Indigenous Studies - Page 3

Weaving Dreams of a World Among Worlds: T’nalak of the T’boli as an Ecological Practice

/
3.9K views

Leni dlR. Garcia1 & Hazel T. Biana2*   
1,2 Professor of Philosophy, Department of Philosophy, De La Salle University, Manila, Philippines. *Corresponding author

Rupkatha Journal, Vol. 16, Issue 1, 2024. https://doi.org/10.21659/rupkatha.v16n1.05
[Article History: Received: 28 December 2023. Revised: 06 February 2024. Accepted: 07 February 2024. Published: 08 February 2024
]
Full-Text PDF Issue Access

Abstract

George Marshall claims that environmental advocacy does not get enough traction despite the urgency of the climate crisis because of two things.  One, the human brain reacts to things that are personal, definite, visible, and urgent. Climate change does not exhibit any of these and, thus, tends to be ignored. Two, most consciousness-raising efforts take the scientific route, disseminating information using technical jargon.  While it appeals to the analytic side of the brain, it does not compel action.  The brain’s intuitive/emotional side must be affected to elicit an effective response to an event.   Affect is achieved creatively, especially through stories with which people can identify. The modern world, however, shuns stories as pre-scientific, outmoded, and false. Using a pluriversal view where the coexistence of different but overlapping epistemologies is imaginable, this paper shows that the reactivation of marginalized knowledge systems could counter the dominance and universalism of the (Western) modern world. Traditional epistemologies, as performances, could model the intuitive and personal relationship with the environment claimed to be effective in compelling climate action. It demonstrates this through the t’nalak culture of the T’boli, one of the Indigenous Peoples of the Philippines.  T’nalak-making is a sacred ritual that performs a cultural ecology that sees the world as divine, composed of spiritual beings that guard natural resources.  As such, the T’boli build relationships with them by respecting and caring for the environment where these spirits dwell and rule. As the t’nalak gains wide recognition through the performance of the annual T’nalak Festival and the t’nalak itself gains protection from modern systems as an intellectual property, the t’nalak-based cultural ecology could inspire a similar attitude toward the planet to help mitigate the effect of climate change.

Keywords: T’boli, T’nalak, Cultural Ecology, Pluriverse, Performance

Sustainable Development Goals: Climate Action, Life on Land

Citation: Garcia, L. D. & Biana, H.T. (2024). Weaving Dreams of a World Among Worlds: T’nalak of the T’boli as an Ecological Practice. Rupkatha Journal 16:1. https://doi.org/10.21659/rupkatha.v16n1.05 

Palliating War Trauma: Exploring the Therapeutic Role of Nature in Silko’s Ceremony

/
1.9K views

Sini Jacob1  & Benoy Kurian Mylamparambil2  
1,2 Assistant Professor, St. George’s College Aruvithura, Kottayam, India. *Corresponding author.

Rupkatha Journal, Vol. 16, Issue 1, 2024. https://doi.org/10.21659/rupkatha.v16n1.04
[Article History: Received: 31 December 2023. Revised: 03 February 2024. Accepted: 04 February 2024. Published: 08 February 2024
]
Full-Text PDF Issue Access

Abstract

Trauma has been part of human life both in its everyday and extreme forms. Man often experiences multidimensional crises leading to unanticipated trauma. Trauma includes experiences of fear, terror, and disempowerment that overpower the defence mode, threatening to paralyze the vital functions of a person or community. Marginalized people and communities who are exposed to extreme forms of atrocities are constantly exposed to traumatic experiences. The imaginative literature has a special sensitivity and affinity to trauma, offering insights into the survivors’ mentality. Moreover, it can offer reparative practices that can lead to healing. The cognitive richness and suggestive power of literature can serve as a complex medium of trauma representation. There are diverse ways of professionally dealing with trauma. Ecological modes of engagement characterized by ecological connectivity and reconstruction, lead to holistic healing for traumatized individuals. This study examines how trauma victims engaged or inter-meshed with nature are healed quickly and how the experience of nature becomes an active component of their rehabilitation.  In Leslie Marmon Silko’s literary masterpiece, Ceremony, the intricate interplay between war trauma, culture, and the environment is delicately examined to unravel the profound ways in which nature serves as a healing agent in the present world. By creating a nature-based ceremony, Silko’s novel showcases how Indigenous cultures use their ecological knowledge leading to holistic healing, that transcends individual pain and trauma.

Keywords: trauma, healing, indigenous, cultural ecology, victimization.

Sustainable Development Goals: Climate Action, Life on Land

Citation: Sini Jacob, S. & Mylamparambil, B.K. (2024). Indigenous Festivals and Climate Sustainability in India: A Case Study of Cultural Practices and Performances. Rupkatha Journal 16:1. https://doi.org/10.21659/rupkatha.v16n1.04 

Indigenous Festivals and Climate Sustainability in India: A Case Study of Cultural Practices and Performances

//
3.7K views

Ayan Mondal1*   & Maya Shanker Pandey2
1Research Scholar, Department of English, Banaras Hindu University. *Corresponding author.
2Senior Professor, Department of English, Banaras Hindu University.

Rupkatha Journal, Vol. 16, Issue 1, 2024. https://doi.org/10.21659/rupkatha.v16n1.03
[Article History: Received: 30 December 2023. Revised: 03 February 2024. Accepted: 04 February 2024. Published: 05 February 2024
]
Full-Text PDF Issue Access

Abstract

With the inadequacy of the Western frameworks in addressing climate change, there is a need to integrate indigenous knowledge systems into the global framework to harness climate sustainability. The historical marginalization of the indigenous people in India in the colonial era has continued through the present postcolonial era, leading to environmental exploitation and social dislocation of the Adivasis. This has resulted in a severance of the transmission of sustainable practices embedded in the tribal cultures into the global framework. Advocating for the integration of indigenous ecological wisdom into global strategies, this paper will highlight the significance of tribal festivals like ‘Sarhul,’ ‘Baha,’ and ‘Kunde Habba’ in reinforcing climate resilience. Indian tribal festivals have traditionally popularised sustainable practices and rituals to stay in harmony with nature, and the sacred sites located in the indigenous communities function as sites for rituals and festivals fostering ecological sustainability. This paper explores how tribal art forms like ‘Warli’ and ‘Gond’ art imbue communities with ecological consciousness and resilience, and through storytelling and artistic expressions, it raises awareness about climate issues and empowers communities to safeguard ecosystems vital for all life forms. This paper asserts that traditional performance cultures, manifested through rituals, dances, and art, serve as catalysts for sustainable practices, biodiversity conservation, and community resilience, and advocates for a recentring of the indigenous performances to resist Anthropocentric and Capitalocentric practices.

Keywords: Anthropocene, climate crisis, ecological sustainability, indigenous knowledge, tribal performances

Sustainable Development Goals: Climate Action, Life on Land

Citation: Mondal, A. & Pandey, M.S. (2024). Indigenous Festivals and Climate Sustainability in India: A Case Study of Cultural Practices and Performances. Rupkatha Journal 16:1. https://doi.org/10.21659/rupkatha.v16n1.03 

Resisting Eco-colonialism Through Indigenous Epistemologies and Performances in Nigeria

/
2.1K views

Stanley Timeyin Ohenhen1* & Princewill Chukwuma Abakporo²
¹,² Theatre Arts Programme, Bowen University, Iwo Osun State, Nigeria. *Correspondng author. 

Rupkatha Journal, Vol. 16, Issue 1, 2024. https://doi.org/10.21659/rupkatha.v16n1.02
[Article History: Received: 01 December 2023. Revised: 01 February 2024. Accepted: 02 February 2024. Published: 03 February 2024
]
Full-Text PDF Issue Access

Abstract:

The lands and natural resources of indigenous communities in the Global South have been severely exploited thereby leading to a major decline in the ecosystem, following centuries of colonization.  The research intends to investigate and demonstrate the relevance of indigenous cultural epistemologies and traditional performances, in challenging and reversing the ecological degradation brought about by colonialism in Nigeria. Relying on the postcolonial, and environmental justice theoretical frameworks, an examination of the literature and case study centred on the indigenous populations in Ogoniland in the Niger Delta region of Nigeria will be deployed. Through an exploration of the traditional performances of the Ogoni people, which are deeply rooted in their indigenous cultural epistemologies, encompassing their customary knowledge structures, rituals, and worldviews, this study aims to illuminate the deep ecological understanding that has supported this Nigerian, Niger Delta community for several generations. Additionally, it aims to acknowledge the vital role that indigenous peoples play in maintaining a variety of ecosystems as well as their deeply ingrained spiritual and cultural ties to the natural world. The study examines creative practices and effective eco-restorative projects led by the indigenous people of Ogoniland that defy the colonial-era models of resource extraction and industrial development. The research intends to contribute to the current global conversation on decolonization, environmental stewardship, and the importance of inclusive and diverse viewpoints in sustainable development. The research concludes that indigenous cultural epistemologies and traditional performances provide vital resources for engaging the ecological issues that Ogoniland and other locations in Nigeria for that matter, face by elevating the voices and knowledge of indigenous peoples.

Keywords: Indigenous cultural epistemologies, colonialism, ecological degradation, Global South, Ogoniland, Nigeria, environmental stewardship, decolonization, inclusive perspectives.

Sustainable Development Goals: Peace, Justice and Strong Institutions, Life on Land

Citation: Ohenhen, S.T. & Abakporo, P. C. (2024). Resisting Eco-colonialism Through Indigenous Epistemologies and Performances in Nigeria. Rupkatha Journal 16:1. https://doi.org/10.21659/rupkatha.v16n1.02 

Inundating Cultural Diversity: A Critical Study of Oral Narratives of Kurichyas and Guarani in the Structuralist Perspective

/////
2.5K views

Haseena Naji

Research Scholar, Department of English Studies, Central University of Tamil Nadu, Thiruvarur, Tamil Nadu, India. Email: haseenanaji@gmail.com

Rupkatha Journal, Vol. 14, Issue 3, September-October 2022, Pages 1–21. https://doi.org/10.21659/rupkatha.v14n3.13

First published: October 8, 2022 | Area: Latin America | License: CC BY-NC 4.0

(This article is published under the themed issue Across Cultures: Ibero-America and India”)
Abstract Full-Text PDF Cite
Inundating Cultural Diversity: A Critical Study of Oral Narratives of Kurichyas and Guarani in the Structuralist Perspective

Abstract

The paper seeks to explore the practicability of using Vladimir Propp’s framework to study the oral narratives of the Kurichyan tribe of Wayanad, Kerala, India and of the Guarani tribe of Paraguay, South America. For this purpose, Narippaattu (Wolf Song) of Kurichyar and The Beginning Life of the Hummingbird of Guarani are chosen. Out of the 27 functional events identified in the former, six of them do not fit into the Proppian framework and of the 13 identified in the latter, three of them do not conform to the Proppian structure. The events which are matched with Proppian events are tediously paralleled and do not correspond to each other entirely in the Proppian sense. None of the events identified in both tales show any linear or causal progression. Through this, I argue that an attempt to study narratives that originate from communities with multiple subtle diversities in terms of a universal structure will be problematic and mostly futile. We will lose the culturally distinct, subtle manifestations in the narratives in the endeavour to make them fit into any universal framework.

Keywords: structural analysis, Kurichya, Guarani, Propp, narrative analysis, poststructuralism

Full-Text PDF

Imagined Ethnography and Cultural Strategies: A Study of Easterine Kire’s Sky is My Father and Don’t Run, My Love

//
7.1K views

Shiv Kumar

Department of English, Faculty of Arts Benares Hindu University, Varanasi, India. Email: bhushiv3@gmail.com

Rupkatha Journal, Vol. 14, Issue 2, April-June, 2022. Pages 1-12. https://doi.org/10.21659/rupkatha.v14n2.ne29

First published: June 30, 2022 | AreaNortheast India | LicenseCC BY-NC 4.0

(This article is published under Themed Issue on Literature of Northeast India)
Full-Text HTML Full-Text PDF Cite
PlumX Metrics

Abstract

Stuart Hall, in his 1983 lectures states, “people have to have a language to speak about where they are and what other possible futures are available to them….These futures may not be real; if you try to concretize them immediately, you may find there is nothing there. But what is there, what is real, is the possibility of being someone else, of being in some other social space from the one in which you have already been placed.” (Hall, 2016, p.205) The literature from Northeast India puts forward the issue of systematic erasure and structural exclusion [institutionalized through legal mechanisms like the Armed Forces Special Powers Act.] from the mainstream national imagination and literary space. Easterine Kire’s primary agenda is to revitalize cultural practices that have been facing “historical elision.” (Sarkar, 1997, p.359) This elision threatens the poly-ethnic, culturally vibrant, and tribal cultures by constructing and presenting the northeastern region of India as a conflict-ridden space. Situated within this ontology of existence, reality, and becoming, Easterine Kire’s Don’t Run, My Love (2017) and Sky is My Father: A Naga Village Remembered (2018) revive and revitalize the folktales and cultural practices to assert the cultural economy of the Naga tribes. Her writings represent a politically conscious positionality of the characters, context, and the plot to assert the culturally constituted identity through the revival of vibrant cultural practices and tribal epistemologies.

Keywords: Imagined ethnography, colonization, culturally-constituted subject, folklore, vernacular, memory, erasure, revival

 

Introduction

Writers from Northeast India like Temsula Ao, Mamang Dai, Aruni Kashyap, and Easterine Kire, among others, deal with the issue of cultural conditions consequent upon Northeast India’s encounter with the British invasion and exclusion from mainland India’s political and literary imagination. Their writings contextualize the gradual and systematic erasure of indigenous tribal epistemologies and oral cultures. They question the structural exclusion from national and literary imagination and attempt to create their own unique space. The genesis of India’s northeastern states’ isolation and separation from mainland India can be traced back to colonial times when the colonizers refused to acknowledge their poly-ethnicity and social and cultural assertion[i]. The social and spatial otherization of the Northeast as a monolithic cultural space was achieved through “an undifferentiated picture of nameless insurgencies.” (Baruah, 2007, p. 01) As a result, all the states of Northeast India share “a persistent indifference and neglect on the part of [the] mainstream.” (Venkatesan, 1989, p.128) This crisis led to a desire to revive and recuperate their lost cultural moorings by producing alternative historiography. Easterine Kire deploys an imagined ethnographic approach in Don’t Run, My Love (2017) and Sky is My Father: A Naga Village Remembered (2018) to “questions about where one can speak from, to who one speaks, and why one speaks at all seem to be more immediately articulated within ethnography than elsewhere.” (Elspeth Probyn quoted in Gray, p. 23)

The politics of cultural strategies through imagined ethnography, as a methodological tool to revive the cultural past, becomes evident in the opening of the text, Don’t Run, My Love where the central characters are presented as a part of a culturally constituted space. The text is about Visenuo and her young marriageable daughter Atuonuo. The narrative begins with a description of the work that both women perform without any support from a male figure. It portrays a space where women are not dependent on patriarchs to survive rather, they together weave their lives around each other. Both are presented as belonging to some “ancient green valley” that to the outside world remains unknown and mysterious. (Don’t Run, 05) It is from this same timeless and undefined space that Kevi enters into their lives. Kevi is described as “anyone who set eyes on him, man or woman, young or old, had to admit that he was a beautiful creature indeed, the young man who called himself Kevi and who walked into the lives of two women at harvest time.” (Don’t Run, 01) He describes himself as “a trapper and a hunter”, a traditional Naga community activity. (Don’t Run, 06) Through imagined ethnography, Kire engages in the task of rewriting cultural narratives, by using ‘alternative signifying’ (Schwab, 2012, p.02) symbols, to produce resistance to dominating powers through significant cultural intervention. In this context, Kevi is presented as an archetypal figure descended from a legend and called “tekhumevi”, whose “face was completely covered with hair and he looked nothing like himself” when Atuonuo and Kevi spent a night in her mother’s hut. (Don’t Run, 78, 91) Their positionality, within a culturally defined space, determines the politics of recuperation and revival of a culture threatened by colonial experiences and modernity. It is the folkloric legend that is brought into context in this text where the lives of the central characters are integrated with oral tradition and a legend. Kevi’s presence represents the Naga community’s belief in lycanthropy, where one individual possesses dual souls of an animal and a man. When Visenuo asks whether he was a man or a tiger, Pfenuo, a woman who stays in the Village of Sheers, answers;

‘they are both’… ‘They have a foot in both the worlds. So long as they are alive, they belong to both the world of men, and the men that we call their owners grow more powerful and wealthy from this connection. But it is wrong to call them tiger-owners: the tiger and the man, they are one and the same. When the tiger eats, the man eats: we always say that. Some people insist that the man participates when the tiger is out hunting. We also say, when the tiger dies, the man dies. So they are very closely connected; they say the man is the body and the tiger is the soul. Some say they can interchange at will. (Don’t Run, 92-93)

Kevi, a ‘were-tiger’, taken directly from a Naga legend and textualized in a plot, seems to jolt the dominant sensibility by remaining as mysterious throughout the text as he was in the beginning. It shakes the aesthetic sensibility of the reader who reads the text with the baggage of preconceived notions and beliefs. Such literary experiments open up a process of dialogic exchange. Strange objects emerge through language that negotiates the boundary between the self and the world which challenges what is considered known, and familiar. It opens up new patterns of reading of otherness, something that remained beyond the mainland imagination. The narrative broadens the perspectives of readers about supernatural beings and how literature reflects on cultural representations. Barker (2000) calls such culturally-constituted expressions “signifying practices of representation” (p.08) that constitute and function as the cultural strategy to revive the lost folkloric tradition and legends to counter the stereotype.

Also, the village, which exists outside the reach of common people, and those who are in the dire need can only find it, seems to come from a legend “the village of Meriezou was legendary among the Angamis; it was the seat of culture, the birthplace of many famed seers, and people still sought it out for answers. But the more adventurous and the needy traveled to the Village of Seers.” (Don’t Run, 81) The northeastern region of India follows many ancient traditions of religious beliefs and spiritual practices that have been essential aspects of their culture. The village plays an important role as a repository of their cultural beliefs in the interplay between natural and supernatural, as the village erases the difference “between the natural and the supernatural.” (Don’t Run, 83) At the Village of Sheers, both mother and daughter witness the supernatural activities taking place at night which further reflects the Naga’s belief in the parallel existence of the spiritual and natural world.

They heard ululating in the distance and, as they waited, a group of warriors appeared waving spears and prancing about in mock battle steps. While one line of warriors jumped forward with spears upheld as if to challenge an invisible foe, the other group went a step forward at the same very moment as if to avoid a spear thrust. It was a macabre dance executed very slowly.’

Pfunuo returned to their room.

‘None of that is real, mind you. Don’t be deceived, and don’t ever run out to watch. It’s hard to save a human life when a spirit spear finds its target. (Don’t Run, 94)

Through the figure of Kevi and such belief systems from the folklore, the writer revives and establishes the Naga community’s cultural economy. Through it, she also re-examines preconceptions, misconceptions, and erroneous stereotypes associated with the Northeast. Here Kire transforms the imaginary into reality in an attempt to hold together and make meaning to their existence in a situation of disintegration and fragmentation. According to Marcus, (1986) “ethnography originates in orality” (p.264-265), and it is actively “situated between powerful systems of meaning. It poses its questions at the boundaries of civilizations, cultures, classes, races, and genders. Ethnography decodes and recodes, telling the grounds of collective order and diversity, inclusion and exclusion. It describes processes of innovation and structuration, and is itself part of these processes.” (Clifford, 1986, p. 2-3) Through such strategy, she unsettles the dichotomous cultural narratives and “rewrite cultural narratives… [where she] use[s] alternative signifying practices and bold refigurations to undo cultural iconographies and unsettle the status quo of habitual cultural codes.” (Schwab, 2012, p.02)

An identical political and cultural framework becomes evident in the Sky is My Father. Structurally, the novel can be divided into two sections, i.e., the first part is about the lost cultural past and practices that define the Naga communities’ cultural rootedness and identity. The second part is about the narrative construction of colonial experiences. The first part leads towards the second part when the reader experiences political and cultural developments. As a result, the text becomes more of a postcolonial text depicting colonial domination, the effects of conversion, and the slow death of indigenous culture.

