An illustration of the Great Lakes region, through which Enbridge Energy’s Lines 3 and 5 carrying tar sands oil flows / credit: Bill Krupinski
Editor’s Note: Members of Toward Freedom‘s Board of Directors are involved in struggles while they serve on TF‘s working board. Board President Rebecca Kemble spent the summer in central Minnesota, where a struggle against pipelines carrying oil derived from Canadian tar sands has taken place. Enbridge Energy is a Canadian multinational corporation running tar sands pipelines through the United States for export because it has not been able to get permission to build them in Canada. However, all of the land through which Enbridge’s Pipeline 3, known as “Line 3,” passes either is 1854 or 1855 Treaty Territory. The Obijwe people ceded the territory to the U.S. government in exchange for the rights to hunt, fish and gather on those lands in perpetuity. Line 3 also plows through hundreds of wild-rice beds. Northern and central Minnesota, as well as northern Wisconsin, are the only places where wild rice grows. The plant is sacred to the Anishinaabe peoples (made up of the Ojibwe, Ottawa and Pottowotami nations) of the Great Lakes region. The U.S. government initiated the 1854 and 1855 treaties to avoid costly military campaigns for land conquest. Since they were written, these treaties have been broken multiple times. In the last several decades, the Ojibwe people have been successfully asserting their treaty rights in federal courts. The White Earth Band of Ojibwe recently sued Minnesota’s Department of Natural Resources for permitting Line 3 and, in so doing, failing to protect the state’s fresh water. Manoomin (wild rice) is named as a plaintiff in that case. (In Ecuador and New Zealand, rivers have been named plaintiffs.) At least 6 active and autonomous “No Line 3” camps have occupied central Minnesota over the past summer. Some have been established as direct-action camps, while others are cultural and educational camps.
Monday, October 12, marked Indigenous People’s Day, which kicked off a series of daily protest actions in Washington, D.C. While U.S. President Joe Biden issued a proclamation Monday affirming Indigenous sovereignty, the federal government continues to allow violations of Indigenous sovereignty, such as in the form of pipeline projects.
For the first time since the 1970s, Indigenous people occupied the U.S. Bureau of Indian Affairs this week in Washington. A group called People vs. Fossil Fuels stated in a press release 130 people were arrested.
Restoration of 110 million acres (450,000 km2) of land taken away from Native Nations
Bring Home Our Children Buried At Your Residential Schools
Restoration of treaty-making (ended by Congress in 1871)
Establishment of a treaty commission to make new treaties (with sovereign Native Nations)
Land Back
Water Back
Honor the Treaties
No new leases for oil and gas or extractive industry on public lands
Free, Prior, and Informed Consent
Reclaim and affirm health, housing, employment, economic development, and education for all Indigenous people
Restoration of terminated rights
Repeal of state jurisdiction on Native Nations
Federal protection for offenses against Indians
Below is a series of photos Rebecca Kemble captured over the summer.
Sunset on the Shell River in 1855 Treaty Territory, now within the U.S. state of Minnesota. The treaty created the Leech Lake and Mille Lacs reservations in northern Minnesota, while ceding territory to the U.S. government but retaining rights to hunt, fish and gather food. The river is home to many plant, mollusk, fish, insect, bird and animal species, including the endangered Higgins’ Eye Pearlymussel and many beds of wild rice. The historic drought of the summer of 2021 reduced the water flow to between 10 percent and 25 percent of its normal rate. As a consequence, it was possible to walk down many miles of the river bed. Enbridge Energy drilled under the river in five locations using Horizontal Directional Drilling methods. Throughout the summer of 2021, Honor the Earth, an Indigenous-led nonprofit that has provided grants to more than 200 Indigenous organizations, sponsored an Anishinaabe culture and education camp at the Shell City Campground on the shores of the Shell River. The Anishinaabe people are indigenous to Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan and Ontario. Over the course of the summer, thousands of people visited the camp, participating in river monitoring and cultural activities, and learning about Anishinaabe culture, history and the 1855 Treaty between the Upper Mississippi Ojibwe and the U.S. government.
Visitors arriving at Shell City Campground learned about 1855 Treaty Territory and their responsibilities under those treaties. Treaties are not just about Indigenous people—they are agreements between sovereign nations and must be upheld on both sides. The U.S. Constitution calls treaties “the supreme law of the land” and the U.S. Supreme Court has upheld the rights of Indigenous people to hunt, fish and gather in territories where treaties have reserved those rights, including 1855 Treaty Territory in central Minnesota. What good is a right to hunt, fish or gather if there is no game, fish or plant food to harvest? This is the basis for opposing extractive industries in Tribal territories: It destroys the basis for practicing Indigenous ways of living.
Rays of the sun seem to pull the canoe forward as a camper returns from an evening paddle.The break in the trees is the Enbridge easement in Wadena County, Minnesota, where Line 3 will cross under the Shell River. The light green vegetation on the water’s edge is a wild-rice bed.The endangered Higgins’ Eye Pearlymussel was found in the Shell River near the Enbridge escarpment. The Minnesota Department of Natural Resources refused to send staff to the river to confirm their existence.Higgins’ Eye Pearlymussel found in the Shell River on the Enbridge easement.University of Minnesota students testing water temperatures in the river above the location where Enbridge installed Line 3.Law enforcement arrived on the Enbridge easement as scientists conducted water monitoring experiments. An easement is the point at which a jurisdiction grants an entity permission to cross. Enbridge has reimbursed Minnesota law-enforcement agencies over $2 million for policing its property over the past year, and it has participated in coordinated trainings and intelligence sharing. Enbridge pipes ready to be welded and trenched into the ground in Wadena County, Minnesota.Honor the Earth applied to the City of Park Rapids, Minnesota, to participate in their Fourth of July parade. The application was denied and it was informed it would be forcibly evicted if it tried to join. Water Protectors with signs, banners and life-sized puppets watched the parade from a side street and joined in at the end. They were followed by police and sheriff cars, but they were not evicted.Mavis Mantila, enrolled member of the Keweenaw Bay Indian Community and public-school teacher, stands by a giant sturgeon puppet during the Park Rapids Fourth of July parade.
