Gorha – the dung cake and its significance

Take some cow dung, some rice husk, some straw and a bucket of water. Knead the cow dung (you can add buffalo dung to it as well) properly with both hands. If the dung is hard, put some water and mix it well. Make a long cylindrical structure out of the mixture measuring to an arm’s length and open it in the middle like you open pods of a pea. Put a handful of straw in between and close the structure, pour a handful of rice husk so that the dung mixture doesn’t stick on your palms and flatten the structure. Make similar structure and arrange them lengthwise in a row, around four to five in a straight line. Now you are ready with your first lot of cow dung cakes, better called gorha in the Terai. Next day, the dung cakes get a little bit harder, hard enough to hold the weight of next round of four to five cakes above them. Then you can pile up another round of fresh cakes on it column-wise if you arranged the ground set row-wise. Continue the same the following day and the days following after till your pile of cakes gain a height of around three feet. After a months’ soaking in sun, the cakes get ready to be used.

Dung cake varieties
While gorha is the regular dung cake, chipri is the smaller version of the dung cakes. Usually ones who don’t have cattle of their own collect the dung from grazing fields and make small round patches of dung cakes by sticking them to walls for drying. Once dried, the cakes are collected and stored in a dry place for future use. Here, straw is not used and even the rice husk is avoided.

The dried dung collected from the grazing field is simply called goitha. It is ready to use for cooking.

The bigger form of the dung cakes is gorhaini, which is similar to the gorha but is a longer variant measuring even upto five feet. Instead of putting straw in the middle of the cake, jute twigs are used. Rice husk is used as in the gorha. They are not piled as gorha, but are left standing by a wall or fence to dry.

Manifold benefits
The dung cakes are used extensively in cooking along with the timber, hay, dry leaves, bamboo culms and dry twigs in the Terai. In comparison to the other fuelwood, the dung cakes burn longer. That’s why the dung cakes are mixed with other fuelwood while cooking to save the timber. The calorific value of the dung cakes is lower, but as it burns slower, it is preferred for heating rooms in winter and cooking.

The proponents of modern technologies claim that dung cakes produce lots of smoke and ash as residue. The one and only way to minimise the smoke and ash and get more heat is to dry the dung cakes well before burning.

Not long ago, the dung cakes were used to save the fire – and again light when needed, in absence of matchsticks. Thanks to the technology and easily available cheap matchsticks, the dung cakes are no more used for the purpose. However, the poorest ones in rural villages still rely on the dung cakes to ignite fire.

Besides providing more heat and burning for a longer period of time, the dung cakes have another advantage – they work as mosquito repellents as well. The mosquitoes keep away when the dung cakes are burnt.

The ash from the burnt dung cakes are put in the fields as manure. It is also used to wash the utensils. The ash works as a perfect cleaner, replacing the scrubber and washing powder.

I am not sure, how good it is for cleaning teeth, but you can still find few old people in the rural villages who brush their teeth with the ash from the dung cakes and you will be shocked to see their teeth, sparkling like pearls.


Dwindling use
The dung cakes, in spite of the manifold benefits, are accused of causing respiratory diseases. Figures show that the children and women are the worst sufferers and the cause being smoke in the kitchen. However, the smoke can easily be managed with the advent of improved cook stoves. The cook stoves in the rural villages need to be modified to save the women and children from the pulmonary diseases, instead of stopping the use of dung cakes for cooking.

Modern technologies like biogas are slowly replacing the dung cakes. Now the dung is well mixed and hauled in the digester which produces the methane gas and slurry as the by-product. The gas is used for smoke-free cooking and the slurry can be used as a bio-fertiliser in the fields.

As the cooking is hassle-free, smoke free and even the utensils are cleaner, more and more people are opting for the biogas plants. However, as the initial set-up of the biogas digester is expensive, the poor populace has not been able to take the benefits of the modern technology.

In spite of the dwindling use of dung cakes and introduction of incense sticks, you will still find rural people using the chopped pinewood and dung cakes for the daily worship. It is still considered to be more pure form of offering to the Gods. Especially, the cow dung cakes are preferred to other fuelwood and timber while performing the pooja or worship.


Bridge between two major Tharu festivals/rituals
The dung cakes are special in Tharu culture. Two major festivals/rituals celebrated by the Tharus are linked by the dung cake chipri. Tharus make godaha/godahaini (of human form) from the cow dung and leave it for the night in the gahli, the cowshed on the fourth day (Govardhan Pooja) of the Hindu festival Deepawali/Tihar. The next day, the godaha/godahaini is made into a chipri, dried and stored in a safe place.

The same chipri is used to light fire and cook the first grain harvested from the field and offered to the home deity. The ritual is called Neman. It is celebrated in honour of the new harvest and is celebrated in the month of November. Only after celebrating Neman, the Tharus consume the newly harvested grain.