In this text, Kire locates her subjects within a colonial phase and charts anti-colonial historiography through the means of historical events, language, conceptual framework, and experiences of the tribal people. The first part represents the lost cultural past that the text attempts to reclaim by textualization. It opens with an assertion that the Naga community is a male dominant community that does not take women as equal to males. It is a masculine society where women are kept in their designated places and not allowed to participate in issues considered masculine. Their patriarchal ideology gets further reflected when they hold important meetings or “talk at the thehou, the community house, often centered around what was called man’s talk. No women were allowed to come to the thehou or enter the male dormitories. Reminiscing about hunts and battles in the past made the thehou a place where any youth with a man’s heart inside him would linger and listen or add his stories as well.” (Sky, 07)

Similarly, male dormitories, a central social and cultural institution of the Naga community, are used to inculcate social behavior and moral code among children to train them as socially responsible beings of the tribe. It is a communal place meant to help the young learn skills like hunting, crafting, building a house, etc., and the values of the tribe are passed on to the next generation. It provides a sense of security and a feeling of community that helps to ensure the longevity of the tribe and its culture. It brings the community together with a sense of relatedness. This place acts as a repository of collective and shared consciousness of the society that gets transferred among children of the tribe through educational pedagogy. The author shares one of the teachings of dormitories;

the key to right living- avoiding excess in anything- be content with your share of land and fields. People who move boundary stones bring death upon themselves. Every individual has a social obligation to the village. When you are older and your hearts are strong within you, you will take on the responsibility of guarding the village while others will go out to earn a great name for our village. (Sky, 30)

Pedagogically, the children are educated in the history and cultural components of the tribe by recounting legends and events of the past, as “the past is an integral part of the present where the oral informs the written in that the creative writers redefine ethnic-cultural identities in reprocessing cultural memory.” (Zama, 2013, p.06)

Memories constitute dialogic processes in public spaces. It articulates some particular past and brings together two different spaces and times. As a result, it is multi-dimensional and trans-cultural by nature. Remembering a specific event from the past reprocesses a cultural past and its practices. It is through their struggle against time and forgetfulness in an oral environment that such strategies become essential to remember, learn, and carry forward. The author recounts one such village gathering when Vipie states, “the village has not been feasted so well since Nikerhe’s title-taking feast,’…… Nikerhe had feasted the village some fifteen years ago. But many were too young to remember that. Nikerhe’s paternal relatives of Kigwe village had herded down five excellent cows for his feast.” (Sky, 28) It is a close-knit community system where everyone participates and contributes to village function as “Keviselie’s kinsmen and friends had gifted him nine heads of cattle. The village talked about Keviselie’s Feast of Merit for a long time to come.” (Sky, 28) It is through recounting such events that the past is kept alive in the memories of people that later gets transferred to the young generation as the continuity of a tradition is “ensured by passing down shared traditions, customs, language and social norms or culture from generation to generation.” (Mukhim 2006, p.183) This process of remembering needs to be understood within the context of colonization and the erasure of the Naga culture at the time of the high point of cultural colonization[ii].

Not only cultural practices but tales also get textualized where they are recounted and transferred to the next generation to bridge the gap between past and present, and to generate cultural consciousness among young minds. One incident of Vikhwelle, who “came back six days after he went missing, bone-thin and near death. He had a terrifying tale to tell. Tall, dark creatures had carried him off against his will, keeping him for days altogether”, contextualizes the existence of the spirits that belong to folklore. (Sky, 37) Similarly, the folktale of Kirhupfumi, of “two women who could never wed” (Sky, 51) is used to exemplify the existence of a supernatural spirit and is used as an example of the consequences of disregarding genna days that would lead to death. The Naga community believes that both the human and spirit world exist together and various kinds of spirits that are believed to dwell in water bodies, stone, and the jungle, are worshipped by them.

Likewise, storytelling is an essential component of folk culture. As in almost every culture, storytelling is a quintessential part of the growing-up experience of every child in India. “Storytelling is a living art” and in many societies, it is a means of ‘educating and training children from childhood. (Rollins, 1957, p.165) It acts as a pedagogical technique to impart cultural, moral, social, and historical literacy to the audience. Kire deploys the storytelling technique to bring into context the forgotten traditions and customs of the Naga tribe to assert their cultural economy. Atunuo tells the story of her deceased paternal grandfather who offered a feast to the four villages, and later “the four monoliths erected after each feast of merit were set up on the way to the fields. People passed them every day when they went to the fields. They rested at the foot of the monoliths and recounted the feasts of Kezharuoko, using those moments to recall the great man’s name.” (Don’t Run, 08) The memory of the feast and the feast function as a process of building fraternity, collectivity, community, and also one’s identity as individual memory transforms into collective memory after a point of time. Erecting a monolith acts as synonymous with the Feast of Merit, or what Jay Winter (2010) would call “sites of memory”, which stands as a symbol of the living history of grandfather Kezharuoko and the rich cultural heritage of the Naga people. (p.312) As spoken by Visenuo, such cultural memories revive lost cultural traditions that most Nagas, especially the Angami-Nagas, have practiced for ages. In this story, cultural memory, legends, and past interactions with each other in a meaningful dialogic manner that produces a meaningful understanding of the Naga communities’ vibrant cultural past and the importance of feast, as Easterine Kire puts it;

the Feast of Merit was to the Nagas, what the educational degree is to present-day students… It was partly the generous philosophy of feeding the poor and sharing of [the] wealth of the entire population, but in most cases, the competitive spirit to climb the ladder of social recognition that prompted the tribal rich people to perform the series of [the] feast of merit and honor round which the wheels of Naga Society revolved…. it is on the feast he has given that his social status depends. (Cited in Patton. Contemporary Naga Writings: Reclamation of Culture and History through Orality)

Memory and identity are interrelated and complementary to each other. It is a way to examine an individual and a society within the context of present conditions, lost time, and history. For many thinkers, memory is socially constructed. (Halbwachs, 1968; Candau, 1996; Tonkin, 1992; Rampazi, 1991) Within cultural anthropology, Pool (2016) categorizes memories into two types, i.e., cultural memories- related to cultural practices and lost culture- and political memories- related to the effects of colonization that have caused the erasure of the indigenous culture. According to Cappelleto (2003), individual memories have the capacity to transform into collective memory. It broadens the scope of communication, and as performative, a dialogic process is shared among various groups. Collective memories represent the collective consciousness of the past that helps to understand and interpret the present and orients towards the future. Also, it preserves the events, incidents, images, symbols, etc., that help to counter the identity crisis. It is not only an expression but also performative in which identities are performatively constructed. It functions as the multiple modes of beings that shape the present and future as historically rooted, as Brady (1982) states “memory is used in literature to relate the present to the past.” (p.200) It helps to chart a meta-historical account of Naga communities by bringing into the context the “transgenerational memory.” (Schwab, 2012, p.04)

Storytelling disseminates the cultural epistemologies to the young in oral form. The cultural beliefs and knowledge associated with itis shared with the next generation to empower them with knowledge. Such transfers take place through the oral form in a conversational manner. Visenuo shares such knowledge with her daughter;

‘Your grandfather used to say that a house needs a fire. The smoke from the fire strengthens the walls and helps it stay in place for a longer time. When a house is abandoned, it falls apart very soon. The house was missing its owner, that is what we say when that happens.’

‘You know so many things Azuo,’ Atuonuo said. ‘I wish I knew half the things you do.’

‘Well I only know the things that the village has taught me from childhood, and try to pass them on to you. Do you know that some people are called thehou nuo?

‘What does that mean?’

‘Since the thehou is the communal house where men spend their nights, thehou nuo means child of the thehou. The boys who have been brought up in that tradition learn things about our culture. They use it to guide them through life and when people see them behaving in certain way, people refer to them as thehou nuo. A girl can also earn such a title when people see that she knows the ways of the village.’ (Don’t Run, 18-19)   

The author abundantly employs vernacular expressions in both the texts that reflect the creative richness of the culture and marks a creative disruption in the form of the reading experience of a reader who does not belong to the Naga culture. Culturally-constituted native expressions like tekhumevi, kepenuopfu, kichuki, thehou, thehou nuo, dahou, japan nha, kephou, Tekhumevimia, Kelipie, Terhunyi, Sekrenyi, nuou, etc., reflect their cultural landscapes and cultural-specific-expressions. Walter J. Ong, in his Orality and Literacy: The Technologizing of the World (2002), contends that orality is a mode of consciousness. It is a distinctive method of acquiring, sustaining, managing, and verbalizing knowledge that he identifies as, “primary oral cultures.” (Ong, 2002 p. 01). It is a culture “with no knowledge at all of [the] writing” (Ong, 2002 p. 01), as it is historically and culturally rooted and is not affected by the use of print culture, considered to be modern and progressive. His argument is based on the cultural differences between the two communicative orders, orality and literacy. According to Ong, changes in human thought processes and advancement have led to the spread of literacy. It has altered the human consciousness. In his model, once literacy is introduced the primary oral culture gradually disappears. For him, this transition from oral to literacy is based on a paradoxical process as he states, “this awareness is agony for persons rooted in primary orality, who want literacy passionately but who also know very well that moving into the exciting world of literacy means leaving behind much that is exciting and deeply loved in the earlier oral world. We have to die to continue living.” (Ong, 2002, p. 14)

It is through this dialectical tension to preserve the oral form amid the spread of literacy that the writer employs such culturally-rooted indigenous expressions in the dialect form. Such local idioms of expressions, as values and practices, are embedded in the Naga community’s social and cultural practices. Politically, such linguistic expressions provide authenticity of representation to the local realities. Also, it accentuates associated sensibilities and preconceptions around northeast India and functions as a tool of cultural critique to challenge the normative. Simultaneously, it plays an important role in establishing an identity based on language and culture. Language plays a paramount role in ethnographic studies to understand and establish the authenticity of a particular culture, as Barker (2000) states that “language gives meaning to material objects and social practices that are brought into view by language and made intelligible to us in terms which language delimits. These processes of meaning production are signifying practices. In order to understand [a] culture, one needs to explore how meaning is produced symbolically in language as a ‘signifying system.” (p.07-08) The relation of native language, its communal connection, and its relation to self-identity is the “key to cultural identity.” (Thong, 2000, p.05)

Furthermore, vernacular, as a cultural component, functions as a challenge to cultural imperialism and exposes the limits of nationhood. Kire’s usage of vernacular implies the dominance of orality in her culture that she politically and consciously textualizes in the text, as the purpose of ethnography is not only to represent but also it is the ‘invention…of cultures’ (Clifford, 1986, p. 2) that seem to have been lost in a mono-vocal representation of India’s northeast. It involves a translation of a culture into a text that can be read as a representative text, as “ethnography is inescapably a textual enterprise[iii].” (Atkinson & Hammersley, 2007, p.191)

Similarly, ethnographic ideology “draws attention to aspects of cultural description” (Clifford, 1986, p.100), that have been erased or minimized. Such descriptions indicate more metaphorical and allegorical meanings associated with events or incidents. It draws attention to the cultural representation through which the political gets embedded in the representation of temporal events. This is reflected in the twist in the plot of Don’t Run. The twist changes its narrative from a possible love story to that of a chase and pursuit narrative where a young woman refuses a male and his advances that result in his ego-hurt. In a patriarchal environment, any kind of resistance is not allowed, so Atuonuo’s refusal to accede to Kevi’s proposal led to physical violence. He clutched her from behind when she visited her hut and “blood spurted out from the cuts on her arm where he had sunk in his nails.” (Don’t Run, 69) In the mysterious and serene environment, the violence that percolates in the lives of central characters dissipates the naive structure of the plot. Rather, it allegorically represents the violence, literal as well as metaphorical, that has come to define the northeastern states of India in recent times. Allegory provides a double edge of meanings, of descriptive surface and deeper levels of meaning. Violence, which both, Atuonuo and Kevi experience, can be termed as an allegory[iv] of gender relationships and material reality. It is an attempt to dominate the ‘other’ that leads to violence that draws on the similitude in this context. Such violence and disturbing relationship can be read as symbolically representing the mainland politics, where the Northeast and its people have “undergone historical and political trauma of untold suffering and marginalization.” (Zama, 2013, p. xi)

Similarly, in the second part of Sky is My Father, Kire politically locates the Naga tribe’s colonial past in the heat of the anti-colonial struggle. It recounts historical events of the year 1879 when the Naga villagers countered the British invasion, and the war led to the burning of their Khonoma village, “the thatch roofs had burnt easily but the posts of houses took a long time to burn out completely. Finally, half-burnt posts and ashes were all that remained, blackening the whole site. This was the punishment of a proud people who had dared to control their destinies.” (Sky, 108)

It depicts the heroic struggle of the Naga tribe against the British colonization and religious conversion that was initiated by the missionaries like Dr. Sidney Rivenburg. Kire archaeologically identifies a historical moment, in a widely shared story, that eventually leads to the spread of Christianity in the Naga community, and in the Northeast of India. It is captured through an experience of a soldier who witnesses spirits during his night shift while on duty. Next day when Dr. Sidney Rivenburg inquires him about his witnessing spirits during the night;

The soldier confessed to a nightly experience of seeing, near the water source, a spirit that grew larger and larger till he stood as big as mountain before he disappeared from view. Rivenburg instructed the soldier to wake him if he saw the spirit again. The next night, when the soldier sighted the spirit, he woke Rivenburg and they walked to the river source together. The spirit showed itself again but this time, the spirit miraculously grew smaller and smaller till it disappeared altogether. The soldier was amazed by this and became a Christian thereafter. (Sky, 117-118)

This incident is marked as the beginning and spreading of the Christian faith in the Northeast of India. Levi’s death, who stands for an archetypal Naga figure, who represented and followed the teachings and values of Naga culture, signifies the end of resistance to colonial powers. With his death, the Naga culture also started dying which is allegorically presented through his son Sato’s conversion. Christian Missionary gradually wiped out the indigenous culture and people drifted towards them. It lured people in the guise of modernity as “in 1897, Sato was nearly nineteen when the first man of Khonoma was baptized. (Sky, 121) Levi’s desire to maintain cultural independence from religious colonization is juxtaposed with Sato’s desire to convert to Christianity. Levi’s death marks a symbolic shift from old tribal ways to new modern and Christian ways of the world. It is a society where norms of conduct, institutions of beliefs, and cultural practices are falling apart. The passing away of traditional Naga culture is presented from the perspective of a dying culture under the adverse impact of an alien culture.

 Similarly, conversion into Christianity and not choosing any other mainland religion can be seen as a deliberate political stand that the people of the northeast take. It can be deduced from such action that the experiences of people of northeast India with mainland socio-political culture have not resulted in positive development. The continuation of conflict in various forms, political dissent, armed resistance, unprecedented levels of violence, dense militarisation, enactment of laws that transformed the Naga highland into a special state of exception, etc., and “the domination and overrule they experienced at the hands of the Indian state” (Wouters, 2018, xii) have given rise to disenchantment among the people of northeast India. Such repressive techniques/ methods of rules can lead to many forms of resistance where the massive acceptance of Christianity by the native tribes of Nagaland can also be seen as a collective act of resistance. This conversion to Christianity can be considered to be one of the most important historical events in the Naga imagination that fostered “a pan Naga identity” (Baruah, 2007, 106). Sato’s conversion captures this historical process and the end of the text depicts the accelerated process of religious conversions as “the number of converts was steadily growing at the Mission.” (Sky, 145) Sato, who wanted to be “a follower of Isu” (Sky, 120), finds similarities between their deities and Jesus and creates a discourse of religious compatibility and similarities that seemed to be used for conversion in northeast India. This conversion to Christian identity keeps them “apart from the mostly Hindu and Muslim population of the Indian heartland (and) has been partly an act of resistance that parallel the political and armed resistance.” (Baruah, 2007, 110)

Conclusion

Kire reconstructs and recuperates Naga’s past by deconstructing counterfeit or biased narratives that were imposed on them. It comes out as a kind of meta-historiography, representing cultural and historical tragedy. It is through the imagined ethnographic account of the Naga tribe, with a careful excavation of historical accounts and scholarly engagement with it, that Kire asserts a vibrant Naga culture and represents the politics of the region. Kire’s texts come out as politically conscious attempts in terms of their historical-rootedness, ethnocultural struggle against the postcolonial situation, to counter popular misconceptions and mark its presence in the cultural and literary imagination of mainland politics. It focuses on the state of condition, contexts, experiences, and the limitation of what Benedict Anderson (2006) would call the ‘imagined community’ of a nation. As an ethnographic account of the Naga community and their ways of life, Kire can deal with various issues. Kire deploys an ethnographic framework to establish cultural epistemologies of the Naga community through the legend of ‘were-tiger’, folkloric tales, cultural symbols, activities, traditions, customs, historical accounts of anti-colonial struggle, and conversion to Christianity, etc. Through her writings, Kire not only rewrites cultures but also formulates culture by using discursive and aesthetic practices. “Textualization is at the heart of the ethnographic enterprise” (Marcus, 1986, 264) and her texts are based on “indigenous cultural categories” and “folk models.” (Atkinson & Hammersley, 2007, 191 and 194) Her “texts (act) as imaginary ethnographies, that is as texts that write culture by inventing a language that redraws the boundaries of imaginable worlds and by providing thick descriptions of the desires, fears, and fantasies that shape the imaginary lives and cultural encounters of invented protagonists.” (Schwab, 2012, 02)

This study helps to understand the connection between power and cultural politics that can be utilized to bring cultural changes. Kire establishes the Naga culture by representing various cultural epistemologies through her texts. Both the texts, act on a similar ground of recuperating, reviving, and establishing their gradually forgotten culture and historical past of their heroic struggle against the British invasion. She uses memory and remembering to contextualize and bring into context past epistemologies to consolidate a present sense of cultural rootedness. Cultural politics allows literature to intervene at a linguistic, cultural, and epistemological level. Through the methodology of imagined ethnography, Kire textualizes the indigenous struggle against stereotype and colonial domination, reclaims cultural epistemologies, and redefines the geo-spatial pluralities of the Northeast of India. By positioning her characters within a geopolitical situation, she attempts to decolonize the essentialized imaginary powers of hegemony that define the Northeast as primitive and a conflict-ridden space. The ethnographic framework helps her to establish the Naga community’s cultural economy as the ethnographic framework “has provided [her] a vehicle for the voicing and preservation of stories and memories that have long been excluded from hegemonic discourses of cultural and collective memory” (Leggott, 2004, 13).

Declaration of Conflict of Interests

The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest.

Funding

The publication of this paper is supported by the Institute of Eminence (IoE), Banaras Hindu University, Varanasi.

End-notes

[i] Baruah, Sanjib. Durable Disorder: Understanding the Politics of Northeast India. Oxford University Press. (2007).

[ii] According to Indian Express-News of January 7, 2018, “Nagaland is known as “the only predominantly Baptist state in the world” and more than 90 percent of the Naga people identify themselves as Christian.” https://indianexpress.com/article/north-east-india/nagaland/in-christian-nagaland-indigenous-religion-of-pre-christian-nagas-withstand-test-of-time-5010777/

[iii] Ethnography is a process of data collection for analysis. It is produced in written form through the medium of language. Similarly writing any imaginative text, or otherwise, requires data. In this sense, writing any text and writing ethnography involve textual enterprise as they both involve a process of textualization for analysis. Hence, the producer of an ethnography becomes a writer of a text, producing a narrative. See. Atkinson, Paul, and Martyn Hammersley. (2007). “Writing Ethnographies.” Ethnography: Principles in practice. London and New York. Routledge, 191-208.

[iv] Clifford, James. “On Ethnographic Allegory.” Writing Culture: The Poetics and Politics of Ethnography. Ed. James Clifford and George E. Marcus. University of California Press, London. 1986.

References

Atkinson, Paul, and Martyn Hammersley. (2007). Writing Ethnographies. In Ethnography: Principles in practice. London and New York. Routledge, 191-208.

Barker, Chris. (2020). An Introduction to Cultural Studies. In Cultural Studies: Theory and Practice. London. Sage Publications, 3-31.

Baruah, Sanjib. (2007). Confronting Constructionism. In Durable Disorder: Understanding the Politics of Northeast India. India. Oxford University Press, 98-121.

—, Preface. 1-24.

Brady, Patrick. (1982). Memory and Form: The Textual Status and Function of Literary Recollection. Nineteenth-Century French Studies, Spring-Summer 1982, Vol. 10, No. 3/4 (Spring—Summer 1982), pp. 199-214. University of Nebraska Press. Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/23536455

Cappelletto, Francesca. (2003). Long-Term Memory of Extreme Events: From Autobiography to History. Royal Anthropological Institute (N.S.) 9. P. 241-260. https://rai.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1111/1467-9655.00148

Clifford, James. (1986). On Ethnographic Allegory.  In James Clifford and George E. Marcus (Eds.). Writing Culture: The Poetics and Politics of Ethnography. London. University of California Press, 98-121.

Gray, Ann. (2003). Grasping Lived Cultures. In Research Practice for Cultural Studies: ethnographic methods and lived cultures. London. Sage Publications, 1-24.

Hall, Stuart. (2016). Culture, Resistance and Struggle. In Jennifer Daryl Slack and Lawrence Grossberg (Eds.). Cultural Studies 1983: A Theoretical History. Durham and London. Duke University Press, 180-206

Kallol Dey. (2018, January 7). In Christian Nagaland, indigenous religion of pre-Christian Nagas withstands test of time. Indian Express. https://indianexpress.com/article/north-east-india/nagaland/in-christian-nagaland-indigenous-religion-of-pre-christian-nagas-withstand-test-of-time-5010777/

Kire, Easterine. (2017). Don’t Run, My Love. New Delhi. Speaking Tiger.

Kire, Easterine. (2018). Sky Is My Father: A Naga Village Remembered. New Delhi. Speaking Tiger.

