• PAGE ONE
• INDEX
• HOME

Outside the jungle book

Radhakrishna Rao

Visitors to Dehradun, in Uttar Pradesh, will be struck by the presence of groups of men in colourful attire, flowing beards and dexterously patterned caps moving about with a philosophic indifference to the hustle and bustle of the world around the m.

They are the Van Gujjars, a pastoral nomadic community living deep in the forests of the magnificent Shivalik hills. For centuries, this robust, fiercely independent community has been practising `transhumance' -- moving with its buffalo herds to the upp er regions of the Himalayas in search of pastures in summer and returning to the forests and plains at the onset of winter.

Living in the lap of nature and possessing a thorough knowledge of wild flora and fauna, the Van Gujjars consider themselves to be children of the forest. ``The life and world of the Van Gujjar is a world of forests and mountain in the tangible sense -- a world in which they live, a specific texture of their being,'' says Swedish anthropologist Pernille Gooch, who is one among several western scholars who have studied the Van Gujjars of northwestern India from close quarters.

An intense emotional attachment to the buffalo herd is another conspicuous feature of the Van Gujjars. The buffaloes are considered members of an extended family and the community has invested its animals with a distinct personality. Says Avadesh Kaushal , chairperson of the Dehradun-based non-governmental organisation, Rural Litigation and Entitlement Kendra (RLEK), which runs a series of welfare schemes for the community: ``Van Gujjars have managed to retain the high genetic quality of the buffaloes wi thout inbreeding. Superb cattle breeders that they are, Van Gujjars play a crucial role in the supply of milk and dairy products to the towns and pilgrim centres in the upper reaches of the Himalayas in the lean summer months.''

Physically, the Van Gujjars resemble many of the hill tribes of Pakistan and Afghanistan with gaunt faces, deep-set eyes and a hooked nose. Unlike their counterparts from across the border, the Van Gujjars of northwest India are strict vegetarians. In fa ct, they are one of the few tribal groups to have survived against heavy odds that threaten their very existence as a distinct cultural group.

Though Muslims by faith, they have their own clans, akin to the gotras among caste Hindus. Originally belonging to one of the many Rajput clans of western India, they speak an earthy and colourful language, featuring words and expressions from Punjabi, D ogri and Urdu. The Gujjar women do not wear a veil and are allowed to divorce and remarry. Interestingly, Van Gujjars live in a semi-circular hut called dera built deep in the forest and made of bamboo, mud and other forest products.

This marginalised, peace-loving community, which has been enjoying customary rights over forest resources for hundreds of years, is now under constant threat from forest authorities who prohibit human and livestock populations inside a reserved park. Aft er a notification was issued in 1983 for the creation of the Rajaji National Park (RNP), spread over 825 sq km in the hilly regions of western Uttar Pradesh, the Van Gujjars were asked to shift to a resettlement colony at Pathari, a marshy stretch near t he pilgrim town of Hardwar. But the Van Gujjars have been resisting this move all along.

Today, RNP, an important abode of the Asiatic elephant, has become a hotbed of conflict between Van Gujjars and the park authorities who blame the community for poaching and timber smuggling. Says Avadesh of RLEK, ``An indigenous forest-dwelling communit y could hardly get any justice from an insensitive forest bureaucracy steeped in colonial tradition. The presence of Van Gujjars in the park is a hindrance to a section of forest officials which connives with the wildlife and the timber mafia to indulge in undesirable activities.''

The Van Gujjars regard forests as an asset -- a living, dynamic entity which needs to be protected and taken care of. As one Van Gujjar chieftain put it, ``Since forests are a source of livelihood for our community we have a vested interest in protecting the forests and its resources.''

It is not for the first time that the Van Gujjars have been pressurised to move out of their forest home. In the autumn of 1992, when the RNP authorities tried to block their into the park area, they decided to fight back and pitched tents outside the pa rk area. Avadesh used the media and his contacts in the administrative set-up to drum up support for the Van Gujjars. The park authorities were forced to relent and allow the tribe into the forest.

However, Avadesh and the RLEK realised that this was only a temporary victory; they considered the empowerment of the community through literacy and education as vital to its continuance as a distinct entity. A unique literacy campaign was launched where voluntary educators lived and moved with the migratory forest-dwellers to help sustain the education programme. About 21,000 Van Gujjar adults achieved literacy under the programme which fetched RLEK the UNESCO Adult Literacy Award for 1998. A literacy programme for Van Gujjar children is in full swing.

RLEK has also formulated a community forest management (CFM) programme that seeks to minimise the role of bureaucracy and, instead, involve the Van Gujjars in forest management.

According to Avadesh, under the CFM, the Van Gujjars should be given control over the reserve forest for five years initially. Depending upon the outcome, the strategy could be extended to other parks and reserve forests in the country.

The Van Gujjars welcome CFM as a means of addressing their insecurity and regaining access to the forest land. The CFM has attracted the attention of the outside world -- two Van Gujjars have been invited to Brazil to participate in the International Con ference on Indigenous People for an exchange of views. But will their voices be heard by their own countrymen?

Pic.: A Van Gujjar woman learns to use a wireless set.