Due to the cultural significance of dung cakes, they will never vanish from the scene though with the modernisation, their use is decreasing. With the declining trend, we at least need to know how to make dung cakes, not just to keep our traditions alive but also to feel proud about it. The bottomline is, gobar, the cow dung is not only holy but also has healing properties!

Sidhara – the colocasia concoction

Can you imagine a concoction of colocasia stem, turmeric, garlic, dried fishes, radish and green chillies? The aroma is pungent, the taste is bitter and still it is one of the delicacies eaten by the Terai dwellers especially indigenous peoples like the Tharus, Danuwars, Musahars and others. Sidhara, as the locals call it, is a dried cake of dried fishes, colocasia stem and turmeric. Radish, green chillies and garlic are added to the cake to enhance the taste. (I have used the term colocasia referring the genus rather than using the particular taro plant, Colocasia esculenta – as species other than esculenta are also used in preparing sidhara.)

Fishes everywhere
During the rainy season, when the fields are awash with rainwater and there is no dearth of water, there are fishes everywhere – of all sizes and all tastes. The people in Terai are seen busy catching fishes through all sorts of traditional equipment – fishing rods, fishing nets, chachh, dhasha and konia which are traditional fish traps laid on the flowing waters between two adjacent fields.

The dhasha is the most popular equipment to trap fishes between the flowing waters in paddy fields. It is made of bamboo culms or jute twigs woven together and as the water flows from one field to another field the fishes are trapped in it.

Indigenous ingredients
The fresh fishes are eaten and the remaining are dried to make sukthi, dried fish to be used during the winter and other seasons. The dried fishes and dried vegetables are saved for times when it is difficult to get fresh fish and vegetables.

The Dedhna and Ponthi varieties are preferred to prepare sidhara. Both the varieties are found in abundance in the paddy fields and public water sources. The dedhnas are one of the smallest varieties of edible fishes and can be eaten with its tender bones. They vary in sizes between half an inch to one and half inch in length (so the name Dedhna – meaning one and half). The second variety ponthi is a little bit bigger and wider than the Dedhna and it too can be eaten with its bones.

Colocasia is found in abundance in the swampy places, ditches and nowadays even cultivated in the kitchen gardens. The leaves are eaten separately and the stems are used either for the sidhara or dried after being cut into small pieces. The dried colocasia is eaten in the winter and rainy seasons when there is dearth of fresh vegetables.

The dried fishes, together with the colocasia stem and turmeric powder is ground and made into small cakes. The cakes are left to dry in the sun for 10-15 days and after that it is stored in a dry place for future use.

Food value
Dried fish is very rich source of protein, containing 80-85% protein. Researches have shown that some compounds in turmeric have anti-fungal and anti-bacterial properties. Besides being used as a colouring agent in key dishes, it enhances the taste and has medicinal properties as well. Colocasia is eaten widely in the Indian subcontinent. The extra additions – green chillies, radish and garlic enhance the taste, reduce the odour and are good for health.

Pungent aroma and bitter taste
The pungent aroma of sidhara is an open invitation to the neighbours to come and join the delicious dish. When the sidhara cake is crushed and fried in mustard oil before adding other ingredients, the acrid smell spreads in the surrounding and the word spreads that sidhara is being cooked.

Green chillies, radish, garlic and spices are added to enhance the taste. The mixture is cooked as a curry and is bitter in taste but delicious when eaten with beaten or puffed rice.

Next time you visit the Terai, ask for the colocasia concoction and I am sure your taste buds will be delighted to savour the traditional food!

Excuse me, it’s escargot!

When I first sucked out the snail from its shell, it nearly blew away my breath! Then as advised, I kept my lips closer to the opening of the shell, made it air tight and the snail, in a second, was inside my mouth. As it was the first time, the taste was somewhat awkward for my taste buds. However, as I kept on eating one after another – it became tastier with each gulp. The soup thickened with the ground linseed was more delicious than any soup I had ever tasted.

In spite of being born in Terai, I had restrained myself from eating the delicacy called snail. Partly, it was also the look of the dish that kept me away from savouring the recipe my kith and kin had been partaking for such a long time.

Frankly speaking, I was drawn to eating snails only after I saw the French eating snails as delicacy. When I was offered escargots, as they call it, I had to gulp down few pieces without even chewing. Then slowly I started liking it. When I compared it with the snails cooked in our villages in Terai, I could feel the difference. The French culinary is fabulous and you need not suck the snail out of its shell. However, the Terai dwellers have not been able to modernise the recipes.