Honor the Earth delegation joins a Fourth of July parade in Park Rapids, Minnesota, as police and sheriff cars follow.
Honor the Earth Executive Director and White Earth tribal member Winona LaDuke at the end of the Park Rapids Fourth of July parade.After the parade, water protectors marched to local Enbridge offices in Park Rapids.Park Rapids police guarding Enbridge property. Water protectors were ordered off the property.A sign left behind on the Enbridge entrance’s sign reads, “Who Profit$ Who Dies?”Chelsea Fairbank, completing her Ph.D. in anthropology at the University of Maine, installs an Honoring Water art project at the Shell City Campground in July, 2021. The project is based on her doctoral research that focuses on large-scale fossil-fuel extraction sites, and the peoples impacted in these zones.
Part of the Honoring Water project includes the press release from the 1855 Treaty Authority that announced the White Earth Band of Ojibwe’s formal declaration of the Rights of Manoomin (wild rice) in their territory.Page 2 of the Rights of Manoomin press release.Kiley Knowles (right) of the Obijwe nation and Nova Dakota of Dakota/Tla-o-qui-aht ancestry on a horse named Bud at Shell City Horse Camp.Dakota singer Hoka Wicasa spent the summer teaching songs and ceremonies to Ojibwe youth at the Shell City Horse Camp.Jim Northrup III, a Fond du Lac Ojibwe member, teaching youth how to erect a tipi at the Shell City Horse Camp. Sawyer, 12, tries his hand as a rope runner. Rope running requires walking the rope around tipi poles to secure them together at the top, where the poles meet. This helps create the structure for a tipi, a traditional shelter for Indigenous peoples mainly of the plains and prairies of North America. Sasha Richards leads riders as she carries water through downtown Park Rapids on one leg of the Line 3 Nibi (Water) Walk that began at Lake Superior in Wisconsin and went 359 miles to the Red River in North Dakota. Kiley Knowles carries the staff behind her.Teenagers Kiley, Iris and Sasha ride the Nibi Walk route in Hubbard County, Minnesota.Riders crossing a Line 3 site in Hubbard County, Minnesota.Signs at the camp read, from left to right, “From the Bronx to Shell River: Defend the Sacred,” “Welcome the Lummi Nation” and “Love Water: HonorEarth.org” Banners at Shell City Campground welcoming the House of Tears Carvers from Lummi Nation on their Red Road to DC journey.Honor the Earth Executive Director Winona LaDuke and Board President Oneida tribal member Paul DeMain join House of Tears carver Sit ki kadem and painter Siam’el wit of Lummi Nation on a stop at Shell City Camp. This was part of the Red Road to DC 20th anniversary Totem Pole journey to protect sacred sites.House of Tears Carvers painter Siam’el wit gives Jim Northrup III a blanket at the end of the honoring ceremony at Shell City Camp.Water protectors and Red Road to DC tour denizens at Shell City Camp.White Earth Tribal member and RISE Coalition co-founder Dawn Goodwin (second from right) serves an Enbridge representative with a cease-and-desist order for work on Line 3 under the Mississippi River. The order was from the White Earth Tribal Council. However, Enbridge did not acknowledge it as it wasn’t signed by a U.S. judge. Clearwater County Sheriff Darin Halverson (second from left) flanks the representative while White Earth Tribal Council member Raymond Auginaush, Sr. (center) accompanies Dawn. Dawn and others established Camp Firelight near the headwaters of the Mississippi River at Coffee Pot Landing in Clearwater County, where Enbridge had set up pumping and drilling stations to bore under the river. Pipeline 3 is set to travel under the river, a cause for concern as it violates the sovereignty of Ojibwe people in the 1855 Treaty Territory and could pollute water for 20 million people who live downstream when the pipeline leaks. Pipeline leaks are common in the United States.A confrontation with an Enbridge representative and a county sheriff.Dakota singer Hoka Wicasa sings as youth runners from Standing Rock, Cheyenne River and Lower Brule Lakota-Dakota-Nakota Nations in North and South Dakota approach an Enbridge work site near Camp Firelight. They ran 1,100 miles from Mobridge, South Dakota through North Dakota and along the pipeline route across Minnesota from North Dakota to Wisconsin, stopping at all of the water protector camps across the region. Youth runners count coup on Enbridge at Coffee Pot Landing in Clearwater County, Minnesota. Counting coup is the warrior tradition of winning prestige against an enemy in battle. It involves shaming the enemy, and persuading the enemy to admit defeat without having to kill them. These victories may then be remembered, recorded and recounted as part of the community’s oral, written or pictorial histories.Runners placed a red prayer tie on the barbed wire that surrounds the Enbridge work site. Enbridge workers can be seen in the background.Women of Camp Firelight on the bridge across the Mississippi River awaiting the departure of the youth runners from camp.Pumping station on the shores of the Mississippi River at Coffee Pot Landing in Clearwater County, Minnesota, taking water for Horizontal Directional Drilling activities. The Minnesota DNR permitted Enbridge to withdraw nearly 6 billion gallons of water for pipeline construction and testing activities at the height of a historic drought. They were initially permitted to take 500 million gallons, but later the permit was amended for an additional 5 billion gallons. This was done without consultation with the Tribes. Enbridge easement on the wetland crossing the Mississippi River. Earlier in the summer, thousands of people gathered here and some occupied and held this site for 8 days during the Treaty People Gathering. In the course of the summer, drilling activities produced at least 6 “frac-outs” at this location, which meant drilling