tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-363893442024-03-14T16:07:31.323+05:30dionnebunsha.comDionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.comBlogger81125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-79448805552419209192007-08-01T13:08:00.000+05:302007-08-01T19:11:45.561+05:30Gone with the Waves<span style="font-style:italic;">As the sea eats into the coast of south Gujarat, fishing villages are ruined.</span><br /><br />DIONNE BUNSHA<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCKnTQV3l2rM05V8x6xxKvx7g8Y3ucbthyphenhyphenzPLSLqg-zDkJ_Az0H9udxKgUVSgtROg-VZs8tqMFdk9gWgDkuhMZCVni30m30p99pjySThw0QYrx7pXsOV3fI_xXx4Uubdt2lx6F4A/s1600-h/P1010109.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCKnTQV3l2rM05V8x6xxKvx7g8Y3ucbthyphenhyphenzPLSLqg-zDkJ_Az0H9udxKgUVSgtROg-VZs8tqMFdk9gWgDkuhMZCVni30m30p99pjySThw0QYrx7pXsOV3fI_xXx4Uubdt2lx6F4A/s400/P1010109.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093637871194769506" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> Villagers with bricks retrieved from their old homes in Danti.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Danti is being invaded. More than half the residents have already fled this sleepy fishing village. But it isn't guns and troops that they are running away from. The sea that they revere and fish in has swallowed up the village, making people retreat further back every year. <br /><br />Only the poorest remain on the edge of the village, with just a sea wall for protection. On one side of the wall are lashing waves. And, on the other are ramshackle, makeshift huts. No one here has permanent brick homes. They have to rebuild every year, after the waters rush in over the wall. The ocean knows no boundaries.<br /><br />Govindbhai Tandel is the first to face its fury. His hut lies at the tip of the village, closest to the seafront, unprotected even by the stone wall. Govindbhai is back home after eight months at sea on his fishing boat. He returns to Danti in Valsad district during the monsoon, when it's too rough to go out to fish. But there's no rest at home. His family is hard at work filling their porch with sand, trying to elevate the entrance to prevent the tide from coming in. There's not much they can do. Water will flood their home anyways. It's only damage control.<br /><br />"We have moved back three kilometers in the last 20 years. Our original village was out there – 3 km in the sea. You can't even see it now," says Govindbhai. "Three village wells have been submerged. We've relocated the school thrice. I've shifted home thrice so far. Can you see out there? That's where my last house was," he says pointing to a distant spot in the sea.<br /><br />The village is long gone but lives on memory. As we walked around the village, most people pointed to various landmarks – all in the water. Nostalgia is the only thing that remains. During low tide, the beach is a hive of activity. Families are hard at work, trying to salvage bricks from the ruins of their old homes. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5U56znEbSgc1AgxJ0FbU0cSvdWHtK6RqzT8kUkmQGLuEm6q_BsEnYXBsdFlIfmQSw-NztVbyn5zfyDFVcb_mx8uxJZILd2RF9lT-kpe5mN23kEFk5N8mcwmBcVFXNP7IscZ9apg/s1600-h/P1010133.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5U56znEbSgc1AgxJ0FbU0cSvdWHtK6RqzT8kUkmQGLuEm6q_BsEnYXBsdFlIfmQSw-NztVbyn5zfyDFVcb_mx8uxJZILd2RF9lT-kpe5mN23kEFk5N8mcwmBcVFXNP7IscZ9apg/s400/P1010133.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093641010815862914" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>Salvaging the remains of homes that were submerged by the sea</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />On the sea shore is a brick wall with an arch - the remnants of Damentiben Tandel's house. "It broke three years back. Since then, we have kept moving and rebuilding every year," she says. "When the water comes in every monsoon, it's knee-high. Then, we have to put our kids on the roof in the pouring rain. We don't have the money to buy land and move out, so we remain here."<br /><br />There's often water in their homes, but none to drink. "Our wells are in the sea. We get drinking water from the tap once every week or 15 days. Otherwise, we have to buy water. Tempos come here and deliver. It's Rs 30 for a barrel that lasts one day," says Damentiben.<br /><br />Danti is on the coast of south Gujarat, one of the most industrialized areas in the country. It's called the 'Golden Corridor', but has some of the country's worst polluted spots like Ankleshwar and Vapi. Close to Danti is Dandi, the site of Gandhi's historic Salt March. This coast is now colonized by chaotic and toxic industrialization.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiAtqrft2fRCN1yVPqBEdwA2LsAxgiS15DONlRkT2XA4EA79DDEUvH0PomL-0gj0Y8wLyUnTl8i_LCZYyVeVl9kyUCik-y6WIeedFuQ5lDYYG5kDUGvec6GX-kP0uWIErwb99wvA/s1600-h/IMG_0002.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiAtqrft2fRCN1yVPqBEdwA2LsAxgiS15DONlRkT2XA4EA79DDEUvH0PomL-0gj0Y8wLyUnTl8i_LCZYyVeVl9kyUCik-y6WIeedFuQ5lDYYG5kDUGvec6GX-kP0uWIErwb99wvA/s400/IMG_0002.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093641977183504530" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> A house ravaged by the sea at Kaladra in Bharuch district.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />"The fish have gone further out in the sea because of pollution. And, the water has come further in, so we have suffered. We can't go very far in our tiny boats. We used to get 400 to 600 fish in one night . Now we barely get a hundred," says Shantibhai Tandel, a small fisherman. He has shifted back six times and is now in his seventh house. "I want my kids to study. The only thing is we can't afford donations for their education or bribes to get them a job. If they are lucky, they will find a job, otherwise they will have to stay here, continue fishing and face the hardships." Sandwiched between the sea and salt pans, there's not much further back they can retreat.<br /><br />Many from the village have moved to other towns or to Dandi 12 km away in the last 7-8 years. But like Mahesh Hari Tandel, those who moved for safety still yearn for the sea. "My boat is still in Danti and I feel I have to go there everyday," he says. "When my father was alive, we shifted our house four times. After he died, our house broke twice and then we moved here. After we lost the mangroves in the last 15 to 20 years, many people had to migrate to big port towns like Mumbai, Porbandar or Veraval to work. Earlier, we could survive by fishing closeby and in the mangroves." <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVfgRLyAlnXtseTMz4acKmdGtMTohMeli6UEWXGT4NeFaQraL6m-cJDSjzUlBa5iz-RDBVpCLoj1CD3L7cIA3fOQ9mK_OtJAIy6jHMSYbi2hUEnhsBVxs3Uc2Xzz7zoK0ckOTABw/s1600-h/P1010016.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVfgRLyAlnXtseTMz4acKmdGtMTohMeli6UEWXGT4NeFaQraL6m-cJDSjzUlBa5iz-RDBVpCLoj1CD3L7cIA3fOQ9mK_OtJAIy6jHMSYbi2hUEnhsBVxs3Uc2Xzz7zoK0ckOTABw/s400/P1010016.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093644687307868322" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> Jayantibhai Rathod repairs his fishing net at New Kaladra, where he resettled after the fishing colony at Kaladra was submerged 15 years ago.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />No one knows for sure why the sea is eroding the coast at such an alarmingly voracious pace. One of the reasons could be a rise in sea level due to global warming. Without even knowing what 'global warming' means, villagers along this coast are 'environmental refugees'. Though they are barely surviving, they are facing the brunt of reckless consumption in more affluent places. Ironically, most of these villages haven't been provided electric meters. People illegally tap electricity from the power cables that run above their homes. They don't know what global warming means. Many of them could not explain why the sea was advancing. Some fishermen guessed that it might be "because there are more storms in the sea." <br /><br />Geologists from the M.S. University, Vadodara are studying the Gujarat coastline part of an all-India study by the Space Application Centre, ISRO. "Our preliminary observations reveal that the seawater has shifted in by 10-15 meters in 10 years, and at places it has moved around 80 meters horizontally," says Dr Nikhil Desai, who is heading the survey of the Gujarat coast. They are comparing recent satellite images with older Survey of India maps prepared in the '60s, and have observed that the coastline of Gujarat is changing shape.<br /><br />Several places along India's 7,500 km long coastline are experiencing similar erosion. In the Sunderbans, two islands have already vanished from the map displacing 7,000 people. Twelve more islands are likely to go under due to an annual 3.14 mm sea level rise, which will make 70,000 people refugees. Five villages in Orissa's Bhitarkanika National Park, famous for mass nesting of Olive Ridley turtles, have also submerged, and 18 others are likely to go under. India is one of 27 countries identified by the UN as most vulnerable to the impacts of global warming related sea level rise. <br /><br />"Observations suggest that the sea level has risen at a rate of 2.5 mm per year along the Indian coastline since the 1950s. A mean sea level rise of between 15 and 38 cm is projected by the middle of the century along India's coast. Added to this, a 15% projected increase in intensity of tropical cyclones would significantly enhance the vulnerability of populations in cyclone prone coastal regions," according to Dr. Murari Lal, a renowned climatologist engaged in research related to climate change vulnerability analysis in India. Dr Lal has been one of the lead authors of the UN's Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) reports for over 15 years, which collates research about climate change from scientific work across the world. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK32MhyphenhyphenS11CGn8MMjnR3xnyAdPk_FeRBEC2p0sgCl2NvLuypnrJVd9z-nUiF9Qh5Bw40oMGQgKZFnQWxkZvPQZ4shVKCkNI9xkujMR7V7YZdUJurPHBZ2BPK00ewuM0mmKpjqhrg/s1600-h/P1010047.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK32MhyphenhyphenS11CGn8MMjnR3xnyAdPk_FeRBEC2p0sgCl2NvLuypnrJVd9z-nUiF9Qh5Bw40oMGQgKZFnQWxkZvPQZ4shVKCkNI9xkujMR7V7YZdUJurPHBZ2BPK00ewuM0mmKpjqhrg/s400/P1010047.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093649085354379458" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> Children help in raising the level of Govindbhai Tandel's house in Danti as the family braces itself for the onslaught of the monsoon.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />"No local studies have been done in India to measure the precise impact of global warming. But, in the last decade, several factors have contributed to the loss of coastal land due to sea level rise," says Dr Murari Lal. "Arctic ice has melted three times faster than predicted by the IPCC in 2001. Sea level has risen twice more than projected by the climate models. Stronger surface winds and storms have resulted in higher waves, which reach further inland. Human interventions like the removal of mangroves, reclamation and construction along the coast have also led to faster erosion of the coast." <br /><br />"Sea rise due to global warming could be just one of the reasons for the erosion along the Gujarat coast," says Dr Desai. "Local factors could also be responsible. Neo-tectonic activities - shifts in the level of the sea bed - could also cause the sea level to rise. If there are disturbances in sediment budgeting along the coast, the amount of deposits from rivers, it could also affect the water level." Their study will determine which of these reasons is driving the changes along the coast.<br /><br />Further north, at the estuary of the river Narmada, Kaladra village in Bharuch district is also being nibbled away by the sea. Several houses are half-broken, hanging on the edge of a cliff of sand that can cave in at any point. A sea wall built twenty years back is now a relic of the past. A road constructed two years back (at a cost of Rs 30 lakh) has been cut like a cake by the lashing waves. "The poorest are the most directly affected by this. Most families here are in a dilemma. They can't afford to shift but they cannot stay here either," said Dr Desai.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmsJUW2iroxwkOnjzfvsDQ4X3FrMz24KJQEs-rCwidH3Z9Wc2jgkCJ4MO_54T_mTmBOZFoF14ZnSYuw1-rNhuDeNsb3rXjyINx9aWvRElLm2w0w7F_DUSVH6DnSgAyqrw9UYtCwg/s1600-h/IMG_0049.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmsJUW2iroxwkOnjzfvsDQ4X3FrMz24KJQEs-rCwidH3Z9Wc2jgkCJ4MO_54T_mTmBOZFoF14ZnSYuw1-rNhuDeNsb3rXjyINx9aWvRElLm2w0w7F_DUSVH6DnSgAyqrw9UYtCwg/s400/IMG_0049.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093638773137901682" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> A road built two years ago near Kaladra village has been eroded. A sea wall (in the foreground) offered little protection.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Kaladra too has been half-abandoned. The Rathod fishing colony here was washed away around 20 years back. They resettled in 'New Kaladra', just a little higher up the estuary. The fisherfolk have been here for long, but their houses are still temporary. Here too, there's no escape from the advancing water. "For around six days every monsoon, the water is waist deep. Then, we bring our boats to the doorstep, and fill all our stuff in it," says Jayantibhai Rathod, a fisherman.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjgdIowxrRq6cafGAtOxxZAlT4cu62EVcS_X7a9_lbqGUnkHn7VPozqialfLtLz9fc_RpYwZME4B3ItzP1GptUWftyVHfG9iukgcTTN0ubIUtZFnfJu3MEjD8ldHeZ0nI9ObM56A/s1600-h/IMG_0051.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjgdIowxrRq6cafGAtOxxZAlT4cu62EVcS_X7a9_lbqGUnkHn7VPozqialfLtLz9fc_RpYwZME4B3ItzP1GptUWftyVHfG9iukgcTTN0ubIUtZFnfJu3MEjD8ldHeZ0nI9ObM56A/s400/IMG_0051.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093649995887446226" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> An eroded road in Kaladra.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />When fishermen are forced to run away from sea, when they don't want their sons to continue their trade, its time to start worrying. "This is a land of sand so you can never tell when it will shift," says Shantibhai Tandel from Danti. "We will keep moving back as far as we can. Then, it's in the hands of destiny." It's total surrender to the forces of nature. But how much of nature's fury has been due to the recklessness of other men? The people of Danti and Kaladra are too busy surviving the onslaught of the sea to dwell on the actions of others. It's the last thing on their mind as they sit on their rooftops in the pouring rain.<br /><br />WEBLINKS:<br /><br />- Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change: <a href="http://www.ipcc.ch/">http://www.ipcc.ch/</a><br /><br />- Reducing risks to cities from disasters and climate change by Saleemul Huq, Sari Kovats, Hannah Reid and David Satterthwaite, Environment & Urbanisation, Vol 19 No 1, April 2007.<a href="http://www.iied.org/human/eandu/documents/EU19_editorial.pdf">http://www.iied.org/human/eandu/documents/EU19_editorial.pdf</a><br /><br />- India’s National Communication to the UNFCC<br /><a href="http://www.natcomindia.org">http://www.natcomindia.org</a><br /><br /><i>Frontline,</i> Jul. 14-27, 2007 <a href="http://www.frontline.in/fl2414/stories/20070727000206600.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf3vK2rvRGkMfnYnrRx4vrWdKedjx8bXGEuu-mD-9GCsMLwQrjjwxWSBK3CGXnO93qtqo9SGSjQeilNizF3BS3J9BqIWAZeLkNX0Q-lF9-pm-f7giFDstaitHQB3pVndTkeEUQMA/s1600-h/P1010099.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf3vK2rvRGkMfnYnrRx4vrWdKedjx8bXGEuu-mD-9GCsMLwQrjjwxWSBK3CGXnO93qtqo9SGSjQeilNizF3BS3J9BqIWAZeLkNX0Q-lF9-pm-f7giFDstaitHQB3pVndTkeEUQMA/s400/P1010099.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093651224248092898" /></a>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-995424563983126882007-06-30T18:32:00.000+05:302007-06-30T18:53:15.627+05:30The Holes in our ChappalsDIONNE BUNSHA<br />Amreli, Gujarat<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />Farmers are killing themselves in Gujarat too. But Chief Minister Narendra Modi would like us to believe that they are driving around in cars.</span><br /><br />“Gujarat’s farmers aren’t like those in other states. Our farmers drive Maruti cars,” chief minister Narendra Modi declares in his speeches at public meetings. If he met the widows of farmers in Gujarat who have committed suicide, he would probably choke on his words. <br /><br />Prabhaben Pungalpara was at her sister’s house when her husband Ramesh hung himself from a noose and ended his misery. He probably sent her there to soften the blow. Ramesh’s relatives rushed him to Rajkot hospital but it was too late. Now, Prabhaben’s nightmare was about to begin. “I have two girls and a boy. We will have to manage somehow. I sold off our two buffaloes after he died. My son has gone to Surat to work in a diamond polishing workshop. Ramesh’s brothers have taken care of us,” says Prabhaben from Sarapdar village.<br /><br />Ramesh and his four brothers have a 20–acre farm. “Our cotton and jeera crop failed for two years, so he was very tense,” said his brother Amarsibhai. But the police report says that he killed himself because of a family dispute. “The first police report said that he died because his crop failed, but later the police changed the story,” says Prabhaben. “They told me ‘you have such a big house, there must be some other reason for the suicide. If we give compensation in one case, people will start killing themselves and we will have to give them all’. The police just want to suppress the case.”<br /><br />“If the government can help Maharashtra’s widows, then why can’t they help women in Gujarat?” asks Prabhaben. Maybe because it would shatter the chief minister’s delusions? Across Gujarat farmers’ suicides are either unreported or wrongly reported. Ironically, the people raising a voice against this is the Bharatiya Kisan Sangh (BKS), the farmer’s wing of the ruling BJP. <br /><br /> “The state is hiding the truth about the rising number of farmers’ suicides,” Praful Sanjelia, Gujarat president of the BKS said at a press conference recently. “While the government has declared there were 148 farmers suicides last year, we estimate that there are around 300,” he said. Sanjelia said the police are deliberately concealing the suicides. “The police are not registering an FIR, so many cases go unreported. If they do file a case, they attribute the reasons for the suicide to social tension and domestic disputes. Actually, it is a farmer’s financial crisis that could cause other problems like fights in the family.”<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEpON5cLs_1PnQMO6haITOl5iKl8OSawOfAOl6wmTSd22-NfzINMc6upRp1m_lfBUJP_z8Hfn6i98_ROJZ4CaFAmSROiUh4LNl1ZkMnkapXYO9pECrZz4GCl9Z7EfstzgtEbQIHw/s1600-h/Guj+farmers+suicides+3+IMG_0100.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEpON5cLs_1PnQMO6haITOl5iKl8OSawOfAOl6wmTSd22-NfzINMc6upRp1m_lfBUJP_z8Hfn6i98_ROJZ4CaFAmSROiUh4LNl1ZkMnkapXYO9pECrZz4GCl9Z7EfstzgtEbQIHw/s400/Guj+farmers+suicides+3+IMG_0100.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081844743635710882" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> Pahubhai Dakhada, 35, preferred death to a life of debt. His suicide didn't make it to the government's records</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />“There are several police reports that say the person was ill and by mistake swallowed pesticide instead of medicine. That’s the ridiculous things they do to disguise the true number of farmers suicides,” says Vinubhai Dudheet, a BKS leader in Amreli. “We are very angry with the BJP government and have launched several campaigns against their policies. They have done nothing for farmers. Instead, now they want to give off our land to industrialists for Special Economic Zones (SEZs).”<br /><br />But why is the BKS going against their own government? They first rebelled against the Modi’s BJP government when their founder and RSS pracharak, Laljibhai Patel, camped on the banks of the Sabarmati in Ahmedabad on a hunger strike when the state doubled power tariffs. Since then, the BKS has been on the wrong side of the chief minister. “Most BKS activists used to benefit from being aligned to the ruling party. They had clout with the local administration and used to get contracts etc. Now, it’s not so easy after they have fallen out of favour. So they too have an axe to grind with Modi,” said a local journalist, explaining the split in the Sangh Parivar’s ranks. <br /><br />The BKS cadre are from the core constituency of the Sangh, basically traders and big landlords. Most of them have businesses ranging from sand mining to stone crushing to hotels. But raising the issues of farmers is crucial to keeping their local political support and clout. That’s why they are doing their best to bring farmers’ concerns into focus and embarrass the government. Whatever the political motives of the BKS, there is no doubt that small farmers in Gujarat are in distress.<br /><br />Besides the police, families too have not reported suicides of their loved ones. Many widows are scared of dealing with police. “Though his suicide was reported in the newspaper, I didn’t report it to the police. I didn’t want to be harassed. They demand money and I didn’t have any,” said Vajuben Dhakhada (30) from Vadli village, whose husband Pahubhai (35) died on 12 July 2006. “In the past two years, our crop was destroyed. We had a debt of Rs 50,000. He kept worrying about how we would look after three small kids with no money and no crop in the field.” <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsWpXbSppKxVJYIjw4H9No_Dmbm3_xKshrFADmZiaYF_CoaeFBoQ63DbIyRLJIA-iAU4HhHxujJEjopw4QXrJ7dUrBTNaavc_q0W-Ei3OFM18unyOnT8__aDoMfWP0Oe60LIM3wQ/s1600-h/Guj+farmers+suicides+2+IMG_0104.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsWpXbSppKxVJYIjw4H9No_Dmbm3_xKshrFADmZiaYF_CoaeFBoQ63DbIyRLJIA-iAU4HhHxujJEjopw4QXrJ7dUrBTNaavc_q0W-Ei3OFM18unyOnT8__aDoMfWP0Oe60LIM3wQ/s400/Guj+farmers+suicides+2+IMG_0104.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081845692823483314" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> Pahubhai Dakhada's wife Vajuben has to run the family from the confines of her house because widows in her community should not be seen in public</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Now, Vajuben depends totally on her relatives for help. By killing herself, her husband confined her to a life of isolation from society. She is a darbar (Rajput) and as a widow, is not allowed to leave the confines of her home, not even to fill water from the well. Her three young children help her with errands outside their home.<br /><br />In the same village (Vadli), Prassanben, the wife of Anakbhai Dhakada (32) who killed himself on 7 April 2007, has a similar story to tell. She too is in purdah and cannot leave the house. But luckily, she lives in a joint family. And like Vajuben, she was too afraid to have anything to do with the police.<br /><br />When contacted by Frontline, agriculture minister Bhupendra Singh Chudasama said, “Not a single farmer in Gujarat has committed suicide.” This contradicts his government’s statistic of 148. “The reason for those suicides are family problems. People have many marriages in their families. It is not the government’s responsibility,” he said. <br /><br />Often, farmers who are heavily in debt worry about how the expenses of getting their children married. Most of them are in a crippling financial crisis because agriculture is no longer profitable. Production costs are increasing, while the prices at which farmers have to sell their harvest are not as lucrative. Their loans and interest burden increase every year, until they finally drown in debt.<br /><br />The elders of the Kakane family decided to drown themselves in the sea. Vallabh (80), his son Mansukh (40) and their respective wives went to the beach near Somnath and drowned themselves on 3 November 2006. Now their house in Pania Dev village is locked and abandoned. Mansukh’s three sons went off to Surat in search of work. “This tragedy happened because they had run up a huge debt with the moneylender,” said their nephew Nilesh. They borrowed Rs 1.5 lakh at an interest rate of 60% to pay off their power bills. The moneylender was demanding Rs 12 lakh including interest. They offered him their land but he was not willing to take it.”<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX0ski-Wra7Hfza_OxJ0sW5-mXhVwSV7LZTQUWKr-OS9okB5ScJoYblYDYEfJAt777XU2S24S2so_7yxWE4IKvQHOEfMKTMc0MTshJDPamV951dGiXWOfni5tA50vbFvsW_KaaTQ/s1600-h/Guj+farmers+suicides+1+IMG_0123.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX0ski-Wra7Hfza_OxJ0sW5-mXhVwSV7LZTQUWKr-OS9okB5ScJoYblYDYEfJAt777XU2S24S2so_7yxWE4IKvQHOEfMKTMc0MTshJDPamV951dGiXWOfni5tA50vbFvsW_KaaTQ/s400/Guj+farmers+suicides+1+IMG_0123.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081846358543414210" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>Grieving relatives of the Kakane family, whose four elder members committed suicide by drowning in the sea off Somnath as a way out of the clutches of the moneylender</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />“They were under so much pressure that they couldn’t even eat properly. They would sit here in my parents’ house and ask them what to do,” said Nilesh. “Almost half the village is in the grip of the moneylender. They give a loan and then they take everything. Farming is not profitable anymore. The price we get for cotton is not as much as the rise in input costs or the price of living, so we are forced to borrow.” <br /><br />The most industrialised state, ‘Vibrant Gujarat’, seems more feudal than modern. “The moneylender inflicts terror in the village,” said Nilesh. “They have taken away a Harijan’s home after he borrowed Rs 5,000. But no one will dare to speak. They will even pretend this mass suicide in my family never happened. The moneylenders are thugs and they have the police on their side.”<br /><br />“Not a single small farmer is doing well. We are all starving. If farmers start doing accounts, we will all leave the farms,” said Kanubhai Ganniya, a farmer with five acres in Malak Nes village. “Many people are leaving the village or getting into other businesses. The cost of inputs like seeds, pesticides etc are rising every year. But the price of cotton does not increase as much.” Farmers estimate that they spend between Rs 7000 to 16000 per acre, but get around Rs 13,000-16,000 for their one-acre harvest.<br /><br />Until now, Gujarat was considered the rare cotton-growing state that was immune to farmers suicides. Now inflation and the unsustainable commercial mode of cultivation has affected them too. “Earlier, farmers only had to pay for seeds. Now they pay for everything – tractor, power, water, labour. Farming has become more cost-intensive and less viable,” said Dr Sudarshan Iyengar, Vice Chancellor, Gujarat Vidyapeeth.<br /><br />Compared to states, Gujarat has a high yield (three times that of Maharashtra, where suicide rates are highest). It also has 44% of cotton farms under irrigation, compared to 4% in Maharashtra, or 18% in Andhra Pradesh, where suicides are the highest. This improves yields and reduces risks. Here, like in Andhra Pradesh and Maharashtra, almost all cotton farmers use genetically-modified Bt seeds. These seeds are inserted with a bacteria that kills the bollworm, a common pest on cotton plants. You can’t find a non-Bt seed variety in any farm input shop here. However, many farmers use illegal home-bred versions of Bt seeds like Navbharat, which are cheaper than the Monsanto-MAHYCO Bollgard brand. While the environmental dangers of this illegal trade of seeds have not been studied, this home industry has reduced seed costs for Gujarat’s farmers in the short term. <br /><br />Yet, other costs like those of either buying water from borewells or paying for power etc have gone up, and prices haven’t kept pace. “One pair of jeans that weighs around 500 grams sells for Rs 1500-1700 in the designer stores, but we get only Rs 13 for 500 grams of cotton. Those who are processing get all the profit, not those who produce,” said Vinubhai.<br /><br />When I visited Malak Nes village, a group of farmers were eager to show me their chappals. They threw their chappals on the floor and told me, “Our chappals have gaping holes and are broken. Can you please send them to Narendra Modi? And ask him which farmer in Gujarat has a Maruti? We can’t even afford a new pair of chappals.”<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhViXr4683QF_MGoYo4efEUkappOxpD39jSiGOkmKisSRdaFfzJQcLW_VF5bYHtiIV-Gl_CKHhAepZfrwk3ngkzZn9Dxp6wY67ev-JTBw2G0Zlpd97OXhRM1svnz2Ic6hyphenhyphen3Ak1s0A/s1600-h/Guj+farmers+suicides+4+IMG_0085.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhViXr4683QF_MGoYo4efEUkappOxpD39jSiGOkmKisSRdaFfzJQcLW_VF5bYHtiIV-Gl_CKHhAepZfrwk3ngkzZn9Dxp6wY67ev-JTBw2G0Zlpd97OXhRM1svnz2Ic6hyphenhyphen3Ak1s0A/s400/Guj+farmers+suicides+4+IMG_0085.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081847045738181586" /></a><br /><br /><i>Frontline,</i> June 2-15, 2007 <a href="http://www.hinduonnet.com/fline/fl2411/stories/20070615001604100.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-31204471795907389562007-06-30T17:36:00.000+05:302007-06-30T18:27:53.575+05:30Cotton aflameBy DIONNE BUNSHA<br />in Yavatmal<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />The cotton harvest is ready. But the state hasn't yet opened most procurement centres. At the few that are functioning, farmers have been queueing up for days. The frustration has led to violence in Wani.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRjnQ2_HoyfN2Q085fflPCQMPP4lIg1bU4KSK59HKKNNJrzjm-WRiV4OLtSQVA32V9DvKqzNc0x4I0FvXMQg6lgcRhMiauwP5FpwUuEnnyrvVw5Cuwa2BplAPsubz_YxEhQYy05g/s1600-h/firing+on+farmers+1+DSC_1303.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRjnQ2_HoyfN2Q085fflPCQMPP4lIg1bU4KSK59HKKNNJrzjm-WRiV4OLtSQVA32V9DvKqzNc0x4I0FvXMQg6lgcRhMiauwP5FpwUuEnnyrvVw5Cuwa2BplAPsubz_YxEhQYy05g/s400/firing+on+farmers+1+DSC_1303.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081840294049592210" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> Finally cotton gets weighed at the Shindola procurement centre after farmers waited in queues for several days.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br /><br />A fire was still smoldering under the burned papers and broken furniture in a room at Wani’s agricultural market office. The flame was alive, even three days after the fire was put out and police opened fire to disperse angry farmers who ransacked the office. <br /><br />Here in Vidarbha, Maharashtra’s cotton belt, the flames were fanned much before 8th December 2006, when the police fired on farmers in Wani. The state government started cotton procurement this month, delaying it by two months after the crop was harvested. In several places, procurement centres are yet to open. With their harvest ready for sale, farmers were restless. The queues piled up at the few places that have opened. One of them was Wani. <br /><br />“There were around 1,500 farmers were waiting in the cold with their bullock carts for four days. The state government’s cotton federation wasn’t buying all the cotton. Graders would clear one cart and by-pass the next four. Finally, farmers got angry with a Cotton Confederation of India (CCI) grader, Shukla, who refused to buy the cotton saying it was moist. They started fighting with him. He ran into our office and locked himself in. The farmers chased him, set fire and destroyed the office,” says Dr Moreshwar Pande, chairman of the Wani agricultural market committee. “Obviously, the farmers were livid. They were just asking for their rights.” Dr Pande’s organization has suffered the most, yet he is sympathetic to those who ransacked his office. <br /><br />“It was the fault of the CCI and the state cotton federation, but we had to bear the losses,” says Dr Pande, sitting amongst the ruins in the market yard. “In fact, were on the phone with a government official telling him that the procurement situation was bad and that they should enhance facilities when Shukla came running into the office.” The police was called in. Students from a nearby college joined the brawl. It became even more difficult to control. They fired twice to disperse the crowd. The riot spread to the town centre. Curfew was imposed for three days. <br /><br />Shukla really shook the town…and the state. It’s the first time that police have fired on farmers here, at a time when the agricultural crisis has reached tipping point. There have been 1,200 suicides reported since June 2005. Around 75 per cent of families (12.75 lakh households) in Vidarbha’s six districts are in distress, says a state survey. With around three to five suicides occurring everyday, bullets will not resolve the unrest.