Thursday, 25 May 2017

TRUCKED! MINING DUST AND PROTEST IN GOA

With the Sadhana Multipurpose Cooperative Society (SMCS) being allowed a legal existence as a cooperative society, the debate on how Goa should deal with its mineral resources is moving forward in a direction that holds much promise. The initiative of the setting up of the cooperative was led by the villagers of Caurem, particularly by Ravindra Velip. The villagers of Caurem had to fight for almost three years before the authorities agreed to recognize Sadhana as a cooperative society. That Sadhana was made to wait for so long is not surprising considering that their objectives is to enter the mining business whereby they will operate leases, extract ore, transport the extracted ore, sell and export it, cutting across the interests of giant corporates. This three year period, therefore, was not one of idle wait for the villagers of Caurem, but one marked by numerous protests as well as attacks on the villagers.

One of such protests had led to the arrest of some villagers in Caurem, including an assault on them while in jail. RavindraVelip was then the panch of Caurem. A new graphic novel, released online for free circulation about a month ago, uses the assault on Velip and his comrades as a backdrop to reflect on the struggles of people against the destruction of lives and ecology. Trucked! is a joint effort by Favita Dias, a lecturer in sociology, and the illustrator Anjora Noronha. The title of the graphic novel draws from the image of a thousand trucks that transported iron ore from the mines of Caurem to the docks in Sanvordem.  The graphic novel is about Dias’ personal experience of attending a protest meet and standing in solidarity with the villagers of Caurem.

Dias recounts her experience of negotiating her way to Caurem, where the trucks are lined bumper-to-bumper. “Follow the trucks,” Dias is told, when she asked for directions to Caurem; the empty ones, of course. Trucked! in this sense not only serves as a metaphor for negotiating the bumper-to-bumper traffic on the road from Caurem to Sanvordem, but also helps to bring attention to the most visible aspect of mining: the trucks that transport the ore.In fact those who live in the mining areas and on the route through which the ore is transported would largely agree with Dias’ characterization of the trucks as “monsters”. These vehicles speed down the roads, kicking a storm of dust and mowing down whatever comes in their path – even other human beings.

The graphic aesthetic also tries to capture the problems that rampant mining has brought about. The colour red – the colour of the Goan soil and of large-scale mining as well – jumps out of the pages. The powdery texture that the illustrator has managed to produce gives us an impression that it is actually the mining dust that is on the pages of the graphic novel. Much of the internal reflection or the inner thoughts and past memories of the author are depicted using shades of gray. This alternates between the red, dusty-texture of scenes involving iron ore. Thus, the graphic novel offers us a stark contrast between two worlds: the internal world whereby one tends to reflect deeply about finding solutions to problems; and the external world that witnesses a senseless and unabated destruction of lives and ecology.

It is important to recognize how this interiority or internal reflections can help in thinking about the problems related to mining, or for that matter any other problem that confronts Goa. Dias offers a reflection on where an individual should place herself in the larger scheme of things; how one can relate to the struggles of others. It is also about keeping faith, and gaining hope and strength from the battles waged by others, that ultimately would bring about positive changes in our own lives. Dias reflects on the manner in which the villagers of Caurem were waging their protest and resisting the assault of mining corporations and how Ravindra Velip, calm and composed, was handling all sorts of allegations against him in the fight for justice. Trucked! teaches us a way to think and feel about the problems and protests that we are witness to.

In fact, this ability to express the internal condition of the mind to a problem widespread in society was also seen when Dias wrote an essay on her personal experiences in encountering casteism; her coming to terms with her identity as a woman from the Gauda community (published in O Heraldo, 24 January 2016). The personal and emotional conflicts that one goes through and how one can think of these conflicts and pressures in a wider social universe is the way in which Dias structures her work.

It is also essential to recognize the importance of various types or modes of representations that discuss problems faced by the society. Thus, our resistance to the problems becomes stronger if, along with newspaper reports, op-eds and books, we also have other forms of representation like tiatr, songs, and graphic novels such as Trucked! Such efforts would go a long way to build a corpus of texts that record history of Goa’s struggles against destructive so-called development.

(First published in O Heraldo, dt: 24 May, 2017)

Tuesday, 9 May 2017

NATIONAL INTERESTS AND LOCAL INTERESTS



Goa Forward’s (GF) recent views on the expansion of coal handling at the Mormugao Port Trust (MPT) should be evaluated with the party’s rhetoric of being a ‘regional party’. Surprising, some might say, that a party that stood for Goemkarponn is at odds with those who are desperately working to save Goa’s ecology. If regional interests or Goemkarponn are to be secured for the benefit of the local people, can national interests be served at the same time? Though the backlash to the statements led to a retraction as far as coal handling is concerned, nonetheless GF’s recent statements and their compromises on the issue of nationalization of rivers should make us to introspect and interrogate how national and regional interests operate.

