Sacred Swamps: Where Culture Meets Conservation

Water gurgles gently by the semicircle of smooth stones on a makeshift pedestal. Beside the pedestal, a small net prevents trash and debris from flowing into the swamp. Looping knee roots arch out of the water, looking like miniature coils of water snake. They may look weedy and weak but are unexpectedly resilient, even when dust coats them, and water levels drop in summer. A small dab of red powder on each stone shines in the dappled sunlight, a reminder that these are no ordinary stones. They are a shrine to local deities — Chowdamma, Bhoota, Vanadevate, and Jatka — gods of the swamp.

The constant rumbling of vehicles on the road high above us is distracting, but the man offering a coconut to the stones is unfazed. This is the reality of many sacred swamps in India; indeed, this is the reality of sacred groves across the country. Proximity to roads and other linear intrusions and easy access from nearby villages puts sacred swamps at high risk of disturbance. But sacrality is a strong motivator for protecting such sites, at least for those who worship there.

The history of sacred swamps links back to the advent of agriculture and the rise of agricultural communities in the Western Ghats nearly 3,000 years ago. Traditionally, hill communities placed high value on the headwaters of watersheds – streams, springs, ponds, perennial wells, or swamps – which they protected as life-giving water sources. These waterbodies and the larger forests around them were valued by local communities, who gradually labelled them sacred. Sacred ecology has long been embedded in Indian culture and tradition.

Rise of the Sacred Swamp

Early Indians worshipped pre-Vedic gods in small patches of relic primaeval forests (that lay within larger forest tracts across the country). With the rise of agriculture, most of these forests were cleared for crops, leaving behind only patches of sacred forests. These forests were old-growth evergreen patches, and many had waterbodies within. Farming communities settled near these waterbodies because of the perennial water supply. Some of these forests are the sacred swamps of today and are unique ecosystems of waterlogged forests with trees adapted to life in saturated conditions. These swamp forests were worshipped for their perennial water source, good hunting, abundant non-timber forest products, and the cool ambient air temperatures they provided nearby villages. This logic of worshipping that which gives life is highlighted in the chapter “Sacredness and Sacred Forests” (in Conserving the Sacred for Biodiversity Management) by M. Vannucci, who states: “Tradition recognises forests as one of the main life-supporting systems and as a climate regulator; it recognises the direct and indirect benefits they give to mankind, such as food and materials, but mainly for the role they play for soil conservation and in the water cycle. Forests continue to be the object of reasoned and varied forms of protective worship” (Vannucci 1998). 

Dr MD Subhash Chandran highlights the intrinsic connection between forests and watersheds, especially as forested watersheds have higher rates of infiltration during rainfall events as compared to non-forested watersheds. He has worked extensively on the wet evergreen forests and swamps of Uttara Kannada district in the central Western Ghats. “Forested watersheds have vegetation that is specially adapted to increasing water retention in the soil, in the trees, and this ensures that water is available to downstream villages even in the dry season,” he says. Due to the abundance of vegetation, forested watersheds are able to capture and store rainwater easily in the soil. In contrast, in non-forested watersheds, most rainwater runs off without entering the groundwater, posing problems for downstream villages and increasing the risk of flood events.

Sacred swamps have been infrequently studied by researchers due to a lack of awareness about the traditions and beliefs surrounding these relic patches. However, research by Narasimha Hegde has brought sacred swamps to the limelight, exposing the delicate balance between sacrality and conservation in the landscape of Uttara Kannada. Hegde found that sacred swamps tend to be closer to settlements, roads, commercial plantations and gardens and are often found within a mosaic of paddy fields, teak plantations, areca nut plantations, and deciduous forests (Hegde et al. 2018). Typically, communities have specific rules for utilising the sacred swamp forest out of respect for the local deity. For example, Sorab taluk in Shivamogga district had 13,000 hectares of documented kan (sacred) forest, most of which was maintained for wild pepper by local communities. Other commodities from kan forests included toddy, cinnamon, and herbs. However, extracting them required permission from the head chief and the local deity that was said to live in the kan. Without permission from the gods, people were unwilling to trespass the forests, thus aiding their preservation.