<br /><br />“What happened in Wani can happen again anywhere if the state doesn’t give us a fair price for our cotton, doesn’t grade it correctly and keeps making us wait for days on end,” said U.N. Sur, a farmer who had been waiting for three days at the Shindola procurement centre in Yavatmal with his three bullock carts. After the Wani tension, there has been a temporary reprieve. “They have stopped private traders from operating here, since there is not enough storage space for state purchasing. Within a day, see how fast they are clearing all the bullock carts. Earlier, they were just harassing us.”<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFnCnB8iO5iBMo1A57kBoOjwsFwuffFKOpbHH9tStF-DfKdHwP-bmXc_D-3CighKmGSdWRlFdZLhkFEkmn8rf3sr2O7vJrEE5BoSeroLCodZDbtOgor0vsvbJijcPvOTj93aiJoA/s1600-h/firing+on+farmers+3+DSC_1305.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFnCnB8iO5iBMo1A57kBoOjwsFwuffFKOpbHH9tStF-DfKdHwP-bmXc_D-3CighKmGSdWRlFdZLhkFEkmn8rf3sr2O7vJrEE5BoSeroLCodZDbtOgor0vsvbJijcPvOTj93aiJoA/s400/firing+on+farmers+3+DSC_1305.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081839422171231106" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>Unloading the cotton harvest after waiting for several days at the procurement centre</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />“In this very yard, the private traders began buying cotton in October, but the government only started now,” said Namdev Nimkar, who had been waiting in the Shindola yard for six days. “If they had started sooner, there would not have been such a crowd. But the state doesn’t want to buy cotton. They want to keep us in the clutches of traders.” Currently, the state is procuring cotton at rates ranging from Rs 1,700 to 1,990 per quintal. Traders are buying at around Rs 1,800 to 1,850. When you agree to sell and unload the cart, they lower the price to Rs 1,750, and over that you have to pay them a commission. That’s why we prefer to sell to the government,” said Sur.<br /><br />Private traders have already bought 44.74 lakh quintals, while the state cotton federation has only procured six lakh quintals. “This is the game the traders are playing. They buy up all the good quality cotton and then leave it to the state to buy the lower quality and suffer the losses,” said Sudhir Goyal, divisional commissioner of Amravati. <br /><br />“The traders and corporate sector are to blame. They create a psychology of surplus and exhaust farmers till they accept a lower price. Why don’t the textile mills buy directly from farmers? The textile mill lobby is highly organized and makes sure they get cotton dirt cheap.” A metre of ordinary cheap cotton costs Rs 50, but the farmer gets only Rs 5 of this, he pointed out. “The clothes that we wear are stained by the blood of farmers,” Goyal said. <br /><br />“In Wani, farmers anger was not directed at us, but at the CCI and private traders. We are unnecessarily being blamed,” said Dr N.P. Hirani, chairman of the Maharashtra State Cotton Federation. “The farmers got angry because CCI does only selective purchasing. On that day in Wani, they purchased only 50 carts while 500 were waiting. It’s not our fault that procurement is low. Farmers prefer to sell to traders and CCI because they get immediate payment while we pay after 15 days. Also, we deduct half their bank loan repayment, while they don’t.” Dr Hirani said that the state could not procure more because of power cuts. “Ginning factories can only work one of three shifts. They are processing the purchases at a quarter of their capacity. There is no place to store the cotton. That’s why we cannot purchase more,” he said. <br /><br />Maharashtra’s Monopoly Cotton Procurement Scheme was introduced in 1972 to assure a fair and stable price to cotton farmers and protect them from traders who rigged the market. The state government set up a network of procurement centres to buy cotton directly from farmers and eliminate middlemen. The scheme started making losses after 1995, when the price of cotton collapsed in the world market. The government was buying at a price higher than the market rate. Since then, every government has tried to dismantle the scheme, denying farmers the only protection they had. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl1U0P5wR7yoaLelScwxOC38IavgKcW-gy_cQehe7vpFNcBR4m9st8ouXWmBHpqe0IfqW9Qy_sUqrNE7ZF8z-72lAui4AQSheK3v17YA0gaHfMh5ODKOiIfJDYqSy3KYJhLAl9ag/s1600-h/Firing+on+farmers+2+DSC_1313.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl1U0P5wR7yoaLelScwxOC38IavgKcW-gy_cQehe7vpFNcBR4m9st8ouXWmBHpqe0IfqW9Qy_sUqrNE7ZF8z-72lAui4AQSheK3v17YA0gaHfMh5ODKOiIfJDYqSy3KYJhLAl9ag/s400/Firing+on+farmers+2+DSC_1313.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081834590333023042" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>At one of the few procurement centres that are functioning</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Procurement prices have been lowered to cut losses. “In 2001, the state government offered upto Rs 2,700 per quintal. Now, it’s less than Rs 2,000. How are farmers supposed to survive when the prices of everything else are rising?” asks Vijay Jawandhia, Shetkari Sanghatana leader. <br /><br />The Congress-NCP alliance promised a cotton price of Rs 2,700 per quintal before the election. But when it came to power, it lowered the price from Rs 2,250 to Rs 1,750. “What is Sharad Pawar doing as agricultural minister? He is only safeguarding his constituency and the sugar lobby,” said Ganesh Nagure from Mendoli village in Yavatmal. <br /><br />When the Prime minister toured Vidarbha in July this year, he announced a Rs 3,750-crore ‘package’ for Vidarbh’s 30 lakh farmers in distress, including an interest waiver and an order to banks to issue loans. But the PM glossed over the crux of the farm crisis – price. While the cost of production has risen, prices have fallen. Farmers are finding it difficult to make ends meet and driven deeper into debt. Issuing fresh loans just saved them from the moneylenders this time round. But what happens at the end of the season when the farmer can’t pay back the loan once again? The pressure to pay up drives several farmers to kill themselves, leaving their wives and children to take on the burden.<br /><br />Dinesh Gogul’s family has been left without a breadwinner for a different reason. He left the village to sell his cotton and returned a dead man, mowed down by police bullets in Wani. His family is still reeling from the shock. “My son is only 12 years, and my in-laws are old. How are we going to survive?” asks Savita, his wife, only 32 and widowed. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ5MGGOE_I3SzEB40PA0AYO9yK5KPDaBGxOR7FIB3AxIz_5jOsV7UUoFyJJ5XZnUoajsE9P5MXB8DfE-YcH0f4xB6qOY-5kYD7RM0GdQQrkKKs8XMwSKNaRwXDMdlVvinOGFU6PQ/s1600-h/firing+on+farmers+4+DSC_1245.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ5MGGOE_I3SzEB40PA0AYO9yK5KPDaBGxOR7FIB3AxIz_5jOsV7UUoFyJJ5XZnUoajsE9P5MXB8DfE-YcH0f4xB6qOY-5kYD7RM0GdQQrkKKs8XMwSKNaRwXDMdlVvinOGFU6PQ/s400/firing+on+farmers+4+DSC_1245.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081833606785512242" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> The family of Dinesh Gogul, the farmer who was killed in the police firing at Wani</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />When trouble broke out in Wani, Maharashtra’s Home minister R.R. Patil was only three hours away attending the state assembly session in Nagpur. But he didn’t bother to visit the site. Instead, he hosted a dinner party for journalists at his bungalow that night, while the flames in Wani were still being doused. Two days later, he arrived at Savita’s doorstep with a cheque of Rs three lakh.<br /><br />Dinesh’s son inherits a grim legacy of loss. His generation is likely to witness growing restlessness as deprivation deepens. Wani may be just the beginning. The fire is still quietly smoldering..DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-71488678102926738742007-06-30T17:07:00.000+05:302007-06-30T17:36:07.983+05:30Vines of debtDIONNE BUNSHA<br />in Nashik, Maharashtra<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Onion or grape, farmers of Nashik in north Maharashtra have very little to choose to escape debt, and now death.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPbeukzUhfoCf5UzzBVjwTK-ay4LGS-b-6j-FAhaP1cGeOE767yVsTURLGoVfFqo50JVNKIVVZFBfiRunMXI4wxfd0AzfyZtBhg8TjffgRnfvGd9iOsl_qzEXfXox2afQo0TU9Q/s1600-h/Mah+farm+crisis-+nashik+2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPbeukzUhfoCf5UzzBVjwTK-ay4LGS-b-6j-FAhaP1cGeOE767yVsTURLGoVfFqo50JVNKIVVZFBfiRunMXI4wxfd0AzfyZtBhg8TjffgRnfvGd9iOsl_qzEXfXox2afQo0TU9Q/s400/Mah+farm+crisis-+nashik+2.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081824016123540178" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> Pandurang Kadam's daughter-in-law Sunita with her children. Burdened by debt, Pandurang set himself on fire in the Lasalgaon market yard.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />While writing out the receipt for Pandurang Kadam’s onion crop, the trader didn’t realise that it would be forensic evidence. <br /><br />The next day, 20 April 2006, Pandurang returned to the Lasalgaon market and set himself on fire. The town watched shocked as Pandurang burned in the yard where a thousand farmers’ hopes are extinguished everyday. In his pocket, they recovered the receipt. Behind it, Pandurang had written his last words.<br /><br />“The co-operative society bank’s Rs 23,500 still remains. Electricity bill Rs 4,000-5,000. Ashok Rs 3,000, Champalal Rs 1,000. All the onions went for Rs 151 (per quintal). I could not pay back the loans. My prayer to the state and centre is that farmers must get a price of Rs 300-400. With this prayer, I end my life’s journey.”<br /><br />It was the harvest season, and Pandurang (60) went to the market hoping this year would be different. But it wasn’t. He wasn’t able to make up the last two years’ losses on his one-acre farm. “The market price was too low for him to recover any of the costs,” says Sunita Kadam, his daughter-in-law in Somthan Desh village. “He had sold one bullock, the cart and even the tractor. But even that wasn’t enough.” <br /><br />Driving through the lush green fields of Nashik, no one would imagine that farmers here are in the red. The hilly landscape is lined with leafy grape vines reaching up to touch the sky. Lasalgaon is one of the largest markets for onions in Asia. Nashik district is one of the more developed districts in Maharashtra -- called India’s California. But here, dreams have soured as prices have crashed. For the first time, 17 farmers suicides have been reported here. Higher production has actually led to their ruin. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpNWNFzS9YInEz94yYyuFfxLsA0-Nz_S8irMLv7c5O9EZNnQz5ryp24q5rBrrCjhYwTVwgRUehZcJO0piS46aQNUQfrtwCCmvOR1jjQ3CL9__GchqHs_uBfhUsliA3Ng-8-zPx_A/s1600-h/Mah+farm+crisis-+vidarbh+map.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpNWNFzS9YInEz94yYyuFfxLsA0-Nz_S8irMLv7c5O9EZNnQz5ryp24q5rBrrCjhYwTVwgRUehZcJO0piS46aQNUQfrtwCCmvOR1jjQ3CL9__GchqHs_uBfhUsliA3Ng-8-zPx_A/s400/Mah+farm+crisis-+vidarbh+map.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081824419850466018" /></a><br />There’s poverty amidst plenty. “Production and exports are reaching record highs every year. But prices are falling, since there is a surplus,” says C.B. Holkar, vice chairman of the National Agricultural Co-operative Marketing Federation. “Farmers can’t even recover their costs.” <br /><br />Onion production all over India has risen from 40 lakh tonnes five years back to 60 lakh tonnes last year, says Holkar. Exports have doubled to almost ten lakh tonnes. But the prices this year have been the lowest in the last five years. The price this year is Rs 200-250 per quintal, while the cost of production is around Rs 350-400. “The government must ensure a minimum support price for perishable goods, just as it does for wheat or oilseeds. Otherwise farmers cannot survive,” says Holkar. <br /><br />Since onions were a dead loss, several farmers started grape cultivation. Punjaram Thakre’s onion crop has been in losses for many years. Last year, he spent Rs 1.5 lakh to put up a grape orchard. “In the last two years, we weren’t able to recover our costs on the onion harvests. I spent Rs 20,000 to grow onions, but I got back only Rs 8,000. The rate was only Rs 160 per quintal,” says Thakre. “So then, I decided to also invest in a grape trellis. The initial cost was Rs 1.5 lakh. Every year, you have to spend around Rs 50,000 to 70,000 on pesticides, fertilisers, labour. But I got only Rs 40,000 when I sold the grapes.”<br /><br />Thakre’s bank loans have piled up to Rs 2.5 lakh. “I sold half an acre of land, two bullocks and the cart, my tractor and motorcycle. There’s nothing left to sell, but I haven’t been able to repay the bank for the past two years,” says Thakre. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijuwXGvAva72kNYtCx1MQ9g4KZuV9X8LG3wO10DZC-_83lms-u3gaOoQu4bzv-lC7EiGdFBqjPBuNIBgRojzTf11s0zu_PUHXI_4IMpWJV5w-jabd6ghMZEkAimBLJBTFd1d0ghg/s1600-h/Mah+farm+crisis-+nashik+3.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijuwXGvAva72kNYtCx1MQ9g4KZuV9X8LG3wO10DZC-_83lms-u3gaOoQu4bzv-lC7EiGdFBqjPBuNIBgRojzTf11s0zu_PUHXI_4IMpWJV5w-jabd6ghMZEkAimBLJBTFd1d0ghg/s400/Mah+farm+crisis-+nashik+3.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081824918066672370" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> Punjaram Thakre and his son at their grape orchard. Punjaram's wife committed suicide after the loans they took exceeded Rs.2 lakhs. Their onion crop had incurred losses for several years and forced them to try grape cultivation as well.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />His wife, Shantibai couldn’t deal with the pressure of the paybacks. She jumped into a well on 1st July and ended the ordeal. When we visited Punjaram, they had just completed her 11th day prayer. “For any villager, a ‘lakh’ is a very intimidating figure. My wife had never even spent Rs 500 in her entire life, so we was very worried about how we would pay back more than two lakh.”<br /><br />Though much more expensive to grow, grape prices were lucrative until two years ago. So, several farmers shifted to grape farming. “In two years, the area under grape cultivation in Nashik district has doubled to 100,000 acres today. The costs of cultivation have also doubled. It’s now Rs 80-90,000 per acre for grapes grown for the Indian market. (Those growing for export spend more than Rs 1 lakh per acre). But the prices have halved from Rs 10-20 per kg three years back to Rs 6-10 now,” says Balasaheb Kshirsagar, from the Maharashtra Grape Producers Association. <br /><br />“People switched to grape cultivation because no other crop was proving profitable. But now there is greater production, even the price of grapes has fallen. And costs just keep rising. For instance, the price of one pesticide has doubled from last year. And, farmers have to use more than 12 different types of pesticide, and spray six times,” Kshirsagar explains. It costs Rs 11-12 to grow one kg of grapes, but farmers have to sell for Rs 6-10 per kg.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHDavn2jK6qoOwRSQPslDZWiyzm98UhwgZRjO7CrNK5MAazyPVO9TnqfZTWKmNVGW4MSOGAA1WEHyEHuXxcB_3opIGPctm-orzHlE2r9MDlaEbeIYiEs4Cy39pb64KxhbvO3QmRQ/s1600-h/Mah+farm+crisis-+nashik+4.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHDavn2jK6qoOwRSQPslDZWiyzm98UhwgZRjO7CrNK5MAazyPVO9TnqfZTWKmNVGW4MSOGAA1WEHyEHuXxcB_3opIGPctm-orzHlE2r9MDlaEbeIYiEs4Cy39pb64KxhbvO3QmRQ/s400/Mah+farm+crisis-+nashik+4.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081826812147249938" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>At the market in Niphad, onion farmers, disappointed at the price they get for their crop which is far below the cost of production.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Until now, farmers have been able to muster up the money for such high cultivation costs because this region is more developed than others. Peasants have better access to water and credit. But as they hurl towards bankruptcy, banks are unlikely to give them loans. “Niphad taluka has the highest amount of loans from banks. Around 87% of farmers have taken loans. Credit is not a problem,” says Ramdas Khedekar, Sub-Divisional Officer of Niphad. “There aren’t many moneylenders here. We will never go to them. They charge 10% per month,” says Sakari Dargude, a farmer from Brahman Gaon village.<br /><br />Sakari’s son, Vijay (19) killed himself by swallowing poison in the cattle shed on 2nd April 2006. “He didn’t want me to sell the cattle to repay our loan instalment of Rs 1.35 lakh. But without repaying, we would not get a fresh loan for the monsoon season. I didn’t get a proper price for my onion crop, so I had to sell the cattle to pay back,” says Sakari. “So I went and sold them without telling him. When he reached the shed and found the animals missing, he was so upset, he swigged the pesticide.”<br /><br />“Until they give us a fixed price, we will never progress,” says Sakari. “When vegetable prices in the city go up, they create havoc to make it lower. But the state doesn’t reduce the costs for us. When prices in the city go up, we don’t get higher prices. The middlemen make all the profits. And, no one bothers when prices crash during the harvest season and it’s time for us to sell.” He adds, “What is agricultural minister Sharad Pawar doing for farmers? He wants us all to be out of business and hand over the land to US companies on contract.”<br /><br />“Why is the government willing to import wheat at Rs 1,400 per q, but it won’t pay its own farmers more than Rs 800-900 per q? Why do city people and the media raise such a ruckus if the price of onions or tomatoes goes up?” asks Kshirsagar. <br /><br />“Can’t they spend Rs 50 per month more for their food, so that those producing it don’t starve?” he asks. <br /><br /><i>Frontline,</i> Aug. 26 - Sep. 8, 2006 <a href="http://www.hinduonnet.com/fline/fl2317/stories/20060908003602000.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-76563179993053787822007-06-30T16:53:00.000+05:302007-06-30T17:06:29.674+05:30Harvest of deathDIONNE BUNSHA<br />in Wardha and Yavatmal, Maharashtra<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Everyday in Vidarbh, there are three suicides reported. Farmers are living only because they are not dying.</span><br /><br />Chandrakant Gurnule (35) had always been the prankster in his family. He would sneak up behind people and scare them, always had a wise crack at hand, entertained the kids. But, on 1st April 2006, he wasn’t kidding when he told his wife that he wanted to commit suicide. He had said it before. No one took him seriously.<br /><br />She laughed, “When are you going to do it?” That afternoon, Chandrakant doused himself with kerosene and lit a match. In flames, he ran out of the house where the kids were playing. They screamed for help. His brother Prahlad managed to put out the fire and took him to the hospital. But he died there of severe burn injuries. This was no April fool’s prank.<br /><br />In the last year, Chandrakant’s sense of humour had dimmed as he sank deeper into debt and depression. “Over the years, the farm was making losses. The loans kept increasing. He used to say, ‘There’s no option but to die’. We didn’t take it seriously,” said Prahlad. “We even planned to sell four acres of our 16 acre farm and use the money to start some small business. No one expected him to do this.”<br /><br />Chandrakant had a bank loan of Rs 1.05 lakh. He had pawned jewellery worth Rs 30,000. His family has no idea how much he owed moneylenders. He couldn’t pay back the debts because farming was no longer profitable. “He spent Rs 60-70,000 on the farm. He got back only Rs 40,000 by selling the cotton crop, of which he gave Rs 15,000 to the bank. The jowar crop failed. There was no grain in the house. Everyone in our house was ill with the chicken guinea disease. He had no money to sow the next crop,” said Prahlad. “He had sold his buffalos, his motorcycle, his thresher machines. Finally, he finished himself.”<br /><br />There have been 680 suicides up to August 2006 – more than three per day - in Vidarbh, the north-eastern and most neglected region of Maharashtra. The rich, black soil is ideal for cotton – once called ‘white gold’. For a decade, Vidarbh is experiencing a desperate farm crisis. Since 2001, there have been 2,279 suicides. Cotton is no longer profitable. In 1970, one quintal of cotton had the same value as 12 grams of gold. Now, it is a harvest of death. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3BlHk2uoqpRp0JG6L-UPnvDaJa_YijUR4T38KgeFEAdFFMb1m8cJiXHMYk-POPwqFdKLybBDuN3ArdFckP-CL47AXLCTSgn2WLnP3eGgIRu4tUokkK47P39f2rtm_1abILjYHzQ/s1600-h/Mah+farm+crisis-+vidarbh+map.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3BlHk2uoqpRp0JG6L-UPnvDaJa_YijUR4T38KgeFEAdFFMb1m8cJiXHMYk-POPwqFdKLybBDuN3ArdFckP-CL47AXLCTSgn2WLnP3eGgIRu4tUokkK47P39f2rtm_1abILjYHzQ/s400/Mah+farm+crisis-+vidarbh+map.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081818441255989938" /></a><br />Vidarbh borders the cotton belt of Andhra Pradesh, where peasants’ suicides have also spiralled. The suicides are the most desperate sign of a much larger agrarian crisis. “There’s not much difference between those who killed themselves and those of us who are still living. Everyone is in the same distress,” said Jitendra Tatte, a cotton and orange farmer, with a huge farm of 60 acres in Lehegaon village, Amravati. <br /><br />Killing debt is just the consequence, not the cause of the farm crisis. The crux of Chandrakant’s problem was something beyond his control – high costs, low produce prices. The minimum support price for cotton (Rs 1,750) fetches less than one-fourth the cost of cultivation in Maharashtra. “In the last 10 years, the prices of farm inputs have risen dramatically. Urea was Rs 80 per bag, it’s now Rs 280. A bottle of pesticide was Rs 40, but now it’s Rs 240. But, the state government lowered the procurement price from 2,250 last year to Rs 1,750 per quintal. How can we survive?” asked Prahlad. <br /><br />So, why hasn’t the price kept up with costs? The international price of cotton lint fell from $ 1.10 per pound in 1994 to 38 cents in 1998. There was a gush of imports into India. “Between 1997 and 2003, we imported 110 lakh bales, more than the total volume of imports since Independence,” says Vijay Jawandhia, activist with the Shetkari Sanghatana. So, farmers found no market for their product. <br /><br />India doesn’t protect her farmers from imports. Cotton farmers are the least protected. The import tariff for cotton is only 10%, whereas it is 60% for sugar and 80% for paddy. International rules allow the government to increase the cotton tariff up to 150%, but it chooses not to. China has protected its farmers by imposing a 90% import tariff.<br /><br />Farmers in countries such as the US or China can sell at a low price because they receive direct subsidies. Our farmers cannot afford to sell at this artificially lower price and so keel over. For instance, in the US, it costs $1.70 (Rs 79.90) to produce one kg of cotton lint, but it is sold for $1.18 (Rs 55.46). To offset the losses, around 20,000 cotton farmers in the US get more than $4 billion in subsidies – approx. Rs one crore per farmer per year, according to the Centre for Science and Environment’s (CSE) report on the cotton industry. US farmers get a subsidy of $1 for every kg of cotton produced, roughly the rate of cotton in the world market. Our farmers get no subsidy. Vidarbh’s 30 lakh-odd cotton cultivators spend Rs 3,000 per quintal, but they get only Rs 1,750. <br /><br />If, like US or Chinese farmers, Chandrakant had been given a direct subsidy payment for every quintal of cotton he produced, he would not have had to pawn his jewellery or borrow from moneylenders at interest rates ranging from 60 to 120 per cent. He would have probably been alive today. If the Indian state can’t give a subsidy, at least it can protect farmers through tariffs. But it is not even willing to raise the import tariff. So, the textile industry can import raw cotton cheap, manufacture with cheap labour and export the finished cloth back. “We have become like slave labour for the export market,” says Jawandhia. <br /><br />“On the rare occasion that the retail price of tomatoes or tur dal goes up (like they did just before the monsoon), the media flash it on TV all day, and people in the cities complain. But they are quiet when the prices fall soon after. Do they bother to come here and talk to us then when prices crash and we are in a crisis?” asked Prahlad.<br /><br />If prices are low, can farmers try and reduce costs? Each year, prices of inputs go up. And the chemical-intensive method that farmers use depletes the fertility of the soil. So every year, there are more doses of fertilisers and pesticides needed. It’s a vicious cycle. Maharashtra has the highest area under cotton cultivation in the country, but the lowest yield. The cost of production is Rs 70 per kg - double national average, says the CSE report. The state is supposed to send extension workers to guide farmers on effective farming techniques. But extension officers are rarely seen in the fields. Farmers rely on advice from pesticide dealers, advertisements and each other. <br /><br />Until now the only technical advice has been from agriculture minister Sharad Pawar and film star Nana Patekar peddling Monsanto’s Bt cotton seeds. They are supposed to prevent attacks from boll worms, but not other pests. So, farmers still spray insecticide, and also spend more on Bt seeds. Of the 634 farmers who committed suicide in Vidarbh (from 1st Jan to 10th July 2006), 450 were cotton growers, and 314 of them had sowed Bt cotton last year, according to a survey done by the Vidarbh Janandolan Samiti. <br /><br />Several organic farming techniques have been scientifically proven to be effective. They have yielded the same, or better, output without spending much on pesticides and fertilisers. Organic pesticides, fertilisers and growth promoters can be prepared from plants and materials available locally. Only a few NGOs have bothered to promote organic farming. There’s no money to be made by advocating less spending.<br /><br />If cotton cultivation is unprofitable, why not shift to other crops? Farmers in Vidarbh (and most of India) still practice dryland farming – totally dependent on the monsoon. Besides cotton, farmers here grow mainly soyabean, wheat, coarse grains, tur dal, groundnut and oranges (in some areas). Vidarbh has only 10% under irrigation. “That leaves us with very few options. Besides, prices are low not only for cotton but for most other crops and vegetables. Whatever you choose, there are losses,” said Prahlad Gurnule. <br /><br />There isn’t enough water for fodder, so dairy, which could provide a regular income, is also not possible. “Earlier, when we grew jowar, there was a steady source of fodder. But, people have stopped jowar because it isn’t profitable, and neither is the dairy business. Now, there are distress sales of our only assets – cattle and land,” said Sanjay Tigaonkar, a farmer from Wardha.<br /><br />The Prime Minister arrived for a tour of Vidarbh on 1st July, and left with a pathetic Rs. 3,750-crore ‘package’ for Vidarbh’s 30 lakh farmers – one-fifth the cost of the Mumbai metro that he inaugurated a few weeks earlier. He announced an interest waiver on loans and fresh loans to be issued to defaulting farmers. This may offer temporary relief. But what happens at the end of the season when the farmer is left with no money to pay back the loan once again? And, what happens to farmer’s debts with moneylenders? <br /><br />When the state government suddenly arrested moneylenders in November 2005, farmers were in a financial crunch. Moneylenders are their main source of funds, since banks don’t lend enough. Moreover, it was found that Congress MLA Dilip Sananda and his family are moneylenders with 40 cases registered against them. The government hasn’t taken any action against them, only against the small fry. <br /><br />The PM promised Rs. 2,177 crore to complete 524 irrigation projects in these six districts over three years. Across the country 40 % of the cotton crop is irrigated, but in Vidarbh, only 3 % of the crop has irrigation. Irrigation schemes here have been incomplete for the last 20 years. One visit by the PM is unlikely to be the magic wand.<br /><br />One month after the PM left, there were 80 more suicides. Banks had not yet issued loans though sowing had begun a month before. Chief minister Vilasrao Deshmukh admitted that the state has not been able to curb the crisis. “We are doing our best, both the Centre and the State is doing what it can. It's true the suicides are not reducing. Whatever help we are giving, we have not been able to solve the problem or fully control it. We are looking for suggestions,” he said. Several groups in Vidarbh have come forward with suggestions, but the government has ignored the root of the problem.<br /><br />Textiles are India’s second largest export. Yet, why are at least 3 cotton farmers like Chandrakant Gurnule killing themselves everyday, leaving behind a stunned widow and children? These disparities are growing as India globalizes. Its elite is enthralled in malls, while agricultural labourers earn just Rs 25 a day – less than a parking ticket. One metre of cloth sells for a minimum of Rs 50 per metre. The cotton lint needed to make it costs only Rs 6.<br /><br />“India is becoming super India and Bharat is becoming Ethiopia,” says Jawandhia. “Farmers are living only because they are not dying.”<br /><br />It’s a cruel joke called ‘globalisation’.<br /><br /><i>Frontline,</i> Aug. 26 - Sep. 8, 2006<a href="http://www.hinduonnet.com/fline/fl2317/stories/20060908004201200.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-64648990974467242312007-06-30T16:42:00.000+05:302007-09-18T20:12:05.988+05:30Bt rice trials uprootedDIONNE BUNSHA<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">By uprooting Bt rice trials in Tamil Nadu, farm activists and Greenpeace have stirred up the debate on GM food testing. And they have support from unlikely quarters - rice exporters.</span><br /><br />The tranquil routine of Rangaraju’s retired life was in for a rude shock. On the morning of 10th November, people from the Tamil Nadu Farmers Association landed up at his doorstep. They wanted to uproot the harvest in his paddy farm. The farmers told him his rice field had a genetically modified crop whose harvest could contaminate food supplies if it was not destroyed. <br /><br />A bewildered Rangaraju didn’t know how to react. He asked them for time to consult Mahyco, the company that was conducting a field trial in his plot. But before he knew it, the 150-odd people in the crowd had uprooted the Bt rice crop from his field in Ramanathapuram village near Coimbatore in Tamil Nadu. In a matter of one day, this unassuming retired schoolteacher found himself in the midst of an international controversy over genetically engineered crops.<br /><br />“We didn’t know what kind of rice they were growing,” Hemalata, his daughter, told Frontline. “My father signed an agreement with the company, but didn’t study it carefully. We thought it was a hybrid seed, we didn’t know it was something different.” Hemalata’s family feels cheated. “It is fraud by the company. They did not tell us much. Let’s hope it will not put our next crop in danger.”<br /><br />Rangaraju is not alone. Last month, the Bharatiya Kissan Union (BKU) burned the harvest of Bt rice trials in two farms in Haryana and Uttar Pradesh. In Rampura village in Karnal district of Haryana, they burned the field to prevent contamination. When they reached Rudrapur village, Gorakhpur district in UP, BKU activists got the police to seize the grain that was lying in the plot. Along with Panchayat president of the village, they filed a police complaint against Mahyco, the Department of Biotechnology and the Genetic Engineering Approval Committee, for several violations found in a GM Rice trial plot.<br /><br />Here too, the farmers and the panchayat were not aware of that the seeds were genetically modified and had no clue of the likely dangers of growing them in their fields. They had merely leased out the land to Mahyco and signed the agreements without knowing what genetically modified actually means. The company is conducting 10 field trials of Bt rice in six states across the country.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi56UQH8TlodbdK0JEDSbDe_rLGNG4NmRmjcqA7CKXAJcYxBuZqd-N1Y35CASPJSf9cYptngNeaWcY7b3j4vEQXJyipfVD-u9c0fIUI0fLVpj92kT3DBERBJqQAHj9hR0LcgQqT5Q/s1600-h/Bt+rice+trials+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi56UQH8TlodbdK0JEDSbDe_rLGNG4NmRmjcqA7CKXAJcYxBuZqd-N1Y35CASPJSf9cYptngNeaWcY7b3j4vEQXJyipfVD-u9c0fIUI0fLVpj92kT3DBERBJqQAHj9hR0LcgQqT5Q/s400/Bt+rice+trials+1.