Situating the gender question in environmental law may be contested, given that the natural environment is its primary subject matter. However, that is one standpoint of viewing environmental law; another standpoint, and one relevant for a feminist engagement, finds that the ecological commons are its subject matter. This “different articulation” visiblises an alternative world, defined by interdependencies and material realities that create and sustain interactions with the environment.[1] Different feminist ecological theories engage with the question of how women and gender minorities are particularly affected by the jeopardization of commons in a neoliberal-capitalist world economy that has accelerated ecological degradation at multiple fronts. Application of these theories in assessing laws and legal doctrines operational in the realm of environmental laws has been limited; this article seeks to make headway with respect to forest governance and law in India.
Forest governance in India has been marked by an interesting trajectory since the colonial era, with changing roles of the State, level of community participation and types of conservation practices promoted. Given that grassroots movements, particularly the Campaign for Survival and Dignity[2], have been instrumental in introducing participatory and deliberative mechanism of forest governance, legislations such as the Scheduled Tribes and Other Traditional Forest Dwellers (Recognition of Forest Rights) Act, 2006 (hereafter, ‘FRA’) have been indicative of replicating the language of commons in the law. However, assessing actual success of integrating alternate standpoints and situated knowledges in forest governance, and contextualising forest governance in the language of gender and masculinities, is an exercise this article seeks to attempt.
In this article, I begin with setting the feminist ecological theoretical framework to enable an elaborate examination of forest law and governance mechanisms in India. Then, I initiate the discussion on forest governance in India by tracking how participatory decision-making processes have been introduced and whittled down over the years. Further, I interpret role of the State and its complicity with capitalist-corporate actors in exploitation of the commons, using the language of masculinities, inter alia. Lastly, I introduce the Public Trust Doctrine, a remarkable environmental legal doctrine with importance for forest governance, and problematise its rather simplistic notion of the State and “public”.
Setting the stage: feminist ecological theories
The ecological commons have been a site of extensive feminist engagement because of gender-differentiated interactions and experiences connected to what is economically termed as the “natural resources”. Some feminists have identified the relevance of the commons in gendered division of labour, in terms of material reality, where women find themselves constantly relying on the natural environment for performing functions of social reproduction operating in a public-private divide.[3] Most elaborately theorised by Bina Agrawal, feminist environmentalism seeks to locate the necessity of this reliance on the commons in lack of power to control usage of resources and property, along with gendered division of labour.[4] The lack of power and property need not merely be due to being a woman, but also simultaneously belonging to other oppressed identities on the lines of caste and class in India.[5]
A deeper examination of intersectional identities and their impact on access to natural resources and the commons is conducted by Feminist Political Ecology (FPE). FPE is arguably an extension of feminist environmentalism in its theoretical basis in practical experiences visible in the form of gendered knowledge, environmental rights and responsibilities, and politics and grassroots activism.[6] FPE is broader than singularly focussing on gender as the analytical category, such as in ecofeminism (as will be later discussed) and also in feminist environmentalism to an extent, and relies on comprehensive contextualisation of power relations in economies and politics. Consequently, FPE visiblises “political marginality of most women” where historical exclusion of women from traditional sites of public sphere such as formal labour force and organised politics (symbolising bastion of immense political power to transform the state of nation) has been operating on partial knowledge.[7] The gender roles of women that make their interaction with the commons more frequent has given them distinct knowledge about ecological regeneration and maintenance of ecological balance, thereby keeping intact interdependencies.[8] However, the deficiency and marginalisation of women from positions of power and governance has devalued this knowledge, leading to ecological degradation that impacts the disenfranchised and excluded women the most after the natural environment itself.[9]
In this context, capitalist structures, that are sustained through a non-interventionist State after the universalisation of neoliberalism, have partnered with patriarchal expectations from women. This partnership has aimed to convert commonly accessible lands and forests to exclusionary sites to either pursue “scientific environmental conservation” to maintain “purity” of the forest,[10] or through outright decimation of commons for extracting commercially exploitable “natural resources” (namely, timber, minerals, and fossil fuels).[11] The range between the two responses is arguably polemical due to erasure of gendered interdependencies and knowledges in ecological interactions, that could lie somewhere in between.
