Adivasi Literature: a Gentle Introduction and Guide

Adivasi Literature: a gentle introduction for teachers and learners

This introduction is aimed at students, including those in Anglo-American universities, who may have little background knowledge about communities and cultures in India. For teachers interested in assigning a unit on Adivasi literature, check out the texts in the Primary Texts and Translations section. 

1. Let’s start with a poem by an Adivasi writer written around 2011. 

I am not your data 

By Abhay Flavian Xaxa

 

I am not your data, nor am I your vote bank,
I am not your project, or any exotic museum object,
I am not the soul waiting to be harvested,
Nor am I the lab where your theories are tested.

I refuse, reject, resist your labels,
your judgments, documents, definitions,
your models, leaders and patrons,
because they deny me my existence, my vision, my space.

 

Your words, maps, figures, indicators,
they all create illusions and put you on a pedestal,
from where you look down upon me.

So I draw my own picture, and invent my own grammar,
I make my own tools to fight my own battle,
For me, my people, my world, and my Adivasi self!

(Note: “Xaxa” is pronounced like “Khakha” – with an aspirated K sound) 

Basic Background. Before looking at this poem in greater depth, let’s give a little basic background about Adivasis: In South Asia, “Adivasi” means “original people” or “first people.” It describes a large number of people from different communities from all over the Indian subcontinent. There are more than 700 recognized communities (or Tribes), with large concentrations especially in eastern and central India (a region sometimes referred to as the “Tribal Belt”) and Northeastern India (the region bordering Myanmar). 

Some Adivasi communities were nomadic, while others had fixed settlements that remained ‘off the grid’ and culturally largely unaffected by the arrival of waves of outsiders, including the Mughal Empire, the British Empire, and even the postcolonial Indian state. The British in particular found their disregard for the legal system and their difference from the cultural norms of caste Hinduism threatening – and labeled them “Criminal Tribes.” After Indian independence, many of these communities have been granted protections under the Indian Constitution, including territorial rights over their forests. However, these are often contested and Adivasi communities frequently find themselves displaced by projects in the “national interest” – including especially mining projects and big dams. 

Adivasi communities have their own languages and religions – they are considered outside of caste, and many differentiate their religious beliefs and practices from mainstream Hinduism to this day (others have been brought into the fold, and do identify as Hindu). A substantial number of Adivasis have also converted to Christianity. 

A number of stereotypes of Adivasi people persist, including that they are exotic and primitive – images of “Tribals” are sometimes put forward by mainstream India as an example of radical cultural otherness, to be studied and appropriated. Their art and literature is sometimes studied in ethnographic frameworks rather than as the product of specific authors and artists. They are also said to have problems with alcohol and drugs. And Adivasi women are also often at great risk of sexual harassment and sexual assault. 

In some ways, Adivasis could be compared to indigenous communities in other parts of the world. Their experience does have some overlaps with Native American communities in the Americas, as well as indigenous communities in Australia and Aotearoa (New Zealand). However, the specific historic, legal, and territorial problems facing Adivasis in India today may be somewhat different from those facing other communities. 

In recent years, Adivasi communities have engaged with modern politics in India in any number of ways. The biggest shift was probably the creation of the state of Jharkhand, formerly part of Bihar. Jharkhand has a particularly high concentration of Adivasi communities, and its creation was long a demand of Adivasi activists like Jaipaul Singh Munda. However, mainstream political parties frequently appeal to Adivasis for their votes – trying to form “vote banks” they can rely on.   

Finally, it should be noted that Adivasis have historically been talked about quite a bit – and often not been given space to speak for themselves. Colonial era scholars and advocates like Verrier Elwin gave influential early accounts of Adivasi life and culture; more recently, the writer and activist Mahasweta Devi has been strongly associated with Adivasi issues and advocacy. However, increasingly writers from Adivasi backgrounds are insisting on speaking for themselves. 

Now, let’s go back to the poem we started with. All of the issues we discussed are represented here – the “vote banks” referenced in the first line, suggesting the author’s frustration with being exploited by mainstream political parties. 