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081815447663784594" /></a><br />"They are toying with farmers’ ignorance about GM technology,” said Rakesh Tikait, spokesperson of the BKU. “Knowing the unreliable track record of the company and the state regulators, we had to destroy the crop to prevent contamination from the trial plots into the food supply chain where unwary consumers are eating untested products. This is all the more dangerous in a Basmati rice growing belt of the country. The department of Biotechnology’s guidelines require destruction of the GM plant material after the trial. By burning the crop, we have made sure these guidelines are not flouted."<br /><br />Bt rice is a genetically engineered seed designed to make the crop resistant to pests like stem borer and leaf folder. The seeds are created by inserting a synthetic version of a gene (called Cry1Ac) from a naturally occurring soil bacterium called bacillus thuringiensis (bt) into the plant’s DNA so the plant creates its own toxin to destroy the pests. India has allowed the commercial sale of Bt cotton seeds, and the trials for Bt Brinjal are also underway.<br /><br />In September this year, the Supreme court temporarily stopped the Genetic Engineering Approval Committee (GEAC) from granting permission for any more field trials for GM crops. The court was responding to a petition which pointed out several irregularities in the regulatory procedures. Currently, Indian rules allow field trials to start even before biosafety tests are completed. Moreover, monitoring of these trials are extremely lax, almost non-existent.<br /><br />The petition also pointed out the inherent conflict of interest evident in the constitution of regulatory authorities. Senior office-bearers and members of the GEAC are also part of biotech industry-promoted bodies or are crop developers themselves in their personal or institutional capacities. Currently around 150 trials for GE food crops are underway ranging from brinjal to tomato, mustard, maize and of course, rice. <br /><br />No country in the world has cleared the commercial sale of Bt rice. The impacts on human health have not yet been fully tested. A recent study in Madhya Pradesh found that farm workers exposed to Bt cotton had allergies – skin eruptions, swollen faces. Moreover, the Bt toxin can enter the human digestive system and interfere with the bacteria in the intestines. <br /><br />The Cry1Ac gene is a powerful immunogen and can prompt adverse reactions from the immune system. Studies worldwide have shown that eating GM food could result in wasteful growth of gut tissues and bacterial proliferation, intestinal tumours, immune system suppression, interference with the development of the body’s vital organs and reproduction. Earlier this year, there were mass deaths of cattle grazing on the remains in harvested Bt cotton fields in Warangal district in Andhra Pradesh.<br /><br />GM plants could harm the environment and biodiversity. Once out in the fields, there is no way of knowing whether normal plant varieties have been contaminated by the GM variety through pollination, which could lead to the extinction of local crop varieties. Moreover, there is also a danger that insects could develop resistance to the toxin, after which more pesticides would be needed to get rid of them.<br /><br />Farmers groups aren’t alone in their protest against GM crops. Recently, rice exporters held a press conference with Greenpeace demanding that the government halt field trials. They are worried that if there is any contamination, it could harm exports. In August this year, US rice exports were adversely affected when it was found that certain consignments contained GM contaminated rice. The US Department of Agriculture (USDA) admitted that a variety of Bayer’s Liberty Link rice that was not approved for consumption or cultivation in the world (LL rice 601) had been detected in rice intended for export. This raised an alarm in the EU and Japan and adversely affected US rice trade. Indian exporters are scared that our exports could be similarly harmed if there is even a slight doubt of contamination.<br /><br />“It is shocking and unfortunate that the government is allowing even small-scale, field trials of GE rice in the Basmati-growing region. This is a matter of grave concern for all Basmati rice exporters from this region," said Brigadier Anil Adlakha, Executive Director of the All-India Rice Exporters Association (AIREA). “Any contamination from GE rice field trials will be a death knell for millions of farmers and exporters. We want the government to draw the correct lesson from the plight of the US rice industry and stop further GE rice field trials in this region now. If the government doesn’t heed our warning, it could prove to be a costly and irreversible blunder.”<br /><br />Greenpeace recently found that GE rice from field trials in China had found its way into imported Chinese rice products in France, Germany and the UK. Indian exporters are afraid our trade will suffer if any part of the harvest from field trials in India finds its way into food supplies. At present, India exports 400 million tones of rice worth Rs 700 crores.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9F9hL6nqZpZaC1Y1P4WY-1UC7zo42j9oJnI-RE2xTuny5eZnfZ7pGSiTgWpLxfZNLpmXzzjZFWMgCYS4AQtfpGS3iMObtE3qaceZuQ9mh0WnMFo4I8JGXPpGhy8NfO7IBftrqqQ/s1600-h/Bt+rice+trials+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9F9hL6nqZpZaC1Y1P4WY-1UC7zo42j9oJnI-RE2xTuny5eZnfZ7pGSiTgWpLxfZNLpmXzzjZFWMgCYS4AQtfpGS3iMObtE3qaceZuQ9mh0WnMFo4I8JGXPpGhy8NfO7IBftrqqQ/s400/Bt+rice+trials+2.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081815640937312930" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> Activists from the Tamil Nadu Farmers Association destroying a GE rice trial crop in Ramanathapuram, 20 km from Coimbatore</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Greenpeace</center></FONT></-2></B><br />“Why are they so concerned about exports? We should think of filling our own bellies first. Bt rice will help increase productivity by reducing crop damage due to pest attacks,” M.K. Sharma, managing director of MAHYCO told Frontline. As much as 20% of yield could be lost due to the stem borer pest, which Bt rice guards against, he added. Sharma said that Bt cotton sales have been rising exponentially every year because farmers find them effectively. However, he dodged the fact that the places in Maharashtra and Andhra Pradesh where Bt cotton use is amongst the highest are also the areas where farmers suicides are the most.<br /><br />Outraged at the protests on MAHYCO’s field trials, Sharma said, “These people are preventing technology from reaching farmers. They are standing in the way of scientific research. While testing is still underway, how can they say that the crop is dangerous? They have done this for cheap publicity and we have filed a police complaint against them for damaging our trial crop.” He countered the allegation that proper norms were not adhered to. “We have followed all the rules, keeping a 20-metre isolation around the field to prevent pollination outside. The question of contamination does not arise as we were about to burn the field as per the regulations so that there is no trace of any plant material. Moreover, the farmers had full knowledge of the trial. They signed agreements with us in which all the conditions were laid out.”<br /><br />Environmental and agricultural research groups insist that they too were asking for scientific and transparent research. “While dealing with such technology, we have to follow the precautionary principle,” said Kavitha Kuruganti from the Centre for Sustainable Agriculture, Hyderabad. “Until independent scientific laboratory studies show that this crop is safe for human consumption, the government should not allow any field trials to take place.” At present, the biosafety testing is done by the company itself.<br /><br />Even though signatures were taken, field trials were conducted without warning the plot owners about the environmental hazards. “Contamination can take place even beyond the isolation distance. State and local authorities weren’t informed either. Regulatory agencies are not monitoring the field trials properly,” Ms Kuruganti said. During field trials of Bt cotton and Bt brinjal, it was found that untested products from the trials were being sole in the local market, she added.<br /><br />Often GE technology is pushed as the solution to India’s food security problem. However, environmental groups challenge this assumption, asserting that there are several other indigenous plant varieties that can boost farm productivity. “The real solutions for sustainable rice production already exist in farms around the world. They are based on traditional knowledge combined with cutting-edge technology, and are far more reliable and acceptable than destructive industrial agriculture and imprecise genetic engineering,” said Nammalwar, a well-known organic farming scientist from India. <br /><br />“The world’s most important staple crop is too important to gamble with. There are as many as 140,000 different varieties of rice, with an enormous diversity of traits, such as resistance to different pests and diseases and capacity to grow in salty or dry conditions,” said Divya Raghunandan from Greenpeace India. “We don’t need genetic engineering to take advantage of these traits – we need to preserve this resource and knowledge and combine it with safe hi tech breeding techniques.” Greenpeace has just released a report called ‘The Future of Rice’ by scientists Dr Emerlito Borromes and Dr Debal Deb which explains that GE technology is unnecessary since other more sustainable options exist to increase rice yields.<br /><br />Judging by the way field trials are being conducted, it seems like it’s not only the farmers like Rangaraju on whose plots the tests are underway, but also the Indian public, who are left in the dark, clueless of the dangers that GE technology could unleash. <br /><br /><i>Frontline,</i> Nov. 18-Dec. 01, 2006 <a href="http://www.hinduonnet.com/fline/fl2323/stories/20061201003603000.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-37981397733195025512007-06-30T16:30:00.000+05:302007-09-18T20:12:27.022+05:30Back to the BasicsDIONNE BUNSHA <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Organic farming is not the only solution to the problems contributing to the farm crisis. However, it is the only one within the farmer's control. </span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOrTjMuCZHL0ZrTMmjWiQ-K3G8hobiCHsHu-p8iMXjzX2FmeIQkJCI-u7_kTYAz2ZBFFNrtZyyiUOWyJUnJqZ2lvCzR5jVHEpqfnRp59ZuF_Rt-5xvcqLN9GKpRY_TzWHQQ8hFzA/s1600-h/2006-07-16+organic+farmers.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOrTjMuCZHL0ZrTMmjWiQ-K3G8hobiCHsHu-p8iMXjzX2FmeIQkJCI-u7_kTYAz2ZBFFNrtZyyiUOWyJUnJqZ2lvCzR5jVHEpqfnRp59ZuF_Rt-5xvcqLN9GKpRY_TzWHQQ8hFzA/s400/2006-07-16+organic+farmers.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081811947265438338" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> WITHIN THEIR CONTROL: Farmers can get the same or a better yield without spending on pesticide and fertilizer.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br /><br />While hordes of media swamped Vidarbha just before the PM's visit, I was there with two agricultural scientists Vipin and Devang on a different trip. <br /><br />Vipin and Devang are from Sristi, an organisation that works to develop eco-friendly solutions to local problems. They have a long-term remedy to the farm crisis, one that will go beyond the temporary relief that the PM has doled out. Yes, immediate action is important. It may prevent several suicides. The PM's interest waiver and re-scheduling of bank loans will give people much-needed loans to sow their next crop of cotton and soyabean. But then what? What happens at the end of the season when they can't pay off their loans once again? <br /><br />Crux of the crisis <br />They will be in the same dilemma simply because the cost of farming is higher than the pathetic price they receive for their inputs. That is the crux of the farm crisis — spiralling costs, miserable prices. In the last 10 years, the cost of living has risen dramatically, but the price of cotton has fallen. That's why the rural economy is collapsing. All the other symptoms — inadequate bank credit, exploitative moneylenders, the unscrupulous input traders, illness, school dropouts — are aggravated by this basic problem. <br /><br />There is not much farmers can do to change government policy that determines output prices, trade tariffs, social security and subsidies. That is beyond their control. But the one thing farmers can do is to try and reduce costs of cultivation. <br /><br />That's where Sristi has a plan. They have developed and verified several indigenous, organic farming practices that have worked. Farmers can get the same or a better output without spending a penny on pesticides and fertilizers. All they have to do is prepare organic pesticide, fertilizer and growth promoters from plants and other material available in their own environment. There's no need for them to depend on a shop owner and get entangled in a web of exploitation and debt. <br /><br />"In fact, the solution is simple," says Prof. Anil Gupta, founder of Sristi. "Why spend so much resources on pesticides? Go along with animal rearers in your area and look for plants that animals do not eat. These plants are the potential source of pesticides, because animals do not eat them; the toxicity inherent in them." Sristi tries to document, develop and share local solutions, ones that farmers have invented. <br /><br />Several tried and tested organic techniques may save farmers from the clutches of trader-moneylenders. For instance, farmers can use the whey from buttermilk as a growth promoter. You don't need Bt seeds to ward off the bollworm; you can use whey or lantana extract. This is a two-in-one solution — you control lantana weed and at the same time get a local cheap pesticide. Calotripis or many other such plants found abundantly around the field, uneaten by animals, can be sprayed or even mixed with irrigation water. Farmers in different parts of Gujarat and other states have developed these techniques. <br /><br />Contrary to popular misconceptions, organic farming doesn't mean low productivity. The output is the same or sometimes more than that of others who use chemical inputs. Sristi makes sure each method they advocate has first been tested scientifically by an independent research organisation before it suggests that farmers adopt the technique. <br /><br />We met a bunch of farmers in Wardha who have switched to organic cultivation. They are not as anxious as most other farmers here who illogically douse their fields with pesticide and fertilizer. They don't have to worry about how they will get a loan, or how much pesticide to buy in the coming season. Most farmers dread the end of the season — it's payback time. But organic farmers look forward to a good crop that they can sell at the price they choose, not that dictated by exploitative moneylenders. <br /><br />Pramod Kadam, a farmer and agricultural consultant from Wardha, is still paying off a huge debt he accumulated while using chemical inputs on his 15-acre field. "Now that I have switched to organic cotton cultivation, my costs have reduced from Rs. 5,000-8,000 an acre to around Rs. 3,000 an acre (for seeds, hiring bullock carts and wages for labourers). My yield is higher. The average here is around 2.5 quintals per acre, but I get four." So, he has saved on costs and gained in productivity. <br /><br />Switch to organic <br />Many small farmers are apprehensive about the switch to organic. They feel it is too much of a risk, an experiment that can only be tried by big farmers or those who have irrigated land. But many of the organic farmers we met had small holdings. "Small farmers gain the most because we can't afford the high costs of cultivation. Big farmers can afford chemical cultivation," explained Sanjay Tigaonkar, an organic farmer from Wardha. <br /><br />Organic farming is not the only solution to the problems contributing to the farm crisis. But it is the only one within the farmer's control. All other factors like prices, credit or irrigation are decided by a government that is more concerned about the Sensex than suicides. The farm crisis will continue until the Government decides to protect our farmers like the U.S. and EU protect theirs. Farmers in the EU are paid one dollar a day for every cow they rear — more than the daily wage of agricultural labourers in India. Until we protect our farmers, they will remain on the edge. Organic farming will definitely ease the burden of costs. But if that is not a viable route, will the government spend a fraction of the money it spends on promoting non-sustainable technologies on promotion of non-chemical alternatives? <br /><br />Technical inputs <br />Besides monetary inputs, Vidarbha also needs technical inputs. If there were better agricultural advice, there may not have been such a dire demand for credit. There has been no competent agricultural guidance for decades. Few have thought of creative solutions. Even simple things like finding other sources of income like planting trees or rainwater harvesting in a region where only 11 per cent of farms are irrigated. <br /><br />Until now the only technical advice has been from agriculture minister Sharad Pawar and film star Nana Patekar peddling Monsanto's Bt cottonseeds. Most people can't remember the last time they met an agricultural extension officer. So it's left to the input shop dealer to give advice, pushing the most expensive products to increase his sales. <br /><br />Despite the massive failure of the Bt cotton crop last year (after which the Government had to compensate farmers), most people still opt for the seeds this year. Why? Simply because the company has lowered the price from Rs. 1,800 to Rs. 750. Now, it's only Rs. 200 cheaper than the hybrid variety. Might as well try it again. Though proven to be more effective, organic methods will never get the kind of hype that surrounds Bt cotton, simply because there is no money to be made from promoting self-reliance. <br /><br />Vidarbha's crisis shows that we have gone full circle and it is time to go back to the basics. "India aspires to be a knowledge society but in agriculture, there is hardly any effort to draw upon our rich data base of agricultural practices (many of which have been compiled by Sristi for dissemination). How many sites exist where scientists are working with farmers' on their fields? We have to promote farmers' experimentation and innovations to generate sustainable solutions," says Prof. Gupta. <br /><br />Sometimes the answers are right in front of us, but we can't see them because they are too simple. <br /><br />For more information: <a href="http://www.sristi.org "> Sristi </a><strong></strong> <a href=""></a><br /><br /><i>The Hindu Sunday Magazine</i> July 16, 2006 <a href="http://www.hindu.com/mag/2006/07/16/stories/2006071600220400.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-29394821311935717092007-06-30T16:15:00.000+05:302007-06-30T16:29:55.850+05:30Weddings in the time of suicideDIONNE BUNSHA <br />in Amaravati, Maharashtra <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">On the mass weddings in Vidarbha, a phenomenon that has grown due to the agrarian crisis. </span><br /> <br />Kishan Bansod, 27, greets us as we enter, peering through the strings of plastic beads dangling from his forehead. He is the bridegroom. "You seem very excited," we remarked. "Let's see how long it lasts," he laughs. <br /><br />The bride, Asmita Wankhede, arrived and they sit at the front of the line of couples waiting to get married. While Bansod continues grinning and joking with his friends Asmita plays the demure bride. They wait patiently to get on stage while an aged woman sings and the master of ceremony invites local leaders on stage to give a speech. Sisters and little nephews and nieces bustle around the couple. <br /><br />Many other couples are sitting in the line. Most men are in white shirt and trousers, with maybe a small sehra (head-dress). Only one wears a turban. Many have decked themselves up with nail polish and mehndi. The women too are dressed colourfully, but without much jewellery. <br /><br />We are at a mass marriage in a small school courtyard in Amravati, a district that has witnessed many farmers' suicides. Community weddings are part of the government's rehabilitation package for farmers in this region. "Many of those who committed suicide had borrowed heavily from moneylenders for their daughters' weddings. Several of them can't afford to get their children married," says Vijay Wankhede, a member of the trust that has organised this wedding. <br /><br />"There are 12 couples here from different communities. As part of the scheme, the government also gives them a mangalsutra, a gas cylinder and some vessels totally worth Rs.10,000." So far, 6,740 couples have been married at mass weddings in the Vidarbha region.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWc-Dl1QAmmKVyXmPzVn1pg0v-6JoN-uxryJR8pcyg1lrOPIHDreg11Iqov9IM3DYwORHI_xmkwnfleFRpHuICdEnw9uqRhfANg_N2X2qVW4yzEzNiuZXwNz5SAjF_RCJT8vh95w/s1600-h/2006-07-01+weddings+in+the+time+of+suicide+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWc-Dl1QAmmKVyXmPzVn1pg0v-6JoN-uxryJR8pcyg1lrOPIHDreg11Iqov9IM3DYwORHI_xmkwnfleFRpHuICdEnw9uqRhfANg_N2X2qVW4yzEzNiuZXwNz5SAjF_RCJT8vh95w/s400/2006-07-01+weddings+in+the+time+of+suicide+1.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081809086817219154" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>A mass wedding in Amaravati. The State government has sponsored many such ceremonies as part of its rehabilitation policy.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Ranjit Deshmukh</center></FONT></-2></B><br />"We came here because the situation in her house is very bad. Her father wouldn't have been able to afford the wedding otherwise," said Kishan. Asmita's father was sitting away from the ceremony, in a classroom on the first floor of the school building. <br /><br />"I got my first daughter married to my nephew so there weren't too many expenses involved. My niece got married in a mass wedding a few months back," Namdeo Wankhede tells us. "I don't have any money, so we got the wedding done here. I can't even find the funds to sow the next crop, so I have leased out one of my three acres of land. If people with more than 10 acres can't make both ends meet, how are we supposed to survive?" <br /><br />Many have not survived. There have been 592 suicides since June 2005. Spiralling costs of inputs and falling output prices have meant huge losses. There is high use of pesticides and fertilizers, increasing farmers' costs but not their yield. Flow of bank credit has not kept up with rising costs, so farmers have to borrow from moneylenders at interest rates varying from 60 to 120 per cent. The government has not protected cotton farmers with trade tariffs. Farmers do not get proper advice about agricultural techniques owing to the dearth of government extension work. <br /><br />Once a rich cotton belt, Vidarbha is now drowning in debt. The State government has neglected the farm crisis here. The rains have arrived a month late and sowing should soon begin, but most farmers are desperate because they have no money for seeds and other inputs. <br /><br />For Namdeo, there seems no way out of this tight spot. "Every year, we make losses. There is barely any work on the fields so I can't even earn as much as a daily labourer. The banks won't lend us money. And I refuse to take a loan from the moneylender because he asks for my land title deed. Why should I mortgage it to him for a pittance?" <br /><br />As the men chat upstairs, the marriage continues below. We meet Kavita Athavale and Sachin Vaidya sitting in the queue. "We like this wedding. There are different people from different villages. And most importantly, it saves our parents from spending," says Kavita, an undergraduate student of arts. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofDazQvi_EyW3T1TITEclBOYWF29zMY9TaVOL9zn9EDAjkToDrEoRyeeKTb3QhQvIdicrI2q2Fiv4EbtGVSLcrpNEtY9muixJ5DvM-Teu0LMQ_KxE1RUC-T1krbYA7tQAawRqfA/s1600-h/2006-07-01+weddings+in+the+time+of+suicide+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofDazQvi_EyW3T1TITEclBOYWF29zMY9TaVOL9zn9EDAjkToDrEoRyeeKTb3QhQvIdicrI2q2Fiv4EbtGVSLcrpNEtY9muixJ5DvM-Teu0LMQ_KxE1RUC-T1krbYA7tQAawRqfA/s400/2006-07-01+weddings+in+the+time+of+suicide+2.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081809623688131170" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>Kavita Athavale and Sachin Vaidya, after their wedding</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Ranjit Deshmuk</center></FONT></-2></B><br />"My father is a daily-wage labourer. We don't have any land. He doesn't get much work. There is no food at home, and there is lot of tension. We have been waiting for a year to get married. When we read about this in the newspapers, we decided to come here." Kavita will leave her village to join Sachin who works as a security guard in Nagpur. When we ask to meet her father, Sachin says: "He must be somewhere at the back, crying because his daughter will leave." <br /><br />We find Kavita's father sitting at the entrance, just outside the shamiana. "I'm still paying back the loans I had taken to get my three other daughters married. We get work for only two or three days a week and wages are only Rs.40 a day," says Dayaram Athavale. "I couldn't even give her a gift. It is such a bad time. There is no rain, no work," says Kavita's uncle.<br /> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgb_KdENG7H8-vhbqEe5T8Oz52eHjzGjjJ_qRhGRimWPn3PkwClF8BLGLhEeSPR3Bftpr9q8x-q_cIrrVUeh14tAjB7OFuHumOGMy4VyTTqRO-FjJcwBM08YEWg38hWqXKXMhgsA/s1600-h/2006-07-01+weddings+in+the+time+of+suicide+3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgb_KdENG7H8-vhbqEe5T8Oz52eHjzGjjJ_qRhGRimWPn3PkwClF8BLGLhEeSPR3Bftpr9q8x-q_cIrrVUeh14tAjB7OFuHumOGMy4VyTTqRO-FjJcwBM08YEWg38hWqXKXMhgsA/s400/2006-07-01+weddings+in+the+time+of+suicide+3.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081810053184860786" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>The father of the bride, Dayaram Athavale</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Ranjit Deshmukh</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Inside, the couples are finally called on stage, after enduring the speeches. At one end of the stage, there is an array of photos and paintings - the Buddha, Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, Jyotiba Phule, Shahu Maharaj, Shivaji. The ceremony is not too elaborate. A sloka is recited, the couples exchange garlands and a mangalsutra. No priest, no fire, no rituals. <br /><br />"This is better than my wedding. There weren't so many people at mine and the expenses are much less," Kavita's sister Sunita Ogle says. "I will also get my kids married like this." <br /><br />To many families in distress the mass marriages have brought some desperately needed joy. And to the grinning groom Kishan who may not have otherwise been able to take home his bride proudly. <br /><br /><i>Frontline,</i> July 1-14, 2006 <a href="http://www.flonnet.com/fl2313/stories/20060714002303600.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-18983332258751706252007-06-30T16:05:00.000+05:302007-09-18T20:12:05.989+05:30Biotech BrinjalDIONNE BUNSHA<br /><br />Union Agriculture Minister Sharad Pawar had a rather unusual bunch of visitors last week - Greenpeace protesters dressed up as sheep and cattle, who camped outside his office. The "animals" were asking for an investigation into the death of 1,600 head of cattle and sheep in Andhra Pradesh in April 2006. The deaths were closely linked to prolonged consumption of Bt cotton stalks and leaves that were left in fields after the harvest. <br /><br />Bt cotton is the only genetically modified (GM) seed sold in India. In the four years since it has been in use, not only has it failed to live up to its claim of being a `miracle seed', but it has also had harmful effects on biosafety. <br /><br />At a time when the safety of Bt cotton is highly suspect, the government's Genetic Engineering Approval Committee (GEAC) is considering clearance of large-scale field trials of Bt Brinjal. It is the first time that GM Brinjal is being released for an advanced stage of field trials in open conditions anywhere in the world. It is also the closest India has got to sanctioning GM food crops. <br /><br />If cleared, it will be the first time that the GEAC allows large-scale field trials for GM food crops. Such field trials could lead to the uncontrolled release of genetically modified organisms into the environment, which could contaminate normal varieties of the crop. Japan and several European countries have banned cultivation of GM food crops. But India is allowing it entry without taking adequate precautions.<br /> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyRCrgWzOFrk-u8siXfVg6HtNHLF_5bNl51X-Ks5N0aJZRljTD8fiCsr01IXBJ7SNAamI6UdaHvQ_Z9xk6DkDPcdsYHfMV_x9Pt8eiO4J4togt6Tb5BnHUB-Oe1hMFaEbZsbLlTg/s1600-h/2006-06-17+Bt+Brinjal+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyRCrgWzOFrk-u8siXfVg6HtNHLF_5bNl51X-Ks5N0aJZRljTD8fiCsr01IXBJ7SNAamI6UdaHvQ_Z9xk6DkDPcdsYHfMV_x9Pt8eiO4J4togt6Tb5BnHUB-Oe1hMFaEbZsbLlTg/s400/2006-06-17+Bt+Brinjal+1.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081805917131354690" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>Greenpeace Activists demonstrate outside Union Agriculture Minister Sharad Pawar's residence against GM agricultural products, in New Delhi on June 16.