The first approach has been subject to a Dalit environmentalism and feminist critique, questioning “fortress conservation” that is discriminatorily selective in its narrative of maintaining “purity” of forests.[12] Allowance of recreational and commercial activities commonly pursued by upper castes and classes while fortressing access to keep out Dalits and Adivasis, particularly women, for a much serious dependence of livelihood, albeit its gendered genesis, makes environmentalism an issue of divisive politics.[13] The unequal access to the commons creates an enmity between environmentalism and Dalit women,[14] defeating the argument of ecofeminism (as will be later discussed) that assumes that all women have an “intrinsic” affinity towards protection of the ecological commons. It is a tragic irony that all the exploitable “natural resources” are located under or in forests, historically inhabited by Adivasi communities in India, that makes it a site of constant contestation based on unequal power relations across different planes of identities and institutions (Gram Panchayat, Governments and Big Corporate).[15] This makes the second option even more oppressive and violent as it displays clear discrimination and favour for capital rather than subsistence economies.
Ecofeminism provides with an alternative way of conducting a gender-based analysis of ecological commons that is based on drawing comparisons between the subjugation and consequent violence suffered by women and other gender minorities and the nature[16] (an important indication of this comparability is implicit in how planetary ecosystems are often cumulatively termed as “Mother Earth”). Most prominently posited by Maria Mies and Vandana Shiva, ecofeminism pegs the source of such subjugations in hegemonic masculinity that justifies dominance over women, sexual minorities and environment.[17] Diversity exhibited in the ecological commons in terms of interspecies diversity is similar to poststructuralist understanding of gender, whereby monocultures, that thwart ecological diversity and structures masculinist homogeneity, is understood as propagated by capitalist patriarchy.[18]
However, ecofeminism’s theoretical assumptions of natural camaraderie of women and other sexual minorities with environment when the latter is subject to degradation have been problematised by feminist environmentalism and queer ecofeminism. Feminist environmentalism draws attention to more existential and material reasons behind specific groups of identities expressing concern for ecological degradation and modern fortressing. Asmae Ourkiya in Queer Feminism provides an alternative poststructuralist critique where hegemonic masculinities’ entrenchment in capitalist economy and governments entails that mere representative inclusion of women and gender minorities in these structures does not ensure gender-conscious policymaking related to environment and climate change.[19] This leads to the argument that display of hegemonic masculinities is not limited to gender construct[20]; what is actually problematic is how hegemonic masculinities such as petro-masculinities,[21] industrial/ breadwinner masculinities,[22] inter alia, fundamentally oppresses alternative masculinities such as eco-masculinities, that also harbour the values of care, delinking it from femininity.[23]
On capitalism, feminism and conservation of ecological commons, Silvia Federici’s work is authoritative where conservation of commons by women through social reproduction has the potential to “reappropriate” common wealth and “disaccumulate” capital, that have been instrumental to maintain capitalism.[24] The reproductive work of women in this context is not merely sustaining households, but also reproducing collective memory and mutual bonds.[25] However, she caveats against assuming a pre-capitalist fantasy of egalitarian access to the commons, which aligns with the Dalit feminist and environmentalism critique, and calls for intersectional egalitarianism in such access.[26]
Adding the role of bureaucracy in Federici’s analytical framework, an important actor in Indian forest governance, one finds that the “modern technocrat” seeks to apply scientific social sciences, that is quantitative in nature and borrows from the certainty and objectivity of natural sciences, to manage natural resources.[27] The inherent inclination towards technology in the conservation process is seen as “masculine” that excludes women’s and indigenous standpoints.[28] Masculine culture, organisational practices and treatment of gender by the State apparatus as a compartmentalised subject matter has rendered bureaucracies impervious to integrate the experiences of women, originating in sexual division of labour, in changing methodology and policymaking itself.[29] In this context, introduction of participatory decision-making mechanisms provide an alternative method of functioning of the State, that could arguably have achieved integrated of alternative standpoints, especially in conservation of commons and environment. the next part begins with this exploration in forest governance in India
Feminist genesis of participatory decision-making in India’s forest governance
Participation of forest-dwelling communities in forest conservation and exploitation efforts is a relatively recent development in India, with a chequered record. The legal landscape of forest governance in India begins in the colonial legislation, the Indian Forest Act, 1927, (‘IFA’) that has not been repealed post-independence.[30] In the catena of forest legislations, IFA arguably represents absolute sovereignty model, as recognised by Arpitha Kodiveri, which centralises the decision-making power and “ownership” in the state to the exclusion of forest-dependent communities.[31] IFA classifies forests into reserved, protected and village forests, based on level of exclusionary security and restriction on access to forest and forest produce.[32] Central theme running throughout the IFA is of penalisation of accessing forests if done in the absence of such right claimed and permitted by the State government, itself or through its the Forest-officers, at its discretion.[33] Even the provision on village forests is circumscribed by way of State government’s dominance in declaration of such forests, and rescinding of such declaration, to allow access by village community.[34] This is dominance is strengthened by application of rules governing reserved forests unless the State government modifies the same for specific village-forests.[35]
