A People's Climate Report

The industrial human impact on the earth’s biosphere continues to overwhelm the systems that support life. Of these, climate change has received the most attention since it threatens humans and non-humans everywhere. The official UN body, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), issues periodic reports on the impacts of climate change, but its intended audience consists of political leaders at the national level and the heads of large businesses, multilateral, and non profit organizations.

In contrast, the People’s Climate Report (PCR) is designed to offer a perspective on climate change from the bottom up. We want to understand how communities across the world experience the changing climate. This report offers a glimpse of experiences and voices from communities dealing with a changing climate in West Bengal, Odisha, Jharkhand, and Chhattisgarh, parts of India where waters and forests are increasingly under threat from climate change, deforestation, and lop-sided development.

Dawn has broken, filling the air with birdsong. A woman stands at the edge of a clearing in the forest. At her feet is a hollow she and other village women had dug some months ago. Thanks to two recent rainstorms, the hollow is now a pool that is filled with water. She has been reinforcing the banks; her hands are still muddy. Two other village women are patrolling the forest for anyone trying to cut trees or living branches. The forest has multiple ponds dug to conserve rainwater, and waterways with check dams to prevent streams from disappearing into the man-made desert that surrounds the forest. In the twenty years that the village women have been doing this, the forest has come alive. The trees that were once spindly have become thick-trunked, and the animals have returned, assured of a water supply and food. The leader of the group, Parvati Devi, says that before the desertification of the region, the thick forests used to keep the air cool. There was no shortage of water, and extreme heat was unknown. The desertification of Jharkhand happened when the forests were cut down, when roads were built through them – in some cases four-lane highways for trucks carrying material from the quarries. Twenty years ago Parvati Devi had the foresight to realize that the new problems of water supply and extreme weather were related to the vanishing of the forests. The last remaining forests were almost stripped bare. She got the village women together to nurture the forest back to health. This involved waking up at dawn to patrol the forest in groups of three, digging pools and making mud dams, and convincing the rest of the villagers and the local forest department to let them take charge. And now, two decades later, the forest is green again, the air is moist, and water gurgles in the pools.

These women are not from a university or from a conservation group. These natural resource dependent communities are among the poorest of the poor. They have not had a single day of formal education. And yet they have been the ones protecting this 200-hectare forest for the past twenty years or so. To them the connection between forests and life is clear. Without forests, they say, there is no water. Forests cool the air. They know that you can’t have a healthy forest without animals, so they make sure there is sufficient water for them, too. They are not timid, these women. They are strident. They have chased away people trying to steal wood, and earned the respect of the forest department.

Parvati Devi’s story illustrates a major blind spot of the mainstream discourse about climate solutions. Highly educated people in far-off cities make policy that assumes people like Parvati Devi have nothing to contribute. On the contrary, the assumption is that the rural poor need to be uplifted, mainstreamed into the same economic system that is destroying the forests, emitting carbon dioxide, and leading to climate change and mass extinction.

And yet what we see on the ground is rather different – despite grinding poverty that would be hard for the middle classes to imagine, village women in many parts of rural India are displaying exactly the kind of courage, knowledge, determination, and imagination that are needed to mitigate the climate crisis.

How are people experiencing climate breakdown? What are the immediate and long term impacts and threats communities in climate vulnerable places around the world face? The impacts of climate change in India and other parts of the Global South are inextricably intertwined with other ecological disasters, be it deforestation, damming of rivers or that catch-all phrase: "development."

We begin our exploration on these topics in the People’s Climate Report with interviews in the field conducted in spring and summer of 2019 by one of the PCN members, Somnath, in North Bengal, Sundarbans, Odisha, and Jharkhand. A number of strands emerged in conversations with local communities and elected representatives of local self-government bodies. We capture some themes below.

