SOCIAL WORK AND RESEARCH CENTRE, TILONIA

When Sankar Datta told us about the genesis of voluntary organisations in India in his course at IRMA, he would reel off names of people and institutions, pioneers who had influenced the course of development action in the country. We learnt of Bunker Roy and SWRC then. In the years since we left IRMA, we continued hearing about SWRC and the Barefoot College, about Bunker and his disdain for ‘professionals’. We would have liked to engage in a debate with him over this, but unfortunately he was not around when we visited. We had interesting discussions though with Vasu – a contemporary of Bunker, who helped us understand to some extent SWRC and its motivations.

Demystifying technologies
We met ‘Professors’ of the Barefoot College, both men and women from the local area, training a team of 32 men and women from Ethiopia, in all that there is to know about solar home-lighting systems. What struck us in this was that the trainers and the trainees had no common language between them. In fact the Ethiopians spoke four different languages and many among them did not understand each other. Only two among the team from Ethiopia and three of the eight trainers had a functional knowledge of English. Four charts in the room listed translations of all the essential terms required for survival (water, food, bread, dal, etc), and for the technology (green, black, red, white, circuit, plug, etc). Yet there were situations in the beginning, we were told, where unable to understand what was being said, the Ethiopians construed laughter and conversations among the trainers as ‘being made fun of’. Five months into the training and with a month to go, the trainees greeted everyone with cheery smiles, and spoke snatches of Hindi – ‘namaste, kaise ho?’ was a common greeting we heard when we passed them.

The trainees will take back with them lanterns and home lighting systems, which they fabricate as they learn. They will also take back with them skills which will help them set up their own solar systems workshops and become trainers, back home in Ethiopia. Two trainers from Tilonia will accompany them to help them set up their workshops. One trainer is in Afghanistan currently, following up on a previous training programme for people from there, we were informed. If Barefoot College considers itself a ‘national organisation’, it could well be on its way to becoming an ‘international organisation’.

A lot of SWRC’s work is visible in its campus itself. The ‘old campus’ houses most departments of the Barefoot College, while the ‘new campus’ has offices and residences. The new campus is provided continuous power supply by a 40-KW solar photovoltaic power system. Five battery banks, of varying capacity, connected to panels installed on top of the buildings and controlled by invertors, constitute the system. While there are no recurring costs, battery replacement once in five or six years costs close to Rs.25 lakhs. The systems run efficiently, operated and managed by the barefoot engineers.

Crafting livelihoods
The handicrafts, weaving and tailoring units which create garments, furnishings and crafts sold under the ‘Tilonia’ brand are among the major income generating activities promoted by SWRC. More than 600 women are involved in activities like appliqué, stitching of garments and household items out of cotton cloth. The weaving section provides most of the input for this (natural dyed cotton fabric). Masterji, who coordinates the weaving section, is a traditional handloom weaver from a village near Tilonia. With obvious pride he showed us the range of hues that the weaving section produced using vegetable dyes. The market unfortunately was not well developed, rendering the activity unviable. Kailashkuwar who coordinates the stitching section and the lady coordinating appliqué work also come from villages in the vicinity of Tilonia. What we found remarkable was their articulation of and understanding about the crafts market. In a trade where even management and design graduates find it difficult to run a viable business, these women are managing a fairly successful brand. We found that the products on sale at the craft shop on campus were quite reasonably priced. We were told that the craft activity was a self-supporting one, with no subsidy provided from other sources. It is then, a real business management case that IIM’s or IRMA could draw upon, if SWRC will allow them.

We also saw a number of activities like carving wooden toys and educational materials, screen printing, book binding and what SWRC calls kabad-jugad, making small craft materials from wastes. 5-10 people are trained in each of these activities every year and further support provided to them to set up their own production units. Some of these activities like kabad-jugad are of recent origin.

Services for health
SWRC’s work in the area of health includes a 10-bed hospital on its ‘new campus’. Originally a TB Sanatorium, it now provides herbal, homeopathic and allopathic care to villagers in the area. The hospital also organises regular camps in mental health, family planning, homeopathy treatment and ante and post natal care. Other health related activities are training of village health workers and traditional birth attendants. A pathological laboratory attached to the hospital also provides services to the villagers. There are ‘barefoot nurses in the hospital, fortunately no ‘barefoot’ doctors. The 80-year old doctor who runs the hospital is probably the only person in SWRC who is not ‘barefoot’.

Igniting minds through education
As part of the education programme, SWRC runs night-schools for child labourers in over 100 village hamlets. Shivram, struck by polio waist downwards, has been with the education unit for over eight years. The curriculum, he explained, was developed by the facilitators, drawn from the villages where they worked. The schools were intended to prepare children to standard five, at which stage they are assisted to join the mainstream, by enrolling in government schools.

While almost two-thirds of those enrolled (a total of over 3,000) in the night-schools are girls, Shivram shared that continuing education for girl children was difficult, because of access conditions and social taboos. An innovative aspect of the education programme is the ‘Bal Sansad’ or children’s parliament, which has won prestigious international awards. The Prime Minister’s post is reserved for girls, which apparently drove a young boy to tears, protesting that he would make a better candidate. He was made Speaker of the Parliament. The parliament is set up with the intent to involve children in functioning of the schools, and gradually expands their involvement and influence over other facets of development in their village.

The SWRC campus also houses a library open to public. The library proudly displays all the awards and recognition that SWRC and Bunker Roy have received over the years.

Protected and assured water
SWRC’ early work involved drilling tube wells and repair of hand pumps for drinking water. Nodarmal who accompanied us was very proud of the fact that Bunker Roy himself used to drive the drilling rig around to the villages. SWRC also trained women to install and repair tube-wells. Initially shunned, they are now accepted and invited by the government and villagers as tube-well experts! Water quality of the tube wells is regularly monitored by youth trained at the laboratory in the new campus. SWRC keeps a regular tab of the water quality testing activity by the ‘Barefoot Chemists’.

From digging tube wells SWRC moved its focus to harvesting rain water. Quite appropriate, given, as we were told, that water table in the villages of Ajmer had fallen by more than 15 metres in the years between 1985 and 1995. Currently one of the big projects implemented by SWRC is a rooftop rainwater harvesting system for schools. Meant to meet the drinking water needs of school children (availability of which, SWRC says, is a factor governing attendance in schools). This is part of a large project that Ministry of Water Resources, Government of India has approved – the pilot phase of which covers 300 schools in all of India. SWRC is doing some 25 projects in its area of operation.