fluid spilled into the river and wetlands. Wetlands are a crucial feature of the environment and are home to many species. The photographer’s canine companion, Makwa, and husband, Adam Chern of Madison, Wisconsin, walk on the Mississippi River Bridge near Camp Firelight and Coffee Pot Landing in Clearwater County, Minnesota. The sky is hazy from nearby wildfires caused by record high temperatures and drought. The Camp Firelight kitchen. Many resources were needed to sustain the camp throughout the summer. Much of it was funded by tribal members and camp visitors, as well as from donations.Signs at the camp read, “Honor Treaties” and “Caution: Treaty Rights in Progress.” Enbridge drilling and pumping worksite near Coffee Pot Landing on the Upper Mississippi River.RISE Coalition co-founder Dawn Goodwin sits on the bridge across the Mississippi River awaiting news of the 7 Camp Firelight water protectors who had been arrested while praying on the easement the day before.Seven Camp Firelight arrestees were released from Becker County jail on August 4. RISE Coalition and Camp Firelight co-founder Nancy Beaulieu is second from right. The night before, Clearwater County Sheriff deputies arrested the seven in Clearwater County. They they were transported by a Polk County vehicle, booked into jail in Pennington County system and physically taken to the Becker County jail. More than 900 arrests of water protectors along Line 3 took place in the past year.One of several water meters installed on Park Rapids fire hydrants to serve Enbridge’s water needs. The city of Park Rapids sold 6 million gallons of water to Enbridge for their camp and construction operations. This was done without the knowledge or consent of the Park Rapids City Council or residents. Because of drought conditions, the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources ordered them to halt the sales. One of the many frac-out sites outlined with wooden stakes along Line 3.No Line 3 banner on the Enbridge easement by the Welcome Water Protector Camp on the Mississippi River on Aitkin County, Minnesota.Honor the Earth is focused on building a just transition away from fossil fuels through tribal business development. Winona’s Hemp & Heritage Farm grows hemp and other food, and distributes “pipeline-free” wild rice harvested by Ojibwe people from the region. Akiing 8th Fire Solar is another business started by Honor the Earth as part of its just transition activities. “Black Snake Killer” hand drum resting against a tree at the Martin Luther King Jr. Recreation Center in St. Paul, Minnesota, at the end of the Treaty People Walk for Water. Dozens of walkers departed from Camp Firelight on August 7 and walked 259 miles to St. Paul, arriving on August 25. Walkers were joined by others at the recreation center for the final mile-and-a-half walk to the State Capitol. They marched in silence in honor of the thousands of children’s remains found in residential boarding schools over the summer, and for all missing and murdered Indigenous relatives. Crane puppets flowing silently through the streets of St. Paul.Crane puppets flowing silently through the streets of St. Paul.Hoka Wicasa holds feathers, sage and a hand drum depicting a jaguar eating the heart of a priest in front of a hearse and the Cathedral of Saint Paul at the end of the Treaty People Walk for the Water on August 25. Kaylee Moody and Joe Morales (Yaqui), organizers of the Treaty People Walk for Water, on the final stretch of the 259-mile walk.Ojibwe women Winona LaDuke and Tania Aubid on the Treaty People Walk for Water. Last winter, Winona and Tania established a prayer lodge and the Welcome Water Protector Camp on the shores of the Mississippi River in Aitken County, Minnesota. They have been arrested numerous times protecting the water from Enbridge’s construction activities over the past year. In their defense, they argue their treaty rights to hunt, fish and gather in their territories supercede a foreign oil company’s right to destroy the land and water upon which those rights depend.Dozens of tipis were erected on the Minnesota State Capitol grounds during the week of August 23.In anticipation of Indigenous people arriving on his doorstep, Governor Tim Walz shut down the Minnesota State Capitol for a week and installed concrete barricades and fencing. Hundreds of law enforcement officers patrolled the grounds for that week.Walkers were honored with songs at the Minnesota State Capitol at the conclusion of the Treaty People Walk for Water.Water walkers and other Indigenous elders were honored with blankets at the Minnesota State Capitol at the end of the Treaty People Walk for Water on August 25.Treaty People Walk for Water organizer Joe Morales (Yaqui) embraces fellow water protectors at the conclusion of the 259-mile walk.Medicine Wheel banner depicting Ojibwe sacred foods—wild rice, strawberries and blueberries—at the Minnesota State Capitol after the Treaty People Walk for Water on August 25.
Indigenous cereals and pulses grown by Shakila and Gulab Mullani. Top row from left: Udid (black gram), tur (pigeon pea). Bottom row from left: Kala pavtha (black beans), chavali (black-eyed pea), and kar jondhala (indigenous sorghum) / credit: Sanket Jain
Eighty-eight-year-old Sakharam Gaikwad never anticipated that farming sugarcane would become a bittersweet endeavor.
In 1972, a drought hit the western Indian state of Maharashtra. Considered one of the most devastating disasters of the last century, it affected 20 million people (57 percent of the state’s rural population) and 5.6 million—or 40 percent of—cattle.
The disaster prompted Gaikwad to move in the direction of his fellow villagers toward sugarcane cultivation. At the time, the young farmer had been growing indigenous rice varieties, and a wide collection of nutritious millets, including sorghum, finger millet, pearl millet, and little millet.
