Fault lines of intervention

We are currently in the throes of a new iteration of how individuals, societies and countries view and portray their identity. There was a time when the urge was to find commonality among identities while also celebrating uniqueness. This ‘Brotherhood/Sisterhood’ resulted in the formation of the United Nations and its many organisations and also NATO and the Warsaw Pact. The world has moved from Woodstock, about which Joni Mitchell said, “Woodstock was a spark of beauty where half-a-million kids saw that they were part of a greater organism,” to Live Aid where the world came together to help the people of Ethiopia. Now, Glastonbury, Burning Man and Coachella provide platforms for the audience to celebrate their uniqueness while enjoying the music.

There are national, religious, and social identities that one recognises, preserves and respects or is compelled to do so. However, for the lesser-known ethnic identities, this has not been the case. They have been pummelled by big organisations.

One of the first instances of ethnic identity coming head-to-head with environmental protection was the attempt by environmental organisations to prevent the commercial slaughter of seal pups for their fur in the early 1970s. The resulting ban impacted the Inuit communities and their way of life.

In the above instance, protecting the environment resulted in the indigenous communities becoming collateral damage. There have been instances where indigenous communities have used their ethnic identity to resist the takeover of their land by corporations and governments. In the process of this resistance they have protected the environment for the larger society.

The example of the ongoing battle of the Dongria Kondh (a tribe in India) to protect the Niyamgiri hill range provides an example of how identity is linked to protecting the environment. The Dongria Kondh believe that the Niyamgiri Hill is ‘our God, our Lord, our Goddess, our father, our mother, our life, our death, our flesh, our blood, our bones’, as a Dongria tribal woman put it. This deep link is based on the fact that the hill provides for their livelihood. This dependence is acknowledged by the fact that the word ‘Dongria’ means hill. The efforts of Vedanta, a multinational company, to mine these hills for Bauxite are being blocked by the Dongria Kondh because their survival depends on the munificence of Niyamgiri.  By fighting to protect their way of life and identity, the Dongria Kondh are also protecting the environment. 

In the US, Native Americans protested against the Dakota Access Pipeline which passes through their Sacred Grounds. In their fight to protect what they hold sacred, Native Americans are also preventing water resources, accessed by all Americans, from being contaminated.

Cultural identity has proved to be a potent force to argue against environment protection too. Japan is leaving the International Whaling Commission and will begin commercial whaling in July 2019. Since 1986 when a ban on commercial whaling was put in place, Japan carried on whaling due to a loophole: whaling for research and scientific purposes.

International environmental organisations have been unable to prevent the Japanese from killing whales. The whaling industry in Japan began in the 1600s and is now subsidised by the Japanese government. The Japanese demand for whale meat also drives the commercial whaling industry of Iceland and Norway where whale meat consumption is miniscule.

Also in Japan, the residents of the town of Taiji capture dolphins for food and for sale to marine parks. It is said that this feature began in 1969 and, therefore, cannot be accorded the argument of being part of a culture or tradition. The inhabitants of Faroe islands cull whales in an annual ritual called grindadráp. The whale meat is consumed locally.

An article in the Japan Times suggests that the reason Japan continues to whale is to show it ‘isn’t cowed by gaiatsu (outside pressure)’. Another article suggests that Japanese recalcitrance to bow to international pressure on this instance is because of their fear that it can open the floodgates to other similar demands on other aspects of the Japanese way of life. This just goes to show how a cultural and dietary habit can grow into a form of nationalism.

But it is not only in the case of the environment where one sees such conflict. It is also in the arena of domesticated animals. Closer home, the treatment meted out to cows has brought out the worst in people. The traditions revolving around these animals bring out a culture, which is rich in chauvinism and double standards. For example, on the one hand, jallikattu is seen as part of cultural identity, the practise and preservation of which is larger than the concern for the treatment meted out to these animals during the event. But, on the other hand, the concern for these animals is so great that it permits lynching of human beings when it comes to old cattle becoming a source of food and raw material.

As humans are on top of the food chain, we derive life from the environment. Today, traditions, cultural and ethnic identities are in a unique situation of being threatened by environmental destruction and protection. This is catalysing the formation of new social groups with identities of their own to prevent either. The challenge set before humans is not of the old and the new living together but, the manner of their co-existence.

Author has worked in the development sector