The iconic images of Garhwali peasant women hugging trees, apparently to protect them from being cut down, have become synonymous with the Chipko movement. Perceptions of the movement that have also become popular are its ecological and feminist forms. However, these are only misconceptions that overshadow the real and initial objectives of a people’s movement for rights over local forests.

The movement began in 1973 in Uttarakhand, then a part of Uttar Pradesh, by communities in the Garhwal Himalaya region against commercial tree-felling that led to degradation of forests and natural disasters. Their demands were clear: Abolish the contract system of tree-felling and establish the rights of communities over the management and use of forests. Their aim was to develop local economies by promoting small-scale forest-based industries, while ensuring forest conservation.

However, “the ecological and feminist form of Chipko was invented” in 1977-79, as writes historian Shekhar Pathak in The Chipko Movement: A People’s History. This shift came when Sundarlal Bahuguna, considered a pioneer of Chipko, demanded “a complete ban on tree felling” in line with his perception of deep ecology.

The feminist image, on the other hand, was created due to a single incident that social activist from Uttarakhand Vandana Shiva highlighted in her book without context. The 1988 book, Staying Alive: Women, Ecology and Development, introduces Bachni Devi as protesting in Adwani forest against her husband, described as contractor Sunderlal Saklani.

Shiva identified it as “the most dramatic turn in the new confrontation”, perceiving it as the rise of a gender conflict. But historical facts show that the movement had gender collaboration.

As per Pathak’s book, Bachni Devi’s husband was not Saklani but rather Bakhtawar Singh, a village head. Dhoom Singh Negi, a Chipko leader present at the protest, also alludes to this in an interview cited in a 2006 book Chipko by Kunwar Prasun, a journalist and social activist in Garhwal. Negi is quoted saying that it was Singh who had alerted the village residents of Saklani’s plan to fell trees.

We also have found, through analysis of literature and conversations with activists of the region, that the situation unfolded quite differently. On December 4, 1977, Negi began a fast in Adwani forest to protest tree-felling. He ended the fast four days later after women of the village tied rakhis to the trees marked for felling and assured Negi that they would protect the forest.

That month, a seven-day recitation of Srimad Bhagwat was organised to attract more people. Bachni Devi joined the movement with Jhabri Devi of Adwani, Sudesha Devi of Rampur and Saunpa Devi of Berni, who later emerged as prominent leaders — they were not “peasant women”, as often claimed. Men, children and college students pledged to protect the forest, but their role is ignored in literature.

The “gender conflict” has also been negated by Gaura Devi of Reni, one of Chipko’s most publicised personalities. In a book, Tribal movement, politics and religion in India, she is quoted saying, “We have no quarrel with anybody”. She acknowledged that the large-scale women participation was due to the migration of men seeking jobs.

In interviews with us, activists Vimla Bahuguna, Madhu Pathak, Ranjana Bhandari, Dulari Devi, Bachni Devi and Sudesha Behn denied claims of Chipko being an “ecofeminist” movement against male “exploitation” of women and nature. For Sudesha Behn, it was a struggle for life and livelihood for all. Her male comrades were her “bhai log”, many of whom, including Negi, inspired women to participate in the movement. She implied that not all women joined, contradicting the solidarity of Chipko women projected in feminist literature.

Then there is Chipko’s ecological slogan: “What do forests bear? Soil, water and pure air”. Shiva’s book incorrectly states that the slogan was created by Bachni Devi in 1977. The slogan was, in fact, composed by Prasun, and we conf irmed this during interviews with Negi, Prasun’s family and activists.

Next come the widely circulated photographs of women encircling trees. A close inspection shows that they bear no mention of dates, names of activists, contractors, forests or locations. These photographs are reenactments. Sudesha Behn, one of the women photographed, told us they were taken during a demonstration requested by visitors from outside Uttarakhand.

In a 1993 interview with Down To Earth, Chandi Prasad Bhatt, a veteran Chipko activist, said, “No woman ever had to hug a tree to protect it…It was not necessary to do so, for the mere threat was enough.” The women were ready to cling to trees and guard forests against loggers. But, said Vimla Bahuguna in a 1992 interview, loggers fled when women approached them.

Finally, the very name “Chipko” is related to a misconception. The popular belief is that it came up as media circulated images of women embracing trees. But the word was first used in a poem by Ghanshyam Raturi, a poet associated with the movement, and popularised by Bhatt, according to Pathak’s book. What were the results of these misconceptions?

In 1981, the then Uttar Pradesh government banned tree-felling. This not only negated the original demand for localised, forest-based economies, but also ignored people’s desire to be involved in forest management — which, in turn, would have enhanced women’s participation. This contradicts the feminist image of Chipko.

People blamed “internationalisation” of Chipko as a conservation movement for halting Uttarakhand’s development. But over the past 50 years, mechanised transportation and telecommunication led to penetration of the market system in mountain villages. With enhanced education and diverse livelihood opportunities, younger generations aspire for a better life in cities.

Availability of log cylinders, water connections and education reduced women’s reliance on farming and nature, but also weakened their bond with the environment. The birth of another Chipko, and revival of a demand for right to local economies and development, seems unlikely now.

Debarati Banerjee is associate professor of history at Netaji Subhas Open University, West Bengal. Jayanta Bandyopadhyay is former professor at the Indian Institute of Management Calcutta.

Simply Put: Elephant in the room