To integrate or not: What do the Jarawa think?
The courts have upheld the isolation of the Jarawa tribals in the Andamans, but the local administration is encouraging their ‘integration’. Has anyone, as the NAC recommends, asked this indigenous group what they want, wonders this reporter as she travels the Andaman Trunk Road

The ‘do’s’ on the cautionary signboard at the checkpost to the Jarawa reserve include mandatory possession of a permit, driving carefully and in convoy only, and the grave warning: ‘Solitary driving risks your life and property’. The ‘don’ts’ prohibit photography and videography, disallow vehicles from stopping inside the reserve, offering the Jarawa things to eat, or clothes, and letting them into the vehicle.
It is 5.30 in the morning and we are on our way from Port Blair to Baratang. About 35 km of the journey by road (the polemic Andaman Trunk Road [ATR]) passes through the Jarawa reserve. We wait patiently for almost an hour outside the reserve, as part of a long cavalcade of private and public transportation vehicles. We are in an Andaman public transport service bus, mostly used by locals; tourists usually opt for private agents and services.
The road is flanked by enormous trees, many hundreds of years old. A stream of used and discarded plastic cups and plates divides the tarmac from the jungle. At 6.30, escorted by the Andaman police, the convoy enters the reserve.
The indigenous groups of the Andaman Islands include the Great Andamanese, Sentinelese, Onge, Jarawa and Jangil (extinct since 1931). The word ‘Jarawa’, in the language of the Great Andamanese Aka-Bea people, means ‘outsider’ or ‘foreigner’. Studies indicate that the ethnic origins of these people can be traced back to the Negrito who are characterised by their dark skin and peppercorn hair. Primarily hunters and gatherers, they are among the first migrants to have reached the Andaman Islands, many thousands of years ago. Known to have been a hermetic tribe, the Jarawa resisted interaction with outsiders for thousands of years. Since August 1998, however, they have maintained contact with outsiders.
The number of Jarawa currently stands estimated at a mere 300-350, making them an endangered tribe; in the 1780s, the population stood at an approximate 5,000-8,000. Colonisation and spells of disease took their toll on all the Andaman tribes, particularly the Great Andamanese who were also severely exploited by the British colonisers. Although the Jarawa resisted interaction with the colonisers, sources claim they were subjected to severe genocidal attacks by them.
The Japanese occupied the Andaman Islands during World War II. They are said to have bombed Jarawa areas while attempting to target British hideouts. The Jarawa, needless to say, paid a heavy price.
The current area of the Jarawa reserve, as stated in government data, is approximately 1,028 sq km. The reserve occupies parts of the South and Middle Andaman islands. The Andaman Trunk Road connects the capital city of Port Blair in South Andaman with Diglipur in North Andaman. The road cuts through a good part of the Jarawa reserve in South Andaman. It was constructed for the prime purpose of facilitating timber extraction from the reserve. Ever since construction of this road began (1960s), the Jarawa have faced cultural and environmental threats.
The Andaman Trunk Road has been instrumental in undoing the previously formidable reputation of the Jarawa, exposing the forest to increased poaching and consequently making it harder for the Jarawa to find game. A number of local settlements have also appeared in close proximity to the reserve. The Jarawa, driven by a dearth of game, wander into the nearby settlements for ‘friendly gifts’ (the concept of money is not part of Jarawa culture). They frequent the road, seeking ‘gifts’ from passengers in vehicles. The increase in poachers has also made the Jarawa (especially the women) vulnerable to exploitation and disease.
As our bus makes its way through the astoundingly beautiful jungle, we catch glimpses of Jarawa children standing by the road, in anticipation of the convoy. They run alongside the bus and throw themselves in, completely disregarding the conductor’s rage. One of them is a boy. He is wielding a red, plastic torch. Some of the girls are wearing shiny plastic tinsel as ornaments. The conductor jokingly asks a Jarawa woman to buy a ticket for the bus. “Aap aadmi log se paisa le lo. Hum Jarawa hain,” she replies in fluent Hindi.
Although the Supreme Court in 2002 ruled in favour of closing down the Andaman Trunk Road in the interests of protecting the Jarawa, the Andaman administration defied the ruling by continuing to permit the flow of traffic on the ATR. In 2004, the Calcutta High Court introduced the Jarawa policy aimed, among other things, at ‘protecting the Jarawa from harmful effects of exposure and contact with the outside world while they are not physically, socially and culturally prepared for such interface’. The Andaman administration, as part of this initiative, also introduced healthcare centres around the reserve, with separate wards for Jarawa patients. As part of this agenda, however, the policy allowed ‘regulated’ movement of traffic on the ATR. Thus, traffic on the ATR has continued for some years now, severely disrupting and interfering with the cultural patterns of the reserve’s inhabitants.
