On August 9, a signboard appeared outside the Nanachi gate of Karnataka’s Nagarahole Tiger Reserve. It read simply: “You are entering our ancestral land, respect it.” The board, put up by Adivasi residents of Virajpet taluk in Kodagu district, coincided with World Indigenous Day. Its message was clear—an assertion of rights over land and forests, and a reminder of the state’s failure to uphold the Forest Rights Act (FRA).
FRA and its contested ground
The Forest Rights Act, 2006—effective from December 31, 2007—recognises both individual and community rights for Scheduled Tribes (ST) and Other Traditional Forest Dwellers (OTFDs). These include the right to live and cultivate within forests, collect minor forest produce, graze livestock, and use water bodies. A third category grants overlapping rights to individuals and communities together.
Yet, implementation remains fraught. A landmark case—Wildlife First v. Union of India—is pending before the Supreme Court, questioning the FRA’s validity and its relationship with other legislations like the Wildlife (Protection) Act, 1972, and the Forest (Conservation) Act, 1980. Hearings have been repeatedly adjourned, with the next one tentatively scheduled for October 14. The verdict could shape the future of forest governance across India.
Karnataka’s troubling record
Karnataka’s handling of the FRA reflects deep flaws. In Nagarahole National Park and Tiger Reserve, Adivasi groups such as the Jenu Kuruba, Betta Kuruba, Kurumba, and Yerava face persistent threats of eviction and inadequate rehabilitation. Instead of strengthening their rights, eco-tourism and conservation policies have intensified conflict—undermining both communities and biodiversity.
Forced evictions, often justified in the name of conservation, violate international standards. The United Nations Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights defines forced eviction as the removal of people against their will without proper legal or protective measures. Yet, displacements in Nagarahole and elsewhere continue without fair rehabilitation.
Data underscores this crisis. Union Minister of State for Tribal Affairs Durgadas Uikey recently revealed that Karnataka received 2,89,236 Individual Forest Rights (IFR) claims. Of these, 15,772 remain pending, while an alarming 89.23% have been rejected. In Kodagu and Mysuru districts, rejection rates stand at 43.48% and 73.55% respectively.
Development pressures in the Western Ghats
Beyond conservation, large-scale projects pose additional threats. The Goa-Tamnar Transmission Project, Sharavathi Pumped Storage Project, and the Hubli-Ankola railway line represent just a few examples where development intrudes into ecologically sensitive zones. Similarly, proposals like the Sakleshpur land conversion and Kaiga Atomic Power Plant expansion raise fundamental questions about the nature of “development” being pursued.
Local protests in Nagarahole highlight these concerns. Communities are not opposed to development per se—but demand that it not come at the cost of forests, ecological balance, and their own rights. Projects must answer not only the what (economic benefit) but also the how (participatory or imposed) and why (ecological or purely economic rationale).
Rethinking rehabilitation and governance
Legally, no action should be taken on rejected FRA claims while the case remains before the Supreme Court. Evictions of Adivasis, OTFDs, and Particularly Vulnerable Tribal Groups (PVTGs) violate this principle and erode trust.
For Karnataka, a starting point lies in implementing the Muzaffar Assadi Committee report (2014), which called for participatory rehabilitation, stronger FRA implementation, and enhanced political representation for Adivasis. Independent commissions to re-verify rejected claims, along with functioning FRA cells in all 18 districts, are crucial steps. The Supreme Court itself has encouraged such reviews.
Towards an alternative vision of development
For Adivasi communities, development is not defined by extraction or displacement but by harmony with nature and sustainable livelihoods. Karnataka’s current policies, which reduce rehabilitation to monetary payouts, fall far short. A genuine approach must integrate land, livelihood, and security—and recognise that Adivasi conceptions of development offer valuable alternatives to the prevailing neo-liberal model.
Only by respecting these perspectives can the state move towards a more just, ecologically balanced, and inclusive vision of development.