Ramkarn who coordinates this activity (together with the women’s development programme) has been involved with SWRC since he was twelve years old. He shared with us the system SWRC has developed to ensure complete transparency in implementing of the Schools rainwater harvesting project. A committee consisting of parents and teachers is set up and this committee does the construction work. Money is transferred to a bank account operated by this committee. Each school has a file to itself, which contains all the records of work. These include capacity estimation and design calculations, muster roll of labour employed, bills of material purchase, and photographs (taken from the same angle) of the site before work, during work and after completion. Upon completion of work a social audit is conducted where the committee explains every aspect of work done to the villagers assembled. Only after this meeting approves of the work done, does SWRC accept accounts for money spent. Ramkarn says that this kind of social audit has motivated villagers to demand the same level of transparency in works done by the Gram Panchayat. He also narrated several incidents where villagers forced the Sarpanch and Panchayat Secretary to stop work that was being done in violation of norms prescribed. Ramkarn contends that the Right to Information law in Rajasthan has enabled people in demanding information from these functionaries. He adds that mere legislation is not much use unless people know how to use it, and develop collective capacities and confidence to demand their rights.

Spaces for women
SWRC mobilises women in villages to organise themselves into ‘mahila samuh’. Ramkarn was quick to add that these are not conventional SHGs. In fact, there is no thrift or credit involved at all. Work on organising women began when SWRC motivated an agitation by women labourers engaged by government contractors, for equal wages for women and legal minimum wages for all, in the early-1980s. The focus is on women from ‘landless and other marginalised families’ in the villages. During our visit to Tikavda village we found that only 20 women from a village of about 400 families were involved in the women’s group. Chotibai, the coordinator of the field centre, said that the other families are involved with SWRC’s work in other activities.

Reaching out
Apart from the campus at Tilonia SWRC has field centres in six locations of Ajmer district that cater to 20-40 villages each. The outreach of SWRC to villages is aided in a very substantial way, by its rural communications division. This division specialises in performances in the villages – street plays, puppet shows etc. – using these media to convey socially relevant messages. We were given an extempore performance of a puppet named ‘Jokhim chacha’, a wizened old man who dares to question the villagers about anything and everything. His quips are then used to generate discussions among those assembled. SWRC philosophy is also rooted in about 20 centres across the country, led by local NGOs, bound in a loose network.

Some thoughts
SWRC has made a virtue out of a disadvantage. Using people’s lack of formal education to motivate them to acquire new skills – productive and managerial, it has charted out a new paradigm of development action. The work of ‘ordinary’ men and women that we saw in different spheres was remarkable. In articulating their understanding of the development context and work and convincing ‘educated’ outsiders about the validity and effectiveness of the ‘barefoot’ approach, they are second to none.

This said, what also struck us was the disdain for the formally educated and the so-called professionals. One wonders if such forced exclusion of this category of people is necessary to promote the ‘barefoot’ paradigm. Is it that everyone in this category lives in glass palaces with little understanding of or empathy for the rural poor? It cannot be forgotten that the conceivers of the paradigm, themselves came from such backgrounds, and they continue to provide the leadership to the ‘barefoot’ workers.

SWRC offers a basket of about 20 different activities. In each village a combination from among these is implemented. Each activity has a specific target group – children, women, youth, parents of students – and seemingly work in isolation at the village level. We were unable to sense a village-wide institutional process or efforts in bringing together disparate groups within the village. The Barefoot College has apparent success in instilling skills and confidence among individuals from the weakest sections of society. How are these people then brought together to challenge hierarchies, fight oppression, demand their rights and create a more just and equitable society? How widespread effects are realised through ‘exclusive’ focus, we were unable to understand in entirety, in the brief time we spent there.

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TARUN BHARAT SANGH, ALWAR

Sometime in the early 80s, four angst ridden young men took a bus from Jaipur, in the direction of Alwar, deciding to get off at the place where the bus terminated. It happened to be Kishori-Bhikampura, off Thanagazi. Illiteracy, they thought, was at the root of poverty, and started teaching children, while at the same time building contacts with sceptical villagers. Then a wise old man told them that their problem, really, was water. The hills around them, clad once with forests and vegetation were bare, and rivers and streams ran dry, exacerbating droughts, compelling people to leave their villages in search for employment, plunging those who stayed back further into poverty.

The youth, with no technical training in ‘water’, were not sure how they could help, but the old man and his contemporaries said they knew how. ‘Johads’ were the answer. The problem was defined by the people, and they knew the solution, but they needed help in mobilising human and financial resources. Thus began the journey of Tarun Bharat Sangh (TBS) in Alwar district, and the rise of their leader, Rajinder Singh, as ‘waterman’. Kanhaiyalal would have narrated this a thousand times, but every time he repeats it, he appears to draw energy from it.

Over the past two decades, TBS, as their reports state, has done near saturation work in the region – working with the object of reviving five rivers, including Arvari (the most famous of them all). Their work is among the few non-government actions which has received wide recognition, including the Magsasay Award for Rajinder Singh, and in an unprecedented event, the President of India flying by helicopter over the ‘revived’ Arvari river, and landing in Hamirpur to give the CSE instituted Joseph C John environment award to the villagers of Bhaonta and Kolyala for their initiatives in bringing the rivers to life. Prince Charles visited later. Having heard and read much (thanks to Down To Earth) about TBS, we decided to visit, to understand the work done.

We were met at TBS by a surprised, but welcoming Murari and Gopalji, who were unaware of our visit. We had spoken to Rajinder Singh the previous week, and he had assured us that if it was just the two of us, and if we were visiting for a couple of days, we could do so anytime. We were not the only visitors at the time, there were a group of students from IIRM, Jaipur. There is constant stream of visitors, shared Murari, borne out by the thick visitors register. We were directed to a room and given some hot food, while Gopalji organised for someone to take us out to the villages.

Starting at the beginning
Chotelal took us first to the twin villages of Bhaonta and Kolyala. Arriving in September, with the region having received some monsoon showers in July, and later while we were there, there was a palpable sense of water everywhere, johads and dams were full and there was a fair amount of greenery, contrasting with the dry desolate landscape which had confronted us on the journey from Jaipur. The IIRM students, led by Kanhaiyalal (a resident of Kolyala and now general secretary of TBS), had reached ahead of us. We climbed to see the series of check dams, right up to the source of the Arvari River – all designed and built by local people. No engineers were involved, they emphasise. The largest structure, near the top, was incrementally built over fifteen years, depending on the availability of resources, and needs identified by the community. There are several johads and wells in the village as well.

The most visible impact, as the villagers shared and as we saw, is the rise of water level in wells in the village. No longer do humans or livestock suffer for want of drinking water even in the driest of summers. The work brought people together as everybody contributed to the construction, and everybody benefited from the water - evidently, some, more than the rest. With rains unpredictable, erratic and inadequate in most years, crops survive where farmers have built wells and installed pumps to lift water. We were told that many of these wells are shared by groups of farmers. Each lifts as much as he needs - there are no set limits. Several farmers today cultivate a rabi crop as well – wheat and vegetables.