Having high protein content
Had changes been made in the recipes, the delicious snails would have been one of the major delicacies along with the momos and chowmeins which have been imported from China. In fact the snails have higher calories and more protein than the red meat, fish and legumes. A research conducted by Ranju Rani Karn and Jeevan Shrestha from Tribhuvan University states that the protein content in “ghonghi” Bellamya bengalensis (local name for water snail) is 57.5 per cent which surpasses all other food items like cereals, pulses, meat and eggs. The protein value of apple snails Pomacea haustrum is reported to be relatively high at 72.9 per cent. In practice it means that out of 100 gram of snail protein, 72.9 gram human body proteins can be made.

Glut of ghonghi
When the paddy season is on the full swing and people are busy planting rice in the Terai region, the paddy fields, ponds, river streams, all have plenty of snails. This is the season you will find loads of snails kept to be sold in the weekly haats (makeshift marketplace) in the Terai.

You will see women and children busy collecting snails from the public water sources. The collected snails are then left overnight in a vessel to get rid of the soil and waste inside the snail shells. The next morning, the tails are cut so that when cooked it is easier to suck the meat out of the shell.

The snails are then boiled and cooked like regular curries, but the most essential part is the addition of ground linseed which not only makes the gravy thicker but also enhances the taste. The snails are eaten as delicacy along with rice. The combination of rice and snails had been a staple food for ages for the indigenous people in the Terai.

Traditional beliefs
It is believed that snail meat provided the immunity power to the indigenous people like Tharus, Botes, Majhis, Danuwars to fight against malaria when they were the only inhabitants in the densely forested Terai.

In the Tharu communities, the old people with broken bones were suggested to eat snails. The Tharus believe that snails build stronger bones. Eating snails clears the bowel movement and helps keeping the eater healthy. In the past, snails were offered to pregnant women as protein supplement.

In the Terai, still mired in superstitions, the snail is considered a witch’s weapon. If you happen to eat a snail smeared with vermilion, you will die within the span fixed by the witch (a superstition that I abhor). It is believed there are no medications for diseases caused by “jog” (the vermillion smeared snail).

Need to conserve snails
In spite of such superstitions, snail eating is gaining more popularity among the poor people, as it is a cheap and easily found source of protein. Slowly the snail is becoming favourite also among others apart from the traditional eaters like Tharu, Rajbanshi, Santhal, Jhangad, Bote, Musahar etc. However, the overharvesting of snails from the water sources has led to the near extinction of the varieties in high demand.

The rapid urbanisation has not only led to the encroachment of public ponds but has also polluted and dried the water sources which directly affects the snail population. The rampant use of pesticides in the paddy fields is another factor depleting the snail population. The commercial fish farming in the village ponds has also contributed to the vanishing of snails.

These days when I suck the juice out of the snail, it feels like I am also one of the reasons behind the extinction of some water snails which are in high demand in the Terai. However, looking at the brighter side, I ponder modernising the snail recipes and popularising them among the Gen-Y.

Will you eat snails after reading this? Just consider them escargots and you will relish the recipe!

Unprincipled peace

By Gyanu Adhikari (Courtesy: The Kathmandu Post)

There was a time when the Maoist party argued that land, the precious commodity of feudal Nepal, was the most unfairly distributed asset in the country. During their “protracted civil war,” the Maoists forcibly seized land from many comparatively richer landowners all over the country and said that they were handing it over to the landless. They attacked the Land Revenue Office in many districts, seized the land ownership certificates (ironically called Lal Purja, the Red Certificate) and burned them. The justification for this war on landowners was that the feudal land arrangements were deeply unjust and that Nepal needed “scientific land reform”. The justice argument (Jasko jot usko pot) was supported by the economic efficiency argument — Adhiya farming was also unproductive since the incentives for the farmer did not exactly match that of the landowners.

Land was an issue that resonated with many Maoist supporters. For example, the Tharus of Dang believed that their land was unfairly usurped by the Pahadiyas, the hill people who migrated down south. Supported by a state that favoured them, the Pahadiyas accumulated more land than they could farm. Many Tharus became peasants who toiled in lands that once belonged to them. The new power balance was humiliating. Tharu girls were forced to become servants at the landlords’ houses in order to secure the man’s favour, for the landlords big and small, fearing the selectively implemented tenant rights (mohiyani granted the farmers a stake in the land they worked on, so the landlords changed their tenants once every few years).

The land issue reached tragic heights when the Maoists decided to take on the then Royal Nepal Army with their attack on the Army barracks in Dang. But in order to fully grasp the story, a little bit of political history is required. The Tharus are the biggest voting block in Dang. Fooled by the communist land reform propaganda, they have, till date, overwhelmingly favoured the radicals among the left parties. During the 1980s, they gave shelter to various underground communists. After the democratic reforms of 1990, they voted for the CPN(UML), the then radical party whose leaders had been selling them the dreams of land reform throughout their underground years in exchange for free shelter.

