Adivasi and nomadic writers are never or rarely introduced as contemporary intellectuals by mainstream publishing houses and cultural academies.
Their writing is treated as native testimony, a sociological artifact. It is to be deciphered by urban elites rather than a sovereign intervention that can stand on its own.
The emergence of the Adivasi avant-garde marks a permanent end to the era of literary tokenism.
Every August, on the eve of International Day of the World’s Indigenous Peoples, mainstream publishing houses, state-led cultural academies and urban festivals scramble to curate what they categorise as "tribal voices". This artificial packaging reflects a paternalistic attitude in which Adivasi and nomadic writers are never or rarely introduced as contemporary intellectuals. Instead, they are projected as repositories of unfiltered trauma or romanticised as timeless relics of an ecological past. Their writing is treated as native testimony, a sociological artifact. It is to be deciphered by urban elites rather than a sovereign intervention that can stand on its own in global literature and philosophy.
This containment operates mostly through curation, translation and editing. An indigenous text is translated into, say, the standardised Hindi, Marathi or English for the mainstream market. A process of sanitisation—aesthetic and political—happens. The raw expression of communities in terms of anger as they face corporate land grabs, erasure from history and state militarisation is softened. Sharp critiques of internal colonialism are generalised and use easy words like "marginalised" and “deprived", thereby diluting a radical political demand into a manageable, bureaucratic grievance.
The market demands that the writer portray trauma that evokes sympathy for the indigenous. It doesn’t want to disturb the urban reader’s conscience. Translation, from this viewpoint, is a mere enforcement of unequal terms of engagement. It strips the indigenous text of its originality and rigour. In this process of coaxing the market, the complex, multi-layered conscience and consciousness of the marginalised subject are reduced to the rhetoric of the helpless victim awaiting salvation from the centre.
The Aesthetics of Refusal
Bilingual writers like Jacinta Kerketta, Hansda Sowvendra Shekhar, Anuj Lugun, Banjara writer Ramesh Karthik Nayak and veteran Bhil-Mawchi voice Najubai Gavit are no longer writing to perform for this market. They are pioneering an aesthetic of refusal in which their texts function as unyielding counter-archives, deliberately designed to resist easy consumption and intellectual colonisation. Refusing to write in standard national and global languages, they actively disrupt these dominant market-based frameworks. They are constructing a political barrier by embedding untranslated indigenous vocabulary, unscripted oral dialects and localised idioms into standard texts.
Gavit’s Marathi novel Bhima Farari (Bhima the Fugitive) is an uncompromising reclamation of tribal history. It is written in an untamed language that mainstream Marathi publishers initially refused to print because it defied standard norms. Gavit refused to dilute the deployment of the Bhil-Mawchi oral idiom as it emerges directly from the lived realities of the Adivasi struggle. Her work actively fights against the backdrop of the historical erasure of tribal freedom fighters. Her refusal is not merely thematic; it is deeply material. In the mainstream, the subaltern’s text is traditionally accompanied by sprawling footnotes, italicisations and protective glossaries. This makes sure the text is comfortable for the urban reader. Writers such as Gavit, Nayak and others dismantle these safety nets. Their unitalicised, unfootnoted, indigenous sovereign words fundamentally upend the power dynamic of who owes an explanation to whom.
Nayak’s Sahitya Akademi Yuva Puraskar-winning collection, Dhavlo (Song of Lament), shattered the glass ceiling for nomadic Gor-Banjara literature. Writing in the Banjara language using the Telugu script as well as English, Nayak infuses over 400 untranslated Banjara words into his narratives. Dhavlo and his English-language poetry collection Chakmak capture the grief of a community whose lifestyle, attire and oral histories are constantly being lost in translation. Nayak forces the mainstream to strive, stretch, bend and accommodate the cultural realities of the thanda. Similarly, Oraon writer Kerketta’s collections such as Angor and Jaduguda refuse to provide convenient glossaries or italicised footnotes for indigenous terminology. Santhal writer Hansda Sowvendra Sekhar uses Santhali cultural idioms, kinship terms and spatial concepts to establish an autonomous narrative universe. In the radical Hindi poetry of Munda writer Lugun, the integration of Munda cosmologies and resistance vocabulary acts as a direct assault on standard Hindi literary aesthetics. These writers use their work as a living, breathing analytical framework to critique contemporary corporate exploitation and state overreach.
The Philosophical Shift
The linguistic defiance of the indigenous writers signals a philosophical shift away from state-sponsored tribal "welfare" toward absolute "knowledge sovereignty". The anthology Being Adivasi: Existence, Entitlement, Exclusions, edited by the late scholar-activist Abhay Xaxa, shows that a paternalistic vocabulary of developmental deficits has dictated the dominant discourse about India's indigenous populations. The subaltern is cast as an object that lacks education, modernity and agency. In Kamal Nayan Choubey’s Adivasi or Vanavasi: Tribal India and the Politics of Hindutva, he focuses on epistemic abundance. Both these texts project indigenous knowledge systems as alternative models of living, ecology and governance. This shift completely upends the urban elite’s tendency to co-opt tribal literature.
The mainstream reader eagerly consumes indigenous texts when they are packaged as either pastoral nostalgia or pristine eco-poetry. Lugun’s Munda cosmologies and Kerketta's writing on Jharkhand's soil document a battleground focused on the earth, an assertion of territorial and epistemic sovereignty. These are direct critiques of the corporate-state alliance that treats indigenous land as a resource to be extracted. This literature reframes the writer not as a citizen who is waiting to be integrated into the mainstream nation-state but as a member of a sovereign community with an independent historical and philosophical lineage.
“Knowledge sovereignty” means asserting the right to define one's own history, identity and future, which is independent of the state's vocabulary. It rejects the idea that progress requires the erasure of memory. These writers offer a vital, alternative critique of global capitalism and climate collapse. They demonstrate that the subaltern worldview is not a relic of the past but an existential philosophy for the future.
Uncompromising Terms of Engagement
The emergence of this avant-garde marks a permanent end to the era of literary tokenism. Representing an indispensable, foundational voice of indigenous intellectual reclamation, Adsule's paradigm-shifting critical interventions on contemporary cultural politics outline a deeper structural revolt against the historical monopolies of knowledge. In his analysis, the writers of this movement are not seeking to occupy a small, decorative corner of a Eurocentric or majoritarian literary canon. Instead, they are entirely rewriting the rules of the canon itself. By systematically shattering the urban elite’s binary of romanticised relic or helpless victim, they force an entirely new, uncompromising term of engagement upon the Indian reading public.
This literature demands a profound shift in how the mainstream approaches these texts. These writers feel their works need to be seen through the lens of literary merit and philosophical rigour. They refuse to be treated as mere sociological testimonies. The avant-garde has made it clear that they, or their literature, are an unyielding counter-archive that asks for no permission to speak or validate their pain. They have seized their own sovereignty for the sake of narration. The “lexicon of belonging” is not for translation now. Mainstream Indian literary discourse has to decide whether it can develop the capacity to listen to voices that refuse to be acculturated, sanitised, or tamed.
(Adv. Nikhil Sanjay-Rekha Adsule is an expert on Constitutional law, a Creighton Peden Scholar [USA] & a John Dewey Emerging Scholar [2023]. He is an alumnus of TISS and is currently a senior scholar at IIT Delhi)
