Indigenous communities in the two ecologically fragile Himalayan States are routinely excluded from this narrative that fuels reckless growth.
Article written by Manshi Asher published on 21/09/23 in Frontline
The monsoon of 1999 is etched vividly in my memory. At 23, shortly after finishing my master’s, I was to join a project that worked on strengthening forest regeneration initiatives of local village forest councils called van panchayats in Munsiari, a border tehsil of Pithoragarh district in Uttarakhand. Van panchayats, separate from Panchayati Raj institutions, are a category that the British created to quell a long agitation that began in the early 1900s in Kumaon in response to the empire’s attempt to reserve forests for commercial interests.
I had no insight into this history, its relevance, and no wherewithal, except a curious mind and starry eyes, for the wilderness. What I had was middle-class privilege and an urban gaze that exoticised the Himalaya as “hill stations” with lush coniferous canopies; much like the Insta-reels of today, except playing in one’s own head. Probably also like the sarkari babus for whom this was (perhaps still is?) a “punishment posting” or like the engineers who are brought in to build mountain roads. There I was, with zero knowledge and experience, entering a new world as a “qualified NGO professional”, largely minus the state’s institutional power and paraphernalia.
