A new book examines how Adivasi groups have negotiated the Indian socio-political-economic space

Adivasi presence is ubiquitous in Indian socio-political life. The presence owes to Adivasis’ own urge and verve to continue with their exclusive cultural traditions. Unlike the politically much hyped Dalit question, Adivasis, no less oppressed and steeped in miseries, receive little social science attention. Adivasis of central India – Bhils, Gonds, Santhals, Mundas, Uraons and other major Adivasis, comprising over 80% of the Adivasi population of India – living there for centuries are among the oldest groups with their age-old distinct culture.

A dominant scholarship since the time of independence, led by GS Ghurye, assumes Adivasi culture as a proto-Hindu and transitory stage of human development, impulsively drifting to advanced Hindu culture. Describing Adivasi culture as evanescent, scholars argue that while interacting with the Hindu culture some of its relics linger at times but ultimately blend into the Hindu culture to become extinct. The theory is reiterated by scholars of the post-independence era from time to time. Another scholarship dismisses it saying that Adivasi cultures co-existed with monarchies and empires of the plains continually, especially in hilly and sylvan terrains, “largely on their own will.” Today, various Adivasi societies maintain their cultural traditions and identity consciously. Indian nation often fails to appreciate this choice, which makes a noted sociologist read an “erroneous conceptualisation” of Adivasis and inappropriate development policies for them.

There is a need to understand Adivasi aspirations, wading through history and engaging in dialogue with the defying forces on the way. Sprawling central India presents an apt case for this for its being on the crossroads of civilisations in pre-colonial India and under British rule, a buffer to major commercial zones, besides rich source of natural resources. It is necessary to approach the subject away from the commonplace treatise of lesser people, Adivasis, subjected to multiple excesses and left sullen, and occasionally benevolent outside agencies coming to their rescue. The attempt should be to read Adivasis’ innate awareness of the Adivasi self and initiative to defend it and continue with its cultural ensemble.

The word “Adivasi”, literally meaning original inhabitants, is the Indian counterpart of the Western concept of “indigenous people.” The latter came in use to refer to certain local people repressed by modern Western colonialism. In India, the incidence of subjugation of the Adivasis set in since ancient times with the Aryan invasion. Presently, different Adivasi groups claim indigeneity over different regions. The basis invariably is, as reticent Mundas stated to a confidant in the late 19th century, that their ancestors “snatched” fields from “the fang of the snake and the jaw of the tiger”; the message is that the Adivasis are original settlers, owning local land and natural resources continuously for centuries. Adivasis were not ancient settlers like the Mundas always. In some cases, they were occupants of the concerned regions after later migration. Even then, they cleared fresh land for settlement, occupied the region for longer years than others and recreated Adivasi culture of the original land. Migrant Santhals in Santhal Parganas and “tea tribe” Adivasis in Assam are examples in this respect.

When UN coordinated local movements for indigeneity and hosted, since the 1970s, the concretisation of the concept, Adivasis of India responded instinctively. The UN initiative led to recognition of indigenous people by many nation-states. India abstains from acknowledging Adivasis’ indigenous status, contending that Adivasis, being part of the Hindu society for ages, lack distinctive features to merit that. Nonetheless, the nomenclature Adivasi is in full currency, even in advanced scholarship outside, for instance, in Modern Asian Studies. Adivasis themselves cherish and celebrate Adivasihood with zest, best evident in the revel of the Sarhul festival in April every year.

Adivasihood has been resilient in history. Under British rule, as it was unprecedentedly eroded by Adivasis’ rampant deprivation, the Adivasi mind reasoned Adivasi indigeneity. It sought specially restoration of Adivasis’ unique agrarian rights called Khuntkatti, the bedrock of Adivasi being. Adivasi arguments, ingrained in violent protests but unexpressed for lack of channels of communication, were overt in the late 19th century Sardar Larai in Chhotanagpur and the Kherwar movement in Santhal Parganas. Early elementary educated Adivasi actors were cogent to state before the British authorities: “Our forefathers came into this country and cleared the jungle. Now the [migrant] Hindus rob us of our fields.” Khuntkatti ownership being pivotal, Sardar Larai leaders sanctified it as Adivasis’ “Gaya, Ganga, Kasi and Prayag.”