Starting in the late 1960s, he began using chemical fertilizers to cultivate hybrid sugarcane and sorghum varieties. Seeing bumper harvests in shorter periods of time, he said, “Farmers abandoned the traditional millets and moved rapidly toward sugarcane.” Year after year—during the 1970s—farmers began cultivating sugarcane in his village of Jambhali until an overwhelming majority were involved with the fast-growing plant.
Everything went well for Gaikwad until climate change disasters started destroying his crops. For instance, a 200 percent increase in rainfall in one week in October destroyed the majority of his sugarcane. In 1.5 acres, he managed to harvest 70 tons. He has noticed a drop over the last five years by almost 50 tons, costing him $1,830 per year.
However, stories like those of Gaikwad are increasing across India, with most farmers moving either toward commercial crops, like soybean and sugarcane, or hybrid varieties of indigenous crops. Last year, India reported producing 500 million metric tons of sugarcane worth 1.18 trillion Indian Rupees ($14.26 billion).
Meanwhile, in 2019, India cultivated 80 percent of traditional and hybrid millet in Asia and 20 percent of the world’s production. Grains like traditional millets that can withstand rapidly changing weather are on the decline in India. With India now having convinced the United Nations to declare 2023 the International Year of Millets, what does it mean for Indian farmers?
Farmer Vasant Kore from Sangli district’s Dongarsoni village said his family has been cultivating kar jondhala for over 120 years / credit: Sanket Jain
Farmers Say UN Designation Isn’t Enough
“Just announcing that this year is dedicated to millets doesn’t change things for the farmers,” said Amol Naik, a farmer, activist, lawyer and a member of the All India Kisan Sabha, the farmers’ wing of the Communist Party of India (Marxist). He and farmer Narayan Gaikwad, the younger brother of Sakharam Gaikwad, suggested a series of reforms to ensure fair prices to farmers.
“In several villages, we can’t even find the seeds of traditional millet varieties,” said Narayan Gaikwad, a 77-year-old activist and a farmer from Jambhali. “The government should conduct awareness sessions in villages and help farmers by ensuring a better price for millet and making traditional seeds more accessible to farmers.”
Gaikwad added that traditional seeds have become so rare that many farmers need help understanding the difference between a traditional variety and a hybrid variety.
“Just declaring a year dedicated to millets is not going to help.”
A 4-month-old kar jondhala panicle. A panicle is a loose branching cluster of flowers / credit: Sanket Jain
Why Millet Cultivation Declined
Traditional millet once was a staple food in India, helping people remain healthy. India, the sixth-highest sorghum-producing country globally, produced 4.2 million metric tons of sorghum last year, almost a 40 percent decline since 2010. Some reasons for the decline include fluctuating local climatic patterns, changing eating habits, rising heat waves, and a shift to non-native remunerative commercial and food crops.
Starting at age 17, the first crop 76-year-old Vasant Kore learned to cultivate was kar jondhala (indigenous sorghum). However, retaining the heirloom seeds wasn’t lucrative enough for many farmers. “The hybrid sorghum varieties yield double the produce as compared to traditional ones in almost half the time, whereas kar jondhala takes five months to grow,” explained Kore, who recalled hybrid sorghum varieties were introduced in his region in the 1970s.
Farmer Sambhaji Shingade, 61, from Sangli’s Garjewadi village, recounted the start of the commercialization of farming. “Many multinational corporations bought seeds from poor farmers at a meager price, developed hybrid varieties, and started selling them to the same farmers at much costlier prices. We were robbed of our traditional wealthier seeds.”
Farmer Sakharam Gaikwad, who once cultivated millets, spoke of how farming was systematically destroyed over several decades under the guise of development / credit: Sanket Jain
The rapid commercialization didn’t happen in a day. “Every government has systematically destroyed farming,” Gaikwad said. “Farming now relies on multinational companies who make these hybrid seeds and fertilizers.”
Despite the benefits of growing traditional varieties, farmers have been forced to move toward commercial crops.
“Farmers are encouraged to grow sugarcane and are rewarded by assuring them that the sugar mills will buy it,” Gaikwad said. “On the other hand, farmers are rarely given subsidies for cultivating traditional varieties that keep everyone fit, and there’s no market for such crops, forcing farmers to move toward sugarcane.”
“Also, most millets cultivated today are genetically modified hybrid varieties that promise a higher yield, but aren’t climate resistant. So, preserving the traditional varieties becomes even more critical, as they will completely vanish in a few years,” warned Vijay Jawandhiya, an activist and farmers’ leader from Maharashtra.
Gaikwad added chemical fertilizers and pesticides are now a must.
“Over the years, more and more hybrid varieties were developed and as farmers got used to them and fertilizers, the prices [of hybrid seeds and chemical fertilizers] eventually skyrocketed, making farming unaffordable.”
Shivaji Kamble said his family has been cultivating the traditional finger millet variety for over 160 years / credit: Sanket Jain
Plentiful Water and Fertilizers
When irrigation facilities started reaching Gaikwad’s village in 1964, he said everyone thought their problems had ended. “Little did they know it was the beginning of the troubling times.”
With water becoming readily available, everyone shifted to sugarcane. “Back then, there was not a single sugar mill in the region,” he said. By 2020-21, India had 506 operating sugar mills. Moreover, sugarcane requires tremendous use of chemical fertilizers and pesticides. The amount used varies based on soil conditions and climatic changes, among other factors. Also, it takes 1,500 to 2,000 liters of water to produce a kilogram of sugar. An Indian government report warns, “Most of the country’s irrigation facilities are utilized by paddy and sugarcane, depleting water availability for other crops. Pressure on water due to sugarcane cultivation in states like Maharashtra has become a serious concern, calling for more efficient and sustainable water use through alternative cropping pattern.”
