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| A Review of the Social Basis for Sustainable Development in Arunachal Pradesh Elizabeth M. Taylor, Ph.D. [Please note: this intriguing and thorough study of Arunachal Pradesh is also available for downloading as a PDF document from our Reference and Resources page.] I. Introduction In the far northeast of India, in an area extraordinarily rich in its cultural and ecological heritage, Arunachal Pradesh is in a uniquely fortunate position from which to create and implement a new vision for sustainable development. Arunachal Pradesh comprises the mountains that ring eastern Assam, a dramatic terrain thrown up by the sharp twisting of the Himalayan ranges as they turn suddenly from a southeasterly to a southerly direction and drop precipitously to the tropical forests of southern China and northern Burma. The fierce geological torsion of this region has created a complex range of microniches--an intensely 'rumpled', precipitous and varied terrain {Fleming 1995} remarkable for its diversity of habitat and species. There is increasing recognition globally that this region should qualify as a world treasure because of its unusual ecology and because of this, Future Generations has initiated programs there as part of its larger Great Rivers Ecosystems of Asia Trust (GREAT). However, the human dimension of this historical moment in Arunachal Pradesh warrants equal attention and this cultural aspect, rather than the biological importance is the object of this report. Arunachal Pradesh is unparalleled in the world, at present, for the concentration, isolation and diversity of tribal cultures it contains. With a population of under one million, it is 70% tribal, containing 21 major tribal groups with over 100 ethnically distinct subgroupings and over 50 distinct languages and dialects. Nowhere else can one find such a patchwork of discrete types of preindustrial political economies in such a small area--including semi-nomadic swidden horticulture, terraced wet agriculture, high montane pastoralism and traditional trade and barter. These different forms of ecological adaptation traditionally had various forms of political organization--ranging from aristocratic ranking or stratified chiefdoms to egalitarian clan or lineage-based societies and highly corporate villages run by democratic debate in traditional councils. Culturally, this is a time of both crisis and hope for Arunachal Pradesh. The crisis arises as this predominately tribal and long isolated area rapidly enters national and international economies. It is a moral crisis as people struggle to create new visions of the good life as they respond to the sudden inflow of outside capital, migrants, consumer goods, market logic and new notions of status. It is a spiritual crisis as the past becomes problematic and valuable in new ways as people struggle to redefine cultural identity and heritage under bewilderingly new circumstances. Rather than erase ethnic differences, rapid historical change can intensify the +symbolic power of the cultural past, as social dislocation, new inequalities, lost securities create a hunger for 'roots'. This is a time for hope because Arunachal Pradesh enters this pivotal historical moment with unique advantages. Nowhere else in the Himalayas can one find so much pristine forest and intact mega-biodiversity.1 Species which are endangered or threatened elsewhere are widely distributed across the state--including 25 endangered mammals. Arunachal Pradesh is the richest state in India for pheasants (with 10 distinct species), the great cats (with tiger, leopard, as well as clouded and snow leopards), as well as all three of the goat antelopes (serow, goral and takin). Its precipitous valleys create habitats for over 500 species of orchids and 52 species of rhododendrun.2 About one third of the 105 species of Indian bamboo are found in Arunachal Pradesh {Haridasan et al 1987}. In addition to its magnificent forests, the area has rich natural resources including vast potential hydroelectric power, coal and other minerals, many forms of medicinal plants. Arunachal Pradesh has a very low population density of 10 persons per sq. km., and the highest per capita income in the northeastern region {Rastogi and Pant n.d}. Political conditions also make this a time of hope for Arunachal Pradesh. Despite increasing change, traditional cultures are still vital, strongly felt and meaningful. More than anything else, these tribal lifeways can be credited with preserving this unusual environment. Complexly adapted to these ecosystems in a variety of ways, these cultures fostered material practices and social institutions which have had minimal ecological effect. For millenia,these cultures maintained low population growth and density, the sustainable use of resources (i.e., timber, soil, meat-providing fauna and their predators, medicinal plants, etc.), healthy soil conditions along the headwaters of the Brahmaputra River, the great diversity of these often fragile habitats, as well as enough stability in territorial holdings to prevent the terrible dislocations caused elsewhere in northeast India by migration and other demographic displacements. On my recent trip to Arunachal Pradesh, my dominant reaction was the feeling that this is a time and place where it is possible to chart a new path in economic development--avoiding the sociocultural devastation that have too often accompanied tribal people into the 'modernizing' process. Most tribal peoples have entered the world economy from a position of weakness, too often being articulated into larger societies through direct oppression--whether economic exploitation or military conquest. However, the 'Inner Line'3 has largely protected Arunachal Pradesh from such inequalities. This legacy of relative freedom fosters self-confidence, ethnic pride and hope for the future. Political isolation has not only protected the environment and traditional cultures, it has also allowed an indigenous tribal elite to emerge with the education and modernizing drive to transform Arunachal Pradesh into a respected player on the national and international stage. Contrary to stereotypes of the northeast as a place of endemic ethnic conflict and militant subnationalist separatism, Arunachal Pradesh, while extraordinarily complex ethnically, has a widely popular and stable government that has demonstrated a progressive commitment to rapid and democratic social development in the context of a pluralist, proudly multicultural, secular Indian nationalism. |
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| II. The sociocultural dimension of economic sustainability
