POLITICAL history cannot be separated from cultural history, and cultural history is not a catalogue of events or a roster of events or a roster of personages, but an unfolding process of interaction between humans and nature. German scholar Leopald von Ranke, the father of modern positivist history, defined its objective in 1830 as the process of " acquiring knowledge about human affairs". But, as eminent environmental historian Donald Worster insists, humans are essentially a part of nature, and it is impossible to disentangle human affairs from what is happening to forests, animals, insects and microorganisms.
Hall Distinguished professor of American History at the University of Kansas, USA, Worster says that history has mostly been understood as a chronology of political events-the rise and fall of kingdoms and their rulers-a simplistic notion that presumes that those who did not record their history did not have one. But developments in the social and natural sciences changed that outlook. History became more interpretative and oral narratives of history from tribes and other marginalised groups began to be taken seriously. A distinct strand in the new interpretation has been the ecological and naturalist point of view.
But investigations into India's ecological history have been few and far between. In its continuing efforts to understand the relevance of ecology in Indian culture, the Centre for Science and Environment (CSE) brought together academicians and practitioners from various fields at a conference on ecological history and traditions. Held in New Delhi on March 27-29, 1997, the conference focussed on three major issues:
How much do we know about ecology in early India?
How nature-friendly were Indians in the past?
What was the role of the State in managing the environment?
Reconstructing the past
A great deal is known today about ancient Indian culture and civilisation. Recent archaeological investigations and interdisciplinary studies of contemporary cultures have helped cultural historians explain the rise and fall of early civilisations, says M K Dhavalikar, former director and head of the department of archaeology in Deccan College, Pune. "Earlier, scholars could explain what happened in Mohenjodaro or Harappa. Now we can tell you why. It is called the new archaeology," says Dhavalikar. Interdisciplinary study, an essential part of the new approach, trashes the classical definition of history and the old notion of various disciplines as watertight compartments.
The new mode of research depends on teamwork. Studies over the past 13 years in Inamgoan near Pune are a good example, Inmgaon had a developed culture around 3500 BC. Archaeologists unearthed large rectangular houses, burial sites and remains of a canal irrigation system. This was followed by contributions from physical anthropologists, biologists, geologists, climatologists and others. The conference underscored the importance of such multidisciplinary studies. Other contributions to the conference demonstrated the need to study events with global repercussions. A paper by Richard Grove of the Australian National University, Canberra, traced the influence of EL Nino-an irregular, southward current in the Pacific Ocean associated with weather changes-on the monsoon in India in the 18th century. Grove contends that a strong EL Nino always induced a drought in India; often, there were droughts in Australia as well in the same period.
Cultural adaptations to nature
What do ecological historians look for? "We commonly identify three dimensions." Says Worster in the context of the history of the US. First, thee is the history of the earth and its ecosystem. A second dimension is the history of economic production and consumption, including factors of production and the evolution of techniques in farming, hunting and fishing. Then there is the history of a cultural. These dimensions have a universal validity.
Inamgaon offers a classic example of environmental history
studies. The people of Inamgaon were non-vegetarians and
domesticated cattle, goats, sheep, pigs and horses. The Ghore,
Inamgaon's local river, used to be in high flood. To divert the
flood waters, the people built canals, which also helped in irrigation. With irrigation, they could grow wheat, a crop alien to the
Deccan. Flour was made from the roasted grain crushed on flat
stones, remains of which have been found. "By 1200 BC there had
been a marked cultural change," Dhavalikar explains. Smaller
round houses replaced the rectangular, pottery became coarse,
and silos were no more used to store grain. With less rainfall, cultivation declined, and wheat eventually disappeared. A pastoral
economy took over, as suggested by a larger population of goat
and sheep. Also, only 0.05 per cent of the remains at the site in
previous times were identified as deer bones. In the later period,
more deer bones are found at the site - up to 15 per cent of the
total. "That means they had to depend much more on hunting,"
Dhavalikar concludes. This is the period between 1200 Bc and
800BC(known as the 'nuclear winter' in Europe) - when there
was' immense aridity throughout the world.