This disregard for the Supreme Court’s ruling and ongoing traffic on the ATR has been contested by Kalpavriksh, a non-governmental organisation working to prevent intervention in Jarawa community life. Several non-governmental organisations have protested the traffic on the ATR. They argue that the safety and culture of the tribe are at stake. They espouse the protection and preservation of the Jarawa and their culture, asserting that this is possible only through closure of the ATR.
The Andaman administration has now proposed the integration of the Jarawa into mainstream society based on their apparent inclination to interact with local settlers. The tribe’s consumption of rice and sugar, chewing of tobacco, and knowledge of Hindi (which they use to communicate with outsiders) are among the reasons cited by the authorities as indicators of their preparedness to integrate with mainstream, non-tribal society. The Island Development Authority (IDA), presided over by the prime minister, has reached a decision to reverse the policy of protection and isolation that was drafted in 2004 and to begin integration of the Jarawa tribe into mainstream society. But the National Advisory Committee (NAC) has declared that any decision regarding the future of the tribe must be taken in consultation with the Jarawa themselves.
In conflict are predominantly those who argue for the return of the tribe to isolation, and those who propose its integration into mainstream society. The reasons given for integration, as stated above, are an ostensible preparedness and inclination on the part of the tribe as indicated by their diet and knowledge of colloquial Hindi. But, as Pankaj Sekhsaria of Kalpavriksh says: “There is little evidence that the Jarawa are themselves seeking integration in/with mainstream society. What we have are odd anecdotal accounts that cannot be considered the wish or will of the entire community. There is also some evidence that a significant section of the Jarawa community seeks to live deep in the forest and restrict interaction with the settler community to the minimum. We also need a better understanding of what integration actually means, and what it means for the future of the Jarawa.” Stressing the importance of remembering the “devastating impact” of intervention on some of these communities in the past, Sekhsaria adds: “What the Jarawa want is not really known!”
The process of integration itself raises some apprehensions. How is the process going to take place? Is it only going to result in the exploitation of yet another tribal group? The Jarawa reserve is one of the most valuable pieces of forest we have left. What will be the fate of the forest upon implementation of this proposed integration? Are the Jarawa going to suffer the same fate as the Great Andamanese and the Onge, both of whom were resettled and are still grappling with the consequences of attempted integration?
It can be argued that keeping these tribes in isolation is depriving them of the choice and opportunity to ‘modernise’. If these communities were forcefully isolated, this argument would be justified. But in this case, these are tribes that have avoided and resisted contact of their own accord. The administration has constantly attempted to interfere with their isolation and hasten a process of integration. They have deployed ‘friendly contact missions’ to contact isolated tribes who had no inclination whatsoever to interact with outside communities; enabled the movement of traffic within restricted areas by constructing roads; and now propose their full-fledged integration into non-tribal society. At present, the Great Andamanese (the handful that survive) have integrated with mainstream non-indigenous society and survive on government dole. The Onge inhabit reserved territories in Little Andaman and are supplied rations by the government. The Sentinelese of North Sentinel Island alone remain isolated and continue to be hostile to efforts at contact from the outside.
Studies show that the Great Andamanese and Onge have not been able to settle wholly into non-tribal society and have grown dependent on government supplies.
A decision such as the integration of a community like the Jarawa into mainstream society is not solely the prerogative of the administration; but then neither is its preservation. The NAC must therefore be lauded for its measured decision. But this decision is not without its problems, Sekhsaria says. “The Jarawa certainly need to be consulted, but the big question is how will that be done? Do we as a society and a system have the capacities, the sensibilities, the understanding or the language to have a fair and equal conversation with the Jarawa?” We are dealing with a nomadic community whose social and cultural concepts are very, very different from ours. Their conceptions of territory and even time are unlike those that we follow. One wonders why these questions of safety and cultural contamination did not arise prior to the construction of the ATR, and why only 40-odd years after the road was built we see a flurry of protests. At present, the Jarawa community is entirely at the mercy of the administration. Some sources indicate that even within the tribe, the issue of inclusion in mainstream society is a matter of contention. The Jarawa are neither the fierce and independent tribe that maintained their chosen isolation for centuries, nor are they in full awareness of the consequences of ‘modernisation’ and integration into mainstream society. It is sad to see such a resilient tribe so vulnerable, dependent and exposed.
(Jananie Kalyanaraman is a freelance editor and researcher based in Bangalore)
Infochange News & Features, July 2011