Leggott Sarah. (2004). Re-membering Self and Nation: Memory and Life-Writing in Works by Josefina Aldecoa. Confluencia, Spring 2004, Vol. 19, No. 2 (Spring 2004), pp. 11-20. University of Northern Colorado. Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/27922990.

Marcus, George, E. (1986). Afterword: Ethnographic Writing and Anthropological Careers. James In Clifford and George E. Marcus (Eds.). Writing Culture: The Poetics and Politics of Ethnography. London. University of California Press, 262-266.

Mukhim, Patricia. (2006). Where is this Northeast? In Geeti Sen (Ed). Where the Sun Rise When Shadows Fall: The North-East. New Delhi. Oxford University Press, 177–188.

Nayar, Pramod. (2011). Towards a postcolonial critical literacy: Bhimayana and the Indian graphic novel. Studies in South Asian Film and Media. Volume 3, Number, 1. P. 2-21.

Ong, Walter, J. (2002). Introduction. In Orality and Literacy: The Technologizing of the World. London & New York. Routledge: Tylor and Francis, 1-3.

—-, The orality of language. 5-16.

Patton, Jasmine. Contemporary Naga Writings: Reclamation of Culture and History through Orality. https://www.thecuriousreader.in/features/naga-writings/

Rollins, Charlemae. (1957). StoryTelling – Its Value and Importance. Elementary English, March, 1957, Vol. 34, No. 3, Creative Writing and Story Telling for Today’s Schools (March, 1957), pp. 164-166. National Council of Teachers of English. Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/41384579

Said, Edward. (1979). Imaginative Geography and Its Representations: Orientalizing the Oriental. In Orientalism. New York. Vintage Books, 49-72.

Sarkar, Sumit. (1997). Identity and Difference: Caste in the Formation of the Ideologies of Nationalism and Hindutva. In Writing Social History. Delhi. Oxford University Press, 358-390.

Schwab, Gabrielle. (2012). Introduction. In Imaginary Ethnographies: Literature, Culture and Subjectivity. New York. Columbia University Press, 1- 23.

Sen, Soumen. (1987). An Introduction: Folk-songs of the North-Eastern Hills. Indian Literature, July-August, 1987, Vol. 30, No. 4 (120) (July-August, 1987), pp. 11-16. Sahitya Akademi. Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/23337032

Thong, Tezenlo. (2016). Introduction. In Colonization, Proselytization and Identity. USA. Palgrave Macmillan, 1-15.

Venkatesan, V. (1989). Review: State Politics and North-East India: Emerging Trends and Theory Building. Reviewed Work(s): A Century of Government and Politics in North-East India. Vol. l (Assam). Vol. ll (Meghalaya). Vol. lll (Mizoram) by Venkata Rao, Niru Hazarika, Barrister Pakem and H. Thansanga. The Indian Journal of Political Science, Jan- March 1989, Vol. 50, No. 1 (Jan- March 1989), pp. 128-134. Indian Political Science Association. Stable URL:  Stable URL:  https://www.jstor.org/stable/41855412.   

Winter, Jay. (2010). Sites of Memory. Memory: Histories, Theories, Debates. Susannah Radstone and Bill Schwarz (Eds.). Fordham University Press. Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt1c999bq.25.

Wouters, J. P. Jelle. (2018). Introduction: The Shadows of Naga Insurgency. In the Shadows of Naga Insurgency: Tribes, State, and Violence in Northeast India. Delhi. Oxford University Press, 1-37.

Zama, Margaret Ch. (2013). Introduction. In Emerging Literatures from Northeast India: The Dynamics of Culture, Society and Identity. New Delhi. Sage Publication, xi-xx.

Dr. Shiv Kumar is an Assistant professor in Department of English, Faculty of Arts at Benares Hindu University, Varanasi.  He did his graduation and master’s in English from the University of Delhi and pursued his M.Phil in Gerontology and Ph.D. in Dalit autobiographies from Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi. His research areas include Dalit writings, writings from the Northeast of India, literature from marginality, Hispanic writings, Grey Areas, and Indian writings. He has also presented papers at national and international conferences and published in the same areas.

The Anatomy of Peace: A Reading of How to Tell the Story of an Insurgency

////
4.1K views

Abantika Dev Ray

Department of English, Assam University, Silchar. Email: adr1492@gmail.com

Rupkatha Journal, Vol. 14, Issue 2, April-June, 2022. Pages 1-10. https://doi.org/10.21659/rupkatha.v14n2.ne35

First published: June 30, 2022 | AreaNortheast India | LicenseCC BY-NC 4.0

(This article is published under Themed Issue on Literature of Northeast India)
Full-Text HTML Full-Text PDF Cite
PlumX Metrics

Abstract

This paper aims to study the traumatic impact of violence in the late twentieth century Assam, caused primarily by the unresolved conflict between popular ethno-nationalist demands of an independent, ‘Swadhin’ Assam and retaliatory steps of the Centre. The short story anthology, How to Tell the Story of an Insurgency edited by Aruni Kashyap will be considered chiefly, to understand the deep-seated, sometimes ‘belated’ occurrence of trauma on people’s lives, which often resisted representation. Cathy Caruth argues that the belated occurrence of trauma may be linked to what remains unknown/unsaid in our actions and language. Robert Eaglestone mentions that our linguistic registers may prove inadequate to represent traumatic experiences. People’s trauma in Assam was worsened by the disciplinary actions imposed to restrain revolutionary acts. Foucault described ‘discipline’ as a “type of power, a modality for its exercise”. People lived in a panopticon, gradually becoming disillusioned about the cause. Between ideology and peace, they chose the latter. Thus, reading these polyphonic stories using the theoretical discourse of trauma will help to locate the phenomenon in the social, political and cultural history of Assam, to see how people emerged out of conflict by opting for relative peace.

Keywords: Violence, traumatic neurosis, ethno-nationalism, disillusionment.

Introduction

The process of nation-building in post-colonial, independent India faced perhaps one of its greatest challenges from Northeast India. One of the primary reasons for this was the linear direction of the policy-making processes that often seemed to ignore the concerns and interests of the people inhabiting the area since a long time. Besides, in the newly-created northeastern region, there were problems of underdevelopment, poverty and lack of economic opportunities which had been issues of discontent even in the pre-Independence era. Additionally, the attempts of the Indian nation-state to integrate the Northeast into the Indian ‘mainstream’ in the years immediately following Independence were viewed with “antagonism and distrust by the region as a whole and the hill areas in particular” (Misra, 2014, p. 5). The Partition of the country, therefore, did not bring a closure to the problems that plagued the region, since most indigenous peoples within the region began to demand freedom from the ‘colonial’ clutches of the Indian nation-state and also, their own share of sovereignty.

Under these circumstances, the region also witnessed the rise of fringe groups of dissatisfied people whose demands for sovereignty soon came to represent the myriad issues that had been troubling the region. Among the many such groups, ULFA (United Liberation Front of Assam) was one of the most important ones that not only represented the wishes and aspirations of the Assamese, but also of the indigenous people of the region. Nani Gopal Mahanta (2013) comments that “ULFA represents a mindset, a suppressed voice which is deeply engrained in Assam’s psyche” (p. xvi). Initially, this group upheld people’s views and was supported by common people; ULFA transcended the narrow ethnic appeal of the term ‘Assamese’ and appeared as an alternative voice to that of the Centre’s (Baruah, 2020). Soon however, their activities were overtaken by violence and they gradually lost the initial fervour because of the indiscriminate bomb blasts and killings in the region. The nature of the revolution being primarily violent, people were affected and traumatized severely when retaliatory steps, including disciplinary actions, were taken by the Centre to curb these ethno-nationalistic demands. The violence and trauma arising out of this contention may have led people to choose relative peace – since their support to the cause was gradually beginning to be replaced by disillusionment. My paper aims to study people’s choice of relative peace over ideology, with the help of How to Tell the Story of an Insurgency – a short story collection edited by Aruni Kashyap. It also intends to consider the effects of trauma on common people, which may be said to have primarily facilitated the choice for eventual peace in Assam.

Trauma and Its Manifestations

‘Trauma’, originally derived from the Ancient Greek word for ‘wound’, and referring to a physical injury, later came to signify traces left on the mind by catastrophic, painful events. The implication of the word in recent times has gone far beyond its medical usage, and begun to assume a cultural significance. Its impact is so huge that “over the past few decades, the term has spread so that our entire global culture is sometimes characterized as traumatic or post-traumatic” (Davis & Meretoja, 2020, p. 1).

The years of unresolved conflict between the Centre and the dissatisfied groups of people regarding the central demand of achieving a ‘Swadhin’ or independent Assam turned into a traumatic period in the history of Assam. Consequently, people began to be afraid of secret killings which would supposedly establish peace in the area. In Assam of the 1990s, there were a set of defections, in which amnesty programmes by the Central government looked for the rehabilitation of ULFA cadres and their reintegration into society. These people came to be known as S(Surrendered)ULFA. Sanjib Baruah in his book In the Name of the Nation mentions the testimony of Angshuman Choudhury who points out that this policy “was one of co-opting the surrendered militants into its elaborate security wheel as informants against their former comrades” (Baruah, 2020, p. 131). Choudhury also mentions that the death squad killings in Assam occurred at the height of the Sulfa phenomenon. The government not only held control over the lives of the people in this way but also encouraged the independent ventures of SULFA. Thus, people began to turn against each other – it was quite difficult to determine the motives behind the killings and extortions. People’s experiences of living in this politically charged ambience resulted in immense trauma. Deriving from the idea of Giorgio Agamben’s‘bare life’, Amit R. Baishya (2019) writes that people’s lives in Assam were reduced to bare life during and after this crisis, since “the incessant shuttle between bare life and the centralized mode of the sovereign” defined people’s lives in Assam (p. 2). The trauma of living a bare life, in addition to being victimized by the play of power, was a common phenomenon in Assam during this period.

However, sometimes it took time for the trauma to manifest in people. Davis and Meretoja (2020) write that the manifestation of trauma sometimes happens when the past resurfaces in the present – through “indirect symptoms, silences and repetitive patterns of thought and affect” (p. 3). Cathy Caruth (1996) mentions that trauma “describes an overwhelming experience of sudden or catastrophic events in which the response to the event occurs in the often delayed, the uncontrolled repetitive appearance of hallucinations and other intrusive phenomena” (p. 11). In How to Tell the Story of an Insurgency, the first story named ‘Surrender’ (written by Anuradha Sharma Pujari, translated by Aruni Kashyap) explicates this point. Dipok, the central protagonist, has been associated previously with an underground organization with sub-nationalist demands. Although it has not been mentioned directly in the story, yet the references seem to insinuate that he now belongs to the group of nationalists who had ‘surrendered’ to the government. Dipok discloses the whereabouts of one of his former mates to the police. However, this only happens as a resolution of the traumatic experience that he has before – when he is triggered by his wife Sondhya into assaulting her. In an accidental turn of events at the beginning of the story, Dipok slaps his four-year-old daughter and is called an ‘animal’ by Sondhya, which takes him back to his past life as a militant – “just that one word tore him apart like a whip tears away flesh, and it brought out the old Dipok” (Pujari, 2020, p. 3). The years of service in the organization ended in surrender for Dipok, who still deals with its pressure. The use of the word ‘animal’ unleashes the trauma in him, as he is reminded of the wife of a dead high-ranking officer who had also called him the same. The memories of his time in the organization and his consequent surrender, for which he has often termed an opportunist, seem to come alive in his present time and situation. For a short period of time, he turns extremely violent and almost loses track of his actions. It appears that he is a fly caught in a web which he cannot get out of; he is also reminded of how his brother-in-law calls him a ‘Shikhondi’. Eventually, he realizes that it is at home that he can be at peace, and traces his way back to Sondhya. Dipok’s choice of peace is representative of many such people in similar situations, who wish for a life devoid of trauma. That he is killed the next morning by some of his ex-comrades highlights the irony and pathos of the situation, in which siding with the government acts negatively for him.

The inability to speak about trauma and the resultant silence was exhibited in many people across the region. While some of them reacted belatedly, some others withdrew themselves into silence about the incident. Cathy Caruth (1996) calls this experience ‘unclaimed’ since the pain of the revelations is indefinitely deferred, and therefore the truth of trauma can never be accessible. This experience is beyond comprehension; it resists representation and can only be understood as  “the unsettling effects on the victim’s grasp of reality” (Dean, 2020, p. 116). Trauma, then, is much more than pathology or simple illness of a wounded psyche; it is a wound that cries out time and again and tells an otherwise untold story. The appearance of the truth in trauma is delayed and may be linked to not only what is known, but also what is unknown in our very actions and language. Caruth mentions the effects of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) on human minds. It is the overwhelming experience of a sudden or catastrophic event on the mind, which includes an often uncontrolled, repetitive appearance of hallucinations and other disturbing phenomena. In other words, PTSD reflects the “direct imposition on the mind of the unavoidable reality of horrific events, the taking over of the mind, psychically and neurobiologically, by an event that it cannot control” (Caruth, 1996, p. 58). It is the direct link between the psyche and external violence. According to Caruth, trauma is not simply an effect of destruction but also an enigma of survival. Traumatic experience is a paradoxical relation between destructiveness and survival; it is by recognising this paradoxical relation that one may recognise the incomprehensibility that is at the heart of the traumatic experience. The perplexing nature of survival stands out in these traumatic experiences; Caruth suggests that through these repetitions, one also explores what it means to survive. The direct threat to life is not the root of trauma, rather the missing of the experience forms the basis of the repetition of the nightmare. Caruth states that it is because “the mind cannot confront the possibility of its death directly that survival becomes for the human being, paradoxically, an endless testimony to the impossibility of living” (Caruth, 1996, p. 62).

Beji in ‘What Lies over Here?’ (translated by Stuti Goswami), retreated into silence and became unusually grave after her husband is killed in the violence in Assam. Sorukon, her acquaintance and a surrendered rebel is tormented by the traumatic memories of his time in the organization, wondering if Beji’s husband was among the men killed in the rebellion – which he had also voluntarily been part of: “That night, he couldn’t sleep at all. All through the night, he felt as if he was floating above an abyss of blood. As if a deluge of blood had emerged out of the television screen and swept into their room. Could revolution be so cruel? So brutal?” (Pol Deka, 2020, p. 68). Sorukon wonders if he was initially influenced into joining the rebellion by Bipul who was eventually betrayed in course of the revolution. Bipul’s words were mesmerizing to him, and he was drawn towards the ideology automatically. The story mentions the cracks within the organization that soon destroyed its original attraction. It also talks about how the innocent were targeted in the course of the revolution. Udayon Misra (2014) mentions ULFA’s attack on Bihari brick-kiln workers and Hindi-speaking tradesmen in Tinsukia and Dibrugarh as he writes, “Clearly the ULFA had chosen the softest of targets to put its message across to the state and central governments that it still has the capacity to strike at will and make a mockery of the state’s law and order” (p. 209). Sorukon passes each day trying to recover from the agony of being a rebel once and living an ordinary life now; his young wife Sewali occasionally takes him away from the bane of his previous life, as it were. Disillusionment overcomes him as he thinks of his former comrades who had sided with the police to loot and swindle the wealth of the state. Violence and extortion thus became the order of the day; at some point, it overtook the spirit of the revolution. For Sorukon however, being alive is a reminder of his past and his proximity to death, until he is finally killed, while the rest of his family are away.

It may also be useful to mention Robert Eaglestone’s point about the appropriation of trauma both by the writer and the reader. Since trauma is difficult to be grasped fully, given that it deals with the very subtle and nuanced notions of good, evil, suffering, justice, etc., one should also be aware of the ‘right to write’ or its lack thereof. Traumatic experiences appear to be a ‘limit case’ of language – they have an effect so deep that only to name it means engaging with it. These experiences demand a deeper ethical engagement and thus, trauma becomes difficult to be represented in language. Several people in Assam – both ordinary men and women and surrendered/reformed militants undergo the process, and therefore the silence regarding this is noteworthy. In ‘The Vigil’ written by Jahnavi Barua, a mother is caught between two extremes; while one of her sons is a policeman, the other is a militant. The dilemma that Nirmala faces is representative of many people in Assam during the time. She supplies food to her truant son secretly, and while her other son knows nothing of it, he cannot mention his brother in his family. It is a space that is forever empty and never talked about by either mother or son. However, they hope that the lost son would be back someday and live peacefully with them. It is ironical to note that the very revolution which was a beacon of hope turned into a source of disappointment for many a few years later. It seemed to demand more sacrifices than it initially promised or set out to achieve, and quite often the lives of young people in Assam were at stake in this unfair equation.

Initial Causes and Gradual Impacts of the Revolution

Initially, the problems addressed by the nationalist organizations seemed to be of a legitimate concern for the state. The most prominent of them was that of ‘illegal’ migration from Bengal into Assam after the independence of India, which was a major cause of social concern even before Independence. At that point, even though people kept moving within the land, it was legitimate internal migration that changed as soon as there was an international border in between.  However, unlike other nationalist organizations, ULFA had some unique characteristics. Nani Gopal Mahanta writes, “It was the only organization that had representations from all communities, unlike other caste-Hindu or ‘tribal’ organizations” (p.vii). More importantly, it raised the issue of the status of the people of Assam, instead of only Assamese people. Mahanta adds‚ ‘‘At a time when other organisations have taken a bold stand against the immigrants, it has tried to broaden the Assamese nationality by incorporating the immigrants from Bangladesh into the framework of the people of Assam. It has strong anti-India, anti-Delhi stand” (Mahanta, 2020).

Udayon Misra (2014) writes that the “growth of Assamese nationalism has been inextricably tied up with the question of official recognition of the Assamese language” (p. 173). In spite of several nationalities being included in ULFA’s quest for a sovereign Assam, the issue of language gradually began to be considered with more importance, since it was a chief contributory factor to the development of nationalist sentiment and a key marker of one’s identity as an Assamese. This demand for a unilingual identity, in addition to a homogeneous homeland for the Assamese formed a part of the Assamese middle-class quest. ULFA soon realized the difficulties of carving  Assamese identity out of a plural and heterogeneous land like that of Assam, which had diverse ethno-linguistic groups. Misra also writes that the process of Assamese nationality formation was ongoing, with the parameters of Assamese nationality expanding continuously to accommodate new “entrants” (Misra, 2014). Thus, there were the na-Axamiyas or the new Assamese, who were the immigrant Muslims, soon to be defined as people of Assam. Moreover, ULFA could not define its stand clearly on the ‘tribal’ question; it also failed to create a common united national platform for its people. Misra comments that this proved ‘self-defeating’ which might have highlighted its inherent contradictions.

There were some secessionist urges in the minds of a section of the Assamese elite even though it was in a rudimentary form. Initially, anti-Bengali feelings arose in the colonial policy of replacing Assamese with Bengali. In some cases, the Hindu-Bengali was also considered superior to the Assamese population in terms of getting jobs under colonial rule, which led some to believe that the Bengali Hindu was a threat to the Assamese society. These sentiments came to be represented in different regional movements, such as the Language Movement of 1960, and the Anti-Foreigner Movement of 1979-85 (Mahanta, 2020). In the post-Independence era, the strong animosity between the two communities grew, and soon, upholding the Assamese language became synonymous with the consolidation of Assamese national sentiment. To this was added the formerly contentious question of ‘illegal’ immigration. If the desire for ‘Assam for the Assamese’ was harbored by many in the pre-Independence era, who expected that Partition would keep Bengalis out of Assam, it was now thwarted by the continuous arrival of ‘immigrants’. The innocuous immigrant Muslim peasant who was previously an ally against the Bengali-Hindu, now began to be regarded with suspicion, since it appeared that if immigration continued from Bangladesh, the national character and language of the Assamese would soon be lost. Thus, these two issues of language and infiltration forged cultural unity across various strata and would form one of the bases of nationalism in Assam.

Muslims who had lived in Assam all their lives also survived the trauma of being categorized/suspected as immigrants. Often, it was difficult to determine which part of the land they belonged to – since the border ran across the houses of many such people. Maryam Bibi in ‘Maryam’, written by Jayanta Saikia and translated by Maitreyee Siddhanta Chakravarty, is a midwife by profession who was born on the Indian soil which gets shifted across the border after the Partition. Her grandfather, Dadajaan had donated money to set up Assamese schools in Mancachar. Ironically, these people lost their nationality and identity in the wake of the Partition. When Maryam hears two men talking about how the land is taken over by Bangladeshis, memories of her youth spent in a united land come back and she wonders what side of the land she is on. She also ruminates about her family back in present-day Bangladesh whom she has to see from the other side of the fence.

