BOOK REVIEW. Diggy diggy whole

I left my home in Kanyakumari when I was 18 to further my education and to work. If you travelled to my home town, you could see green pastures on either side, houses nestled in the mountains, and edifices painted white and red. But that was a decade ago. Now I see only patches of the greenery. The tiny houses I so enjoyed observing are hidden behind concrete buildings.

Probably that’s why when I started reading Eat Dust: Mining and Greed in Goa by Hartman de Souza, it hit so close to home, especially when he writes, “Where once tilled fields, roads flanked by greenery and a thriving water source, today you see man-made swamps and roads bordered with refuse.”

Earth movers Activist, journalist and artistic director, de Souza takes us on a journey from Maina to Cawren, the mining corridor, to show us what he terms as the carnage of the hills and fresh water springs and of displaced tribes — courtesy prolonged mining along the coast.

The heart-wrenching tale of Goa might as well have been a piece of fiction for it had all the elements of a tragedy. Shuttling between a travelogue and an activist’s ramblings, de Souza successfully depicts the changes the landscape and water resources have undergone due to mining, especially in the past few years when mining activities gathered pace.

The book starts with de Souza giving the readers the lay of the land, starting from a local chai shop in Gaundongrem, in the south, to the old Portuguese fort in Tiracol in the north and says, “When you finally reach the sea, it’s with a heavy heart.”

Each section of the book offers data and details on the mining pits, destroyed forests, now-dry springs and about those who are responsible for the devastation, making you realise that the State is caught in a web of deep inequality — the rich miners are getting richer and the vicious circle of consumerism seems unstoppable.

Malls and resorts, which were uncommon a decade ago and are the result of unbalanced consumption, are a poor substitute for what had been fertile and ecologically important swathes of land. The example of an old hill called Sonsoddo in Margao, which is now a garbage dump where resorts dump their waste, is quite startling.

It does not end there. The author describes how mining has hit the water resources in Goa. Destroying water resources to further mining operations never hold out in the long run. “In 2012, after the ban on mining kicked in and everybody thought that the spring had disappeared, it fought its way back with the help of heavy September storms.”

Where it all started Before delving more into the horrors, the author takes us back in history, when Dayanand Bandodkar became the first chief minister of Goa and the transformation that followed. The foundation for the robust healthcare system, education and agriculture that the State still boasts was laid during this period. But it was also during Bandodkar’s time that mining began to gain momentum as it provided jobs and became a developmental model. To be fair, the mining companies rightly claim their business did indeed provide numerous jobs and, you could even say, improved the standard of living in the State. The infrastructure improved to facilitate export of iron ore, as did the inflow of tourism and real estate, improving the economy.

But as it turned out, few at that time were aware of the harm they were doing to the State. The author gives the examples of a mining family member who believed in the “development” and “growth” mining brought in, and some local communities who were overwhelmed by the benefits they got from miners. They all miserably failed to see the trail of ruin right before their eyes. Those who were in the know decided to turn a blind eye to the hard facts.

But soon, environmentalists and activists succeeded in exposing the harsh realities to the world outside, but with little success in stopping ecological damages. For instance, in 2009, environmentalist Gaurav Shirodkar, after observing irregularities in the Western Ghats from a mine that was closed down by a court order, approached the authorities with considerable proof and legal aides. (The mining operation was closed down as it was 200 metres from a dam that was used for storing drinking water.) Still, the operation continued till the Shah Commission first visited the place.

Wrong growth The Shah Commission, led by MB Shah, was appointed to look into illegal mining and exports in States such as Goa, Karnataka, Odisha, Jharkhand, Andhra Pradesh and Chhattisgarh. The commission’s visit to Goa in 2011 coincided with the time the mining companies launched their corporate social responsibility programme to provide people with jobs, new temples and freebies. The author says that by the time the committee made its visit, the companies had earned the people’s goodwill and were able to continue mining.

As the story unfolds, one encounters scores of displaced communities, many of them agricultural and pastoral groups seen as an impediment to “development”. Most of them turned to mining for their existence. “Nearby, you find other mining related businesses — one or two smaller huts with tiled roofs that serve as provision stores, eateries or yet another bar where truck drivers used to tank up for the haul”. But those are just collateral benefits. The communities are still out of the development paradigm.

Even though the author succeeds in highlighting the ecological and social damage caused by mining in Goa, he does not explore the opportunities mining has brought into the State, at least in the beginning, that in part laid the foundation for the robust infrastructure Goa currently enjoys. And that makes his narrative singular. Also missing is a discussion on sustainable mining and suggestions on pragmatic solutions.

MEET THE AUTHOR

Hartman de Souza has a background in theatre, education and journalism. He has been associated with several theatre groups in the country and was, till September 2015, the artistic director of the Space Theatre Ensemble, Goa.

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