Despite its problems, farmers say they aren’t left with an option. “Cultivating the traditional variety is unaffordable. It takes a lot of time to grow, and even the production is less,” Gaikwad explained.
Today, Shivaji Kamble and his wife, Draupadi Kamble, remain the handful of farmers who have managed to preserve the traditional maize variety / credit: Sanket Jain
Traditional sorghum varieties don’t require chemical fertilizers and are resistant to extreme climate events like heat waves. In addition, they can grow in drought conditions and water-logged soils, withstand salinity and alkalinity, and they are resistant to pests. Saline soil has excessive amounts of soluble salts, which hamper plants’ ability to absorb water. Meanwhile, alkaline soil contains high levels of sodium, calcium and magnesium.
Most farmers face this dilemma of losing their hybrid crops to climate change disasters or reporting lesser produce with traditional crops.
Dongarsoni farmers found a workaround by growing a lot of grapes, which unfortunately require tremendous use of insecticides, herbicides, and other toxic pesticides. “The farmers here earn a lot of money from grapes by exporting them. So they can retain the traditional crops in their vacant land,” explained farmer Gulab Mullani, 41, who follows the same approach.
However, a significant challenge for farmers like Gaikwad, who long ago abandoned the crops, comes from birds and animals eating produce. “One farmer cannot report sustainable profits if other farmers predominantly cultivate cash crops. This is because the majority of the millet produce remains a feed for birds and wild boars,” Jawandiya explained. “When there are large patches of farmland with the same traditional crop, the loss caused by birds and animals isn’t felt much.”
Another reason for abandoning millet is its lower price and lack of a regulated market, often pushing farmers into losses. “With the rise of cash crops, the labor cost increased, but the prices of traditional grains haven’t increased much. Hence, agricultural laborers aren’t paid enough for harvesting millets, forcing farmers to shift to other crops,” Jawandhiya added.
Farmer Gulab Mullani holding a kar jondhala stalk, which grows up to 15 feet and is nutritious fodder for cattle / credit: Sanket Jain
Building Sustainable Food Systems with Millet
Millets, especially sorghum, were once a staple food in India and Africa. About 500 million people in more than 30 countries depend on sorghum as a staple food, according to the International Crop Research Institute for the Semi-Arid Tropics. The study found that over two-thirds of Indians consume foods deficient in protein and essential micronutrients, such as zinc, iron and vitamin A.
Cultivating indigenous millets has been lifesaving for drought-affected farmers like Kore. They help control blood sugar levels, are rich in iron, fiber, and proteins, and improve heart health, among other benefits, over the hybrid varieties. In addition, their pest-resistant ability, tolerance to higher temperatures, and need for minimal rainfall make them an environment-friendly crop.
Moreover, traditional millet varieties don’t require chemical fertilizers. “Even if you apply chemical fertilizers and pesticides, the crop will still grow in their natural timing only,” Kore said with a laugh, “so there’s no point wasting money.”
Gaikwad uses a simple observation to predict the rising cases of several lifestyle diseases. “Just look at what people eat.”
Earlier, eating flatbreads made of traditional sorghum, finger, and pearl millet was the norm. Finger millet, compared with other millets, remains a rich source of minerals and protein, as well as calcium. In addition, it has been used to raise iron levels in anemia patients.
Now, they are replaced with hybrid wheat or rice varieties. Today, 3.5 billion people globally are at risk of calcium deficiency, with more than 90 percent of them from Asia and Africa.
Plus, millet stalks remain an excellent cattle feed. “Many farmers have retained the traditional millets only for their cattle,” Gaikwad said. Cattle dung, a much cheaper source of organic fertilizer, keeps the soil nutrient-rich and helps build sustainable farming cycles.
“With millets gone, this entire cycle has collapsed,” Kore said.
Kar Jondhala (indigenous sorghum variety) is now grown only in the drought-prone regions of Maharashtra’s Sangli district / credit: Sanket Jain
Spike In Chemical Fertilizers
While the hybrid varieties promise a higher yield in lesser time, they require maintenance through the application of pesticides and chemical fertilizers. Kore added he has found it difficult to cultivate crops without using chemical fertilizers on the field where he grows hybrid varieties, commercial crops or grapes. “The soil is now used to chemicals and hybrid varieties. I think it will take several years to reverse this.”
His observation is a stark reality as globally, the consumption of nitrogen fertilizers reached 190.81 million metric tons in 2019, a 312 percent rise since 1965. Also, chemical pesticide usage has surged over 57 percent since 1990, as its consumption has now reached 2.7 million metric tons.
While this helps a crop survive to a certain extent, it has been found to provoke oxidative stress that causes Parkinson’s Disease, respiratory and reproductive tract disorders, Alzheimer’s Disease, different types of cancer, and much more, according to a 2018 study in the journal, Environmental Toxicology and Pharmacology.
Looking at the younger generation’s experience with chemical farming, Kore’s brother, Shivaji, 67, of Dongarsoni village, never cultivated the hybrid sorghum. “Of the three acres of land I own, I have reserved an acre only for kar jondhala,” he says.
Farmers Shakila and Gulab Mullani have been preserving the kar jondhala seeds for more than 30 years / credit: Sanket Jain
Preserving a Heritage
While kar jondhala fetches almost double the price of hybrid varieties, it has much less demand. “The younger generation doesn’t know its importance,” Kore said. He recalled the 1970s when traditional sorghum was treated as a currency. “People would exchange it for buying daily items.”
Farmers, like Kore, have now taken it upon themselves to help preserve this crop. In villages like Dongarsoni, farmers still use the traditional barter system to exchange heirloom seeds.