In ‘Charred Paper’ written by Nitoo Das, a group of young men and women prepare to stage a protest march in response to the restrictions imposed on student protests. They protest since they think that the ‘Miyas’ are getting bolder. In the course of the story, some handwritten pamphlets and books are burnt, since a raid by the army is imminent and no one must be found in possession of these seditious items – the ‘charred paper’ of the title carries along with it all revolutionary messages and endeavours. However, the process is relentless. If common people had become accustomed to raids and army operations constantly in the 90s, which created a sense of trauma, the protests against the policies of the government and infiltration continued unabated too. There were two groups of people with a very distinct set of opinions – one which was against the immigrants while the other was fairly moderate. Dani-pehi is a staunch supporter of the nationalist movement who wants the ‘Miyas’ out of the state, but her family members realize that even they have ancestors who were born in present-day Bangladesh. The Muslim rickshaw-puller who is belittled by Dani-pehi saves her from a riot-like situation; later in her family, she is shown the importance of peace, of not being involved with a movement that was essentially secessionist and likely to cause animosity among people of the same land. In this story, nationalist supporters fight in favour of the linguistic supremacy of the Assamese.

‘Koli-Puran’, written by Arup Kumar Nath and translated by Anannya Barua, talks of appalling violence as Aafiya, the young daughter of Monsur Miya, is rescued by Koli very briefly in the midst of a riot. Koli does not believe that the Muslims are ‘foreigners’ who should be sent away from the land, so she hides the young child after her family is killed. She faces its repercussions too, as she is threatened to give the child up and her bun is chopped off when she refuses to do so. She wonders how the revolution could butcher someone like Monsur Miya who had to struggle to make ends meet, and how young Aafiya could have a nationality. She is also pained to hear of the deaths of the two young men, Jali and Bhuli, due to no fault of their own. That common people suffer extremely in the rebellion remains an unchanged condition across various strata of the society. In ‘Colours’ written by Uddipana Goswami, one sees the violation of a woman’s body as a result of a love affair she has with a garden labourer. While her own people assault her because of the affair outside their community, her lover Dambaru is killed. The assault makes Deepti join the nationalist forces in her community; however, the speaker is surprised, wondering why she joins the same people who had killed Dambaru. Deepti, on the other hand, is indoctrinated into militant ideology at the Bodo village she had crawled into after being raped. She wonders if she might surrender since co-opted militants are given advantages by the government too. Deepti’s trauma materializes into a kind of resistance; however, her resistance is different from that of the nationalists.

Disillusionment and Failure: Choice of Peace

It has been widely acknowledged that violence and extortion governed the functioning of ULFA, although initially, it aimed to provide a strong anti-Delhi stance. There was also the question of safeguarding Assamese identity using the National Register for Citizens (NRC) which was an important demand in its negotiation with the Centre. Many other regional parties too demanded the same. Moreover, the group’s Bangladesh connection and taking shelter there alienated it from the people. People thus wondered about the reasons behind three decades of violence and bloodshed, if the ULFA’s demands were ultimately reduced to claims put forward by an essentially regional party. There was also a lack of inner democracy and with the military wing having taken over, the party became “ideologically bankrupt” (Misra, 2014, p. 158) with its support base considerably eroded.

Kaushik Barua’s ‘Run to the Valley’ substantiates the quandary of living under the shadow of the gun in Assam. This was a terror that people experienced at being terrorized by the SULFA cadres and the army at the same time. This story, which has been structured like a dialogue with an invisible listener, narrates a meeting between a group of young boys and the local youth with guns who are identified as the SULFA. The men with guns engage in moral policing the boys who express their desire to leave Assam and study in Delhi. Jango protests this and calls the police, but the outcome is worse because he is in turn humiliated and assaulted by these officers who think he has been extorting money in ULFA’s name. Jango stands up to this incapacitating, nameless fear of being bullied by the gunmen and the army when his friends ‘run to the valley’ to save themselves. The story reflects on this cultural and social paralysis in Assam during the late 20th century, that afflicted several youths at that time. Aruni Kashyap’s The House with a Thousand Stories mentions a similar situation where Prasanta-da tells the narrator Pablo to leave Assam as soon as possible since no good can arise out of a conflict zone. Ironically, the liberation of Assam and its progress seemed to be stalled in the mess of nationalist politics and the retaliatory steps adopted to curb it.

Foucault writes that to govern means to “structure the possible field of action of others” (Foucault, 1982, p. 790). In the equation of power, there is invariably the question of freedom insofar as power is implemented over only those individuals that consider themselves free. People in Northeast India always had an independent spirit. Particularly for the Assamese, the sense of independence was derived from the undefeated and continuous stint of Ahom rule for about 600 years. Thus, the use of power and government diktat came into direct conflict with their wishes and aspirations, and the response to this invariably led to the conflict in the region. In the late twentieth century, it was common for people in Assam to live under surveillance at all times. Gradually, this became similar to living in a ‘panopticon’ at all times – watched and monitored always.

‘Stone People’ written by Manikuntala Bhattacharya and translated by Mitali Goswami, narrates the experiences of the family members of an underground agent who has not been seen since he joined the cause. His sister, who is also the narrator, is now expected to take over the responsibilities of the absent brother. She must also look for him, every time he is seen in the vicinity. His sister mentions other boys who had given up arms and returned home. The search for her brother, on the other hand, is elusive as he constantly seems to move away from them and yet, her parents seem to miss him more with every passing day. As she goes searching for her brother, her bitterness is evident. She also mentions how the dream of a generation had been thwarted due to the movement and also how several such movements have not gathered the response they should have. She is also pained to note that many such young boys and girls are convinced of the revolution, often ignoring their responsibilities to their families. The trauma that many parents face is given a voice in this story: “When people took to the streets to agitate, my father roamed the streets in search of his son” (Bhattacharya, 2020, p. 145). They become, as it were, ‘stone’ people who are just alive, but listless without their children.

There were polarized opinions about the success/failure of the revolution but at large, people agreed that the abysmal condition of Assam had not changed too much during and after the agitation. ‘Crimsom’ is a story written by Ratnottama Das Bikram and translated by Mitali Goswami, which narrates the extortion faced by non-Assamese people in Assam, forcing them to leave the place. Although this family does not belong to Assamyet, they have lived here a long time, perhaps even before the crisis took shape. When ULFA’s meetings are held, they speak of a golden Assam but when the crisis is past SULFA takes over, often demanding money from people. Motilal Jain in the story is threatened and later killed over money, even though he has already made a lot of donations. This bears a tremendous impact on two young children who are friends of his son, Arunjyoti. This story points out that the effects of the militancy were all-encompassing; it affected every section of the population. Despair and disappointment ran through everyone’s minds at the failure of the revolution.

‘Hongla Pandit’, (written in Bodo by Katindra Swargiary, and translated by Anjali Daimari) talks of Hongla Pandit, whose real name is Haragobinda. He refuses to be called anything else other than a ‘pandit’, since he is the first one in his community to pass matriculation and work in the lower primary school. He expects that his son Navajyoti would be as learned as him, and is quite troubled when Navajyoti takes up a Bodo name, Irakdao. His daughter, Delaisri, elopes with a Bihari youth, against her father’s wishes. Thus, Hongla Pandit is extremely surprised when the army tells him that his son Navajyoti is engaged with the Bodo Liberation Organization as an undercover agent. Hongla Pandit never encouraged his children to speak their native Bodo language, but his son was still influenced by revolutionary ideals. The Assam Accord brought the security of the tribal communities to question. Some of these people, like the Bodos, Rabhas, Mishings, etc. who may have acquired a dual identity and considered themselves to be both tribal and Assamese, now felt that only the interests of the Assamese-speaking people would be secured (Misra, 2014). There were, consequently, some nationalistic movements undertaken to safeguard the identities and interests of people in the tribal regions. In this story, the merciless attitude of the army is expressed with poignancy as Delaisri is raped and Hongla Pandit assaulted, for harbouring a militant. It is difficult for Hongla Pandit to grasp the reasons for being victimized but he is aware of the irreversible devastation caused by it.

Conclusion

This paper has attempted to portray the crisis in Assam from the perspective of the people. While the demand for ‘Swadhin’ or independent Assam remained a primary demand to the nationalistic organisation, it is also important to remember that the counter-revolutionary steps of the Centre and the consequent changes to the rebellion shifted the aims of the movement to only securing its comrades and retaliating against the Centre. One of the primary causes attributed to its fall is the reliance on the military wing which betrayed its ideological weaknesses and resulted in the growing alienation from the masses. For people trapped between these two contending parties, the revolution may have lost its initial fervour because both the nationalists and the Centre engaged in violence. The stories in this collection show that people at large were in favour of a situation that would address the inherent problems of the region through discussions and peace talks. This was to be achieved some years later in the new millennium.

The ULFA has insisted that its change of violent policies to relatively peaceful ones has been made in ‘‘deference to the wishes of the people of the state as expressed in the Jatiya Abhibartan or civil society conclave of 2010” (Misra, 2014, p. 226). The civil society has welcomed the recent peace negotiations and “suspension of violence” (Misra, 2014). There are also some within the civil society that did not want the peace process to mean a general amnesty towards ULFA. For those who had lost their families in the crisis, there had been a unanimous view that the killings by ULFA and the state were mistakes that seized almost thirty years of the political and social history of Assam. Nani Gopal Mahanta writes that there is a need for a political system that nurtures, as it were, sub-nationalistic and sub-regional identities (Mahanta, 2020, p. 316). Ironically, the aim of these sub-nationalistic identities has been to replace the concept of the nation-state altogether. If the question of ‘national identity‘ had to be reconsidered, then it was also true that the sub-nationalistic groups failed to proceed beyond the narrative of colonialism. The political space of India, therefore, needs to be restructured by “providing substantial degrees of provincial or regional autonomy” (Mahanta, 2020, p. 316). It also calls for a dialogue between the two parties that could effectively reduce the problems and create a harmonious ambience. Therefore, the people’s wishes to shun violence intensified the need for peace talks in the international scenario, to bring about the much-coveted and necessary condition of peace in the region.

Declaration of Conflict of Interests

The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest.

Funding

No funding has been received for the publication of this article. It is published free of any charge.

References

Baishya, Amit R. (2019). Contemporary literature from Northeast India: Deathworlds, terror and survival. Routledge.

Baruah, S. (2020). In the name of the nation: India and its northeast. Stanford University Press.

Bhattacharya, M. (2020). Stone people. (M. Goswami, Trans.). In A. Kashyap (Ed.), How to tell the story of an insurgency (pp. 142-180). HarperCollins.

Caruth, C. (1996). Unclaimed experience: Trauma, narrative, and history. Johns Hopkins University Press.

Davis, C. & Meretoja, H. (Eds.). (2020). The Routledge companion to literature and trauma. Routledge.

Dean, C. J. (2020). Witnessing. In C. Davis & H. Meretoja (Eds.). The Routledge companion to literature and trauma (pp. 111-120). Routledge.

Eaglestone, R. (2020). Trauma and fiction. In C. Davis & H. Meretoja (Eds.). The Routledge companion to literature and trauma (pp. 287-295). Routledge.

Foucault, M. (1982). The subject and power. Critical Enquiry 8(4), 777-795.

      http://www.jstor.org/stable/1343197

Kashyap, A. (Ed.). (2020). How to tell the story of an insurgency. HarperCollins.

Mahanta, N.G. (2013). Confronting the state: ULFA’s quest for sovereignty. Routledge.

Misra, U. (2014). India’s Northeast: Identity movements, state and civil society. Oxford University Press.

Pol Deka, S. (2020). What lies over here? (S. Goswami, Trans.). In A. Kashyap (Ed.), How to tell the story of an insurgency (pp. 59-85). HarperCollins.

Pujari, A. S. (2020). Surrender. (A. Kashyap, Trans.). In A. Kashyap (Ed.), How to tell the story of an insurgency (pp. 1-14). HarperCollins.

Abantika Dev Ray is a PhD Research Scholar at the Departmentof English, Assam University, Silchar. She is also engaged as a Guest Lecturer in English, in the Departments of English and Commerce at Scottish Church College, Kolkata, West Bengal. Her áreas of interest include Postcolonial Studies, Literature from Northeast India, and Indian Writing in English.

From Anonymity to Identity: Orality in Three Women Poets from North-East India

//
5.8K views

Gourab Chatterjee, Debanjali Roy & Tanmoy Putatunda

Kalinga Institute of Industrial Technology, (KIIT) Bhubaneswar, Odisha, India. Email: gou86rab@gmail.com.

Rupkatha Journal, Vol. 14, Issue 2, April-June, 2022. Pages 1-13. https://doi.org/10.21659/rupkatha.v14n2.ne34

First published: June 30, 2022 | AreaNortheast India | LicenseCC BY-NC 4.0

(This article is published under Themed Issue on Literature of Northeast India)
Full-Text HTML Full-Text PDF Cite
PlumX Metrics

Abstract

The expression ‘North-East India’ invokes an ethnographic monolith in popular imagination without looking into its multilingual set-up, heterogeneous cultural locations and diverse literary traditions, most of which are unscripted, orally composed and community-specific. Orality, which appears to be a crucial tool to understand the nuances of the literary landscape of this region, assumes a dual role. On the one hand, it is stratified, textualised, homogenised and commodified by the global market. On the other hand, it becomes a tool to challenge anonymity and reclaim the roots of the people, who had been suffering from a rupture in identity since the advent of the colonial education system and the ever-growing dependence on written communication in the modern socio-economic structure. This paper, through a close reading of three women poets of North-East India – namely, Temsula Ao, Mamang Dai and Esther Syiem, explores the reclamation of identity through the use of traditional tales, formulaic composition and indigenised vocabulary in their poetry. It also argues how orality is constructed within the ambit of the written text using coloniser’s language thereby creating a space for cultural hybridity thus subverting the hierarchy between orality and writing.

Keywords: Orality, Writing, Identity, Culture, Cultural Hybridity.

Grandfather constantly warned
That forgetting the stories
Would be catastrophic:
We would lose our history,
Territory, and most certainly
Our intrinsic identity.
So I told stories…

(Temsula Ao; “The Old Story Teller”, 2017)

The stories, the poet is so desperate to tell, are not merely stories. Rather, these are integral parts of the “intrinsic identity” of the diverse communities living in Northeastern India, who have been categorically homogenised, objectified and marginalised by the national imagination since India was perceived as a Nation-State in the colonial period. In the Indian context, whenever the expression ‘North-East’ is used, apart from signifying a particular geo-political place, connected with the rest of the country only through the narrow Siliguri corridor, it calls forth a monolithic ethnographic identity, referred to either as the “hilly country inhabited by independent tribes” (Allen et al. p. 2), as mentioned by the Gazetteer of Bengal and North East India, published before 1947 or as “(t)he distant north-eastern part of the subcontinent” (my italics) (National Council of Educational Research and Training 93) as described by NCERT history textbook in Independent India. Samir Das opined that though “from within[,] it represents one of India’s most diverse and heterogeneous of all regions”, Northeastern India “viewed from outside, looks both homogeneous and distinct from the mainland” (Das, p. 2). This statement reaffirms the imposed outsiderness of this region and the homogenisation of its cultural diversity.

It is needless to say that this piece of land, as it is quite rightly pointed out by Das, houses more than a hundred nationalities of diverse literary and cultural heritage and more than two hundred languages, belonging to different linguistic groups and language families (North East India, n.d.). However, many of these languages did not have scripts and all verbal expressions, including art and information, were composed and transmitted orally. Orality had a significant role in the society to sustain social order, legal conventions and communal identities. It was, of course, difficult for the Europeans, for whom writing was regarded “as a vehicle of syllogistic reasoning and as an instrument for consolidation of state power” (Misra, “Speaking, Writing and Coming”, 2013, p. 14), to understand the importance of oral traditions among these “independent tribes”. Hence the diverse population of the Northeastern region became easy ‘subjects’ of their ethnographic ‘discoveries’ and was described without given any distinct identity. Unfortunately, things did not change much after independence. With the borders being drawn for the Independent nation, Northeast became the perennial frontier of the country, secluded from the rest of India, geographically as well as culturally. After globalisation, things took a completely new turn and brought even newer challenges. The orally composed verbal arts became the new signifier of the commodification of “(t)he distant north-eastern part of the subcontinent.” Temsula Ao wrote:

The cultures of North East India are already facing tremendous challenges from education and modernization. In the evolution of such cultures and the identities that they embody, the loss of distinctive identity markers does not bode well for the tribes of the region. If the trend is allowed to continue in an indiscriminate and mindless manner, globalization will create a market in which Naga, Khasi or Mizo communities will become mere brand names and commodity markers stripped of all human significance and which will definitely mutate the ethnic and symbolic identities of a proud people. Globalization in this sense will eventually reduce identity to anonymity. (Cited in Sarkar, 11-12)

But this process did not go unchecked without any resistance as is evident in contemporary artistic and literary expressions. In this context, the poem cited at the beginning of this article, maybe read as evidently invoking the ‘pre-modern’ storytellers and their art of creating distinct cultural repertoires for individual communities. It emphasises the instrumental role stories play to build identities and to reinstate the same. The cultural traditions, which were turned into mere “commodity markers” by the globalised market, are reclaimed not only by TemsulaAo, but also by other contemporary poets from the Northeast and are reused as powerful tools to assert their individual uniqueness and cultural and political agency. In this article, therefore, there has been an attempt to scrutinise how orality is used to reverse the process of “identity to anonymity” in the works of poets from the Northeast, specifically, TemsulaAo, Mamang Dai and Esther Syiem, respectively from Ao, Adi and Khasi community, who, even after having a ‘non-script’ mother tongue, are writing their poems in English which can be identified as a “grapholect” or  a “transdialectal language formed by deep commitment to writing” (Ong, 2002, p. 7). This paper studies the poems of Ao, Dai and Syiem as these three poets belong to three different cultural locations that signify the diversities of Northeastern region and at the same time, build a polysystemic network through the use of myths and oral tales and create a platform of shared experiences by assuming the role of traditional storytellers.

This paper will first look into the homogenization of Northeastern culture and how its specific and distinct identity is stripped off by the global market by making it an “anonymous”[i] (as it has been identified by TemsulaAo), standardized commodified product and then it will show, how this process is resisted by the three women poets from three distinct Northeastern states and community by creating a heterogeneous, hybrid and dynamic space through the use of “written oral poems.” (see Foley, 2004)

Orality and Commodity

As Temsula Ao observed, globalisation-induced modern media and digital space gave orality a new exposure. While talking about the growing market of tourism in the Northeastern part of the country, Erik de Maaker (2020) noticed a common trend among the travellers, photographers and filmmakers, both from inside and outside India, to visit “real”, “traditional” and “animist” culture of the people of the hills, without looking into the ethnic differences and varied literary expressions. To him, the stereotypical portrayal and the imposed homogeneity “fulfil a demand in a national and global market, where audiences want to locate ‘tribal’ or ‘indigenous’ people in nature, and in a timeless past” (Maaker, p. 16-17). This trend magnified after the emergence of new media and cyberculture and the young generation of this region, which “is quickly becoming one of the fastest-growing markets for online retailers” (Hasan, p. 135), contributed to this process in a significant manner. Urban musical bands of the Northeast, like Shillong Chamber Choir, who “performed at the Rashtrapati Bhavan for visiting US President Barak [sic] Obama and Michelle Obama during their state visit to India” (Shillong Chamber Choir), and was commissioned for a video to promote electoral participation among the people of Meghalaya during 2014 Parliamentary Election, used oral narratives and indigenous lyrical forms as one of the components of their musical creation. Founded in 2001, Shillong Chamber Choir, with its music videos often set in the Northeast, propagate certain markers of the culture that hardly represent the immense diversity of the region. The visuals they use to depict the culture of Northeast, are overtly aestheticised and picturesque, and eventually fall into the same trap of simplifying and objectifying the cultural nuances.[ii] These videos, Hasan wrote, “blur(s) the distinction between different tribes and ethnicities, and presents young people from various parts of the Northeast region as a homogeneous, happy, purposeful, and trendy group” (Hasan 146) and by doing this turning the traditional oral verbal arts into a standardized consumerist product. This “systematic manipulation of signs” as Baudrillard would say, aims at “simulating a consumer totality” where diverse socio-cultural and linguistic identities could be contained within a grand narrative and be presented for collective cultural consumption (Baudrillard, p. 35).

The poets in discussion here are trying to create a counter-discourse to this homogenisation and commodification of oral narratives by the global market and media. The form of orality, represented by the urban bands or the contemporary photographers and film-makers, is essentially different from how orality is conceived by TemsulaAo, Mamang Dai or Esther Syiem, all of whom, as a part of their project, compiled, translated, transcreated and adapted Ao, Adi and Khasi oral tales, myths and legends.

Contesting Commodification

It has already been discussed how Ao wanted to resist the “mindless” use of oral tales, expropriated from their cultural roots, becoming a saleable product in the consumerist market. Her insistence on telling the stories, and reviving the oral tradition is completely an opposite and conscious endeavour. In her words:

But now a new era has dawned.
Insidiously displacing the old.
My own grandsons dismiss
Our stories as ancient gibberish
From the dark ages, outmoded
In the present times and ask
Who needs rambling stories
When books will do just fine?
The rejection from my own
Has stemmed the flow
And the stories seem to regress
Into un-reachable recesses
Of a mind once vibrant with stories
Now reduced to un-imaginable stillness.