Similar close links between ecological and historical phenomena
Are evident in Harappan townships. D P Agarwal, former professor and chairperson of the palaeo-climatic group at the physical Research Laboratory, Ahmedabad, says that
Harappan town dependent on crops cultivated on the alluvium of the Indus and its tributaries. Forests were confined
largely to river banks. As the region became increasingly arid
around 1700 BC, they began migrating towards the densely
forested region in the Gangetic doab (the land between
Ganga and the Yamuna). "They came right up to the fringes
of the doab, but could not colonise the forests with their
copper and bronze technology," says Agarwal. Thus, the
second phase of urbanisation had to wait till middle of the
first millennium BC when iron technology made it possible to
drain swamps, clear forests and cultivate alluvial plains.
Agarwal emphasises the role of population pressure on environment, which, in turn, influenced the fate of these cultures.
For instance, the semi-arid ecology of the Indus Valley could
not sustain very large sedentary populations. The bronze technology exploited its environment too severely: agriculture
expanded, forests were logged, and available water used incautiously, resulting in the collapse of the civilisation. Agarwal
summarises the lesson learnt: "Whenever a population
increases beyond the carrying capacity of the local
ecology, it dies out."
The onset of drier climate in 1700 BC left its mark on
southern India as well. According to a paper published
by M Cartini and others, pollen studies in Uttara
Kannada (south-west India) indicate a decline of
forests and mangroves and an increase in savannas
(Current Science, Vol 6 1, No 9 and 10). M D Subhash
Chandran of Dr Baliga College of Arts and Science,
Kumta, Karnataka, adds that the agri-pastoral people
probably migrated towards the more humid west
coast. Chandran postulates that the slash-and-burn
agriculture associated with agri -pastoralism and
the reclamation of estuaries for rice farming could
have led to the vegetational changes recorded in
the second millennium BC in the area.
By 1700 BC, the Harappan culture declined and
an identifiably different culture known as the
Aryan gradually replaced it in northwestern
India. While "no specific ancient work on the
science of ecology has come to light," says S P
Dasgupta of the Centre for Study of Man and
Nature, Calcutta, instructions recorded in holy texts
do indicate a positive approach towards the environment. Aryans worshipped nature. Indra, the god of
thunder and rain, Varuna, the lord of wind, Surya
(Sun) and Prithvi (Earth) were their deities. Says Jaweed Ashraf of
Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU), New Delhi: "Their lifestyle
involved close interaction with nature in their day-to-day life.
Hence their attitude towards nature was that of ecstatic worship."
The cultural centre shifted to the Gangetic Valley during
the later Vedic era (circa 2500 BC to 1000 BC). But the cultural
emphasis on affinity with nature remained. For instance, the
Brihadaranyaka Upanishad says: "The earth is helpful to all
living beings, and all living beings are of helpful effect to the
earth." Ashraf points out that the later scriptures such as the
Puranas included diktats on nature conservation and pre-
scribed punishments for offenders. The most comprehensive
social code of the times, the Manu Smriti (circa 1000 BC), Stipulates: "For cutting down fruit trees, shrubs, creepers or flowering plants, a person should be made to mutter the prescribed
Vedic mantra a hundred times for his atonement."
The age of the epics (the Ramayana and the Mahabharata)
brought forth new attitudes towards forests, such as adoption
of vanaprastha (life in forest) in one's twilight years. Inroads into previously unsettled regions brought the Aryans into conflict with forest dwellers. Ramayana is said to have been
uttered by Valmiki on witnessing the hunting of two birds. The
Mahabharata exhorts kings to protect forests and wildlife.
After the period of the epics, janapadas or republics flourished
in northern India. Studies show that the republican tribes
often adopted popular eco-friendly practices. Protecting
sacred forests (chaityas) was one such practice. Historian
Romila Thapar notes that such chaityas were popular cult
objects. While the Vedic tradition gradually bred an orthodoxy, sects like Buddhism and Jainism emerged around
500 Bc. Buddhism adopted the cult of the chaityas. For
instance, in Vaishali, the Buddhist places of worship came up
in three mahavanas (great forests) named Gotamak chaitya,
Chapala chaitya and Ananda chaitya.
There is considerably more evidence of ecological practices
after Chandragupta Maurya ascended the throne in 321 BC.
Arthashastra, the famous text on state policy written by
Kautilya, classifies forests and stresses the importance of protecting certain types of forests. Kautilya systematised change in
landuse from jungle to agricultural fields and orchards, says
Ashraf. In the transformation of natural to 'cultivated' wilderness people could maintain optimal density of plantations,
depending on the carrying capacity of the
land, he explains. Perhaps this foresight explains why forests
and wilderness in India remained intact for centuries despite
wars, urbanisation and the spread of agriculture and commerce.