We later went to Hamirpur, which is at the lower end of Arvari (and where the President’s helicopter landed). A temple to Goddess Arvari has been built here. We learnt about the Arvari Sansad, a collective of 70 villages around Arvari, where work has been done by TBS to varying degrees. The Sansad was formed, when the reservoir at Hamirpur, built by villagers and TBS was leased out for fishing by the government to outsiders. The outraged villagers came together to obstruct this. Since they were responsible for building the reservoir, they would be the ones to decide its use. The contractors poisoned the fish before they left, but the villagers had won the battle. Fishing never happened there though since the reservoir silted up the following year as the dam above broke in the rains.

The Arvari Sansad has dealt with several other crises since. With 140 members, of which 20 are women, the Sansad meets twice every year to discuss issues related to the river and their lives around it. Judaram, the leader in Hamipur shared, that in the Sansad they discuss cropping practices, the use of chemical fertilisers, proposals for new structures, repairs, etc. He conceded that with pressures of the market, it was not always possible to convince all farmers on what and how they should grow.

TBS supports 66% of the costs for community structures and 33% for private structures. Decisions are made by representatives of the community, mostly men – ‘whoever has the capacity to take decisions on behalf of the family (joint family not each nuclear one)’ – Kanhaiyalal clarifies. ‘Everyone agrees to the decision, and there are no conflicts within the community, since water is a universal need’.

We asked a lot of questions, to a reluctant Chotelal, to a more articulate and suave Kanhaiyalal, and some villagers in Bhaonta-Kolyala and Hamirpur. When we persisted with our questions about conflict resolution, involvement of poorer people, women, etc, Kanhaiyalal said, politely, but with a tinge of fatigue, – “Hamare paas to har tarah ke sawaal aate hain. Ham wohi karte hain jo log chahte hain. Puri paardarshita rakhte hain.”

Another day, another river
The next day we went through some villages which find themselves in the buffer and core zones of the Sariska wildlife sanctuary. Phulchand, Sarpanch of Mandalwas proudly said that theirs was the second village in the region, after Gopalpura, to associate with TBS, and build johads and check dams. Three villages in the Panchayat he represents are in the core area of the Sariska sanctuary, while the other nine are in the buffer area. The families living in the core area cannot cultivate the land, cannot build pucca houses, cannot access electricity (a few homes had solar lighting), cannot build a school (permission for running a centre has recently been given, but a pucca school building cannot be built) – in effect nothing that will make them too comfortable, and will be a cause for larger compensation amounts to be paid, when they are removed from the sanctuary (‘when’ not if’ is a foregone conclusion of the Forest Department). They have all chosen to remain in the core area, “till suitable alternatives are presented”, and rear livestock in the interim. TBS along with the Forest Department has built johads and dams within the sanctuary for animals to drink water.

Later we went to villages along Sarsa river. In Nangaldasa village, at the border of Alwar and Dausa districts, the last dam across the river, and also the largest (110m across), is in the process of being built, under the supervision of Jagdish Sharma, fondly called ‘Panditji’. Living in a shack near the construction site, he recollected the sudden rains and surge in waters, one night in July, and how he escaped to safety. 12 of the 200 odd families in the village, who will benefit by being able to irrigate their lands with the water, participate in the construction, contributing one-third of the costs. Several of these families, are from the nomadic Lambada tribe.

At 5pm, we sat down in Panditji’s shack, to eat the packed rotis and chutney that we had carried for lunch with Panditji and Chotelal. The whole day we had been accosted by villagers who force-fed us in celebrations for Badri Baba. For three to four days of the celebrations, each year, villagers took upon themselves to feed all passers-by. We were apprehensive when we were stopped the first time by youth blocking the road, during which one person would deftly pull out the keys to the jeep, which would be returned only after we had eaten. They expected nothing from us, except to eat to our stomach’s content. Which we did in the first village we stopped at, but which turned into a symbolic action as we went along. This is a recent phenomenon, most villagers shared. It was either a new found appreciation for Badri Baba, or more evidence of RSS propaganda, which appears quite active in the region. During the festivities, devotees walk long distances to Badri Bab’s shrine and the journey is completed at a temple for a local sati. The visits to the sati mata temple continue despite the government ban.

Grooming ‘water warriors’
The latest intervention from TBS is the Tarun Jal Vidyapeeth (Water School) that currently offers a two-year course in watershed development. The first batch of 20 students started their course in July 2005. The purpose is to train a new generation of ‘water warriors’, with good technical grounding as well as sensitivity to work with rural communities. Gopalji, who leads the School, is very insistent that his students learn it the hard way. The course is very practical-oriented and we found students spending bulk of their time in the field. Starting early, delayed lunches etc. are methods used by Gopalji to drive home the message that it is not easy to work in the villages. The day we arrived at TBS he had specifically instructed the kitchen staff to prepare very spicy red chilli-garlic chutney since that would be what students would get to eat when they have to stay in the villages for long. A young woman from West Bengal unable to stand the heat of the sun and the spice of the chutney together had a fainting spell and was revived by a refreshing glass of rabri (curd and dalia paste mix that is standard early morning meal in those parts).

Reaching out
Working with about 25 full time staff and several volunteers and local organisations in the villages, TBS has supported construction of over 7,000 structures in over 1,000 villages. While bulk of the work is in Alwar district around the Thanagazi area, work has also spread to Jaipur, Jodhpur and several others districts of Rajasthan.

TBS’ work has been supported to a great extent by international donor agencies. Kanhaiyalal explained that it was difficult to work with the government on watershed projects, with corruption rife, and the absence of flexibility or long term commitments. Past experiences of working with the government had not been good, though some work was done, particularly the forest department in the Sariska area. TBS’ approach has been one of incremental development of structures along river basins, an approach not conducive to typical short term funding cycles.

Some thoughts
The dams, johads, wells that TBS has helped to develop are an apparent success. That these structures are built with local knowledge and wisdom supported by barefoot ‘engineers’ is significant in itself. Comparing investments to the scale of work, TBS can well claim to have some of the lowest overhead costs.

We were also told that a number of structures were damaged, particularly when rainfall was very heavy. In Hamirpur the reservoir of the large anicut was completely silted as a government built anicut upstream was breached in one heavy shower. Chotelal estimated that about 400 of the 7-8000 structures built by TBS would have had suffered damages at one time or the other. TBS has undertaken repair of damaged structures, we were told. Would TBS be responsible for repairs for all time to come?