The Army suspected that the core Maoist support in Dang came from the Tharus, especially since the Maoists had been issuing “revolutionary” orders which would allot two thirds of harvest to the farmer, instead of the previous arrangement of dividing it equally. In the aftermath of the Maoist attack on the Army’s barracks in the district headquarters, revenge-hungry Army soldiers in civilian dress found an easy way to identify Maoist supporters: the Tharus who wanted two-thirds of the harvest. One horrifying morning, the Army team in civilian dress gunned down 11 Tharus from a single village. And this particular case of human rights abuse, among others, are kept alive today by the very NGOs that the leader of the Maoist-led government has accused of “sowing conflict to harvest dollars.” It’s sophistry: In the strange land that the Maoist establishment thrives in, the initiators of the decade-long bloody civil war blame with an indignant face, the human rights defenders of sowing conflict.

Today, of course, the Maoists (at least the establishment faction lead by PM Baburam Bhattarai and Pushpa Kamal Dahal) have made a u-turn on the land issue by agreeing to return all land the Maoist party seized during the war — without the state making a provision for the genuinely landless peasants or an alternative initiative for land reform. The issue, most likely, will fade into oblivion, but the resentment of those deceived is sure to linger. At the same time, the Maoist establishment has explained its decision by invoking the need for compromise to expedite the peace process. Since returning seized property has been the long-held demand of the Nepali Congress and the CPN(UML), this explanation, although incomplete, is believable. But the fact remains that the politics over land is an example of communists’ (especially the CPN(UML) and the Maoist) hypocrisy.

Land is not the only issue that has fallen victim to unprincipled politics. Five years after the signing of the Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA), it’s amazing to see how selectively it is interpreted. Important clauses related to ending feudal land ownership, land reform and the democratising the Nepal Army, which includes determining the right number of personnel in the Nepal Army, appear to have been sacrificed, ostensibly to achieve a consensus among the parties. And the ugly thing about consensus is that although it sounds pleasing to the ear, it is more about sharing power (and the national treasury) than about social justice and social transformation envisioned by past struggles and agreements.

When you think of the 11 Tharu farmers in Dang (and countless others in the proposed Tharuhat region) gunned down for asking too much from their landlords, it’s clear that they’ll be punished twice for buying into the communist propaganda. First, the dream of land reform never materialised. Second, the prospect of justice for those who were summarily executed look bleak. PM Bhattarai, having shut down the UN Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights, is advocating a “forgive and forget” philosophy. If he and his men get their way, one of the biggest commitments of the CPA — the formation of a truth and reconciliation commission and the commission for the disappeared — are sure to be rendered toothless in punishing the violaters of even the grossest of human rights abuses.

About a month ago, PM Bhattarai told the media that he was “sacrificing personal principles for the sake of the peace process.” This significant line leads to a natural question, just what kind of peace do you expect from leaders without principles?

The Tharus of the Terai : A walk into their home

By Pat Kauba (courtesy: ECS)

What if I told you that within the deepest Terai jungles, amongst the inhospitable swarms of mosquitoes and ants, between the tigers and rhinos, live a tribe, a community of people who first appear to have little, but on further inspection, probably have more than the rest of the world could ever dream of?

Who am I talking about? The Tharus of the Terai – another thread in Nepal’s complicated ethnic lining and patchwork. The natural jungle people of the plains, secluded away for centuries until the jungles were no longer safe from outsiders.

Inside the home is where the Tharu culture is the strongest with the home of Keshu Chaudari a prime example. What you would not guess looking at its wattle and daub walls is that within this “simple” home, 32 people share their lives together. The family spans for generations, from himself, the eldest at 70, to Rita Chaudari, the youngest, his great-granddaughter, still a babe in her mother’s arms.

Keshu has a piercing eagle’s stare, one that cuts you straight through – most likely honed in the dense and wild Bardia jungles of his childhood. I ask how he feels about living with all his family. He says that he could see it as nothing better. Now in his relaxed winter years, his daily task is caring for the family’s 19 buffaloes and three cows, along with the goats and chickens. He handed over responsibility as family-head to his son a few years back.

In we go
The home (measuring about 30 m long, 8 m high and 11 m wide) sees little sunlight but lots of fresh air – fed through small air holes above ground level, which help to ventilate the home and send cooking smoke outside easily. The first room is large: the full width of the building, and about a fifth of its length. Used as the storeroom for all the family’s rice grown for the year, it is full of colossal mud-built tanks for storage. I turn to the hallway, long, dimly lit, running down the centre of the building. Each side has large rooms, all looking completely bare except for strange bundles hanging from the ceiling. Each family has a room. For example, each of Keshu’s sons has his own room with his wife, children. At night, bundles of bedding are unfolded, and in the morning, they are all rolled back up, keeping the whole place perfectly tidy.