Deities of the Swamp

Certain deities are commonly worshipped within sacred swamps in Karnataka. Chowdi, the water goddess, is one of the most well-established deities in most swamps in the region. A small stone placed under a tree beside a waterbody often notes her presence. Bhoota, the demon, is associated with dense tropical wet evergreen forests. Jatka is a deity associated with guarding territory, and Beerlu is a village guardian deity. Locals also worship Vanadevate, the mother goddess, and place offerings at her shrine during outbreaks of contagious diseases as she is associated with good health (Hegde et al. 2018). Studies show that the deities’ key duty is preserving ecosystem function. Rituals focus on maintaining key ecosystem services such as providing clean water for drinking and household use and maintaining the health of the villagers who worship there. Such beliefs are shared across swamps in the Western Ghats landscape (Hegde et al. 2020). 

Local deities may also be associated with protection against wildlife like tigers and leopards, may pose a threat to unsuspecting villagers who wander too deep into the forest in search of water or resources. To prevent attacks from wildlife, locals often worship deities associated with these animals. Ganapathy Hegde of Chaare, a village associated with two swamps, is an example of someone who maintains the ancient rituals of worship inside the swamp. He says, “We [he and his family] worship Hulidevaru, the tiger god of the sacred swamp. His idol is placed underneath a large Lophopetalum [a water-tolerant tree species] tree, and only my family and two others may visit the swamp to pray to him. We pray for good health and protection against wildlife. Here, by the Aghanashini River, we see many leopards. The animals come to drink the pure water and hunt deer in these forests. If we are to protect our cows and children from attacks, we must continue to pray to the tiger god and appease him.”

Outside Karnataka, Myristica swamps – a type of freshwater swamp found in the low-lying wet evergreen forests along forest streams – are often worshipped as sacred swamps. These swamps are home to noteworthy and endangered tree species such as Myristica fatua, the wild nutmeg listed as Endangered on the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species. However, some rituals may hinder the conservation of these delicate ecosystems. In Maharashtra’s Kanhalanchi Rai, the state’s only Myristica swamp, sacrality and conservation seemingly work against one another. Divyanshu Pawar, a hydrogeologist and ecologist with Symbiosis Centre for Climate Change and Sustainability, says, “Kanhalanchi Rai has huge cultural significance for the local people of Hewale, Bambarde, and Ghatiwade village as every year they celebrate Holi (Shimga Utsav), where they cut down the tallest Myristica tree every year to take to the village for the festival.”

Shifting Cultural Identity of Swamps

Most swamps today exist in fragmented pockets of wet evergreen forests in a mosaic of agricultural land use and deciduous forests. Local communities normally passed on knowledge of these swamps and their boundaries orally to future generations. However, with the rise of temple worship and the gradual migration of younger folk from rural to urban India, sacred swamps are losing significance among the newer generations. According to Dr MD Subhash Chandran, as younger village folk move to larger towns and cities in pursuit of careers, higher quality of life, and better education, fewer families are left to worship at sacred swamps. In Tippankodlu village near the Aghanashini River, while parents worship gods inside the swamp, their children apply for UPSC exams and work towards leaving the village for the big city. When I asked them about the sacred swamps and community rituals, most youngsters dismissed these traditional practices as outdated and not worth sustaining.

Several hectares of swamps used to exist in nearly every Uttara Kannada district village. However, the rise of plantations and human-dominated land has led to a decline in Myristica swamps across the Western Ghats. Today, very few swamps remain. But the traditions surrounding sacred swamps are still alive in the heart of the Western Ghats, and as long as people pass on these beliefs, the sanctity of these ancient forests will last.

Several hectares of swamps used to exist in nearly every Uttara Kannada district village. However, the rise of plantations and human-dominated land has led to a decline in Myristica swamps across the Western Ghats. Today, very few swamps remain. But the traditions surrounding sacred swamps are still alive in the heart of the Western Ghats, and as long as people pass on these beliefs, the sanctity of these ancient forests will last.