forced development

In Chhattisgarh, mining interests and tribal rights on a collision course

As the government moves to fast track ore extraction, adivasis are the biggest losers.

A range of forest-covered hills coil around the southern part of Antagarh district in central Chhattisgarh, dividing the districts of Kanker and Narayanpur. These hills form the Rowghat range, believed to have the second highest deposits of iron ore in the country, in the southern district of Dantewada.

For close to three decades now, the government has expressed interest in mining these iron ore deposits. But it was only in 2014 that they began construction of support infrastructure, such as railway tracks to carry the mined ore, and started the process of land acquisition for housing, schools and hospitals for the prospective mine workers.

This requires large-scale deforestation. In its completed state, the Rowghat mines and related infrastructure will destroy approximately 2,030 hectares of forestland across Kanker and Narayanpur districts.

In order to protect the livelihoods of forest dwellers in these regions, the Scheduled Tribes and Other Traditional Forest Dwellers (Recognition of Forest Rights) Act, more commonly known as the Forest Rights Act, was passed in 2006. The Act recognises that individuals have rights over the land that they have been occupying, and that their tribal communities have rights over the use and management of those forests and the resources therein.

In the eleven years that the Act has been in existence, the Chhattisgarh government had done little to implement it. Over the past three years, non-profit organisations like the Kanker-based Disha and Raipur-based Janabhivyakti took on the onus of helping villagers claim their rights under the Act.

After three years of work, Disha managed to file Community Forest Rights documents for 20 of the 104 villages in Antagarh district. According to Anubhav Shori, who has filed more than half of these applications, it takes about four months to complete the documentation for one village.

“If rights are not claimed by the people or granted by the state in the first place, then on what basis can they be taken away?” asked Abhinav Gupta, who works on cases related to FRA as part of the legal aid group JagLAG. This is the core of the argument: If the state has not granted forest rights to the tribals in the first place, it cannot take those rights away for any purpose, including mining.

Therefore, if parts of Rowghat are to be opened up for mining by the Bhilai Steel Plant, India’s main producer of steel, the relevant FRA documentation needs to be processed. “So, a government that slept over the implementation of the law until now is suddenly in a hurry to file CFR claims in these villages,” Gupta said.

Undercutting tribals

Hurry is in fact the operative word. In villages such as Rohindargra, Chhote Jaitpuri, Dangra, Bhaisangaon and Gondbinpal in the Rowghat region, through which the rail line is planned to pass, felling of trees has already begun in clear violation of the FRA. According to the Act, no tribal can be evicted from forestland unless the recognition of forest rights is complete in that region. As it stands, however, residents of these villages will now be evicted without discussions on rehabilitation or resettlement. They have been given monetary compensation of Rs 30,000 per acre, but the villagers point out that their land is worth at least three times more.

Elsewhere, in December 2015, Disha received a letter from Indira Devhari, Sub-Divisional Magistrate of Antagarh, stating that all CFR claims for the past three years have been nullified due to wrong documentation. Devhari refused to elaborate, beyond stating that her letter clarified her stand.

With the Disha documentation effectively torpedoed, the Chhattisgarh government has taken it upon itself to file CFR documents for the villages in Kanker, Narayanpur and Sarguja, the three districts with many proposed mining projects.

Claiming CFR is a matter of demarcating the boundaries of a forest village, and officially proclaiming that the minor forest produce within those areas will be managed by the village itself.

Since tribal culture is largely oral, the oldest members of the village are contacted and asked to narrate their memories about the antecedents of the village, and where their ancestors came from. For instance, elders in Totin Dangra, a village in the heart of Rowghat, spoke of their ancestors having prayed at a hill near Sarangipal. This memory established that Totin Dangra shared boundaries with Sarangipal. This is then rigorously verified by getting accounts from the elders of both villages. To claim individual land titles, tribals have to prove they have been cultivating the land even before December 13, 2005. The final decision lies with the Gram Sabha.

Though this method seems fairly random, it is the only credible way to demarcate borders between villages in dense forests. FRA acknowledges that.

Losing out land

However, the villagers say that if the government does this exercise on its own, they might stand to lose a lot. For instance, according to the CFR documents filed by Disha, Totin Dangra has about 6,000 acres of land, within boundaries that have been traced using a GPS device. However, says Disha founding-member Keshav Shori, the government has proposed to file CFR under a different section of the FRA. “This would mean that the village will have little more than 700 acres,” he said.