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: S.Subramanium</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Bt seeds are created by inserting a gene (Cry1Ac) from the soil bacterium Bacillus thuringiensis into a plant cell. This gene is supposed to protect the brinjal from insects such as the fruit and shoot borer. Bt cotton provides resistance to bollworm because the insect dies after eating the Bt toxin; the toxin disrupts its digestive process. <br /><br />Biosafety tests for Bt brinjal started in 2002. After two years of greenhouse evaluation, Mahyco, the company producing the seed, started field trials in 11 locations with five hybrids in 2004. The results of the limited field trials have been posted on the GEAC website. The GEAC has invited public feedback before it decides whether to give clearance for large-scale field trials. <br /><br />Several environmental groups and farmers' associations have appealed against the trials. But the GEAC is dismissive. "We would like some concrete objections based on the data placed before us by Mahyco, not general, emotional arguments," B.S. Parsheera, Chairperson of the GEAC, told Frontline. However, environmentalists opposing the trials say that the data are too sketchy to provide scientific feedback. "This shows how the GEAC takes decisions that affect the health of millions - based on meaningless presentations by companies," said Kavitha Kuruganti from the Centre for Sustainable Agriculture. <br /><br />Top biotech scientists are also critical of the manner in which the GM tests are being conducted. "It is an absolute scandal for us to allow further trials despite the failure of Bt cotton. The seed should be withdrawn immediately, just like faulty drugs are removed from the market. We are being taken for a ride by the MNC [multinational company]-government nexus. These committees don't even have specialised scientists. They exist only to promote the interests of powerful companies, not of the country. And these MNCs, such as Monsanto which is promoting Bt seeds in India, have a notorious record all over the world," said Dr. Pushpa Bhargava, founder of the Centre for Cellular and Molecular Biology, a world-renowned pioneer of genetic engineering in India. <br /><br />"No country in the world has a satisfactory system of assessing the risks associated with the release of GM plants into the environment. What has happened in this extremely lax environment all over the world is extremely disturbing, " Bhargava explained. "It is shocking that no tests were done to monitor the effects on cattle or sheep if they ate the leaves of the Bt cotton plant, even though in India crop plants are often fed to cattle as fodder. That is why so many animals died in Andhra Pradesh. The main problem is that there is a conflict of interest in using the tests and data provided by the company." <br /><br />The GEAC denies any such vested interest. "What vested interest? We are following all the norms laid down. Many institutes across the country are conducting the tests," said Parsheera. <br /><br />The effects on human health are numerous and often unknown. A recent study in Madhya Pradesh found that farm workers exposed to Bt cotton had allergies including skin eruptions and swollen faces. The Cry1Ac gene is a powerful immunogen and can prompt adverse reactions from the immune system. If humans eat Bt brinjal it is possible that the Bt toxin can enter the human digestive system and interfere with the bacteria in the intestines. There are severe limitations to current allergy testing procedures for genetically modified organisms. Many GM crops such as beans and Starlink corn were found to produce allergies after they were sold in the market. <br /><br />The NptII gene used as a marker in Bt brinjal can affect antibiotic resistance. The cauliflower mosaic virus, a viral promoter used in Bt brinjal, is similar to the hepatitis B virus, and could reactivate dormant viruses. Studies worldwide have shown that eating GM food can result in wasteful growth of gut tissues and bacterial proliferation, intestinal tumours, immune system suppression and interference with the development of the body's vital organs. <br /><br />Mahyco, however, denied that there were any health risks. "Bt is no more immunogenic than any other protein that human and animals are exposed to," said Mahendra Sharma, managing director of Mahyco Monsanto Biotech and general manager of Mahyco. "It does not have any effect on the gut of mammals. It only kills insects. Studies have shown that if mammals consume 100mg of the toxin for every 1 kg of body weight, there is no adverse effect. We conducted tests on cooked Bt brinjal and they showed that the DNA disintegrated with the heat and there was no harmful effect. There is no risk of antibiotic resistance or risk of re-activating any viruses." None of Mahyco's claims has been verified independently, said Bhargava. <br /><br />Genetically modified plants can harm the environment and biodiversity. Once out in the fields, there is no way of knowing whether normal plant varieties have been contaminated by the GM variety through pollination, which could lead to the extinction of local crop varieties. This is the reason for the `buffer zone' that most GM crops have rarely followed in India where land is scarce. Moreover, the Cry1Ac gene affects butterflies and moths and alters soil microbiology. Farmers using Bt cotton in India report decline in soil productivity. However, Mahyco said that its tests had ruled out the possibility of any such adverse impact on the environment. <br /><br />Three varieties of the Bt cotton seed were denied permission of extension by the GEAC, based on the Andhra Pradesh government's analysis that their performance was inadequate. Two more varieties were banned by the Andhra Pradesh government after farmers' crops failed and the company refused to pay compensation. Yet, the GEAC feels that India needs GM technology. "We are far behind the rest of the world in biotechnology. We should catch up or we will face severe food security problems," said Parsheera. <br /><br />"It is absurd to say that GM crops will bring us food security. Is there no food security in E.U. countries that have banned GM?" asked Bhargava. "It may kill biodiversity. Several organic methods of cultivation have proved far more effective," he said. <br /><br />Field studies by the Deccan Development Society disproved many of the claims made about the advantages of using Bt Cotton. It is supposed to reduce expenses on pest management and increase productivity, but the study found that organic farmers had higher net returns and lower pest management costs. <br /><br />The government is racing headlong into the genetic engineering maze, though agricultural studies are showing that natural processes are more effective. In just four years of GM technology, we have seen many disastrous results. Will no one listen as nature strikes back? <br /><br /><i>Frontline,</i> June 17-30, 2006 <a href="http://www.hinduonnet.com/fline/fl2312/stories/20060630004902400.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-61122732211632005272007-06-30T15:49:00.000+05:302007-06-30T16:04:45.368+05:30Villages for Sale in Vidarbh<span style="font-style:italic;">To draw attention to their desperation, many villages in the suicide-ridden Vidharbh region have declared that their land and kidneys are up for sale. </span><br /><br />DIONNE BUNSHA<br />in Amravati and Wardha, Maharashtra.<br /><br />'Kidney Sale Centre’: proclaims a banner sprawled across a ramshackle bamboo tent in Shingnapur village in Amravati district. Farmers here are threatening to sell their kidneys.<br /><br />"We have invited the Prime Minister and the President to inaugurate this kidney shop. They should allow us to sell our kidneys. We are all ruined by debt. Many farmers are killing themselves. Our kidneys are all we have left to sell," says Madhavgir Champat Giri, who sold all his land to pay his bank loan. <br /><br />Not only Shingnapur, but other villages in Vidarbh – Dorli, Lehegaon and Shivni Rasulapur - have declared they are up for sale. They can no longer survive by living off the land. It’s the first time that people have protested against the suicides here. Everyday, local newspapers report at least two or three more suicides. Since June 2005, around 309 farmers have killed themselves, unable to bear the pressures of huge debts, grim poverty and lost self-esteem.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvh3zeJ1U6ath7aUZ_JiWdGMpjbuH66Ofw9tlSr5i_cHlNRpp5z47kHMTfImqFysqdpQE958xkZt4cruElPs_aZZLSq8s8Yfm8toC5e72ETRqnQybIcAnqdrm03uPH4o4znPsYcg/s1600-h/2006-04-11+villages+for+sale+pic+3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvh3zeJ1U6ath7aUZ_JiWdGMpjbuH66Ofw9tlSr5i_cHlNRpp5z47kHMTfImqFysqdpQE958xkZt4cruElPs_aZZLSq8s8Yfm8toC5e72ETRqnQybIcAnqdrm03uPH4o4znPsYcg/s400/2006-04-11+villages+for+sale+pic+3.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081801965761442322" /></a><br />"Earlier, I even had money to dig a well on my field. Now, I have nothing,” says Madhavgir. “I sold my land. I can’t find work. No one can afford to pay farm labourers. There’s no food at home. We have become hungry and naked, roaming like dogs. We just drink water to fill our stomachs and go to sleep.” <br /><br />This once-prosperous cotton belt in eastern Maharashtra has been ruined in the last 15 years of liberalisation. Production costs have multiplied three to five times, but the market price of cotton has fallen from Rs 2,500 per quintal in 1991 to Rs 1,785 today. Prices of other crops have also fallen. Most farmers are running up huge losses, and have to borrow heavily to keep afloat. Since many have defaulted on loan repayments, they can’t borrow from banks. Their only recourse is the trader-moneylenders, who lend at 60 to 120% interest. Farmers are trapped in debt.<br /><br />“This year has been very bad,” says Suryapal Chavan, a Kisan Sabha activist from Shingnapur. “Both the soya and cotton crops were washed out by heavy rains. Worse, the government has lowered the price at which it procures cotton by Rs 500. People are worried about how they will run their homes and get money to sow in the next season.” <br /><br />It’s the end of the harvest season, but the government hasn’t even opened procurement centres to buy cotton. Yards that were once crowded with bullocks carts loaded of cotton and where farmers would wait for days to sell their produce, are now deserted. Farmers are selling to traders since they are offering a rate only slightly lower than the government - Rs 1500-1700 per quintal. “There was once a time when cart loads of cotton would leave this village. This year, not a single cart has left,” says Giri. Government procurement is just 6.25 lakh quintals of cotton this season, compared to 185 lakh quintals last season, a drop of 96%. Last year, the government had opened 410 procurement centres. This year, there are only 160.<br /><br />Once, cotton was considered 'white gold', and Vidarbha's black soil was perfect for cotton cultivation. With liberalization, the 'white gold' is now worthless. The government has withdrawn market controls, tariffs and subsidies for agriculture, leaving Indian farmers to compete with farmers in the US and EU, who are protected by trade restrictions and given billions of dollars in subsidies. The US 2002 Farm bill alone gave $ 190 billion to large companies growing cotton, wheat, corn, soybean, rice, barley, oats and sorghum. <br /> <br />"Ten years back, the international price of cotton lint was $1.10 per pound, but now it is 52 cents. The retail price of cotton then was Rs 40 per metre, and it is now Rs 80. Retail prices have doubled but farmers are forced to sell their produce at half the price," says Vijay Jawandhia, Shetkari Sanghatana activist. The government doesn’t even provide proper infrastructure like irrigation or marketing facilities. <br /><br />The Indian government could protect its producers from imports and crashing international prices by hiking the import duty on cotton. At present, it is only 10 per cent. Import duty on other products like sugar (60%), rice (80%) and second hand cars (180%) are much higher. “The government is willing to protect sugar farmers and foreign car manufacturers here but not cotton farmers. Imports have flooded the market and prices have fallen,” says Jawandhia.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS1RufYzb2nFy0T4TgCxuaKzTO7inlwFrQIIg7vAmhyphenhypheni4clWRS4ds4iSkclQg9D9AmBK1qFAF_jo27nR7nSRHl8uC_o_lGWgUKcQyDfBPQ8O_aXfOOl3_n9aa9v0Xof5sj94PQjA/s1600-h/2006-04-11+Villages+for+sale+pic+1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS1RufYzb2nFy0T4TgCxuaKzTO7inlwFrQIIg7vAmhyphenhypheni4clWRS4ds4iSkclQg9D9AmBK1qFAF_jo27nR7nSRHl8uC_o_lGWgUKcQyDfBPQ8O_aXfOOl3_n9aa9v0Xof5sj94PQjA/s400/2006-04-11+Villages+for+sale+pic+1.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081802313653793314" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> A banner that announces the "sale" of Dorli village.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />The US, EU, Japan and Canada restrict trade from developing countries by keeping tariffs at 350% to 900% on food products. But India provides incentives to agricultural imports. Even within India, the ‘free market’ doesn’t apply to all agricultural goods. Some are favoured more than others. Agriculture minister Sharad Pawar has ensured that Maharashtra’s politically powerful sugar co-operative lobby remains protected. “The central government regulates the flow of sugar into the market so that the price of sugar is steady. Why don’t they do the same to protect cotton farmers?” asks Jawandhia. Left to their own devices, farmers in are threatening to abandon agriculture and trade in their kidneys. <br /><br />The flash point in Shingnapur came when suicide struck closer to home, in their village. Now, it wasn’t something ‘out there’ in someone else’s backyard. On the night of 16th December 2005, Jagdish Deshmukh (40) killed himself by swallowing pesticide. “We held a meeting and decided that we have to unite people. So we started this kidney sale agitation. What other solution? People are so desperate that some would really sell their kidneys, if given a chance,” said Chavan,<br /><br />Jagdish’s wife, Sangeeta is left to look after their three children…and the debt. He owed the bank Rs 11,000, but she doesn’t know how much more he had borrowed from moneylenders. “This season, we got nothing - just 20 kg of cotton and no soyabean. Bank officials came to demand the loan five days before he killed himself. They also came three days after,” said Sangeeta. <br /><br />Now, she grows vegetables on their farm and sells them to earn Rs 10 to 20 everyday. “We have an electricity bill of Rs 7000. Yesterday, they came and threatened to cut our connection if we don’t pay. If they do that, then I won’t be able to grow vegetables without the water pump. We’ll be left with nothing.” Her son, Sandeep (12) stopped going to the secondary school in Shivni village, four km away, because they can’t afford the Rs 4 bus ticket. Now, he goes around the village selling vegetables. The recession has affected all aspects of village life – children’s education, health, there’s no money to marry daughters, and people are selling off their cattle.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnIQD8lf8RQA9wjvNkzepSEo0YSXt1wGczQ42c2v8eEnMLt7jp-hajaKxp5qFKz_8QxfyrpBVLgRdceJx4_JqqvoudBHtXUYhywVVt0kA40puZZwKXfcuCEyS0qmvydCYhsMwj9g/s1600-h/2006-04-11+villages+for+sale+pic+2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnIQD8lf8RQA9wjvNkzepSEo0YSXt1wGczQ42c2v8eEnMLt7jp-hajaKxp5qFKz_8QxfyrpBVLgRdceJx4_JqqvoudBHtXUYhywVVt0kA40puZZwKXfcuCEyS0qmvydCYhsMwj9g/s400/2006-04-11+villages+for+sale+pic+2.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081803022323397170" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> The "Farmers' Kidney Sale Centre" in Shingnapur village.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />For the first time, landless labourers from Shingnapur have migrated to cities. Meet the ‘Mumbai Return’ gang – eight who ventured out to try their luck finding work in the big city. Their first adventure outside their village didn’t last long. “We went to a construction site at Nerul, where we worked for two days. Then, there was no work and two of our friends got malaria, so we spent all our money to put them in hospital. As soon as they got out of hospital, we hopped on a train ticketless and came back home,” said Maruti Ade, a landless worker.<br /><br />Maruti and his wife Reena’s find it more difficult to get work even once a week. Landowners can’t afford to pay wages. “Many are shifting to soyabean, and cultivating less cotton and jowar because their prices are so low. That means less work for us, because there’s no need for much labour in soyabean harvesting. Cotton harvesting gives women a lot of work, and men are needed for the jowar crop,” said Reena. “Those who used to grow tur and jowar and distribute it to us don’t have grain in their own homes now.” <br /><br />The crisis has affected all – rich and poor. Meet Anil Tatte, a prize-winning farmer from Lehegaon in Amravati district. He won a Krishi Bhushan award from the state government. His innovative farm techniques made his yield double that of other farmers. Today, Anil is sinking along with the rest of this village. They too have declared that their village is up for sale. “This year, I even tried Bt cotton. It’s expensive. I spent Rs 80,000 on my 10 acres, and got only Rs 50,000. This award-winning farm is now in losses.”<br /><br />Lehegaon was once prosperous, situated in what was once called India’s Orange County. “In the last five years, there has been very little water. I have had to cut all the 2000 orange trees in my orchard. They all dried up,” says Anil. Like most places in Vidarbh, the problem here is irrigation. Only 10% of land in the region is irrigated. In Lehegaon, even private wells have run dry, as the water table has fallen. “The Upper Wardha dam is near our village, but we don’t get water from it. Pipelines from there go to the adjoining Wardha district.”<br /><br />The ginning factory in the village, which used to employ 400 people, hasn’t opened this season. Dairy has collapsed. “Ten years back, we had 600 cattle. Now we have 60. The price we get for milk is too low. There’s a bank here. But now only a few traders go there. Recently, the government arrested many moneylenders. Even they have stopped lending. They were the only source of funds for farmers,” says Nilesh Tatte, a young farmer. <br /><br />Shivni Rasulapur, next to Shingnapur, has also said that they will mortgage the entire village to pay off their debts. “The only time officials visit us is when the bank officers come to collect our loans. Or when the electric board threatens to cut our lines. Otherwise, no one has bothered,” said Purshottom Bansod, a farmer leading the agitation. <br /><br />“I want to sell my land. But no one has the money to buy it,” says Arun Chambhare, a small farmer from Dorli, the first village to declare it was for sale. “We are living in darkness. They cut my electricity line. My daughter studies for her 12th standard exam with a lantern.” Dorli, a predominantly Dalit village, has 47 families, of which 32 are registered as below the poverty line. Many more are sliding further downhill.<br /><br />How much longer before the threats and protests to sell land and kidneys become a grim reality?<br /><br /><i>Frontline,</i> March 11 - 24, 2006 <a href="http://www.hinduonnet.com/fline/fl2305/stories/20060324002304300.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-25972663110259418772007-03-31T17:11:00.000+05:302007-04-22T21:48:34.154+05:30Vidarbha in Flames<i>A local legislator attempted suicide in the legislative assembly, frustrated by all other methods to alert the state to the farmers suicides</i><br /><br />DIONNE BUNSHA<br />In Vidarbha, Maharashtra<br /><br />It was time for a reality check. In the safe confines of the legislative assembly, Maharashtra’s politicians witnessed a dose of the real world last week. Gulabrao Gavande, a Shiv Sena legislator, wanted them to wake up to the daily tragedy of the Vidarbha countryside. So, he rushed to the floor of the assembly and poured a bottle of kerosene on himself. Then, he opened a bottle of pesticide and was about to swallow it when other legislators rushed to stop him. Gavande was banned from attending the rest of the session. <br /><br />His recklessness could have set the entire house on fire - literally. But his shocking suicide attempt ignited a fiery debate about the government’s neglect of the agricultural crisis in the underdeveloped Vidarbha region of eastern Maharashtra. Farmers’ suicides are on the rise. Everyday, a few more deaths are reported in local newspapers. But so far the state has not addressed this alarming tragedy. A defensive chief minister promised to announce a ‘package’ for Vidarbha’s farmers, but was not willing to say anything more. The opposition too has no creative solutions to offer. Shiv Sena leader Uddhav Thackeray rushed to Vidarbha and assured farmers his party’s muscle power to bash up moneylenders and bank officials who harass them.<br /><br />Meanwhile, in his hospital bed, a visibly shaken Gavande told Frontline, “I don’t know what I was thinking when I did this. I’m very troubled seeing so many people kill themselves. Morchas and protests have had no effect on the government. I wanted to awaken the administration to this crisis.” <br /><br />Gavande, a local MLA from Akola (and also a wrestler), has been brawling with powerful moneylenders who have been snatching land from farmers. “Moneylenders are taking advantage of people’s desperation. They won’t lend until the farmer signs a document handing over land ownership to them. Then, when the farmer can’t repay they take possession of the land. So farmers land worth Rs two lakh for a Rs 20,000 loan. Moneylenders have captured around 5000 acres of land in this way,” explains Gavande. <br /><br />A son of the soil, Gavande uses the methods he knows best. “Only I have the strength to fight these thugs because I am a wrestler and have an akhada with me,” he smiles. “I told the villagers not to spare anyone who harasses them. Recently, when a moneylender told one farmer to sell his daughter but pay back the loan, the villagers of Dadham got together and flogged him to death.” In the last few months, the government has cracked down on moneylenders, arresting several of them. But that has also led to more distress since they are the only source of funds available to farmers. Since most of them have defaulted on bank loans, that option is not open to them anymore.<br /><br />Mounting debts are just a symptom of the crisis in agriculture. The crux of the problem is profitability, not only for the cotton crop, but also for others like oranges, soya, wheat, jowar, chillies or paddy. “The prices of all products have risen dramatically over the years. Our input costs have also shot up. But for the last 10 years, the price we get for our crop has remained the same,” says Jitendra Tatte, a large cotton and orange farmer from Lehegaon in Amravati. Input costs for his 60-acre farm have drowned him in debt. The more he cultivates the more his losses. “Everyone is in the same distress. Some have committed suicide. The rest of us live in agony.” <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6trFYXZ7Ke7V1izJKqWiLZdscqe8N4KpT7t2dSkWkw0-aYYPTXyqdH1oICuhHwdwE1V6_nzY1b8mlcKXpvP9b05F40Lg7nebUhxSifYitcRlG1ZkYHI5akA6VfRra-52j37kzOQ/s1600-h/2005-12-17+vidarbha+suicides+pic.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6trFYXZ7Ke7V1izJKqWiLZdscqe8N4KpT7t2dSkWkw0-aYYPTXyqdH1oICuhHwdwE1V6_nzY1b8mlcKXpvP9b05F40Lg7nebUhxSifYitcRlG1ZkYHI5akA6VfRra-52j37kzOQ/s400/2005-12-17+vidarbha+suicides+pic.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048055384947736178" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>At a cotton farm</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Tatte rattles off several statistics to prove his point. “In the last ten years, the price of soya oil has increased from Rs 25 per litre to Rs 45. But have been selling soyabean at the same price of Rs 900 per quintal since then. How do you expect us to survive?” he asks. “Why doesn’t inflation apply to our produce? Why do farmers have to starve so that the rest of the country gets cheap food?” <br /><br />This season, the Maharashtra government has accentuated their dilemma further by reducing the price at which it will procure cotton from approx. Rs 2,200 per quintal to Rs 1,700. The cost of cotton cultivation is Rs 2,200 per quintal, not including the farmer’s own labour and other expenses like bank interest. If the price falls, farmers will suffer major losses of Rs 500 per quintal, no matter how much they produce. This will lead to more distress and more suicides. <br /><br />At a public meeting in Nagpur recently, deputy chief minister R.R. Patil justified this price fall by arguing, “Last year, the state suffered Rs 1,800 crore losses due to the procurement scheme. Yet, suicides were the highest. This means the money is not going to farmers, but to agents. We will find other ways to make sure the funds reach those who need it.”<br /><br />“Reducing the price is not going to solve the glitches in the procurement system,” says Vijay Javandhia, farmers activist. “If the government is really interested in making the scheme work for farmers, they should pay the amount up front to farmers, not in installments, that too over a period of one year. And, they should stop deducting loan collections from the payments. Leave it to the banks to recover their loans.” <br /><br />The procurement scheme is in the red because the international prices of cotton have fallen. Cultivators in western countries receive huge subsidies from their government. They can afford to sell their produce at much lower prices. The Indian government could protect its producers from imports and crashing international prices by hiking the import duty on cotton. At present, it is only 10 per cent, import duty on other products like sugar (60%), rice (80%) and second hand cars (180%) are much higher. “The government is willing to protect sugar farmers and foreign car manufacturers here but not cotton farmers,” says Javandhia. <br /><br />Maharashtra’s 30 lakh cotton farmers are being told to innovate and diversify. But innovations only increase the burden of debt. And interest is high. Banks charge 12%. But interest for consumer loans are only 7% and a mere 4% to start a sugar factory. Moneylenders, now the main source of credit, charge between 60% to 120%. And, you risk losing your land.<br /><br />Farm improvements cost Sudhir Tatte his life. He spent more than two lakhs rupees sinking tube wells and installing sprinklers and drip irrigation on his orange orchards and cotton fields in Lehegaon. But nothing seemed to work. The water table had fallen. Finally, he swallowed poison and killed himself in 1998. Seven years later, his family is still burdened by debt. They have given up on agriculture and leased out the fields to others. <br /><br />Bt cotton is also being promoted as the solution. It costs around 12 times more than other seeds, and has failed to deliver results. “The dealer assured me that I would get 19 quintals per acre from Bt cotton. Not only were the seeds expensive but I also had to spray pesticide. Yet, I got the usual two or three quintals, but I spent so much more. I’m totally ruined,” said Surendra Zane, a farmer in Lehegaon.<br /><br />“What other crops can we grow?” asks Jitendra Tatte. “The prices of all crops have remained stagnant. We have even experimented with growing herbs, but there is no market to sell them. Moreover, our choice is restricted to only a few crops since we don’t have irrigation.” Only 10 per cent of Vidarbha’s farmland has irrigation. It is difficult to even promote dairy farming as an alternative since it is too dry to grow fodder for livestock.<br /><br />The chief minister is expected to announce the usual stop gap measures – loan or interest waivers, free power, compensation for families of suicide victims. But these are just band aids. The real issue of pricing and profitability has to be tackled to stop peasants from sliding down further. “Mine will be the last generation of farmers. I don’t want my son to be a farmer and suffer the way I have,” says Jitendra Tatte.<br /><br />As Vijay Javandhia puts it, “In my next life, I would rather be a cow in Europe than a farmer in India. There, they get two dollars subsidy per day to feed their cattle. Here, our farmers slog in the fields and don’t even get one dollar.”<br /><br />-------------------<br /><br /><b>A Fate Worse Than Death</b><br /><br />It seemed like a normal meagre meal for Dharmi Rathod when suddenly her husband Ramesh started vomiting. He had barely eaten anything. He was choking on the pesticide he swallowed. His friends rushed him to hospital, but he died there on 10th November 2005. Dharmi was left stunned… and without a single paisa with her. <br /><br />Her village Bongavan in Yavatmal collected money for his funeral. They helped her with food and money. One month later, Dharmi is still reeling from the shock. “I have no idea how much he owed and how many loans he had taken. All I know is that the day before he died, bank officials had come to our hut.” For the last month, the trauma has taken its toll on Dharmi. She is constantly ill and has visited the hospital thrice.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiRk3AR3yb3UjvTohTPbuX4EYWlBIF70MGH_87GT0LZNRwG8sAzp1ImxFAYj-LQBnpMeKFkaYk2dSTqISRIVZiqzR-VJhJ2DS1zJ0XbhGyVJvI-qJdcQ1XTIgeluPW9BpBi2jPxQ/s1600-h/2005-12-17+Vidarbha+suicides+pic+2+-+dharmi+rathod.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiRk3AR3yb3UjvTohTPbuX4EYWlBIF70MGH_87GT0LZNRwG8sAzp1ImxFAYj-LQBnpMeKFkaYk2dSTqISRIVZiqzR-VJhJ2DS1zJ0XbhGyVJvI-qJdcQ1XTIgeluPW9BpBi2jPxQ/s400/2005-12-17+Vidarbha+suicides+pic+2+-+dharmi+rathod.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048057128704458370" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>Dharmi Rathod with her children</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />How does Dharmi manage to look after herself and her two children? “My son works as a farm hand every weekend. From that money, we go to the market,” she says. Even when Ramesh was alive, Dharmi and Ramesh both worked as farm labour earning Rs 20 and Rs 40 per day respectively. They could not survive only by tilling their four acre farm. This season, it will yield less than a quintal of cotton. And, Dharmi doesn’t know the first thing about managing a farm. Unable to cope, she has called her relatives to help her sort out her life.<br /><br />Ramesh seems to have left Dharmi with a fate worse than death.<br /> <br /><i>Frontline,</i> Dec. 17 - 30, 2005 <a href="http://www.flonnet.com/fl2226/stories/20051230006313300.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-7453091959894189292007-03-31T16:54:00.000+05:302007-03-31T17:10:44.318+05:30Frog Weddings and Farmers’ Funerals<i>Bad rains, family problems, alcoholism, gambling – the government continues to find different reasons for the farmers’ suicides rather than address the crisis. Everyday, a few farmers kill themselves in Vidarbha, western Maharashtra. The globalisation of penury intensifies.</i><br /><br />DIONNE BUNSHA<br />in Yavatmal, Maharashtra<br /><br />Just before the monsoons, farmers in Vidarbha arrange frog weddings to welcome the rain Gods. Villagers make one male and one female frog pose in separate earthen pots for their baraat. The procession finds its way to the local temple where they are married. After the wedding, the married couple is given a send off a local water source and let loose. If they croak, it means that they have been told that the monsoon is near. (Locals believe that frogs are harbingers of rain)<br /><br />This year, the frog weddings have been followed by several funerals. Not of frogs, but of farmers.<br /><br />The Vidarbha region of north-eastern Maharashtra has seen a spate of suicides in the last month. It is close to the Andhra Pradesh border, another state where mass suicides have been reported. Many farmers disappointed by the poor rainfall and with many burdens to fulfill have cracked under pressure and killed themselves. Around 45 suicides have been reported since June but the chief minister’s office has awarded compensation to only 8 so far. Almost everyday, a few more farmers commit suicide.<br /><br />Atmaram Shinde (55) from Pada village in Yavatmal hoped that this monsoon would help him wipe away his accumulated debts. He sowed his field on time. But the seeds dried up - there was no rain. He planted a second round of seeds. But the monsoon did not arrive. The Rs 22,000 he borrowed to spend on seeds and fertiliser went down the drain. On June 26th, Atmaram killed himself by swallowing the deadly pesticide, endosulphan. <br /><br />“He was very disturbed. For the last two years, the crop had failed. Loans had piled up. We have to get our daughters married,” said his wife, Nirmala. She hasn’t lost hope. She recently borrowed another Rs 4,000 from a local moneylender to sow the field for the third time. But the rains haven’t yet arrived.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZLhShSn1Ma0fMOLfOAmvIYEJg6tAFXYVKNT2l5gbp8-9NEMGrdrxW4reioWLR4yOwgVlXHwjpc4rWYSUmozrOhrh5ca-n8D0D-0wJu_ff8HiQUEnVhxqoI0hsxiLJs84-j26eXQ/s1600-h/2004-07-31+farmers+suicides+pic.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZLhShSn1Ma0fMOLfOAmvIYEJg6tAFXYVKNT2l5gbp8-9NEMGrdrxW4reioWLR4yOwgVlXHwjpc4rWYSUmozrOhrh5ca-n8D0D-0wJu_ff8HiQUEnVhxqoI0hsxiLJs84-j26eXQ/s400/2004-07-31+farmers+suicides+pic.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048050248166850114" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> Jitru Kannake's family at 13th day ceremony after his death. He committed suicide on July 4</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Chief minister Sushilkumar Shinde visited Vidarbha. Damage control just before the Prime minister’s visit, which he later cancelled. Shinde said that farmers should have no problem getting loans since the government has ordered banks to convert short term loans to long term loans. The CM also instructed district administrations to prepare for the drought situation by starting employment works and providing for drinking water and food grains supply. However, there has been no mention of compensation for crop loss.<br /><br />But compensation is not a permanent solution. Mass suicides associated with the agricultural crisis have been reported in Vidarbha since 1996. This cotton belt is close to the Andhra Pradesh border, another state where serial suicides have been reported. In 1987, more than 80 suicides occurred. There were 90 suicides reported in 2001. The underlying causes that have led to such distress need to be tackled. <br /><br />Agriculture is no longer viable for most cotton farmers here. “Whatever we get at the end of the crop goes into re-paying the loans. Yet, every year, we continue to sow the fields, hoping that it will be better. What else can we do? This is the only work we know,” said Namdeo Maraskoche, a farmer from Pada village. Last year, after paying off some old debts, he was left with Rs. 7,000. Hardly enough to sustain his family. They work on other’s fields and earn a daily wage to survive. (The rates for agricultural wages are Rs.40 for men and Rs.25-30 for women, far below the government minimum wage of Rs.90 and Rs.70 respectively.)<br /><br />After economic liberalisation policies were introduced, agriculture has become unprofitable. The cost of inputs - seeds, fertilisers, pesticides - have risen dramatically. Market prices for farmers’ produce have not kept pace. Even with a good crop, they barely break even. A bad crop could spell disaster.