Another important colonial recognition was of separate governance mechanism for areas inhabited by Adivasi communities, particularly through the Government of India Act, 1935. The Act created Excluded Areas and Partially Excluded Areas, that are post-independence under the constitutional scheme most closely referred to as Sixth and Fifth Schedule areas respectively.[36] Under the Fifth Schedule, the application of laws and regulations created for general application can be extended to these areas under the Governor’s discretion. The exclusionary centralisation of the power became more prominent with the introduction of Panchayati Raj system through the 73rd Constitutional Amendment Act, given that the same was not replicated in the Fifth Schedule areas. This anomaly was cured through the Panchayat (Extension to Scheduled Areas) Act, 1996 that made the Gram Sabha a key player in the system of governance.[37] In Sixth Schedule areas, the existence of Autonomous District Councils to govern in certain subject matters has established a co-existence of legal application of subject matters not mentioned in the Schedule.[38]
Post-independence, the Indian State continued with the “scientific” conservatory approach that rested on State dominance and disenfranchisement of forest-dependent communities in forest decision-making, as evident in the National Forest Policy, 1952.[39] This changed in the National Forest Policy, 1988, that recognised the role of forest-dependent communities, particularly Adivasis, in forest governance; this recognition was followed by introduction of Joint Forest Management system in 1990s. JFM sought to initiate a shift in bureaucratic centralisation by creating a symbiotic partnership between the government, acting through the Forest Department, and forest-dependent communities, through a representative committee known as the Forest Protection Committee.[40] However, the committee was often constituted in a manner to retain dominance of the forest department, thereby rendering it ineffective in accomplishing participatory governance.[41] Moreover, one person per household formula for representation in the FPCs of several states, or forest department’s preference for male members,[42] entailed participation of the patriarchs, thereby capping the ambition of this participatory governance intervention by marginalising the women involved in daily forest-interactions.[43]
The necessity for a dedicated legislation centring the role of forest-dependent communities in was realised due to failure of JFM, and initiation of the Campaign for Survival and Dignity.[44] This eventually led to the introduction of the FRA. The thoughtful drafting of FRA has not been replicated in its effective implementation, as will be seen later; however, it represents negotiated sovereignty, basing such judgment solely on the text.[45] However, noteworthily, the expanse of FRA is wide enough to include forest-dependent communities not limited only to Scheduled Tribes, recognising that other rural communities in non-scheduled areas may rely on forests for their livelihood and sustenance.[46] FRA recognises three types of rights- individual forest rights, community forest rights, and community forest resource rights (which are limited to usufructuary right to use forest produce)- that can be claimed in respect of any type of forest, including the classification of IFA.[47] Gram Sabha, “with full and unrestricted participation of women”, forms an important stakeholder in initiating the process of such recognition, along with a two-tier appellate mechanism.[48] FRA outlines both rights and obligations of holders of such forest rights, including preservation of cultural and natural heritage connected with forests.[49]
A scrutiny of the FRA reveals recognition of women-specific linkage with conservation of the ecological commons is largely absent; the only provisions on gender-based inclusion are related to participation in Gram Sabha and reservation for women in the appellate mechanism. A feminist critique of these provisions lies in compartmentalised inclusion of women that may not indicate effective acknowledgement and integration of distinct ecological knowledges harboured by them, rooted in their material reality. Moreover, the assumption of Gram Sabha being an egalitarian institution is misplaced, given that caste, class and gender dynamics has historically affected access to leadership and tendency of majoritarianism even at the local governance level.[50] The presence of an appellate mechanism does not ensure just and apolitical enfranchisement because the appellate bodies have strong representations from the bureaucracy, albeit tokenistic reservation for women and members of STs.[51] Another critique of FRA lies in the procedural burden and onus on the forest-dwelling communities/individuals to claim forest rights, that ignores village politics based on identities and assumes knowledge of such rights and their capability to get them recognised by historically disempowered forest-dependent communities.[52]
On a deeper feminist reading of the FRA and its execution, the higher number of recognitions of individual forest rights than of community rights[53] is at odds with the concept of ecological commons for open usage by the community. Individual forest rights are in line with creation of enclosures, that fragments ecological interdependencies and potentially entrenches resource monopolisation even in a legislation as progressive as FRA. However, despite the intention to create a deliberative environment for forest governance, the bureaucracy has remained uncomfortable in acceding their “ownership” and control to the communities. In Kinnaur, Himachal Pradesh, for instance, this has been done by creating false narratives about encroachments and limiting the imagination of who forest-dependent communities are.[54] This State-Capital nexus in forest governance is further discovered in the ensuing part to centre the role of hegemonic masculinities.