Seemingly the greatest beneficiaries of augmentation of water sources are enterprising farmers, who have dug wells and installed pumps. How are different sections of the communities involved in the decision making process, and how are decisions taken on undertaking private or community works? Is the opinion of one person representing a joint family, usually a man, adequately representative of the community’s wisdom and needs?

There is little evidence of the interventions triggering larger process of social transformation, that TBS’ mission statement talks about. We repeatedly asked about the how the work on water in these villages considered or affected the dynamics of caste relations in the village. The standard response was “water is everyone’s need, so all social problems sort themselves out when work on water is to be done”. What seemed especially missing was the involvement of women in decision making spaces.

TBS claims that it has done saturation work in Alwar district, a claim borne out partially by all the water retention structures on the ground. We were, however, unable to get a sense of the realisation of what TBS sets out in its mission, vis-à-vis its claims of saturation. The mission statement, as painted on the wall outside its office in Bhikampura, covers more terrain than just water. Self-reliant village institutions acting as agents of social change, role of youth in social transformation and gender issues are captured in the mission statement. Despite our questions regarding this, TBS personnel whom we met had little to offer as responses. At the end of two days of visiting villages, the physical structures left a lasting impression, as Pragya a student of IIRM who had come with us said “abhi to mujhe sapne mein bhi anicut dikhenge”.

More Pragyas and students like her, development workers wanting to learn will continue to visit TBS in the days to come. TBS owes it to the society to help them understand the whole story; the success as well as failure; the conflicts that arose and how they were resolved; the challenges that persist, to make meaningful contributions in moulding ‘water warriors’.

What we also found remarkable was the strong feelings that TBS and Rajinder Singh seem to evoke, particularly among NGO leaders in Rajasthan. There were quite a few people who said, “Go and see for yourself what is going on”. When asked Gopalji about such strong reactions about TBS, he said he was not aware of it. “There are people who speak against us because we use foreign funds to do our work and many people think it is not good”.

What took the cake was what we heard in Udaipur, a week after our visit. “400 tankers of water were filled in some dams and johads to show how effectively they worked, before some high-profile visit.” We really do not know the truth. But from what we saw, wells have water in the month of September, all men and women we met in the villages said that these wells also had water in the month of April.

The kind of profile that TBS’ work has, it is bound to attract sceptical scrutiny, particularly when TBS itself has not refrained from making claims of instilling self governance and bringing about community empowerment in a short span of time through elementary interventions in water. What continues to feed the scepticism outside is TBS’ seeming reluctance or inability to articulate challenges in the mobilisation of communities and the limitations of their actions.

Experiences of people and organisations doing community mobilisation and motivation work show that there are a range of complexities, challenges and conflicts that arise in course of the work, especially in contested domains of water and land, resources which are scarce.

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KHAT ANDOLAN, ACHALPUR

What does it take to sit on a cot or a “khat” as it is known in Rajasthan? Apparently a lot, if you belong to the wrong caste. In Achalpura village near the small town of Bhadesar in Chittaurgarh district, a dalit boy dared to sit on a khat belonging to a Rajput. All hell broke loose, the boy was beaten up. Many organisations working in the area took up the cudgels in favour of the boy and organised a Khat Andolan in the village on September 15, 2005.

The clarion call for the meeting was the slogan – “aazadi hai saath par, chale baithe khat par” (Been free for sixty years, let us now sit on a cot). About a hundred cots were brought in from several villages, more than five hundred dalits from the area congregated along with a number of social activists from across Rajasthan. The dalits sat on the cots, in full public view and many men and women from amongst them spoke about experiences of humiliation they had to suffer at different times from the so-called upper castes. There was a lot of slogan shouting, singing and laughing at the expense of their exploiters.

Initially, the speakers were very circumspect. One woman even asked what the need was to sit on cots. She immediately got her reply from another woman in the crowd. Promptly, she was brought to the mike and her two-minute speech helped change the flow of thoughts. After her, several men and women started narrating their own experiences, of the tyranny of the so-called upper castes, of the humiliation they have had to suffer.

In one case, this young man named Ramalal visited a village on some work there. He sat at the chabutara in the centre of the village dominated by the jat caste. He was then asked about his caste. Fearing that if he told the truth (of belonging to the chamar caste) there would be trouble he used the name of another caste better than his own. Unfortunately for him, the jat youth did not want to share the platform with anyone beneath them, dalit or not. He says he left the place without complicating matters. More misfortune was in store for him. Back in his village, people of the barawa caste, whose name he had used, came to know about him claiming to be one of them. All hell broke loose and a squad of goons was set after him. He was saved by the intervention of some activist friends.

Several young men narrated incidents of them being not allowed to sit on cots. A young woman asked if such incidents happened only with men. She narrated her experiences, in several villages where she had gone to conduct meetings for the NGO she worked with, when once her caste became known, other women would ask her to get off the cot.

The difference in the positions of older and younger men was very apparent. The older men would talk about cases of humiliation they suffered and leave it at that. The younger ones were using their time for giving calls to arms. One particularly fiery young man was very clear, it is no use sitting on these cots, ”baithna hai to prasasan ki khat par baitho, rajniti ki khat part baitho” (let us occupy the seats of political leadership and the administration). Yet another young man directed his ire at the so called dalit political leaders whom he called ‘paltu titar’ (pet birds) of the hunters upper castes are. Like the hunters who use the tamed birds to attract more of their ilk (when the pet ones scream, the ones in the jungle will think “Oh, one of us is in trouble, let us go help him”), and snare them, the dalit legislators and leaders are only there take advantage of their caste status and bring in the votes.

There were several activists who spoke too. Two of them were rajputs and the master of ceremonies did raise some laughter by referring to this fact. However, the more interesting speech was that of the leader of the Bahujan Samaj Party (BSP). His frequent references to ‘Dalit ki beti, behen Mayawati’ were well received. How she managed to arrest Raja Bhaiyya, the Rajput strong man in UP (who raised crocodiles in his pond and fed them with bodies of dalits), how she brought upper caste IAS and IPS officers to their knees! He himself – ‘grandson of a cattle flayer’, ‘son of a stone quarry contractor’, younger brother to a ‘police officer’ – was now “a registered chamar” who had resumed the original occupation of flaying, not cattle but all those upper caste goons out there, who rob dalits of their izzat. The crowd that had gone into a state of slumber with all the speeches preceding this one were awaken with a jolt and this leader received such ovation. No wonder, the BSP has been able to make strong inroads into the political sphere in many States of North and Central India.

The other aspect evident at this meeting was the large number of adivasi leaders who had arrived as a show of solidarity. All of them laboured the point of adivasi – dalit unity. They were concerned by the fact that both nationally and in Rajasthan, the so-called upper caste controlled system was trying to drive a wedge between these two communities. Some dalit leaders also stressed this point, but a sense of despair was evident in the voices of the adivasi leaders who had come from places as far as Jodhpur.