The Sundarbans are impacted both by sea-level rise and also by local factors such as land subsidence and river flow changes, all of which contribute to rising waters. In the video above a woman from the island of I-plot in the Sundarbans explains the origin of rising waters. She says:

More snow is melting because of global warming. And the water in the sea and river is rising. People are blocking the small canals and converting it into land. On the one hand, the volume of water is increasing on the other hand it has less area to flow. 

and a straightforward solution to the problem:

First of all we have to stop blocking the canals. We have to focus where the river is eroding the banks, just like it’s put here (points nearby), the embankment needs to be reinforced. This side has to be similarly reinforced. And we have to make it easier for the water to flow on the other side. 

When asked about the changes noted in the local geography, she suggested that the water levels in the river had risen over the last 20 years. These changes in local ecology show up in various ways in peoples’ lives and local landscapes. For example, according to her, while the riverbank near them was eroding, the silt was being deposited at the other side. She deemed it a natural phenomenon, "nature has its own course." This also indicates the knowledge of the geography of the region and the changes occurring therein. Another challenge noted in the Sundarbans was the inundation during extreme weather events such as during cyclone Aila in 2009. Extreme weather events therefore, were immediate concerns and dangers manifesting in people's lives in this ecologically fragile zone.

Importantly, this respondent had concrete ideas on what the institutional response to these changes ought to be. She suggests that canals not be blocked. The embankment needs to be enforced on the side where the river is eroding the bank. In addition, on a global level, the respondent added that we need to curb pollution and the use of plastic.

The tribal areas of India are amongst the most impacted by the developmental state, with forests being cut down to mine coal and other minerals. There's also a lingering threat of displacement such as with the 2019 Supreme Court challenge to the  Forest Rights Act  (FRA) that could have potentially evicted more than a million people from forested areas. Apart from developmental activities leading to deforestation, these areas are also experiencing changing rainfall patterns, excess heat (in Orissa). While deforestation, say, for the purposes of mining, isn’t the direct result of climate change, forests act as a carbon sink; we believe that our best chance for preserving forests is if Adivasis and other forest dwellers are granted rights and control over their forests.

Everyone interviewed in Odisha, in Sundargarh District was most concerned with the immediate and imminent threat of eviction from traditional lands. The interviews took place in the immediate weeks after the Supreme Court of India’s February 2019 judgement ordering the eviction of thousands of indigenous and forest dwelling communities as a result of a plea from some conservationists. Communities interviewed here typically depend on minor forest produce for survival for half the year “Jendu, Char, Harda, Beheda, Sargi, Mahula, Kusum, Mahu, Jhuna, Lac, Kendu leaves etc. we collect them and sell them to run our families and kilns.”

A recurring refrain was the lack of clarity on rules and the lack of answers from those in authority, further fueling the uncertainty:

When the FRA came in 2006 the rules came in 2008 and were amended in 2012, in our village there are 65 families, only 25 families claims were approved. They haven’t yet received their titles. Why were the rest of the claims for forest rights canceled- we have no answers from government officials, neither have they said anything. What were the mistakes or problems - they haven’t told us.” Respondent in Paudi Bhuiyan. This lack of clarity and accountability on part of the administration was echoed in Ratanpur village where the respondent called out the hypocrisy inherent in government action: “Whenever we ask whenever we ask when we will get the title, they say it has gone for signature of the collector. How many days does it take to get a signature- it’s quite frustrating. That is why we haven’t yet got the titles. When a company comes, they are able to give them thousands of acres of land immediately. But when it comes to poor adivasis- it’s now 10-12 years since the forest rights act was passed. We haven’t yet got the legal recognition over our lands. That’s why we feel disappointed. We hope that they can still give our land rights to us as soon as possible.

This lack of clarity and accountability on the part of the administration was echoed in Ratanpur village where the respondent called out the hypocrisy inherent in government action:   

Whenever we ask when we will get the title, they say it has gone for signature of the collector. How many days does it take to get a signature- it’s quite frustrating. That is why we haven’t yet got the titles. When a company comes, they are able to give them thousands of acres of land immediately. But when it comes to poor adivasis- it’s now 10-12 years since the forest rights act was passed. We haven’t yet got the legal recognition over our lands. That’s why we feel disappointed. We hope that they can still give our land rights to us as soon as possible.