Here lies the crux. The reason CFR claims filed by NGOs have been rejected, says Anubhav Shori, is to enable the government to file its own forms, and thus significantly reduce the village boundaries. The demarcation of boundaries is important, because what lies outside is deemed forest land, which will remain under the jurisdiction of the forest department.

“As long as the FRA was not fully implemented, they did not realise the strength of it,” says Keshav Sori. “Now that they badly need the resources, and we are doing all we can to further the implementation of FRA, they are finding ways to restrict it.”

In July 2015, Washington-based think tank Rights and Resources Initiative released a study that found forest rights (both individual and community) have been granted in just 1.2% of the total area that should be recorded and recognised. The Tribal Affairs Ministry’s 2015 status report meanwhile says the total area reported to be recognised under CFR is only 73,000 hectares, which is less than one-five hundredth of the CFR potential in the country.

As much as 8.2% of the Indian population is tribal, the largest chunk of such people in the world. “Apart from the PESA Act, it is only FRA that helps protect their rights,” said Gupta.

“And, since the government could not effectively dilute the Land Acquisition Act, they are using a backdoor strategy by restricting FRA,” said Kehsav Shori of Disha. “Essentially, FRA is one of the greatest tools that can curb indiscriminate mining and deforestation, and they need to finish it off to ensure a smoother access to the minerals.”

Stage set for unrest

Totin Dangra is a small village that snuggles below the Rowghat range. On the other side of the hill is Abhuj Marh, the dense forests that are the bastion of the banned armed group, Communist Party of India (Maoist). Employees of Disha took several trips to the villages, trekking several kilometres inside the jungles, to convince tribals that CFR claims were in their favour. “Tribals are wary of all official documents,” said Anubhav Shori. “It took a lot of time to gain their trust.”

Now that the government proposes to venture into the villages to file the claim documents, local tribals anticipate resistance. “We trust nothing that the government does,” said a villager, under the condition of anonymity.

About 25 kilometres from Totin Dangra, on State Highway 9, is Kalgaon. In early October 2015, a Gram Sabha convened here to decide on several aspects of village life. Many of the villagers subsequently testified that the Sub-Divisional Magistrate had come there to convince them that they should make way for a proposed township for the employees of the Bhilai Steel Plant. When the villagers opposed it, the Border Security Force was called in and their signatures were forcefully taken, they said. The SDM then spoke to local media and said that she had done nothing unlawful. Patrika, a local newspaper, reported her as saying the BSF had been called in only to keep the situation from turning violent.

The villagers have since lodged a complaint with the Collector of Kanker against the SDM for faking a Gram Sabha. The SDM was not in her office in mid-December when attempted to contact her, and she did not respond to phone calls thereafter.

“If Totin Dangra doesn’t sign the CFR documents or hold a gram Sabha to pass them, then they will merely fake it like they faked ours,” said Lachcha Ram, 41, a resident of Kalgaon.

This is the second part of a two-part series on the conflict between adivasis and the mining sector in Chhattisgarh. The first part can be read here.

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Swara Bhasker: Sharp objects has to be on the radar of every woman who is tired of being “nice”

The actress weighs in on what she loves about the show.

This article has been written by award-winning actor Swara Bhasker.

All women growing up in India, South Asia, or anywhere in the world frankly; will remember in some form or the other that gentle girlhood admonishing, “Nice girls don’t do that.” I kept recalling that gently reasoned reproach as I watched Sharp Objects (you can catch it on Hotstar Premium). Adapted from the author of Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn’s debut novel Sharp Objects has been directed by Jean-Marc Vallée, who has my heart since he gave us Big Little Lies. It stars the multiple-Oscar nominee Amy Adams, who delivers a searing performance as Camille Preaker; and Patricia Clarkson, who is magnetic as the dominating and dark Adora Crellin. As an actress myself, it felt great to watch a show driven by its female performers.

The series is woven around a troubled, alcohol-dependent, self-harming, female journalist Camille (single and in her thirties incidentally) who returns to the small town of her birth and childhood, Wind Gap, Missouri, to report on two similarly gruesome murders of teenage girls. While the series is a murder mystery, it equally delves into the psychology, not just of the principal characters, but also of the town, and thus a culture as a whole.

