
STRAY patches of green in the Tehri Garhwal district tell a different story from the depressing degradation of the other areas
in the Garhwal. Garhwal's long-abiding tradition of managing
its forests has reasserted itself as people have come together to
retrieve the lost acres of green.
That the people themselves are best capable of utilising
their forests is illustrated by some success stories. In all the
cases in this district, the attempts at afforestation worked best
when the women were closely involved. At the 3 villages of
Dadua, Gaindee an 'd Koti in the valley, an active women's
council has taken over the initiative to regenerate lost forest
cover. In the neighbouring Lekhwargaon village, the pundits
(priestly caste) continue to nurture a sylvan setting, just as
they have been doing for the past 300 years. "We are the oldm
forest management committee in the Tehri Garhwal district
says a proud Sampurnanand Pehnewly, gram sabha (viliap
council) member of the village.
About 130 families live in Lekhwargaon. The inhabitans
have traditionally been clerks and mi.pisters to the Rajas
Tehri and were given traditional rights to 120 ha of foresiL
Today, the Raja is history but his legacy remains. The fores
Or consists of both civil soyum (commons);Iand and reserve kw
est land (see box: Uncommon sense). The trees in the soyma
land are mostly banj, bhimal, chestnut and kaphooL A few,
Jars add to the grace.
"But we do not plant deodar," explains Rama
Pelmewly, gram sabha member and a college lecturer. "It
commercial tree and we have no use for'it. Besides, we do not
want to attract the contractor's axe." According to Darshini
in of the village, "We have no water scarcity in our village
1"Use of the forest." The forest is administered by a van
pwti (forest council) appointed by the gram sabha, in which
kast I person represents each family. The members of the
m sdibha informally select a small group of about 50 for the
a samiti.
Protect or perish
The task of protecting the forest is entrusted to a chowkidar
urd), Purnanand Pehnewly. He is a short man: "I am only
wt tall," he jokes. "But I guard a forest which is several kilogres long." Purnanand's family has traditionally been van
6haks (forest custodians). He is paid a paltry Rs 250 a
nth from collections from each family in the village. "For
wars I have guarded this forest," he says.
Having survived a bear attack, Purnanand patrols
forest everyday, armed with a licensed gun. At
an he whistles and the forest is declared open for
village women. At 2 pm he whistles again, sigIhng the forest closed. Each woman is allowed to
kct as much dry wood as she can wrap around a
kr 4 handspans long. However, herbs and dry leaves
freely collected. "We mix dry leaves with cowdung
use it to fertilise our fields," says Kamala Devi, a resident.
First time offenders caught breaking the rules of
eg the forest are let off with a reprimand; the second
c round, the offender must abjectly apologise; the
4 time, a fine is imposed; nabbed for the fourth
c. the offender is handed over to the panchayat that
rs out any punishment it deems fit. But if a person
n another village is caught collecting fuel and fodder from the forest, Purnanand is free to seize
the implements of the trespasser.
However, efforts at protecting the forest have been fraught with tension and conflict.
alys Sampurnanand Pelmewly, "Neighbouring villages resented us because we did not
allow them to use our forest. In 1977, the Gar
and Sinwalgaon villages took us to court. We
went all the way to the Supreme Court and
the judge upheld our traditional right to the
forest."
But a bigger danger looms ahead. The
Public Works Department (PWD) intends to
build a road connecting Lekhwargaon to
Lamgaon and neighbouring villages, which
will cut right through the forest. The villagers
do not want the road at the cost of the forest.
Says Pitamber Dutt Pelmewly, another gram
sabha member, "We do need the road, but the
PWD should change the direction and cut
through our fields instead. We can sacrifice
our fields but not this precious forest which
we have safeguarded for 300 years."
The better hinge
Further down the valley, afforestation
attempts hinge on women's efforts to improve degraded gram
sabha land. In 1988, the women of Gamdee, Koti and Dadua
villages were'persuaded by Pratap Shikar of the Jan Jagriti
Sanstha, a local NGO, to form a Mahila Mangal Dal (MMD) to
regenerate part of the commons.