Print and television media was there in a substantial number. Television cameramen were trying hard to get the people not to move around so much, so as to not block their recording. Away from the hearing of the media men, some young men were heard remarking about the upper caste bias of the media. They were wondering if anything about the meeting will be shown on TV or printed in the papers, given that all editors were the so-called upper castes. Whatever, the large number of media persons at the venue was apparently the result of the networking capability of the general secretary of the Rajasthan PUCL (People’s Union for Civil Liberties, one among the organisers of the meeting.

As the day progressed, speakers graduated from mere citing of humiliating incidents to asserting the right to dignified life. Most slogans heard in the later part of the day were then about the khat being only a symbol, dignity and respect being the key issues. Later in the day, the meeting was to adopt a resolution, one that probably would go down in history as the “Achalpura declaration”.

(written in September 2005)

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WHO SHOULD OWN THE FORESTS? SOME DIALOGUES IN UDAIPUR

“We will protect our forests, whatever may come” – Village Madla, Jhadol

“As long as there are people, there will be encroachments” – Village Piplimala, Jhadol
“These forests are not our responsibility, why should we protect them?“– Village Adivada, Kotra
“We do not have enough land, but we do not want to cut trees or sell them” – Village Hansleta, Kotra

These are samples of what we heard when we asked people in the adivasi villages of Udaipur district about their forests. The four quotes in many ways, sum up the praxis of the complex relationship between human beings and their natural surroundings. One may shout from the roofs about how symbiotic the relationship between adivasis and nature, particularly forests, is. One may also take the side of tigers and put them on a pedestal above human beings, and demand that all human intervention in forests be banned. One could also find peace, and logic in the interstices between these two roofs.

What the bill proposes

There are sufficient numbers of activists and organisations that adhere to one of the two extreme positions. This sharp divide is quite visible when one follows the debate around the proposed Scheduled Tribes (Recognition of Forest Rights) Bill, drafted by the Ministry of Tribal Affairs, which the Government of India proposes to enact. As the statement of objects and reasons to the bill says, “Forest dwelling tribal people and forests are inseparable. One cannot survive without the other. The conservation of ecological resources by forest dwelling tribal communities have been referred to in ancient manuscripts and scriptures. The colonial rule somehow ignored this reality for greater economic gains and probably for good reasons prevalent at the time. After independence, in our enthusiasm to protect natural resources, we continued with colonial legislation and adopted more internationally accepted norms of conservation rather than learning from the country’s rich traditions where conservation is embedded in the ethos of tribal life. ………….. This historical injustice now needs correction before it is too late to save our forests from becoming abode of undesirable elements”.

The bill sets out, in order to correct the injustice, ‘to recognise and vest the forest rights and occupation in forest land in forest dwelling Scheduled Tribes who have been residing in such forests for generations but whose rights could not be recorded; to provide a framework for recording the forest rights so vested and the nature of evidence required for such recognition and vesting in respect of forest land’.

The bill needs to be seen also in light of some measures initiated by the Government of India, fifteen years ago, in the form of circulars issued by the Ministry of Environment and Forest. These circulars, had they been implemented, would have addressed the ‘historical injustices’ in several ways. The six circulars issued with No.13-1/90-FP dated September 18 1990 are:
FP (1) – Review of encroachments on forest land
FP (2) – Review of disputed claims over forest land, arising out of forest settlement
FP (3) – Disputes regarding pattas/leases/grants involving forest lands
FP (4) – Elimination of intermediaries and payment of fair wages to the labourers on forestry works
FP (5) – Conversion of forest villages into revenue villages and settlement of old habitations
FP (6) – Payment of compensation for loss of life and property due to predation/depredation by wild animals

Of the different issues dealt with in these circulars, the current Bill covers inter alia, the issues in circulars 1, 2, 3 and 5. As a result of faulty forest settlement processes, disputes between the revenue and forest departments and those between the forest department and people, many villages in different parts of the country have been deprived of some basic rights and facilities. These include access to social security schemes, access to basic education, health services, infrastructure like roads or electricity – almost everything an average villager in India can take for granted as rights (irrespective of whether it is actually available). All the while, forest dwellers continue to use forest resources for everyday survival, shelling out bribes and fines to forest officials in almost routine regularity.

Other views

Several activists and organisations have taken a less excited view of the Bill, in contrast to the two extreme positions taken by those opposing the Bill in the name of ‘tigers’ or supporting it in the name of ‘tribals’. While accepting that rights of forest dwelling and forest dependent communities are important, they fear that the Bill may not help in achieving this.

Among the serious defects of the Bill highlighted, is the fact that it deals with the different situations across the country as one homogeneous whole. In several parts of states like Madhya Pradesh and Chattisgarh forest-dwelling communities have been deprived of fundamental rights as described above. However, this is not the reality everywhere. In many areas, encroachment of forest land by people – both out of need and greed – is a burning issue. Faulty settlement of forest villages and later day encroachments are two very different issues and would have required different regularisation processes and not the blanket approach suggested in the Bill.

It is worthwhile to note that the Government of India issued a circular in early-2004, ordering regularisation of encroachments up to December 31, 1993. This circular, it is alleged, led to a new spate of encroachments, particularly by people with good political or bureaucratic connections.

The Bill now proposes regularisation of encroachments made before 1980, thus virtually privatising part of the forest land. At the same time, it wants to promote collective efforts to conserve forest resources, this through the instrument of Gram Sabha. How these are put into action is a matter of conjecture, in the absence of reliable records for assessment of encroachments, and with inadequate definition of what the nature of powers vested with the Gram Sabha are. Furthermore, the concept of Gram Sabha as the grassroots governance mechanism remains a paper-dream with very little effort from the part of the States to actualise what is envisaged in the 73rd amendment and PESA. Empowering this institution to manage ecological resources as envisaged in the current Bill is at best a statement of noble intentions.

Understanding people’s perspectives

Our visit to the villages in Udaipur district was an attempt to understand the ground reality with regard to people and their relationship with forests. Forest dependence of communities in Udaipur is different in nature from what we have experienced in other parts of India, like in Jharkhand and Orissa. Many tribal communities there depend on the forest land and forest produce to meet bulk of their food and income requirements. What we understand of the situation in many parts of western India – Jhabua in MP, Dahod in Gujarat and Udaipur – is that, forests contribute to meeting supplementary livelihoods needs – NTFPs that provide cash income, fuel and fodder. Tribal communities in these areas practice more settled forms of agriculture, compared to their eastern counterparts. Seasonal migration as labourers to urban centres is a more critical part of the livelihoods of tribals in the west.