       (Ao, “The Old Story Teller”, 2021)

This ‘new era’ undoubtedly refers to the era of “education and modernization” which marks the commodification of Northeastern cultural identities and the way it is turning them into “mere brand names”. However, the mention of books in the above-quoted stanza, implies the dual purpose of resuscitating orality. Orality is facing threats from two apparently opposite forces. On the one hand, its existence has been endangered (“un-reachable recesses”) owing to the advent of writing and print culture, and on the other hand, it is appropriated, commercialised and converted into an exotic, monolithic tourist attraction by the dominant culture. Theodore Adorno, while theorising Culture Industry, argued that “[c]ulture today is infecting everything with sameness” (Adorno and Horkheimer 94) and this standardised modes of production gives rise to “pseudoindividuality” where “[t]he peculiarity of the self is a socially conditioned monopoly commodity misrepresented as natural” (Adorno & Horkheimer 125). Hence any cultural element can easily be turned into a homogenised commodity, having an exchange value determined by the fetishism regulated by the dominant economy. According to him, any resistance to this mass culture is “radically individual” which has “residues not fully encompassed by the prevailing system and still happily surviving, and marks of the mutilation inflicted on its members by that system.” (Adorno and Horkheimer 200) It is interesting to note in this regard that Ao, Syiem and Dai chose the same tool of orality to subvert and resist the process of commodification of Naga, Khasi and Adi culture respectively.

Orality and Identity, Orality as Identity

EasterineIralu pointed out the challenges that authors of Northeast often face due to the dearth of major publishing houses in the region as a result of which they are often compelled to approach the big publishing houses of Delhi, and encounter “a stereotyped expectation that Naga writers are capable only of producing politically charged writing or exotic folk literature in mediocre language” (Iralu 2004). The poems of Ao, Dai and Syiem can be placed in opposition to this discourse. They are not simply imitating the oral tales as these were told in their distinct cultures, rather they are trying to assume the role of the traditional storyteller, who reminds people of their roots and customs, of their history and identity, which have been flattened and homogenised by the standardised format of printed texts. Syiem wrote:

The conceptual notion of what the oral is has received a severe beating at the hands of the practitioners of the written. This is but a natural consequence of the evolution of the written medium in which priorities change and societies are no longer the homogeneous entities that they once were. In such a situation, then, what is clearly needed is retrieval of a kind. Before any attempts are made to do this, however, it has to be understood that lest the exercise itself prove self-defeating, the oral has, to use a Khasi term, its own rngiew, the imperceptible aura that in Khasi thought permeates all things living, and which gives them being and identity. (Syiem, “Negotiating the Loss” 81)

Syiem’s attempt to “retrieve” orality neither refers to going back to the nostalgic past, nor is she trying to romanticise the oral tradition as an escapade from contemporary reality. Rather, to her, orality is an existing and living tradition [as she named her essay “Orality Alive” (Syiem, “Orality Alive” 38)], an organic part of the Khasi culture, constantly changing its form and has the potential to capture all the modern complexities. Her poems bring up the legends of Khasi creation stories and make them speak of the political, social and cultural reality of her time. She wrote:

Forlorn ancestress.
As a child I believed in you.
As a young woman
I wished to uphold you
 as my personal myth.
As of now,
I wish to preserve you
as a source of inspiration.

Shrewd historians
float theories about you;
and though you have been weighed
and found wanting,
I still chose to look upon you
as the source of my identity
from a distant time.

(Syiem, “Pahsyntiew”, 2006, p.  26)

The “ancestress” in this poem refers to the myth of Ka Pahsyntiew, the daughter of U-lei Shillong, who was tricked into marrying a human being and from whom the clan of Syiem sprang. It is said that she, after giving birth to her warrior sons, went back to the cave she came from and did not return. The myth does not only talk about the origin of Khasi people, but also, in Syiem’sutilisation,  locates the oral tale within the ambit of the politico-cultural environment of Meghalaya and connects the myth to her “identity” (“the source of my identity”).  It is worthwhile to note that in this poem, the word “jalyngkteng”, the yellow flower, with which Ka Pahsyntiew was tricked, which Syiem turned into a metaphor for political deception and exploitation happening with the people of her community, was not translated into English. In other poems too by the poet (“To Bemsynda”, “Ka Sohlyngngem’s Dirge”, “U Lymboit U Lymbiang”) similar Khasi words, laden with a multitude of cultural and historical significances and kept in the original language, are found. In the words of Ng?g? waThiong’o, language is the carrier of culture, consisting of cultural images that come down to us through the long passage of time. He wrote:

Our whole conception of ourselves as a people, individually and collectively, is based on those pictures and images which may or may not correctly correspond to the actual reality of the struggles with nature and nurture which produced them in the first place… Language as culture is thus mediating between me and my own self; between my own self and other selves; between me and nature. Language is mediating in my very being. (Thiong?o 15)

The use of Khasi words by Esther Syiem can therefore, be seen as a deliberate attempt on her part to indigenise the English she is using and make the language prepared to adapt the language of orality, which not only gives her an identity to reclaim but also connects her to her community.

Social identity theories contend that “the self is reflexive” and identities are formed through the individual’s conscious relation to “social categories or classifications” (Stets & Burke 224-225). Henri Tajfel, prominent social psychologist of the 1970s, noted that an individual’s social identity is conditioned by her/his association with a ‘group’ where the group serves two purposes. Firstly, it becomes the crucible where diversities in individual identities are subsumed to a noticeable, uniform pattern. Secondly, this sense of uniformity distinguishes the group (and the individual) from other categories and groups consequently creating a homogeneous idea about the group and resulting in the binaries of ‘us’ and ‘them’. Analysing the writings on and about Northeast in this light, it becomes clear how the narratives as well as the choice of the medium in which these narratives reach the consumers, underline conscious/unconscious attempts to carve out a group identity by virtue of deliberate “depersonalisation”. Considered as “[t]he central cognitive process in social identity formation”, depersonalisation regards the notion of the self as one that is blended with group characteristics “rather than as a unique individual” (Turner et al. 1987 cited in Stets & Burke, 231). This sense of depersonalisation, perpetuated by contemporary writings on Northeast, is contested by the counter-discourse of oral narratives that debunk easy categorisation and stereotypification.

Oral tradition, as seen by Sen and Kharmawphlang, does not only function as “a wealthy repository of mythical, legendary and historical past,” but also “articulates protest and dissent and simultaneously voices concerns of reform and redress.” (Sen &Kharmawphlangi) Mamang Dai said, apart from being “a simple recounting of tales for a young audience”, orality gives her “a sense of identity” (Singh, 2017). It is the knowledge of the oral tales, which are nothing but the “beliefs, determining way of life”, that “links the individual to a group” (Dai, “On Creation Myths” 4). While recounting the Khasi tale of the origin of U HynniewTrep, Esther Syiem echoed the same idea by saying that the tale gives a Khasi person an identity more complete “than the one that history has bestowed upon him” (Syiem, “Orality Alive” 44).

Reclaiming identity alludes to claiming back history. The contrast between legends and history, oral and written, indigenous perspective from within and the perspective of the “shrewd historians” from the outside, which becomes a recurring theme in the poems by Ao, Syiem and Dai, implies the proclamation of identity against the imposed generalization by the popular discourse. Ao wrote:

Then came a tribe of strangers
Into our primordial territories
Armed with only a Book and
Promises of a land called Heaven

Declaring that our Trees and Mountains
Rocks and Rivers were no Gods

And that our songs and stories
Nothing but tedious primitive nonsense.

(Ao, Book of Songs,  2013, p. 297)

Similarly, in Mamang Dai:

The history of our race
begins with the place of stories.
We do not know if the language we speak
belongs to a written past.
Nothing is certain.

(Dai, “An Obscure Place” 2021, p. 85)

The juxtaposition between “a Book” and “songs and stories” in Ao’s poem or the contradistinction between “history” and “stories” in Dai’s poem indicate the poets’ intention of replacing one with the other, and thus reverse and subvert the process of the official historiography.

Nevertheless, orality in the poems by these three poets were not only mere references. The poets imbibe Ao, Khasi and Adi tales, myths, legends, shamanic chants and other oral expressions into the poetic form as well as the content. Dai wrote:

Remember
the river’s voice,
Where else could we
be born, where else
could we belong,
if not of memory
divining life and form
out of silence,
Water and mist,
the twin gods
water and mist
And the cloud woman
always calling
from the sanctuary
of the gorge…

(Dai, “Missing Link” 2011, p. 65)

Apart from recalling the Adi myth of twin gods, the poem imitates the short-paced free flowing speech of an invocation chant. The first line of each stanza of this poem repeats the word “remember”, which refers to the significance of memory in oral traditions. Mary Carruthers observed that “valorisation” of memory is a “hallmark of orality” (Carruthers, 1990, p. 12). The dynamics between memory and the act of remembering in oral societies has a compelling connection with knowledge and experience and often manifests itself through the repetitive use of composite formulas. The word “remember” does not only act as a mnemonic call to the self and the readers to be aware of one’s identity, but also resembles the formulaic structure of an oral composition. The use of formulaic structure can be seen in Ao’s “Stone-people from Lungterok” (Ngangom&Nongkynrih, 2009, 1), which follows the structure of an oral praise poem, where each stanza starts with the word “stone-people.” Similarly, Syiem also refers to bird-chant in her “Ka Sohlyngngem’s Dirge” and reproduce the effect of an oral repetition in the following lines: “woman without means/ has no right to love,/ no right to love/ woman without means,/ has no right to love,…” (Syiem, “Ka Sohlyngngem’s “Dirge”, 2021, p. 44).

Even in the content Dai, Ao and Syiem recall the mythical and animistic past of pre-Christian Northeast, the legendary tales, the pastoral romances. “Ka Sohlyngngem’s Dirge” talks about a popular Khasi tale of lovers turning into birds, “Stone-people from Lungterok” refers to the myth of Ao Naga origin, Dai’s poems have numerous references to different Adi myths and popular tales. Wong observed that “Mamang Dai’s nature poetry is recognisably animistic in its messages” (Wong 74). She also noted that “[t]he incantatory rhythms of Dai’s poetry suggest hybridization with the vernacular chants of the peoples of the eastern Himalayas” (Wong, 2013, 74). Myths in the poems of Dai, Ao or Syiem, are not invoked to make their poetry more exotic and thus add materials to the process of commercialization of Northeastern culture, rather myth functions in a more personal and communal level, it revises the communal ties and calls for a collective identity.

However, though all three poets are using orality as a tool to reclaim identity and resist the process of standardisation and commodification of Northeastern culture, the uniqueness and distinct nature of choosing their literary forms are very evident in their poems. They are very cautious about not echoing each other and falling into the same trap of subscribing to the process of homogenisation.

Scripting Orality

Can oral poems be written? Temsula Ao asked, “how have the literate, educated inheritors of such traditions dealt with their inheritance?” (Ao, “Writing Orality”, 2007, p. 100). To answer this question, we may cite the example of the Nigerian poet Niyi Osundare, one of the pioneers of the AlterNative Poetry Movement, who wanted to capture orality in its truest form and published poems along with audio CDs. To him “the word as print can no longer carry the full burden of my voice” (cited in Newell, 130). The Canadian author Thomas King can also be referred to in this context. King wrote short stories mimicking the sentence structure of recorded interview clips of the aboriginal people of Canada published by the ethnographers (see King, 2013). Both of the authors wrote in English, and tried to capture the essence of orality in a scripted language. These attempts, nevertheless, do not take the readers to the oral sources, rather it create a hybrid space, or “fusion of elements” as suggested by Ao (Ao, “Writing Orality”, 2007, p. 103), where the oral and the written interact. This interaction, she observed, “has helped such writers to move away from western, euro-centric models and has enabled them to create a totally new literature deeply immersed in traditional sensibilities but at the same time imbued with contemporary perceptions” (Ao, “Writing Orality”, 2007, p. 103). The poets are well aware of the fact that oral tradition, a tradition so deeply rooted in the culture it originated from, can hardly be taken into another language, without risking its social, political and cultural values it embodies. Whenever orality is scripted, it immediately loses its performatory aspects, collaborative and interpolative nature, improvisation, audience participation, impact on auditory perceptions and so on. Writing orality calls for an aporia.

John Miles Foley, while discussing oral poems, proposed a “less centralized, more openended” (Foley, 2004, p. 12) model which included “written oral poems.” Written oral poems, Foley argued, may seem “a contradiction in terms” but as important as other forms of orality. Being “topical and locally situated” these poems have “their language and style came from one world and their subjects from another” (Foley 26-27). This idea echoes with the notion of “secondary orality” as theorised by Walter J. Ong  (Ong, 2002, pp. 10-11). Though the northeastern poets are writing in English, their way of indigenising the language by incorporating Naga, Khasi and Adi words, the use and reinterpretation of myths and legends, the inclusion of oral formulaic structure in their poems, the influence of indigenous cultural and religious expressions locate them in the canon of “written oral poems.” Earlier it has been stated that Dai, Syiem and Ao actively participated in translations of different Adi, Khasi and Ao oral tales. These engagements with orality influence their writing to a great extent.  Misra wrote:

When Mamang Dai records the ancient legends of the Adis preserved in the collective memory of the people, she uses the English language with the lyrical softness of an Adi rhapsodist chanting his songs amidst the hidden mountains. Her rich and vibrant language may not be her mother tongue, but she has made it her own in the most convincing manner. (Misra, “Crossing Linguistics Boundaries”, 2021, p. 3653)

Mamang Dai’s attempt to make the language “her own”, indicates the reclamation of identity, which has become a negotiated space of cultural hybridity due to colonisation and the cultural imperialism propagated by the globalised market. Bhabha argued:

Terms of cultural engagement, whether antagonistic or affiliative, are produced performatively. The representation of difference must not be hastily read as the reflection of pre-given ethnic or cultural traits set in the fixed tablet of tradition. The social articulation of difference, from the minority perspective, is a complex, on-going negotiation that seeks to authorize cultural hybridities that emerge in moments of historical transformation. (Bhabha, 1994, p. 2)

In the context of cultural expressions of the Northeast, orality thus serves the dual purpose of commodifying the culture in a homogenous “fixed tablet of tradition”, while simultaneously engendering a non-stratified, dynamic, heterogeneous hybrid space. This ‘space’, as appropriated in the poems by Ao, Dai and Syiem, not only resists and problematises this process of turning the diversified oral traditions into a singular, monolithic and anonymous estimation but also reinstates the individual agencies of Northeastern communities and celebrates their cultural identity.

Declaration of Conflict of Interests

The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest.

Funding

No funding has been received for the publication of this article. It is published free of any charge.

Notes

[i] In this discussion, the notion of anonymity is not synonymous with non-identity. Rather, it is treated as a distinct ontological category which makes identity lose its specificity and definiteness and thus turns it into an obscure existence.

[ii] Moral described the achievements of Shillong Chamber Choir as a marriage between “the folk from the northeast” and “the classical traditions of pan Indian songs and lyrics from its national anthem.” She wrote: “As the crystal clear notes of the Khasi folksong spill into the silence of the country’s impressive halls and theatres, members of the SCC’s band in traditional clothing and jewellery, in their native kynjri ksiar and the regal dhara stand before a mesmerised metropolitan audience donning the material objects of the land they belong to while their music evokes the deep gorges and pristine valleys of the distant Khasi Hills in the country’s borderlands.” (Moral, 2021, 194-195) It is the showcasing of “deep gorges and pristine valleys” which led Hasan to opine that “(i)t… ultimately lapses into a clichéd representation of Khasi youth as Westernised and presents a highly simplistic depiction of political choice and empowerment.” (Hasan 146)

References

Adorno, Theodor, and Max Horkheimer. (2002). Dialectic of enlightenment: philosophical fragments. Edited by Gunzelin Noeri and Edmund Jephcott, translated by Gunzelin Noeri and Edmund Jephcott. Stanford University Press.

Allen, Basil Copleston, et al. (2017). Gazetteer of Bengal and North-east India. Mittal Publications.

Ao, Temsula. (2013). Book of Songs: Collected Poems, 1988-2007. Heritage Publishing House.

Ao, Temsula. (2021). The Old Story Teller. Heritage India Magazine, 2017, https://heritage-india.com/old-storyteller-nagaland-poem/. Accessed 28 December.

Ao, Temsula. (2007). Writing Orality. In Soumen Sen and Desmond L. Kharmawphlang(Eds). Orality and Beyond: A North-East Indian Perspective, Sahitya Akademi, pp. 99-112.

Baudrillard, Jean. (1998) The Consumer Society: Myths and Structures. Sage.

Bhabha, Homi K. (1994). The Location of Culture. Routledge.

Carruthers, M. (1990). The Book of Memory. A Study of Memory in Medieval Culture. Cambridge University Press.

Dai, Mamang. (2011). Missing Link. Indian Literature, vol. 44, no. 3 (197), 2000, pp. 64-66. JSTOR, https://www.jstor.org/stable/23343169. Accessed 16 December.

Dai, Mamang. (2021). An Obscure Place. Indian Literature, vol. 49, no. 4(228), 2005, pp. 85-86. JSTOR, https://www.jstor.org/stable/23340797. Accessed 15 December.

Dai, Mamang. (2005). On Creation Myths and Oral Narratives. India International Centre Quarterly, vol. 32, no. 2/3, 2005, pp. 1-6. JSTOR, https://www.jstor.org/stable/23005996. Accessed 16 December.

Das, Samir Kumar. (2013). Governing India’s Northeast: Essays on Insurgency, Development and the Culture of Peace. Springer India, 2013.

Foley, John Miles. (2004). Indigenous Poems, Colonialist Texts. Jonathan A. Draper, Brill(Eds) Orality, Literacy, and Colonialism in Antiquity, , pp. 9-35.

Hasan, Daisy. (2019). From clanships to cyber communities: India’s Northeast in the digital age. In Markus Schleiter and Erik de Maaker (Eds). Media, Indigeneity and Nation in South Asia. Routledge, pp. 132-149.

Iralu, Easterine. (2004) Should Writers Stay in Prison? Of Invisible Prisons. Nagaland- The Unknown World, http://nagas.sytes.net/~kaka/articles/art007.html. Accessed 15 December

King, Thomas. (2013). One Good Story, that One: Stories. University of Minnesota Press.

Maaker, Erik de. (2020). From marginal zone to borderland? Ethnographies, histories and politics in Northeast. In India.Surajit Sarkar and Nerupama Y. Modwel (Eds). Oral Traditions, Continuities and Transformations in Northeast India and Beyond. Routledge, pp. 13-24.

Misra, Tilottoma. (2021). Crossing Linguistic Boundaries: Two Arunachali Writers in Search of Readers. Economic and Political Weekly, vol. 42, no. 36, 2007, pp. 3653-3661. JSTOR, https://www.jstor.org/stable/40276364. Accessed 16 December.

Misra, Tilottoma. (2013). Speaking, Writing and Coming of the Print Culture in Northeast India. In Margaret Ch. Zama (Ed) Emerging Literatures from Northeast India: The Dynamics of Culture, Society and Identity. Sage Publications, pp. 14-27.

Moral, Rakhee Kalita. (2021). Reimagining the Pastoral: Metaphors and Meanings of the Everyday in Assam and India’s Northeast. In Rashi Bhargava and TiplutNongbri(Eds) Materiality and Visuality in North East India: An Interdisciplinary Perspective. Springer Singapore, pp. 183-199.

National Council of Educational Research and Training. (2021). Our Pasts Part – 2 Textbook in History for Class – 7 – 760. National Council of Educational Research and Training, 2014. Accessed 26 December.

Newell, Stephanie. (2006). West African Literatures: Ways of Reading. Oxford University Press.

Ngangom, Robin S., and Kynpham Singh Nongkynriheditors. (2009) Dancing Earth: An Anthology of Poetry from North-East India. Penguin Books India.

North East India. Ministry of Development of North Eastern Region, North East India, https://mdoner.gov.in/about-north-east. Accessed 6 February 2022.

Ong, Walter J. (2002). Orality and Literacy: The Technologizing of the Word. Routledge.

Sarkar, Surajit. (2021). Introduction; Oral Traditions in Highland Asia: A View from Northeast India. In Surajit Sarkar and Nerupama Y. Modwel (Eds). Oral Traditions, Continuities and Transformations in Northeast India and Beyond. Routledge, pp. 1-12.

Sen, Soumen, and Desmond L. Kharmawphlang. (Eds). (2007). Introduction. In Orality and Beyond: A North-East Indian Perspective, Sahitya Akademi, pp. i-iv.

Shillong Chamber Choir. (2021). About Shillong Chamber Choir | Official Website, 2020, https://www.shillongchamberchoir.com/. Accessed 30 December.

Singh, Robin. (2017). Writers in Conversation. In Conversation with Mamang Dai Jaydeep Sarangi, Flinders University, August 2017, https://www.arsdcollege.ac.in/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/In_Conversation_with_Mamang_Dai.pdf. Accessed 30 December 2021.

