government will listen and hear them out," says one FDC guard in response to the passionate shouting coming from the small knot of angry villagers that has gathered around him. "This is what the majority of people are saying and so I’m liking it."

But gaining the sympathy of the higher level officials behind the logging project won’t be so easy. In many cases, the financial motivations for clearing the forest far outweigh any desire to protect the tribal way of life. The Sal trees that are being cut to make way for the plantation can fetch up to 10,000 rupees (about $250) each, and the Maoist Naxalite insurgency threatening this area provides both a motivation to establish a government presence in the forest, and a good excuse to suppress any resistance to such projects.

Despite these barriers, the women of Batka Behra remain determined to save the forest and have called a gathering of Koriyan communities and preservationists to meet with government representatives in an effort to permanently halt the logging. But even if these legal channels fail, the women of Batka Behra maintain that they will use any means necessary to protect their trees.

"First, when the men came to take the bamboo, we were even afraid of the motorcycles they rode in on and we ran away," says Bindia, emphasizing how the bitterness of that past wrong fuels the current struggle. "Now we know we cannot afford to be afraid."