Kamará is an Awá Indian, from the Amazon state of Maranhão, Brazil. He and his family were contacted in 1998 by FUNAI, the government’s Indian affairs department. They were brought to live in Juriti, a community of about 40 of the most recently contacted Awá. It is very close to a road built by loggers.
In Oct 2006 Kamará, who is now about 50 years old, narrowly survived an attempt to kill him. He recounted the incident to Felipe Milanez who was then editor of FUNAI’s magazine ‘Brasil Indígena’. Felipe is currently assistant editor of ‘National Geographic Brasil’.
The Dongria have a strong tradition of community song. These recordings were made late last year as our film crew settled down with them in their village homes.
UK firm Vedanta Resources is pushing ahead with the construction of a bauxite mine on the tribe’s land as I write this. We are asking all our supporters to help keep this issue in public focus, to put pressure on Vedanta and to defend the Dongria now.
Allegations that workers from Malaysian logging companies are raping and harassing Penan women caused a furore in the Malaysian press after they were publicised in September.
Top government figures denied the claims, while numerous Malaysian and international organisations called for an official investigation and better protection for the Penan.
The two logging companies – Samling and Interhill – whose workers the Penan accused are operating on the tribe’s land without their consent.
Penan communities have spent more than 20 years trying to keep loggers off their land and to prevent the destruction of the forests they rely on for food and shelter. (more…)
We’re excited to launch our new film ‘Mine: story of a sacred mountain’ today. It’s got some big names attached to it: Joanna Lumley narrates, and there’s music by, amongst others, Skin (formerly of Skunk Anansie) and Robot Club.
But the real stars are, of course, the Dongria Kondh. They are one of India’s most remote and self-sufficient tribes. Their forests, in the Niyamgiri Hills, are spectacular. And they worship Niyam Raja, the God of their sacred mountain.
But if mining giant Vedanta Resources gets its way, they will be sacrificed at the altar of the Gods of ‘progress’. Among Niyamgiri’s riches is bauxite, the raw material for aluminium. Ironically, the very rocks beneath their forests and villages, the lands which have sustained them since the beginning, may be their destruction.
What will the Dongria Kondh do to defend their forests, their way of life and their mountain God? Watch the film. Let the Dongria take you into their lives and their lands. And, please, help them save their mountain.
To Forbes, from Survival’s Director, Stephen Corry:
Since when did being a ‘hero of philanthropy’ (Forbes, March 4) involve invading a tribe’s sacred hills, destroying the forests they live in and devastating their lives?
That’s what Anil Agarwal, majority owner and chairman of Vedanta Resources, is doing in Orissa, India. His motive is simply profit, but Mr Agarwal’s plans will destroy one of India’s most remote, and self-sufficient, tribes – the Dongria Kondh. If Mr Agarwal were a true philanthropist, he would talk to the people most affected by his company’s massive industrial projects and respect what they want, rather than blithely assume that what is good for his bank balance is also good for the Dongria Kondh – it isn’t.
British newspaper The Independent today carried a prominent opinion piece from Survival’s director, Stephen Corry. Since former BBC man Michael Buerk put his foot in it, global debate on the use of terms like ‘primitive’ to describe tribal peoples has reached a new pitch.
From this morning’s Independent piece:
“What’s all the fuss about? Does calling tribal people “primitive”, or even “Stone Age” or “savage”, really matter? Isn’t this just another example of political correctness gone mad? In fact, it has nothing to do with political correctness at all. The reason the use of terms like “primitive” to describe tribal peoples is so important, and so dangerous, is because they lead directly to the destruction of tribal peoples.”
The Guardian reports that in the world today, ‘…there are around 2,500 languages at risk, including more than 500 considered “critically endangered” and 199 which have fewer than 10 native speakers.’
‘A once healthy language dies because its speakers shift allegiances to that of a bigger, more powerful group of people and, while this can happen through political pressure and military force, it is now most often brought about by the flood of migration from the country to the city.’
Or, as with the language of the Akuntsu, a community of just six people, human massacre and land theft will also consign a language to history.