Economic sustainability is never simply a material phenomenon. From a material perspective, economic sustainability can be defined as the ability of an economy to calibrate human-caused resource use and pollution to non-human ecological health and limits. As can be seen in Figure 1, these material patterns, however, are deeply tied in with a broad range of sociocultural processes {Taylor n.d.}. From a social perspective, economic sustainability becomes primarily an organizational question. What are the social institutions that define rights to resources? How is knowledge about the environment (its degradation or health) gathered, disseminated, and used in making political economic decisions? From a cultural perspective, economic sustainability is fundamentally tied in with notions of time and definitions of collective identity. What are the sociocultural processes that cause people to identify their own identity and wellbeing with a particular bioregion? What is the time frame within which people conceptualize their decisions? How do cosmologies define the right relationship between human and non-human? What are the institutions of civil society that define collective goals and the common good? What kinds of social solidarity and political passions are cultivated in people that might affect how they act in relation to their environment? How does all of this affect a society's ability to plan for a sustainable future? Figure 1: Sociocultural dimensions of economic sustainability
Planning for sustainable developmentIs it possible in the present political situation in Arunachal Pradesh to plan for sustainable development? Who might be the major players in such a process? What interests and solidarities might join them together in common goals? What are potential areas of conflict and misunderstanding? What are the best forums within which effective and democratic planning can take place? What has already been done? This paper provides some historical context for answering these questions. First, I look at traditional tribal cultures to consider how this unusual legacy might be affecting the present. Second, I examine the unusual political history of the state. Third, I summarize what I saw on my recent trip to Itanagar--describing the present political ethos and how it seems to shape the goals and identities of institutions and individuals who might be major players in planning for sustainable development. |
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| III. Cultural history
Traditional tribal cultures provide a rich repertoire of images that give value and meaning to local landscapes and which bind human identities and wellbeing to non-human rhythms and harmonies. In the following I survey the interplay of religion and ecology, traditional environmental adaptations and knowledge, and, how social institutions shape resource use.4 Throughout Arunachal Pradesh one finds the following recurrent patterns in how traditional social institutions regulate access to resources: communalistic notions of landowndership; tribal councils and other public forums that resolve disputes over resource use; religious taboos and beliefs that serve to regulate resource use and to constitute human identity with non-human imagery; a strongly entrepreneurial spirit; materialistic definitions of identity and personal worth. All of these sociocultural complexes are beginning to change, but they are still vital and might provide important resources for planning for sustainability as Arunachal Pradesh joins the global industrial economy. The interplay of religion and environment: In all their diversity, the traditional religions have the effect of binding identity (individual and group) into the non-human landscape, creating strong attachment between a particular group and a particular ecosystem. The following quote from Verrier Elwin, who spent much time in the area, can easily be romanticized as a description of people with a simple, moral attachment to the land. It is better rather to understand this attachment to the land as arising from a particular linking of moral and pragmatic values that are continually instilled by a particular socioeconomic system.
Unlike other tribal areas of the northeast which have been heavily Christianized, Arunachal Pradesh seems still to be largely animist.5 Groups near Tibet are the most influenced by Tibetan Buddhism, those near Burma by Hinayana Buddhism, and those near the Assamese lowlands by Hinduism. However, all groups show influences of the predominate animist religious complex. Animist cosmologies understand sacredness to reside in natural processes and phenomenon. Not only do particular parts of nature [plants, animals, celestial bodies, etc.] carry divine presence, but there is a notion that spiritual energy can be exchanged between humans and these spiritually charged natural phenomena. Ritual sacrifice becomes central, because it creates the proper reciprocity between the spiritual and the human -- with humans asking for material, moral and social wellbeing in exchange for their gifts to the spiritual realm. Throughout this area there are elaborated annual ritual cycles which are enjoined to maintain the proper spiritual metabolism between human society and non-human ecology. It has been well demonstrated in similar horticultural societies that religion is highly adaptive ecologically -- with the ritual cycle functioning like a feedback mechanism to mutually adjust human production, demography and ecological shifts {Rapaport 1968}. In such a cosmology, landscape takes on overwhelming psychological and cultural importance. Specific features of the landscape become profoundly charged with ultimate cosmological meanings as well as basic social identity and collective memory. Whether or not people would be able to explicitly articulate abstract notions of ecological homeostasis, the idea of self-correcting and holistic exchanges of energy to balance natural and human orders is central to this cultural logic. {Sen 1992} {Pamphilion 1993} Throughout Arunachal Pradesh, there are elaborate ritual cycles which initiate and regulate economic activities. Common to many of these seasonal festivals are village wide dances and feasts. In most groups there is much focus on large consumption of meat and traditional beers. The mithun, a domesticated, high altitude, woodlands cattle, is widely used for sacrifice and is a key symbol which represents value and status for its owner. In collective rituals, Rastogi and Pant describe it as 'the symbolic representative of peace and communal harmony" {Rastogi and Pant n.d.} and it is central to the most important festivals of the Nishi, the Adi, the Apotani and many other groups. Also very important in creating sustainable use of resources are numerous religious taboos which can have a conservative effect--as when they prohibit the hunting of certain species during mating or nesting times or the cutting of the older trees or keystone species like ficus {Rastogi and Pant n.d.