Hegemonic masculinity of State and capitalist corporate actors in forest governance
Usurpation of power in forest governance by the State despite instilling deliberative governance through FRA has meant that the statist model of governance has been kept intact, to continue marginality of forest-dependent communities, particularly women, who face historical exclusion. This centralisation of power has been favoured by bourgeois environmentalists who seek to maintain “purity” of the forests and view forest-dependent communities with suspicion.[55] This has been expressed through constitutional validity challenge to FRA by groups such as Wildlife First, that argue that FRA is in contravention to conservatory efforts as per the Wildlife (Protection) Act, 1972 and Forest (Conservation) Act, 1980.[56] However, the absolute sovereignty model for forest governance is a double-edged sword, where assuming state’s bona fide interest and intention in conserving forests, despite lucrative extractive opportunities available, is subject to disputation in light of State-Capital nexus that has facilitated widespread destruction of forests, by the non-tribals.
The Forest (Conservation) Act, 1980, with the amendments made in 2023, provides a glaring instance of limiting the effectiveness in achieving truly egalitarian and participatory forest governance. FCA, quite contrary to “conservation”, allows the State to divert land for “non-forest purposes” that includes mining, commercial infrastructure development, inter alia, provided such approval is obtained from the Central Government.[57] Most notably, in 2023, the Act was amended to redefine “non-forest purpose”, inter alia, to include eco-tourism, zoos and safaris, a legislative manoeuvring that excludes these activities from even obtaining a forest clearance.[58]
Even though such clearance required consent of the Gram Sabha as facilitated by the District Collector,[59] there have been instances of false and forged documents exhibiting prior informed consent of the Gram Sabha, two notable cases in point being Hasdeo Aranya in Chhattisgarh[60] and Great Nicobar Island[61]. Moreover, the State and companies seeking access to lucrative natural resources under and in the forests have often divided the forest-dependent communities by promising hefty compensation for those who agree to relocate and punitive measures against those who do not.[62]However, this illegality was legalised for later projects through the Van (Sanrakshan Evam Samvardhan) Rules, 2023, that has completely done away with the requirement of obtaining Gram Sabha consent for diverting forest lands for non-forest purposes.[63]
The removal of consent requirement, the only thread that empowered forest-dependent communities to conserve the commons, has strengthened the imagery of the state, acting through law and bureaucracy, as displaying hegemonic masculinities such as industrial masculinity, petro-masculinity and arguably a “Brahminical masculinity” (that promotes selective fortress conservation, while enjoying recreational activities that starves livelihoods of women, Adivasis and Dalits). It must be noted that the Stata has often, in recent times, been a facilitator and “enabler” of pro-business and extractive activities undertaken by mammoth companies such as Adani, Jindal, Posco, Vedanta, inter alia.[64] The operations of these companies are rooted in commodification of nature and exploitation thereof to create accumulation of capital and disenfranchisement of those with a survival interdependency with the commons.[65] Their continued profitability in maintaining status quo, excluding “obstacles” such as consent of forest-dependent communities, and enjoying a State-guaranteed “ease of doing business” environment is emblematic of hegemonic masculinity that sustains hierarchies and concentration of power. This hegemonic masculinisation becomes starker when sexual violence is unleashed against Adivasi and other forest-dependent women when they resist snatching of the commons by the State and corporate patriarchs.[66]
The violence, deception and disenfranchisement at the centre of forest governance, despite the existence of legislations like FRA and PESA, has initiated a conversation of rethinking our relation with the commons, as citizens of the country, and particularly for those whose survival depends on the commons. Steering towards a “care-based approach”, an imagination of stewardship, non-carcerality and trusteeship has been posited to replace punitive, violent and deceptive forest governance of India.[67] Most commonly vouched through the judicially evolved concept of Public Trust Doctrine (PTD), the next Part seeks to dissect this conversation and examine whether PTD is better equipped to acknowledge and integrate alternative ecological interdependencies shaped by intersectional identities.