<br /><br />This vulnerability is heightened due to the absence of sufficient rural credit. Bank interest rates for farmers are around 14%, much higher than urban consumers who pay 4% for car and home loans. Crop loans sanctioned by banks cover barely 70 % of the input costs, say district officials. Farmers claim that bank credit provide for only 15% of their needs. They rely on moneylenders-traders for the rest, who charge interest rates varying between 30% to 120% per year. That’s enough to kill any hope of a surplus.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmU7mLJJx2qqHr8y3RWtaSqmqCI7q-vhC45nhQiYvqHmMXZN4jqYUGTWa-5vOnv5k8-pys8gwmcgbfxVuBrRvma3e0Q1mOgJRNOuHi_ahPUuDHivuaxG3SfKbu7mg-jw7d30fmw/s1600-h/2004-07-31+farmers+suicides+2+map.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXmU7mLJJx2qqHr8y3RWtaSqmqCI7q-vhC45nhQiYvqHmMXZN4jqYUGTWa-5vOnv5k8-pys8gwmcgbfxVuBrRvma3e0Q1mOgJRNOuHi_ahPUuDHivuaxG3SfKbu7mg-jw7d30fmw/s400/2004-07-31+farmers+suicides+2+map.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048050810807565906" /></a><br />Vidarbha’s farmers mainly grow cotton, soybean and jowar during the kharif (monsoon) season. Most agriculture here is totally dependent on the monsoon. Only 15% of Maharashtra's gross cropped area is irrigated, as against the national average of 32.9% in 1989-90. Amravati division's share of gross cropped area under irrigation was a meagre 9%, says the divisional commissioner N. Arumugam. Government expenditure on rural infrastructure has also shrunk. Vidarbha has several irrigation projects, which haven’t yet got off the ground. Funds allocated for development of the region haven’t been utilized, says opposition leader Nitin Gadkari.<br /><br />Yields in Maharashtra, especially for cotton, are low. Farmers keep experimenting with costly new varieties of hybrid seeds in the hope of getting a better crop. Pests have become resistant to pesticide, so farmers keep increasing the doses of deadly pesticides like DDT and endosulphan, which are banned in other countries. The unregulated commercialization of agriculture has resulted in further losses for small farmers.<br /><br />Maharashtra’s agriculture minister Govindrao Adik denies that the suicides have any connection with government policy. “What can the government do if the rains fail?” he asked. “The suicides occur because of different reasons- some victims were very poor, others had drinking problems, some may have been gambling. What can we do? Are we responsible? In the past also there have been suicides. Why is the media highlighting them now?”<br /><br />Considered one of Maharashtra’s underdeveloped regions, Vidarbha has seen not only farmer’s suicides but also malnutrition deaths in its tribal areas. It has been a political battleground because the BJP-Shiv Sena has made inroads in this traditional Congress stronghold. In the recent Lok Sabha election, the Congress-Nationalist Congress Party alliance won only one of 11 seats. <br /><br />A few local politicians have also demanded separate statehood for the region. They complain that it is neglected by a state government, which doles out more to western Maharashtra, the domain of politically connected sugar barons. With the state elections in the next few months, the Congress-NDA alliance government has woken up to the suicides.<br /><br />But how much will that help Jitru Kannake’s family? A farmer from Vadavna Bazar village, Jitru killed himself on 4th July. He sowed his nine-acre farm three times hoping for rain. His debts kept mounting. The recent sowing cost him Rs 29,000. He had other outstanding loans, including one of Rs 50,000 to get his children married in May. <br /><br />“He had given last year’s entire crop to the moneylender. Still, there was Rs 20,000 more to pay him. Then, there were bank loans pending. And, he borrowed Rs 50,000 for the wedding. There seemed no hope of ever paying back,” said his son Ganesh. “Farmers never have their own money. We have to keep borrowing from somewhere.”<br /><br />Here, weddings seem to be closely followed by funerals.<br /><br /><CENTER>--------------------------------</CENTER><br /><br /><b>Living with the Legacy of Loans</b><br /><br />The minister came and went. But the bank loans remain.<br /><br />Saraswati Ambarwar’s husband, Ramdas committed suicide in January 1997. After local activists highlighted the plight of indebted farmers in Vidarbha, the then revenue minister Narayan Rane visited the area. He met Saraswati and made several promises - the government would give her Rs one lakh compensation, a waiver of all Ramdas’ bank loans, it would pay for her daughters’ education for three years and for her farm expenses for three years.<br /><br />The cheque was all she got. The bank loan has doubled from Rs. 25,000 to Rs 50,000 because interest has accumulated. Saraswati keeps getting default notices from the bank. They have also threatened to auction her house. But paying off the loan seems impossible. Saraswati barely has enough to survive..<br /><br />“After getting so many default notices, I managed to collect Rs 9,000 and partly paid back the debt. That was three years back,” said Saraswati. But the rest of the loan has accrued interest over the years. “My husband owed Rs 40,000 to a moneylender in Adilabad, Andhra Pradesh, just 50 km away. When he came to collect his money, he realised I could not pay and cancelled the loan.”<br /><br />Saraswati used the government cheque to pay for her eldest daughter’s wedding. One of her daughters slumped into a major depression after her father’s death. The other has been constantly ill. “Last year, I had to take Rs 40,000 from my brother-in-law Arun just to pay for her treatment,” she said.<br /><br />When her husband died, he left a suicide note asking Arun to look after his family. Since then, Arun helps her to cultivate the 12 acres of land that Ramdas left behind. “Whatever we get from farming is not enough. Arun helps us out when we run short. It may be better if I sell the land,” said Saraswati.<br /><br />Seven years after Ramdas’ death, the situation in Vidarbha’s countryside has not changed much. Even today, a couple of suicides are being reported everyday. There are several widows like Saraswati who are struggling with the legacy of loans that their husbands have left behind.<br /><br /><i>Frontline,</i> July 31 to August 13, 2004 <a href="http://www.hinduonnet.com/fline/fl2116/stories/20040813003003600.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-55719182565132806302007-03-31T14:32:00.000+05:302007-03-31T15:02:20.301+05:30Sugar Daddies<i>Sugarcane has fuelled the corruption of political power in some states of India – the world’s largest sugar producer. But, as <b>Dionne Bunsha</b> reveals, it’s the small farmers who pay the price.</i><br /><br />Meet Balasaheb Shinde. He’s wondering how he will abandon his children. Balasaheb is <br />a small farmer of sugarcane in Beed, Maharashtra. He’s so deep in debt that this year he and his wife will have to migrate to find work as cane cutters. His youngest son will drop out of school and go with them. But his three older children can’t stop their education. He will have to leave them alone in the village.<br /><br />‘There’s no-one to look after them. For the first time, I am leaving to work as a labourer, even though I have my own farm. It’s not profitable to grow sugarcane any longer,’ says Balasaheb. ‘The loans keep piling up. The moneylenders are demanding repayments. How will I manage?’<br /><br />Meet Gopinath Munde. His party controls the Ambejogai sugar co-operative where Balasaheb is a member. The factory hasn’t paid outstanding dues to farmers or its workers. Munde is leader of the opposition in Maharashtra, India’s largest sugar-producing state. In the previous government he was Deputy Chief Minister. The factory is situated in his constituency. Its chairperson is an associate from his political party, the right-wing Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). Munde recently set up several sugar factories nearby. His wife is the chairperson of one. He is chairperson of another. Politicians control most sugar-processing units in this state, and almost all of them are co-operatives.<br /> <br />Termed ‘the lazy man’s crop’ (because it is so easy to make money from), sugarcane farming was introduced in western Maharashtra by the pioneers of the co-operative movement during the 1950s. They were politicians who pumped huge amounts of government funds into co-operatives, developing roads and cornering a large chunk of the subsidies for irrigation. The region developed far ahead of the rest of the state.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaYwHi2rW1ETHgnqOtzGTV1H3ud9dLY1x4UP1rauhA2YB37OqUjzbSjEIYQsiScJt2OKii4OtPB0UCYEPmPuDIu_uftU6yDIBkwU4Ze_MQ1Xbq1Lp-46bFoYEvwG2Hb_HuUX3EBw/s1600-h/2003-12-01+Sugar+Daddies+pic+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaYwHi2rW1ETHgnqOtzGTV1H3ud9dLY1x4UP1rauhA2YB37OqUjzbSjEIYQsiScJt2OKii4OtPB0UCYEPmPuDIu_uftU6yDIBkwU4Ze_MQ1Xbq1Lp-46bFoYEvwG2Hb_HuUX3EBw/s400/2003-12-01+Sugar+Daddies+pic+2.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048018620027682354" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>A child joins family members cutting cane.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Politicians like Munde now control not only sugar factories, but also other co-operatives within their constituencies – banks, dairies, irrigation and education institutions. Right from the sarpanch (local representative) at the village level to the Chief Minister, the entire political network is closely linked with sugar co-operatives.<br /><br />Every link in the chain gets a piece of the pie. Sugar barons appoint their cronies or family members as chairpersons and directors. Often they manipulate government policy in their favour. The ‘loyal supporters’ lower down the line are awarded contracts and employment – patronage politics at its most efficient. For the members of the sugar co-operatives themselves barely a few scraps remain.<br /><br />In the Ambejogai co-operative they suspect that Munde would like their factory shut down. It would mean more business for the co-operatives nearby which he runs. Munde controls the economy and politics of his constituency. He prospers while the members of the Ambejogai co-operative are on the verge of starvation.<br /><br />To gain control over a co-operative means to establish a fiefdom, to capture a ‘vote bank’. Politicians from the ruling centrist alliance government control 99 per cent of Maharashtra’s sugar industry. The rival BJP is still trying to break into the syndicate.<br /><br />Corruption<br />Today, the industry is in trouble – 56 of Maharashtra’s 163 sugar mills are bankrupt, ruined by corruption and nepotism. Second and third generation politicians have squeezed out all profits, leaving the state government to bail them out. The state government contributed a 30-per-cent redeemable stake in the equity of these co-operatives, but few have repaid the equity. It also stood guarantee for the 60-percent equity taken as loans, some of which haven’t been repaid either.<br /><br />Last season 19 factories took loans to crush cane. They started production for a short while and then stopped. The aim never was to operate them – merely to take the money and run. They didn’t repay the bank or the few farmers whose cane was crushed.<br />Are the mills really broke, or have they been made so? ‘The management wants to show losses. Or else how will they make money?’ asks Ramgonda Patil, a small farmer in Kolhapur district. ‘They inflate expenses and siphon off funds. Then they keep borrowing from the banks to pay farmers. The money never reaches us. But we have to bear the burden of those loans. If run properly, the business is profitable.’<br /><br />Farmers get a very small part of the revenue. Sugar sells at Rs12 ($0.26) per kilo on the domestic market and Rs10 ($0.21) internationally. But farmers get only Rs6.25 ($0.14) or less.<br /><br />‘The co-operatives are run by those who have no stake in it at all. It should not be the side-business of politicians,’ says Madhav Godbole, a former bureaucrat who has suggested stopping government involvement in this sector.<br /> <br />But who’s listening? So far, a bankrupt state government has shelled out Rs65 million ($1.41 million) to pay off the co-operatives’ bad debts. There’s another Rs4,000 million ($86.96 million) in guarantees yet to be paid.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhph4z7HdcABD0zJAMD65AhSqt2PABxMIimJnWAezeJcpUt8XxJwm-A7Dd9ak-fgAgDmwpAT4N9HsaUSHnJc70_xySrlraMBtDcnu12yECQ6wWkdKzkmQzWvzKiabkwLhxMzOJkZw/s1600-h/2003-12-01+Sugar+Daddies+pic+3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhph4z7HdcABD0zJAMD65AhSqt2PABxMIimJnWAezeJcpUt8XxJwm-A7Dd9ak-fgAgDmwpAT4N9HsaUSHnJc70_xySrlraMBtDcnu12yECQ6wWkdKzkmQzWvzKiabkwLhxMzOJkZw/s400/2003-12-01+Sugar+Daddies+pic+3.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048016073112075794" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>The long wait for bullock carts delivering to the Ambejogai sugar<br />mill</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Farmers have also felt the blow. ‘The co-operative is ours. But we have no say in the way it is run,’ says Ramgonda Patil. ‘Yes, we have elected the directors. But what choice do we have? They use money and muscle power during the elections.’ Any attempts to challenge their authority are nipped in the bud. ‘If anyone dares to ask a question at the cooperative meetings, he is taken out by their thugs. The directors of the factory run their own goonda raj (gangster rule) here.’<br /><br />Cane growers are being squeezed from both ends. Sugarcane prices offered by factories have fallen by around 25 per cent in the past five years. Around a third of factories haven’t even paid farmers the Indian Government’s minimum price of Rs695 ($15.1) per tonne. In the season that started in October, industry experts estimate that only five per cent of the factories will be able to pay farmers the minimum price. And even this minimum price is not sufficient to meet farmers’ expenses.<br /><br />Production costs have risen by around two-thirds in the last five years. There have been huge hikes in power, irrigation and other charges due to economic liberalization. ‘Every year our debts rise by another Rs10-15,000 ($217- 326). Cane prices are not enough to recover our costs. Many factories don’t pay in time. So interest on our bank loans also keeps piling up,’ says Ramgonda. At the end of the 18-month crop, a farmer’s net income is approximately Rs5,000 ($109) per acre – that’s just Rs278 ($6) a month.<br /><br />Drowning in debt, many small farmers have had to sell part of their land. The moneylenders are raking it in. They charge farmers interest at rates anywhere between 35 and 60 per cent. If the farmer can’t pay, they just take over the land. Earlier, when government and co-operative banks came here, moneylenders lost their hold over small peasants. Now they are back with a vengeance.<br /><br />Why not shift to another crop? Many have switched to soya beans. But prices of soya too have crashed by a half in the last year. ‘What else can we grow? We have to grow cash crops to get money to pay things like medical bills, school fees. It’s also easier to get a bank loan if you grow sugarcane. Until now it was considered a stable crop,’ says Ramgonda. But this season a huge pest attack has destroyed half the crop. Farmers’ incomes are even more fragile.<br /><br />Neglect<br /><br />Peasants in other parts of Maharashtra still protest about being the neglected stepchildren. Their complaints are not unjustified. For example, although sugarcane is grown on only four per cent of Maharashtra’s total cropped area, 60 per cent of irrigated water goes to this crop alone. Bank credit, dairies and other facilities are far more accessible here than in the rest of rural Maharashtra.<br /><br />It’s from these neglected areas in central Maharashtra that workers migrate to the lush sugarcane belt during the six month harvesting season. Contractors hired by the factory bring them in groups. Some factories haven’t paid contractors’ bills, so these migrants haven’t got their full wages either. Their exploitation is double-edged – both by the factories and by the contractors.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5bg7U3kKHxaZFTcm9FdM97qZLQ1KedUfOlYwYn42CIF2-DaAk9UpGbFFHcodYfII2Tn5AFwQ7QTOtpbRI5wJYVGAL-AqNa8xxXdcj7SH2oF-5XcUYDP8aodySvmXrWJMw5TuUEA/s1600-h/2003-12-01+Sugar+Daddies+pic+4.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5bg7U3kKHxaZFTcm9FdM97qZLQ1KedUfOlYwYn42CIF2-DaAk9UpGbFFHcodYfII2Tn5AFwQ7QTOtpbRI5wJYVGAL-AqNa8xxXdcj7SH2oF-5XcUYDP8aodySvmXrWJMw5TuUEA/s400/2003-12-01+Sugar+Daddies+pic+4.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048017091019324962" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>migrant labourers camp out in the plantations</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Many, like Shivaji, barely get a few hours’ sleep during the cutting season. Yet, after labouring round the clock, Shivaji may not be able to work off the advance he took from the contractor. Before leaving their village in Beed, around 200 kilometres away from the factory, the contractor gave his family Rs20,000 ($435). This is offset against the amount of sugarcane they cut. Like most migrants, Shivaji may return to his village with a debt to repay. ‘If, at the end of the season, we haven’t cut enough cane to offset the advance given to us, we have to pay back the rest. The interest rate is 60 per cent per year,’ he says.<br /><br />Trapped in a cycle of loans, workers keep coming back to the sugar factories every year. The need for a lump-sum advance for consumption, to marry their children or pay medical bills, makes workers approach the contractor. Families repay the advances by cutting between one to two tonnes of cane per day, at the rate of Rs100-115 ($2.5) per tonne for bullock-cart owners and Rs65 ($1.41) for tractor workers. Often workers are given less, as their unpaid loans are offset against this advance.<br /><br />In fact Uttam Siserao, a landless labourer from Parbhani, worked for free in the 2001-02 season. He explained: ‘My wife was ill last year and could not work. We had taken Rs10,000 ($217) from the contractor. I worked off Rs5,000 ($107) and the other half was due. After that, she passed away. This year I am repaying her advance.’<br />Most workers use up their advances in the village itself and buy their daily rations by selling the sugarcane leaves as fodder. They leave with nothing and return home still empty-handed.<br /><br />Ironically, while millions of sugarcane farmers and workers are starving, the warehouses are overflowing with sugar. Overproduction has resulted in swelling stocks. Factories are desperate to sell them off. To offload stocks, the Government has offered an export subsidy – paying producers to get rid of their sugar. But no-one seems bothered whether the farmers or workers will get a share of the profits.<br /><br />Shetgonda Patil, a farmer from Kolhapur district, puts it eloquently: ‘We have shares in the factory. We grow the cane. But we don’t get to taste any sugar – not even a pinch.’<br /><br /><i>New Internationalist</i> December 2003 <a href="http://www.newint.org/issue363/daddies.htm"> Available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-84064800707941351382007-03-31T13:53:00.000+05:302007-03-31T14:00:59.972+05:30The Hutatma Model<i>Corruption, mismanagement, political fiefdoms – these are the words usually associated with sugar co-operatives in Maharashtra. Here’s one that’s different.</i><br /><br />Dionne Bunsha<br />In Walva, Maharashtra.<br /><br />It’s Sunday afternoon. Most people are enjoying their siesta. But, inside the Hutatma Kisan Ahir sugar factory, farmers from 15 villages have travelled here to talk business. There’s lively discussion and debate. The weekly meeting of the sugar co-operative’s Board of Directors is underway. Sugarcane farmers themselves manage India’s most efficient sugar factory in Walva, Sangli district. Who says you need a fancy MBA to run a successful company? You don’t even have to pass high school.<br /><br />The Hutatma Kisan Ahir Sugar co-operative is different from other sugar co-operatives in Maharashtra. No politician controls its functioning. Farmers take all the decisions collectively. The co-operative’s founder, Naganath Nayakawadi, a freedom fighter and social activist, guides the co-operative’s progress.<br /><br />Each of the 15 villages, where the co-operative’s members live, collectively selects a director to represent them. Moreover, one Dalit, two women and one poor candidate also have to be appointed directors. All members decide together on major issues like cane prices, purchases etc. Weekly board meetings have an open door policy. Any member can attend and vote. “In all other sugar factories, the management takes decisions behind closed doors. Only here, the system is transparent. Even you can walk in and question us,” says Hindurao Patil, a small farmer and former director of the co-operative.<br /><br />The ‘Hutatma model’ has reaped rich dividends. For the past 18 years, the factory has received national awards for being the most technically efficient mill. Its recovery rate (amount of sugar recovered from the cane) is the highest in India. The co-operative pays farmers the highest price for cane in Maharashtra. And, payments are prompt. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiDNqW6nVdfoGIaCo5coYJqhwPiwxPVeQQx5T-2WxmAKMQkyyPjFmD4vgV_iAZ_5WggAMN8aHYhHgz308DqaYkqKSFQ2DC8qlTiLaXp4TuKf7wEWQMcU6WkkrWCrfTG9UXA_-B9Q/s1600-h/2003-09-13+hutatma+pic+-+weekly+meeting+of+the+board+of+directors.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiDNqW6nVdfoGIaCo5coYJqhwPiwxPVeQQx5T-2WxmAKMQkyyPjFmD4vgV_iAZ_5WggAMN8aHYhHgz308DqaYkqKSFQ2DC8qlTiLaXp4TuKf7wEWQMcU6WkkrWCrfTG9UXA_-B9Q/s400/2003-09-13+hutatma+pic+-+weekly+meeting+of+the+board+of+directors.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048002342101630434" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B> The weekly meeting of the Board of Directors of the Hutatma Kisar Ahir Sugar Cooperative at the factory</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />The co-operative makes sure that its prosperity trickles down to the poorest. Each village has a job quota. Members decide who should get factory jobs. At village meetings, people identify the poorest families for employment. More than one-third of factory workers are Dalits. To employ those most in need of work, the factory announced a job scheme for the poorest. “Those who agree to work as cane cutters for two years are given permanent employment after that. Only the poorest are willing to cut cane. That’s how we identified the most needy families,” said Shahaji Bansode, a factory worker. More than 100 people got jobs under this scheme. Factory workers are given free housing, a large bonus and quarter of the surplus generated.<br /><br />Even migrant sugarcane cutters, who work here during the six-month cane-crushing season, get a 25% share of the surplus. These workers travel from the drought-prone Marathwada region in central Maharashtra to work in sugar fields in the western part of the state. The Hutatma co-operative is the only one to have built houses for cane cutters and a school for their children. Labourers also get free medical treatment.<br /><br />Yet, the co-operative has money to spare for rural development. Part of its surplus goes towards funding an educational trust, which runs balwadis (pre-primary schools), a high school, a college and a girls hostel. The education and hostel is free. “It’s run so that even the poorest get the opportunity to be educated,” said a director. Many villages have paved roads thanks to the co-operative’s investment in rural infrastructure. Co-operative dairies and banks have also sprouted in the area. The factory is also funding lift irrigation schemes for farmers in the area.<br /><br />The co-operative doesn’t stop at only looking after its own. It also supports social causes. After the Latur earthquake, the co-operative adopted 108 destitute children and educated them in its school. A part of the surplus is given every year to those displaced by the nearby Warna, Urmodi and Koyna dams. Nayakawadi, popularly known as ‘Annasaheb’, has made sure that the co-operative retains its social conscience. “This factory is named after one of our comrades who was killed by the police in the Quit India movement. Our work today is a continuation of people’s struggle for their rights. The movement started in 1942 when we ran a parallel government against the British Raj. One person can’t do anything. People have to work together,” he says.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi21REFNIPkFB1Onr8jf6hmKOiHKYdm_G4lg4hvvuJCtV7Aqv7qoyShfil65ixPTSbA3sdN6Cohsmw2ch6iKKlcFLqWHdRtZtuFTE9XnLPhh-sYRSgD1LfEscLMBjF3bT3-9dm-PA/s1600-h/2003-09-13+hutatma+pic+-+naganath+nayakwadi.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi21REFNIPkFB1Onr8jf6hmKOiHKYdm_G4lg4hvvuJCtV7Aqv7qoyShfil65ixPTSbA3sdN6Cohsmw2ch6iKKlcFLqWHdRtZtuFTE9XnLPhh-sYRSgD1LfEscLMBjF3bT3-9dm-PA/s400/2003-09-13+hutatma+pic+-+naganath+nayakwadi.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048002763008425458" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>Naganath Nayakawadi, the freedom fighter who founded the sugar cooperative</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Women hold top posts in the present Board of Directors. Nayakawadi ensured that women were appointed chairperson and vice-chairperson. They are daughters and wives of Anna’s old friends. What power they actually have remains under doubt. Finally, whatever Nayakawadi advises is law. He enjoys enormous respect, and lords over a socialist fiefdom of sorts. “They are new, but they will learn,” he says about the women chairpersons. “It is very important to set such examples for others. And, it also boosts women’s self-esteem.” In the past, the co-operative has had a Dalit, Jain and even Muslim chairperson. Each gets their turn. No one can hold a post for more than one five-year term. The board changes completely every five years.<br /><br />Directors are mainly medium or large farmers. Few small farmers actually get chosen. “Poor people can’t spare the time to go for meetings. We are too busy just working for our survival everyday. Maybe if they gave directors a salary, it would be possible,” said a marginal farmer. “But the directors we elect make sure that everyone benefits from the co-operative.”<br /><br />Haven’t political parties tried to gain control over this co-operative? “They know there is no scope for corruption here. So they leave us alone. They don’t get involved. They loot their own factories,” said Yashwant Babar, a former director of the Hutatma co-op. “All of us support different political parties. But when we come for a meeting, we leave our politics outside the door. It should not interfere with issues of our livelihood.” Sound logic that has built a strong business.<br /><br />The Hutatma model may baffle management gurus who believe that only men in suits are qualified to manage corporations. The co-operative’s 8,000 members have crafted a different brand of business. They know what’s best for them. Their final aim is prosperity, not profit. <br /><br /><i>Frontline,</i> September 13 - 26, 2003 <a href="http://www.hinduonnet.com/fline/fl2019/stories/20030926002304000.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-15088485326103545132007-03-31T13:31:00.000+05:302007-03-31T13:50:42.615+05:30Machines that Mow down Migrants<i>The arrival of imported cane-harvesting machines in sugarcane fields may push migrant cane cutters deeper in bondage.</i><br /><br />DIONNE BUNSHA<br /><br /><i>“This town rips the bones from your back<br />Its a death trap, its a suicide rap<br />We gotta get out while we’re young<br />‘Cause tramps like us, baby, we were born to run.”</i><br />-- Bruce Springsteen, Born to Run.<br /><br /><br />Bleary-eyed, Shivaji Randale wakes up in the biting cold at 3 a.m. and makes his way to the sugarcane fields in Baramati along with his toli (group of around 10 workers). He has been able to snatch only two hours of sleep. But sleep doesn’t matter when there’s a loan to be worked off. <br /><br />By afternoon, he loads his bullock cart with the cane his family has cut, and leaves for the crushing factory. There, he waits in queue until late at night, or even the next day. Yet, after labouring round the clock, Shivaji may not be able to work off the advance he has taken from the contractor. Before leaving their village in Beed district, around 200 km away, his family was given Rs 20,000 by the contractor, which is offset against the amount of sugarcane they cut. Like most migrant workers who travel to western Maharashtra’s sugarcane belt for work from the dry Marathwada region, Shivaji may return to his village with a debt to repay. “If, at the end of the season, we haven’t cut enough cane to offset the advance given to us, we have to pay back the rest. The rate of interest on this loan is 60 per cent per year,” he says.<br /><br />Recently, the sugar mills have made it even more difficult for migrant workers like Shivaji to shake off their bondage. Ever since the sugar co-operatives imported cane-harvesting machines last year, not only have the number of workers reduced but their working days have also dwindled. “This season, we’ve got work for only 20 days in the month. How are we supposed to pay back the contractor? We’ve travelled so far to work -- not to sit here, twiddling our thumbs,” says Shivaji, who cuts cane for the Shri Chattrapati factory in Sharad Pawar’s constituency, Baramati. This factory, along with Malegaon co-operative in the same region, is among the first to use the harvesting machines. Twelve co-operative factories have decided to purchase 25 cane-cutting machines so far.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsuKJ1_NXR_rTWUW0DX1HsgUJx0g6ZLi-q6K8D3457eWQ66GdM5xqQHwiZV1SsEhaZZvkQKCobeX23wwrnQ0Ps4Tyu2Ax8Bk7q1div98IgaUmzBAGfCKBk491c8mqdZjfnFSSYaQ/s1600-h/2002-02-02+sugarcane+pic+5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsuKJ1_NXR_rTWUW0DX1HsgUJx0g6ZLi-q6K8D3457eWQ66GdM5xqQHwiZV1SsEhaZZvkQKCobeX23wwrnQ0Ps4Tyu2Ax8Bk7q1div98IgaUmzBAGfCKBk491c8mqdZjfnFSSYaQ/s400/2002-02-02+sugarcane+pic+5.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047998811638513106" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>A family harvesting cane at a field in Kolhapur.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Sharad Pawar, who controls Maharashtra’s co-operative sugar factory syndicate, has shown a special interest in importing the machines from Germany and Australia, each costing around Rs 1.20 crores. He has even asked the central government to waive the 32 per cent import duty on the machines. Pawar and Maharashtra’s sugar barons, many of whom are Congress (I) and Nationalist Congress Party ministers, have built their fortunes on the labour of more than a million penniless migrant workers, who travel to their factories every harvesting season to cut cane. But now, the sugar lobby plans to replace these labourers with harvesting machines, each of which makes 300 to 400 workers unemployed. As the machines mow down the livelihoods of these migrants, they are also pushing them deeper into debt.<br /><br />Workdays have reduced in the factories using harvesting machines. Also, workers transporting cane to the factory on bullock carts have to wait longer in queue, for upto 36 hours, as priority is given to the cane cut by the machine. When the machines were first introduced at the Shri Chattrapati factory in January 2001, some workers, frustrated with the long delay, spontaneously held an agitation into the factory. Many were arrested and work in the factory was disrupted.<br /><br />This wasn’t the first time that labourers fought back. The powerful sugar magnates have effectively squelched many strikes demanding better pay and working conditions. Conditions of work haven’t improved for decades. Every year, after celebrating Divali, the festival of prosperity, groups of workers, leave their villages knowing they will never find it. The migrants, with their cattle and meagre belongings, are herded into trucks and taken from the arid Marathwada region to the lush sugarcane belt of western Maharashtra. In the north, workers from Nandurbar and Dhule travel to Gujarat’s sugar factories. Similarly, many workers from Karnataka cross the border into Kolhapur’s sugar fields to work.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ_i2CmlkmlXvQ8rIJAclg7N9aVQUG2X4NEIm4lVV_O2rJWmxSJbNnJ6Kx71WVqJpOHsrZCJoJboI7oUldinpQrwvmX0EVfW17f6HK7ByAPiD0u9hoHzHz1Scy2EcbUtQYGIyG_w/s1600-h/2002-02-02+sugarcane+pic+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ_i2CmlkmlXvQ8rIJAclg7N9aVQUG2X4NEIm4lVV_O2rJWmxSJbNnJ6Kx71WVqJpOHsrZCJoJboI7oUldinpQrwvmX0EVfW17f6HK7ByAPiD0u9hoHzHz1Scy2EcbUtQYGIyG_w/s400/2002-02-02+sugarcane+pic+1.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047996930442837410" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>Migrant sugarcane cutters at one of their makeshift huts.