Dadua village concentrawd its efforts on 6 ha of civil
soyum land, Gaindee village on 5 ha of gram panchayat land,
and Koti village on 12 ha of gram panchayat land. The 3 villages faced stiff resistance from the neighbouring Aampatta
village, which claimed traditional,rights over the territory.
Says
Ujala Devi of Dadua, "At night, some of them broke our
boundary wall and cut the sa@lings we had planted." The district magistrate, Anand Mishra, resolved the conflict as old
records revealed that no such rights existed.
Trees required by women for their own use were planted
on these lands - banj, bhimal and guriyar. "The saplings
Women's efforts bring brighter prospects for their children
began to grow quickly and we were very encour-
aged," says Sitala
Devi, a shy, middle-aged woman
in Dadua. Anyone trying to
desecrate this patch of
green was penalised. At Dadua and Gaindee,
the work of protection is undertaken by the MMD itself
f ore!"We also keep a close watch on each other," says
local Ujala Devi.
"After 3 years of plantation, we struck
land
water near an oak tree
and this was taken as a sign
are s
of good luck."
One woman from
each family in the 3 villages is
who
a member of the mmi) and in
each village an
500
adhyaksha (chief) is elected for a term of 5
years.
depa
The MMD meets at least once a month, when
ture,
accounts
are presented and ongoing programmes
beco
discussed. "For the first
3 years, we did not use the
land," says Srimati Dulari, MMD
adhyaksha of Koti,
local
"Now, in September, when the grass is high
and
Shiki
thick, we hold a general meeting. The grass is harthaV
vested from September to March and is allowed to
map
regenerate
for the rest of the year. The
protected land is divided into equal
por
tions and grass rights are sold to the
women of the MMD. The
money is
deposited with the MMD to be used for
the upkeep of the
village." The chowki
dar's salary is also paid from the pro
ceeds
of this sale.
United they stand
The women have realised that unity is
strength. They have travelled to New
Tehri town and lobbied for a primary
school near their village. Today, a government school stands witness to the
success of their efforts. Matters like buying sewing machines and building gobar
gas plants - and latrines - feature prominently in
the meetings.
However, all is not well in the valley. In the neighbouring
village of Agrakhal, a once lush forest looks denuded. Recalls
village pradhan (chief) Gulab Singh, "In 1988, the gram sabha
decided to restore about 20 ha of forest reserve land adjacent
to the village." For 4 years the land was left alone and it began
to regenerate itself. Says Singh, "We planted banj, but the land
did not need our help."
In 1990, the forest was declared open for limited use and
women were permitted to enter and collect grass, dry leaves
and twigs. Animals were not permitted to graze. The forest
began to partially fulfill the needs of the village. But, in 1992,
the forest department (FD) fenced off the land and appointed a
chowkidar. As a result, the very people who have nurtured the
forest for 4 years now began to systematically destroy it.
'Best protectors or worst raiders'
"Women are the best protectors of the forest and its worst
raiders," says Gulab Singh. Caught in this strange crossfire
between the FD and his own people, Gulab Singh does
not know who to blame. "The women of our village sneak
in to collect leaves and hack branches of trees," he says,
adding that "the forest has not been able to benefit the
villagers after the FD took over the land".
The efforts of the FL) to revive dead forests are viewed with
scepticism by most villagers. Says Attar Singh, the pradhan of
the neighbouring Kotgaon village, "They plant strange trees
and nobody cares to look after them." Adds Gulab Singh, "The
chowkidars hired by the FE) are worse than clerks. The moment
their backs are turned, the women raid the forest. Degraded
forest cover can only be revived by handing the forests over to
the people." Attar Singh alleges that the FD contractors axe
trees and smuggle them away under the cover of night.
The people prefer the banj tree, but the FD plants miles of
chir trees. Says Ranjana Mahajan, divisional forest officer, civd
soyum lands, "Reviving degraded forest cover is a losing battle.
Because of the poverty, there is heavy biotic pressure. This
makes regeneration much more difficult. Chir is planted
because it is a fast-growing tree."
Perceptions are changing slowly in thi Garhwal and the
people are, in a small way, taking matters into their own
hands. Trees locally used are being planted and the forest
management techniques based on local traditions are being
revived. The afforestation success story, therefore, invariabl
hinges on the self-preserving altruism of the local people.