Public Trust Doctrine a sign of bourgeois environmentalism? Reimagination of PTD from the fringes
Type of role performed by the State in forest governance, as palpable through legislative developments, switched from complete authoritarianism in the colonial period, its continuance in the post-independence period, to partial accession of power to forest-dependent communities (albeit questionable) and the development of State’s imagination as a steward of environment through PTD. PTD recognises that the ecological commons need to be preserved for usage by the public and future generations, and the State has fiduciary responsibility to maintain such access and protect from exploitation by selective private actors.[68] PTD was developed in the locus classicus, M.C. Mehta v. Kamal Nath in 1997, where construction of a motel in forest land, inter alia, was contested.[69] The judgment elaborated in PTD to constrain commercial and extractive activities in light of limitations of the environment to undergo constant changes and transformations.[70] The upholding of these constraints is vested in the State, which is supposed to act in bona fidemanner and maintain environmental health for public at large and future generations (intergenerational equity).[71]
Despite the theoretical progressivism exhibited by M.C. Mehta, the judgment recognised the inherent conflict between environmentalism that seeks to maintain “pristine purity” of the ecological commons, and developmental activities to cater to “changing needs of an increasingly complex society”.[72] Relegating the resolution of this conflict to the legislature, the judgment reserved its authority to judicially review legislative interventions undertaken under PTD to appraise whether the State is performing its obligation.[73]
However, PTD must be critically examined in light of who constitutes the “public” while determining fulfilment of State’s obligation of stewardship. As explored in this article, it is a mistake to assume homogeneity of citizenry whilst studying ecological interdependencies and ideologies harboured by people situated at different levels of gender, class and caste matrix. Unless such engagement acknowledges and integrates the material reality, experience and situated knowledges of forest-dependent women, PTD yet again has the potential to make the mistake of hegemonizing conservation discourse with a masculine State and corporate actors along with arguably classist and casteist environmentalism under the garb of scientific management of forests.
The apparent simplicity of PTD is complexified when sections of the public are at odds over the interpretation of “conservation” or “private ownership”- bourgeois environmentalists prefer scientific, statist conservation model over participatory governance of forests that has the potential to empower forest-dependent women defined by their material reality and located at the intersections of oppression. Moreover, individual and community forest rights might as well be considered private ownership of forests, as argued by the forest bureaucracy at places such as Kinnaur,[74] to restrict access to the forests for realisation of one’s livelihood and survival.
The simplistic narrative created by PTD is further problematised by questioning the stewardship credentials of the State itself, especially in recent times when through a State-Capital nexus the State has promoted private ownership of the commons. This argument is substantiated through the 1997 judgment in Samatha v. State of A.P, where the peculiar cultural and livelihood-based relation of Scheduled Tribes with conservation of their land, that is predominantly forested, was emphasised.[75] The law in contention in Samatha was a 1970 State Regulation that prohibited transfer of immovable property by a ST member to non-ST member in Scheduled areas, with the intention being to preserve tribal identities connected with land.[76] It was argued that a transfer to the government was not prohibited under this provision.[77] The court took cognisance of the view that the State government could very well be an intermediary to facilitate an indirect transfer from an ST member to a non-ST member, thereby having the same effect of destroying local governance of Scheduled areas.[78] Thus, the State has the capacity to switch its role from being a caring steward to an extractivist enabler, as has been observed in multiple instances.
A feminist reading of PTD might entail recognising vulnerabilities of communities located at the intersections of oppression. Moreover, PTD will have to account for danger for relying on the State, as contextualised in the State-Capital nexus and masculine bureaucracy, and necessitate centring of effective participation and integration of forest-dependent communities to maintain State accountability. However, this must be done through legislative intervention as PTD is a post facto analytical tool for the judiciary.
Conclusion
Feminist engagement with environmental law, particularly forest law, in India has been limited to accessing inclusion of women as another participant in decision-making. However, as this article explores, such engagement can be broadened to assess and visiblise wider tendencies with implications for gender politics such as posturing of the State as an authoritarian patriarch, prevalence of hegemonic masculinities in bureaucratic apparatus and capitalist corporate structures, and actual integration of situated knowledges of forest-dependent communities.
Feminist ecological approaches such as feminist environmentalism, queer feminism and feminist political ecology, inter alia, provide potent tools of critically analyse forest legislations, judgments and doctrines, especially when FRA has been a phenomenal attempt at creating a deliberative and participatory mechanism for forest governance with the recognition of the commons for forest-dependent communities. However, in light of bureaucratic stagnancy and simultaneous dilution in forest conservation through allowance of destructive commercial activities without the approval of Gram Sabha, there have been questions about effectiveness of FRA introducing a care-based regulatory framework; the challenge to FRA by bourgeois environmentalists aggravates the precarity of forest-dependent communities, especially women due to gendered division of labour and ensuing dependency on the ecological commons.