Apart from the fact that national interests have a flip side of making those who do not conform to these interests as ‘anti-nationals’, terms like national interest are a curious way through which protests are muzzled, especially those against the draconian policies of the state. Often policies and projects carried out for the express purpose of securing national interest benefit multinational corporations. National interest further benefit persons of dominant caste and class groups or those who enjoy the power given unto them by the state and the media, while the land and resources of the poor and bahujan groups are appropriated wholesale.

Large-scale projects are not the only way to observe the operation of national interests against regional ones. In a curious way, we can see it operating in Goa’s language politics as well. By making Nagri-scripted Konkani as one of the official languages of Goa, a certain nationalist politics was put into play. The Roman-scripted Konkani and those who demanded that it too be recognized as official were left out. Within this nationalist politics it was not possible to recognize the Roman script because the Roman script is allegedly foreign. Anything foreign is not Indian, and therefore would not serve any national interests. Portuguese-inflected or -derived words in Konkani had to be purged in favor of Sanskrit-derived vocabulary to make Konkani more Indian and more national.

Linked to the politics of the Konkani language and its official script is the Medium of Instruction (MoI) issue. The demand for English, so the argument went, was anti-thetical to Indian culture. Forcing children to study only in “regional languages”, some believe, would instill national pride in the children of Goa. Vile propaganda suggested that the MoI in English was a conspiracy to serve ‘Catholic interests’. It is, however, a different matter that those who are demanding English as MoI are fed-up of the parochial language politics in Goa, and see no future in the manner in which ‘regional languages’ are forced onto the Goan public, more especially, on the poorer and bahujan sections who cannot afford private English education. The bottom line is that through a narrow and parochial politics, Goa’s elite classes are serving national interests that do not see any merits in including all forms of cultures and linguistic expressions. In fact one is expected to give up on certain practices if they do not conform to the national standard.

During the press conference which received a huge backlash, GF’s spokesperson Prashant Naik also made a sarcastic comment, arguing that if there is an opposition to all development projects then all Goans will have to “make the passport” and leave. Notwithstanding the blatant illegalities of such development projects as well as the manner in which such projects rob the people of Goa of their land and water, Naik’s seemingly off-the-cuff statement reveals a deep-seated bias. Those who opt for a Portuguese passport in order to have access to better employment opportunities, and in many ways to escape the increasingly vitiated and stifling political atmosphere in Goa, are seen as betraying the nation. They are viewed as having no loyalty to the nation. By suggesting that there is a link between those who opt for Portuguese citizenship and those who oppose mega-projects, Naik’s statement precisely draws from a ‘nationalist’ discourse that has no regard for the problems and difficulties of the people that drive migration.

Goa’s recent history is witness to several protests that opposed the large-scale takeover by the central governmental agencies and multinational corporations. At least from the 1980s there have been protests against such polluting industries like the Zuari Agro Chemicals, Nylon 6,6, Du Pont, Meta-Strips, the agitation against the Konkan Railway, as well as the agitation against the setting up of the Special Economic Zone, or the agitation led by the Ramponnkars, the traditional fishermen to safeguard the interests of people in traditional occupations. The agitation against evictions in Baina (in the garb of ‘cleaning’ the beaches of prostitution and migrants) amongst several others should also be remembered while the issue of MPT’s expansion is discussed. What this suggests is that in its recent history Goa has witnessed spirited opposition against a form of ‘development’ that is a direct assault on the lives of people.

Claims of national interest should be examined if they secure or deny rights to people, whether these rights are legal, cultural, environmental or in any other sphere. The discussion of Goemkarponn, local interests, and national interests should focus on the struggles in Goa’s recent history that has somewhat restricted the march of developmental projects. This and other instances such as the MoI issue wherein a large section of the people of Goa mobilized to fulfill certain demands tell us that the people of Goa have put local interests above so-called national ones. This is an important lesson to remember.

(First published in O Heraldo, dt: 10 May, 2017)

Tuesday, 25 April 2017

COW POLITICS AND SLAVERY



The recent comments by members of the Sangh Parivar on the complete ban on the consumption of beef in Goa have ignited a controversy. The comments, casteist as they are, have shifted the attention of the Goan people away from pressing issues like the future of casinos, the Mopa airport, the crises in the mining sector, environmental pollution, and everyday governance. That such comments divert our attention elsewhere is unfortunate; but every time such comments are made we should remind ourselves what exactly lies at the heart of such hate politics.