Stets, Jan E., and Peter J. Burke. (2000). Identity Theory and Social Identity Theory. Social Psychology Quarterly, vol. 63, no. 3, pp. 224-237. https://www.jstor.org/stable/2695870. Accessed 16 December 2021.

Syiem, Esther. (2021). Ka Sohlyngngem’s “Dirge”. Indian Literature, vol. 54, no. 3 (257), 2010, pp. 43-44. http://www.jstor.org/stable/23349452. Accessed 15 December.

Syiem, Esther. (2016). Negotiating the Loss: Orality in the Indigenous Communities of North East India. India International Centre Quarterly, vol. 4, no. 1, pp. 80-89. JSTOR, https://www.jstor.org/stable/26317400. Accessed 15 December 2021.

Syiem, Esther. (2007). Orality Alive: Recapturing the Tale. Orality and Beyond: A North-East Indian Perspective, edited by Soumen Sen and Desmond L. Kharmawphlang, Sahitya Akademi, pp. 38-50.

Syiem, Esther. (2006) Pahsyntiew. Indian Literature, vol. 50, no. 1 (231), pp. 26-27, URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/23346334.

Thiong?o, Ng?g? Wa. (1987). Decolonising the Mind: The Politics of Language in African Literature. Zimbabwe Publishing House.

Wong, Mitali Pati, and Syed Khwaja Moinul Hassan. (2013). The English Language Poetry of South Asians: A Critical Study. McFarland & Company, Incorporated, Publishers.

1Gourab Chatterjee is an assistant professor in School of Languages, KIIT, Deemed to be University who did his PhD in Arts from the Department of Comparative Literature, Jadavpur University. His research interests include Comparative Literature, African Literature, Orality, Reception Theory and so on.

2Debanjali Roy is working as an Assistant Professor in the School of Languages, KIIT Deemed to be University. She is pursuing her Ph.D. in the Department of English, University of Calcutta. Her research interests include Sociolinguistics and English Language Teaching, Gender Studies, Modern Art and Literature and Popular Literature

3Tanmoy Putatunda is working as an Assistant Professor in the School of Languages, KIIT Deemed to be University. He is also pursuing his Ph.D. in the Department of English, Visva-Bharati, Santiniketan. His research interests include Urban Studies, Representation of City in Literature, Indian Literature in English, Popular Literature, Culture Studies, Postmodern and Postcolonial Literature.

Ecofeminist Consciousness in Select Folktales from Northeast India

///
9.4K views

Pronami Bhattacharyya
Royal Global University, Guwahati, Assam. ORCID: 0000-0002-2249-8212. Email: pronami.bhattacharyya@gmail.com

Rupkatha Journal, Vol. 14, Issue 2, April-June, 2022, Pages: 1-12. https://doi.org/10.21659/rupkatha.v14n2.ne20

First published: June 24, 2022 | AreaNortheast India | LicenseCC BY-NC 4.0

(This article is published under Themed Issue on Literature of Northeast India)
Full-Text HTML Full-Text PDF Cite
PlumX Metrics

Abstract

Radical green theory proclaims that the origins of environmental catastrophe lie in the anthropocentrism of modern capitalism. This necessitates the formation of healthier societies wherein humans perceive their selves ‘in relation’ to nature. The theory of deep ecology (Naess, 1972) calls for reinforcing our sense of empathy with all life forms and brings about the philosophy of “Gaia” (James Lovelock, 1979). This idea of Earth as a living entity can also be found in The Atharva Veda, ancient Indian Vedic text (10th c. BCE) that perceives nature as ‘earth-spirit’ or a living organism. The theory of ecofeminism advocates the cessation of all kinds of coercion. In this Karen Warren (Ecofeminist Philosophy 2000), Mary Vidya Porselvi (Nature, Culture and Gender, 2016) are among the key figures to have given a new direction to the tenets of ecofeminism. Notably, folk ontology provides templates for living well based on reverence, reciprocity and responsibility which are close to ecofeminist ideologies. Through select folktales from Chandrica Barua’s Stories by the Fire on a Winter Evening (2020), Pallabi Baruas Grandmas Tales. (in translation (2011), Fresh Fictions: Folk Tales, Plays, Novellas From the Northeast by Katha(2005) and Fungari Singbul (in translation) (2012), and Funga Wari, Vol. 3 (in translation) (1999), K.U. Rafy’s Folk-Tales of the Khasis (2011), and D.K. Tyagi’s Tribal Folktales of Tripura (2020) this paper attempts to examine the legends of the (silenced) women and their relationship with nature that might offer possible solutions to a sustainable and peaceful life while propagating ecological spiritualism.

Keywords: Ecofeminism, Gaia, Folktales, Northeast Literature

Introduction

…the type of interspecies and ecological awareness that is evident within traditional and indigenous life-ways was normal before the rise of the west, and a functional and reverent way of living respectfully in place. (Sepie, 2017, p. 12)

In 2000, Paul Crutzen affirmed that currently we are in the age of the ‘Anthropocene’, an age of unprecedented human impact on earth’s ecosystem. In the race to ‘progress’, humans have almost obliterated the connection and semblance with the non-human world. This paper attempts to trace the roots of ecofeminism in the folk ontology of select folktales from Northeast India that could pose a viable solution to the current quandary that mankind is in. To this end, the chapter analyzes the folktales from the lens of ecofeminist theory/ideas as postulated by Goethe (1797), Paulo Freire’s (1972), Lovelock, James. (1979), Greta Garrd (1993), M. Mellor (1996), A.K. Ramanujan (1997), Karren J Warren (2000), Arnaes Ness (2005) and Mary Vidya Porselvi (2011).

In Facing Gaia (2013) Bruno Latour contends that cognizance of the Anthropocene writes off the modern theory of the infinite universe, pulling us back to the idea of a provincial, restricted, and fatigued earth. Around 10,000 years ago humans began tilling the land and set on the journey of ‘civilization and progress’. Post Industrial Revolution (the 1800s) there has been a manifold intensification of the negative human imprint on the earth. Hence, ‘mankind’ with its power-based association with the pastoral landscape, identifies the latter as ‘out there, to be used/exploited to satiate its own inexhaustible capitalist agenda.

This threat of the swelling ‘ecological imperialism’ was addressed by Goethe (1797) way back in the 18th century, where he deliberated on how the plenteous materiality of the ideal pastoral hid the threat of the imminent modernity of capitalism. The existing global crisis is not resultant of the ways in which ecosystems function, but because of the ways of conduct of our ethical systems. As C. Tan (2020) opines:

Salvation from this order of oppression will and must come through the resistance of women. Women are the ones who must organize and engage in action so as to make a difference and gradually alter the system which has been imposed on people and often claimed to be pertaining to the natural order. (p. 633)

The assertion of the Green theorists that anthropocentrism is the crux of the degradation of environment and human-nature cohesiveness, compels us to look for prototypes of healthier societies that existed prior to the commencement of humankind’s “progress”. In the Indian context, the idea of the earth as a single-organic-living-spirit can be traced back to The Atharva Veda (10th c. BCE). It promotes the sense of human identification with all life forms, thereby almost bringing about the philosophy of “Gaia” (Lovelock, 1979). Drawing on indigenous sources of knowledge, and valuing people, women and the non-human world alike, it is what ecofeminist Karren J. Warren (2000) claims—all connected. Hence, exploitation of any component of the structure renders the entire system ruptured. Greta Gaard (1993) rightly opines that “ecofeminism’s basic premise is that the ideology which authorizes oppressions such as those based on race, class, gender, sexuality, physical abilities, and species is the same ideology which sanctions the oppression of nature” (p. 1). Resonating the philosophy of deep ecology, ecofeminism accentuates “principles of diversity and of symbiosis” which is vital as “diversity enhances the potentialities of survival, the chances of new modes of life, the richness of forms” (Naess, 2005, p. 2).

As early as 1854, Henry David Thoreau illustrates an ideal living condition by renouncing modern life and renewing the self by retreating into nature. Suresh Frederick (2012) calls this an exemplification of an unadulterated ecology “in which plants, animals, birds and human beings live in such harmony that none dominates or destroys the other” (p. 147). Broadening on this framework, Daniel Christian Wahl (2016) writes:

What we are actually trying to sustain is the underlying pattern of health, resilience and adaptability that maintain the planet in a condition where life as a whole can flourish. Design for sustainability is, ultimately, design for human and planetary health (p. 43).

This serves as a worthy utilitarian reason for looking into how traditional communities have lived while propagating eco-spiritual contemplation on nature, and utilitarian principles that are reciprocal. Thus, ecofeminism is instrumental in synthesizing the human with the non-human world while contending that environmental issues are intimately connected with women’s experience/s. It argues that “the battle for ecological survival is intrinsically intertwined with the struggles for women’s liberation and other forms of social justice” (Buell, 2011, p.424). Greta Gaard and Patrick D. Murphy (1998) further illustrates the interweaving of these factors as an intersection of class “exploitation, racism, colonialism, and neocolonialism” (p.3). In matters of ecofeminism in ‘Third world’ countries, Warren (2000) specifically argues that “women are more dependent than men on tree and forest products” (p.5). She alludes to the archetypal case of ‘Chipko Movement’ from India, and says that it is:

…ostensibly about saving trees, especially indigenous forests. But it is also about important women-nature connections: trees and forests are inextricably connected to rural and household economies governed by women, especially in Third World countries, so tree shortages are about women, too. (p.5)

The act of “hugging the trees” mirrors a deep association and interdependence of the human and non-human world. She also cites the case of Sierra Leone: “Women in a Sierra Leone village were able to identify thirty one products from nearby bushes and trees, whereas men could identify only eight” (p.6).

This shows not just a reciprocation of benefits, but almost akin to Paulo Freire’s (1972) idea of ‘conscientizacao’— harmonized consciousness, sense, knowledge, and feeling. Ecofeminism encompasses this standpoint as “an interconnected sense of self is more common in women” (Gaard, 1993, p.2). It is worth discerning that “before patriarchal domination of human societies, woman-centred societies existed that were more egalitarian and ecologically benign” (Mellor, 1996, p.151). Hence, the common possibilities and motifs shared by women and nature cannot remain unheeded.

Right from the days of the Vedas, Indian philosophical thought has been rich in the sense of eco-consciousness. As a land of rich biodiversity, India has looked at Ecofeminism as the philosophy of ‘Mother Earth’ (similar to Greek ‘Gaia’). Vandana Shiva (2010), elucidates, “Nature, both animate and inanimate, is thus an expression of Shakthi, the feminine and creative principle of the cosmos; in conjunction with the masculine principle (Purusha), Prakriti creates the world” (Staying Alive, p.38). Prakriti is the omnipresent, all-inclusive, and spiritually elevating natural code that binds together all living forms.

The non-human natural world— “singing pines. Undulating lands. Mighty Rivers” (Preface, Fresh Fictions, 2005) — finds an animate and equal space in folktales across cultures. Acting as windows to one’s heritage and other cultures, folktales are carriers of values and traditions while preserving and propagating the awareness of ecological spiritualism. They carry fundamental messages and morals for the primal cognizance of humankind. In an era of ecological and commercial changes, folktales disseminate legends of women and their liaison with nature and have solutions to a sustainable and peaceful life. Folktales disseminate the perspective of the womenfolk who have stories to tell of care, abundance, and concern for human and non-human world alike.

Since ancient times, nature and women have been revered as mothers, however, this idea became degenerative and exploitative with time. This ecofeminist study aims at identifying and locating patterns of amalgamation of the human with the non-human world and nature as the ever-present life-affirming and a sustaining source to turn to at moments when the anthropocentric world fails. The select folktales can be categorised into the themes of Creation, Isis Panthea (creation motif), woody Women (women and trees) and women and animals.

Northeast India and Indigenous Epistemologies

Their stories, said the Imperial Gazette in 1908, are “superstition.” Today, the world calls this “ecological wisdom.” (Preface, Fresh Fictions– on Northeast Folktales). Folktales of Northeast India, like most folktales, “move with grace and felicity from concerns that are larger than life, encompassing the nuanced relationships between stars and fishes, humans and land spaces, to those between parents and siblings, families and strangers” (Preface, Fresh Fictions). Indigenous ways of storytelling “enables us to make meaning out of a chaotic world” (Bal, 2002, p.10). The eight states of Northeast India embody an important fragment of the Indo-Myanmar biodiversity hotspot, one of the twenty-five global biodiversity hotspots acknowledged presently (Baruah and Dey, 2005). Hence, “owing to its nearness to nature, the folk tales are entwined with nature” (Dey, 2015, p.15). Such ‘folk ontologies’ inspire our moral commitment, or lack of it, towards the non-human world, one that tends to relate “the pre-scientific” ideas (see Sepie, 2017).

The indigenous narratives from different states Northeast India showcase an intrinsic association that involves a kaleidoscope of shifting impressions of personhood as well as identity as appropriate to the ‘characters’, mostly non-human. This comprehensive sensibility of the folk ontologies run parallel to feminist concerns and are tied to a concern for a natural world that has been imperiled by similar exploitation and ambivalent conduct as have the womenfolk.

Creation

Folktales across cultures seem to have analogous plotlines when it comes to the motif of creation. Four main motifs seem to recur in these tales: one creator, the fact that humans are made from organic elements, that human beings have appeared on earth for a purpose, and that it is a prerequisite for humans to respect the laws of nature. From this outlook, such tales of creation tend to have more secular implication in modern cultures. G.N. Devy (2002) says:

The tribal imagination…is still to a large extent dreamlike and hallucinatory. It admits fusion between various planes of existence and levels of time…oceans fly in the sky as birds, mountains swim in water as fish, animals speak as humans and stars grow like plants…they admit the principle of association between emotion and the narrative motif. (pp. x-xi)

In “The Seven Clan” (Fresh Fiction, 2005), a folktale from Meghalaya, the Khasi God U-blei (master lord) first created “‘Ramew, the mother earth” (p.15) and her husband, “the patron god of villages” (p.15). They begot five children—eldest was a daughter, sun; the other three daughters being water, wind and fire. Moon, their son, was the youngest of the five. Sun, being the eldest (female) child, is replete with maternal disposition and takes care of the family as against the wilful brother, the moon:

The sun, their first born, began to flood earth with light and warmth. She would rise early every morning, go out to work without fail, and come back only after accomplishing her day’s work…the moon would go out to replace her. He was a little naughty and at time would sleep in… (pp. 15-16)

The rest of the three daughters, water, wind and fire, did their duties diligently, and kept “reshaping the world into a pleasant land, giving life to tall trees and beautiful flowers everywhere” (p.16). Ramew then called seven clans from heaven to “descend to till the earth, to populate the wilderness, to rule and govern and be the crown of all creation” (p.16). However, nature had to be respected; hence, U-Blei makes a covenant of the seven clans and instructs:

So long as man led a virtuous life, so long as he lived righteously on earth to earn merit…he would never be abandoned…. His life on earth was one long tale of happiness. (pp. 16-17)

But it is “not in man to be content with happiness alone” and hence soon he went out of the “god’s dictates” (p.17). God, vexed with man’s ways, made the tree Diengiei grow to block the sun which resulted in a “perpetual darkness” (p.17) on earth. All forms of life were threatened. But man decided to cut down the tree, and did so with the help of a little wren called Phreit. Grieved by man’s wilful ways God closed the golden gate to heaven and tore all ties with mankind. This led to a new kind of darkness to descend on earth “that bred all kinds of evil in the minds of men” (p.20). This folkloric message stands tall in today’s times when paying heed to divinity in nature is least of human’s concerns.

An Apatani (Arunachal Pradesh) folktale Reru Subansiri” (pasighat.wordpress, 2011) imagines earth as a woman, Kujum-Chant. The tribe believes that the first humans to walk the earth lived on the “surface of her belly”. One day, Kujum-Chantu thought that if she gets up and walks, humans would fall off, hence,

she herself died of her own accord. Her head became the snow-covered mountains; the bones of her back turned into smaller hills. Her chest was the valley where the Apa-Tanis live. From her neck came the north country of the Tagins. Her buttocks turned into the Assam plain. For just as the buttocks are full of fat, Assam has fat rich soil. Kujum-Chantu’s eyes became the Sun and Moon. From her mouth was born Kujum-Popi, who sent the Sun and Moon to shine in the sky… (para.1)

Evoking nature as a woman, this folktale, like others, enables humans to empathize with the non-human world. As Warren and Jim Cheney opine, “As a methodological and epistemological stance, all ecofeminists centralize, in one way or another, the ‘voices’ and experiences of women (and others) with regard to an understanding of the nonhuman world” (Gaard, 1993, p.53).

In a Hrusso or Aka (Arunachal Pradesh) folktale, “Buragaon, Kameng” (pasighat.wordpress, 2011), the Earth (wife) and Sky (husband) were formed out of two great eggs. However, the husband was smaller than the wife (earth/nature) and the latter readily adapts to his request and made herself “pliable and the mountains and valleys were formed, and she became small” (para.3). Presenting an alternative way of looking at the world, here nature, like the womenfolk, exemplifies the characteristics of adaptation and inclusion.

“The Formation of the Earth” (Rafy, 2011), a Khasi (Meghalaya) folktale, also shows the first entities as women/feminine. Ka Ding, Ka Um, and Ka Sngi were three Goddesses, and when their mother died, three elder sisters, Ka Ding undertook the responsibility:

She spread forth great flames which swept over the forests and caused the earth to burn and to crumble…Ever since then the earth has remained as the fire left it, full of mountains and valleys and gorges. It became a much more beautiful place, and in time mankind came here from heaven to dwell. (pp. 25-27)

In a Lupho (tribe of Manipur) folktale, “The Daughter of Lupho” (e-pao.net, 2011), talks about the Great Flood, and a daughter from a leading family had to be sacrificed as tradition. Lhangeineng, the daughter of Lupho, was chosen. And “Lhangaineng gave herself up to the god’s of the sea” (para.4) and saved humanity.

Folktales centering on the feminine principle have a different perception of the environment than a man’s perception. Mary Vidya Porselvi (2011) observes that women’s compassion towards environment and every being in it finds genuine representations in Indian folktales. In such tales, the non-human do not exist simply to satiate human needs; it is a world where the human and non-human entities stand as transcendent comrades. It is a horizontal society where the human and non-human are on equal grounds, rather than a vertical arrangement of mere exploitation.

Trees

Trees hold a spiritual significance in Indian history, mythology and folklife. They came to be associated with knowledge, wisdom, or even hidden secrets. In Rigveda there is a prayer for the growth of Trees:

Vanaspati mount up with a hundred branches that

We may mount with a thousand, thou whom the

Sharpened hatchet has brought for great auspiciousness.

[Lal, Singh & Mishra, (2014), Rig-Veda 3.8.11]

In ancient India, the concept of the tree as a living universe was projected unto Asvattha, an upside-down tree with its roots in heaven and branches enveloping the earth. It is seen as an actual living universe, part of Brahmand, the world spirit. In folktales, flora is ideally perceived in two forms: physical and metaphysical. In physical form, the plants or trees are seen as a providing means for humans in day-to-day use, while in metaphysical form they are respected and even prayed to. A protagonist (mostly a female) is either aided by or benefitted from trees in some way from the persecutions of the human world. Such tales validate the folk belief that death is simply a metamorphosis into an afterlife. Thus, human beings (mostly females), in their afterlives, get mutated into fruits, flowers, and trees. In most folktales across cultures, the motif of “girl becomes tree becomes girl” reflects the synchronized consciousness of conscientizacao. ‘Oikos’[1] (home), for women, is presented in two forms— anarchic or integrative. The non-human world in the form of trees allows the victimized womenfolk to travel from anarchic oikos (chaotic) to integrative oikos (peaceful).

“Sandrembi and Chaisra” (e-pao.net, 2009) is a Manipuri folktale of two stepsisters brought up by their mothers alone. Chairsa was a single child while Sadrembi had a brother. Chairsa’s mother always carried evil intentions to harm the other two children. Chairsa’s mother finally hatched her plan when she killed the mother of Sandrembi one day when both of them were fishing and Chaisra’s mother throws the body into the water. The victim turns into turtle, eventually into a sparrow and flies away.

After some time, the desolate Sandrembi captures the heart of a King and is married to him. The jealous stepmother is perturbed by Sandrembi’s sudden integrative oikos and decides to rob her of it. One day Sandrembi is invited home for lunch and is killed by the stepmother and Chairsa is sent back as the Queen instead. Sandrembi, on her part, turns into a dove and lives with the King until Chairsa kills her. The metamorphosis continues and she turns into a mango. The gardener discovers Sandrembi in her human form and takes her to the King. Angered and pained, he organizes a duel between the two sisters. Chairsa is slayed and Sandrembi regains her integrative oikos.

Endorsing an anti-class template, the folktales with this motif show a fluid mobility of a female human- self turning to various kinds of flora or even fauna. This also reflects the chronotope of harmonized consciousness in narrative time-space of folktales. Such dimensions in women-centered stories are marked by interchanges of interior (domestic) and exterior (public) planes of existence.

