This story was published as part of Outlook's 1 November, 2024 magazine issue titled 'Bittersweet Symphony'. To read more stories from the issue, click here
The death of a human being, be it a common man or a celebrity, is always sad. Ratan Tata, the well-known industrialist, is no different in this episode. Without doubt, his demise is a sad event and a huge loss for the country. But is there any justification for his anointment by the capital-intoxicated intellectuals, politicians, business class, media and middle class as a “philanthropic saint”? The newspapers carry eulogistic columns, special reports fill the TV channels, and social media is flooded with encomia. The general view seems to be that there was no other industrialist in the country who was so humble, kind, charitable, caring and people-loving as Ratan Tata. None had his concern for the growth of the country’s economy, the well-being of the employees and the improvement of the lives of the poor.
The most surprising aspect of these tributes that have been pouring in from all quarters is that they have no mention of the Adivasis. Can any account of Tata be complete without them? What, then, explains this glaring exclusion? Are there apprehensions that talking about the Adivasis would expose Tata’s real face? But without the Adivasis, could the Tatas have built such a vast business empire in the first place? Posed differently, the question is: why is it necessary to talk about the Adivasis while talking about Ratan Tata?
Without a sliver of doubt, the tale of Tata, the man as well as the group, cannot be told without bringing in the Adivasis—the roots of the Tata empire lie in tribal land. Can anyone deny this? Everyone knows that industrialist Jamsetji Nusserwanji Tata had a great dream to establish a modern iron and steel company in India. Accordingly, in 1907, his son Dorabji Tata established the Tata Iron and Steel Company Limited (TISCO). Tata Steel and Tata Power were established under an integrated steel plant in a village named Kalimati in East Singhbhum, Jharkhand. Tribal activists allege that 24 villages belonging to the Bhumij, Ho and Santhal Adivasis were taken over for these projects. It is alleged that the company established Jamshedpur on this Adivasi land and filled it with outsiders.
Despite Jamshedpur falling under a Scheduled Area, its Lok Sabha and assembly seats were made general on the basis of its population. Today, the Bharatiya Janata Party loves to raise the alarm over “Bangladeshi infiltrators” and “demography change” in Jharkhand, but its leaders do not talk about the demographic change in Jamshedpur because these very outsiders are their prime voters. The leaders elected from both the East and West Assembly seats of Jamshedpur are from other states. The political marginalisation of the Adivasis in these areas is so complete that they are not even in a position to become ward members.
Without doubt, the tale of Tata, the man as well as the group, cannot be told without bringing in the Adivasis—the roots of the Tata empire lie in tribal land.
In 2007, speaking at a function to celebrate the centenary year of Tata Steel, then prime minister, Manmohan Singh, hailed the company as a model of industrial development in the country. But a fundamental question is: where are the Adivasis in this “development model” planted on Adivasi lands? The truth is that the Tata company has pushed them to near non-existence in Jamshedpur. Over these 100 years, the Adivasis lost everything and dwindled from 95 per cent of the population to an insignificant five per cent, a decline clearly visible in the 2011 census report.
But the matter does not end there. In 1927, TISCO displaced the Adivasis of three villages—Chirubeda, Balijor and Kodta—in order to begin mining operations in the Noamundi hill of the Saranda forest region, allege tribal activists. There is a sacred grove called “Deshavali”, the Ho Adivasis’ place of worship, where their god, Marang Buru, is believed to reside. Given this belief, even plucking of a single leaf from the Sal trees is beyond the pale for the Adivasis. But it is alleged that the Tatas took over Deshavali as well. In 2012, bowing to protests by the Adivasis, the company opened the gates to them, with conditions: the Adivasis could now enter Deshavali once a year to worship. Is it even conceivable that the company would mete out a similar treatment to the followers of any other religion? Tata Steel earns billions from mining the 1,160.06 hectares in Noamundi, allegedly without paying the price, while the Adivasis are left holding the short end of the stick.
The real face of the Tata group can also be seen in the steel plant established on Adivasi land in Kalinganagar, Odisha. The acquisition of land for the proposed project led, on January 2, 2006, to a direct clash between the police and the Adivasis. Surrounding the project site, 300 security personnel blasted landmines and opened fire on the protesters. According to reports, 12 people died on the spot and about 60 more were badly injured. Tribal activists allege that when the bodies were handed over to the relatives after post-mortem, it was found that some female bodies had had their breasts cut off while some others were missing their hands. These heinous acts incensed the public even further. Meanwhile, seven people died in the hospital during treatment. Thus, a total of 19 Adivasis were killed in the Kalinganagar police firing.
After this incident, the agitation intensified and the road from Kalinganagar to Paradeep was closed indefinitely. The blockade lasted for 14 months. But the Tatas did not withdraw the project. Activists allege that there was state violence, repression and atrocities on the Adivasis to acquire the land for the Tatas. Eight Adivasi activists were imprisoned and five were declared Maoists and prosecuted. The police would pick up the agitators from anywhere, be it from the market, home or pond. In this manner, 120 Adivasis were put in jail. Ultimately, 6,000 Adivasis from 13 villages were displaced in the process of setting up the new Tata plant. Why did the Tatas, who set up a “model of industrial development”, not set up, at the same time, a model for the rehabilitation of the displaced people? How many trees did the group, which destroyed forests in the name of development, plant in the country for environmental health?
(Translated by Kaushika Draavid; views expressed are personal)
Gladson Dungdung is a Ranchi-based adivasi activist, researcher and author of two dozen books
(This appeared in the print as 'Philanthropic Saint?')