The online Ambedkarite portal, Round Table India, has been publishing articles critically analyzing the economics and politics of ‘beef ban’, especially since the ban enforced by Maharashtra from 2015. It is with the help of these and some other news reports that I wish to make the case that, through ‘beef bans’ and cow politics, the poor and minoritized population is being pushed further into the depths of poverty and caste, eventually making them live in conditions akin to slavery.

Following the ban in Maharashtra by the Devendra Fadnavis-led government, Arvind Kumar argued that the move had all the makings of a “social conspiracy” against the dalit-bahujans in India, especially in Maharashtra. “I see the beginnings,” he says, “of a reversal of ‘social change’”. Kumar argues that if non-productive cattle – whether used for dairy products or as draught animals – are not slaughtered then they will have to be disposed by someone after they die. Who will do this dirty work? He says that it is those who come from the ‘untouchable’ castes who will either be forced or lured into occupations such as disposing and skinning dead cattle and further “get trapped in the evil practice of untouchability”.

Kumar seems to have rightly perceived the diabolic game plan behind the ban on cow slaughter in Maharastra as the NGO that worked to make the ban a reality has similar plans. In an interview to Scroll.in, Rajendra Joshi, a trustee of the Viniyog Parivar Trust, said, “Cattle will now die their natural deaths scattered across the state, and it will help revive the traditional vocations of chamars and mochis [tanners and cobblers] across the state”. In making such a statement, Joshi admits that people are moving away from occupations such as tanning and hence such occupations need to be “revive[d]”. Obviously, people would not volunteer to perform such demeaning traditional occupations, hence the coercion of the state is seen as so necessary.

This emphasis on bringing back the ‘traditional’ precisely confirms what Kumar had suspected all along: undo social mobility and reorder labor relations. The idea ultimately is to return to a casteist way of life and production relations that perpetuates practices of untouchability. Talking in terms of untouchability does not mean that the issue is solely about religion, rituals, or belief; it is also fundamentally an economic issue as those who provide labor in a caste society – including those who work in agriculture and clear/skin dead cattle – come from the lower strata of society.

Studies have shown that if non-productive cattle are not culled – that is livestock rearing is not done in a scientific and economically rational manner – then the population of cattle begins to shrink. In other words, slaughter is essential if the agricultural and dairy production is to be maintained at an economically viable level. Farmers, being unable to dispose of such cattle, have to bear the burden of sustaining non-productive animals. Selling non-productive cattle (whether cows or bulls) for slaughter (with the resultant production of food, leather, and other important goods) sustains an agrarian economy dependent on bovine animals. The butcher is an integral part of this economy. In fact we can observe that a ban on cow slaughter economically burdens farmers, dairy farmers, butchers, and meat traders. However, the only ones who are laughing all the way to the bank are the beef exporters – many of them upper caste Hindus – who seem to be increasing the quantum of exports despite this hate politics.

Seen from the perspective of the ill-effects that a ‘beef ban’ and anti-cow slaughter laws have on the society and the economy, it is imperative that secular forces and those keen to maintain Goan traditions call for nothing less than a complete revocation of these ‘cow protection’ laws, including the one that the MGP government brought into force in Goa in the 1970s. It is also a litmus test to the votaries of secularism and Goemkarponn if they will push for the revocation or change of laws antithetical to the lives and livelihoods of Goans.

In Goa too, one can observe that it has become increasingly difficult for people to maintain cattle. It is simply not economically viable, and over a period of time so many people have stopped rearing cattle. Add to this, one sees a large number of cows scavenging from dustbins and other areas. The oppressive ‘cow protection’ laws – circumscribed by a upper caste Hindu morality – has made it difficult for people to maintain cows and the bovine population to sustain itself.

Thus, the issue is not simply about people being unable to eat beef (that is, without being lynched or killed for it). While it is true that ‘beef bans’ pose a threat to a loosely defined ethos of ‘secularism’, the issue is much deeper in which the laboring poor are trapped within the oppressive structures of caste, poverty, and tradition. It is a form of slavery that is perpetuated by the law and a casteist morality which is undoing the social mobility achieved through the struggles of various groups. While forcing labor relations based on caste hierarchies, such ‘beef bans’ also deny ‘minorities’ like Christians and Muslims (of all castes and classes) the choice of food and cultural practices ostensibly because it offends upper caste Hindu sensibilities.