“Tejeemola” (Bezbaroa 1911/2020) (Assam), is a parallel to the story of “Cinderella” and also to various other folktales from India. In one of the long absences of the sailor father, Tejeemola is tormented and finally killed by her stepmother. Tejeemola then transforms herself into myriad forms— gourd, plum, lotus, dove. Each time somebody wants to pluck or catch hold her mutated forms, she exclaims the story of her murder. Finally, she is brought back into her integrative oikos by her father. As he tries to pluck a lotus, he is startled by a voice coming out of it:

Don’t extend your hand, don’t pluck a flower.

Where from have you come boat-man?

Along with silk-clothes, my step-mother pounded me,

I am only Tejeemola. (Barua, 2020, p.40)

Shocked, the father entreats her to turn into a dove and accompany him home. The evil stepmother was thrown out of the house, and Tejeemola turns back to her human form. It is noteworthy that Tejeemola never articulates her state of existence or speaks back until she is dead and transmutes into numerous plant forms. The world of flora may not have a code of language like the human world, but ironically, Tejeemola, speaks out as one. This is indicative of the fact that trees or plants may have much more agency than a (human) woman.

In a Manipuri variation of the Tejeemola story, “Mama Potkabi” (Oinam, 2018) the protagonist is killed by her stepmother, who, then takes the forms of pepper plant, a bottle gourd, and a lotus. She speaks to her father when he finds her in the lotus form: “Please do not hurt me. I have not done anything wrong” (para. 26). She comes back into her human form and together they drive the evil stepmother (wife) away. A.K. Ramanujan, in the folktale “A Flowering Tree” (1997) puts forth three distinct phases in women’s life categorized by integrated, hierarchic and anarchic oikos. The protagonists in both the Assamese and Manipuri versions go through the phases taking a full circle.

In a folktale from Tripura, “Chethuang” (Tyagi, 2020), the brother falls in love with his sister and the family finally decides to hold the marriage. Helpless, the sister has a visitation by an old man in her dream: “You poor girl, find out the seedling of Chethuang tree and plant it. Workshop it and you will be free from all the agonies” (p. 4). In sometime the tree grew and she sat on it and started singing a song: “O Chethuang tree, they want to get me married to my brother. You grow more and more” (p. 4). There were several attempts to bring her down by cutting the tree and its root off. When everything else failed, the father tried to trick the daughter by professing that the son has been killed. However, she saw through the fabrication and prayed to the South wind to take her away forever. She disappeared into the clouds; her oikos integrated.

This motif recurs in “Kelchawgni” (Fresh Fictions, 2005), a Mizo folktale. Kelchawgni, the obedient daughter, misinterpreting parent’s instructions, cooks her younger sister for dinner. To punish her, the parents leave her on the rooftop and refuse to bring her down. Finally, she “looked up to the sky and Pleaded with Pu Vana, the god of the heavens” (p.34). She went away to heavens and lived happily forever.

Indian philosophy claims that Prakriti is the power of creation as well as destruction, and that all originates from her, and melts into her. The select folktales reveal the silent yet definitive power of nature, trees in this case, to give the final refuge to all persecuted.

Animals

An Assamese folktale “The Kite’s Daughter” (Bezbaroah 1911/2020) states the abandonment of a daughter for the desire of a son. A rich potter had several daughters, so warns his wife against begetting any more daughters. As fate would have it, she begot another daughter and before the husband could find out, she covered the child in rags, put in a tumbler, and set her adrift on the river. Left to her fate, the child was found by a kite who adopted her. She grew up on the branches of a tree; the kite mother would steal from humans and provided her with all the essentials to her human daughter. She grew up into a beautiful young woman and captured the heart of a merchant. The kite mother, considering the human-daughter’s safe future, married her off to the merchant.

The merchant had seven other wives who created an anarchic oikos for her. However, the kite mother continues helping the daughter in times of need. The evil wives discover this and kill the Kite by treachery. Finally, one day, in the absence of the husband, they sold her off to a peddler who came to vend stationery items. Surprisingly, the peddler treated her well, so much so that, when one day the merchant nearly finds her, she tries not to be found by him to avoid going back to the past anarchic oikos. Meanwhile, she learns pottery from the peddler and becomes a renowned potter herself. Thus, because of the kite she is endowed with an integrative oikos from which she was thrown out by her potter father’s desire for a male child.

Such folk tales produce alternative perspectives upholding concern, abundance, and care for all living beings. Assamese folktale “Tula and Teja” (Bezbaroa 1911/2020), shows how the elaagi, or the alienated wife, is killed by the laagi, favourite wife. Elaagi turns into a turtle and feeds her children Kanai (son) and Teja (daughter). Laagi finds out from her daughter Tula about this arrangement. She gets the turtle killed and “two trees bearing fruits and flowers” (p.21) grow at her burial spot. The fruit and flower bearing tree also stands as a symbol of the maternal instincts of nature who is ‘giving’ rather than ‘receiving’. Attracted by fruits and flowers, one day a king comes to the place and spots the beautiful Teja. He eventually marries her, turning her into a queen, all by the blessings of the dead human-mother who metamorphosed into several non-human forms. However, the evil designs of Laagi don’t end. She invites Teja home and turns her into a sparrow and sends Tula in her place as the queen. However, the truth unveils and the King orders Tula to be killed and Teja is reinstated as the Queen in her human form. Tales like this are suggestive of exploitation of nature (animals and trees) vis-a-vis women. The oikos keep mutating until they are integrative which might be a suggestive of a hopeful future for the world if humans identify the concept of conscientizacao. The constant transmutation of forms also upholds an “anti-class posture” of deep ecology that thrives on “principles of ecological egalitarianism and of symbiosis” (Naess, 2005, p. 2).

Another recurring animal motif in folktales is that of snakes. In a typical male-centered tale, a snake is usually seen as a rival phallus and hence meant to be killed. Alternately, in women-centered tales, snakes are seen as husbands, lovers, helpers etc. (see Ramanujan, 1991). In “Champavati” (Bezbaroah 1911/2011), a python falls in love with Champavati, the daughter of the abandoned wife, Elaagi, and is married off to it.  The perceived terror of the mother-daughter turns into good fortune when the snake-husband treats Champavati like a princess and clads her in riches. Seeing this Laagi, the favourite wife, forces the husband to find a python-husband for her daughter as well. Their evil plan hatched out of greed results in disaster as the python devours his wife. Such tales reflect the necessity of communion with nature while focusing on raising consciousness. If humans ‘use’ nature for fulfilling their material needs alone without paying heed to the reciprocity of the relation, disasters are bound to happen.

The ability to mutate into non-human a form is also seen in “Taibang Meena Harinongnang Onba” (e-pao.net, 2012), a Manipuri folktale. The father left the family and on his return several years later, he, unknowingly, gets attracted towards his own daughter, now a beautiful young woman. Ashamed and feeling defiled by the thought, the daughter first turns into a fish and eventually into a parrot and flies away to hills far away—a symbolic and literal flight away from her life of shame.

A Tripuri folktale titled “The Hornbill” (Tyagi, 2020) relates the transmutation of a woman into a Hornbill. Sampari, the wife, worked hard to make two ends meet while Kachak, the husband, wiled always his days in alcohol. One day a bear comes out of the jungle and takes the baby away as Kachak is engrossed in playing flute. Sampari returns from the field only to realize the irresponsibility of Kachak and the resultant disaster.  She curses Kachak:

…in the next birth you will be a bird and your beak will be as long as your flute. Your voice will be coarse and harsh. Your wife will watch her eggs without moving till the young birds can fly. You will have to feed the mother bird all throughout the day. You alone will have to do all the work and there will be no one to help you. (p.14)

Mellor (1996) puts it, “before patriarchal domination of human societies, woman-centred societies existed that were more egalitarian and ecologically benign” (p.151). The folktale displays a non-human world in which the females would lead a life exemplifying that of the men’s (human) world.

A folktale from Manipur, “Sakhi Darlong” (Tyagi, 2020), presents a classic case of exploitation of Mother Nature and transmutation of living forms. A Jhumia named Shyamacharan hunted a deer and took it home only to find a human spirit coming out of it. They eventually get married on the agreement that he will never reveal her true (deer) self. One day, years later, the intoxicated Shyama reveals the secret to their children and the wife turns into a deer and goes away to the forest. She continues feeding her children nonetheless. In the meantime, the new wife of Shyama entreats him to kill the deer which then takes the form of a Simul tree to feed her children. Shyama cuts off the tree and she finally transmutes into a fish and takes away her children in search of an integrative oikos in the sea. This tale replicates the philosophy of “Gaia” which postulates a sense of transcendence between all life forms. The non-human spirit goes through an extended event of persecution even as she takes care of her human children. The tale reiterates that nature is magnanimous and ‘giving’.

The fish and water are in themselves connected to the idea of life and birth. The symbolic meaning of fish differs from culture to culture, but by and large, it represents good luck, and prosperity and is also connected to the idea of the sacred feminine (Clifford 2021). The medium in which it travels freely is water, which is itself considered to be a metaphor for higher level of awareness, thought-process, intelligence and esoteric knowledge (Clifford 2021). The mother turning into a fish and and taking her children along into her water kingdom is symbolic of a hopeful, happier and meaningful future.

Likewise, in “The Stork Girl” (Tyagi, 2020), a flock of Storks lend one feather each to the protagonist, Arti, to fly away to find her integrative oikos far from the anarchic oikos created by her aunt. Thus, the folk story-telling method could be the best way to address environmental ills while asserting on the requisite to be an involved listener.

Conclusion

That the earth has itself intervened to revise those habits of thought that are based on the Cartesian dualism that arrogates all intelligence and agency to the human while denying them to every other kind of being? (Amitav Ghosh 2016, para. 14.8).

A woman’s culturally fashioned life-forms, her perspectives, are different from a man’s and hence the meanings of elements change. The reading of the select folktales from Northeast India illustrate that “genders are genres” and that “the world of women is not the world of men” (Dharwadker, 2004, p.446). Thus, the gender of the genre becomes imperative in interpretation.

Human history has frequently romanticized interpretations of Utopia, the unspoiled world, where people live in harmony and in sync with nature. With no signs of natural calamity or crisis of human desires, such Utopias solemnize happier human experiences and designs of ‘orderliness’ for human cultures to practice. Along with respecting nature, the select folktales foreground values like cooperation, reciprocity, and nurturing. The tales also emulate woman-nature propinquity and locate and uphold women’s voices in the domain of ‘nature-culture’ as well as “counter and complement the attitudes of the male-centred tales” (Ramanujan, 1991, xxxi). This culminates in the Ecofeminist perception of (logically) challenging binaries like humans/animals, culture/nature, man/woman, self/other, etc., while decreeing that human identity is neither fixed nor predefined, rather it is sculpted by the seamless associations or differences of human-nature interface.

Declaration of Conflicts of Interests

The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest.

Funding

No funding has been received for the publication of this article. It is published free of any charge.

Note

[1] The term ‘ecology’ has Greek etymology and is derived from two words ‘oikos’, meaning ‘home’ or ‘household’ or ‘habitation’ or ‘place to live’ and ‘logos’ meaning ‘study’ or ‘discourse’. (Verma, P. S. and V. K. Aganval. (1989). Principles of Ecology. p. 4.)

References

Bal, Mieke. (2002). Travelling concepts in the humanities: A rough guide. Toronto University Press

Buell, Lawrence, Ursula K. Heise, and Karen Thornber. (2011). Literature and environment. Annual Review of Environment and Resources 36 (1), 417–440. doi:10.1146/annurev-environ-111109-144855.

Baruah, H. & Dey, T. (2005). Environmental studies. Divya Prakashan.

Bezboroah, Lakhshminath. (2011). Grandmas tales. (Pallabi Barua, Trans.). Hornbill Publications. Originally published 1911.

Clifford, Garth C. (2021). “Fish Symbolism & Meaning (+Totem, Spirit & Omen). Retrieved from https://worldbirds.com/fish-symbolism/

Debray, Régis. (2000). Transmitting culture: European perspectives. Columbia University Press.

Davies, Roger J., and Osamu Ikeno. (Eds). (2002). The Japanese mind: understanding contemporary Japanese culture. Tuttle.

Devy. G.N, ed. (2002). Painted words- An anthology of tribal literature. Penguin.

Dey, T. (2015). Folk tales of north east India: A relook for environmental studies classroom transaction. Pedagogy of Learning, 3(2), 14-27.

Dharwadker, Vinay, ed. (2004). The collected essays of A.K. Ramanujan. Oxford University Press.

Frederick, Suresh. (2012). Contemporary contemplation on ecoliterature. Authorpress.

Freire, P. (1972). “Conscientizing as a way of liberating.” Anonymous (Ed). Washington:  USCC Division for Latin America.

Gaard, Greta (ed.) (1993). Ecofeminism: women, animals, nature. Temple University Press.

Gaard G, P.D. Murphy. (Ed.s). (1998). Ecofeminist literary criticism: theory, interpretation, pedagogy. Univ. Illinois Press.

Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von. (1797/2008). Hermann and Dorothea. Dodo Press.

Lal, Hari Shankar, Sanjay Singh, P.K. Mishra. (2014). Trees in Indian mythology. Discovery 12 (29), 16-32.

Latour, Bruno. (2013). Facing gaia: six lectures on the political theology of

nature. Gifford lectures on natural religion. http://www.bruno-latour.fr.

Lupho, Lal. (2009, July 20). Some selected folklore of Lupho. Retrieved from http://www.e-pao.net/epSubPageExtractor.asp?src=manipur.Folks.Folk_Tales.Lupho_Folklores

Lovelock, James. (1979/2000). Gaia: A new look at life on earth. Oxford University Press.

Mellor, M. (1996). The politics of women and nature: Affinity, contingency or material relation? Journal of Political Ideologies, 1 (2), 147-164.

Naess, A. (2005). The shallow and the deep, long-range ecology movement: A summary. In A. Drengson & H. Glasser (Eds.), Selected Works of Arne Naess. Springer.

Northeast Writers’ Forum. (2005). Fresh fictions. Katha.

Oinam, James. Mama potkabi: The wicked stepmother. (2018, May 13). Retrived from http://www.e-pao.net/epSubPageExtractor.asp?src=manipur.Folks.Folk_Tales.Mama_Poktabi_The_Stepmother_Folktale_By_James_Oinam

Porselvi, Mary Vidya. (2011). Mother earth discourse as conscientizacao: An ecofeminist approach to select folktales from India. [Doctoral Dissertation. Univ of Madras].

Rafy, K.U. (2011). Folk-tales of the khasis. Project Gutenberg. https://www.gutenberg.org/files/37884/37884-h/37884-h.htm#ch4

Ramanujan, A. K. (1997). “A flowering Tree”: A woman’s tale. Oral Tradition Journal, 12 (1), 226-243.

Ramanujan, A. K. (1991). Folktales from India: Oral Tales from Twenty Indian Languages. Pantheon.

Sandrembi and Chairsa. (2009, Dec. 7). Retrieved from http://www.e-pao.net/epSubPageExtractor.asp?src=manipur.Folks.Folk_Tales.Sandrembi_and_Chaisra

Sepie, Amba J. (2017). More than stories, more than myths: animal/human/nature(s) in traditional ecological worldviews. Humanities, 6(78); doi:10.3390/h6040078

Shiva, Vandana. (2010). Staying alive- women, ecology and development. South End Press.

Taibang Meena Harinongnang Onba. (2012, July 23). Retrieved from http://www.e-pao.net/epSubPageExtractor.asp?src=manipur.Folks.Folk_Tales.A_Human_turning_into_Harinongnang_Taibang_Meena_Harinongnang_Onba

Tan, C. (2020). An ecofeminist study of the anthropocene age in David Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas. RumeliDE Dil ve Edebiyat Ara?t?rmalar? Dergisi, 19, 628-649.

Tyagi, D.K. (2020). Tribal folktales of tripura. Tribal Research and Cultural Institute, Govt. of Tripura.

Verma, P. S. and V. K. Aganval. (1989). Principles of Ecology. S. Chand & Company.

Wahl, Daniel Christian. (2016). Designing regenerative cultures. Traiarchy Press.

Warren J., Karen. (1997). Ecofeminism: women, culture, nature. Indian University Press. 

Zephyretta. (2011, May 23). Four folktales from Arunachla Pradesh. Retrieved from https://pasighat.wordpress.com/2011/05/23/four-folktales-from-arunachal-pradesh/

Dr. Pronami Bhattacharyya is an Assistant Professor in English at Royal Global University, Guwahati, Assam. She did her PhD on African American Literature from Tezpur Central University. Apart from being an academician, she is a passionate birder and nature enthusiast who has covered more than 400 species of rare birds all over the Northeast, Rajasthan and West-Bengal till date, some of which are on the verge of extinction. She is also in the process of publishing a book on Species Extinction focusing on 17 select species on the IUCN Red list from all over the world.

“The forest is my wife”: The Ethno-political and Gendered Relationship of Land and the Indigene

///
3.6K views

Karyir Riba
Department of English, North-Eastern Hill University, Shillong, India. ORCID: 0000-0001-8408-4464. Email: karyir.riba.ap@gmail.com

Rupkatha Journal, Vol. 14, Issue 2, April-June, 2022, Pages: 1-9. https://doi.org/10.21659/rupkatha.v14n2.ne18

First published: June 24, 2022 | AreaNortheast India | LicenseCC BY-NC 4.0

(This article is published under Themed Issue on Literature of Northeast India)
Full-Text HTML Full-Text PDF Cite
PlumX Metrics

Abstract

The imperative presence of land as a personified being in Indigenous Literatures asserts the crucial connection between land and the native ‘self’ in defining ‘indigeneity’. While this ‘self’ is often reclaimed in a wrestle against the geo-political confines of the nation-state; an indigenous woman, however, navigates ‘self’ in ways non-identical. Women’s connection to land, as opposed to indigenous men, shapes ethno-political struggle of proprietorship and rather builds upon shared feminine traits of fertility, nurture, and service. Focusing on the integration of gender and ecology as an important aspect of ecological critique on power and progress, this paper attempts to delineate the gendered relationship between the indigene and land. It delves into two important areas of study: firstly, probing the distinct ways the indigene ‘self’ unifies itself with the land, and secondly, critiquing the gendered dynamics involved in this merger. The study focuses on the emancipatory impediments of indigenous women by analysing select works of Easterine Kire and Mamang Dai, also, tangentially referring to a few other indigenous women’s writings from North East India.

Keywords: Land, Gender, Ethno-politics, Ecocriticism

When god-like Odysseus returned from the wars in Troy, he hanged all on one rope a dozen slave-girls…The girls were property, the disposal of property was then, as now, a matter of expediency, not of right and wrong… The ethical structure of that day covered wives, but had not yet been extended to human chattels. During the three thousand years which have since elapsed, ethical criteria have been extended to many fields of conduct, with corresponding shrinkages in those judged by expediency only. (Leopold, 1949, p. 201)

One may look at Aldo Leopold’s reference to Homer’s Odyssey in The Land Ethics (1949), and immediately recognize how Leopold set in motion reflective criticism of the position of ‘Man’ by critiquing Homer’s “god-like Odysseus” (p. 201), and attempted to redefine ‘community’ by problematizing the narrative of man as “conqueror of the land community” to “member and citizen of it”. Leopold stressed the necessity to see land and everything on it (both human and non-human) as a unified community, urging that “when we see land as a community to which we belong, we may begin to use it with love and respect” (p. 204).  This renewed meaning of community, in his words, could aid nurture an “ethic of care” (p. 204) that is organically fostered through ‘experience’ and ‘connection’ with the land. However, this inspiration of the “ethic of care” becomes the very site of inquiry and debate in this paper, in order to realize the gendered relationship of land and Indigene. In the discourse of ecofeminism, the vocabulary of care has been aggressively scrutinized upon the currency of care, for care is inspired chiefly by connected ‘experience’ of nature, “that reflect” as argued by Roger. J. H. King (1991), only and “typically male set of experiences of the world” and “aspects of Patriarchal thinking” (p. 76).

While land ethic of care has been a defining code of indigenous ontology, even before its academic acknowledgment through Leopold, this paper reflects on the limitations of the vocabulary of ‘care’ in insufficiently delineating heterogeneity of gendered experiences. Also, by occasionally subscribing to ecofeminist ideology that seeks resonance between women and land, the study focuses on the emancipation of Indigenous women whose identity is often caught or neglected in the hierarchy of larger structures of violence. As pointed out by Dai in her introductory note to the edited anthology, The Inheritance of Words, Writings from Arunachal Pradesh (2021) that “while the joys of motherhood, love of land and questions of the self are evoked…poignant with the anguish of love, they are also fierce with resistance against what it means to be a woman in a traditional society where inherent customary laws dictate how women live their lives, something that often results in untold suffering” (p. 3).