We visited six villages in Jhadol and Kotra tehsils of the district and interacted with the villagers to understand their feelings and perceptions on the whole issue of forest rights, use, encroachment and their need to be maintained as common resources. Seva Mandir, a non-government development organisation has been working in these areas for the past several decades. An important aspect of Seva Mandir’ work has been mobilising communities to protect forests, pasturelands and other commons with a view to nurturing them as ‘social capital’. Seva Mandir’ policy is that commons should be maintained in such a way that all villagers would have access to its benefits.

Seva Mandir has facilitated a federation of village forest protection committees in Jhadol tehsil. The federation called Van Utthan Sangh, in its infancy, plays a critical role in continued motivation of villages towards forest protection. Seva Mandir has been successful in motivating several villages to collectively work on removing encroachments on common lands and protecting them for common benefit. The Van Utthan Sangh member villages in Jhadol have several instances of successful removal of encroachments on forests.

We also had discussions with staff at SPWD’s regional office in Udaipur. This office has been organising meetings with different organisations in the region with a view to developing a common understanding on the Bill and its issues and also exploring possibilities of common action.

The Jangal Jameen Jan Andolan is a platform of activist organisations in Southern Rajasthan that has been in the forefront of the struggle to obtain rights to forest land for tribals in the region. Representatives of the Andolan have also played a role in the drafting of the Bill. As part of its preparation for implementation of the Bill when it is passed, the Andolan has identified about 17000 claims for regularisation. We had discussions with activists of the Andolan that helped us understand their point of view.

The villages we visited were in the operational area of Seva Mandir. They have been associated with Seva Mandir for varying periods of time. The nature of association also varied across villages. Of the six villages we visited, three had joint forest management mechanisms in place. The Forest Protection Committees were functional here and already had done work in earmarking their forest boundaries and building boundary walls. In a fourth village, the proposal for JFM was in advanced stage of processing. Neither of the two villages in Kotra tehsil had JFM mechanisms. One of them, Adivada, falls under the Phulwari ka Nal sanctuary, while the other, Hansleta, apparently is being proposed to be added to this sanctuary.

Both Pargiapada and Madla claim to have convinced its people to give up the encroachments they had made in the forest portions, and brought them under JFM. While this in itself is an achievement, at least in case of Madla the fact remains that the distance from the settlement to their forest (close to 3 kms) made it almost impractical for them to do anything useful on the encroached plots.

In both these cases what also came to the fore in our discussions are the serious boundary disputes with the neighbouring villages. It sounded to us as serious conflicts with little scope for settlement in the immediate future. In case of Madla, the neighbouring village of Sigri is in fact located very close to their protected forest. The people of Sigri have been regularly breaking down the boundary wall to let their cattle in for grazing. Sigri, from what we understand, also have a JFM promoted with support from FES.

Piplimala is much more at peace with itself. Their forest consists of two distinct parts, the slopes and a plateau. The plateau has been encroached upon in the previous generation and 22 families are now permanent residents on this encroached portion. Other families too have farmlands in this area. The people are very clear that there is no chance of them abandoning this encroachment. They however have taken steps to form a forest protection committee (not yet recognised by the forest department) and protect another patch along the slopes. The village has the experience of motivating people to give up encroachment on their common pasture land and developing it with the help of Seva Mandir. But Khemchand the young and energetic Sarpanch of Magwas GP, also the leader of Piplimala has no illusions about forests or people. He very clearly said “jab tak insaan rahega, atikraman hoga hi”.

Som is a more difficult case. The villagers are very clear that the forest portions they have encroached upon are not suitable for growing crops. However, all of them claimed that the encroachments were necessary for them to raise their cattle as the village did not have adequate pasture lands. Many of them mentioned landlessness as being the primary reason behind encroachments but on further enquiry this was linked again to land for grazing and not crop production. Some villagers also referred to the basic human need (greed) for more land.

Adivada is a village right outside the Phulwari ka Nal sanctuary. In fact many houses that we saw were precariously placed on the sanctuary boundary. This is the village where we experienced the omnipresence of the forest bureaucracy. Villagers had to pay the forest guards regularly. In most cases they would be told of being given a receipt for the payment, but later as the guard would not have the receipt book with him. Villagers said that they do not normally cut any tree but only collect dry and fallen wood for fuel. They also collect honey, gum etc. but would have to pay a fine (bribe) to get it out. However, they said that people from outside were regularly cutting wood from the forests near them and taking it away. On being asked as to why these people were not being caught by the guards, their answer was that this happened at night and the guards would be fast asleep. One person did however mention that such cutting of wood happened with the guards knowing about it.

They also narrated incidents when they tried to prevent others from cutting wood or bamboo from the forest. In once case, Lalaji an old man from the village tried to prevent a girl from another village from cutting bamboo from the forest behind his house. He was eventually arrested by the police and had to spend more than Rs.3000 to get out. Men and women whom we met repeatedly told us that it is no use for them trying to prevent outsiders from cutting wood in the forests, as it would only land them in trouble like Lalaji. As he asked, “hamara to jimma nahi hai, hum kyon iski raksha karen”.

Hansleta was a revelation. On first sight the forest cover looked unreal. It became more incredible with the dark clouds looming above. As the people told us, not just Hansleta, but every village in Medi panchayat protected their forests. And they repeated the fact that there has been no reduction in forest cover during the current generation, an exception to what we heard in every other village. Everywhere else, elderly people kept saying how they have witnessed the receding of forests over the past years.

In Som landlessness was being used as an excuse for encroachment. However, according to the people of Hansleta, they are not encroaching on the forests despite inadequate land for food production. It helps that they earn well from migrating to Gujarat, not very far away. They say that the best they produce from their own land is two or three bags of grain. From Gujarat many earn six to ten bags and this helps them live.

People of Hansleta also claim that they do not allow tree-felling in their forests. They narrated an incident of stopping a truck that was carrying away bamboo from their forest and realising Rs.3000 or so as fine from the poacher. It helps them that the only way to transport wood or bamboo from the forest to outside is through the village. However, they do not prevent villagers from neighbouring Gujarat in grazing their cattle or collecting fuel wood from their forest. They themselves let their cattle graze freely inside the forest.

Moving forward – Forests as Commons

Several issues/questions arise at the end of these visits and discussions. The first set of questions pertain to what we think are important issues for effective motivation and mobilisation of these communities towards collective action in the area of forests and similar commons.

 Forests being protected by communities as commons are a symbol of village unity. A matter of great pride for the villager, particularly village leaders! We have seen this expression of unity taking form as response to challenges from both within and outside the village. Such conflicts tend to become less important with passage of time. Would the motivation to retain and protect the commons continue to be there even after that?

