Forest rights in India reflect correlative duties of tribal communities to preserve wildlife and it is in consonance to the fundamental duty under Article 51 A(g)
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A recent news report published by Down to Earth revealed the killing of over 200 wild animals in West Bengal’s Junglemahal forest area by the local tribal population. The animals were killed as part of the centuries-old annual hunting season observed by Adivasis known as Shikar Utsav. There are two opposing views on the issue — while one part supports it as a traditional customary ritual of indigenous people, others oppose it in the name of wildlife conservation and animal rights. Hunting has been a core part of human civilisation since the beginning. It became deeply embedded in human cultures along with agriculture, fishing and gathering. Some of the oldest cave paintings also depict scenes of hunting. Many of the Saharan Rock Art dating back to the Bubalus period between 10,000 BCE and 7,000 BCE, showcases several scenes of hunting and the relationship between humans and animals. Moving ahead to the Middle Ages and the colonial period, hunting has been depicted in many paintings and later in photographs. In India, Mughal paintings often depicted kings going out for hunting tours. The Akbarnamahas several scenes of Akbar’s hunting expeditions, often assisted by his pet cheetahs. It was a symbol of power. The same was followed by the British colonial masters of India. On a single day on December 25, 1911 during the visit of King George V, 39 tigers, 18 rhinoceroses, four bears and a leopard were killed in the Terai region of the Indo-Nepal border. George Yule, a British civil servant, killed more than 400 tigers and Geoffrey Nightingale shot more than 300. Between 1875 and 1925, at least 50,000 tigers were slain in India according to estimates based on home department records. Post-independence, the genuine need to protect India’s wildlife was realised and in 1952, the Indian Wildlife Board was constituted to centralise all rules and regulations relating to wildlife conservation in the country. One of the most landmark actions by the board was to accord the status of ‘Sanctuary’ / ‘National Park’ to the all erstwhile game reserves in the country. In 1972, the stringent Wild Life (Protection) Act, 1972 was a major step towards wildlife conservation. The Act classified animals into different schedules based on the need for protection, and hunting of these species was outlawed and penalties were prescribed in case of violations. This legislation played a major role in protecting India’s rich wildlife. But on the other hand, it rendered traditional hunting rights practised by many tribal communities illegal. The traditional right to hunt wild animals has been recognised by many legal systems across the globe. Australian courts and legislatures have recognised the native title rights of Torres Strait Islanders and Aboriginal Australians and have included the drowning of dugongs, harpooning of turtles and even killing the turtles with strong blows to their heads. Some of these rights also include breaking the necks of mutton-bird chicks. Cruel as it appears, these customary hunting activities have been exempted from Australia’s Animal Care and Protection Act of 2001. However, when we deal with the Indian laws, we have a different scenario. Section 3(l) of The Scheduled Tribes & Other Traditional Forest Dwellers (Recognition of Forest Rights) Act, 2006 or Forest Rights Act (FRA) excludes the traditional right of hunting or trapping or extracting a part of the body of any species of wild animal. But the community right to hunt is prevalent in many tribal and traditional forest-dwelling communities. The traditional community rights associated with hunting are not immune from the criticism that they draw from conservation perspectives. For several tribal and other traditional forest-dwelling communities, reliance on a property-based framework instead of a regulatory one is significant to enforce their community rights to wildlife and forest resources. The native conservation servitude associated with wildlife in and around the protected areas draws its genesis way back to the long history of their existence. The native right to such natural wildlife capital is ingrained in their way of life. The FRA 2006, during its adoption, has ascertained these facets quite boldly and it was not pacifically accepted by conservationists too. However, with changing times, laws and their interpretations have also opined and opened the corridors of balancing arrangements, where the conflicting native rights of such communities and concerns of forest and wildlife conservationists do collide to finally come to a settlement. However, the question remains whether such customary practices associated with wildlife capital can be exercised without any affiliation of law. Some of the foreign judgments are of great relevance in this context. In The United States v Winans , the tribal access to fishing sites was under question. Native Americans in the US have several treaty rights. There is an enduring principle that treaties are reservations of rights by Native Americans and not grant of rights by the US federal government. In this case, the court found that there existed an easement to the traditional fishing sites and such easement operates as a servitude on the ceded property and private property owners may not interfere with the Indian use and enjoyment of it. Subsequently, in the United States, another landmark judgment on treaty rights held that the federal government may regulate treaty fishing rights in the interest of conservation, so long as the said regulation is reasonable and necessary as well as non-discriminatory against Native Americans. Furthermore, many such judgments (such as Sohappy v Smith, Washington v Washington State Commercial Passenger Fishing Vessel Association, etc) contributed to the evolution of treaty rights in the United States due to interpretation by the courts. In India, we are yet to witness such magnitude of judicial interpretations in a matter pertaining to customary rights to hunt wildlife. But one cannot rule out the role of tribal trusteeship in wildlife, even its existence and relevance in the deep remote dense forests of India. This is because they are an essential attribute of sovereignty as it deals with such species to which several such indigenous communities have property and usufructuary rights. From the face of our national legislation on wildlife protection and forest conservation, it is quite clear that such communities may not assert this trusteeship over wildlife capital. But in a way, they retain certain significant aspects of their trusteeship towards forests and wildlife that are well-matched and compatible with their rights recognised by the law (such as the FRA). However, one question looms: Is the State’s public trusteeship over such wildlife and forest resources subservient to such customary tribal rights which, although not codified, exists since time immemorial? From several judgments on forest rights in India, we can establish that forest rights reflect correlative duties of such communities to preserve wildlife and it is in consonance to the fundamental duty under Article 51 A(g). We have instances to show how some tribes have given up their customary hunting rights for the conservation of wildlife and environment, at large. The Angami tribe of Nagaland gave up their hunting rights, which was connected to their right to livelihood. The Nyishi tribe in Arunachal Pradesh, who once hunted hornbills and used their beaks to make headgears, are today successfully running a hornbill conservation movement. It is a matter of time when we truly realise the essence of intra and inter-generational equity from its core and realise the value of wild species even over our folklore and avaricious desires.To hunt or not
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Steve Ovett, the famous British middle-distance athlete, won the 800-metres gold medal at the Moscow Olympics of 1980. Just a few days later, he was about to win a 5,000-metres race at London’s Crystal Palace. Known for his burst of acceleration on the home stretch, he had supreme confidence in his ability to out-sprint rivals. With the final 100 metres remaining,
[wptelegram-join-channel link=”https://t.me/s/upsctree” text=”Join @upsctree on Telegram”]Ovett waved to the crowd and raised a hand in triumph. But he had celebrated a bit too early. At the finishing line, Ireland’s John Treacy edged past Ovett. For those few moments, Ovett had lost his sense of reality and ignored the possibility of a negative event.