I go back to the hall and, to my astonishment, I notice the walls are actually not walls but compartments for storing more dry goods like lentils, rice and grains for optimal use of space. I enter the last room at the end, about a fifth of the building’s size again, with a small space partitioned to the right behind more storage tanks. The left hand side is where the magic happens... the feeding zone. Here is where one woman is responsible for feeding all the family – three times a day, equaling 96 meals. And, it is all done using just three open fires. I am told of homes further inside the jungle with as many as 90 people living inside them.

The smiles and easy-going nature of the family give a great sense of serenity and togetherness. I ask if they are happy, and the main is response is yes, with lots of, “of course I am, I’m with my family”.

The inner workings
The Tharu family works on quite a formatted principle. The family-head makes the major decisions and acts as the family accountant. Every rupee earned is given to him. Every rupee spent, comes from him. If even an egg is bought, it is entered into a ledger book maintained with records of every single purchase and earning. Crazy you may think, but it makes sense as nobody actually wants for anything and nothing is wasted. The family-head is open to being replaced or can resign if he so desires. When someone wants to leave the family, what he or she is owed and entitled to is 100% understood, right down to the last rupee and length of timber invested.

If a wife wishes to leave her husband for another, there is no problem as long as outstanding debts, if any, are paid to the rupee with little or no animosity afterwards. If a husband dies, the wife will be offered a family member as a new husband, but she has the right to refuse. If she fancies another man outside of the family, that is also fine. Even more astonishingly, the family-head and a delegation will approach the fancied man and ask if he is interested. If he is, he is welcomed into the family, taking the place of he who is gone. As long as ‘the books are balanced’, one is basically free to do as they wish.

It is believed that in modern times, up to 90% of all Tharu marriages are “love” marriages. Animosity is not in their nature. The wedding itself is seen as an agreement – not just a promise. The wedding ceremony is solemnized by tying the bride and groom’s umbilical cords, kept since their births, together.

Not so many
In the Bardia region of south-western Nepal, it is hard not to meet a Tharu. Around the National Park, the Tharu population is assumed to be around 52%. A true jungle tribe, their history and lineage is uncertain. Some say they are a pure ethnic Nepali tribe, while others say they are a mix of Rajputs who fled from the Mongol hordes with their Nepali servants. Regardless, they are an integral and a unique part of Nepal’s social fabric.

Long before the anti-malaria formula DEET was invented and sprayed, taming large swathes of Terai jungle, the Tharus were down here, sticking it out; so much so that these people have evolved their own natural immunity to malaria. The Tharus were a hunter/gatherer society, living off the bounty of the jungles. Today, in the early mornings and evenings, groups of women and girls can be seen going to the rivers to fish, spanning the whole width of some with their nets, providing a little taste of what was before.

There are three tribes of Tharu in the country: the Dagaura Tharu in Bardia, Rana Tharu to the west and Desauri Tharu to the east. Tharus have their own dialect, differing between each tribe. There is no written script, the reason why so little is known about the history of these people. Their religion is predominantly Hindu, but with a few ‘jungle twists’. For example, Vishnu or Ram is referred to as Thakurbaba, or Tharu father. In the home, there is always an ancestral room. Within is offered food, water, incense and other daily items to one’s ancestors. Clay-baked animal motifs like tigers and rhinos are used in place of godly images.

Changes
Sadly, times change. Many of the families are starting to build modern brick homes, or go in search of work and better living conditions outside, away from the jungles of their ancestors that are no longer solely theirs. Since the 1970s, many settlers have come down from the hills. More and more families are splitting up and homes dividing. I wonder as I look at Rita Chaudari if her children and great-grandchildren will be raised in the same fashion. But for those who remain, they find great comfort in the unity of their homes and families.

“By nature men are alike. Through practice they have become far apart.”
Confucius 551-479BC

Pat Kauba is a freelance writer and photographer with a love for the human spirit and its identities. He can be contacted at patkauba@gmail.com.

Coping with DDT

The dreaded three words DDT, an acronym for Dichloro Diphenyl Trichloroethane, has not only been synonymous with the malaria eradication in different parts of the world, but has also been linked with the environmental degradation and cause of diseases which maraud more than malaria. The pesticide has been banned all over the world seeing its negative impacts in the environment and people’s health.

The damage is done
In Nepal and many different places in the world, when DDT was sprayed in the dense jungles, it was welcomed wholeheartedly by the communities. In the 1950s, with the help of WHO/USAID, the Government of Nepal sprayed the DDT all over the dense jungles of Terai, once home to indigenous peoples like Meche, Koche, Jhangar, Darai, Bote, Majhi, Tharus and other tribal groups. Tharus had settled in the malaria infested lands from east to west of Terai and no other people from other parts of Nepal dared to settle in that area.

