Recently, I visited Rourkela, a small yet picturesque city in the state of Odisha. Surrounded by towering hills and bordered by rivers, Rourkela is rich in natural beauty. With a relatively modest population of around 15.7 lakh and comparatively low pollution levels, it stands out as one of the more livable cities in India.

Rourkela is widely known as the Steel City, thanks to the establishment of India’s first public sector steel plant under SAIL (Steel Authority of India Limited). During my brief exploration, I discovered that SAIL has played a significant role in shaping the city’s infrastructure and overall development.

Most residents here are professionals who have relocated from other parts of the country. The population includes many young executives and new job seekers. However, the real focus of this article is not Rourkela itself, but the complex and often overlooked conflict involving Adivasi (tribal) communities in Odisha.

This conflict gained national attention following the rejection of two major industrial projects: the POSCO steel project and the Vedanta bauxite mining project. These decisions brought both relief and unrest, especially among the tribal populations whose land and lives were at stake.

It is important to note that these Adivasi communities are not only struggling with industrial displacement but are also caught in the crossfire between Indian security forces and Naxalite insurgents operating in Odisha and neighboring states. However, the intricate issues related to Naxalism and state security actions are vast and will not be covered in this article.

This article will discuss how the project could have benefited the tribal communities of Orissa, and what alternative activities—such as promotion of crafts, handlooms, and other local industries—can be introduced in these areas to support the social, economic, and educational development of Adivasis.

Before moving forward, let’s first acknowledge a clear fact: the Adivasi communities of Orissa desire to live lives similar to those in urban areas, with access to quality education and modern comforts. While some may argue that these communities wish to preserve their traditional ways, it is certain that the new generation of tribal youth will one day question the government—“What has been done in the last 63 years of independence to improve our quality of life?”

This would be a shameful and difficult question for both the Indian and the Orissa state governments to answer.

One major reason behind the rise in Maoist (Naxal) violence is the continuous neglect of the needs of tribal Adivasis by both state and central governments. Over decades, their forest lands have been acquired, homes displaced for industrial projects, and they have been employed mostly as laborers. Despite this, they have rarely been given opportunities that would empower them or help them live at par with the rest of the country.

According to an article written by Mr. Sudarshan Upadhyay on 05/09/2010 in Gujarat Samachar, some NGOs working for tribal welfare may be corrupt and misleading Adivasis for corporate benefits. Many of these NGO staff and employees enjoy the luxuries of five-star hotels while positioning themselves as representatives of the oppressed—leading so-called andolans (protests) in the name of tribal rights.

While it’s not always the case that NGOs are failing in their duties, it’s also true that there has been no significant or visible progress due to their efforts. In many cases, NGOs have become instruments used as tools—or even shields—to facilitate business operations in Adivasi areas, especially where there is influence from Naxals, local governments, media, or other external actors.

The Underlying Question: How Long Shall We Keep Tribes as Tribes?

The underlying question to NGOs, the Government of India, state governments, and citizens is this: how long shall we continue to keep the Tribes (Adivasis) as Tribes?

Recently, Rahul Gandhi claimed that he was protecting tribal interests when Environment Minister Mr. Jairam Ramesh rejected the POSCO project (₹51,000 crore) and the Vedanta bauxite project, stating that both violated environmental and human rights laws. While these reasons seem valid on the surface, there is a pressing need to examine such decisions at a micro level, considering various political factors and ground realities.

I understand the environmental and human rights concerns. However, for the development of tribal communities and their regions, employment is essential. And to create employment opportunities, industry installation becomes a necessity. It is neither practical nor fair to expect large tribal populations to migrate in search of livelihood. It is, in fact, the government’s responsibility to provide sustainable livelihood, education, and a decent quality of life to them.

In most tribal regions, forested lands are common. Thus, building industries often means clearing forests—something I personally oppose. Yet, as mentioned earlier, this issue requires micro-level analysis. India is a densely populated country with limited land resources. When dealing with marginalized populations who have suffered for decades—used for labor, exploited, underpaid, and often victimized by abuse or violence (including rape of women by various forces)—the challenge becomes far more complex. The lack of education and economic opportunity continues to make them vulnerable to such abuse and also susceptible to exploitation by Maoists (Naxals), who may manipulate them with narratives that highlight governmental failure.

Microanalysis is essential.

In my view, NGOs often raise issues that bring them money—either through corruption or under the guise of legal benefits. In India, it’s not difficult to find loopholes to escape accountability. The pattern is familiar: an activist raises an issue, the media picks it up, a few headlines are made, and soon enough, it’s forgotten. For some, this has become nothing short of a business model.

When the Tata Singur project was opposed in West Bengal, Gujarat quickly welcomed it, leading to successful implementation. While India dreams of becoming a superpower, Adivasis are still left behind. Many tribal communities, like the Kondha from Odisha, told me they want education and jobs, not just TV or cycles during elections. They’re ready to give up forest land if the government guarantees employment and development. Youths are seeking real opportunities, but some are misled by illegal groups due to lack of support. Instead of weapons or tradition alone, they need tools of progress — like education and technology.

Odisha is rich in minerals like bauxite and iron. Digging for these affects forests and tribal lives, but industries also support society’s needs — cars, construction, etc. Development can be justified if it ensures employment, education, and infrastructure for locals. Forest loss may be painful, but tribal upliftment reduces economic burden and brings dignity. Like we have laws to protect tigers but not chickens, there’s hypocrisy in human rights too. What matters is creating a fair balance between nature, people, and progress.

A Final Message to Youth, Oriyas, and Tribal Communities:

It’s never too late for a good start.
Together, we can shape a better future.
More ideas and improvements may come,
but what matters most is starting now—
with clear intent and committed action—
to uplift Orissa’s tribes and the state.