The unanticipated loss of the multigenerational connection to their "dharti" was the cost of progress that the inhabitants of Tharparkar had to bear.
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When I first met a classmate from Tharparkar during my master's program, he told me a tale of how his parents mistook him for someone heading to another nation while he was actually going to the federal capital.
I didn't really grasp the significance of his tale until I made my own trip to Tharparkar for anthropological fieldwork. Tharparkar, one of the world's most densely populated deserts and the home of the majority of Pakistan's Hindus, is situated close to the India-Pakistan border.
The Thari identity
People had to rely on nature and one another for survival in the past due to the desert's isolation and lack of accessibility. Also, it mostly protected it from the carnage that resulted from the division of the subcontinent, protecting it from the ensuing hyper-nationalist religious and political ideologies.
Similar to many indigenous tribes, this developed a close relationship with the land over generations, which came to be seen as the devoted mother who cares for the community. This mutually beneficial connection eventually developed into a potent localized identity known as the "Thari" identity, which was founded on the values of respect, brotherhood, and religious tolerance.
During my time in Mithi, a small village in Tharparkar, I saw this firsthand. There, I saw a striking contrast between the inclusive Thari identity and the orthodox Muslim Pakistani identity, which is determined and molded by the prevailing religion. For instance, regardless of their religion, people in Tharparkar would say "satin kera haal ha" instead of traditional religious salutations like "Namaste" or "Assalam-o-Alaikum" to ask each other how they are.
For those who lived there, Tharparkar was an almost idyllic place: secure, segregated, and isolated from the rest of Pakistani civilization in the middle of the desert. The discovery of vast coal resources in the desert, which are thought to contain 175 billion tonnes of lignite coal and potentially supply Pakistan's energy needs for up to 200 years, changed all of that.
As a result, the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC) developed the Thar Coal Block II power plant, which had the goal of extracting 3.8 million tonnes of coal annually and using it to produce electricity. The project received approval in 2021 to extract 12.2 million tonnes.
The price of development
The first was the destruction of regional, indigenous ecosystems cultivated over many generations, the eviction of local pastoralist communities from their lands, and an increase in policing and militarization of the region as a result of the environmental cost of the region's unprecedented industrial growth. The words of a resident of Tharparkar illustrate the anguish of losing one's biological heritage:
"Phog was a tree that was so essential to the Thar people's way of existence that I am at a loss for words. My sadness stems from the fact that the ecosystem of Thar is essential to the way of life of the Thar people, and now that this region has developed, the Tharis have lost their connection to nature, which is undesirable on all levels.
A common name shared myths, culture, traditions, and a former territory are all signs of a nation. In addition, the "ethnoscape," which refers to a shared ancestor link with the environment, is where the essence of nationhood in spatially diverse groups like Thaparkar lies. Through songs, poetry, and cultural performances, the romanticization of the concept of a "dharti" (homeland) is spread, which in turn strengthens the roots of nationhood among indigenous groups.
Consequently, the dependence on indigenous knowledge structures and traditions used to give the native population in a remote location like Tharparkar a sense of connection to their environment, which in turn molded their identity and strengthened the notion of "nativeness." The local folklore of a Thari girl by the name of Marvi serves as an illustration of her affection for the country. The tale of Marvi's tenacity while being held captive by the monarch has been passed down down the generations in every Thari household (Umar). Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai's outstanding masterpiece "Shah jo Risalo" immortalized Marvi's resilience and yearning for her birthplace.
The unanticipated loss of the multigenerational connection to their "dharti" was the cost of progress that the inhabitants of Tharparkar had to bear. In other words, for them, losing the local flora and fauna was like saying goodbye to a loved one, and in doing so, they also lost pieces of their own identity and sense of self.
Second, as outsiders began to travel the roadways, they were allegedly shocked to discover Hindu-Muslim coexistence in contrast to the rest of Pakistan. I observed the Hindu celebration of Diwali while I was in Tharparkar. It was a weird experience for me to see the entire town filled with celebration fireworks and festivities. I had only ever witnessed these celebrations in Bollywood movies as a Muslim from the "mainland."
The Thari identity also represents inclusivity and a sense of brotherhood because of its connection to the Tharparkar ethnoscape, which gave the residents a stronger sense of community and pride. But when orthodox religious institutions grew in the region and the dominant religion started to appear more frequently in talks, the polarising language of "us vs. them" quickly crept into the Thari way of life.
A Hindu resident of Tharparkar said, "I have witnessed this abrupt change in the local culture of tolerance, which I think is tied to this infrastructure development. The foreigners have begun to come here, and tragically, they will try to sabotage our culture, our secularism, and our sense of brotherhood by importing their fundamentalist ideals.
To burn or not to burn?
Many Tharparkar villagers are scared of the coal projects, but I also want to encourage my readers to consider the other side of the story. The nation's economy is in ruins as I write this article and has been on the verge of default for months. Leaving aside the question of Chinese loan debt traps, the finding of vast coal resources is a lifeline for a developing nation like Pakistan that is experiencing an energy crisis.
The Thar-Coal project has also had a good influence, which the general manager of a foundation that is "focused on coal" was quick to emphasize during my recent visit to the coal fields without mentioning "the nasty and ugly" aspects of the same operation.
The truth is that this coal will produce power while also emitting climate gases, and it has already fundamentally altered the way of life of the Thari.
Pakistan is experiencing the repercussions of climate change, which are being fueled by the hyperconsumption culture catered for by the profit-driven agenda of large global conglomerates, despite Pakistan generating less than 1 percent of total greenhouse gas emissions globally.
Should we go ahead and mine coal, burn it for a century, and help put an end to our planet's demise? In theory, we shouldn't. But because of environmental disasters, political unrest, the war on terror, institutionalized corruption, and military dictatorships, Pakistanis are no longer given the opportunity to object.