After the malaria eradication, the ethnic extermination started. The new settlers both from the north and south started flocking in the new land, felling the trees and turning the forests to arable lands. The agrarian Tharus who are known for their honesty and humbleness could not fit in the new process of assimilation.

Assimilation gone wrong
As the migrants from hills and south started pouring in the fertile land, the first and foremost thing they did was to make friends with the old settlers, the Tharus, who had been in that land for thousands of years. Then started the buying, snatching, looting, plundering and marauding of land, whichever synonym you use, it turned the owners of land into slaves at the hands of new settlers. Once rich and prosperous Tharus were turned into bonded labourers in their own land, especially in the far-western region.

The settlement of newcomers could not take the form of “melting pot” model but instead turned into ethnic extermination and cultural destruction. One simplest fact, the current population ratio of the Tharus in Chitwan shows the mass extermination. Prior to the DDT spray, the population of Tharus in the Chitwan was 90 per cent in comparison to other inhabitants. However, today the situation is just the reverse – the Tharu population is less than 10 per cent of the total population. This clearly shows how once a dominant voice turned to a whimper.

Then took place the cultural destruction – the language saw influence of invading languages, the food habits changed, original Tharu traditional dances started disappearing, the folk songs were replaced by Nepali and Hindi songs and the celebrations during festivals saw a huge leap of modernisation for wrong reasons. It was not a leap towards modernisation but towards destruction in true sense. Now the same new settlers claim that Tharus don’t have their own language and culture, they have borrowed and followed their (new settlers’) languages and cultures. How can one tribe sustain and survive without language and culture for thousands of years?

Dangerous Dose to Tharus
Once in a seminar, I heard the famous activist and researcher Dr. Krishna Bhattachan saying, “DDT is not the Dichloro Diphenyl Trichloroethane but a Dangerous Dose to Tharus.” He says only mosquitoes and Tharus lived in the dense Terai jungles before the DDT spraying. As a result of DDT spraying, the mosquitoes were gone and so were the Tharus. Tharu activists love this connotation and many are seen using it in their speeches.

The lack of awareness towards their rights and lack of unity among themselves have costed the Tharus their homeland. The malaria immune Tharus now have realised how they have turned foreigners in their own land and how people are claiming their (Tharus’) land as their (new settlers’) own. DDT is just one of the perpetrators of the Tharu exodus.

State monopoly and ILO 169
The state is to blame to a large extent. The planned resettlement of hill farmers went awry in many places leading to misbehaviour, nepotism and patronage. The settlement was just a socio-political strategy to relocate the discontented elements. A Burmese of Nepali origin who is settled in Nawalparasi district says, “People migrate due to mainly three reasons – when they face difficulties, when they are displaced by natural calamities and when they are termed as anti-social elements.” The state wanted to mainly address the three categories of people as described by the Burmese man. It was not meant for easing the population in the hills, creating a regional balance in distribution of population and resources and promoting the agragrian development strategy as mentioned in the documents. It was a one-sided, state sponsored looting of the natural resources from the hands of original inhabitants. The local people were never asked before implementing any of the relocation plans and so-called development strategies.

It is against the spirit of the Convention on Indigenous and Tribal Peoples (No. 169) that was ratified by the Nepalese Parliament on 22 August 2007. The Convention No. 169 supports the principle of self-management and guarantees the right of the indigenous people to consultation and participation in issues relating to their own development. It guarantees their right to equal treatment and access to services and also includes land specific provisions for protecting and promoting indigenous and tribal peoples’ culture and communities. Among other aspects, it protects the right to practice traditional economies, to traditional land and resources and to use indigenous language in education.

The way forward
Nepal is notorious in signing the international treaties and shying away from abiding by them. Nepal became the first South Asian country to ratify the ILO convention No. 169 and the second country in whole of Asia to do so. However, in practice, still the state holds the monopoly. Now the time has come to plan meticulously and involve all local inhabitants in the process for the long term sustainable development of the communities and the country. The times have changed and now the local people won’t just look as mere spectators while the state is doing all sorts of unequal treatments.

It is high time to realise the “melting pot” modality where all the communities shall leave in peace and harmony with each other. However, the state should be conscious that while providing certain community with rights and privilege, it should not encroach upon the rights of other communities.