The case of two villages in another part of Udaipur is worth citing here. Barawa and Nayakheda are not forest villages, but have large chunks of common pasture lands. These were under encroachment by individual villagers but collective effort supported by Seva Mandir succeeded in vacating these encroachments. Now these pasture lands are under community management, provide in large quantities what they are supposed to, fodder for cattle. This may seem contradicting the statement made above, but it is in fact reinforcing the point made. Barawa and Nayakheda have families for whom animal husbandry is a very important source of livelihoods. And they obviously have a vested interest in obtaining more fodder for their cattle. A resource that, as the villagers clearly articulate, diminishes when divided.

 We encountered claims of landlessness in its varied forms during these discussions. Som on one side and Hansleta on the other. Is either of these two, the reality for all times to come? Will the ‘individual greed’ as experienced in Som continue to be so? And will the ‘collective spirit’ of Hansleta remain so for all days to come even withstanding the pressure for immediate survival?

 Except in the case of Piplimala, where the plateau in the forest had productive land, no village had any great regard for the quality of land in the forests to support increased crop production. Most of these were steep slopes, rocky with very little top soil or organic material and would require very high investment in bunding or terracing to put them to any productive use. What is the economic benefit to the adivasis if such lands under encroachment are made regular? Other than that of satisfying egos?

 Greed is a basic human instinct, as the villagers themselves said. Everyone wants more of what they have. What efforts would be required to motivate people to overcome greed and look at common good in all the villages and not just in a few?

 In the villages where pasturelands and forests are being seen as commons, Seva Mandir has evidently invested in more than a decade of concerted motivation and supported affirmative action – both in removing encroachments and in developing the commons. In villages where such engagement is limited, people’s articulation and feeling towards the commons is limited. The correlation is stark. Seva Mandir workers and villagers seemed to feel that organic spread of such initiatives is limited. What does this bode for bringing about widespread adoption of such practices?

 JFM could be an enabling mechanism for the spread of common interest in forests. Bureaucratic processes in JFM have however played a serious deterrent in this. In several villages, we were unable to get a sense of whether JFM is preferred from a long term perspective or for short term gains of wage employment. What needs to be done to get more communities interested in JFM and the forest department more responsive to community demands?

 Wherever the forest department had a strong presence, like in Kotra area, people were sure that the forests were not theirs. It belonged to the department. In such areas, there were fewer encroachments. Where the department had nominal presence, the feeling of ownership among people was stronger; and incidences of encroachment larger. What do we learn from these – strengthen the department or remove it from the scene?

Laws for the poor?

There are serious concerns on the efficacy of the proposed bill or similar enactments in achieving the twin goals of ecological security in general and livelihoods security for the poor.

What looks clear to us is that a mere administrative measure of regularising encroachments on forest lands by application of either the Scheduled Tribes (Recognition of Forest Rights) Bill, if and when it is passed or Circular FP (1) of the Ministry of Environment and Forests may not make life significantly better for forest-dependant communities, like those we met in Jhadol and Kotra.

One could even ask if regularising of such encroachments is required at all in such areas. Would not strengthening of measures like JFM and other collective management measures aid both – better conservation of the forests while providing better access for the people to its produce?

Our discussions with villagers, organisations and activists make it clear to us that the right way to proceed is to distinguish between three different issues and making policies to address each of these in their specific contexts. The three issues are:
 Need for conservation of forest resources
 Recognising rights of forest dwellers to a dignified life
 Identifying and regularising encroachments that are legitimate and distinguishing them from opportunistic, illegitimate encroachments

The Scheduled Tribes (Recognition of Forest Rights) Bill is yet another legislative step in the lines of PESA and other enactments, laden with noble intentions. We have seen how PESA has remained a ‘paper dream’. Would not the new Bill, when made into a law, follow the same path? None of those raising their voices for or against the Bill seem to be concerned about this aspect.

For the moment, the debate on ‘tigers vs. tribals’ is likely to continue. Whether or not the bill is passed, organisations like Seva Mandir will find that their work on strengthening people’s participation and ownership over forests and other commons is relevant, and will continue to be so.

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SEVA MANDIR, UDAIPUR

Perhaps it’s just as well that we had a task beyond just looking at the organisation and attempting to understand it. The ‘forest rights’ issue provided a frame with which we were able to view Seva Mandir, its position and interplay in the complex institutional web in Rajasthan, or at least in Udaipur. Udaipur can well claim to be the development capital of Rajasthan. Along ‘Seva Mandir Marg’ in Fatehpura are the offices of some of the more prominent NGOs, several of whom owe parentage to Seva Mandir.

Organising its work on three broad planks of Capabilities, Livelihoods and Institutions, Seva Mandir, operates a unique matrix structure that brings together people with diverse skills and backgrounds to work together. The matrix structure also provides the space for young, fresh-out-of-college, professionally trained people to work along with seasoned development activists from the local areas. The traditional areas of work of Seva Mandir are organised into five blocks of Udaipur – Kotra, Jhadol, Girwa, Badgaon and Kherwara. It works as a facilitating agency to the World Bank funded District Poverty Initiatives Project (DPIP) in Kumbhalgarh in Rajasamand district. Of recent origin is Seva Mandir’s work based in the urban areas of Udaipur for women in distress, as well as the Childline service it operates for indigent and lost children.

Growth of an organisation

Till the mid-1980’s Seva Mandir had an almost exclusive focus on promotion of adult literacy in the villages. Seva Mandir looked at itself as an agency to promote awareness and capabilities among the rural population, with a view to ensuring that they get the benefits of democratic governance. It found that this position was not yielding desired results and changed its position. “Towards the mid 1980s, there was a change in government policies towards the voluntary sector. There were also leadership changes within Seva Mandir. During this period Seva Mandir decided it would go beyond organizing people to make claims on the state and try to build people's capacity to engage in development. This shift in perspective was to become a watershed in Seva Mandir’s history. It resulted in far reaching changes in organizational structure and culture .” Among other things, this change in strategy led to an exodus of a number of staff; of those, not in line with this shift in position and wanting to adopt a more vigilant role vis-à-vis the government.

Over the years, “through a process of trial and error, Seva Mandir has found programs through which people are able to free themselves from patron-client relationships and gain political and social perspectives that are oriented to promoting the common good.”

Seva Mandir’s work is based on what its staff affectionately call the ‘Complan’ or the Comprehensive Plan. Plans are made at the villages, consolidated at the block level and later as the organisational plan. Earlier these plans spanned five-years, while the recent ones are for three years each. These plans are indicative of the sustained and comprehensive focus towards development, “nurturing an emphasis on means (though ends are equally important), and engaging in constructive work towards empowered social leadership”, beyond the constraints and uncertainties of project funding cycles.

Through a process of ‘learning by doing’ Seva Mandir nurtures the formation of robust village institutions, strong on the values of social justice and equity, with the view to transferring their democratic strength to Panchayats.