}. Among the Buddhist groups along the very highest Himalayan ridges, there is a different interplay between the meanings of religion and of environment. In comparison to 'animist' religions, Buddhism makes a stronger conceptual distinction between the natural and the sacred. While spiritual cycles in 'animist' rituals are embedded in celestial and seasonal rhythms and entities, Buddhism is a 'world-renouncing' religion--finding the greatest spiritual knowledge in ascetic escape from material and natural rhythms. However, Tibetan Buddhism tends in other ways to bind human fate and worth into the nonhuman. The idea of the Wheel of Life which joins all creatures into the same cycles of reincarnation makes all life interrelated and potentially equivalent in value. Tibetan Buddhist traditions transform landscape as certain places and natural formations become embued with the sacredness of holy events in the lives of spiritual teachers. Strong traditions of pilgrimage deepen these meanings in individual emotions. Diversity of ecological adaptations: Traditionally there are five main forms of ecological adaptation in Arunachal Pradesh: swidden horticulture, hunting and gathering, terraced wet agriculture, terraced dry agriculture, high montane pastoralism. Swidden horticulture: Swidden horticulture, combined with hunting, has been demonstrated to be highly adaptive in (semi)tropical forests ecologies because it allows ecological regeneration and maintains very low human population density. {Rastogi 1994} This economic practice seems to depend on a particular socio-cultural complex -- including communalistic notions of landownership, an ethic of redistribution and leveling of material possessions, a good knowledge of the environment. In Arunachal Pradesh, as elsewhere, swidden horticulture, or jhumming as it is called throughout the northeast, tends to appear with elaborated animist religious systems. The main groups which practice swidden horticulture are:6
Foraging: The only group who are primarily hunter-gatherers are the Sulung. Living in Subansiri District in very small numbers, they may be the most aboriginal inhabitants of the area. Many Sulung are described by Fuchs (1973) as living as virtual slaves to the Nishi. However, all groups do some foraging. Swidden agriculturalists, in particular, do a great deal of hunting and gathering of wild plants--especially during times of hardship such as the monsoon season {Rastogi and Pant n.d} {Maikhuri and Ramakrishnan 1992}. These plants, animals and insects are an important source of protein and calories {Gopalan et al 1978} In Arunachal Pradesh nearly 300 species of plants are foraged--including 50 kinds of green leaf vegetables, 25 types of tubers and rhizomes, 10 kinds of flowering plants, and 15 types of seeds and grains {Haridasan et al 1990}. Arunachal Pradesh is exceptionally rich in medicinal plants, especially in its easternmost extension. Extensive knowledge of the environment is a necessary part of this adaptation as foraging depends on peoples ability to anticipate and find the always changing distribution of edible species. Terraced agriculture: The groups practicing high altitude, dry terraced agriculture tend to follow a socioeconomic complex derived from their origins in the Tibetan plateau. To survive the aridity, cold and altitude of the high mountain crests these people combine (in various degrees): sedentary agriculture (primarily millet, barley and potatoes); high montane pasturing of cattle, yak and sheep; long distance trade. These are predominately Bhutia people who are largely Tibetan Buddhist.
The groups practicing terraced agriculture at lower altitudes primarily depend on wet rice cultivation but also grow barley, wheat, buckwheat, and fruits, and do considerable foraging.
Communalistic notions of land and tribal councils: In all of these groups there is a complex mix of individual and communal rights to property. Shifting horticulturalists such as the Nishi, the Adi and the Miri tend to have the least corporate notions of political structure. Being semi-nomadic and needing to keep reapportioning access to land as they move their holdings, they have flexible decision making networks. Ultimately all land is understood to be communally held by clans which apportion specific plots at specific times according to informal decision-making within clans and lineages. The boundaries to these holdings are loosely defined. The Nishi are notorious among other groups for having no stable sociopolitical units larger than the lineages which traditionally live together in longhouses with as many as 60 to 70 people. Viewed as very warlike and unruly by their neighbors, there are some signs that they did have some traditional bodies for dispute resolution. Robinson in 1851 describes them as ordered by a 'sort of tacit commonsense law' and Elwin describes intermediaries called gingdungs, who arranged for ransom and could call councils called nele to which all concerned people could come for debate {Elwin 1988, 154}. The Adi on the other hand are renowned for having what Elwin describes as the 'most highly developed tribal councils' in Arunachal Pradesh {Elwin 1988, 157}. Each village had a chief and a council, called the kebang, which was held in the village hall, called a morang. These councils were large affairs which highly elaborated debate in which all villagers could participate. They controlled such decisions as when and where to clear, forest, to sow, to hunt and to fish as well as when and how to celebrate festivals and sacrifices. Shamans were traditionally very important in this decision making. In addition to the councils, a collective spirit and responsibility was fostered by residential dormitories and clubs for adolescent girls and for adolescent boys. The Miri are reputed to have no suprahousehold organization but they have been little studied. The high altitude groups, being influenced by Tibetan Buddhism, tend to have more corporate and defined notions of religious and political authority. Spiritual power is invested in Buddhist lamas, with a special institutional focus on the large Tawang Monastery in Kameng District. Being sedentary agriculturalists, land ownership is more defined and is transmitted through lineages. Some groups have a marked social stratification between lineages and clans. Typical of these village councils is a method of dispute resolution in which the 'convicted' party is responsible to host costly celebrations which help reestablish social harmony. The village council of the Monpa was called the lengui and had wide powers. The Aka and the Miji also had councils but the largest two villages were reputed to have ranis (or 'queens). The Sherdukpen were very dominated by aristocratic families, but had a village council called the jang. The political organization of the lower altitude ApaTani has been the best described. Visitors have been fascinated by the remarkably intense use they have made of the resources of their one valley. Despite their lack of the plow, they have developed the capacity to raise two annual crops and are famous for their ability to use and develop even the smallest plots of land. This extremely efficient use of a small area is made possible by a very tightly organized corporate village structure. Each village has councils called buliangs which are made up of male representatives from each clan. There are 3 buliangs-- which are graded by age, with the most powerful being the one for men who are past active economic roles. These councils regulate their elaborate ritual cycle and resolve