There is a lot that impresses in Sharp Objects — the manner in which the storytelling gently unwraps a plot that is dark, disturbing and shocking, the stellar and crafty control that Jean-Marc Vallée exercises on his narrative, the cinematography that is fluid and still manages to suggest that something sinister lurks within Wind Gap, the editing which keeps this narrative languid yet sharp and consistently evokes a haunting sensation.

Sharp Objects is also liberating (apart from its positive performance on Bechdel parameters) as content — for female actors and for audiences in giving us female centric and female driven shows that do not bear the burden of providing either role-models or even uplifting messages. 

Instead, it presents a world where women are dangerous and dysfunctional but very real — a world where women are neither pure victims, nor pure aggressors. A world where they occupy the grey areas, complex and contradictory as agents in a power play, in which they control some reigns too.

But to me personally, and perhaps to many young women viewers across the world, what makes Sharp Objects particularly impactful, perhaps almost poignant, is the manner in which it unravels the whole idea, the culture, the entire psychology of that childhood admonishment “Nice girls don’t do that.” Sharp Objects explores the sinister and dark possibilities of what the corollary of that thinking could be.

“Nice girls don’t do that.”

“Who does?”

“Bad girls.”

“So I’m a bad girl.”

“You shouldn’t be a bad girl.”

“Why not?”

“Bad girls get in trouble.”

“What trouble? What happens to bad girls?”

“Bad things.”

“What bad things?”

“Very bad things.”

“How bad?”


“Like what?”


A point the show makes early on is that both the victims of the introductory brutal murders were not your typically nice girly-girls. Camille, the traumatised protagonist carrying a burden from her past was herself not a nice girl. Amma, her deceptive half-sister manipulates the nice girl act to defy her controlling mother. But perhaps the most incisive critique on the whole ‘Be a nice girl’ culture, in fact the whole ‘nice’ culture — nice folks, nice manners, nice homes, nice towns — comes in the form of Adora’s character and the manner in which beneath the whole veneer of nice, a whole town is complicit in damning secrets and not-so-nice acts. At one point early on in the show, Adora tells her firstborn Camille, with whom she has a strained relationship (to put it mildly), “I just want things to be nice with us but maybe I don’t know how..” Interestingly it is this very notion of ‘nice’ that becomes the most oppressive and deceptive experience of young Camille, and later Amma’s growing years.

This ‘Culture of Nice’ is in fact the pervasive ‘Culture of Silence’ that women all over the world, particularly in India, are all too familiar with. 

It takes different forms, but always towards the same goal — to silence the not-so-nice details of what the experiences; sometimes intimate experiences of women might be. This Culture of Silence is propagated from the child’s earliest experience of being parented by society in general. Amongst the values that girls receive in our early years — apart from those of being obedient, dutiful, respectful, homely — we also receive the twin headed Chimera in the form of shame and guilt.

“Have some shame!”

“Oh for shame!”




“Do not bring shame upon…”

Different phrases in different languages, but always with the same implication. Shameful things happen to girls who are not nice and that brings ‘shame’ on the family or everyone associated with the girl. And nice folks do not talk about these things. Nice folks go on as if nothing has happened.

It is this culture of silence that women across the world today, are calling out in many different ways. Whether it is the #MeToo movement or a show like Sharp Objects; or on a lighter and happier note, even a film like Veere Di Wedding punctures this culture of silence, quite simply by refusing to be silenced and saying the not-nice things, or depicting the so called ‘unspeakable’ things that could happen to girls. By talking about the unspeakable, you rob it of the power to shame you; you disallow the ‘Culture of Nice’ to erase your experience. You stand up for yourself and you build your own identity.

And this to me is the most liberating aspect of being an actor, and even just a girl at a time when shows like Sharp Objects and Big Little Lies (another great show on Hotstar Premium), and films like Veere Di Wedding and Anaarkali Of Aarah are being made.

The next time I hear someone say, “Nice girls don’t do that!”, I know what I’m going to say — I don’t give a shit about nice. I’m just a girl! And that’s okay!

Swara is a an award winning actor of the Hindi film industry. Her last few films, including Veere Di Wedding, Anaarkali of Aaraah and Nil Battey Sannata have earned her both critical and commercial success. Swara is an occasional writer of articles and opinion pieces. The occasions are frequent :).

Watch the trailer of Sharp Objects here:


This article was published by the Scroll marketing team with Swara Bhasker on behalf of Hotstar Premium and not by the Scroll editorial team.