Thursday 3 August 2017

The Forest of Exile



Nandini Sundar (2016). The Burning Forest: India’s War in Bastar, Juggernaut, pp. 413

In the mythical landscape of India described in the epic Ramayana, Dandakaranya or the Dandaka forests, is a land of exile for the protagonist Ram. It is here that he sheds his identity and the privileges that come with it, faces his own demons, fights and overcomes covert and overt enemies and makes decisions in the face of ethical dilemmas. Bastar, the contemporary counterpart of Dandakaranya, in the southern part of Chhattisgarh in central India, has been posing a new kind of dilemma to the social and political fabric of our protagonist, the modern Indian State. In these forested hills for more than three decades, Maoists have almost run a parallel state, distributing land, settling disputes and entering into contractual relations with its inhabitants. It is here that the Indian state fights its counter insurgency operations against the Maoists and with it the poorest inhabitants, whose citizenship have been devoid of rights and distributive justice, reduced to a ‘law and order problem’. In all these dramatic accounts of a war and counter war, the average Indian in the forested hills is at best obscure- this book digs her out of the crossfires of conflict and evocatively tells her story.

This important book comes out of over three decades of research in the Bastar region in India by renowned anthropologist and Infosys Prize winner, Nandini Sundar. The author dvelves into her extensive field experience, and from the vantage point of an academic and intimate outsider, lays bare the nuances and contradictions of the raging war in Bastar. The book is divided into three parts. In the first part called ‘The Landscape of Resistance’, Sundar locates the struggle in the social and political exploitation of the adivasis. In the second part called ‘Civil War’, various forms of insurgencies and counter measures from the state is analysed, to bring out the severity of the vortex of violence in which Bastar is steeped in. In the last part called ‘Institutions on Trial’, the reaction of various actors including politicians, human rights organisations, media and judiciary are brought out. Sundar argues that there are only a few opponents to this war in the forests of Bastar and fewer institutional and structural checks and balances from the state to excesses against its own citizens. It is because of this failure of state in the face of corporate or political greed and against its own citizens that the ‘violence, even against injustice, degenerates into brutality and corruption’.


This book is about a war by India’s poorest to reclaim land and property, a battle to co-opt traditional power struggle in an ideological insurgency and the state’s last attempt to hold its bastion of political authority. It speaks from the viewpoint of an average Adivasi and her need to keep the Maoist and the Indian state in and out in carefully measured political spaces. It directly pits the conundrum of the citizen to choose between security or development, state or protectorate vigilantes, food or land, road or jungle. It exposes the discourse that uses development as a weapon to get consent of people, security as threat to land and livelihood and elections as battle ground.  It speaks of the propaganda wars of a significant part of media and the response of judiciary, both guardians of democracy, in the three decades of unceasing internal violence. It also unflinchingly admits the limits of cause celebre campaigns and civil society movements because of the difficulty in articulating the position of the average citizen on whose behalf political action is demanded. This is a deeply researched portrait of struggle for citizenship and raises important questions for Indian democracy based on field research, court testimonies, government documents, media reportage and field participation.