disputes. There were three types of land ownership: individual ownership of land, groves of bamboo, pines, fruit trees, and of homes and granaries; clan owndership of assembly platforms, pasturage, burial grounds and hunting; and common village ownership of pasturage and forests. Other social groups which fostered a sense of collectivism were the important collective work groups called patang. The Mishmi resemble the Nishi in having weak village structures, but do have a council called the abbala. At the other extreme are the Wancho, Nocte and Tangsa which are quite hierarchical and corporatized with powerful chiefs (often entitled to elaborately decorated chiefly houses and sumptuary clothing) and aristocratic classes. Residential dormitories for girls and for boys could traditionally be found throughout this area, but it is not clear how much this is continuing. Traditional knowledge and symbolic imagery: Traditional cultures have passed on a knowledge about the environment which is as extraordinary as the biodiversity it protects. Drawing heavily on local knowledge, Haridasan was able to isolate nearly 450 plants with medicinal properties, belonging to 100 families and comprising about 10% of the total flora inventory of Arunachal Pradesh. Foraging for medicines and food also relies on detailed knowledge of insects of many sorts which important minerals, protein and fat. {Rastogi and Pant n.d.} In one location, more than four dozen insect species were used {Borah and Borang 1994}. Magical rites to protect crops and repel pests also serve to transmit detailed knowledge about the herbs and plants used in the rites as well as to weave religious meanings about social and ecological harmony into this wealth of ecological knowledge {Kohli 1993}. The intricate articulation of ecological knowledge, material practices and religious beliefs can be seen in the husbandry of the mithun cattle. Inmany ways, the symbolic meanings of mithun as a source of personal prestige and collective harmony give them an economic value in excess of their material contribution. More than a source of calories and protein (since their use is so regulated by ritual) the value of mithun comes from their symbolic use as the most important emblem of personal prestige and as the traditional form of exchange currency. Owning or giving mithun is, in many groups, the most powerful way to gain social status. To maintain mithun in the traditional manner requires the protection of pristine forest, since mithun require cool, wet and deep forests within which they can free range (at altitudes from 500 to 3000 m) to browse on at least two dozen species of plants, shrubs and trees {Heli 1993}. Traditional architecture and construction also require and transmit a wide knowledge of flora. Many groups make houses out of a great variety of bamboo and cane (usually harvested at the new moon to prevent weevil damage {Rastogi and Pant n.d.}. The suspension bridges of Arunachal Pradesh are famous for their ingenious use of cane and bamboo {Ranjan et al 1986} and the mastery of gorges that have terrified even seasoned Himalayan travelers {Elwin 1988}. Traditional crafts and arts both engender and require a wealth of ecological knowledge. Weaving is the art for which Arunachal Pradesh is the most renowned. In most groups, skill in weaving is a crucial component of female status and identity and women carry on intricate traditions of pattern, color and loom construction. Weaving designs carry complicated meanings of social status, gender ethnicity and cosmology, and also express the personal creativity of individual women.7 Most looms were Indonesian style 'loin looms' and traditionally most colors are from a wide array of gathered plants. In addition to weaving, different tribes carry a remarkable array of specialized crafts including silverworking, blacksmithing, paper making, sericulture and caneworking. Body and hair decorations are stunningly creative and various--using bird wings, beetles, seeds, bamboo slivers, natural dyes and tatoos, etc. The aesthetic imagery of religious ceremony is replete with natural symbols--saturating individual identities with a sense of kinship with local animals, plants, rivers, moon, sun through the pleasures of dance, masks, skin markings, drama, ritual games, ceremonial trance and inebriation. {Elwin 1988} Traditional notions of status, authority and individual achievement: Tribal cultures join intensely communalistic and intensely individualistic values in a way that can seem paradoxical to Westernized cultures. We can see from the above that personal identity is deeply embedded in collective identity through communal property ownership, and the importance of group cooperation. However, individuals also are groomed to care about and compete for individual status. Especially among the more sedentary populations, personal prestige requires possession of luxury items with little pragmatic usefulness--such as the enormously valued beads and mithuns. Men and women would make great sacrifices to own as many of these largely ornamental items as possible. As Elwin has pointed out, this gives a materialistic, acquisitive and competitive quality to much in the tribal ethos {Elwin 1988}. However, this desire for personal prestige was not simply individualistic. In many ways, these often elaborate prestige systems acted to bind people more strongly into group relationships. The greatest prestige came not just from acquiring valuables, but from giving them away. Festivals, then, became times for redistribution of material wealth as people gained prestige through their generosity. Without codified government, the primary mechanism for social solidarity were the systems of material reciprocity and cooperation, as people maintained status, relationships and power by orchestrating their customary exchanges of staple goods, labor and luxury items. Despite often elaborate prestige rankings, there was usually little difference in material wealth within tribes. |
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| IV. Political history