The second and third lines also elegantly indicate the author’s refusal to be used by scholars and religious missionaries for their own purposes: 

I am not your project, or any exotic museum object,

I am not the soul waiting to be harvested,

As the poem progresses, Xaxa turns the tables on the addressee – indicating his aspiration to tell his own story and construct his own knowledge, rather than continue to be defined from without by a broad array of interested parties. 

The creation of a strong, self-conscious sense of Adivasi identity is often referred to by activists and writers as Adivasiyat (Adivasi-ness). To see more writing related to this theme, click on the Adivasiyat tab.

2. Let’s take a look at a second poem, by a writer named Nirmala Putul. 

This is called “Santhal Pargana” (or Santhal Division); the title refers to a region of what is today the state of Jharkhand that represents the ancestral homeland of the Santhal people.

Santhal Pargana (translated from Hindi)

By Nirmal Putul 

 

Santhal Pargana is no longer what it used to be!
Very few people remain here
in their native language and traditional attire.

Rushing toward the market,
everything has gotten muddled these days.
The great old trees have been uprooted,
and in the sprawling concrete jungle,
its identity has been lost.

Its very essence is being transformed.
Bows, arrows, mandals, drums, and flutes —
all are being gathered into folk museums,
loaded onto the funeral cart of time,
in the name of its “betterment.”

Like mushrooms after rain, institutions have sprung up,
housing so-called social workers,
officials, lackeys, contractors, middlemen —
and all of them,
with open, colorful bottles in hand,
are drafting plans at round tables.

In the bottles is intoxication.
Floating in that intoxication
are many Adivasi girls,
their tender bodies adrift.
The Adivasi girls have dreams —
within those dreams, incomplete desires.

There is hunger,
and in that hunger stretches a rugged land.
Upon the land are black, bare hills;
upon the hills — desolation…

That’s it!!!
What more is there in Santhal Pargana?
Not even “that much” remains
of Santhal Pargana
as there are stories
of its culture.

Some of the themes we saw in the Abhay Xaxa poem are repeated here – one notes the references to aspects of traditional Santhal culture that are being relegated to museums: 

Bows, arrows, mandals, drums, and flutes —
all are being gathered into folk museums,

(Note: in many Adivasi communities, traditional hunting in primeval forest plays an especially important ritual role, and the bow and arrow are culturally very important signifiers.)

But this poem also raises a number of issues that are a little different – including especially the negative impact of the encounter with modernity and globalization. In recent years, many Santhals have been leaving their homeland for economic opportunity elsewhere. Meanwhile, outsiders are coming in, drawing up plans for “development” – which often comes with exploitation of local natural resources. 

Along with cultural changes is the incursion of alcohol abuse – where women are specifically endangered. 

(For more on gender roles and feminism in Adivasi literature, click on our Gender Roles and Feminism tab. For more on the effects of displacement and development on Adivasi communities, click here or here) 

3. To conclude this introduction. Let’s look at a final example, a poem by Anuj Lugun called “Adivasi”:

Adivasi (translated from Hindi)

By Anuj Lugun

 

Those who live in comfort,
or are opportunists,
or who seek reservations,
say, “We are Adivasis.”

Those who want votes
say, “You are Adivasis.”

Those who preach religion
say, “You jungle Adivasis are savage.”

Those who believe
they are the real original inhabitants
say, “You are forest dwellers.”

But those who walk barefoot,
silently, along forest trails,
never say
“We are Adivasis.”

They know how to heal themselves
with wild herbs.

They understand the moods of the weather
by watching the movements of animals.

All the trees and plants,
mountains and hills,
rivers and waterfalls
know who they are.

Again, the poet is invoking certain stereotypes and political scenarios associated with the Adivasi experience in mainstream India – the myth that Adivasis are “savage,” for instance. Lugun also invokes the “vote bank” politics we saw in Abhay Xaxa’s poem. 

However, in the second half, this poem takes a somewhat more defiant and optimistic turn. Rather than fixate on labels and political identities, for Lugun the truth of the Adivasi experience is something different – something you can find only in a state of one-ness with nature, relying on folk knowledge about healing / medicine, about the movements and behaviors of animals, and about the broader environment. 

This ecological – or eco-indigenous – sensibility is a powerful through-line running through a great deal of Adivasi literature. To see more writings with an environmentalist sensibility, click on our “Environment” tag.