The Barghar System and traditional governance among Tharus

The research was conducted by Raja Ram Chaudhary (Courtesy: United Nations Resident and Humanitarian Coordinator's Office)

Background
Before the advent of the modern state, communities all over the world developed their indigenous institutions and governance mechanisms. The Tharus in the Tarai region of Nepal call this the barghar system, a local governance institution with a traditional head and staff. This village leadership is selected during the Tharu Maghi (or New Year) festival in Magh (mid-January), when the festival calendar is also decided and development priorities are agreed. The traditional Tharu leader, called a barghar, is either selected by consensus or elected by villagers for a year term. Barghars are also known as mahatawa in Dang and Surkhet and bargharia or bhalmansa in Kailali, Kanchanpur, Bardiya and Banke. A form of mahatawa also exists among Tharu in the eastern and central regions but is less established and adhered to than in the west. The traditional Tharu village leadership comprises the barghar (head), likhandariya (secretary), guruwa (priest), kesauka (assistant priest), and chaukidar or chirakia (a person responsible for assembling people and disseminating information). The barghar also appoints a person responsible for repairing homemade tools who is typically from the lohara - a hill dalit caste. The barghar’s position is voluntary whereas villagers pay paddy to the others to acknowledge their services.

Traditional roles and responsibilities of Barghars
Over the generations, the Tharu community has developed the barghar system and their lives have evolved around it. The traditional roles of barghars include coordinating with community members to identify and prioritise community development needs or activities and to manage community labour (and, to a lesser degree, material) inputs into projects such as road repair or construction of irrigation canals. Priority is given to utilising the labour of the community while seeking other resources, such as financing or materials, from local authorities and NGOs.

Traditionally, barghars also perform the role of adjudicator of community disputes and issue decisions and verdicts, generally with community consultation. According to a barghar in Bardiya district, typical cases and disputes that are resolved by barghars include disputes on the use of natural resources (irrigation channels, forestry products, etc.), disputes between family members or with outsiders, and some forms of domestic violence. However, criminal cases are referred to the formal judicial system. Persons interviewed felt that most Tharu community members viewed the verdicts as fair and acceptable and considered the practice to be efficient as it is free of cost and without the delays of the formal judicial system.

However, local community based and civil society organisations stated that there might be drawbacks within the system with regard to cases brought by women (as the barghar system is traditionally male-dominated), or where the barghar’s own family members were concerned.

Other functions are to determine the festival calendar and perform rituals. They lead the selection of persons with religious responsibilities and coordinate traditional rituals and poojas (worship). They also manage and facilitate Tharu festivals, dances and marriage ceremonies.

Efforts to institutionalise the Barghar System
Barghars started to unite and form networks at different levels to seek recognition of their role. They claim the practice is an example of good governance and self governance, and that it contributes to local development, peace building and the rule of law.

The first national barghar conference was held in Bardiya in December 2010, and issued a manifesto with 19 demands (see box below). In addition, the conference formed a central committee - comprising 31 members - that met on June 2nd, 2011 in Dang and formed the Federation of Barghar, Bhalmansa and Mahatawa. The meeting emphasised that budgets should be allocated for the promotion of Tharu culture and self governance at DDC level and recommended that budgets to develop and promote Tharu culture be incorporated in the Government of Nepal (GoN) national plan (or “Red Book”) under the Ministry of Culture after endorsement by Tharu traditional leaders. It further stipulated that 25% of revenue generated from natural resources be provided to Tharus in districts where they form a majority. The committee decided to continue its symbolic protest program to pressure the government and political parties through activities such as workshops, peaceful protests and mass meetings, but that it will not engage in bandhs, blockades and strikes. This decision is, however, not necessarily shared by other Tharu organisations.

Networks among barghars at district and VDC level have been formed since the conference last December, and barghars have requested the system be acknowledged and their role and participation in government structures be strengthened. This has been stimulated in part by various Tharu leaders and organisations that have sought to engage with the barghar system through, for example, organising dialogues and trainings. Combined, they have intensified the debate on the barghar system through discussion and interactions with government, civil society and political parties. Additionally, with the democratic struggle still evolving to define the rights of individuals and state structures, political and other interest groups are competing to establish their supremacy within the existing political system, in part by trying to co-opt traditional institutions like the barghar system.

In a meeting organised by NEFIN with barghars, NGOs, intellectuals and media in Jhalari VDC, Kanchanpur, in May 2011, one Tharu organisation representative claimed that the barghar system became weak after 1990. Some believe this is a result of government policies such as the Local Self Governance Act (LSGA) that did not acknowledge or provide a role for traditional governance mechanisms. This is often the case throughout the world as indigenous governance systems are increasingly replaced by state institutions.

Barghars and other actors in the community
Barghars stress that they should be consulted for any development, administrative, or justice issues in their communities. However, local authorities do not acknowledge the barghar system as there are no provisions for it under national law. A barghar interviewed in Kailali noted that they are not heard by government authorities and had faced difficulties in having their role acknowledged when dealing with local police, administrators, and VDC secretaries. A person interviewed in Kailali said that some development partners consult barghars to gather villagers, organise meetings, and facilitate their development and humanitarian efforts within Tharu communities.