Gaikwad, however, said not all hope is lost. “It’s not that all the traditional varieties have completely disappeared. They are still there, but one will have to travel a lot to find them because very few farmers have preserved them.”
Farmers like Kore and Mullani have now taken it upon themselves to preserve the traditional millets. “I will keep cultivating traditional sorghum until the time I die,” Kore said, smiling as he gestured to his field.
Sanket Jain is an independent journalist based in the Kolhapur district of the western Indian state of Maharashtra. He was a 2019 People’s Archive of Rural India fellow, for which he documented vanishing art forms in the Indian countryside. He has written for Baffler, Progressive Magazine, Counterpunch, Byline Times, The National, Popula, Media Co-op, Indian Express and several other publications.
Book cover of Striking from the Margins (Saqi Books, 2021)
Editor’s Note: Toward Freedom uses “West Asia” to describe what is referred to as the “Middle East,” a term with colonial roots.
Striking from the Margins edited by Aziz Al-Azmeh, Nadia Al-Bagdadi, Harout Akdedian and Harith Hasan (London, United Kingdom: Saqi Books, 2021)
The tumultuous state of West Asia has been a contentious topic within many academic and social circles for centuries. Over the past half-century many academics, politicians and strategists have put forth initiatives, programs and policies focused on reconstructing the region.
For far too long, Western countries have seen West Asia as an underdeveloped expanse of land and resources controlled and governed through antiquated religious and social policies. What separates Striking from the Margins from other discourses on the region is its commitment to addressing the misconceptions that often keep people from understanding the relationship between West Asian countries and the Western ones that occupy and use their territory mostly for economic benefits.
Book cover of Striking from the Margins (Saqi Books, 2021)
The Disconnect Between East and West
One of the reasons such a disconnect exists between those living in West Asia and the Western countries, whose tax dollars finance the implementation of interventionist policies, is due to a lack of understanding regarding West Asian governance. While the United States’ two-party system is imperfect, it offers an often-predictable outcome that effectively reinforces the country’s status quo as a leading economic power across the globe. On the other hand, many countries in West Asia face a more challenging set of circumstances to develop their economies. For example, in the early 2000s Iraqi President Saddam Hussein’s government was not only dealing with warring Shi’i and Sunni factions seeking power within Iraq, but also Islamists and U.S. troops fighting to control the region. Research done by Greek political scientist Stathis Kalyvas shows a combination of sectarian conflict along with “a short war between U.S. troops and Shi’i militias” led to Iraq experiencing “a collapse of state capacity.” (pg. 37) Such a collapse has continued to make it difficult for the country to rebuild and develop. This book effectively outlines the circumstances that have kept certain West Asian countries from modernizing.
Striking from the Margins is not a dissertation that seeks to “fix” the region. Instead, the authors push for a reconceptualization along with reasonable policy changes that would be more economically beneficial to those regions. Understanding the type of social, religious and economic pressures West Asian countries face is pivotal to building stronger and more equitable partnerships between those countries and Western ones. In the book, two of the authors, Aziz Al-Azmeh and Nadia Al-Bagdadi, effectively highlight the hypocrisy of interventionism, along with its role in destabilizing West Asia. They offer a diligent overview of state formation in the region.
In writing that “the modern state in the Mashreq arose from the needs of internal reform arising in response to global, arguably colonial pressures from outside and from internal processes of modernization, starting with the Ottoman reforms of the 19th century” (pg. 8), the authors offer a concise historical context regarding state formation in the region. But when they go on to state that “the most artificial state” and yet the strongest in West Asia is Israel (pg. 8), the blatant contradiction between regional support and global impact becomes evident. On one hand, powerful states in the region historically gained their legitimacy through a combination of regional support, resource management and tribal warfare. However, the most powerful country in the region, Israel, is not supported by neighboring countries like Egypt, Syria and Lebanon. It instead maintains legitimacy through a “client state” relationship with the United States. Thus, Israel possesses an imbalanced stronghold over the region when it comes to warfare. When discussing West Asia and the constant demands for reform in the region, it is important to explore the role Israel and the United States have played in maintaining the economic status quo.
Religious Fundamentalism and Global Capitalism
In lieu of adequate research most people tend to assume that religious fundamentalism is the leading factor stifling the development of West Asian countries. However, research suggests economic inequalities are the leading cause of instability in the region. Kalyvas writes “$1,000 less in per capita income is associated with 41 percent greater annual odds of civil war onset, on average.” (pg. 30) The Gulf Cooperation Council consists of Bahrain, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates. Together, they represent a regional, intergovernmental, political and economic union designed to integrate multiple economies and bolster infrastructure across member countries. The issue is such integration comes at a significant cost for the “migrant workers [who] have been fundamental to patterns of urban growth and capital accumulation in the Gulf.” (pg. 57) Hanieh explains “a large number of temporary migrant workers… from South Asia and, to a lesser degree, the Arab world… make up more than half of the Gulf’s total population of 56 million.” (pg. 57) Even though these workers account for more than 59 percent of the labor force within the Gulf, they have been denied labor, political and civil rights. Much of the political and economic capital used to support growth across the region is not helping the people who need it the most.
In closing, several competing entities influence the economic, social and political infrastructure of West Asia. The most important are the countries in the region, specifically those that make up the Gulf Cooperation Council, as well as non-member countries like the United States, who have a vested interest in the maintenance and development of certain programs and countries in the region. The value of Striking from the Margins is its subtle refusal to put forth a heavy-handed, neoliberal proposal on how to “reform” West Asia. Instead, it offers proper context for readers to take a step back, thoughtfully assess the situation and envision new ways to embark on such a difficult development process.