Kautilya also realised the importance of irrigation, and suggested a water tax for state-assisted irrigation. One of
Chandragupta's governors built a dam across a river near
Girnar in western India, creating a large lake meant to supply
water for the region. Romila Thapar notes that a local inscription records the continuous maintenance of this dam for 800
years after it was built. The famous edicts of Emperor Ashoka
refer to protection of forests and wildlife. Interestingly, non-
vegetarianism in the period came to be regarded as undesirable.
In the Gupta period (300-600 AD) the great Sanskrit poet
and playwright Kalidasa wrote Shakuntalam. The work has
some of the most beautiful verse on human-nature interplay.
Taking care of forests was apparently considered a virtue for the
nobility, though hunting was permitted. In south India, the
Sangam literature (100-400 AD) tells us that villages were surrounded by large forest tracts akin to the mahavanas of the
north. Under dynasties such as the Cholas, Pandyas and Cheras,
worship of trees was a common practice. Notes Chandran:
"Despite much deforestation in the Deccan, substantial patches
of forests remained until the systematic exploitation by the
British in the early 19th century. Relics of sacred groves remain to this day, sheltering rare habitats and plant and animal species.
Hunting and tree-felling were subject to communal regulations." For tribes all over India, forests were always associated with dieties. Even after they
were absorbed into the varna system as low castes or as
casteless people, they continued worshipping sacred groves and deities.
Ashraf points out that during the rule of
Ghiyasuddin Khilji (who proclaimed himself sultan in Delhi in 1320),
the process of clearing jungles started "at a serious
pace" around
Delhi for reasons of security. Meo tribals
from Mewat, taking advantage of the thick forests
around Delhi, attacked the
city regularly.
So the sultans
replaced the jungles with
extensive orchards. During
the reign of Firoz Tughlaq,
Delhi alone had 2,500
orchards, Ashraf notes.
The Sultans promoted Persian
herbal medicine, organiseed
hunting and
lift irrigation;
wells and water bodies
developed by them still dot
Delhi's landscape.
During the Mughal period (1526-1720), the
stability of the society
depended on settled villages and
revenue-yielding land, point out David Arnold and
Ramachandra Guha in
Nature, Culture, Imperialism.
However, chronicles of Mughal
expeditions note forays through
thick
jungles and vast tracts of
uncultivated land. Shahbaz
Khan, one of Akbar's generals,
had to spend "nearly two
months engaged in cutting down
trees" before capturing a rebel
fort in Bihar, narrates the
Akbarnama.
But the Mughals struck a balance between deforestation for
strategic reasons and
protection of
the green wilderness. They protected forest their own shake, and
built orchards in, and around their
cities. Ashraf notes that they
were ones who gave the north Indian
landscape a distinct character till
Indian Forester, for instance, played an important role in
colonial and more recent interventions led to its destruction.
Natural resource management under
the British was a radical shift from
earlier conservation policies. For the
first time, commercial forestry practices became widespread in India.
Forests were categorised on the basis
of commercial value, points out D D Dangwal of the National Institute of
Science, Technology and Development
Studies (NISTADS), New Delhi. The
impact of the policy was soon visible in
the Himalayan region. Replenishing
and restocking forests with commercial
species was an essential component of
the strategy that led to monoculture in
forests. The policy ignored the value of
non-commercial species for the local
communities and the effects of overexploitation of forests.
Gibson, a conservator of forests in the
then Bombay Presidency, wrote in 1846
that deforestation was leading to diminishing soil fertility, an increase in
temperature and aridity. He cited the
example of south Konkan. Gibson represented the stray liberal voice in the British bureaucracy. Although the British under
stood the significance of forests and saw
deforestation as an ecological threat, this did
not affect government policy. In March
1929, a silviculture conference held at Dehradun passed a resolution for the preservation of flora - but only the United Provinces and Bihar were represented.
