You Cannot Mine What’s Ours
The Dongria Kondh community went against all odds to keep a mining giant from destroying the abode of their god, Niyam Raja.
The Dongria Kondh tribe lives in the densely forested Niyamgiri hills of Orissa, with about 300 settlements in the midst of chasms and gushing streams. The Niyamgiri hills hold a profound spiritual significance for the tribe that draws sustenance from the land, and holds nature very close to itself. One of the hills– the Niyam Dongar–is said to be the abode of the deity Niyam Raja.
It is impossible to imagine for those of us who live in urbanscapes how a tribe that lives alongside streams and hills and considers itself to be a part of the land would have felt, when they got to know that a company wanted to mine bauxite near the place where Niyam Raja rests. A big corporation displacing tribal populations from their land is not exactly new.
But what happened in 2013 at Niyamgiri was different. It was the Supreme Court that asked the giant Vedanta Resources Group to consult with local tribal councils before being allowed to mine. The result: twelve local councils unanimously voted against mining of the land.
But this didn’t come about automatically. In May 2008, hundreds of Dongria Kondh protested in Bhubaneshwar, the capital of Orissa, and erected barricades despite threats from Vedanta. Facing police and hired thugs, they reluctantly dismantled them, but maintained a wooden gate to stop the company’s cars from going into the area. Around 800 strong Dongria Kondh tribespeople held peaceful vigils on the road.
Five months later, the Dongrias, armed with traditional weapons, danced and sang in the state capital against Vedanta's mining plans, which had just received a nod from the Supreme Court. Fresh protests erupted in January 2009, as thousands of Dongrias held demonstrations at the refinery gates. They formed a seventeen-kilometre long human chain around Niyamgiri Mountains, halting Vedanta’s advance, preventing bulldozers from destroying the mountains. In October of 2009, over 3,000 demonstrators thronged the small town of Muniguda, blocking its main road.
These efforts helped to pull Vedanta back into scrutiny. It turned out that Vedanta was going against the law. Even as far back as 2005, it had become clear from the government-appointed Central Empowered Committee’s report that the public hearings Vedanta had held to gain local consent might have been forged. The CEC pointed out that, according to the law, tribal land cannot be transferred to non-tribal parties in any case. Even so, the Supreme Court had paid little heed to the committee. It was only in 2010, after years of mass protests from the community, that the Union government sent a team to the ground to report on the effects of mining on the Dongria Kondh tribe. On the basis of this team’s report, the Ministry of Environment and Forest decided to withdraw their clearances for Vedanta’s mines in 2014.
Developing a mining complex and the many systems around it, such as the access roads and conveyor belts required to transport the ore to the refinery, would have meant steamrolling large swathes of forests. Open pit mining would have created a loud noise during digging, drilling, blasting and crushing. The rich ecosystem of the Niyamgiri hills would have been destroyed and the displacement of the natural wildlife from their habitat would have further endangered the living: both human and non-human. The Dongrias, in winning their fight, achieved a win for Niyam Raja, allowing him to remain tranquil in the lush greens of the Niyamgiri Hills.
Yash Srivastava
Srivastava is a staff writer at Object.