In terms of activities, Seva Mandir focuses on the following in the 583 odd villages that it intensively engages with:
- Natural resource development which includes forestry, watershed development, development of common property resources like pastureland and irrigation
- Education, involving running of NFE centres in villages and village libraries
- Balwadis for pre-school children
- Health interventions involving awareness generation, support to traditional birth attendants and village health workers, maternal and child care
- Women’s development involving promotion of self-help groups for economic and social strengthening
- Promotion and management of Gram Vikas Kosh (Village Fund)

Seva Mandir also runs a fairly successful crafts programme. Its brand ‘Sadhna’ has, over the past four years, built for itself commendable equity in the handicrafts market. Sadhna is now an independent Trust, more or less self-supporting and providing regular employment to more than 300 village women.

Some thoughts

What is most unique about Seva Mandir, when one places it along side contemporary NGOs in the national firma (it is older than most non-Gandhian, non-missionary NGOs by at least a decade), is its commitment to one district in Rajasthan – Udaipur undivided. This is quite unlike the dominant tendency among contemporary NGOs elsewhere, to spread wide geographically. The intent of bringing about substantive transformation in the lives of poor people it engages with, the acknowledgement that sectoral interventions are essential, but that they need to be seen in the broader frame of improvements in people’s lives, and the realisation that these processes take time, effort, resources, patience, persistence, mark Seva Mandir’s approach to development.

The matrix structure provides an essential framework for working, weaving together sectoral interventions into a comprehensive focus to development. The structure provides its challenges especially in defining responsibility and accountability. Working together in the weave of the matrix demands enormous levels of mutuality and sometime spawns misunderstandings and tensions between the sectoral/ support teams and field teams. By consciously creating spaces for dialogue and reflection Seva Mandir takes pre-emptive measures to avert conflicts and crisis, encouraging self criticism often to a point of fault.

We were at times overwhelmed by level of planning that goes into, and the time and resources spent on capacity building. The training centre at Kaya is booked for the entire year for a range of meetings, trainings and workshops. Trainings at the block offices happen with regularity, often for more than half the month.

Among the activities that we came across in the villages of Badgaon, Jhadol and Kotra, two interventions of Seva Mandir strikes us as being particularly remarkable and innovative.

Jan Shikshan Nilayam

The Jan Shikshan Nilayams (Village libraries) are part of Seva Mandir’s education programme. In the four villages we visited three had JSNs, of which we found two to be extremely vibrant and active. In fact we got an update of Sania Mirza’s latest conquests and other lead stories from the blackboard outside the nilayam at Madla, diligently maintained by Laxmi Singh. He and Dhaniram at Medi (whose children are named America, Russia, Australia, etc) shared that there were at least ten serious visitors to the Nilayam each day while others drop by for casual conversations. On select days each week, the JSN workers take their bags filled with books to villages which are further away, to give them an opportunity to come abreast with the world outside.

Back in Udaipur several people involved with the programme were quite taken aback by our effusive praise for what we saw, the activity having come in for much criticism in internal reviews. JSNs are like the village reading rooms that one grew up in Kerala with – the hub of intellectual activity for the community; where information and knowledge is gained and shared; small shanties that contribute to the learning and growth of generations of young men (and some women). JSNs where they are functional, no doubt, are contributing to the well-being of its clients, just like the Granthshala (Library) movement in Kerala did, at least till the late 1980’s.

Gram Vikas Kosh

The Gram Vikas Kosh is a contributory fund created in each village. Families make an initial contribution to set it up. Additions are made into the fund every time there is a Seva Mandir supported natural resource development activity in the village. The value of the voluntary labour contribution made by the villagers is put by Seva Mandir to this fund. A Gram Vikas Committee, is selected by the villagers manage the fund. We found many villages that had funds of up to Rs.5 lakhs. Villagers are obviously very proud of their achievement. Over time GVCs take responsibility for all development activities in the villages. In several villages, leaders of GVCs are also members of the Panchayats. In recent years, there have been efforts to gauge the maturity of Gram Vikas Committees using a Village Cohesion Index to grade them. Financial and operations controls are transferred to GVCs with a high grade, lessening Seva Mandir’s role in a gradual and phased manner.

A critical aspect of Seva Mandir’s work is on social capital. Most of all, Seva Mandir defines the village’s common resources as its social capital. This approach has led to a number of interventions to reclaim, protect and manage common resources. Land is a very prized resource for the bhil adivasis of Udaipur, as is elsewhere in rural India. Three types of common land existed in the villages – charnot or pasture lands, bilanaam or revenue wastelands and forests. In most villages, these are in the encroached possession of villagers. Seva Mandir has succeeded in mobilising several villages to give up/get rid of these encroachments and to protect and manage them collectively. In villages like Barawa and Nayakheda, villagers showed proudly showed us plots of pastureland with boundary walls in which grass grew abundantly. They have a mechanism to harvest the grass and ensure that every family gets its share.

Seva Mandir promotes the Gram Vikas Kosh as another form of village commons. It is unlikely that many villages will rally around to get rid of encroachments on common lands. It is in these cases that the GVK will provide the village a platform to act collectively, to sit together and discuss issues of common interest.

Relating to others

A striking issue that we came across during our stay in Rajasthan and meeting with several NGOs was the near total isolation of Seva Mandir. Its positions often do not find much support among its peers. There is a sense of mutual scepticism between Seva Mandir and organisations positioned as activists and working on the ‘rights’ mode, which feel that Seva Mandir’s constructive rather than confrontational approach to development is limiting. Seva Mandir on the other hand maintains that mere enactment of laws and awareness generation are not sufficient to mobilise repressed and suppressed communities to demand their rights.

On the issue of forest rights, on which most of our interactions with people in Udaipur was focussed, Seva Mandir’s position that all encroachments cannot be viewed equally was received with stoic silence. Seva Mandir has proactively worked in the past years to mobilise communities to remove encroachments from ‘commons’ and restore community ownership over them. It continues to maintain that there is value in such efforts to build commons and sees a threat in a blanket legalisation of encroachments, in weakening the socio-economic fabric of communities. Would it be necessary for Seva Mandir to make proactive efforts in reaching out to the larger world and making the rationale of its positions known?

The situation poses a classic equation of civil society organisations across the country operating within the same region/ environment, polarised on ideological grounds and unable to relate to each other. We were able to relate to our experiences in Orissa where Gram Vikas faces similar isolation. It leaves us pondering if nurturing of collaborative spaces or leveraging mutual strengths is worth attempting at all.

To some one from a neutral background, as we did, arguments made by Seva Mandir in the forests rights issue sounded very logical. But then, not everyone is neutral.

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