INTERPRETACIÓN, ANÁLISIS y DISCUSIÓNDE DATOS.

August 27, 2009: All the shops closed early in the main market of Uttarkashi. The narrow, winding lanes that would normally be bustling with midday commerce were nearly deserted when I entered town. Only a handful of storekeepers worked hurriedly to pack up and secure the sliding metal sheets that, once padlocked, sealed the doors to the outside world. I asked one group of workers if it was a holiday as they hauled heavy sacks of rice and lentils inside a store for foodstuffs. “No holiday,” they replied, “its a strike. The dam builders are coming through. If we don’t close shop, they’ll tear it down.” As he spoke, a speaker announcement was audible from the main activity grounds, a space specifically reserved for fairs, cricket matches, and the occasional protest.

I hurried my pace to reach the open-air field. When I arrived, I saw a giant tent erected in the eastern corner with an assembly of hundreds standing underneath. After preliminary inquiries, it became clear that this was no ordinary pro-dam rally. Flags for the Congress Party, one of India’s two main political parties, waved around the tent. I’d just begun asking people about the protest—was it organized by the NTPC company, the ones building the dam, or was it a Congress party event?—when three jeeps stormed onto the grounds, stopping near the tent. Young men quickly jumped out of these cars and onto the roofs and bumpers to yell animated slogans through a loudspeaker. “Death to those who oppose the dams!” shouted the man with the microphone. “Death to them, death to

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them!” came the chorus.22 I’d been taking pictures of the protest but when I heard the slogans, I began to back up slowly, seeking refuge in the women’s corner of the tent. Did they know that I’d been making inquiries at NTPC headquarters the day before? Would anyone recognize me as the foreigner that spends time with the dam opponents?

Figure 4.1 Congress Party and Youth Rally in Favor of Dams on the Ganga

Left: A caravan of pro-dam youth storming the Ram Lila grounds in Uttarkashi Right: An image, from inside the tent, of a “rally” organized by dam proponents

If people knew of my mixed affiliations, they did not make it known to me. Several people ushered me to a seat in the women’s section when a call from the loudspeakers urged the growing audience to assemble under the tent. As the rally got underway I realized that the event was, in fact, affiliated with the Congress party. Featured speakers included some of the most prominent regional and state politicians. Many had come to see Vijay Bahuguna, a member of parliament, who made a brief appearance to talk in favor of dams and development in the economically struggling area. Before he arrived,

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however, a dozen or so speakers made impassioned pleas.

One man spoke directly to the opposition’s concerns. “Its not that we do not want to save Ganga,” he preemptively countered. “We are not opposing Ganga. Ganga is our culture and our Mother. Ganga is our identity (pehchaan)!” After pausing to receive the applause these sentiments evoked, he then employed poetry to cast doubt on the integrity of those opposing the dams:

Ganga, that your water is nectar Ganga, that your water is nectar --Everybody says so!

But who worries about you and keeps you in their thoughts?

In your sacred land, there are many worshipers of Lakshmi [wealth]. In your sacred land, there are many worshipers of Lakshmi.

They release their sewage [into your waters], that is how great your devotees are.

Religious, non-religious, saints, and sadhus—all live on your banks Religious, non-religious, saints, and sadhus—all live on your banks We know not why you like them.23

Reiterating his prose, the speaker argued that ashram residents and religious leaders have thrown out the gods of the sacred Himalayas, only keeping in their prayers Lakshmi, the Goddess of Wealth. “My friends,” he continued, “go and see where their sewer pipe opens up—it probably flows to the Ganga!” Then, pointing me out in a crowd that had grown to nearly a thousand, he added that millions of outsiders come to the

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Author’s translation from the following Hindi transcription: Ki Ganga tera pani amrit

Ki Ganga tera pani amrit --Aisa sab loge kahte hai

Par kisko kitni phikar hai teri, kaun tere hit main rehte hai Aaj teri is bhumi par lakshmi ke adhik pojari hai

Aaj teri is bhumi par lakshmi ke adhik pojari hai Gande nale kiye tere hawale aise tere pojari hai

Dharmi, adharmi, sant, sadhu—sab tujhse tere kinare hai Dharmi, adharmi, sant, sadhu—sab tujhse tere kinare hai Lekin tujhko, najane ma, tujhko kyon ye pyare hai.

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region every year believing it to be paradise. Calling the dams opponents “fakes” who do dirty things in the name of righteous action (dharma) he accused them of ruining the beauty of the land to turn a quick profit from river devotees while they dump wastes and oppose progress in the mountains. Denying affiliation with the companies involved in dam building, he argued for the resumption of two suspended projects, estimated to generate about 1000 megawatts, so that the state could become a “power house” in which the youth would no longer have to “beg” for work.