Recognising the State-Capital nexus that exhibits hegemonic masculinities of extractivism and unlimited exploitation of “natural resources” leads to the eventual questioning of State’s bona fides to act as the steward of forests as per PTD. Reconceptualising PTD and participatory forest governance mechanisms as in FRA and PESA, in light of standpoint feminisms, and recentring the most oppressed constituencies in forest governance, namely rural, Adivasi or Dalit women, through their effective (not tokenistic) participation and acknowledgement of their ecological dependencies and knowledges may provide a feminist approach to forest law in India.[79]
*I would like to thank the Professor and peers in the Gender and Law elective who helped me materialise this article.
[1] Silvia Federici, Re-enchanting the World: Feminism and the Politics of Commons (PM Press, 2019) 1.
[2] Arpitha Kodiveri, Governing Forests: State, Law and Citizenship in India’s Forests (Melbourne University Press, 2024) 31.
[3] Carole Pateman, The Disorder of Women: Democracy, Feminism, and Political Theory (Cambridge Polity Press, 1989) 182-185.
[4] Bina Agarwal, ‘The Gender and Environment Debate: Lessons from India’ (1992) 18(1) Feminist Studies 119, 127.
[5] Bina Agarwal, ‘Environmental Action, Gender Equity and Women’s Participation’ (1997) 28 Development and Change 1, 37.
[6] Dianne Rocheleau, Barbara Thomas-Slayter & Esther Wangari, ‘Gender and Environment” A feminist political ecology perspective’ in Dianne Rocheleau and others (eds), Feminist Political Ecology: Global issues and local experiences (Routledge, 1996) 4; Barbara Thomas-Slayter, Esther Wangari & Dianne Rocheleau, ‘Feminist Political Ecology: Crosscutting themes, theoretical insights, policy implications’ in Dianne Rocheleau and others (eds), Feminist Political Ecology: Global issues and local experiences (Routledge, 1996) 289.
[12] Sanjana Meshram & Aditya Rawat, ‘Entrenching Brahminical Conservation: An Analysis of the Wild Life (Protection) Amendment Act’ (2023) 58(13) Economic and Political Weekly 10.
[13] ibid 11; Kodiveri (n 2) 20; Riyosha Sharma, ‘How Indian Environmentalism Shelters Eco-Casteism’ (Nickeled and Dimed, 22 November 2021) <How Indian Environmentalism Shelters Eco-Casteism – NICKELED AND DIMED> accessed on 28 September 2025; Mukul Sharma, ‘Dalits and Indian Environmental Politics’ (2012) 47(23) Economic and Political Weekly 46, 47; Manisha Rao, ‘Gender and the Urban Commons in India: An Overview of Scientific Literature and the Relevance of a Feminist Political Ecology Perspective’ (2020) 51(1-2) International Quarterly for Asian Studies 261, 266-267.
See Purnima Sah (The Hindu), ‘Thousands march in silent rally in Kolhapur, demanding return of elephant Mahadevi by NGO Vantara’, (4 August 2025) <https://www.thehindu.com/news/national/maharashtra/thousands-march-in-silent-rally-in-kolhapur-demanding-return-of-elephant-mahadevi-by-ngo-vantara/article69890677.ece> accessed on 28 September 2025. [Case Study of Vantara and relocation of an elephant endeared by rural community of Kolhapur, Maharashtra, exhibits an important clash of interests between private individuals vouching for conservation and rural communities’ alternative sense of conservation of the ecological commons and species.]
[14] Gopal Guru, ‘Dalit Women Talk Differently’, in Sunaina Arya and Aakash Singh Rathore (eds), Dalit Feminist Theory: A Reader (Routledge, 2020) 151.
[15] Kodiveri (n 2) 14; Virginius Xaxa, ‘Governing the Environment in the Fifth and Sixth Schedule Areas’ in Philippe Cullet and others (eds), The Oxford Handbook of Environmental and Natural Resources Law in India (Oxford University Press, 2024) 122.
[16] Maria Mies and Vandana Shiva, ‘Introduction: Why We Wrote this Book Together’ in Maria Mies and Vandana Shiva (eds), Ecofeminism (Zed Books, 2014) 14.
[17] ibid; Asmae Ourkiya, Queer Ecofeminism: From Binary Environmental Ebdeavours to Postgender Pursuits (Lexington Books, 2023) 97.
[18] Vandana Shiva, ‘Women’s Indigenous Knowledge and Biodiversity Conservation’ in Maria Mies and Vandana Shiva (eds), Ecofeminism (Zed Books, 2014) 164-165, 172.