Most barghars are Tharu, and their roles are well recognised and their leadership widely accepted in the community. However, a NGO staff working on Tharu issues noted that sometimes the decisions risk to be biased, particularly when the issues are related to their family members or relatives.18 The barghar system is an indigenous Tharu tradition and non-Tharu people rarely participate in barghar selection or any traditional planning process. Issues of concern to non-Tharu groups are generally not brought to the attention of barghars. The system has lost influence over the long term as an increasing number of people from other groups (e.g. Pahadi or Madhesi communities) who do not recognise the barghar leadership have settled in the Tarai. However, more recently, some non-Tharu settlers in the Tarai from hill districts have also adopted the barghar system. One study revealed there are some barghars with hill origins in Kailali district, including persons from the hill Dalit community as well as those from higher castes. However, those interviewed in Kailali noted that barghars with hill origins are very few.

Conclusion
The barghar system is considered by many Tharus as integral to their economic, social, and cultural life. The barghar is responsible for village-wide affairs and their role, particularly in mobilising communities to contribute labour for infrastructure development and in mediating local disputes, is well recognised within the community. This mechanism is said to be vital for internal resource mobilisation. Similarly, the barghar selection process and the planning and decision-making processes he or she leads are viewed by many within the Tharu community as quite participatory and democratic.

As a traditional system it has its adherents, but in many communities in Bardiya and Dang districts other politically driven Tharu organisations and networks are winning over active participation of Tharu youth and seeking to represent the community. This could cause tensions between generations as some youth may be less respectful of barghar leadership or more linked to political or identity based groups. Competing Tharu political groups are also likely to try to strengthen their sway over the community by seeking support from existing barghars, while at the same time maintaining their supremacy in the political arena by establishing their rights to represent the community. Questions also remain about the relationship between barghars and non-Tharu people residing in the same village or community. It is not clear how this system would or does serve people living in the same village who are not Tharus and thus not directly involved in the process.

To some degree and in some areas barghars are participating in and influencing VDC planning and decision making. In recent years, barghars have sought official recognition by the Government as well as a greater role within Government structures. It has been argued that the barghar system is one mechanism that could serve to increase participation among Tharus in democratic processes and thereby increase democratic space during this transition phase in Nepal.


Traditionally, barghars are men
Generally, one barghar is appointed per 20-40 households and performs community leadership, justice and religious roles. Barghars are traditionally male except in a few cases. According to a barghar central committee member, there are currently 4,125barghars across six mostly Tarai districts6 of the Mid and Far Western regions, including 47 females.

Ten years before, only male heads of households participated in selecting barghars and in planning and decision-making processes. However, these days, a significant proportion of women also participate.

The Bhaura Tappa Manifesto 2010
The Barghar National Conference held on 17-19 December 2010 issued a manifesto outlining 19 demands. Key demands include that the new constitution acknowledge the barghar system, including their development coordination and implementation roles. The manifesto seeks to have barghars appointed as ex officio members in DDCs, Municipalities and VDCs based on their population.

The manifesto demands constitutional provisions for affirmative action such as competition for recruitment to be limited to Janjatis (indigenous groups) to ensure easier access to jobs within the security forces, administration, judiciary and education sectors for the marginalised Tharu community and bring them into the mainstream of national development. It also calls for Tharus to have proportional representation in government institutions.

The manifesto demands that a Tharu province be established acknowledging historical and cultural claims. However, the manifesto is mum on any structural framework for the province. It demands the GoN make public the status or whereabouts of Tharu people who went missing during the conflict and to provide compensation, education and employment opportunities to their families.

The manifesto includes demands to end the Kamlari system completely, to implement agreements signed between the GoN and freed Kamaiya regarding their rehabilitation, to allocate budget for the welfare of the Tharu community, and to make constitutional provisions to protect and promote Tharu culture. It calls for implementation of ILO Convention 169. It seeks for work on the Bardiya National Park extension to cease as the Tharus are primary users of the targeted forest land.

Similarly, the demands include to establish a Tharu university, provide free education to freed Kamaiya children up to the higher secondary level and to make provisions for teaching the Tharu language in schools where Tharus form a majority.

The manifesto warns that barghars will be forced to announce a parallel government if their demands are not addressed by the GoN.



A VDC Secretary interviewed in Kailali opined that the barghar system itself is very democratic. The barghar facilitates various events at community level. However, it is not recognised by the Government to date and they are not, therefore, invited officially to meetings or to participate in VDC level planning processes. He also noted that nothing is mentioned in the Local Self Governance Act (LSGA) 1999 regarding such traditional practices. The Secretary was not aware of any barghar demands.

In another case, a Khailad VDC staff member reported that barghars padlocked the VDC office and obstructed the VDC planning process for a week in 2009 demanding representation in the council. Later, the VDC included some of them in council meetings, not as barghars but as community leaders.