With special reference to Kire and Dai, and few references to other indigenous women writers from North East India, the paper wields on an interdisciplinary approach to explore natural and socio-cultural histories that have been governing and continues to govern the gendered heterogeneous experiences of native subjects – men and women. Pertinent to indigenous women’s writings that idiomatically juggle between feministic discourse and the issues of nation-state, tribal nationalism and nativity, the paper proposes that literary scholarship concerning native cultures requires a striding movement from post-colonial criticism to ‘native’ feminism. Kate Shanley, argues, in the context of Native Indian experience, that “the word ‘feminism’ has special meanings to Indian women, including the idea of promoting the continuity of tradition, and consequently, pursuing the recognition of tribal sovereignty” (1984, p. 215). In the impetus of decolonization and revival of roots movement, the recent decades in indigenous studies have seen a shift from mere political and spatial recognition of the otherwise historically contingent idea of indigeneity to acknowledging the intricacies of indigenous cultural histories from the native perspective. This according to Fabricant and Poestero (2018) is “perhaps the most provocative turn in indigenous studies” (p.137) which has been mobilizing scholars to exfoliate indigenous ontologies that had gone almost extinct in the hegemony of the western knowledge system. This turn in indigenous studies aims to shake intellectual terrains that have been building on the inherited binaries of European philosophy, by focusing on Indigenous knowledge and practices as “new modes of thought” (Cameron, 2014, p.19). Based on various indigenous practices, it lays careful attention to ontological pluralism (worldviews) and stresses reconsideration of epistemology by challenging euro-centric approach to meaning, knowledge, and power. However, in lieu of this development, arbitrating the intersection of gender and nativity continues to remain complex, as more than often feminist discourse is seen as antithetical or foreign to the codes of native epistemology. Arguing upon native women’s question of belonging, Ramirez argues that “too often the assumption in Native communities is that we as indigenous women should defend a tribal nationalism that ignores sexism as part of our very survival as women as well as our liberation from colonization” (2007, p. 22). This perplexity is pronounced in the select texts, for instance, the very usage of the word Adi word ‘Pensam’ (implying in-between, middle, belonging to both) in Dai’s (2006) The Legends of Pensam may be seen as an attempt to emphasize on the spatial complexity of contemporary native identity – an attempt to locate the appropriate bargain between the past and the future, and an attempt to gain agency over what needs to be continued or repudiated in the tide of change.

Hence, to recognize the intersection of gender and nativity in the context of Indigenous communities from North East India, ‘native-feminism/s’ that is ideologically quintessential to native experience is essentially requisite. The idiosyncratic illustration of native women’s renditions, for instance, reveals in depiction of Kirhupfumia in Kire’s When the River Sleeps (2014), with “vast store of knowledge” to answer “questions about spirit encounters” or to instruct if “what was to be done if a relative had touched stones that were taboo to touch” or to be consulted “on cures for fevers contracted in the forest… to disclose names of herbs in special areas, and how to use these to cure the fevers” (p, 146). It explains an indigenous woman’s rendition, not only as an active storyteller but also as a custodian of knowledge connected to nature, as the feminine resonance of women and non-human, that extends from the physical to the spiritual realm (feminine guardian spirits of rivers and forests). Or even the silent appraisals in indigenous women’s writings from Arunachal Pradesh, critiquing among others, the practice of polygamy sanctioned by customary norms – to be “traded for few mithuns to my father” (Reena, 2021, p. 44) and “when the children are grown, he decides to take another wife” (Dai, 2006, p. 77), highlighting the instrumental equivalency of women to the natural world coded in customary sanctions. Consequently, experiences of an indigenous woman traverse along multiple dimensions and the ‘self’ melds dual structures of enunciation – ‘indigeneity’ and ‘womanhood’. This then creates a spatial agency that is a combination of multifaceted voices. On the one hand, there are the concerns for representation – importance of native ontology in reasserting the connection of land and indigene, geo-political histories, tribal nationalism, etc. – and on the other, the emancipation of the feminine ‘self’. What makes this emancipation even more difficult is the calculated negotiation of self in the hierarchy of tribal nationalism, ecology, and gender.

With natives’ proximity to land, one of the first underlining issues, voiced in Indigenous women’s writings, is concerned with the various parameters of indigeneity and land-related ethnopolitics that differ for women and men. The heterogeneity of gendered participation, especially in land-related policies, materializes in matters of protection, ownership, and custody, which range from concerns of proprietorship to ethno-political concerns of instrumental subjugation of land. Whence, indigenous women are placed oust the value hierarchy of decision making. It is pertinent, however, to realize that penetration of the colonial idea of ‘ownership’ in native ethno-politics today, stands in contrast to a native ontology that revered safekeeping of the land. Dai (2006) calls it “tribal modified” (p. 175), indicating metamorphosis into modernity that prioritizes economic health over eco-centric indigenous practices. Dai’s The Legends of Pensam (2006) serves as a silent satire on this ironic shift in the meaning of indigeneity and its connection to the land. The recurrent presence of land as a personified being, in most of her works, distances land from being a mere geo-political entity, often nurturing the very consciousness and memory of its people. It taps on reviving the indigenous philosophy of ‘community’ that one shares with others, which is found in interdependency. (Kwaymullina, 2005, p. 2) As Ambelin Kwaymullina (2005) explains:

For Aboriginal peoples, country is much more than a place. Rock, tree, river, hill, animal, human – all were formed of the same substance by the Ancestors who continue to live in land, water, sky. Country is filled with relations speaking language and following Law, no matter whether the shape of that relation is human, rock, crow, wattle. Country is loved, needed, and cared for, and country loves, needs, and cares for her peoples in turn. Country is family, culture, identity. Country is self. (para. 2)

Dai draws on the Adi ontological credence of the interdependency of nature and man, both defending each other, by crafting the narrative of her historical fiction around the personified depiction of nature – river, forest, mountains, etc.  River and Mountains hold deep agency in Adi Abangs (oral histories/folk songs), serving as a crucial blueprint in trailing migratory routes and oral histories of the first Adi settlements. The river as a guiding agent in The Black Hill (2017) to direct Gimur’s destiny and the eminence of high mountain ranges standing as a barricade against the British invasion symbolizes the interdependent relationship of guidance and protection. Dai taps on the Adi folk philosophy of the river being alive, possessing a soul, a path through which the spirits of the ancestors travel. Contamination of the river is thus reflective of the end of cultural memory– “Our river must not be interrupted” (Dai, 2009, p. 45).  This philosophy of ‘personification of nature’ and interdependency of land and human, charges most of her works. It finds relevance in the deepening awareness of the fragility of the earth’s ecology and its grave implications for human survival.

Korff Jens (2021) stresses specifically the importance of studying the aboriginal perspective/worldview relating to Land. In his article “Meaning of land to Aboriginal people”, he argues that the key difference in the relationships people share with the land is rooted in the treatment of land as a ‘source’, which according to him is found in the dependency of a non-indigenous to ‘live off’ the land (land as capital) and the interdependency of the aboriginals to ‘live with’ the land (land as being).

“The latter has a spiritual, physical, social and cultural connection… and a profound spiritual connection to land. Aboriginal law and spirituality are intertwined with the land, the people and creation, and this forms their culture and sovereignty” (para. 1,5).

Obstinately, the two opposing ideas of ‘interdependency’ vs ‘ownership’ have assimilated to form a crude territorial ethno-politics that serve as power politics over eco-centric indigeneity. The gradually shifting matrix of native ‘land ethics’ from eco-centric ontology to a neo-colonial capitalist niche for control and possession are of the few concerns that Dai portrays in her works, in a wrestle to strike a balance between Land as community vs Land as capital. “Tribal modified” (p.175) as expressed in Dai’s Legends of Pensam, points at the change in social order and practices that differ from traditional forms, especially one that relates to concerns of land-human interaction. Referring to the pan-Maori ethnification in Newzealand, Elizabeth Rata (1999), in “Theory of Neotribal Captalism”, points at the various ways in which Maori natives attained legal ownership of land but consequently succumbed to its susceptible capitalization and commodification in strategic ways. Though different in terms of geo-political history, this susceptibility can be understood in the context of the indigenous lands in the Northeast India as well, particularly in the ongoing capitalization and commodification of tribal lands for resource extraction. The seemingly sustainable eco-political modules that aims to hybridize different land ontologies by merging indigenous land-based practices to settler based legal institutions – a situation argued by Burow (2018) as “conceiving of and relating to land, through their own practices and those created by settlers and settler-state institutions” (p.57) – is only begetting a new set of class structure within the indigenous populace. The gradual development of neo-tribal capitalism, that benefits a select few, may be seen as the most violent shift in tribal land ethics. In the wake of the neo-capitalist propagations, as revealed by Binita Kakati (2021), there have been constant alterations to the landscape in the aftermath of the so-called developments:

the valley rang with the sound of explosions – to make new roads into the valley. As we sat listening to birdsong and people’s stories, the deafening explosion felt even louder in the knowledge that nature seems to exist only to be taken. (Kakat, 2021, para 13)

Critiquing the connection between domination of nature and domination of women, Roger King argues that “the failures of moral perception and thought that can be found in the human relation to nature are symptomatic of similar failures to be found in the relations between women and men” (King, 1991, p. 75). While Dai’s The Legends of Pensam traverses towards the agency of ‘change’, Kire actively engages in critiquing the liminalities in this transition. Often invoking gendered codes hidden within the narratives of tribal culture, especially those that deal with the integration of women and nature, tied to their “umbilical chords” (p. 88). Women’s body and the physical manifestation of nature continue to be a recurrent site of resistance to essentialized feminine biologism. This integration is manifested under the traits of procreation and nurture as feminine strength versus feminine ‘essentialism’. In When the River Sleeps (2014) Ville lingers in the comfort of Earth as “mother” (p. 102), “the forest” his “wife” while at the same time the Kirhupfumia stands as antithetical to the conventional notion of motherhood, destined to “never have children” (p. 147) and the “widow-women” (p. 101) guards the river “shouting curses on the two men” (p. 104) for violating the sleeping river. Kire, thus, challenges the notions of feminine essentialism and attempts to break down the essentialized connection of women and nature, affixed in feminine biologism of reproduction and nurture, de-aligning biology as the overseer of women’s lives but social relations (Beauvoir, 2011). Indigenous women’s writings, as also in the works of Dai, tussle against biologic instrumentality of women “like a fermented bean/ left to procreate” (Reena, 2021, p. 45) and the replicating capitalized treatment of nature as an instrumental resource than an inherent being. This idiomatic interconnection of women’s experience to nature and species has been infamously criticized as anti-feminist by feminist scholars, for further grounding the assumed subsidiary position of women and nature to men.

Questioning the pan-cultural tendencies of women’s association to nature, in her article “Is Female to Male as Nature is to Culture”, Sherry B. Ortner (1974) highlights three ideological categories/tendencies that strengthen the supposed connection of nature and women: 1. Woman’s physiology, seen as closer to nature, 2. Woman’s social role, seen as closer to nature, 3. Woman’s psyche, seen as closer to nature (p. 74-81). Ortner critiques this logic of culture” (p.76) that places women as subordinate to men due to their assumed closeness to nature. However, in the context of Native women’s experience, the association between nature and humans cannot be negated. Nativity is innately linked to land, and indigenous ontologies are derived from and for it. This focus is crucial to dissect as well as identify normative regulations governing indigenous experiences that need to be reevaluated, not with the seee purpose of drawing a relationship between the two but to critique and understand its socio-cultural implications. In her photo-essay-poetry, “No Questions, No Comparisons”, Padu (2021) engages in this dialogue of dissimilarity in women’s experience through her inability to “compare myself with the women who have fought for equal rights and equal wages around the world” (p. 112), explaining women’s emancipatory hurdles arising in different cultural expressions – “I am weighed in numbers of cattle rather than gold” (p. 114). This difference in cultural expression may or may not be a dividing factor in universal concerns about womanhood, but acknowledging indigenous women’s experience is essential to their liberation.

Indigenous Women’s writings echo the ethnopolitical and ecological questions that oust women’s participation in decision making. Karry Padu’s (2021) “I am Property, A Photo essay”, published in Dai’s edited anthology The Inheritance of Words raises questions relevant to Galo women’s political and domestic experience. As it is scarce for women to participate in the public sphere of decision-making, it questions women’s involvement in their “rights under the guidance of a man” (p. 108). Padu confesses her existential ethos on being a “tribal woman” that binds her to “customs and tales of the ancestors” and her expected demeanor as a Galo woman, a “daughter” that “belongs to this land… (who is) its property!” (p.109). This question of ‘belonging to the land as a property’ may take us back to the initial reference made to Leopold’s (1949) criticism of Odysseus who “hanged all on one rope a dozen slave-girls…The girls were property, the disposal of property was then, as now, a matter of expediency, not of right and wrong” (p. 201). The locus of Leopold’s argument is in understanding the expediency of human ethics that he argues should begin to extend its ethical periphery to nature. The viability of this reference strikes the most important question, particularly, in the wake of hybridized tribal nationalism, as to how far has women’s identification with land been altered, both in terms of subjectivity and instrumentality. It taps on the inflexibility of tribal hybridized movement, that seems to be melding the best of both worlds – sustainability of indigenous episteme to the progressiveness of transnationalism yet fails to recognize how indigenous women’s emancipatory issues have been placed at the bottom of the various political expediencies of power and policies of land ownership.

One cannot trace to segregate how social narratives of gendered socio-political dynamics came to existence in indigenous communities. Whether colonial capitalism continues to penetrate tribal ethno-politics or has cultural narratives inherently sanctioned men to be leaders and women, like nature, compliant followers. Both Dai and Kire unceasingly borrow from folk narratives and customs to critique these gender relations, synthesizing cultural histories to critique “The laws of birth, life and death …fixed and unchangeable” (Dai, 2006, p. 77). Traditional narratives navigating women’s rendition are thus embedded in archetypal evidence (universal symbols) as a means of identity construction and are redefined for a rational identification with the modern world.

In Gender and Folk Narratives: Theory and Practice (2013), Neelakshi Goswami talks about three areas of concern in the folkloristic literature; firstly, how women have been portrayed, the second one relates to the questions of women’s aesthetics and the third involves how women have been recognized as artists. Folk narratives connected to the heroic tales of clan-heads revolve around legends of warriors who sacrificed their lives for the protection of their clan. These heroes were projected as symbols of protection, bravery, and authority. The feminine traits, however, projected in the tales of goddesses and fairies as deities of harvest, are symbolic of fertility and prosperity. On cultural identity, philosopher William James argues that identity comprises two modes of thoughts—the ‘paradigmatic mode’ (present) and the ‘narrative mode’. And narratives as ‘modes’ constructing identities “provides models of the world” (qted.in Burner, 1986, p. 25).

Archetypal male figures have often been projected as protectors with the burden of social relations and welfare. In Dai’s The Black Hill (2017) this accounts for the public and political participation of Kajinsha and the male heads of other tribes in their fight against the British to protect their land, while Gimur is found to have been actively involved in settling the trajectories of her private life, as her quest being more domestic than political. Kajinsha becomes a martyr of the clan and Gimur’s misery is manifested through the loss of a child and spouse. The matter of concern here is to understand the public-private dichotomy and the traits of bravery and fertility attached to the concerned ‘subjects’. Evidently, the narratives surrounding gender can control resultant ‘gender performativity’, but more importantly, what remains implicit is the interplay of absent narratives in shaping the symbol of the ‘female subject’. Commenting on the importance of “the public/private debate” as an important trajectory of feminist folklore, Margaret Mill argues that “Women genres can be less public and dramatic and hence less visible compared to male genres…especially personal experiences narratives, tend to flourish in the private domain” (qtd. in Goswami, 2013, p. 7).  The lack of ethnographic narratives that would articulate the possibility of juxtaposing traits of bravery, protection, or public participation to ‘female subject’, makes it nearly impossible for Gimur to be projected as equal to Kajinsha in the public arrangement. What governs Gimur’s character is not evident in what was present in an ancestral past but in the absences and lapses in feminine representation that continue to control and govern the ‘feminine subject’. The “subject” of gender as sites of inquiry ignites numerous questions pertaining to identifying what the subjects signify. “The idea of ‘process’ or ‘becoming’” (Salih, 2007, p. 3) is significantly crucial in understanding subject formation which situates key importance on history to recognize the synthesizers that regulate it (Butler, 2006). Dai’s writings investigate how elements of culture operate and regulate the functioning of the social structure.

The significance of narratives in identity formation as asserted by Burner, is in understanding how “human being achieves (or realizes) the ability not only to mark what is culturally canonical but to account for deviations that can be incorporated in narratives” (Burner, 1987, p. 68). This deviation, found in the critique of fixed cultural edifices, forms an important agency in Indigenous Women’s Writings. The emancipation of ‘self’ combines elements of cultural memory, and socio-political resistance while attempting to identify the codified cultural fetters. This posits, as mentioned earlier, the urgency to theorize a native-feminist discourse that acknowledges ‘experiences’ shaped in lieu of traditional ontologies. Indigenous women’s emancipation can only be achieved by rethinking ‘community’. To rethink the gendered connection to the land and the indigene towards formulating a tribal nationalism, can effectively mark the possibility of distancing from the western notion of tribal sovereignty. This would require building on the “native philosophical concept” of interdependency, as argued by Ramirez, “rather than creating a hierarchy between the group and individual rights, that a respectful interchange between the two can be established” (2007, p. 31).

Declaration of Conflicts of Interests

The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest.

Funding

No funding has been received for the publication of this article. It is published free of any charge.

References:

Beauvoir, D. S., Borde, C., & Malovany-Chevallier, S. (2011). The Second Sex (1st ed.). Vintage.

Bruner, J. (1987). Actual Minds, Possible Worlds. Harvard University Press.

Burow, P. B., Brock, S., & Dove, M. R. (2018). Unsettling the Land. Environment and Society, 9(1), 57–74. https://doi.org/10.3167/ares.2018.090105

Butler, J. (2006). Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (Routledge Classics) (1st ed.). Routledge.

Cameron, E., de Leeuw, S., & Desbiens, C. (2014). Indigeneity and ontology. Cultural Geographies, 21(1), 19–26. https://doi.org/10.1177/1474474013500229

Dai, M. (2006). Legends of Pensam. Penguin.

Dai, M. (2009). Stupid Cupid. Penguin Random House India.

Dai, M. (2017). Black Hill. Aleph Book Company.

Dai, M. (2021). The Inheritance of Words: Writings from Arunachal Pradesh. Zubaan Books.

Fabricant, N. (2018). The Indigenous Studies Turn. In J. Poblete (Ed.), New Approaches to Latin American Studies (pp. 128–143). Routledge.

Goswami, N., & Sarma, P. M. (2013). Gender in Folk Narratives. Macmillan Publishers.

Kakati, Binita. (2021, September 7). Conflict and development in Northeast India. Transnational

Institute. Retrieved February 20, 2022, from https://www.tni.org/en/article/conflict-and-

development-in-northeast-india

King, R. J. (1991). Caring about Nature: Feminist Ethics and the Environment. Hypatia, 6(1), 75–89. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1527-2001.1991.tb00210.x

Kire, E. (2014). When the River Sleeps. Zubaan Books.

Korff, J. C. S. (2021, September 2). Meaning of land to Aboriginal people. Creative Spirits. https://www.creativespirits.info/aboriginalculture/land/meaning-of-land-to-aboriginal-people#fnref2

Kwaymullina, A. (2005). Seeing the Light: Aboriginal Law, Learning and Sustainable Living in Country. Indigenous Law Bulletin, 6(11). http://www.austlii.edu.au/au/journals/IndigLawB/2005/27.html

Leopold, A. (1949). The Land Ethics. In A Sand County Almanac AND SKETCHES HERE AND THERE (pp. 201–204). Oxford University Press.

Ortner, S. B. (1974). Is Female to Male as Nature Is to Culture? In M. Z. Rosaldo & L. Lamphere (Eds.), Woman, culture, and society (pp. 74–81). CA: Standford University Press.

Padu, K. (2021). I Am Property: A Photo Essay. In M. Dai (Ed.), The Inheritance of Words: Writings

from Arunachal Pradesh (pp. 108–116). Zubaan Publishers.

Ramirez, R. (2007). Race, Tribal Nation, and Gender: A Native Feminist Approach to Belonging. Meridians, 7(2), 22–40. https://doi.org/10.2979/mer.2007.7.2.22

Rata, E. (1999). The Theory of Neotribal Capitalism. Review (Fernand Braudel Center), 22(3), 231–288. https://www.jstor.org/stable/40241459

Reena, N. (2021). My Ane’s Tribal Love Affair. In M. Dai (Ed.), The Inheritance of Words: Writings from Arunachal Pradesh (pp. 43–48). Zubaan Publishers.

Salih, S. (2007). Judith Butler (Routledge Critical Thinkers) (1st ed.). Routledge.

Shanley, K. (1984). Thoughts on Indian Feminism. In B. Brant (Ed.), In a Gathering of Spirit: Writing and Art by North American Indian Women (p. 215). ME: Sinister Wisdom Books.

Karyir Riba is a Research Scholar in the Department of English at the North-eastern Hill University, Shillong, Meghalaya. She specialises in interdisciplinary and comparative literary studies. Her area of research and interest include Folk Literature, Indigenous Women’s Writings, and contemporary discourses on Indigenous Studies.