Two years ago we had sent out claim to the Sub Division Level Committee (SDLC). Till now we have not got any information from them. We have gone to the SDLC office many times. We are being given no information about the status. We have been cultivating the land, about 6-7 acres, even my grandparents had been cultivating it. We are poor tribals, we, our children, depend on it. We can’t survive if we are not given titles. We grow ragi, paddy, tubers on the land, that’s how we make our living. We can live if the government gives us patta (title) to the land.

Another respondent in Odisha claimed differential treatment by the government:

When we came to know that the government is recognizing rights on forest lands- since our ancestors have been cultivating these lands since pre-colonial periods. So in 2011 we filed our claims for individual forest rights on land occupied by us. Revenue inspector, Amin etc all had come, forester was also involved- they all signed and sent the claim. And in that the government treated adivasis and non-adivasis differently. They gave land titles to the tribals and didn’t give pattas to the non tribals.

The documentation requirements for non-tribal forest dwelling communities are much more stringent compared to those for tribal communities; this colonial legacy of ‘divide and rule’ drives a wedge between communities that have been living together for generations.

My name is Indra Shankar Thapa, this is the village of Buxa Duar. We have been living in these Buxa Duar hills for about 300-400 years. It is a very sad day for us, the people of Buxa Duar. Today the Supreme Court of india has passed judgement to evict all forest dwellers. So where will we go now? We live together with the wild animals and have been doing so for ages. We have mutual love and respect for each other. So today, we are requesting the government to help alleviate the panic that has set in among the people of Buxa Pahars (hills) as well as all forest dwellers affected by this judgement. The appeal is to both the central and state governments to save us. We have families, little kids, elderly people in the community and we don’t know how and where we will leave this place. We are citizens of India and we too have the right to live here. So please let us live and grow here. That is my only request. Thanks, Jai Hind.

 I am here today in Buxa Fort, Buxa Fort is at the top of Buxa Tiger Reserve. There are 13 villages on top of the hill. We have gathered here today to meet and inform all folks about the injustice done by the judgement by Supreme Court on 12th February. We are here to tell who we are. Why do we always have to live in fear and panic?

In Buxa fort, which sits atop a tiger sanctuary in Northern West Bengal, the immediate concern at the time of the interviews was also the looming fear of eviction resulting from the Supreme Court of India judgement early in 2019. Since the declaration of the tiger reserve in 1983, the local population has been at the receiving end of top down policies from the administration that have impinged on their community rights despite having lived in the area long before the sanctuary came into being, including the rights to plant trees or build homes. The constant demands from authorities and lack of their agency in decisions that impacted their lives was a central concern,

“Sometimes we are asked to relocate. At times, something else is being asked of us. At times something else is being asked of us. Why will this happen? We have lived in this place for many generations….. We are not able to undertake any activity like building homes or planting fruit trees thinking we may have to move. We are not able to plan and think about our future here. Why is this happening every time?”

While climate change is forbiddingly abstract, deforestation is obvious. The loss of forest cover has many other impacts too: depletion of groundwater, increase in net-carbon emissions, changes in local weather patterns, loss of traditional tribal livelihoods and of course the inevitable collapse of various plant and animal species.

It's not hard to find entire forests that have been cleared in the name of development. Jharkhand, Chhattisgarh, and other tribal areas have plenty of coal and other natural resources, and India continues to build coal plants despite also investing in renewable energy. The carbon economy is deeply tied to deforestation.

Extractive mining is a violent industry throughout the world. Which is why the courage of local communities in resisting deforestation is remarkable. The women in this video from Pakur in Jharkhand talk about how they stopped the felling of trees in a twelve acre plot and how that not only keeps the forest safe but also supplies food, leaves, and other materials for four or five villages.

When these trees were small we talked in our village and decided to stop this, to not let anyone cut the trees. We stuck bamboo flags in the ground, to prevent others from cutting the trees. That’s why these trees are so big! We get many things from this forest…. Enough leaves for four or five villages.

