Life at Indian Sundarbans: A Ray of Hope in Dystopian Times

By Dayabati Roy, Senior Researcher, University of Helsinki

Banadevi

As I approached the settlement along the shores of a Matlaa River, the make-shift shops caught me off guard and I stopped by in front of a seller. It was at twilight during Bengal’s winter. The sun was about to go down. A young woman stood at the other side of the counter. I began to converse with her about their whereabouts. She says, “we all are from the surrounding villages of Sundarbans. Earlier many of us used to live of forests and rivers, but we have been compelled to switch to such odd works”. I was curious to know about what compelled the villagers and the woman in particular to opt for these odd works. Did the forests cease to exist as a sustainable resource for the forest-dependent people? Alternatively, did the forest conservation law force them to leave the resourceful forests? In response to my questions, she says, “my father and husband used to collect honey from the dense forests. Though it was a risky job, it could provide a steady livelihood for us. My husband would also work as a boatman on the side. However, one night my father dreamed about Banadevi, the goddess of forests. In his dream, the Banadevi had asked him to stop collecting honey from the forests as they became depleted due to the over-use by the forest-dependent people. Banadevi is considered to be the supreme goddess in Sundarbans. She protects our lives and livelihoods. So my father was unable to ignore the Banadevi’s commandment. He did not even allow my husband to go into the dense forests. Since then, we have been looking for a modest sustenance.”

Her story prompts me to think about the way mother nature as the moral arbiter is shaping indigenous peoples’ lives and livelihoods. Interestingly, the woman did not have any knowledge about the climate-change related conservation laws that were strictly being implemented in the Sundarbans, and due to which many people were compelled to leave their native villages. Like other fellow villagers, she is aware of the fact that environmental resources, for instance, forests and rivers, are being degraded due to the predatory attitude of a section of unscrupulous traders and islanders. However, the islanders do not have any easy option to opt for in terms of alternative livelihoods. Some of them would discontinue the forest-related work, despite their hardship, only when they get a divine revelation from Banadevi. Hence, in this specific case, eschatological anxieties are related to the realm of the divine, but they could also be shaped by other forces. Take other islanders’ narratives, for instance. Some islanders had already changed their livelihoods beyond the domain of forests and rivers as they realised that these were no longer viable options due to environmental degradation and forest laws. Hence, most islanders desperately look for alternative livelihood options like industrial farming or migration.

Selective Denial of Environmental Degradation

While the islanders would spend their days in utmost uncertainty, successive governments in West Bengal have been projecting a vision of development planning a progressive future for the Sundarbans. The key to this vision of development is the ‘rational’ utilisation of coastal nature. The governments do not bother if this use of nature degrades the environment since they strongly believe that the societies are going upward in the development pathways they have planned. Due to the influence of international guidelines on climate change mitigation and adaptation, various governments would formulate and implement some conservation laws only to prevent a similar approach to the ‘rational’ utilization of nature at the hinterland impacting local communities; while several researchers show that other forest lands in India are being converted into mines and industrial zones in the name of development.[1] [2]  The lawmakers are preventing the mitigation and adaptation laws from being implemented not only because they are selectively denying the existence of environmental degradation but also due to their current vision of development which promotes the utilisation of nature at its greatest level.

A narrative of Development

Governments often conceptualise ideas for development in terms of economic growth. The state​ narrative of development for Sundarbans biosphere is not an exception. On the one hand, the government is formulating and implementing the forest conservation laws in Sundarbans responsible for blocking a large number of forest-dependent islanders. On the other hand, it has been pursuing the same path of industrial agriculture in Sundarbans as it does in other parts of the country. The protagonists of pro-growth initiative believe that, ‘increased economic activity will lead to higher income levels’. However, findings from my ethnography indicate that the increased economic growth/activity will not necessarily lead to increased employment opportunities but are rather key to environmental damage. Economic growth never ensures higher income levels for all. The belief in growth as a driver of progress blurs the vision of policymakers as to how the environment could be protected. To them, the issues of environmental degradation are only an inevitable by-product of development. 

Cycle of Loss and Fortune

While the governments have been taking the pro-growth path in the belief that it is the only path of progress, the islanders are being deprived of their most important resources to sustain their livelihoods. However, they are still hoping for a better future. Where are their hopes emerging from? Are their hopes shaped by their conception of time? The islanders in Sundarbans experience cycles off loss and destruction, since they face series of disasters in their lives almost on a yearly basis. Cyclones and floods occur almost every year in Sundarbans. Furthermore, sea level rise and river erosion are regular features of their environment too. After each and every cyclone that severely impacts their lives and livelihoods, the islanders survive again with a new beginning. While understanding that the nature surrounding them has been degrading, they do always hope that a new order will arise after every devastation. In a similar vein, climate change as an apocalyptic narrative is not embraced by the people either.

Just after cyclone Amphan hit the Sundarbans, I observed a counter-apocalyptic discourse and current among the population. The islanders in Sundarbans seized every opportunity as part of disaster management efforts to rebuild their lives. They were even vocal in condemning other injustices and vulnerabilities that pre-existed in the Sundarbans. They were resisting the hegemonic narratives of disaster-induced vulnerability and decay in favour of ideas of resilience by foregrounding other injustices. When I enquired about the aftermath of cyclone Amphan, one activist informed me that the islanders had benefited from the cyclone. I had received the same response after the 2009  cyclone Aila. I learned that it was not always true that agriculture gets spoiled due to the abundance of saline water/soil, but agriculture can actually flourish in saline soil. Due to the cyclone, after the first layer of salt on the soil was removed with the flow of rains, the soil became more fertile because of the presence of silt and a small residue of salt[3] [4] . Chemical manure and pesticides also got washed out due to the Aila-induced flood improving fertility here again. Thus, when the peasants began to cultivate the land in new vigour, the land compensated them with enhanced rate of production. All the respondents said that the rate of production increased now in comparison with that of pre-Aila period. One farmer went away and said, “we achieved a lot because of Aila; in fact, nona aane sona (salinity brings gold/prosperity)”.

The same phenomenon can be observed for the post-Aila rate of production of fisheries. The fishermen in this region grow usually sea fishes or nona-fishes. These fishes now grow rapidly due to the presence of silt and salt. Even the ponds which had sweet non-saline water before Aila, and absorbed saline water after Aila became a very good source of income. One of the fishermen who owned a pond which provided just some amount of fishes annually for family consumption made a business of around Rs. 50,000 in the aftermath of Aila. He earned this high amount of money by selling the tiger prawns grown in the new found saline water of the pond. All these efforts have made the Sunderbans region a vibrant place in terms of its economy. It will be interesting to explore what is evolving in the Sunderbans in the near future. But, one thing is clear:  the people of the Sunderbans are not living only with disasters, they are also living with hope.