In the Gadchiroli district of Maharashtra state, in western India, villagers from the Gond Adivasi (or indigenous) tribe have been protesting since September 2023.
Six mines are set to be built on ancestral Gondi lands. These lands are protected under the Forest Rights Act of 2006. And yet, the protesters have faced harsh treatment from the police. If the mines do go ahead, as many as 50,000 people could be forced from their homes.
Over the past decades, across India, rampant urbanisation and industrialisation has seen increasing numbers of Adivasi communities internally displaced. Cities including Mumbai, Goa, Delhi, Jammu and Jaipur now account for over a third of the country’s population.
Since 2011, I have investigated how this rural-urban migration is affecting the Gond Adivasis. The Gondi homelands – also known as Gondwana – traditionally stretch across central India, encompassing parts of Madhya Pradesh, Chhattisgarh, Maharashtra, Odisha, Jharkhand, Bihar and west Bengal.
Beyond threats from mining and other heavy industry, the creation of the nature reserves has also led to Gondi communities losing access to their lands. In 1994, the Panna Tiger Reserve was established in Madhya Pradesh. Adivasis there are increasingly unable to earn a living by traditional means, hunting, fishing and artisanal mining in the forest.
Along with the loss of knowledge and skills associated with these forest-based livelihoods, Gondi urban migrants also experience a process of Hinduisation. In the city, they often feel pressured to adopt Hindu customs and rituals, in order to fit in and find work.
Since embarking on my doctoral research in 2011, I have tracked the movements of up to 50 Gond families originating from Manor village, in Madhya Pradesh. Gonds have told me of feeling forced to migrate because staying in their villages puts them at risk of debt and hunger.
Many young Gonds see city jobs as a way to regain dignity and autonomy. They also prefer work that doesn’t tie them down to one employer and provides immediate cash.
Urban jobs pay significantly more – up to three times more – than rural government schemes. Where rural programs are often beset by delays and require a lot of effort for people to get paid, city jobs sometimes also offer advances. People are better able to cover basic expenses like medical bills, education and getting married.
Migrant workers mainly find employment in the construction sector. This means they migrate for long periods of a time. They are reliant on urban middle-class employers, who are largely Hindu landed elites referred to as Thakurs and known as Rajputs.
The Gonds I have interviewed speak about feeling pressured to follow the Rajput customs and traditions to fit in and to find work. They take part in mainstream festivals and rituals. They make offerings and donations to maintain the idols in local street shrines dedicated to Lord Hanuman, Sai Baba and Ganesha.
As one man I spoke with, Deepak told me:
I came to the city to work in construction, like many Gonds. Back in our village, we followed our traditional Gondi religion, but here, we participate in Hindu festivals and visit temples to fit in, even incorporating Hindu deities into our rituals. We often visit temples like the Hanuman Mandir and the Lakshmi Narayan Temple, where we offer prayers to Hanuman and Lakshmi. We also incorporate worship of Ganesha and Durga into our religious practices.
Gond dancers perform the Dhol dance in Chavela village, in Gadchiroli. Ephotocorp|Alamy
A long history of disadvantage
As well as religious dominance, Hindu values dominate the Indian urban landscape, culturally, socially and politically. This extends to clothing styles, dietary habits and language nuances.
I have found a broader assimilation into Hindu cultural norms among Gond migrant workers. Women wear the Hindu bindi and scarfing, rather than traditional Gondi attire of just a long cotton drape and nothing much to cover their tops and back. As one young Gond mother, Priya, told me in 2023:
Living in the city, I’ve noticed how Hindu customs influence everything, from our work to our festivals. Embracing these customs has become part of our journey to stability and opportunities in urban areas.
Gonds in urban communities watch TV, use the internet and enjoy Hindi movies, thus adopting Hindu values. Here too, this isn’t just about passive cultural influences. Rather, actively adopting Hindu culture is closely tied to economic survival and the desire for a better social standing among migrant communities.
“Hinduism has become a trend,” an older Gond man, Vishram, told me in 2022, “but also something we need to keep up with so we don’t fall behind”.
Bollywood posters are installed in the slum area of Dharavi in Mumbai. Fredrik Renander|Alamy
Urban Hinduisation is a modern phenomenon. The process, however, has ancient roots.
The Indian constitution recognises over 700 scheduled tribes, of which the Gonds are one. Scheduled tribes refer to Adivasi communities that have been historically marginalised and disadvantaged in Indian society. These tribes often reside in remote or rural areas, with limited access to basic amenities, education, healthcare and employment.
Throughout India’s history, the process of Hinduisation has resulted in discrimination and untouchability within the caste system, a phenomenon commonly referred to as “casteism” by social scientists.
Gonds and other Adivasi communities have particularly from caste-based discrimination, which Hinduism has played a significant role in perpetuating. It has historically legitimised hierarchical social structures and inequalities. As a result, Gonds and other Adivasis are often socially marginalised. They face economic exploitation. They have limited access to resources and opportunities within Indian society.
In adapting, culturally and religiously, to Hinduism, Gond Adivasis are experiencing the loss of their intangible cultural heritage.
The Gondi religion is animistic. Gonds who live in the villages around the Panna reserve worship the goddess Kher mata, said to take the form of a rock in the forest. Elsewhere, Adivasis worship gods thought to dwell in mountains, hills and rivers.
These belief systems in turn make the landscape itself sacred. As another interviewee Vikram said:
It’s disheartening to witness the decline of priceless indigenous knowledge systems centred on harmonising with forest animals and resources — a heritage bestowed upon us by our ancestors. This is our legacy. Without such wisdom, our heritage fades, and with it, our identity slips into oblivion.