[19] Ourkiya (n 17) 76.
[20] ibid, 104.
[21] ibid, 93, 106-107. (“The concept of petro-masculinity means that fossil fuels, white patriarchal order and hegemonic masculinity are entangled.”) (“Petro-masculinity approaches masculinity as a socially constructed identity that emerges within a gender order that defines masculinity in opposition to femininity, and in so doing, sustains a power relation between men and women as groups.”)
[22] Paul Pule and Martin Hultman, ‘Industrial/breadwinner masculinities: Understanding the complexities of climate change denial’ in Catarina Kinnvall & Helle Rydstrom (eds), Climate Hazards, Disasters, and Gender Ramifications (Routledge, 2019) 86, 91, 95.
[23] Ourkiya (n 17) 97-98.
[24] Federici (n 1) 2.
[25] ibid, 5-6, 108.
[26] ibid, 5-6, 110; Rao (n 13) 270.
[27] Krishnan (n 10) 57; T.N. Godavarman Thirumulpad v. Union of India and Others, (2006) 1 SCC 1, ¶ 25-26, 37. [This case talks about Net Present Value (NPV) metric of assessing a forest’s utility, thereby applying objective economics to assessing the commodifiable “value” of forest commons; this metric is often used in approving forest clearances under the Forest (Conservation) Act, 1980.]
[28] Krishnan (n 10) 81; Reeta Chowdhari Tremblay, ‘Inclusive Administration and Development: Feminist Critiques of Bureaucracy’ in Keith M. Henderson & O.P. Dwivedi (eds), Bureaucracy and the Alternatives in World Perspective (Macmillan Press, 1999) 74.
[29] ibid, 81-82.
[30]Sharachchandra Lele, ‘Forest Management and Conservation Regime’ in Philippe Cullet and others (eds), The Oxford Handbook of Environmental and Natural Resources Law in India (Oxford University Press, 2024) 467.
[31] Kodiveri (n 2) 37.
[32] Indian Forest Act 1927, s 26 & 33.
[33] Indian Forest Act 1927 s 4(c) & 5 [for reserved forests], s 34 [for protected forests]; Kodiveri (n 2) 45.
[34] Indian Forest Act 1927, s 28.
[35] ibid.
[36] Xaxa (n 15) 123.
[37] ibid, 125.
[38] ibid.
[39] Kodiveri (n 2) 28.
[40] M.N. Murty and Sushama Murty, ‘Economic Instruments and Economic Regulators’ in Philippe Cullet and others (eds), The Oxford Handbook of Environmental and Natural Resources Law in India (Oxford University Press, 2024) 174; Kodiveri (n 2) 53; Agarwal (n 5) 2, 15.
[41] Kodiveri (n 2) 53.
[42] Agarwal (n 5) 27.
[43] Agarwal (n 5) 19; Krishnan (n 10) 217-218.
[44] Kodiveri (n 2) 31.
[45] ibid, 37 [“…negotiated sovereignty is where the state and forest-dwelling citizens rely on different laws and arrive at a negotiated settlement on decisions of conservation and development. This could be done through the Tribes Advisory Council in Scheduled Areas, and perhaps a new consent provision that allows for structured dialogue and negotiation between the state and local communities.”]
[46] Scheduled Tribes and Other Traditional Forest Dwellers (Recognition of Forest Rights) Act 2006, s 2(o); Lovleen Bhullar, ‘The Indian Forest Rights Act 2006: A Critical Appraisal’ (2008) 4(1) Law, Environment and Development Journal 20, 25 [“The inclusion of such a restrictive provision (to prove residence of at least three generations) would render the claims of nomadic tribes and members of the more vulnerable non-ST forest dwelling tribes, who may have relied on other means of livelihood since the year 1930, ineligible.”]
[47] Scheduled Tribes and Other Traditional Forest Dwellers (Recognition of Forest Rights) Act 2006, s 2(d), 3(1)(a) and (c), 4(6); Kodiveri (n 2) 32.
[48] Scheduled Tribes and Other Traditional Forest Dwellers (Recognition of Forest Rights) Act 2006, s 2(g), 6(8). [SLDC (Sub-Divisional Level Committee) and DLC (District Level Committee), the two-tier appellate mechanism, is supposed to have at least two members from the STs and one a woman.]
[49] Scheduled Tribes and Other Traditional Forest Dwellers (Recognition of Forest Rights) Act 2006, s 3, 5.