Timothy Harun is a writer and actor based in Los Angeles. He holds a B.A. in journalism from Hampton University.
A sugarcane cutter in the fields of western Maharashtra in India looking after her child as she juggles several tasks, often overlooking her own health / credit: Sanket Jain
KHOCHI, India—Anita Bhil regrets taking just a day off after more than two months of work without stop.
Since the first week of October, she has been cutting sugarcane for roughly 12 hours each day using a sickle. She then piles a bundle onto her head to walk over to a tractor. Each bundle of sugarcane weighs 20 kilograms (44 pounds). That’s about the equivalent of a large packed suitcase. By the end of each day, Bhil will have carried 50 bundles on her head and she will have tied together more than 100 bundles of sugarcane stems.
“In the past three years, my body has gotten used to this back-breaking labor,” said Bhil, who’s in her late 20s.
However, October’s devastating rainfall in Khochi village, followed by a sudden drop in temperature, then unusually high temperatures amid winter, caused her to be feverish. She took anti-inflammatory analgesics, returning to work the next day, despite an ailing body.
“Had I not taken a [day] off, I would have cut another 2,000 kilograms (4,410 pounds) of sugarcane,” Bhil said. A landless farm worker from the indigenous Bhil community, she had never before felt the need to migrate from her Chhavadi village in the Dhule district of western India’s Maharashtra state.
However, things have changed since 2018, she said. Incessant rainfall, rapid changes in the local climatic pattern, heat waves, and other recurring climatic events began destroying her region’s farms. For instance, between July and October of this year, natural disasters have affected more than 2.46 million hectares (6 million-plus acres) in Maharashtra alone.
For Bhil, these climate-induced events meant having no choice but to migrate 375 miles to the fields of western Maharashtra to cut sugarcane, moving from one plot to another on any given day. “No one in my family had ever entered this line of work,” she said.
Despite her deteriorating health, sugarcane cutter Anita Bhil refuses to stop working. “If I take a break, it will push me much deeper into poverty,” she said / credit: Sanket Jain
Bonded Labor
In India, the sugar industry impacts the livelihoods of 50 million farmers and their families, who have helped produce more than 500 million metric tons of sugarcane worth 1.18 trillion Indian Rupees ($14.26 billion) from October 2021 to September of this year. That turned India into the largest sugar producer and consumer worldwide in 2021-22. However, producing sweet sugar has come with the bitter taste of labor-law violations, inequality and the perpetuation of the grinding cycle of poverty. In Maharashtra, more than 1 million sugarcane cutters migrate hundreds of miles from their villages, working 15 hours a day for five to six months each year.
With income sources drying up, Bhil and her husband, Kunal, 35, took out a loan of 50,000 Indian Rupees ($615) to pay for each year of their children’s education and meet everyday expenses for up to five months. That meant both had to cut more than 181,000 kilograms (399,036 pounds) of sugarcane in roughly five months, an average of 1.2 tons (2,645 pounds) daily. For cutting 1,000 kilograms of sugarcane, plus tying and loading them onto tractors, these workers in Kolhapur’s Khochi village are paid $3.40.
Anita has reported a consistent decline in her physical and mental health, which has meant the amount of sugarcane she has been able to cut has decreased. She’s been keeping a mental count of every kilogram of sugarcane because last year, by the time the season ended, the couple was 54,000 kilograms short of their target. That is why they returned to the sugarcane fields this year. Yet, every hour lost to a health ailment pushes workers deeper into bonded labor. “I won’t be able to meet this year’s target as well,” Kunal said.
However, what makes sugarcane cutting appear lucrative to poor people is the advance sums.
“It’s a debt trap,” explained Narayan Gaikwad, 75, who has spent more than four decades fighting for the rights of cane cutters, farm workers and daily wage earners. A member of All India Kisan Sabha, the farmers’ wing of the Communist Party of India (Marxist), Gaikwad has unionized hundreds of sugarcane cutters in the Kolhapur district.
“The wages have fallen drastically in the farming sector because of tremendous losses caused by rains and heat waves,” he said.
In the Dhule district, for 10 hours of work, men are paid $1.80, while women earn $1.20. But over in the sugarcane fields of western Maharashtra, workers like Anita and Kunal Bhil are paid $3.40. However, no one can be assured work will be available because of the impact climate change has had on farming. And yet, it’s better than what they faced on their family farm in Chhavadi village.
“When there’s no work in the fields, you are forced to take loans from private money lenders,” Gaikwad explained. “To repay this loan, workers then take loans from sugarcane contractors—it’s a vicious debt cycle.”
On any given day, 49.6 million people around the world are forced into modern slavery, said an International Labour Organization report. The report finds that one-fifth of people involved in forced labor exploitation are in debt bondage, which is most prominent in the mining, agriculture and construction sectors.
“Marginalized communities, ethnic and religious minorities, and indigenous peoples are among the groups at particular risk,” it mentions.
A September 2021 report by Anti-Slavery International and International Institute for Environment and Development issued a warning: “Climate and development policy-makers and planners urgently need to recognize that millions of people displaced by climate change are being, and will be, exposed to slavery in the coming decades.”
Loading sugarcane stems on a tractor is risky because the fields are slippery. Many workers have reported fractures / credit: Sanket Jain
Recurring Climate Disasters
Kunal was once proud of the diversity of crops farmers cultivated in his region: Soybean, cotton, maize, sorghum and others. However, since 2018, it’s become increasingly difficult to grow these crops.
“None of them could survive the changing climate.”