(First published in O Heraldo, dt: 26 April, 2017)

Tuesday, 11 April 2017

COAL AND A BIT OF COLONIALISM



The decision by the state and central governments to expand the coal handling capacity of the Mormugao port is cause for alarm. From very real and obvious dangers of environment and health to the equally real threat to the livelihoods of traditional fishermen, the government seems least bothered about the citizens. On the contrary they are making haste to promote the interests of the big corporations. Indeed, plans to build the National Highway 17-B and the dredging of the Mormugao port are geared to facilitate the transport of large volumes of coal to industries in neighboring Karnataka.

According to news reports, the plans to dredge the port and build a new highway will benefit Indian companies like Adani, JSW, and Vedanta. Nihar Gokhale, a journalist who reports on environmental and policy issues, wrote some time back that clearances for the Mormugao expansion flagrantly violated rules and due procedure. If the plans materialize as per the wishes of the corporations and the government, Mormugao’s coal handling will rise to 26 million tonnes per annum from the current five million tonnes; the port town of Vasco and surrounding areas, therefore, are poised to choke on coal dust.

That the government is riding roughshod over the lives and livelihoods of the people is not surprising. In Goa, we have the instance of the Investment Promotion Board that circumvents all checks and balances to bring in the ‘mega-project development’. Case in point was the sale of a village in Tiracol to construct a golf course for the rich, while the villagers engaged in traditional occupations were manhandled to vacate the land. Through the partnership of corporations and government we see a process of ‘colonization’ wherein local resources are senselessly extracted or destroyed while the local people either get peanuts in return or nothing at all.

Thinking of large-scale processes of development as ‘process of colonialism’ – wherein shifts in political power does not necessarily alter oppressive relations – allows us to see that the nation-state of today operates in similar ways as the colonial-state of the past. As many scholars have pointed out, the neo-liberal development shares a link with past colonialism and imperialism in places likes Asia and Africa in the manner in which it extracts resources and mounts wars against indigenous peoples.There is, however, a difference between the neo-liberal development of today and the colonial development of the past, chiefly in terms of the volume of resources extracted or exploited. Activists and lay citizens need to consider this history in order to mount strong resistance against the destructions of lives and livelihoods.

Mormugao port provides us an excellent opportunity to reflect on such processes and their long history. The port, in fact, can be considered to be at the centre of colonial and neo-liberal development. There is the curious case of British India investing in the construction of the West of India Portuguese Guaranteed Railway (WIP) that had linked Mormugao to the Southern Mahratta Railway (SMR) at Londa, via Castle Rock towards the end of the nineteenth century. Looking for a cheaper and convenient point for exporting the products from the hinterlands of British India, the British Raj entered into a treaty – the Anglo-Portuguese Treaty of 1878 – with Portuguese India. The cost of building the railway line, in true colonial fashion, was borne by the Goan exchequer.

The Portuguese were looking for investments that would revitalize the weakened economic situation, create jobs, and boost the almost non-existent industry in Goa. The Portuguese government hoped that collaboration with the economically and politically powerful British empire would modernize Portuguese India. That it did not work was due to many factors and there is no space here to elaborate why these plans failed. However, what needs to be highlighted is that many in Goa at that time felt that the Portuguese had effectively given the control of the economy into British hands. The British too wanted political and economic control over Portuguese India. They did achieve this goal to a certain extent with the control of the port and railways, and taxes on the production of salt, amongst other things.

In a sense, the developmental politics around Mormugao port in contemporary times follows this old pattern; of massive investments coming with a promise of jobs and growth of the economy. It also necessitates the investment of public money without substantial returns to the same public. Whereas in the past the flow of goods was from the hinterlands of India to other places of the world, in the present times the government-corporate nexus wants to use Mormugao as a importing and exporting node for goods (like coal and iron ore) to feed the industries in various parts of the country and abroad. The case is curious not just because of the reverse flow of goods, but also because Indian companies are extracting natural resources like coal from distant Australia (and also in places like Mozambique in Africa) and transporting it in India. Many in Australia, including indigenous leaders, and cricketers like Ian and Greg Chappell, have supported campaigns against Indian companies like Adani to halt coal extraction. These Australian activists have argued that the  proposed mine in Carmichael, Australia – said to be the largest in the world which can produce 60 million tonnes of coal every year for the next 60 years – would threaten not just  the indigenous communities there but also the eco-sensitive Great Barrier Reef.

From facts available on the ground, this present neo-liberal expansion – following roughly patterns of past colonial interventions in the economy and politics – appears eventually to benefit only giant corporations. Colonial relations thrive amidst us, destroying the environment and the lives of people. And it is not just the white men who are propagating such exploitative business practices.

(First published in O Heraldo, dt: 12 April, 2017)