In this tirade, G.D. Agarwal’s fasts-unto-death to stop the dams were not

forgotten. Recalling the retired professor’s affiliation with a prestigious Indian Institute of Technology in the Indian plains, he lambasted him as a meddling outsider. “He is from Kanpur, friends. Kanpur—where the Ganga is the most polluted. And yet he comes here telling us how to treat our Mother!” Mincing no words, the speaker accused Professor Agarwal of misleading the hill women to incite protest for his own selfish pursuit of fame and recognition. This was followed with accusations of corruption and bribery among the anti-dam activists that the speaker made a special point to call out, in some instances erroneously, by name.

Many took the podium to continue in this vein. One representative of a cadre of dam-employed youth posed a question that roused the crowd. “It is said that Ganga is everyone’s mother, that she gives of herself to everyone. Well, I ask you, can’t she also give employment to her children?” To this, a loud round of applause rang out.

Encouraged, the young man added, “The movement for an independent state of

Uttarakhand was made by people ready to sacrifice for the welfare of this great land. I tell you now, that movement will look like nothing compared to the fight we will

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undertake to complete these dams!” This sentiment was met by more applause along with an orchestrated rally cry from the youth cadre. As he left the podium, the young man repeated the parting cry that almost all the other speakers gave: Glory to Mother Ganga! Glory to Uttarakhand! (Jay Ganga Maiya! Jay Uttarakhand!)

When the event turned into a march through the streets of Uttarkashi, I slipped away and through the market’s back alleys to visit Sita, one of the ladies involved in the dam opposition. Although her son Ravi had been to the rally, she had stayed home because she feared she’d make a scene. “If I had been there, I would have spoken up in front of everyone,” she said as she hunted pebbles in a tray of uncooked rice.24 Plucking one up, she thrust it in the direction of the tented grounds and exclaimed, “I would have given them a piece of my mind!” As the rest of us exchanged notes on what was said in the four-hour rally, she begrudgingly listened, evermore intent on her pebble hunt. We observed, among other things, the way concerns over climate change and upstream glacial retreat were glossed over by speakers who claimed that the environmental rhetoric obscured a political game that threatened to obstruct development in the

mountains. Contemplating the proceedings, Ravi giggled, “Sister, did you hear how they ended their speeches? ‘Glory to Ganga’ and all that? They are destroying their mother and praising her at the same time!”

Later, when Ravi mentioned the corruption charges that the dam proponents raised against the activists, Sita decided she had heard enough. “They are saying we take money to stop the dams? Look at us,” she said as she pointed to their simple two-room

24 _{The rice threshing process sometimes chips small rocks off of the mortar. It is thus}

necessary to sort through homegrown and bulk dry rice rations before they are cooked at each meal. Biting unaware on a pebble in a dish of cooked rice can break teeth.

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home, “Where are these funds that we are supposed to be taking?” Shaking her head, she heaved a note of disgust and declared: “Now it is up to Mother Ganga; When the time is right, they’ll get their punishment.” Our eyes went to Sita and we watched her affix a long gaze on an uncooked grain. When her vision narrowed, I remembered the village devta (god) that comes to her and makes proclamations while reading rice kernels. For a brief moment, I waited to see if the devta would turn her utterance into a prediction of things to come. The grain, however, appeared to hold no insight. Dropping it back into the tray, she rose to prepare the evening meal.

Whom does the Ganga serve, how should she be treated, and what impact could dam building have on the river’s Goddess? In the argument of the dam proponents detailed above, the Ganga is a selfless servant of her “children” whose energy-producing potential should be tapped for the benefit of mountain residents. This perspective argues that dam building and hydroelectric production do not harm the river and its Goddess. The dam proponents assert that polluting the river with contaminating elements like human waste and polythene bags is a worse offense than redirecting the Ganga’s flow. They even argued that dam building could save the Ganga from contamination if the river were to be directed through the projects’ tunnels.

What is striking about the discourse of the dam proponents outlined above is the deep concern they express for the Ganga. The speeches at the pro-dam rally were highly affective. The rhetoric of devotion and care for the Ganga drew loud cheers and applause from the audience of Uttarkashi residents and the people from surrounding villages who

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were in attendance. The comments also demonstrated how emotional the topics of employment and development can be. The affect associated with jobs and dams are linked with long-term struggles over livelihoods in the Himalayas. Even though the Ganga is indisputably figured as a Goddess demanding respect, in the cultural or “figured” world presented by the dam proponents, the river also provides a means of regional betterment, economic growth, and progress.

Figured Worlds and the Importance of Flow

In this chapter, I examine the multiple positions and meanings directed towards the Ganga in order to illustrate the ways that distinct yet in-dialogue “figured worlds” influence debates about the river’s management. An important component of social practice theory as conceptualized by Holland et al. (1998), figured worlds are the terrains in which historical subjectivities, socio-cultural processes, and individual positionalities come together dialogically to influence identity and agency (40-41). I focus on figured worlds when examining the various discourses about the Ganga’s use in order to demonstrate the circulating contexts for meaning, cultural production, action, dispute mediation, and self-understanding that these worlds help produce (ibid.: 60).