Tribal communities across India live inside forests or close to them, but they also farm for a living. In this video from Korba in Chhattisgarh, the Adivasi village Sarpanch (an elected village leader), explains that the forest gives them enough to subsist for six months of the year and the other six months they practice farming. The forest is also a source of medicinal herbs he says, plants for treating malaria and typhoid as well as for setting broken bones. No wonder he says,

We are happy with the jungle. We can't stay for too many days in the city. We aren't able to suffer the city ways, the air and the environment for too long….We are fully satisfied with our jungle… we are part of the jungle… In the hot summer days when we go into the jungle, we don’t need to take water bottles… we find clean drinking water everywhere in the jungle

Without romanticizing the lives of Adivasis and other forest dwellers, we need to acknowledge that the destruction of forests is an act of violence at many levels: to the trees and the animals, to the cultures that have coexisted with the natural world for centuries and to the sustainability of the planet as a whole.

It is not surprising that certain themes are reiterated by most of the people who shared their stories with us. While there is concern about immediate issues such as rivers rising, destruction of forests and forest rights, many people we interviewed had a deep understanding of the long term importance of forests for the well being of all life. Their expertise is apparent both in terms of challenges, and potential solutions to the problems at hand. For example, in the Sundarbans a suggested solution is raising the height of the river embankment to respond to rising water levels.

The coexistence of forest, wild animals and local communities emerges as a motif. This is consistent with an  emerging global recognition  of the crucial role of forest-dwelling communities in climate mitigation. A  2018 report  from a coalition of organizations including indigenous groups and the Rights and Resources Institute, estimates that Indigenous peoples and local communities ‘ manage nearly 300,000 million metric tons of carbon in their trees and soil—equivalent to 33 times global energy emissions in 2017.” For instance, the community leader from Buxa Fort stresses how essential the forest communities are to conservation of forests;

If you observe carefully, places which still have villages, have forest land, but places from where villages have been removed, don’t have much forest left.….if these communities are displaced, not only the people, but also the wildlife and biodiversity will be endangered and none may survive

The call to the world community for solidarity is a plea to stand together for the rights of the forest dwellers as well as safeguarding forests and biodiversity. As evidenced by the report referenced above, community rights over forests are a crucial climate mitigation strategy. The improper implementation of the FRA, and the challenge to it from the February 2019 Supreme Court judgment clearly indicate that this is not recognized by the government or legislators. The response of our second respondent in Buxa Duar exemplifies the reaction of forest-dwelling communities across India to this judgment. 

Our entire village is terrified by this judgement. We don’t have much livelihood in this place anyways, but we live here in the forests and are the ones who have maintained this forest and nature. Where will we go now from here? We are citizens of India and we too have the right to live here. So please let us live and grow here

Another theme that emerges is that “Climate change” is not necessarily the central concept in community storytelling. Climate change is outside people’s historical experience - not just forest dwellers but almost everyone - and it’s local impacts may well be taken to be “natural” phenomena. That lack of experience shows up in language - it’s all too easy for a first world dweller to deny climate change or to adopt an apocalyptic stance since those are the most readily available registers. We need a more fine grained literature of climate action, especially because we recognize the inextricable connections between inequality, colonialism, consumerism, neoliberal ‘development,’ and climate breakdown.   Since climate change is a consequence and manifestation of systemic injustices, any just and effective mitigation strategy must tackle the socio-economic roots of the problem. Thus the lived experiences of people in forest areas and the Sundarbans offer a perspective on the climate emergency that’s missing in most fora; they serve to complicate the top-down view of the crisis because climate change is connected to land rights, forest rights, mining, and ‘development.’ The deep knowledge of such communities, acquired over millennia, offer a complementary and corrective perspective on climate change as it manifests across the world.  Such a perspective, rooted as it is in a deeply interconnected worldview of the web of life, offers an effective and ethical pathway out of the crisis that contrasts with potentially destructive “global” interventions such as, for example,  geoengineering  We consider the ‘global-local’ dichotomy to be a false one that privileges dominant knowledge systems. Climate justice demands the centering of the knowledge and agency of the people who are at the forefront of both climate impacts and ‘development’ projects. Equal partnerships with communities that can inform, organize, and mobilize their members is an essential component of effective and just climate action.