Nandini Sundar, a researcher from Edinburgh University,
UK, sums up the
British experience: "It is an accepted fact that
the colonial state arrogated to itself the right to regulate
the ecological and social landscape of the country." The
best example of British arrogance could be seen in the way they
dealt with
Bastar from 1891 to 1947. The ban on grazing and the beginnings of commercial forestry from 1891 onwards resulted in a
rebellion in 1910. Between 1921-1947,
the British attitude changed somewhat.
Shifting cultivation was allowed in
Abujhmarh. But conditions in the rest of the state remained the
same. The experience of Chhattisgarh -
where land and forest
laws overruled tribal rights, leading to revolts - was similar.
The construction of canals was another example intervention. The British
irrigation practices Parveen Singh, studying for a doctorate at JNU: "The
intervention in irrigation
precluded rehabilitation of the traditional system. It also drastically altered the drainage patterns of NISTADS says that creation of public opinion was
the main 19th century conservation movement,
both in India and abroad. Popular science journals were a
the appreciation of forestry
issues among the public.
It is clear from contemporary accounts that, throughout
and exploit nature. While foreign influences contributed
to ecological degradation, valuable lessons could be learnt -
for example from the Mughals, who introduced landscape
gardening. The British and the Portuguese, on their part,
made it a practice to collect weather statistics, which is
invaluable for environmental research.
The question inevitably arises: What
was the role of the State in the management of the environment? Obviously,
the State was not as well defined in the
past as it is today. "There are two principles on which a modern government
works. The first is to nationalise a
resource; second, to create a bureaucracy to manage that resource," says
Anil Agarwal, director of CSE.
Most of the past regimes of India
left natural resources more or less out
side this system. Traditionally, communities had a substantial say in matters
relating to the use of local natural
resources. State intervention was mini
mal, positive and unrestrictive. Later
kingdoms experimented with different
forms of forest administration. There
were hunting reserves for kings. In the Mahabharata, Krishna
argues for the creation of an efficient administration to look
after forests, and setting up of wildlife reserves and sanctuaries. Bimbisara, the king of Magadha in the fifth century Bc,
made it mandatory to seek State permission before forests
could be cleared and wastelands reclaimed.
Was the State, then, all powerful? Niladi Bhattacharya of
JNU notes that, often, the power of the State has been exaggerated. While historians perceive the Mauryan, the Chola and
the Mughal eras as ones in which highly centralised states
flourished, recent research contradicts this assumption. Local
communities were incorporated into the State and certain
rights of the communities were retained. Systems of management of local forests were flexible and depended on local
needs. Even strong empires that espoused forest conservation
and wildlife protection left legal options open for domestication of animals and hunting of dangerous wild beasts.
According to noted historian and Gandhian, Dharampal
(see Interview: page 53), village communities in pre-British
India enjoyed almost total rights over their natural resources.
The rudest shock to this system was delivered by the British
who introduced a rigid bureaucracy.
Gandhi's plea for rural small-scale
industrialisation and village-level people's organisations found a nationwide
echo during the nationalistic movement, but not after Independence. The
result, in Dharampal's words, is that we
still live under a'hegemony of a minority. The majority have little power.
So what does history teach us? There
can be no doubt that there are important lessons in conservation to be learnt
from the past. According to Mahesh Rangarajan, fellow at the Nehru
Memorial Museum and Library, Delhi, we have at least two role models for
eco-conservation. Ashoka's empire provides the first.
Another is symbolised by a traditional bird sanctuary,
Vedanthangal, near Chermai. Killing nesting water birds in
the sanctuary was taboo. This is just one example of
indigenous conservation practice. Conservation has been
supported by customs and religious beliefs in India for ages.
It is ultimately people who exercise the option of conserving
resources.
The task of the ecological historian today is to study,
evaluate and analyse such practices and their relevance. As
noted historian Kapila Vatsyayan said in her address at the
conference, what is known today is only a fraction of the know-
ledge available. India has scores of volumes of unread scripts.
The environmental historian has to make that knowledge
available and place it in the present context. Perhaps there is a
pattern to history. After 50 years of 'planned failure' in rural
development, self-organisation of the people is reaping rewards,
as in the well-known Sukhomajri village in Haryana, where
villagers have regenerated their forests. People have been striving to take control. Perhaps one has go to the people to find the
right answers.
We are a voice to you; you have been a support to us. Together we build journalism that is independent, credible and fearless. You can further help us by making a donation. This will mean a lot for our ability to bring you news, perspectives and analysis from the ground so that we can make change together.