It is an historical irony that the geographical and political factors that have brought tragedy to much of northeast India, have converged to produce unusual political stability in Arunachal Pradesh. Migration is the strongest force shaping the history of the northeast. Geology has had a paradoxical effect here. On one hand, the dramatic terrain has so separated closely related groups that language can be unintelligible from one valley to the next. On the other hand, for long-distance migration and invasion, India's northeast mountains are a point of relative geographical accessibility between the massifs to the north and the tropical jungles to the south. For millenia, migrations have criss-crossed this area--from Tibet, south China, southeast Asia, Indonesia, and the Indian plains--leaving behind perhaps the most ethnically diverse population in the world. By the late 19th century, the tea and other business had brought massive demographic and economic change to Assam. From this there resulted a pattern of uneven regional development and boom and bust economies that set the northeast as a whole on its present course. A particularly problematic result of socioeconomic dislocations have been massive migrations and demographic displacements that have generated violent ethnic hatreds and militant irredentist subnationalisms {Hazarika 1994}. The area that would later become Arunachal Pradesh, however, was isolated from such changes by British policies. In 1875, the British established the 'inner line'--a demarcation between the Assamese plains and the mountains across which nobody could pass without a permit. In 1912-13, the British Raj made agreements with tribal leaders that defined the area that became known as North East Frontier Agency [NEFA]. British rule could have slight impact on the isolated, economically self-sufficient and militarily uncontrollable tribal peoples--except perhaps by preventing in-migration into NEFA. In independent India, the administrative cadre became the Indian Frontier Administrative Service and developed impressively high standards of recruitment and training--with a strong focus on cultivating knowledge about, and sensitive appreciation of, tribal cultures {Elwin 1988} {Rustomji 1983}. During the 1950's, the NEFA administration developed a distinctive and ambitious philosophy of social development. This thinking is perhaps most fully articulated in the monograph, A philosophy for NEFA by Verrier Elwin, an anthropologist who was influential as the Advisor on Tribal Affairs for NEFA. The keystone of this philosophy is the idea that development should not be imposed from the outside, but should emerge out of the culture, priorities, self-confidence and decision-making traditions of indigenous communities. The 'philosophy of NEFA' emerged out of Gandhian notions of village-based development which emphasized the integration of traditional crafts into a modernizing economy and the integration of material and spiritual development. It also embodies the most idealistic period of social democratic thinking under Nehru which envisioned close and respectful cooperation between the Indian Centre and tribal societies which, in Nehru's words, should 'develop along the lines of their own genius'8. Economic schemes showed variety and inventiveness--including schools in traditional crafts, tribal cooperatives for new industries [such as sawmills, transport], technical support for scientific jhumming.9 In this philosophy, material development was intricately related with psychological self-confidence and self-respect. To maintain stable and beneficial development, tribal peoples needed to enter larger economies from a position of strength--with a clarity and cohesion of social solidarity and cultural identity that could enable them to make effective choices and to plan for development according to terms that made sense within their values and experience. Elsewhere in India it was very difficult to safeguard this sort of community capacity because tribal peoples were typically locked, at the local level, into unequal relationships and culturally demeaning stereotypes as 'primitive', 'backward' and inherently inferior. In NEFA, there was great hope that institutions of civil society (schools, community councils, cooperatives for traditional artists, religious practitioners and craftspeople, etc.) could be set up that would foster an indigenous, proud creativity that could withstand the homogenizing force of the encroaching mass culture. This philosophy for NEFA was prescient in that it embodies goals which are increasingly accepted in development theory as central to successful and sustainable programs: nurturing of community participation and capacity, intersectoral integration, responsiveness to differences in local context, knowledge about and sensitivity to local socio-cultural realities. It is hard to tell from the objective record how much 'the philosophy for NEFA' affected peoples' material wellbeing or how long it lasted. At the very least, it seems to continue to have significant impact as conceptual model and ethnical inspiration. In my conversations with Arunachalese in 1995, I was surprised by how often, and how positively, this philosophy was referred to by members of the educated elite (especially tribal but also non-tribal)--including high officials in the university, Forestry Department, radio and television, as well as university faculty and students and a women's society leader. It would be interesting to find out exactly how the transmission of these ideas is taking place but at least two of these people said that they had read Elwin's book while in college. After the Chinese invasions into NEFA in 1959 and 1962, the Indian government began a massive program of road and infrastructure building in NEFA to enable rapid troop deployment. In 1971, NEFA was renamed Arunachal Pradesh, 'land of the rising sun' and made a Union Territory. In 1987, it became a full fledged state with the capital in Itanagar. The administration of Arunachal Pradesh is now largely similar to other states. However, it is unusual in having no separate judiciary. The state executive branch at all levels takes on judicial functions, and tribal customary law has legal standing. In many areas, such as rights to forests and marriage regulation, this legal pluralism results in ambiguity, with many potential legal questions untested or unresolved.10 To safeguard tribal customary laws, the state legislature, in 1994, introduced the Arunachal Pradesh Protection of Customary Laws and Social Practices Bill {Pant 1995}. Structurally, the state has experienced an unusual relationship between top-down and bottom-up government that still seems to affect the political culture at present. In some ways, the state has been unusally strongly administered from the Centre--with direct control until 1987, still stringent control of entry permits and, since the 1960's, exceptionally high levels of development monies. The Centre is concerned to maintain stability and loyalty on this sensitive border. In a variety of ways, it seemed to me that Arunachalese have become accustomed to having this sort of leverage--receiving this investment in exchange for political stability. Tribal peoples do not have to pay taxes. Government monies, then, appeared to have a curiously rootless quality, in my observation. Not having contributed themselves, people seem less likely to identify with such monies or their projects. They do, however, expect such resources, having a strong sense of resentment against what is perceived as a 'colonial' attitude towards Arunachal Pradesh in the Indian Centre. In mainstream Indian culture, stereotypes about tribal peoples and the northeast as 'primitive' and 'backward' are still commonly expressed and Arunachalese (justifiably) resent this. A number of tribal Arunachalese recounted stories to me about their anger when they are mistaken for 'foreigners'when traveling in Indian cities. Despite this sort of central control, there are some ways in which Arunachal Pradesh has had exceptional autonomy. Until very recently, geographical isolation has given local tribal authorities much de facto freedom. The strong tribal traditions of local self-governance are probably still contributing to vital and dynamic grassroots political involvement in many areas. However, the political legacies would seem likely to be producing complex relationships between grassroots and regional political leadership. While Arunachal Pradesh has strong traditions of leadership at the local and the state level, the mediating political institutions between these levels and between the state and the Centre, are, in some ways, new, developing and vulnerable to abuse. Until the introduction of the Panchayati Raj11, there were no mediating political bodies between externally appointed administrative officers and the customary tribal leadership. The District Administration has the right to appoint gaon buras, or village leaders, to settle certain disputes, and Rastogi and Pant report that this position has become politicized and is eroding traditional tribal institutions {Rastogi and Pant n.d.