Kunal’s father and two uncles collectively own 16 acres. Last year, on four acres, he cultivated pearl millet and was able to harvest just 17 quintals (3,747 pounds). “I was expecting at least 35-40 quintals.”
As a result, he couldn’t sell a single kilogram and kept the entire harvest for household needs.
The monsoon rains started late in his region. By the time the crop was ready, rainfall was too heavy to allow for harvesting. This was surprising, given Kunal comes from a drought-prone region. “We always cultivated crops that don’t require much water, but now everything has changed.” When he decided to shift to water-intensive crops, the delayed rainfall and the devastating October rains destroyed those, too. “We can’t decide what to grow because of the fluctuating climate.”
Moreover, the losses aren’t restricted to the farming fields. Of his three daughters, Kunal brought two of them to the sugarcane fields. “Who will take care of children back in the village when everyone migrates?” he asks.
Kunal, who became a helping hand too early in his life, couldn’t go to school. “I never wanted this to happen to my children, but looking at the climate disasters, I think even they will have to do this work.”
Every year, more than 1 million farm workers migrate hundreds of miles from Maharashtra’s farming villages to the fields of western Maharashtra to cut sugarcane / credit: Sanket Jain
Paying for the Sins of the Global North
Between 1991 and 2001, climate disasters led to 676,000 deaths and affected an average of 189 million people living in developing countries every year, according to the Loss and Damage Collaboration’s report. “In the first half of 2022, six fossil fuel companies made enough to cover the costs of extreme climate- and weather-related events in all developing countries and still have nearly $70 billion left over in pure profit.”
Loss and Damage refer to the economic and non-economic impacts of climate change that cannot be avoided through mitigation or adaptation. Oxfam’s report said the estimated cost of Loss and Damage can range from $290 billion to $580 billion. Research published in Lancet found that from 1850 to 2015, the Global North was responsible for 92 percent of excess emissions, the United States 40 percent and the European Union 29 percent.
In 1991, Vanuatu, an island country in the south Pacific Ocean, first proposed on behalf of the Alliance of Small Island States (AOSIS) compensation for the impacts of rising sea levels due to climate change. It took 31 years for the issue to be addressed at a COP.
The 2022 United Nations Climate Change Conference (COP27), held last month in Sharm El-Sheikh, Egypt, ended with an agreement to establish a Loss and Damage fund.
However, several details, such as its operation and which countries would contribute to this fund, haven’t been finalized. The negotiations ended with an agreement to establish a “transitional committee,” which would make recommendations on operationalizing the funding and adopting it at the next COP.
To top it off, no agreement remains about what counts as Loss and Damage. Meanwhile, thousands of workers like Anita Bhil are being pushed every day into bonded labor.
Sugarcane cutter Sarla Bhil said she started migrating to sugarcane fields for work only three years ago because of recurring climate disasters, which are devastating crops in her region / credit: Sanket Jain
‘No Option But to Migrate’
After cutting cane for more than two months this year, Prakash Bhil, 32, said he made a firm decision.
“No matter what, I won’t return next year to cut sugarcane.” He paused for a few moments and said, “But…” Then he stopped again. Almost teary-eyed, he placed his hand on the right leg. He thought it might be fractured, but he couldn’t visit a doctor because of the workload. “But it all depends if I will be able to cut enough sugarcane this year and whether rains create any havoc in my village,” Bhil said. “I just hope my children get a good education.”
Last year, the fields where he worked saw devastating rains, washing away cotton, soybean and sorghum. “Nothing survived.” Earlier, he found work for at least 25 days a month. “Now even finding 15 days of work is becoming difficult,” he said, referring to the impact of incessant rainfall.
Unable to pay off a $74 loan from last year, he returned to the sugarcane fields. “This year, I took an advance of $245 and won’t be able to repay it because of my poor health.” While he’s resting, the entire burden has fallen on his wife, a frail Sarla in her early 20s.
Anita Bhil brought her infant daughter to the sugarcane fields because no one was available back home to provide childcare / credit: Sanket Jain
Back to Work 3 Days After Giving Birth
“There are massive labor rights violations in the production of sugar,” said Narayan, the organizer. He then shared the story of a sugarcane cutter who had migrated to the Kolhapur district. She was 9 months and 9 days pregnant.
“She was cutting sugarcane for seven hours and started experiencing labor pains in the evening. The case was so complicated that three public hospitals rejected her.” Narayan then took her to the district hospital and ensured a safe childbirth. “After three days, she was back to cutting cane,” Narayan added. “A decade since then, nothing much has changed.”
For more than seven years, community healthcare worker Shubhangi Kamble in Maharashtra’s Arjunwad village has been helping make public healthcare accessible to sugarcane cutters by going door to door, providing healthcare on the spot and connecting workers with doctors and hospitals. She said the cutters’ situation has been getting worse every year, attributing it to declining incomes caused by climate change impacts.
“Sugarcane cutters are trapped in debt, and no matter what happens to their health, they don’t take a break. Many do not even complete their prescribed medical course because they can’t afford the costly medicines,” she shared. In the past three years, complaints of body aches, fatigue, and dizziness have increased among cane cutters, especially among women, according to Kamble.
One among them is Anita Bhil, who, despite her deteriorating health, is adamant about not taking a break.
“A day’s off can push an entire generation into poverty,” Bhil said, as thuds of chopping sugarcane reverberated throughout the fields.
Sanket Jain is an independent journalist based in the Kolhapur district of the western Indian state of Maharashtra. He was a 2019 People’s Archive of Rural India fellow, for which he documented vanishing art forms in the Indian countryside. He has written for Baffler, Progressive Magazine, Counterpunch, Byline Times, The National, Popula, Media Co-op, Indian Express and several other publications.
