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For a little over a month starting in June, the sun does not set in the small town of Bodø in Norway. This is a result of the tilt of the earth’s axis towards the sun in the summer months, which gives the polar regions the phenomenon known as the midnight sun.

During these days, Bodø is bathed in sunshine for 24 hours, and residents and visitors often extend their days late into the night, hiking and spending time outdoors.

It was in such an atmosphere that between June 6 and June 8 this year, hundreds of visitors graced Bodø, wearing clothing the small arctic town had never seen before. Some wore headgear made of bird feathers, others wore colourful woven dresses bearing symbols of the natural world, like fruits and flowers, and still others wore red and blue woollen coats with embroidered belts.

They had all flown down to attend the 13th annual conference of the Native American and Indigenous Studies Association, or NAISA, an international organisation of indigenous studies. Every year, the conference, which has also been held in places such as Hawaii and Waikato, New Zealand, brings together students, academics, community researchers and elders from across continents.

Strikingly, as a NAISA council member confirmed to me, in these 13 years, the conference has never had an Adivasi from India on a panel. Thus, this year marked something of a first, with three representatives from the community – myself, a Kurukh Adivasi, Ruby Hembrom, a Santal Adivasi who founded the Adivasi platform adivaani, and Rahi Soren, also a Santal Adivasi and a professor of oceanography at Jadavpur University.

With over 800 participants, the three days were packed, with at least 15 panels conducted in any given time slot. They dealt with a range of topics, including the distinct struggles of indigenous peoples in Turkey, Costa Rica and Russia, food sovereignty in Sweden and global solidarity for Palestine.

Hembrom, Soren and I held a panel discussion on the first day, titled Adivasi Identity and Contestations: Media, Archives and Publishing. We aimed to discuss the work we did in our respective fields, and shed some light on the complexities surrounding identity, culture, representation and resurgence for Adivasis.

Hembrom spoke about how she set up adivaani, or “first voices”, the first Adivasi initiative of publishing and archiving in English in India. She recounted her struggles as an Adivasi publisher in the Indian publishing industry and explained how storytelling and literature can enable Adivasis to exercise their voice and agency.

Then, Soren gave a presentation about her archiving initiative, which digitises “Santali periodicals” going as far back as 1890 – these essentially began as publications by missionaries who sought to document Santal culture. Soren spoke of how the archives could help reclaim and renew the Santal community’s connections to their traditional territories and cultural histories.

Finally, I made a presentation about the evolution of the Indian media. I started with the example of the film Newton, in which I found the portrayal of Adivasis patronising. I then spoke about richer and more complex narratives found in independent and Adivasi-led news media, such as Abua Bihaan and Loktantra19. I also touched on some of the stories I had reported – for instance, on women reclaiming Warli art and anti-mining protests in Gadchiroli – in which I sought to capture the complexity of Adivasi issues.

Our panel was well received – though, it was only two days after the conference that we realised that most people present were largely unfamiliar with the term Adivasi, which we had in our title. This was confirmed by the Native American journalist and historian Nick Estes who told us that internationally very little was known about indigenous communities in India and there is a need for more dialogue across borders. We realised that we should have considered including “India” in our title.

One of the panel discussions held at the conference. Photo: Nolina Minj

Through the conference, the universality of indigenous struggles across borders was striking.

For instance, one session was focused on the Sami, the indigenous people of Norway, who have been fighting for their land rights, and protesting against wind turbine farms set up on land they traditionally used to herd reindeer. Their movement bears similarities to Adivasi struggles against similar projects on their lands, such as in Niyamgiri, Odisha and Hasdeo Arand, Chhattisgarh.

Another session dealt with militarism in Hawaii, which has parallels with tribal areas in Chhattisgarh and North East India.

Yet another session addressed the racist perception often propagated in Canada that indigenous communities inherently have an alcohol problem, and that therefore their children are more prone to fetal alcohol syndrome, an assertion made without any data to support it. This reminded me of the racist stigma against and criminalisation of Adivasis who brew traditional liquor like handiya and mahua.

The first day also saw a panel on climate change and Oceania – the term refers to the region of Australia, New Zealand, Melanesia, Micronesia and Polynesia considered “a liquid continent”. Panellists, who were from the small island nations in the region, noted that their countries were responsible for minimal pollution emissions and yet, were the most vulnerable to climate change.

It served as a reminder that communities are all interconnected – and that immediate threats one faces will eventually reach other parts of the world also.

Read Nolina Minj’s reports here.