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Entire villages are transported – including barbers, shopkeepers and cobblers. Only the elderly and a few children, whose parents prefer to keep them at school, are left behind. But the education of most children is disrupted. “Which school is going to take them? They spend six months here and the rest in the village. Even our children don’t have a way out of this kind of work,” says Sultana Hanif from Parbhani, whose three daughters are with her. There are only 30 schools for migrant children in the state’s 198 sugar factories.<br /><br />The workers are of two types - bullock cart and tractor workers. While bullock cart workers cut the cane as well as transport it to the factory on their carts, the tractor workers move from village to village harvesting the cane and loading it on the tractors. For both categories, working hours blur from one day to the next. Bullock cart workers wait till dawn outside the factory in the most miserable conditions. “Just look at the state of this yard. We have to sit in the middle of this cow dung all night. They don’t even clean the place or provide basic facilities like water, a shed or even proper pathways for the bullocks,” says Ganpati Shankar Kumbar, a worker from Karnataka who has crossed the border to Kagal in Kolhapur. Tractor workers are hauled up at any time in the night to load the tractor with cane. Bonfires are the only source of light and warmth as they work at odd hours in the night.<br /><br />For these vagabond workers, there’s barely any shelter. Those with bullocks build straw huts on the outskirts of villages, with no electricity or sanitation facilities. Tractor workers pitch tents, which they shift every two or three weeks, as they move to another village for work. Some have no place to live. Like Ganpati Kumbar, who snatches a nap under his bullock cart, while waiting in queue. “What hut? This is my home,” he says, pointing to his cart.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHM3A-mMa-cuFH4uTqDIO0ocdnOvDyoIEg1ttt5X7CStY2jQQqsMRBS5J-M7Yuz-ARdG5xQ1ID3FYc60xzNtrDg3-u2KYY04Log4nWLKDP8ExqVnhBDLicqe4ddnlEZHscGqN7xQ/s1600-h/2002-02-02+sugarcane+pic+4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHM3A-mMa-cuFH4uTqDIO0ocdnOvDyoIEg1ttt5X7CStY2jQQqsMRBS5J-M7Yuz-ARdG5xQ1ID3FYc60xzNtrDg3-u2KYY04Log4nWLKDP8ExqVnhBDLicqe4ddnlEZHscGqN7xQ/s400/2002-02-02+sugarcane+pic+4.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047998158803484098" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>The harvester at work in a sugarcane field in Baramati</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />What makes them leave their homes to endure these harsh working conditions? Why do they come here, uprooting their families and disrupting their children’s education? “There’s no water in our fields. If the government irrigated our land, we wouldn’t have to come here,” says Janabai Marade from Beed, whose family owns 12 acres of land. “During a good monsoon can we grow some jowar or groundnut. After that, there is nothing. Barely a few days of agricultural work, which pays a pittance of Rs 20 per day for women,” she says. The agricultural crisis in the countryside has made agriculture unviable for several farmers like her. Agricultural growth (in terms of production and income) decelerated in the ‘90s. Investment in rural infrastructure like irrigation has dropped. The removal of subsidies has increased input prices, while produce prices have fallen after liberalisation. Farmers’ profitability has taken a tumble, sharpening indebtedness.<br /><br />Trapped in a cycle of loans, workers keep coming back to the sugar factories every year. The need of a lumpsum advance for consumption, to marry their children or pay medical bills, makes workers approach the contractor. Families repay the advances by cutting between one to two tonnes of cane per day, at the rate of around Rs 100-115 per tonne for bullock cart owners and Rs 65 per tonne for tractor workers. Bullock cart workers are paid advances between Rs 15,000 to Rs 25,000 per family, while tractor workers’ families are given Rs 10,000 to Rs 15,000. Often, workers are given less, as their unpaid loans are offset against this advance.<br /><br />In fact, Uttam Siserao, a landless labourer from Parbhani, is working for free this season. While waiting for work in a shed outside the Dutta sugar cooperative factory in Kolhapur for three days, he explains, “My wife was ill last year, and could not work. We had taken Rs 10,000 from the contractor. I worked off Rs 5,000 and the other half was due. After that, she passed away. This year, I am repaying her advance.” Most workers use up their advances in the village itself, and buy their daily rations by selling the sugarcane leaves as fodder for Rs 20-25. “We leave with nothing and also return home empty-handed. The advance we took was used up before we got here. When we return to the village, its back to borrowing and agricultural work,” says Sarubai Auchar who has migrated from Parbhani to Kolhapur.<br /><br />It’s not surprising that these migrants work under the most insecure conditions with minimal legal protection. Their employers also run the government. Moreover, since workers are scattered in different places, they aren’t a strong vote bank. “Sugar is the most organised industry, but this sector has the most unorganised workers,” says Kumar Shiralkar, leader of the Sugarcane Transporters and Workers Union. <br /><br />Although the factory pays their advances through the contractor, it refuses to acknowledge them as workers. “They should be given the same benefits and status as those working inside the sugar factory,” says Shiralkar. No labour laws are implemented to protect their rights although some like the Minimum Wages Act, Contract Labour Act , Moneylending Act and Workmens Compensation Act are applicable.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRhSN-P7ALcDd2SzvZZiD5jcMjFCix6BIq0MO5XTX4owFpnhhmpCcnA6s0ISE5HdJFrwnGbDv43p9JiyGrfngXOlG-Rjnijv8kpt20XcH1PIcRNv_wnxlNweY6eWua6BXBKKaicg/s1600-h/2002-02-02+sugarcane+pic+3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRhSN-P7ALcDd2SzvZZiD5jcMjFCix6BIq0MO5XTX4owFpnhhmpCcnA6s0ISE5HdJFrwnGbDv43p9JiyGrfngXOlG-Rjnijv8kpt20XcH1PIcRNv_wnxlNweY6eWua6BXBKKaicg/s400/2002-02-02+sugarcane+pic+3.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047997527443291570" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>Cane cutters at a farm loading a truck</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Considering the distinct nature of their work, the union is demanding the setting up of a mathadi board where every worker can register and which will regulate their working conditions. However, the sugar syndicate is against this idea. “Since our factories work for only six months in a year, we would like to keep the relationship with workers contractual. Anyway, the whole labour issue will die in the course of time as harvesting machines come in. If all factories get the machines, will save us Rs 691 million every year - Rs 12 per tonne of cane,” says Prakash Naiknavare, managing director of the Maharashtra Co-op Sugar Factories Federation. At present, the wages are revised every three years by the sugar cartel.<br /><br />Although India is the world’s largest producer of sugar and the industry is growing at 8.5 per cent every year, this booming industry does not even provide its workers with basic facilities or share the profits with the workers. Almost all Maharashtra’s 192 sugar co-operatives were the platform on which Congress ministers built their fiefdoms. The BJP is also trying to get in on the act by setting up private sugar factories. <br /><br />Local farmers and economies in western Maharashtra benefited from the infrastructure development that accompanied the establishment of a factory. For instance, although sugarcane constitutes only three per cent of the area under cultivation in Maharashtra, it corners 60 per cent of the state’s irrigation. Districts in Marathwada, where the migrants come from, have irrigation cover as low as six per cent. On the whole Maharashtra’s has a low irrigation cover of 15 per cent, way below the national average of 38 per cent. But irrigation facilities for sugarcane are abundant . Patronage politics and vote banks developed in the sugarcane belt. But, the migrants aren’t a vote bank. So its convenient to keep them tied to the contractors for generations. “Politicians have risen by climbing on the backs of these bonded workers,” says Shiralkar.<br /><br />Krishna Pawar, a worker who has migrated within Kolhapur district puts it eloquently, “We cut the cane, but we don’t get to taste any sugar, not even a pinch.”<br /><br /><i>Frontline,</i> Feb 02 – 15, 2002 <a href="http://www.hinduonnet.com/fline/fl1903/19031020.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-72700960968095182142007-03-31T12:28:00.000+05:302007-03-31T13:30:25.218+05:30Drowning Cotton’s Lifebuoy<i>The Maharashtra government has refused to pay the full cotton procurement price immediately. This has left farmers at the mercy of trader-moneylenders. In a region where farmers suicides are frequent, the state is withdrawing support, pushing farmers closer to the edge.</i><br /><br />DIONNE BUNSHA<br />in Vidarbha, Maharashtra<br /><br />This season, Nirmala Nehare was thrown to the wolves. Not only did the climate fail Nirmala, a cotton farmer in Wardha, but the state government has also let her down. She was compelled to sell her meagre crop at lower prices to trader-moneylenders because the state refuses to pay farmers the full amount immediately while procuring cotton. This has meant further losses for peasants like Nirmala, already on the brink of bankruptcy.<br /><br />After insufficient rain and a vicious pest attack on her crop, Nirmala’s family got only eight quintals of cotton, a fourth of what they normally harvest from their seven acres. They decided to give it to the moneylender at a lower price - Rs 1,800 per quintal- instead of selling it to the cotton federation at Rs 2,175. “Our hands are tied. We had to sell it to the trader. The government would pay in four instalments. Right now, they give only Rs 1,400 per quintal, while the rest of the Rs 2,175 will be paid next August. We can’t wait. Interest keeps accumulating at Rs 1,000 every month for the Rs 10,000 we borrowed,” says Nirmala from Dhamangaon village in Wardha.<br /><br />Although she couldn’t sell her crop to the Maharashtra Cotton Federation this year, Nirmala still feels that the Monopoly Cotton Procurement Scheme (MCPS) offers her some security. “Without it, we would be completely at the mercy of the middlemen. They would lower the prices even further. At least now, they cannot offer much less than the state’s guaranteed price,” she says.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFhqvoKXnYN7LGqYRSb-xW77nz15cwLoWEqElVgwz8xsi2Lsl23MyaHo4K9yeN9hmb3-hmOIvmSSjiF2vZaCLCtQYNkG9tJYX5dDBjTa3QgLMbxAsD5cb0IOCTfOoMkZtVH8QG_g/s1600-h/2002-01-19+cotton+proc+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFhqvoKXnYN7LGqYRSb-xW77nz15cwLoWEqElVgwz8xsi2Lsl23MyaHo4K9yeN9hmb3-hmOIvmSSjiF2vZaCLCtQYNkG9tJYX5dDBjTa3QgLMbxAsD5cb0IOCTfOoMkZtVH8QG_g/s400/2002-01-19+cotton+proc+2.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047989427134971250" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>At a procurement centre at Wardha</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Maharashtra’s unique MCPS still seems to be serving its purpose -- to protect cotton farmers from being cheated by traders and to ensure them a fair price for their crop by eliminating middlemen. This despite the state’s failure to pay farmers properly this year due to financial problems. Started in 1972, the scheme had been making profits and distributing 75 per cent of this surplus to cotton farmers until 1995. Then, international cotton prices started crashing and the scheme has run into accumulated losses of Rs 2,795 crores. Interest on this liability is Rs 1.35 crore per day. This year, for the first time, the RBI delayed sanctioning the full amount of the Rs 1,700 crore loan required by the state cotton federation to procure this year’s harvest. So far, it has sanctioned only Rs 900 crore.<br /><br />A broke Democratic Front government said it would pay only 80 per cent of the central government’s support price for cotton (which is approximately Rs 1,875 per quintal, but depends on the quality of cotton). The balance of the price guaranteed by the state (averaging Rs 2,175 per quintal) is to be paid in three instalments. The opposition was quick to take advantage. It created a ruckus for several days during the assembly session held last month in Nagpur, the heart of Maharashtra’s cotton-growing Vidarbha region. Allying with Shetkari Sanghatana leader Sharad Joshi, who led a rail roko agitation, the BJP demanded that farmers be paid the full support price and the balance of the state guaranteed price later. Ironically, at various points in time, both the free-market proponent Joshi and the trader-funded BJP have demanded the scrapping of the scheme. The Democratic Front government caved in and offered a meek 90 per cent, which Joshi easily relented to and withdrew his agitation.<br /><br />Ever since it was introduced, a motley group of traders, bureaucrats, politicians and activists have been demanding the death of Maharashtra’s MCPS, the only one of its kind in the country. But 30 years later, the scheme is still surviving. While many would attribute that to ‘vote bank’ politics, the simple fact remains that the scheme is a major reason why Maharashtra’s 30 lakh cotton farmers have managed to stay afloat.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCv7noQ6S_vlv3cvNkYgvbjwuZWMkbCl3F4UddzD38r_K7wwQqwivVBu7ekWWWSVT_v99vjZrz4ARMysoBM8DnN7PxHDGSkx2z5Y5ZLA0DHADWOnpfjnTdu6fIAL__r1FdRjS6wQ/s1600-h/2002-01-19+cotton+proc+3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCv7noQ6S_vlv3cvNkYgvbjwuZWMkbCl3F4UddzD38r_K7wwQqwivVBu7ekWWWSVT_v99vjZrz4ARMysoBM8DnN7PxHDGSkx2z5Y5ZLA0DHADWOnpfjnTdu6fIAL__r1FdRjS6wQ/s400/2002-01-19+cotton+proc+3.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047990595366075778" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>At a cotton procurement centre in Wardha. Lakshmanrao Chaudhury (pictured), a small cotton farmer of Waipad village, who works here as a security guard, has not been able to sell his own produce at the centre because he is already in debt to the moneylender</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />With globalisation heightening the agricultural crisis in the country, farmers’ profitability has been severely eroded. Production costs have multiplied in the last decade due to cuts in input subsidies. Rural credit and infrastructure investment has shrunk. Bank loans account for only 11.7 per cent of agricultural credit, leaving cultivators at the mercy of moneylenders. Farmers have also been squeezed by the fall in market prices due to imports and price collapses in the international commodity markets. “If the procurement scheme was scrapped, we would all sink. The traders would have a monopoly, like they do for all other crops,” says Rajendra Lone from Jamta village in Wardha. “This year, many people have had to sell to traders because it has been a bad harvest and the government is not paying the full amount immediately. Also, some don’t want the government to deduct their bank loans from the payment. They need money in hand. Otherwise, how will they run their homes?” he says. <br /><br />Cotton farmers, not only in Maharashtra but also in AP and Punjab, have been worst hit by the farm crisis. In 1997-98, a severe pest attack destroyed the crop in Vidarbha, leading to a spate of more than 80 suicides. Several thousands of suicides have been reported in AP and Punjab’s cotton belts as well. The suicides continue. A local newspaper reported 35 suicides in Vidarbha from April to November 2001. Even though many left suicide notes and died by swallowing pesticide or jumping into a well, the government still tries hard to cover up the cause of the deaths citing personal or psychological problems. “All of us - rich and poor farmers alike- are in poverty, facing the same hardships. It’s just that some choose to end their misery by taking poison. Even large landowners are trying to sell off their land. But there are no takers,” says Punjaram More from Mahakal village in Wardha. <br /><br />Explaining his declining profitability, Rajendra Lone says production costs for his 15-acre plot were Rs 5,000 per acre. But banks provide only Rs 1,500 per acre as crop loans. The rest of the cost has to be met by borrowing from moneylenders at exorbitant rates of interest varying from 60 to 120 per cent per year. “How are we to manage? Costs keep rising, but the prices have fallen by half for most crops. At least cotton prices offered by the government have been steady over the last five years,” he says.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK8G0gzhS8E17kBqVGO9iSgw6PHSrhlBOScOpbEtHLFSbJyDOYkM_KIX6KMOmG-LS-XU3w5vxpzAC7SWOjs7k-iPa4b7hbJIvKVl9jzWi4IeEr0SQFSu0cKL7bXnoYPlLHV729Uw/s1600-h/2002-01-19+cotton+proc+4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK8G0gzhS8E17kBqVGO9iSgw6PHSrhlBOScOpbEtHLFSbJyDOYkM_KIX6KMOmG-LS-XU3w5vxpzAC7SWOjs7k-iPa4b7hbJIvKVl9jzWi4IeEr0SQFSu0cKL7bXnoYPlLHV729Uw/s400/2002-01-19+cotton+proc+4.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047991196661497234" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>At the Wardha procurement centre, cotton being weighed</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />Although the scheme is the only assurance farmers have of a fair price, there are many who think it should be scrapped. Some arguments are purely financial -- to contain losses. “Maharashtra’s guaranteed price is Rs 425 above the central support price. Moreover, since international prices have fallen by half since 1995, we are now selling the procured cotton at around Rs 1,500 per quintal, a 25 per cent loss,” says Sunil Porwal, chairperson of the Maharashtra State Co-operative Cotton Growers’ Marketing Federation, the government agency that procures the cotton. He feels that losses would be minimised if the monopoly element of the scheme was withdrawn and the state’s guaranteed price was reduced to central support price levels.<br /><br />However, proponents of the scheme like secretary of the Peasants and Workers Party, N.D. Patil, argues that the government cannot abandon its responsibility to farmers. “If the monopoly element was removed, the losses would increase. Traders would buy only the best quality cotton in the market, leaving the rest to the government, while the overheads of running the federation would continue. This is an indirect tactic to close down the scheme. Since no political party has the courage to do it outright, they will just make its implementation impossible,” he says. The scheme is the only form of social security for the state’s cotton farmers who produce 20 per cent of India’s cotton, Patil asserts. “Around 97 per cent of cotton in the state is dryland cotton. Totally dependent on nature, cultivation is a gamble for them. This is their only protection,” he says.<br /><br />Free market advocates like Sharad Joshi of the Shetkari Sanghatana have been demanding the removal of the scheme since he “opposes any restrictions on the trade of agricultural commodities”. Mr Joshi believes, “The scheme has been unable to secure for Maharashtra’s farmers prices that compare favourably with those obtained in the free markets in neighbouring AP, MP and Gujarat.” However, Mr Porwal points out that since Maharashtra’s guaranteed price is much higher than those in other states, many traders cross state borders to sell cotton in Maharashtra. Explaining the change in his stand during his protests last month, Joshi says, “It was against the opportunist abandonment of the scheme in times of recession.”<br /><br />The problem is not with the scheme but with India’s trade and agriculture policy, says Kisan Sanghatana leader Vijay Jawandhia. “Indian farmers have not been adequately protected as compared to those in developed countries,” he says. Domestic prices of cotton have fallen because of a low import tariff of only 5 per cent on cotton as compared to 60 per cent for sugar, which is backed by a much stronger political lobby, Jawandia points out. The textile industry lobby is also resisting any rise in import duty of cotton. “They are buying foreign cotton although there are sufficient domestic stocks, claiming that otherwise their industry will collapse. But why should millions of farmers be squeezed so that the textile industry can run smoothly?” he asks. <br /><br />Deriding the free trade argument, Jawandhia points out no such thing exists. International commodity prices have fallen because rich countries like the US, EU and Japan continue to protect their agriculture by heavy subsidies to farmers and imposing high import tariffs. For instance, Japan has a 1,000 per cent tariff on rice imports. Each farmer in the US got a subsidy of $29,000 per year in 1995, 100 times more than what an average Philippine resident earns in a year. Production subsidies account for 66 per cent of producer prices in Japan, 49 per cent in EU countries and 30 per cent in the US. Although India is allowed, under the WTO agreement, to put up import duties ranging from 100 to 300% on agricultural goods, it has chosen not to protect its farmers.<br /><br />While farmers struggle to keep their head above water, whether Indian agriculture sinks or not finally depends on what policies the government chooses to adopt. Only by turning the tide on liberalisation can the government prevent small farmers like Nirmala from being left to brave the winds alone.<br /><br /><i>Frontline,</i> Jan 19 - Feb 1, 2002 <a href="http://www.hinduonnet.com/fline/fl1902/19020430.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-28164176391484016762007-02-23T19:52:00.000+05:302007-03-31T12:26:41.754+05:30A can of boll worms<span style="font-style:italic;">Many farmers in Gujarat didn’t know they were sold pirated Bt cotton seeds. Now, the government threatens to burn their crop.</span><br /><br />DIONNE BUNSHA<br />In Gandhinagar district, Gujarat.<br /><br />Nareshbhai Patel didn’t have a clue that he was growing genetically modified (GM) Bt cotton seeds in his farm. “The shop keeper suggested that I try this new seed variety called Navbharat 151. It was only later that I heard about the seeds on the TV when the news broke that the government was threatening to burn the fields where Navbharat 151 seeds were sown,” says this farmer from Vadodara Lath village in Gandhinagar district.<br /><br />The government of India’s Genetic Engineering Approval Committee (GEAC) had no clue either. Navbharat 151 has been sold illegally in parts of Gujarat, Andhra Pradesh and Maharashtra for the past three years. The GEAC was caught with its pants down when the Maharashtra Hybrid Seeds Company (MAHYCO), which has applied for a licence to market Bt cotton seeds in India, complained that Navbharat was illegally selling GM seeds.<br /><br />Bt stands for Bacillus thuringiensis, a soil bacterium that has been used as a pesticide to protect crops against three pests: tobacco budworm, cotton bollworm and pink bollworm. Bt is not effective against a number of other pests like boll weevil or white fly. Genetic scientists spliced a protein from Bt into cotton, creating a new seed called Bt cotton. This protein is selectively toxic to certain insects. <br />The genetically modified Bt seed was created to provide cotton plants with built-in protection against pests without using synthetic pesticides. Bt seeds are also called transgenic seeds because an alien gene has been introduced into a naturally occurring seed variety. Besides cotton, Bt has also been introduced into other crops like corn, cotton and potato.<br /><br />Its failure to monitor the sale of GM seeds may cost hundreds of farmers dear, if it intends to carry out its threat. The Gujarat government, unwilling to pay compensation or antagonise the state’s farmers, has assured farmers that their fields will not be torched. Moreover, most farmers have already harvested the crop and are now clearing the fields for the Rabi potato crop.<br /><br />The Navbharat fiasco could be considered a landmark case on several fronts. Most importantly because it has highlighted the gaps in government regulation of this new technology. However, in the rush to point fingers and nail a culprit, the larger questions about whether India needs GM seeds and its long-term implications on Indian agriculture, have been obscured.<br /><br />Farmers seem relieved to have found a new seed that will rid their crop of the dreaded bollworm. Gujarat’s kharif season saw the worst pest attack in recent times. While the hybrid cotton crop was damaged, the Bt fields flourished. “The yield is 50 per cent more with Navbharat 151. Although I sprayed for pests other than the bollworm, I still saved around Rs. 5,000 per acre on pesticide,” said Karamsibhai Ladabhai Patel from Vadodara Lath village, who tried out the new seeds on an acre of his land.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWAJd2ikdaERsf3_XX2DXtpnAFGnlPKvA-jQiqJmJJjh2NSRczb4Hx5wRi0tpP2cc57VdXohFs-E6EOI9HUA1X_UislweUYQCoXx6nm_gOe7o7mzQCzlTjYKA8UCXwqcZ5eUvuQw/s1600-h/2001-11-24+Bt+Cotton.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWAJd2ikdaERsf3_XX2DXtpnAFGnlPKvA-jQiqJmJJjh2NSRczb4Hx5wRi0tpP2cc57VdXohFs-E6EOI9HUA1X_UislweUYQCoXx6nm_gOe7o7mzQCzlTjYKA8UCXwqcZ5eUvuQw/s400/2001-11-24+Bt+Cotton.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034737633724020194" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>Karamsibhai Ladabhai Patel and Naresh Patel, cotton farmers from Gandhinagar district, where Navbharat-151 Bt cotton seeds were sown</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><FONT SIZE="-2"><b><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT></-2></B><br />“These seeds are more expensive. One bag costs Rs 550 as compared to Rs 300 for hybrid cotton seeds. But we save more on pesticide costs,” says Patel. He adds that the Bt cotton crop uses more fertiliser and does not protect the plant from other pests, for which pesticide is still necessary. When asked about the environmental consequences of using the seeds, Patel says, “We know that this cotton plant has poison. The worm dies within minutes of biting the leaf. But none of the birds or squirrels feeding on the crop have died. We haven’t been told how it will harm us.”<br /><br />But the farmer’s excitement may be short-lived. Explaining the dangers associated with Bt cotton, Dr Ramesh Agarwal, a genetic expert at the Centre for Cellular and Molecular Biology, Hyderabad, says, “Initially farmers may be happy with the new technology. But long term concerns about pest resistance, cross pollination and toxicity also need to be considered.” Pests have developed resistance to the Bt cotton crop in countries where the seeds were used. In such a situation, even pesticides may not prove effective. Then, an even hardier pest will harass cotton farmers, resulting in higher costs and lower yields. <br /><br />The second danger, Dr Agarwal points out, is that the alien gene inserted in the Bt cotton seed may be transmitted to other crop plants, endangering other plant varieties. At present, India has more than 200 cotton varieties. Thirdly, the effect of the genetic marker used to insert the alien gene in the seed is not known. If the marker is not removed, it could prove harmful. Dr Agarwal also cautions that the toxin produced to kill the bollworm could enter the food chain. There is a possibility that the Bt cotton toxin could enter the food chain through cotton oil and through the oil cakes that are fed to cattle. While the effect of the toxin is still unknown, the dangers would be more widespread than those associated with chemical insecticides, which affect the health of the immediate user.<br /><br />Dr C.D. Mayee, director of the Central Institute of Cotton Research (CICR) in Nagpur, which is conducting trials of MAHYCO’s Bollgard brand of Bt cotton, says the trials have shown that Bt seeds have no environmental impact. When asked about pest resistance, he admits, “It is likely that pest resistance may develop when the seed is used on a large scale. But it is up to scientists to develop a counter-strategy.” Bollgard is the brand name for the Bt cotton seed developed and patented by the multinational seed company Monsanto. The seed giant has a 26 per cent stake in MAHYCO. It faced tremendous opposition when it tried to introduce the seed in India in 1990. Now it is trying to enter the Indian market by tying up with an Indian company. But the Navbharat Seed company beat them to it, in some sense.<br /><br />“More than 305 seed packets were distributed in Bhavnagar alone. Individual farmers were given one packet each on a trial basis. In Kutch, the seed has been used for the past two years. No one knew they were GM seeds,” says Bhavnagar’s assistant director of agriculture, in charge of quality control, M.B. Dhorajia. When asked why the government was caught napping while the seed was being freely sold all over the state, he says, “We don’t have facilities to test for GM seeds. At the local level, we only test random samples to ensure the seed is not of sub-standard quality. There are 162 seed companies here, each producing more than 15 different varieties. Its impossible for us to keep a check on all of them.”<br /><br />For cotton farmers already burdened with increasing costs due to pest resistance to insecticides, Bt cotton may offer a quick fix solution. “This year, the crop was so bad that most people may abandon cotton cultivation next year. Costs have doubled in the last five years. At the same time, yields are falling. Even 12 or 15 sprayings of insecticide couldn’t save the crop. Over the years, the prices for our harvest have also fallen. It is no longer profitable to grow cotton. In Andhra Pradesh, indebted farmers have committed suicide. This new seed may be a good alternative for us. We have run out of options,” says Popatbhai Ramjibhai Patel from Sonarda Lath village in Gandhinagar. Currently, pesticides account for half the cotton production costs. Around 70 per cent of India’s pesticide consumption is on cotton.<br /><br />“Bt is no escape,” warns agriculture policy analyst Devinder Sharma, “it shifts the vicious cycle from pesticides and puts farmers onto another biological treadmill.” He points out that already pests have started developing resistance against Bt gene in China and Australia. “Fourth generation pesticides were greeted with the same welcome when they were introduced in the mid-‘80s. However, in a few years, insect resistance to the pesticide was widespread. In their desperation, many farmers swallowed the lethal pesticides and committed suicide,” says Sharma.<br /><br />To blame pest resistance alone for farmers’ suicides would be far too simplistic. Farmers’ indebtedness has increased due to economic policies, which have reduced the profitability of agriculture. Liberalisation policies have reduced subsidies, restricted rural credit and have opened the market to imports - direct onslaughts on farmers’ livelihoods. If such policies continue, mere technological fixes may not help.<br /><br />Even local seed distributors who stand to gain big bucks from the sale of Bt seeds are cautious. “The government should examine the effects of using these seeds and give farmers more information. They should not endanger the 200-odd cotton varieties sold in Gujarat today,” says Arunbhai Patel from Bhavnagar. <br /><br />While Bt cotton seeds require careful pest management practices, the current infrastructure in place does not provide an adequate base for modernisation of agriculture. Education, technical support, finance and equitable markets are needed, says Dr Geeta Bharathan, a scientist at the State University of New York, Stony Brook. In such a scenario, only a handful of rich farmers are likely to be able to reap the benefits of the new seeds. “MNCs have the patents for GM seeds. Once they gain control of the market, they will increase the prices drastically. Only rich farmers will be able to afford them,” says Dr Agarwal.<br /><br />A cheaper alternative exists. Although rarely spoken about because it doesn’t generate profits for large companies, organic farming has proven to yield the same results as hybrid seeds without the accompanying input costs. “The CICR bulletin states that organic methods are as effective as inorganic farming for dryland cotton, which constitutes 90 per cent of cotton production,” says Manohar Parchure from the Vidarbha Organic Farmers Association.<br /><br />While the government is still groping in the dark, stumbling in its efforts to regulate the use of GM seeds, the Navbharat seed scam has opened up a can of worms. It needs more than Bt to deal with them.