Colombia’s vicious internal struggles have dragged tribal peoples into the violence against their will. This recently resulted in the assassination of indigenous man Edwin Legarda Vasquez.
A string of killings by the Colombian army and paramilitaries has led to calls for the country’s president, Alvaro Uribe, to be brought to an international court on charges relating to the violence.
In the final part of their Botswana blog with video, Survival supporters Joseph and Daniel leave Kaudwane resettlement camp and head for Gugamma and Mothomelo in the Central Kalahari Game Reserve (CKGR). Both places used to be thriving communities before the Bushmen were evicted by the Botswana government in 2002. Read part one and part two of the diaries.
We have packed our tent and equipment and are ready to drive into the CKGR. I think we are both excited and a little anxious about the trip.
We’ve offered to help our new acquaintance, Nama, by transporting some goods to his family inside the game reserve. He packs a big bag of melons and two bags of mealie meal (cornmeal), a staple food over here.
If we have time, we would like to see where their homes were inside the CKGR before the government evicted them and cut off their water supply in 2002.
So off we go into CKGR. The road is good to begin with, but it quickly becomes sandier and the tracks become deeper.
I’ve just turned on the four-wheel drive and the car is swiftly moving along. The driving feels quite similar to riding a horse.
Every now and then the sand becomes so deep that I have to keep reminding myself: just keep driving. The car floats like a snowboard through the sand.
Remains of Gugamma
After a few hours we suddenly see a number of homes fenced by densely packed branches. We have reached Gugamma! I’m feeling sweaty but happy to have made it.
Nama’s mother is not the only family member living in Gugamma. His brother and sisters are there, too. They are surprised to see us.
Before it becomes too dark we ask Nama whether any of his ancestors are buried nearby. He says yes and would like to show us. We walk through the grass away from the camp.
Nama takes us to see the place where his father and relatives are buried. He walks in silence and pauses when we arrive at the place to look first downwards, and then skywards, saying that this land is sacred because it is the land of his ancestors.
I’m looking forward to sleeping but the car proves everything but a nice bed. I’m glad when the sun rises, but my back feels sore. The plan was to drive for 8 hours today. After breakfast we leave to drive to Mothomelo, another village.
The road is the same as yesterday: endless turns and bumps keep us awake. Our friends are in a good mood, and we are in a good mood. It is a challenge but a really good one to drive a car through this terrain.
Eviction site
We have been driving for almost two hours when one of our friends suddenly says that we are there.
We look around, it is a small open area and we recognize the cement square in the ground. That used to be the water tank.
Now it has been taken by the government, making it excruciatingly difficult for the Bushmen to be able to survive in the Kalahari without a dependable source of water.
Our friends look around. After some encouragement one of them tells how it used to be to live here. He talks quietly. His story is moving. His world disappeared and it seems hard to bring it back.
We drive back from Mothomelo in a depressed mood. It is hard to be confronted with a vanished world.
It’s hard to imagine what it must have been like for Nama to see the place where he once lived, where he used to go for water, meet his friends, and now he finds this empty, silent space.
All across Southern Africa, and in fact all over the world, people have been forcefully removed from their homes and their lands, to make room for nature parks and mining and other industries.
The Botswana government is determined to see through the full and final removal of the Bushmen from their traditional homes.
“Social outreach is an integral part of Perenco’s approach to conducting business. Wherever we operate, every effort is made to improve quality of life while preserving traditional culture and values…”
Perenco’s methods of ‘preserving traditional culture and values’ have so far included briefing its workers on how to behave when encountering uncontacted tribes. Exploration teams were told to shout, through megaphones, ‘We haven’t come here to look for women, we have our own women in our own village’.
Welcome to the topsy-turvy world of corporate social responsibliity, where words are all it takes to fulfil voluntary codes of practice.
But the real stars are, of course, the 
What will the Dongria Kondh do to defend their forests, their way of life and their mountain God? 
I’m looking forward to sleeping but the car proves everything but a nice bed. I’m glad when the sun rises, but my back feels sore. The plan was to drive for 8 hours today. After breakfast we leave to drive to Mothomelo, another village.