} The Ering Commission recommended the introduction of Panchayat Raj in 1965. Panchayat Raj was legally establish in 1969. It is hard to tell from the outside how all of this affects power distribution at the local level, between different tribal or ethnic groups, between different economic interests, between the genders. Given the newness and ambiguities of institutional relationships it is probably a complicated situation which is likely to be giving increasing advantage to people who have access to power at the state level or higher. This ambiguity of jurisdiction between elected, appointed and traditional leaders is further complicated by the lack of a separate judiciary. Rights to mediate and settle dispute are given to a variety of political bodies, with overlapping authorities. Gaon Buras, or the village leaders appointed by the executive, have rights to try some cases, as do non-elected Circle Officers and Commissioners of various sorts. The result is that one case can be moved by the disputants among customary tribal councils, and officers in different executive branches and levels--with conflicting results {Pant 1995}. Again, I lack systematic data, but the political situation is likely also to be shaped by the complex cultural crosscurrents. In traditional tribal society, political influence derives in good measure from one's ability to maintain networks of material reciprocity and cooperation that flow primarily along farflung kinship lines. What is happening now is that some people are moving partially out of these customary obligations as they gain outside education and elite jobs. This can lead to complicated clashes of values--between 'modern' and 'traditional' frameworks. In 'modern' notions of exchange, professionalized responsibilities and paid labor are based on the notion of 'contract'--relationships in which one commits oneself to exchange in terms of rationalized and universalized criteria (e.g., money, merit or bureaucratic protocol). In such systems, it is considered to be corruption or nepotism to pass resources or patronage along personalistic bonds (such as kinship) or in return for past favors. However, in the traditional system all exchanges tended to flow precisely along these personalist bonds. If people try to mix these two moral codes it can lead to ambiguous and potentially abusive situations. Newly urbanized and educated young people can feel obligated to the people in their home villages and tribes to whom they carry traditional debts. If they use government monies and privileges to repay these traditionally understood obligations they are violating the universalistic and nonpersonalistic values of 'modern' society. On the other hand, traditional and non-elite people are liable to exploitation with such a confusion of moral systems. A new elite that is getting predominate control over wealth, education and government can appear to traditional tribal people to be generous patrons by manipulating the local people with spectacles of 'traditional' giving of favors and gifts. This can become a form of demogogic manipulation if local people understand it within the traditional framework within which prestige ranks do not create significant material inequality. If, in fact, crucial resources are being deflected to the elite and their children, and extracted from newly created 'poor' masses, one can end up with a polity which masks real inequality between two (newly created) economic classes, with a mystifying veil or traditional 'tribal' egalitarianism and beneficence. This can become a particular problem when important governmental services are at stake. Social services such as schools and health care become increasingly important as people lose traditional lifeways. Many tribal people do not seem to identity with governmentally provided social services--since it does not come from their own tax payments and in many ways is seen as something like a 'bribe' from the central government to prevent social unrest. If the state elite does not take a professional attitude to the provision of these services, the masses of people do not receive the 'modernizing' services they desperately need to compete against incoming markets and migrants. The large amounts of money pouring in from the Centre can unfairly advantage the most opportunistic who are willing, in this confused moral climate, to use resources for self-agrandisement by dispensing patronage. Such a situation is genuinely a confused moral climate--because large amounts of unvervalued resources are moving among people who are straddling contradictory moral philosophies in a time of massive structural change and uncertainty with confused and overlapping (judicial) systems of surveillance and grievance. |
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| V. Civil society and the capacity to plan for sustainable development
This section summarizes my impressions of the political situation of Arunachal Pradesh gleaned during my time in Delhi and Itanagar in the last three months of 1995.12 I try to understand who would be significant players (both individual and institutional) in planning for sustainable development. To understand how their interests, skills, conflicts and alliances might affect their interactions, I am particularly concerned to understand the nature of the 'civil society' in which they must operate. How does this particular form of civil society bring together (or push apart) different sorts of grassroots people, government officials and technical or scholarly experts? In this, it is crucial not to get trapped in false dichotomies between 'traditional' and 'modern' society. One of the most distinctive features of Arunachal today is the extent to which aspects of 'tribal' society are being transformed rather than being left behind as people towards ever greater integration into the world economy. Positive new features of contemporary 'tribal' identityIn fundamental ways, economic planning will be shaped by the new cultural identity that is being actively created by the tribal