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Frontline,</span> Nov 24 – Dec 7, 2001 <a href="http://www.hinduonnet.com/fline/fl1824/18240480.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-14845892330550829772007-02-23T19:46:00.000+05:302007-02-23T19:48:35.828+05:30Trade: A Free for all?<span style="font-style:italic;">While farmers in developed countries, constituting less than three per cent of the population, enjoy huge subsidies, India actually taxes its farmers. With substantive cuts in subsidies for power and fertilizer, and a fall in the selling price of agricultural produce due to dumping by developed countries, farmers face a crisis that needs to be addressed immediately.</span><br /><br />DIONNE BUNSHA<br /><br />He stood defiantly as the truck hurtled straight towards him. And he refused to budge. The truck did not relent either. While participating in the boycott of British cotton imports, Babu Genu was mowed down by a truck carrying foreign cotton. He died instantly. <br /><br />Babu Genu’s fight is as relevant today as it was 70 years ago when he was killed on December 12, 1930. He died fighting against the colonial government’s free trade policy, which gave British textile imports an unfair advantage over the Indian textile industry and affected the livelihoods of thousands of workers and weavers. In memory of Babu Genu’s fight against imperialism, the Maharashtra Kisan Sabha held state-wide protests on his death anniversary last month to highlight the adverse effects of trade and power sector liberalisation.<br /><br />At a Kisan Sabha rally in Dindori, Nashik district last month, farmers said that their livelihoods are being destroyed by the new economic policies. Trade liberalisation, cuts in fertiliser subsidies, reduced infrastructure investment and privatisation of the power sector have adversely affected the profitability of agriculture. While costs of inputs like fertilisers and electricity have risen steeply due to cuts in subsidies and privatisation, the prices at which farmers sell their produce have declined due to the glut of imported products in the market.<br /><br />“Prices have fallen substantially. I used to sell a tonne of sugarcane for Rs 1,000 last year, but this year, the price is only Rs 500. The price of garlic has decreased by around 70 per cent. We are not able to recover the costs. Debts keep accumulating every year,” said Pandit Gangorde, a small farmer from Shendvad village in Nasik.<br /><br />Pressurised by the US government to “free trade”, the central government agreed to lift quantitative restrictions (QRs) on the import of 1,200-odd items by April 2001, many of which are agricultural products. During his recent visit to the sub-continent, Bill Clinton managed to persuade India to free QRs two years prior to the April 2003 deadline agreed to by OECD countries.<br /><br />“Foreign countries give their farmers many benefits. They get huge subsidies. But our government has lifted even the most basic protection for her farmers. Imported products are being allowed to enter India at cheap prices. We cannot compete, and will be totally destroyed.,” said Ambalal Sonvane, a farmer from Varkheda village. He added that small farmers have suffered heavy losses due to the government’s liberalisation policies. “We are being hit from all sides. Our costs have risen because the government has reduced fertiliser subsidies and electricity rates have doubled due to privatisation and deals like the Enron project. At the same time, output prices are falling due to imports.”<br /><br />Agriculture has borne the brunt of liberalisation on many fronts. Cuts in government spending have resulted in reduced public investment in agriculture as well as smaller subsidies. Dismantling of procurement agencies, greater imports and falling world commodity prices have also reduced profitability. The central government’s Report of the Commission for Agricultural Cost and Prices for Crops Growth for the 1995-96 and 1996-97 season warns that wholesale price indices have not risen commensurate to the considerable increases in the prices of important farm inputs.<br /><br />Moreover, imports have also reduced market prices. “If milk from Denmark (where farming is highly subsidised) enters our market at Rs 7 per litre, when the current price is Rs 13 per litre, do we stand a chance?” asked Chintaman Gavit, Kisan Sabha Nashik district president in Maharashtra. “At first, the consumer may benefit. But once our domestic production has been totally wiped out, they will be at the mercy of foreign producers.”<br /><br />Surprisingly, the government can do something to prevent the dumping of agricultural imports, but has chosen not to. Says S.R.Pillai, national president of the Kisan Sabha, "Even the WTO rules allow the government to impose tariffs of up to 300 per cent. But despite this crisis, the government has only imposed tariffs ranging from 15 to 40 per cent. In addition, it can impose anti-dumping tariffs. But it chooses not to exercise these powers."<br /><br />India actually taxes its farmers rather than subsidising them, according to an article written by Binu Thomas of ActionAid India. “Each farmer in the developed countries gets on average a subsidy of US$ 29,000 a year. The US domestic support for its farmers was US$25.5 billion in 1996, while for the EU it was US$ 85 billion. In both the US and the EU, farmers constitute less than 3 per cent of the population. In contrast, India’s domestic support to its farmers worked out to a negative US$ 23.7 billion in 1995-96 even after providing for fertiliser, electricity, irrigation and seed subsidies.”<br /><br />Moreover, trade liberalisation has resulted in bizarre situations where India is exporting wheat at a price cheaper than what most Indians are paying. Wheat from Food Corporation of India godowns can now be exported at the same price at which it is sold to people classified as living ‘below the poverty line’, says economist Madhura Swaminathan. “Millions of undernourished and vulnerable people, who are still classified as being ‘above the poverty line’ have been told to pay a higher price for wheat than the price at which the government is willing to sell the same wheat to foreign countries,” Dr Swaminathan points out.<br /><br />Concern about the Indian farmer’s survival has sparked quite a few protests of late. Last month, farmers from Punjab held a massive rally outside parliament to protest against the reduction of procurement prices offered to farmers by the Food Corporation of India. The Telegu Desam Party recently stalled proceedings in Parliament, objecting to the central government’s failure to ensure that paddy farmers were getting the minimum support price for their produce. In a recent interview, TDP leader Chandrababu Naidu said that farmers need adequate protection from the adverse effects of free trade and the World Trade Organisation.<br /><br />The themes underlying farmer’s struggles today ring familiar to those fought by freedom fighters like Babu Genu. From colonialism to globalisation. We’ve come a long way. Or is it full circle?<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />The Hindu Sunday Magazine, </span>11 February 2001.DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-27428049845737251992007-02-23T19:30:00.000+05:302007-02-23T19:42:54.046+05:30Where's the techno fix for farmers?Bitter Harvest 4<br /><br />DIONNE BUNSHA<br /><br />YAVATMAL:<br />Litres of pesticide did not save his crop, but a few gulps of the lethal chemical ended his life. <br /><br />Vithal Krishnarao Kamble (26) committed suicide in May, unable to pay back the loans he had taken from the local moneylenders. He did not live to see his son, born a few weeks later.<br /><br />“Even the money he got from selling his mandap decoration business was not enough to settle his debts,” says his father Krishnarao, who doesn’t even know the extent of his son’s borrowings. What he does know is that Vithal bought Rs 34,000 worth of pesticide from the local dealer to rid his 18 acre plot of every cotton farmer’s nightmare – the American bol worm.<br /><br />Though Vithal sprayed his fields 15 times, even when he knew it was not advisable to spray more than four, his crop was ravaged. The pesticide was ineffective for two reasons. First, unseasonal rains increased humidity, which is favourable for widespread proliferation of the pest. Secondly, cotton monoculture has made the boll worm resistant to pesticides, even in the most concentrated dose. Moreover, pesticides are only effective during the early stages of the boll worm’s growth.<br /><br />Vithal’s tragedy illustrates the ill-effects of intensive methods of farming and unscientific agricultural practices, which are beginning to rear their ugly heads. “The green revolution made agriculture more commercial. Farmers, who earlier used indigenous inputs, are not dependent on companies for expensive seeds, fertilizers and pesticides. Never mind how high the costs or the ecological damage caused,” says Udayan Sharma from the Amravati Kisan Sabha.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAvPgoF4WqdLdq-Q0q1ObZllH5Bk9fymVF4BAmQs5esjAn2MRHV7WtntqoF0HX4vtsJQWWV2pY0k-HVmbC8nLtJIQuoxzgWlD4_W5aooBvUyP9-EwoUcQmcPr3cyTh6Ey1BmowuQ/s1600-h/1998+Bitter+Harvest++pic+4.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAvPgoF4WqdLdq-Q0q1ObZllH5Bk9fymVF4BAmQs5esjAn2MRHV7WtntqoF0HX4vtsJQWWV2pY0k-HVmbC8nLtJIQuoxzgWlD4_W5aooBvUyP9-EwoUcQmcPr3cyTh6Ey1BmowuQ/s400/1998+Bitter+Harvest++pic+4.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034731818338301394" /></a><br /><br />Crop failure due to unseasonal rain, hail storms and the pest attack destroyed the harvest in Vidarbha causing 60 farmers to commit suicide. The government has announced compensation of Rs100,000 to 19 victims’ families.<br /><br />Farmers sunk their money in pesticides that did not work. This points to the failure of the government’s agricultural extension services that are supposed to advise them on prudent farming techniques. The administration started publicizing advice about combating pest attacks only after much of the damage had already been done. With extension officers nowhere in sight, farmers were forced to seek advice from pesticide dealers. The same dealers who provide them credit.<br /><br />Says owner of the Rathi Krushi Kendra, a farm products shop at Phalegaon in Yavatmal, “The farmers don’t know much. I explain techniques to them.” And how does he keep up with the latest farming practices? “Through the companies, of course, who come here with their pamphlets,” he says.<br /><br />Aggressive and unregulated marketing by seed and fertilizer companies is pushing technologies that may be inappropriate. “In order to promote our research seeds, we cultivate a plot of land and invite farmers to see the results,” says a company salesman. Most of these seeds do not bear the government’s quality control label.<br /><br />Many seeds promoted as super hybrid seeds fail to live up to the company’s claims. “I bought 100 grams of a Korean papaya hybrid for Rs 10,000. But it did not yield even half the expected crop,” says Suryapal Chavan, a farmer from Nandgaon in Amravati.<br /><br />While companies go all out to market their products, the agricultural extension office remains far removed from ground realities. “Extension officials’ knowledge is outdated. In fact, it is the farmers who keep reading about new techniques,” adds Mr Chavan. Extension officials never reach the villages, but complete their quotas by conducting farm training session in each tehsil once a year. Moreover, training is conducted in only one crop after which they move on to the next tehsil to conduct training on another crop. Last year, even this was not conducted. “We shifted all our training sessions to Akola because the chief minister was keen on promoting the Israeli system of drip irrigation there,” says an agricultural officer in Wardha.<br /><br />While the government is trying to promote drip irrigation, which is far too expensive for the ordinary farmers, it has failed to improve basic irrigation. Less than 10 per cent of Vidarbha is irrigated. Even the few irrigation projects are not efficiently utilized. For example, only 10 per cent of the irrigation potential created in Yavatmal district has been used.<br /><br />This has resulted in excessive pumping of ground water, lowering the water table considerably, says Yavatmal district collector Rajeev Jalota. Heavy use of urea has also led to a soil imbalance.<br /><br />Although Maharashtra accounts for nearly 20 per cent of Indian cotton production, its yield per hectare is one of the lowest in the country. In Maharashtra, the percentage of irrigated area under cotton is less than two as compared to Punjab (99 per cent), Rajasthan (94 per cent) or even Andhra Pradesh (12 per cent), according to a study by S. Mahendra Dev of the Indira Gandhi Institute of Development Research.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />The Times of India, Mumbai,</span> 6 July 1998DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-36037031313864058572007-02-23T19:05:00.000+05:302007-02-23T19:29:24.017+05:30Drowning in DebtBitter Harvest 3<br /><br />DIONNE BUNSHA<br />in Amravati<br /><br />Sheikh Bhura Sheikh Ramzan has set up his home under a tree this monsoon. He sold his house to pay his debts. “When it rains heavily, we sleep in the village school,” says Sheikh, a resident of Dhanora Fasi village in Amravati.<br /><br />Even after selling the roof over his head and a third of his three-acre plot, Sheikh still has an outstanding debt of Rs 10,000 with the local moneylender.<br /><br />Lakhs of cotton cultivators in the Vidarbha region have been crippled by enormous debts after their crops failed due to unseasonal rain, hail storms and pest attacks.<br />Sheikh doesn’t know how he will make it through this kharif (monsoon) season. “The banks will throw me out. The moneylenders will not lend me any more money. It’s difficult to get work in the fields because people can’t afford to hire labourers. In any case, no one wants to hire an old man,” he says.<br /><br />While Sheikh has endured the adversity, others have not. More than 80 suicides have been reported in the state so far, 60 from the Vidarbha region. Hounded by the moneylenders and tormented with anxiety about how to find the funds to prepare their fields for this season, they felt there was no other way out.<br /><br />Manjurabai Thakur found her husband Hari (60) lying dead in the fields two days after he drank pesticide. “For days, he wouldn’t eat or talk. We don’t even know how much money he borrowed. After his death, moneylenders came here asking for Rs 10,000,” says Manjurabai from Januna village in Nandgaon taluka of Amravati.<br />Manjurabai was forced to lease out her tiny plot. “I try to find work in the fields to run the house,” she says. “When the school term begins, I will request the schoolmaster to give my grandchildren note books. There is not enough food in the house and we wait for the khichdi that the younger one brings back from his balwadi.”<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHU26tCSRR_eX5T0iAoWr7h7UC3tHKwsIa7IhdApj46e06wVR92h2ikJZvZN0OjnozHxOZrytFAvDTzzkKZ2LH1bW2TPJNR6Ogm4jRnMs2IDnspsLRQ6r6thMwJGpkDSVQma2orQ/s1600-h/1998+Bitter+Harvest+3+pic.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHU26tCSRR_eX5T0iAoWr7h7UC3tHKwsIa7IhdApj46e06wVR92h2ikJZvZN0OjnozHxOZrytFAvDTzzkKZ2LH1bW2TPJNR6Ogm4jRnMs2IDnspsLRQ6r6thMwJGpkDSVQma2orQ/s400/1998+Bitter+Harvest+3+pic.jpg" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034728695897077186" /></a><br />Repaying debts to moneylenders at interest rates of 60 to 120 per cent has pushed several families like Manjura’s to the brink. At the root of the problem is the weak rural banking system here, which caters only to a small section. Bank credit accounts for a mere Rs 256 crore of Vidarbha’s total credit requirement of Rs 2,456 crore, according to Kishor Tiwari, a local BJP activist.<br /><br />Banks seems unlikely to increase their credit in the near future since they have recovered only 5 to 13 per cent of crop loans, due to last year’s climatic crisis. The few large farmers who do receive credit say that the amount of money given per hectare does not meet all expenses. It is less than half the amount recommended by the agriculture department and the National Bank for Agriculture and Development (NABARD).<br /><br />NABARD’s executive director S.B. Sharma admits that nationally, banks cover a mere 20 per cent of the cost of agricultural production. He explains, “Since agriculture is considered an unstable business heavily dependent on the monsoon, commercial banks are reluctant to lend. Moreover, with liberalization, they are cutting costs by restricting the number of small borrowers in order to compete with foreign banks.”<br /><br />Funds in co-operative banks are corners by the politically powerful. “Politicians are on the bank’s board of directors and have total control over the funds. We can see that the money is not reach the most needy farmers,” admits a senior district co-operative bank official.<br /><br />Pointing out the “bias against agricultural finance”, Mr Sharma explains that both agriculture and industry contribute an equal 26 per cent to the GDP. Yet, agriculture receives only 12 per cent of gross bank credit while industry gets 54 per cent.<br /><br />Although an “unstable business”, there is not comprehensive crop insurance scheme to reduce the risks in agriculture. “Of the few who are insured, a small handful have been able to claim compensation for crop damage,” says a district cooperative bank official. Only 11.24 lakh of the 94.69 lakh cultivators in the state are covered by the insurance scheme.<br /><br />Profitability of farm produce is also shrinking, making the farmer’s tightrope walk for survival even more precarious. “Every year, fertilizer and seed costs increase by 10 to 15 per cent. Produce prices have not increased proportionately. While we produce the crop, traders cartels control prices. Why doesn’t the government stop this exploitation and regulate the market?” asks Pramod Lade, a farmer and Panchayat Samiti member from Wardha.<br /><br />“Early this year, the market price of tomatoes was fixed at 50 paise per kg and brinjals at Re 1. Normally, these vegetables are sold at Rs 15 to Rs 20. Since it would cost us more to transport our vegetables to the market, we decided to let them rot,” says Suryapal Chavan from Amravati.<br /><br />4 July 2006, <i>The Times of India, Mumbai</i>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-81218611170529467652006-11-22T16:34:00.000+05:302007-02-23T18:51:27.175+05:30Taking on The Lion of Gujarat<span style="font-style:italic;">The wife of slain Member of Parliament Ahsan Jafri files a complaint against Narendra Modi and other top leaders for the pogrom of 2002. </span><br /><br />DIONNE BUNSHA <br /><br />Narendra Modi calls himself the lion of Gujarat. He is best known for the gory communal pogrom of 2002. That was how Gujarat's Chief Minister was widely seen as having got himself elected to office. By manipulating the Godhra tragedy to stir up communal tension and allowing the mobs to wreak havoc. The outcome - more than 1,000 people dead officially, more than 150,000 homeless and a huge majority in the elections that followed later that year. <br /><br />Although his collusion in the carnage is common knowledge, why has he not been punished for it? Simple. No one dared file a case against him until now. <br />After more than four years, one of the victims, Zakia Jafri, has taken the bold step of registering a case against Modi and 62 others - for their complicity in the pogrom. Zakia Jafri is the elderly widow of former Member of Parliament Ahsan Jafri who was killed in his home at Gulbarg Society, Ahmedabad. It was one of the most brutal attacks in which around 50 others were killed and several women raped and mauled. Among the others mentioned in the complaint are top Vishwa Hindu Parishad (VHP) leaders (Praveen Togadia, Jaideep Patel and Keka Shastri), 11 Ministers, five Members of the Legislative Assembly (MLAs), and senior police officials and bureaucrats. The first information report (FIR) was sent by registered post on July 8 to the Sector 21 (Vidhan Sabha) police station.<br /> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcLQ-mHpyFZVjGpbCqOihyphenhyphenp0UuOfKKZTuhlyhgD-_R0sPXxXwwT-_HqX6pl0SFM_zOZrJ9V5zQZ5RwTTv3mIMSJKD5fUbuL2SrtL18RpzFSCWwAfsZmgdJ2oo1FR6DCClI387zQQ/s1600-h/zakia+jafri.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcLQ-mHpyFZVjGpbCqOihyphenhyphenp0UuOfKKZTuhlyhgD-_R0sPXxXwwT-_HqX6pl0SFM_zOZrJ9V5zQZ5RwTTv3mIMSJKD5fUbuL2SrtL18RpzFSCWwAfsZmgdJ2oo1FR6DCClI387zQQ/s400/zakia+jafri.JPG" border="1" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034712186042791346" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>Zakia Jafri, wife of late MP Ahsan Jafri who was murdered in the 2002 communal carnage</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><br />Zakia Jafri has accused the 63 named in the FIR of aiding and abetting the mass carnage and subverting the Constitution for the past four years. "A mass carnage was orchestrated by the most powerful in the State executive using pressure and connivance of the State administration and law and order machinery," Jafri said in the FIR. "There has been continued and consistent attempts to further this unlawful and unconstitutional worldview and mandate by using state terror and pressure to intimidate victim survivors, marginalise (socially and economically) the community they hail from, destroy and/or manipulate evidence to influence the course of justice." The FIR asks for action under Section 302 of the Indian Penal Code (criminal conspiracy) and other sections of laws dealing with human rights. <br /><br />Why has Jafri chosen to file the FIR after so many years? "Over the last few years, many police officials submitted affidavits to the Shah-Nanavati Commission (which is inquiring into the violence) that provide sufficient proof that the violence was planned and the police were ordered deliberately to neglect their duty," says Tanvir Jafri, Zakia's son. "The government should have used these testimonies in court as proof and filed cases. But since it has not, we have decide to take legal action. There is no doubt of police neglect in almost all the attacks. For instance, why didn't they save my father when they knew he was in danger 10 hours before he was murdered?" <br /><br />"We can't wait for the judicial commission report. These commissions go on endlessly and have become a convenient escape route for governments to avoid taking action," said Jafri. Judicial commissions have only the power to recommend that the government take action. They cannot order any legal action. There were eight commissions appointed to probe the causes of the 1984 anti-Sikh riots in Delhi. The final report was released 20 years later, which recommended action against several Congress leaders, including Kamal Nath, H.K.L. Bhagat, Jagdish Tytler and Sajjan Kumar. H.K.L. Bhagat is now dead. The others have not been arrested. The Justice Srikrishna Commission report on the Mumbai riots of 1992-93 indicted several Shiv Sena leaders, but no action has been taken against them. <br /><br />Jafri's FIR points out how the initial terms of reference of the Shah-Nanavati Commission did not include inquiring into the role of the Chief Minister and government officials. It was added in 2004 after the Congress-led United Progressive Alliance came to power at the Centre. Yet, several police and government officials have not responded to that aspect in their replies to the Commission. "The State of Gujarat has deliberately constricted the functioning of the Commission by instructing senior police officers not to file second affidavits," the FIR says.<br /> <br />The most damning evidence was against Modi and his government is the affidavits filed by Additional Director-General of Police R.B. Sreekumar, the only officer to testify about government and police connivance in the crimes. Sreekumar testified about how Gujarat's Director-General of Police K. Chakravarty told him of the meeting at the Chief Minister's office on the day of the Godhra incident. There, according to Sreekumar, Modi instructed Gujarat's top police officials to let the mobs vent their anger. Despite warnings that it would create trouble, Modi insisted that the VHP should be allowed to bring the bodies of the Godhra victims to Ahmedabad for a procession through the city's streets. <br /><br />Sreekumar also alleged that FIRs were not properly recorded, evidence was suppressed and minority community victims were harassed in police stations across the State. He submitted before the Commission a personal register in which he recorded all the illegal instructions given to the police to prove that "the CM and officials were part of a deliberate design to disturb internal security for the obvious objective of gaining political caption and electoral benefit to the CM and the ruling party". He gave evidence of how police officers who prevented violence from taking place were punished and those who allowed it to continue were rewarded. Sreekumar has been harassed for telling the truth. The Gujarat government issued a charge-sheet against him for violating service rules. <br /><br />Several other police officers' testimonies also provide evidence of deliberate state neglect. The then Superintendent of Police in Bhavnagar, Rahul Sharma, was under pressure for having arrested Sangh Parivar activists involved in the violence. The testimony of K. Mysorewala from Naroda police station is evidence of police neglect in preventing one of the most brutal communal attacks in the country, in which 83 people were massacred and many women raped and assaulted. <br /><br />Although there is sufficient proof of police neglect, the Gujarat government has not taken action against a single policeman. Only in the Randhikpur mass killing case, the Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) arrested policemen for concealing evidence and conspiring with the accused. "If you see the state of justice in Gujarat, there is no hope for us. All the public prosecutors are VHP supporters and are conspiring to protect the accused. Our only hope is the Supreme Court," said Tanvir Jafri. <br /><br />There is a big risk to the lives of the Jafri family. They are the only people in Gujarat who have dared to prosecute the most powerful. Anyone who has dared to speak out has been harassed. Why is an elderly woman taking such a great risk? "We know that anything can happen to us any time. The same hostile mindset in Gujarat still exists. But we have no other option. It's better than not doing anything," said Tanvir. "We have already lost. Now we can only gain by trying to get justice," he added. <br /><br />It takes guts to take on a lion. <br /><br />Frontline, Jul. 15 - 28, 2006 <a href="http://www.frontline.in/stories/20060728002803400.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-26796365621954683452006-11-22T16:21:00.000+05:302007-02-23T18:18:14.511+05:30Festival of Fear<i>After all the hype and anti-Christian propaganda, the Shabari Kumbh Mela may have been a damp squib, with more outsiders ferried here for a day-out while fearful locals stayed home. But is this the start of a larger hate campaign?</i><br /><br />Dionne Bunsha<br /><i>In Dang, Gujarat</i><br /><br />Just outside Jarsol village there's a celebration. Inside, there's an eerie silence. Jiva Powar (name changed) keeps a watch over the crowd of pilgrims outside his house. Paramilitary troops sit next to him. Yet he is uneasy. <br /><br />In the build-up to the Vishwa Hindu Parishad's newly created Shabari Kumbh Mela, Adivasi Christians like Jiva have been threatened. That's why many have fled. "Sangh activists came to people's houses and warned them that during the Kumbh we will make you bathe, purify you and make you Hindu," says Jiva. "One family has left the village till the Kumbh ends. Another farmer has sent his wife and children to her parent's home." <br /><br />Jiva is also guarding his land on the 'Pampa Sarovar' (a small pond which the Sangh claims is the place where Shabari’s guru sat), where pilgrims bathe. The Shabari Kumbh trust has forcibly taken it over and put up stalls and shelters there. "They are trying to take away all our rights. Without asking, they've set up all this on my land. Initially, they wanted to build a garden, but I argued with the officials who came to survey the land. Soon the trust will start claiming that the land is theirs and the government will let them take it," he says. <br /><br />Jiva isn't the only person whose land has been taken. In Mukkamal village, Manad Powar (name changed) sold one acre of his 3.5 acre farm land to the Shabari trust, but they grabbed the entire plot to build the Shabari temple (see: Creating A Kumbh, Frontline, 10 Feb 2006). <br /><br />The Shabari Kumbh Mela wasn't just an innocuous religious festival. It's been organised to create a new religious tourism site and to intimidate Christians. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/480/4442/1600/2006-02-25%20dang%20kumbh%20pic%201.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;"src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/480/4442/400/2006-02-25%20dang%20kumbh%20pic%201.jpg" border="1" alt="" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>The new Shabari Dham temple built on Manad Powar's land.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><br />Traditionally, there are four Kumbh melas. But the VHP started a fifth one in Subir and Jarsol villages in Dang, based purely on the wish of the famous sant Morari Bapu. He came here in 2002 and said that a Kumbh should be organised because this was the place where the adivasi Shabari fed Lord Ram berries while he was in the forest looking for Sita. The Sangh's use of Shabari, an adivasi, makes it easier for tribals to identify with Brahmanical Hinduism. The traditional Adivasi religion is based on nature worship. The VHP hopes the Kumbh will lead to a "Hindu awakening" and "re-convert" Christian adivasis. "Even one of the five Dang Rajas who had become Christian has returned to Hinduism," boasted a Sangh activist. <br /><br />The Shabari Kumbh website is has strong anti-Christian propaganda: "For long, Bharat has been a special target of the Christian Church worldwide. To the Church, the Hindus represent the greatest stumbling block in their grand design to establish Christ’s kingdom on earth. The poor, illiterate, mild Vanvasi Hindu is an obvious target in this nefarious scheme. For years, under the garb of social service, the Church has been spreading its tentacles in far-flung, tribal regions of our country. These converted Vanvasis become alienated from their customs and traditions. They get uprooted from their cultural milieu. Conversion to Christianity is invariably associated with separatism and terrorism as is evident in North-East Bharat...The process of self-alienation and separatism, which inevitably accompanies conversion, had become visible in Dang. Makeshift, illegal churches had mushroomed in cowsheds and residential areas. These churches were unregistered and illegal. Such was the terrorism of Christian activists that it had become unsafe for Hindus to move out of their houses after dusk." <br /><br />The ground reality is very different from the picture painted by the Shabari Kumbh website. There aren't any involuntary conversions. Rather, Adivasi Christians are scared to move freely in the atmosphere created during the Kumbh. <br /><br />On the last day of the mela, there were reports that a mob destroyed tombs a Christian cemetery in Ghumadia village. A complaint was filed with the police and the collector. But when contacted by Frontline, R.M. Jadhav, the district collector denied any knowledge of the incident and dismissed it as a rumour. <br /><br />Here, the district administration seems to be working for the Shabari Trust. Journalists at the festival were surprised to see top district officials including the collector and secretary in charge of the district holding a press conference under the banner of the Kumbh mela and hosted by the Shabari trust. In this deprived area, any development work was unheard of. Suddenly, in a matter of a few months, 22 check dams and roads were constructed at break neck speed before the Kumbh. Government funds for development of tribal areas are being used to provide infrastructure for the mela. <br /><br />Around six lakh pilgrims were expected to visit this forest district that has a total population of less than two lakh. The environmental damage caused prompted the Central ministry of environment and forest to conduct an investigation. A public interest case has been filed in the Supreme Court (SC) against the illegal non-forest activity inside a protected forest. Another petition against the Shabari Kumbh video CD has also been filed in the SC. The CD contains communally inflammatory remarks against Christians. (See: Creating A Kumbh, Frontline, 10 Feb 2006). <br /><br />Most pilgrims were from outside Dang district - from Surat, Ahmedabad, Madhya Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh, Maharashtra. They came by the busload, mobilised by the Sangh. "We have come for the ride," said Tarachand Patidar, a farmer from Ujjain, M.P. and RSS activist. "The Sangh has organised this because people here have changed their religion. Those who switch their religion become enemies of the nation." Locals were a bit apprehensive to speak. Most said that they were happy that so many people were visiting their village. "But we haven't got any work during this mela. People from outside have been brought here to work," said an adivasi from Subir. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e){}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/480/4442/1600/2006-02-25%20dang%20kumbh%20pic%202.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/480/4442/400/2006-02-25%20dang%20kumbh%20pic%202.jpg" border="1" alt="" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>A sadhu with a pilgrim.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Ashima Narain</center></FONT><br />During their speeches, leaders continued their tirade the Christians. Morari Bapu quoted from the Bible and said that Christ was against conversions. "Today, plane-loads from the Vatican can come here and convert people, but if we organise a ghar vaapsi (return home ceremony), it is bad? This programme is about peace and tolerance, which is part of Hinduism. No one shall be scared of this," he said. <br /> <br />Chief minister Narendra Modi warned, "Mahatma Gandhi fought conversions. Our Constitution disapproves of them, and yet some people turn a blind eye. Let me warn everyone, it is my constitutional duty to prevent conversions."' Explaining his vision to make the Shabari Kumbh a tourist destination, the chief minister said, "I see Shabari Kumbh as a Vikas Yatra (path to development). Every Indian should have a desire to visit this place during their lifetime. If that happens, poverty will be removed. And the local culture will flourish." <br /><br />But locals are not buying into his dream. They don't want to meet the same fate as the refugees from Saputara, a village 65 km away that was converted into a hill station. "The government forced 40 families to leave. They jailed us and forced us to surrender our land documents as bail. They cheated and settled us in a village near the Maharashtra border," says Pandubhai Choudhari, a journalist and shop keeper from Saputara. "We were promised farm land but never given any. These 40 families were settled on 10 acres of land. Our village stretched across 300 acres. Today, people are still roaming as casual labourers searching for work or washing dishes in hotels there." <br /><br />Adivasis in the villages surrounding the site of the Kumbh mela know that the end of the festival doesn't mean they can breathe easy. "The organisers have paid villagers Rs 300 and taken their thumb impressions on a blank piece of paper. Who knows what they will do with that paper? The government will let them do anything," said Jiva. "Will they take away our land like they did in Saputara?”<br /><br />The Shabari Kumbh Mela is just the start of the Sangh’s work in Dang. Hill stations, intimidation…Locals fear there’s much more to follow.<br /> <br /><i>Frontline,</i> Feb. 25 - Mar. 10, 2006 <a href="http://www.hinduonnet.com/fline/fl2304/stories/20060310002803900.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-30235322307803964902006-11-22T15:57:00.000+05:302006-11-22T16:19:48.292+05:30Hindus awake, Christians run<i>Traditionally, India has four Kumbh Melas. The Sangh has just created a fifth in Dangs with the sole aim of scaring off Christian missionaries in the region.<br /></i><br /><br />Dionne Bunsha<br /><i>In Dang</i><br /><br /><i>How Lord Ram destroyed demonic forces like Ravan<br />Today, demonic forces are trying to destroy Hinduism (picture of a church with a cross) <br />To confront them and to create religious awakening<br />The Shabari Kumbh Mela calls out to everyone.<br />…It will try to get all parts of society to unite with Hindu religion<br />And will stop conversions.</i><br /> -- From a promotional video for the Vishwa Hindu Parishad’s Shabari Kumbh Mela in Dang, Gujarat.<br /><br />Sounds like a call for religious war? It may well be. A targeted communal attack disguised as a holy festival. <br /><br />For the first time in history, the VHP has created a fifth Shabari Kumbh Mela in Dang district. The festival is being used to build tension and intimidate Christian Adivasis in this isolated forest region in south Gujarat.<br /><br />For several years, the local VHP leader Swami Aseemanand has led a vicious campaign against Christians here. In 1998, there were 38 attacks on Christians in a span of three weeks. Since then, the Sangh has worked to create hostility towards them. The Shabari Kumbh Mela is one more step in that direction . The propaganda on their website and in their promotional video clearly states that the event is meant to fight the influence of Christianity in this area, and ‘awaken’ Hinduism amongst tribals. “Hindu jaage, Christi bhaage (Hindus awake, Christians run)” is the slogan used here. And the strategies of oppression are very systematically planned.<br /><br />In 2002, they invited the sant Morari Bapu for a Ram Katha. In his speech, Morari Bapu said that there should be a Kumbh mela here at the place where Lord Ram met Shabari. The Sangh has been propagating the myth that Lord Ram met his adivasi follower Shabari here, and ate the wild berries that she tasted. However, there is no historical evidence, nor is there any religious precedent of a Kumbh mela here. For centuries, there have been only four Kumbh Melas. Suddenly, a fifth one has been started based solely on Morari Bapu’s declaration. And with a clear intent to intimidate.<br /><br />From 11th to 13th February, the Sangh plans to get more than five lakh pilgrims for this event. The total population of Dang district is just a little over two lakh, almost entirely adivasi. So, the entire district will be swamped with the Sangh’s supporters. The event is being marketed in cities of neighbouring states as a new religious tourism destination.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/480/4442/1600/2006-01-28%20Dang%20pic%202.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/480/4442/400/2006-01-28%20Dang%20pic%202.jpg" border="1" alt="" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>The Pampa Sarovar lake built for the Shabari Kumbh Mela. </center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT><br />Jarsol Dahad, a small pond in Subir village has been re-named ‘Pampa Sarovar’, the place where Ram met Shabari. A place that has seen no development for decades is suddenly awash with funds. The government has built 12 check dams to make sure there is enough water in the ‘Pampa Sarovar’ for pilgrims to bathe. Village roads are being tarred. Piped drinking water and electricity is being brought to places where there has been none so far. Tents, water tanks and toilets are being put up in farmlands, paying villagers a mere Rs 300. If people are not willing to rent out their land, local officials intervene on behalf of the Shabari organizers. Forty temporary townships, to accommodate 5000 people each, are being constructed.<br /><br />Surrounding villages have been swamped with Sangh activists preparing for the mela. In Subir, they distribute free meals, grains and clothes to villagers. Activists are visiting villages to mobilise supporters. They are intimidating Adivasi Christians and taking photographs of their homes and of Christian institutions like schools or dispensaries. On the local Akashvani is broadcasting Morari Bapu’s speech every evening. Audio-visual vans tour the villages, screening the promotional video and the Ramayana TV serial. In villages, the atmosphere is tense. People refuse to speak about the mela. Rumours are rife that Christians will be attacked. All signs of planned disaster repeated before most communal attacks.<br /><br />“Swami Aseemanand’s supporters come here and tell us that everyone should be Hindu. There shouldn’t be a single Christian in this village,” says Sonu Powar (name changed), an Adivasi Christian farmer in Jarsol village. “There are rumours that there will be a riot. People will come from outside and the police will not stop them.” <br /><br />Threats began many months earlier. Shimbuben Powar (name changed) was filling water when Sangh activists came to her home a few months back. “My little son was home. They entered my house and tore the picture of Jesus. I rushed back. They told me, ‘If you don’t follow Ram, you will be finished in the Kumbh Mela. Even the police won’t save you.’ They took photographs of me and of our house,” she says. When Shimbuben reported it to the police, they took down the names, but did not lodge a complaint. Earlier this month, some women came back to her home and told her to leave Jesus and follow Ram.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/480/4442/1600/2006-01-28%20Dang%20pic%203.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/480/4442/400/2006-01-28%20Dang%20pic%203.jpg" border="1" alt="" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>Amidst bamboo poles put up in a farm for tents, a Bhil tablet depiciting symbols of nature. The Sangh Parivar simply assumes that all tribal people are Hindus.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT><br />The newly constructed Pampa Sarovar and Shabari Dham temple are both built on land grabbed from Adivasis, villagers allege. The Shabari trust has snatched Sonu’s land near the ‘Pampa Sarovar’. The government has done nothing to stop them. Instead, villagers allege that it is assisting the land grab. “Government officials came and surveyed my land. They said they wanted to find out how much was mine and how much was protected forest land. I told them that I have the title deed as proof,” says Sonu Powar. But they didn’t listen to him. They have let the land be used as a tourist spot. “The swami’s supporters fought with me and told me to give the land to the swami. They even filed a police case against me for fighting with a shopkeeper.” If the land is protected forest, then why is the government turning it into a tourist playground?<br /><br />Manad Powar had 3.5 hectares of land on a hill known as Chamak Dongar (shining mountain). When the Shabari trust wanted to build a temple there, they asked Manad to sell one hectare for Rs 40,000. But they captured all his 3.5 hectares of land. “I still have title to the land. But now, if I go there, the security guards threaten me. I am alone here, my sons work in the cities. I can’t fight them. They even cut 100 trees which I had planted to make a road to the temple,” says Manad. “They made my cousin a member of the Shabari trust, and claim the land is in his name.” Manad is now planning to fight his case in court.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e){}"href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/480/4442/1600/2006-01-28%20Dang%20pic%201.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/480/4442/400/2006-01-28%20Dang%20pic%201.jpg" border="1" alt="" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>The new Shabari Dham temple built on Manad Powar's land.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT><br />“We have taken people’s consent for using their land. Anyways, the land is not being used after the monsoon crop,” said Suresh Kulkarni, secretary of the Shabari Kumbh Samaroh Ayojan Samiti. He said the main aim of the Kumbh was to awaken Hinduism. He said he had not seen the Shabari Kumbh website which spews venom against Christians. When asked if any historical proof existed that Ram came to this exact location, he said, “We know because Morari Bapu said this is the spot. And the Ramayan is proof enough. We are organizing it on 11th February because that is Mag Panchimi, the time when Ram and Shabari met. Also, the adivasis celebrate Basant Panchmi at this time.” <br /><br />Local MLA Madhu Bhoye has been petitioning the collector and other officials to prevent any communal trouble and forest destruction that the Kumbh has wrought. “Innocent Adivasi people are being misguided by so-called religious organizations by propagating the imaginary mythological story of the Pampa Sarovar. There is no mention of the Pampa Sarovar in the history of Dangs,” he said. Explaining the environmental effects, Bhoye said, “In the last few months, illegal timber felling in the forest has also increased because outsiders have come here to prepare for the Kumbh. Everyday, around Rs 10-15 lakh worth of timber is being stolen from the forest.”<br /><br />But the government’s only response to the upheaval in the district has been to expedite all work connected with the Kumbh. District collector R. N. Jadhav estimates that development works worth Rs 3 to 4 crores has been spent on the building of the check dams, roads and pipelines. “We would have done it anyways even if the Kumbh was not there,” he says. Jadhav assures that there will be no trouble during the mela. When asked why no action has been taken even though the Kumbh’s promotional video spews anti-Christian propaganda, he says, “I have not received any complaint, so why should I take any action?” Meanwhile, human rights groups have filed a case in the Supreme court asking that minorities should be protected considering the hate propaganda that is being spread. <br /><br />The Sangh’s promotional video warns that the rate of increase of the Christian population in Dang has grown four fold. It points out that Christians constitute only 0.44% of Gujarat’s population, but are 5.43% in Dang. “History has shown us that places where the Hindu majority has weakened have become hotbeds of terrorism and anti-national activities,” the video says. The Sangh is generating fear to gain political and economic control of this rich forest area. Even today, money and muscle power are being used to gain support in villages. Bonds between communities are being torn. <br /><br />Contrary to the Sangh’s myth, adivasis are not being forcibly converted. Most turn to the church for health reasons. “My father and me kept falling ill. There was some bad influence on us. We went to the local bhagats who made us spend money on killing one goat every month. Yet, it didn’t work. So my uncle took me to a local Christian priest and I felt some peace. We got better without paying anything,” says Ramesh (name changed). While the Sangh wants to ‘re-convert’ Christians, they were never Hindus to begin with. Adivasis have their own festivals and rituals in which they worship nature. Their religious practices are very different from the Brahmanical brand of Hinduism that the Sangh wants them to follow.<br /><br />But regardless of facts, the myths continue to be propagated. The show will go on. The swamis and Sanghis are all set to take Dang by storm next month. It may not be as innocuous as just a dip in the pond.<br /><br /><i>Frontline,</i> Jan. 28 - Feb. 10, 2006 <a href="http://www.flonnet.com/fl2302/stories/20060210003403700.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-45054008358731361462006-11-19T12:50:00.000+05:302006-11-22T15:57:30.768+05:30Digging up the Dead<em>Looking for a dead relative? Get your shovel. Uncover a mass grave. You may expose the cops’ cover-up —but you will be arrested.</em><br /><br />DIONNE BUNSHA<br /><em>In Lunawada and Ahmedabad</em><br /><br />Ameena’s on the run again. During Gujarat’s communal violence in March 2002, she had to escape when her village, Pandharvada, was attacked. Today, she’s running from the law. The police have filed a case against her and several refugees because they dug up a mass grave in Lunawada with the remains of their relatives. <br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/480/4442/1600/773189/2006-01-14%20-%20digging%20up%20ameena.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/480/4442/400/885130/2006-01-14%20-%20digging%20up%20ameena.jpg" border="1" alt="" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>Ameena - arrested for trying to find her dead relatives body</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT><br />For years, Pandharvada’s refugees have been asking the police to help them find the bodies of 20 people killed in the massacre, who were reported as ‘missing’. But all their pleas had no effect. The police made no effort to help them find the last remains of their loved ones. So, they started doing their own detective work.<br /><br />It started with Rs 50 of country liquor. And ended up being one of the Gujarat government’s biggest embarrassments. Ghulam Kharadi got the tip-off from a drunk municipal sweeper who had been hired to bury the bodies. While chatting with him late one night, he said he could take them to the exact spot where their relatives were buried. He led them to the site and they started digging immediately to check. Skeletons started emerging, along with clothes they could recognize.<br /><br />Immediately they called others who had lost their relatives. Then, they called Sahara news. Broadcast across national TV, the police’s cover up job was exposed. Ameena Rasool and other refugees rushed to the High Court asking it to hand over the investigation to the Central Bureau of Intelligence (CBI). The court passed an interim order directing the CBI to conduct DNA tests in a lab in Hyderabad. The victims did not trust the Gujarat police or the Gandhinagar lab to carry out the tests.<br /><br />The mass grave in Lunawada is just one of the many instances of police negligence that are continually being brought to light as cases are heard in court or investigated by outside agencies like the CBI. Not only did the police fail to protect many of those killed in the communal pogrom, but later it refused to record witnesses’ statement, buried evidence and shielded the accused. In several cases, including the Pandharvada case, the culprits have been acquitted because of the haphazard manner in which the police dealt with the investigations.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/480/4442/1600/2006-01-14%20-%20digging%20up%20site.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/480/4442/400/2006-01-14%20-%20digging%20up%20site.jpg" border="1" alt="" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>Police guarding the site of the mass graves in Lunawada after refugees dug them up in search of the bodies of their dead relatives</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT><br />Pandharvada’s refugees still live in Lunawada. They haven’t been able to return to their village because they are still threatened by those who attacked them. The police provide no protection. Most witnesses have lost all faith in the police. <br /><br />That’s why they turned to the media. “When we found the bones and the clothes, we called activists from the Citizens for Justice and Peace (CJP) and Sahara news. Teesta Setalvad from the CJP called the police superintendent and asked him to seal the site,” says Kharadi, who was the first to find the burial site. Why didn’t they call the police? “What’s the point? So often, we’ve asked them for help to find the bodies, but they ignored us.”<br /><br />This time too, the Gujarat police lived up to their name. Instead of helping the victims, they harassed them. Ghulam was illegally detained overnight at the Lunawada circuit house. His friend was kept at Lunawada police station. When Ghulam went to Ahmedabad to petition the court for a CBI investigation, the local police came looking for him and harassed his wife. Several refugees in Lunawada wanted to get away from the town, terrified that the police would get after them. Their fears were not unfounded. The police filed a case against 11 refugees plus four others for hurting religious feelings, trespassing on government property and some other offences. That’s the most prompt action the police has taken in this case.<br /><br />Yet, the Gujarat police dismissed the unearthing of the mass grave as an unnecessary publicity campaign. “It was not found. It was always there,” says A.K. Bhargav, Gujarat’s Director-General of Police. “Post-mortems of 34 bodies were conducted in Lunawada hospital. Of these, relatives took six bodies on 3rd March 2002. We exhumed eight bodies in October 2002 when people asked for them. That leaves 20 bodies unclaimed. These people never asked us for the bodies. We would have helped them too.”<br /><br />“Everything is legal and on record. We haven’t received any application for the dead bodies,” said Dinesh Brahmbhatt, district collector and magistrate of Panchmahal. Yet, he was not able to provide any documentation of the bodies exhumed. Nor was he able to explain why clothes were found with the skeletons. If post-mortems are conducted, the clothes are to be removed and kept by the police, and a white shroud is supposed to be placed over the body. “This shows that the post-mortem may not have been done properly,” says Setalvad. Moreover, victims claim that the police FIR does not account for the 20 bodies that were missing. But neither they nor their lawyer could state how many people were registered as dead in the two FIRs filed in the Pandharvada case.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/480/4442/1600/2006-01-14%20-%20digging%20up%20police.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger2/480/4442/400/2006-01-14%20-%20digging%20up%20police.jpg" border="1" alt="" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>Police interrogating Sabira Kharadi, whose husband Jabir was killed in Pandharvada.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><br /><FONT SIZE="-2"><center>Photo: Dionne Bunsha</center></FONT><br />The district court acquitted eight accused in the Pandharvada case, and said that there were lapses in the investigation. “The case fell through because the police didn’t take down our statements properly. We named 56 people as accused, of whom they brought only eight to court,” say Pandharwada’s witnesses. “They didn’t bring the real culprits, but put up bogus people including a one-handed man, as the accused. Obviously, no one could identify them. Moreover, only six of the 56 witnesses were examined. And many of them were scared to speak since the real criminals are roaming freely in the village. We can’t even go back home because they can still threaten us. Only if the CBI investigates, the truth will come out.”<br /><br />It’s not only the Pandharvada case, but in several others too, the police have tried to bury and conceal evidence. In Kalol, the CBI arrested six policemen and two doctors who deliberately destroyed evidence relating to the Randhikpur massacre and conspired to shield the accused. They conducted a post-mortem at the site of the burial and added 60 kg of salt so that the bodies would disintegrate quickly. Earlier, bodies from the Kidiad killings were found in the Panam dam, close to where this mass grave was recently found. Investigations have been so shoddy that the police closed 2120 of the 4252 communal violence cases as ‘true but undetected’. The police had closed the cases citing lack of evidence as the reason. But eye-witnesses insist that the police had not taken down their statements properly. The Supreme court has ordered a special inquiry into these cases and re-opening those where evidence is available.<br /><br />“All I want is my husband’s body. What answer can I give them when they ask for their father? At least I should be able to show them a gravestone,” said Sabira Kharadi, whose husband Jabir was killed in Pandharvada. “We haven’t celebrated any festival for four years. It’s still too dangerous for us to go back to our village. We are barely surviving here. But this is all we are asking for.”<br /><br />There are many like Ameena and Sabira in Gujarat who are still waiting for the police’s cover-ups to be unearthed.<br /><br /><i>Frontline,</i> Jan. 14 - 27, 2006 <a href="http://www.flonnet.com/fl2301/stories/20060127003103600.htm<br />"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36389344.post-1626231840406209042006-11-19T12:45:00.000+05:302006-11-19T12:47:55.059+05:30Still A Burning Question<em>Rejecting the police’s conspiracy theory, the Justice Banerjee Committee has called the Godhra tragedy “an accident”. But will it absolve an entire community that has been branded as terrorists?</em><br /><br />DIONNE BUNSHA<br /><br />On 27th February 2002, Ishaq Mohammed Mamdu (30) was at his home in Godhra when he heard about the fire that burned a compartment of the Sabarmati Express when it stopped at Godhra station early that morning. Ishaq is blind and stayed at indoors when curfew orders were passed. Normally, he helped his brother Shabbir in his scrap business. Two months later, the police barged into his house and arrested him under the Prevention of Terrorism Act (POTA) for being part of the conspiracy to burn the train. Ishaq’s bail applications have been rejected. The tension of his confinement killed his mother. He is still in jail.<br /><br />Not only Ishaq, but the entire Muslim community was blamed for the Godhra tragedy. The Sangh Parivar used it to launch a pogrom against Muslims in Gujarat, during which more than 1,000 people were killed and 150,000 were made homeless.<br /><br />Almost three years after the Godhra blaze, the Justice Banerjee high level committee, appointed by the Union cabinet to look into the reason for the fire, has said that there is no proof of the ‘terrorist conspiracy’ that Ishaq was supposedly part of. The train caught fire accidentally. It is the first government response that contradicts the findings of the police investigation. <br /><br />What does this mean for the 104 accused of being terrorists? For now, nothing more than a moral vindication. The Banerjee committee has no legal powers, it has merely submitted the findings of its interim report to the railway ministry. The committee was formed after the new United Progressive alliance government came to power and railway minister Lalu Yadav initiated the inquiry. It is up to the Union government how it chooses to act on the committee’s conclusions. The Special Investigation Team (SIT) of the Gujarat police still stands by its conspiracy theory and the matter is being heard in the POTA court.<br /><br />Soon after Justice Banerjee released his report, the SIT called a press conference to reiterate its findings. “We have evidence that a core group of around 15 to 20 people were involved in the conspiracy,” said Rakesh Asthana, who heads the SIT. He maintains that the plan to torch the train was masterminded during meetings at Aman Guest House, owned by Razak Kurkur, who allegedly heads a local criminal gang involved in railway crimes. The police say that 140 litres of petrol were also stored in the guest house. <br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/480/4442/1600/68430/2005-01-29%20godhra%20-%20banerjee%20photo%201.%20jpg.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/480/4442/400/884197/2005-01-29%20godhra%20-%20banerjee%20photo%201.%20jpg.jpg" border="1" alt="" /></a><center><FONT SIZE="-2"><B>Justice U.C. Banerjee inspecting the burnt coach S-6 of the Sabarmati Express at Godhra in September 2004.</center></FONT SIZE="-2"></B><br />The actual operation was conducted by six people who cut open the vestibule and entered, opened the closed doors of the compartment, poured 120 litres of petrol (each supposedly carried a 20 litre jerry can) and jumped out, according to the SIT investigation. Then, burning rags were thrown in through the windows in the middle of the compartment. The SIT’s main evidence is a court confession by Zabir Bin Yameen Behra, one of those who allegedly entered the S6 compartment, in which he revealed details of how the plan was hatched. Later, he went back on the testimony, saying the police forced him to depose before the court. <br /> <br />The Banerjee committee has rejected the SIT’s conspiracy theory. It rules out the possibility of any inflammable liquid being responsible for the fire, as there was first a smell of burning and then a smoke and flames, which would not be the case if inflammable fluid were used. “The inflammable liquid theory gets negated by the statement of some of the passengers who suffered injuries on the upper portion of the body and not the lower body and who crawled towards the door on elbows and could get out without much injury,” says the Banerjee report. “The committee has found it unbelievable that Kar Sevaks (to the extent of 90% of the total occupants) armed with trishuls would allow themselves to be burned by miscreant activity like a person entering S6 coach from outside and setting it on fire.”<br /><br />The ‘miscreant theory’ was also dismissed by the commission. It ruled out the possibility that the fire could have ignited after a fight erupted between the Kar Sevaks and hawkers at Godhra station, and the local hawkers gathered a mob which threw stones and burning rags at the Kar Sevaks inside S6. “The committee has noted the forensic laboratory’s experiment and verified its conclusion that it was impossible to set fire to the train from outside,” Banerjee concluded.<br /><br />Eliminating the ‘petrol theory’, the ‘miscreant ’ theory and the possibility of an electrical fire, the committee concluded that the case of the burning was an “accidental fire”. But, it gave no reasons why it could have been an “accidental fire”. Moreover, it totally ignores the fact that a fight did flare up at the station platform. And it continued when the train stopped twice a few minutes after it pulled out of Godhra station, a huge mob had gathered which hurled stones and burning rags at the compartment. The committee believes that a fire happened ‘accidentally’ just when a brawl occurred at the same location. There is no mention in the committee’s report of the fracas that broke out just outside the burnt bogey.<br /><br />The committee report also highlighted the failings of the railway administration. It has severely criticized the entire hierarchy of Western Railway for pre-judging the cause by describing the fire as ‘miscreant activity’ without even conducting a preliminary inquiry. Even later, no statutory inquiry into the fire was carried out. Neither the railway minister nor any members of the Board visited the site of the accident or the injured passengers. Moreover, the railway administration did not try to preserve the evidence. The S7 coach, despite some damage to it, was allowed to travel onward to Ahmedabad, even though it was a crucial piece of evidence.<br /><br />The ‘truth’ about the Godhra fire seems to change when governments change. Railway minister Lalu Yadav is using the committee as a game of one-upmanship with the BJP and Sangh Parivar. These saffron groups had immediately labeled the Godhra tragedy as a conspiracy by Islamic terrorist and used it to build up pre-election Hindutva fervour and carry out revenge killings across Gujarat. On the day of the incident, the VHP had made a public statement demanding, “Blood for Blood”. <br /><br />But somewhere, the new Congress(I) led alliance government seems to have missed the point. Why should it be desperately trying to prove Godhra was an accident? Even if it was a terrorist conspiracy, does it justify the state-sponsored violence that followed?<br /><br />The sequence of events:<br /><br />7.42 a.m.: The Sabarmati Express arrived at Godhra station. Some Kar Sevaks got down to buy tea and snacks from the platform vendors. An argument ensued between a Muslim vendor and the Kar Sevaks over payment for the tea.<br />7.47 a.m.: The train departed from Godhra. While getting on to the train, Kar Sevaks tried to pull into the compartment a girl standing on the platform with her mother. But she managed to pull away from them.<br />7.48 a.m.: The chain was pulled, as many Kar Sevaks were still left on the platform. Stone throwing started between the Kar Sevaks and local Muslims gathered behind the Parcel Office.<br />8.00 a.m.: The train started.<br />8.05 a.m.: The train stopped again, when the vacuum brakes were applied. Local Muslims, armed with weapons, rushed to catch up with the train. They crowd in separate groups outside the compartment. They started pelting stones and shouting slogans. Coach S6 caught fire.<br />8.25 a.m.: Police arrived at the scene and fired to disperse Muslim mob.<br /><br /><i>Frontline,</i> Jan 29 - Feb 11, 2005 <a href="http://www.hinduonnet.com/fline/fl2203/stories/20050211004203200.htm"> Also available here</a><strong></strong>DionneBunshahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03182935772725775262noreply@blogger.com0