[50] Nirmala Buch, ‘Women’s Experience in New Panchayats: The Emerging Leadership of Rural Women’ (2009) CWDS, Occasional Paper No. 35, 1, 23; Govind Kelkar and Dev Nathan, Gender and Tribe: Women, Land and Forests in Jharkhand (Kali for Women, 1991) 116-118.
[51] Call for Justice, ‘Report of the Fact-Finding Committee on the Implementation of the Forest Rights Act, 2006’ (2024) 68.
[52] Orissa Mining Corporation Limited v. Ministry of Environment and Forests and Others, (2013) 6 SCC 476, ¶ 47. [“Many of the STs and other TFDs are totally unaware of their rights. They also experience lot of difficulties in obtaining effective access to justice because of their distinct culture and limited contact with mainstream society. Many a times, they do not have the financial resources to engage in any legal actions against development projects undertaken in their abode or the forest in which they stay…”]
[53] Call for Justice (n 51) 66.
[54] Aditi Vajpeyi & Vaishnavi Rathore, ‘Forest Rights Act in Kinnaur, Himachal Pradesh: A Bureaucratic Unmaking’ (2020) 55(4) Economic and Political Weekly 16, 19.
[55] Rajshree Chandra (Science, The Wire), ‘How the FRA is Being Cut Down to Size, and Tribals With It, (23 February 2019) <https://science.thewire.in/law/how-the-fra-is-being-cut-down-to-size-and-tribals-with-it/> accessed on 28 September 2025.
[56] SCO, ‘Constitutionality of the FRA: Wildlife First v. Union of India’ <https://www.scobserver.in/cases/constitutionality-of-the-frawildlife-first-v-ministry-of-forest-and-environment-eviction-of-forest-dwellers-background/> accessed on 28 September 2025; Bhullar (n 46) 24.
[57] Forest (Conservation) Act 1980, s 2.
[58] The Forest (Conservation) Amendment Act 2023, s 5.
[59] Forest (Conservation) Rules 2003 (as amended in 2016), Rule 6(3)(e)(ii); Scheduled Tribes and Other Traditional Forest Dwellers (Recognition of Forest Rights) Act 2006, s 13; Sarvajeet Kumar Sinha and Roopa Madhav, ‘Mining and the Environment’ in Philippe Cullet and others (eds), The Oxford Handbook of Environmental and Natural Resources Law in India (Oxford University Press, 2024) 720.
[60] Shubhangi Derhgawen and Deepanshu Mohan (Frontline), ‘Hasdeo Arand and the manufacturing of tribal consent’ (23 January 2025) <https://frontline.thehindu.com/environment/chhattisgarhs-hasdeo-arand-forest-corporate-nexus-environment-tribal-rights-adani-enterprises-ltd/article69104150.ece> accessed on 28 September 2025.
[61] Ajay Saini (Frontline), ‘Great Nicobar: Whose land is it?’ (12 January 2023) <https://frontline.thehindu.com/environment/great-nicobar-whose-land-is-it-shompen-and-nicobarese-still-await-return-to-homes-from-temporary-camps/article66349832.ece> accessed on 28 September 2025.
[62] Kodiveri (n 2) 98.
[63] Van (Samrakshan Evam Samvardhan) Rules 2023; ibid, 88.
[64] Kodiveri (n 2) 40.
[65] Ourkiya (n 17) 106-7.
[66] Geoff Law (Adaniwatch), ‘India’s abuses of tribal women defending ancestral lands from mining’ (3 May 2022) <https://www.adaniwatch.org/india_s_abuses_of_tribal_women_defending_ancestral_lands_from_mining> accessed on 28 September 2025.
[67] Kodiveri (n 2) 143.
[68] Roopa Madhav, ‘Public Trust Doctrine’ in Philippe Cullet and others (eds), The Oxford Handbook of Environmental and Natural Resources Law in India (Oxford University Press, 2024) 235-236.
[69] M.C. Mehta v. Kamal Nath, (1997) 1 SCC 388.
[70] ibid, ¶ 23.
[71] ibid, ¶ 24, 25.
[72] ibid, ¶ 35.
[73] ibid.
[74] Vajpeyi & Rathore (n 54) 17.
[75] Samatha v. State of A.P., (1997) 8 SCC 191, ¶ 11, 19.
[76] ibid, ¶ 39.
[77] ibid, ¶ 50.
[78] ibid, ¶ 94.
[79] ‘Mandaluyong Declaration of the Global Conference on Indigenous Women, Climate Change and REDD Plus’ in Tebtebba Foundation, Indigenous Women, Climate Change and Forests (2011) 298.