elite. With strong leadership from the Chief Minister, the Hon. Gegong Apang, new cultural institutions are being created to synthesize a pan-tribal identity which is a syncretic mix of disparate Arunachalese cultures. The goal is to carry on the essence of tribal ways in simplified and more portable forms that can be adapted to new and changing circumstances {Nath 1987}. This reinvention of culture affects many dimensions of life--religious, aesthetic as well as basic notions of status and self worth. Religious change: The most sacred image invoked in state ceremonies is that of Donyi-Polo (which translates into English as "Sun-Moon" and signifies the ultimate deity). This is a name which is now widely diffused in Nishi, Adi, Apotani and other tribes and is central in many rituals. The provenance of this image of Divinity is not entirely clear, although some would suggest that it has taken on such widespread importance recently as people have been uprooted from deities which were more grounded in local natural phenomena. Donyi-Polo is invoked with reverence in the important prayers at state ceremonies and is visually central in the state seal and in other important art in public buildings. The Chief Minister has recently started an elite preparatory school in Itanagar named Donyi Polo Vidya Bhawan13, and an ashram for safeguarding tribal culture called Donyi Polo Mission. A ceremonial arch at the entrance to Itanagar is called the 'Mithun Gate' and other traditional religious motifs are used in the decoration of public buildings. Traditional religion is being integrated into the lifestyles of Arunachalese who are filling the most 'modern' of social roles. People in high positions in government or professions with advanced degrees, discussed with me the ways in which their religious beliefs shaped their present experiences in meaningful and deeply felt ways. For instance, traditional Adi religion includes a strong sense of personal 'fate'. Westerners too often see such beliefs as leading to 'fatalistic' world view that is incompatible with the need for ambition, creativity and change in 'modern' social roles. In fact, I was struck that certain high achieving and driven Adi's attributed their 'modern' success to their particular 'fate'.14 The handful of Christians I met in Arunachal Pradesh, all spoke of the importance of maintaining traditional rituals as a way of preserving their ethnic identity despite the strong pressure against this on the part of the fundamentalist Christian missionaries who tend to be active in the northeast. For instance, one banker and his wife who were Christian had had a second wedding ceremony in traditional Nishi style when they reached middle age to show their children how a 'real marriage should be done' which they described as 'beautiful' as they showed me their photos of the event. Aesthetic change: I was strongly impressed by the fascination with, and enjoyment of, tribal arts and crafts among the elite I met in Itanagar. Again, there is a great deal of syncretism, and much interest in the art of different groups within Arunachal Pradesh and across the border in Tibet and Burma. At dinner parties and informal interactions, people relished detailed conversation about specific and changing styles of weaving, jewelry and basketry. Intellectual tribal men often wore a handwoven jacket--even if it was not from their own ethnicity, although I did not see this among male governmental or other officials. Only non-affluent, more rural and less educated men can be seen in the streets of Itanagar with a traditional dao (machete), the shorts which have long replaced the breechclout, and, sometimes, a hornbill beak as headdress. Tribal women, however, in all walks of life often wear the handwoven gullah (sarong which is now pan-tribal and much longer than most women used to wear). Highly professional families made great effort to entertain me with the very distinctive tribal dishes and apong (laboriously brewed beer which can be made from as many as two dozen plants and herbs)--which require products which can often only be found in the pristine forest. In such homes one can see very beautiful displays of traditional basketry and weaving, and, when in people's homes, I was privileged to be shown stunning collections of beads and talok15 which were described as heirlooms reaching back centuries. Traditionally, some of the most precious individual beads in these very thick strands would be worth as much as ten mithun each. Women of all sorts have a loin loom in their house. One woman, married to a high achieving professional, described her weaving as her way of relaxing, expressing her creativity and finding 'peace'. Styles in weaving continue to change. People seemed proud and self assured about their ethnic aesthetic heritage--speaking of it not as a static archaicism but as a changing, still interesting reality which they view with a connoiseurly attitude. New forms of prestige and self worth: It was in this area that I observed the most self doubt and anguish among Arunachalese. In trying to understand prestige systems there are two main questions to ask. What is it that carries the symbolism of personal worth and status? In whose eyes do people look to find their sense of self worth? The first question has to do with how people define self worth. The second tries to find the social bonds which function as a sort of mirror to reflect self image. What are the reference groups for whom people enact and create their social persona? I will first address the first question--asking about the important symbolism of self worth and status. National and international markets (in both raw materials and consumer items) are rapidly entering the state. In many ways, markets find fertile ground in Arunachalese culture. Certain aspects of traditional culture groom people for entrepreneurialism. In some ways, people are prepared for risk taking and for a business logic by long standing habits of trade. Identification of self worth and social status with ownership of material goods is also continuous with some aspects of tribal systems of prestige. In most Arunachalese traditional cultures (with the exception of the ascetic traditions of Buddhism) there were strong institutions that equated personal worth and status with ownership of material items--beads, mithun, other ceremonial valuables, and, among sedentary farmers like the Apotani, with individual ownership of good land. From what I saw in Itanagar, many people, men and women, are responding to economic liberalization with eagerness, relishing the chance to start money making ventures. For many, the good life and self worth, seem increasingly to be equated with the ability to compete in larger markets. Conspicuous consumption as a demonstration of personal status was always a part of many tribal cultures. The important and contradictory question is the second one having to do with the social context around the symbolism of status items. What people seemed conflicted about was the question as to whom they were looking for self validation. What is the