This analogy works well for the India story and our policy failures , including during the ongoing covid pandemic. While we have never been as well prepared or had significant successes in terms of growth stability as Ovett did in his illustrious running career, we tend to celebrate too early. Indeed, we have done so many times before.
It is as if we’re convinced that India is destined for greater heights, come what may, and so we never run through the finish line. Do we and our policymakers suffer from a collective optimism bias, which, as the Nobel Prize winner Daniel Kahneman once wrote, “may well be the most significant of the cognitive biases”? The optimism bias arises from mistaken beliefs which form expectations that are better than the reality. It makes us underestimate chances of a negative outcome and ignore warnings repeatedly.
The Indian economy had a dream run for five years from 2003-04 to 2007-08, with an average annual growth rate of around 9%. Many believed that India was on its way to clocking consistent double-digit growth and comparisons with China were rife. It was conveniently overlooked that this output expansion had come mainly came from a few sectors: automobiles, telecom and business services.
Indians were made to believe that we could sprint without high-quality education, healthcare, infrastructure or banking sectors, which form the backbone of any stable economy. The plan was to build them as we went along, but then in the euphoria of short-term success, it got lost.
India’s exports of goods grew from $20 billion in 1990-91 to over $310 billion in 2019-20. Looking at these absolute figures it would seem as if India has arrived on the world stage. However, India’s share of global trade has moved up only marginally. Even now, the country accounts for less than 2% of the world’s goods exports.
More importantly, hidden behind this performance was the role played by one sector that should have never made it to India’s list of exports—refined petroleum. The share of refined petroleum exports in India’s goods exports increased from 1.4% in 1996-97 to over 18% in 2011-12.
An import-intensive sector with low labour intensity, exports of refined petroleum zoomed because of the then policy regime of a retail price ceiling on petroleum products in the domestic market. While we have done well in the export of services, our share is still less than 4% of world exports.
India seemed to emerge from the 2008 global financial crisis relatively unscathed. But, a temporary demand push had played a role in the revival—the incomes of many households, both rural and urban, had shot up. Fiscal stimulus to the rural economy and implementation of the Sixth Pay Commission scales had led to the salaries of around 20% of organized-sector employees jumping up. We celebrated, but once again, neither did we resolve the crisis brewing elsewhere in India’s banking sector, nor did we improve our capacity for healthcare or quality education.
Employment saw little economy-wide growth in our boom years. Manufacturing jobs, if anything, shrank. But we continued to celebrate. Youth flocked to low-productivity service-sector jobs, such as those in hotels and restaurants, security and other services. The dependence on such jobs on one hand and high-skilled services on the other was bound to make Indian society more unequal.
And then, there is agriculture, an elephant in the room. If and when farm-sector reforms get implemented, celebrations would once again be premature. The vast majority of India’s farmers have small plots of land, and though these farms are at least as productive as larger ones, net absolute incomes from small plots can only be meagre.
A further rise in farm productivity and consequent increase in supply, if not matched by a demand rise, especially with access to export markets, would result in downward pressure on market prices for farm produce and a further decline in the net incomes of small farmers.
We should learn from what John Treacy did right. He didn’t give up, and pushed for the finish line like it was his only chance at winning. Treacy had years of long-distance practice. The same goes for our economy. A long grind is required to build up its base before we can win and celebrate. And Ovett did not blame anyone for his loss. We play the blame game. Everyone else, right from China and the US to ‘greedy corporates’, seems to be responsible for our failures.
We have lowered absolute poverty levels and had technology-based successes like Aadhaar and digital access to public services. But there are no short cuts to good quality and adequate healthcare and education services. We must remain optimistic but stay firmly away from the optimism bias.
In the end, it is not about how we start, but how we finish. The disastrous second wave of covid and our inability to manage it is a ghastly reminder of this fact.