Although figured worlds are collectively imagined and improvisational, they also “happen” and are tangible to their participants (ibid.: 55). This is because the figurings that these worlds evoke are meaningful for the actors in those worlds and the meanings that are produced motivate action. Examples of the tangible effects that figured worlds can have include the way that the behavior of young college women is influenced by figurings about the importance of being attractive on college campuses (Holland and

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Eisenhart 1990) or the ways that the cultural world of witchcraft in France has physical, personal, and social consequences for the actors that are construed as being part of it (Favret-Saada 1980). My discussion of the figured worlds that are brought in dialogue about the Ganga’s worth and its management begins from the understanding that the worlds presented to me are valid and meaningful for my consultants.

In this chapter, I emphasize the influence of different figured worlds on ideas about the movement and flow of the Ganga’s waters as they are expressed in the district capital of Uttarkashi. The district capital is a meeting point for villages in the area, it houses the administrative offices of the region, and it was a locus for dam proponents and opponents to gather and express their views on the contested hydroelectric projects. The people that gather in Uttarkashi to promote or protest development in the region come from various geographical locations within India. To reduce the potential for confusion, this chapter focuses on the views presented by people from Uttarkashi and its environs. The following chapter addresses the influence of regional actors who move in and out of places like Uttarkashi in their efforts to address the Ganga’s management.

Some of the discourses that I draw from are taken from meetings that I attended and interviews that I conducted in Uttarkashi. Others are taken from text and media. When pertinent, I highlight the use of stories in these venues because I find them rich in epistemological and ontological significance.25 Stories, I believe, are particularly potent sites to explore the presentations of history and “myth” that are offered in relation to the Ganga and the Bhagirathi Ganga in particular. These renderings are intelligible when we

25 _{I use the word ontology to refer to positional ways of beingand dwelling. This includes}

the related knowledges, concepts, and orientations towards other humans and non-human entities that arise from various modalities of perceiving and existing in the world.

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listen with an ear for “different stories” that point to the diverse beliefs, practices, and knowledges that may or may not challenge dominant epistemologies, or ways of knowing, and ontologies, or ways of being in and interacting with the world (Blaser 2010; Cruikshank 2005: 259).26

Approaching the Ganga: Some Cautions

Being open to epistemological and ontological difference was not always an easy task for me. As an American-born citizen and researcher working in South Asia, I was sometimes challenged by the different ways of knowing and expressing knowledge about the Ganga. The cultural frames that posit a mother and life giver in the form of a river are not easy for non-Indians to grasp. Bolitho (2008) describes the conundrum of the curious foreigner in Varanasi, India attempting to understand everything that the river is and does. After living along the river’s banks and witnessing countless acts of worship and defilement, she asks herself, “What does it mean to say Ganga Ma—Mother Ganges?” This questioning takes her inward, to her own cultural constraints. Pondering this, she evaluates her own thoughts and attitudes: “I reflected on how many people addressed me as ‘Ma’ [Mother] in India, in respect, in hope that I would see their need, and in

traditional greeting. Yet it was outside my cultural tradition, and my usual understandings and knowings, to call a river Mother” (400). It is one step, as Bolitho ponders, to move

26 _{Blaser (2010) thinks of ontologies as: a) ways of understanding the world that make}

assumptions about the kinds of things that do or can exist including their conditions of existence and relations of dependency; b) shaped through the practices and interactions of both human and non-humans; and c) connections between practices, “myths”, and stories. Blaser cautions that while stories are a good entry point to an ontology we must also attend to the ways in which those stories are embodied and enacted. Ontologies must be understood as total enactments involving discursive and non-discursive aspects.

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from calling the river ‘it’ to equating it with feminine pronouns. It is another altogether to conceptualize a literal mother in the river’s murky and polluted waters. Bolitho’s

confrontations with her own socialization lead her to reflect on the work of Chakrabarty (2000) whose writings expose the fuzzy boundaries of European modernity in India and beyond.

The problem with much of the postcolonial scholarship, Chakrabarty argued, is that western secular assumptions lead us to assert that, “the human is ontologically singular, that gods and spirits are in the end ‘social facts’” (Chakrabarty 2000: 16). And yet, the “non-rational” (gods and spirits) have never been banished from history because they inevitably reappear when history confronts the “multi-cultural”. Paraphrasing his work, Bolitho writes, “This challenges the assumption that runs through modern

European political thought and social sciences, that one can think about social modernity in terms of a singular human consciousness. If our intellectual consciousness is born solely out of modern western rational analysis and observational procedures, Chakrabarty contends, we are in a predicament when it comes to speaking of practices within a

participative, lived, pre-analytic cultural experience” (402). The trouble that arises in the translation of “Ganga Ma”, therefore, is that we falter in our ability to convey the cultural experience (and the figured world) that the term conveys.

Even though I may have struggled to understand exactly what it meant for people to call the Ganga a Mother, I was at least prepared to honor the cultural framings and figured worlds that they presented to me. I was less equipped, however, to manage the ambiguity and seeming contradictions that I found when I engaged with people straddling various sides of the development debate. Admittedly, the framings given by those arguing

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in favor of dam building were the hardest for me handle sympathetically. This was