stage on which people imagine themselves to be acting? What audiences matter to them? It is in this area, that people seemed to me to be caught--often painfully--between contradictory worlds. From what I have read about traditional tribal systems of prestige--from flamboyant sumptuary display to rites of redistribution--there was much interplay between individual prestige and collective identity. As is so often true in horticultural societies, high achieving individuals achieved honor for themselves but this was also balanced by all sort of obligations to extended social webs--to redistribute wealth and to repay labor and patronage. These are systems with many checks and balances between individual achievement and collective responsibilities. In the present system, it is these social checks and balances which are liable to be irrevocably altered. The new elite is caught between a number of different reference groups. On one hand, the most prominant of them find themselves on a national or even international stage. These are stages where they have to invent identities before audiences who are likely to be ignorant, prejudiced (about the 'backwardness' of 'tribal' people) or romanticizing (of a little known, exotic and beautiful land). Who are they before these audiences? 'Arunachalese'? 'Indian'? 'Adi'? 'Nishi'? 'Monpa'? Fighting for respect and recognition against an often 'colonial' attitude, it can feel crucial to demonstrate one's equal worth. To do this, it can be tempting to try to compete by beating the outside audience at its own game. This can lead to a desire for development at any cost, as people feel pushed to demonstrate their ability to jump on the fast moving engine of industrial development out of a fear that they will be left behind. This can lead to a civil society which is very unlikely to have the capacity to plan for sustainability because the time frame of decision-making is foreshortened to immediate acquisition rather than longterm development. A very different reference group that still seemed important to many people was the wide web of tribal connections in the specific geographical locale from which their families came. People at all levels seemed to feel accountable to these networks. For instance, one prominant woman who married late, after she had established financial independence, still felt deeply accountable to her clan in choosing her mate. Her clan insisted that she not marry out of her tribe because they 'didn't want all that [they] had invested in her to be taken away from [their] people'. The very considerable achievements of this woman (financially and professionally) were seen by her kin group to be as much 'theirs' as 'hers'. In many other ways, she described her intense ambition for success as a way to 'raise up' her people. The homes and celebrations of leaders seemed extremely permeable to all sorts of people asking for help--suggesting that social barriers based on class are not absolute but that ordinary people still feel that they can approach powerful people. Even the most elite seemed to embedded in ongoing webs of (ethnically and kin based) patronage and responsibility which seemed to be part of the fabric of their self identity. A culture of non-sustainability: the present causes of deforestationPresent patterns of deforestation show the ways in which traditional and modern can converge to create serious environmental damage. Repeatedly, during my time in India, I heard confidential accounts about illegal deforestation in Arunachal Pradesh both on land held by tribal groups and by government. If I understand these reports correctly, timber on tribal lands is not to be sold but tribal people can get permits to cut such timber. WhatI understand to be happening is that tribal people are selling their permits to commercial loggers who, when they have access to the land, are liable to cut considerably more than specified by the permit (one person said 10 times the permitted amount). In this sort of clandestine situation, with very confused judicial jurisdictions, logging is likely to be particularly destructive. Not owning the land, and in a hurry to move on, businesses are particularly unlikely to follow sustainable practices. When I asked people to estimate the ecological damage from this, I was told that it probably exceeds what is apparent in official reports and that a good estimate is that significant deforestation has moved about halfway across the width of the state from the plains up, with a substantial pocket of deforestation in the Tawang area from the long term residence of the Indian Army. The flow of money from this sort of uncontrolled logging is likely to have particularly destructive sociocultural consequences. Huge fortunes are flowing out of the state but little is being reinvested in the social infrastructure in a way that can help the state develop. Taxes are not being paid by tribals or by illegal outside foresters. Such a situation can have an extremely corrupting effect on governmental officials through complex systems of payback which I do not understand. It is impossible to get objective data but there is a widespread perception that much illegal money is being made. This situation is exacerbated by the political culture surrounding development monies. The capital city Itanagar has sprung up from a village in the last 20 years and has the feel of a boom town. The primary source of the 'boom' is development money from the Centre. As I have said people feel ambivalent about this money--an ambivalence that makes it seem like something external to be exploited rather than something that comes from, and should return to, their people. When people are groomed to maintain social status within personalistic networks of patronage more than within more universalized standards of achievement this can lead to a political ethos within which people feel compelled to demonstrate 'face' and 'clout' through status markers. There is a feel of this in Itanagar. Lower status people continually complained about extensive inefficiency and low productivity in government projects. The boundary between 'public' and 'private' seems fluid, with people conducting business from home, outside office hours, or in the context of seemingly informal social interaction. To balance these trends Itanagar also has a remarkably dedicated group of technical experts from the Center as well as a sophisticated and well-educated native personnel. This dedicated group (crossing the boundaries in and out of government) is articulate, has a clear vision of what is needed, and appears willling to work under the difficult circumstances of rural Aruchachal Pradesh. Both this dedicated corps with the long-term vision, as well as those who see only short-term gain, come together in discussion wanting practical alternatives and actions for sustainable development. There seems to be remarkable consensus that now is the time to try new approaches...or it will be soon too late. |
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Notes:
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