The term “Adivasi” quintessentially depicts cultural face-lifting and assertion of Adivasihood. A coinage by the first-generation Adivasi intelligentsia under the early 20th-century nationalistic democratic milieu, it came against the double whammy of cultural disgrace by Indian and Western racism. Since ancient times, the resisting and non-conforming Adivasis were denigrated as dasyus, daityas, rakshasas, nisadas and so on, that is, beastly sub-humans. The image was coopted by colonial Western racism through Orientalist writings. In the closing years of British rule, the colonialists called the Adivasis “primitive tribes”, connoting beastly savages and the wilds. Nationalist India devised the corresponding terms adimjati or vanavasi. Against collective derogation, the word Adivasi symbolised Adivasis’ self-respect.

Colonialists and nationalists devised agendas to cure the “primitive” Adivasi. Colonialists wanted protection by segregation, leaving the Adivasis alone to develop in their own accord and pace. Diametrically opposite, nationalists were for the assimilation of Adivasis with the neighbouring advanced Hindu culture for a salutary effect. Adivasi intelligentsia rejected both. Leadership sought to mobilise community cultural resources to protect Adivasihood and explore a development path. Adivasi cultural elements were recalled and renovated, and cultural symbols were refurbished. Carrying a bow and arrow, Adivasis’ traditional weapon, for instance, was brought into public use as an insignia of Adivasihood. Adivasi leadership saw Adivasi cultural features in harmony with modern developmental concepts. Ace leader Jaipal Singh Munda was intrepid to declare at the Constituent Assembly that he was proud to be a “jungly” Adivasi, and “we [Adivasis] will teach India democracy.”

As Adivasis pursued Adivasihood, the bent of the nationalist mind was highly paternalistic and stiff. Adivasi self-consciousness was seen as the underhand working of external forces in the naive Adivasi mind to wreck the national unity. When Adivasi ideas were put forward by Jaipal Singh Munda, the nationalists frowned upon his statement. Adivasihood was abhorred as a stigma to the nation, warranting its forthright erasure. On independence, the idea was experimented with in the field of Adivasi education. Adivasi children were brought to Ashram schools and sanskar kendras (Hindu cultural training centres), away from their cultural habitat.

Meanwhile, while shouted down superciliously, the minority Adivasi ideas were indomitable. Adivasi leaders were steadfast in restating the ideas. Nationalist clout was too powerful to allow the relevance of the Adivasi ideas. Adivasi remained a recluse “primitive” to the nation, as the Lokur Committee (1965) perceived. The presence of Adivasi views was, however, undeniable. Rarely, of course, it was even subscribed to by a few statesmen-like nationalists. Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru, since 1952, recognised the appropriateness of Adivasi cultural “genius” for human development and, on this basis, suggested his Panchsheel (five principles) of Adivasi development. Later, in 1960, Vice President S Radhakrishnan denounced the “big brother” attitude of the nationalists and suggested “enabling them [Adivasis] to grow in their own tradition and according to their genius.” Instances like these indicate discernible cultural continuity of Adivasihood in history. Besides appearing in Adivasi revolts and movements, facets of it are reflected in folklore and folktales, the relationship with the forest, language and literature, domestic arts and religious belief. To collate the vibrancy of the Adivasi psyche, effort demands looking into unconventional historical sources, including rare writings and statements of Adivasi leaders and District Record Rooms repositories, and assiduous observation of the Adivasi field, besides re-reading the metro archives.

Excerpted with permission from Threads of Indigeneity in Central India: Essays on Adivasi History and Politics, edited by Anjana Singh and Joseph Bara, Springer.