Right to Information
I remember my grandma telling me a story. There was a demon who created havoc in a kingdom. The demon did evil things and the king did not know how to deal with it. The only ray of hope was that the king had a part of the map of the area where the demon resided. However, the other part of the map was missing. There were chances, if the king gets the remaining part of the map, the demon may be located and eventually may get killed. The story is not yet complete. The demon is yet to be killed but where is the map?
The search continues…
Last year some time in December, when I was interacting with some of the students at the University of Allahabad, I started the discussion by asking if anyone had seen the map of Allahabad city. The answer was no. In fact, even myself, despite spending my entire formative years in Allahabad, I have yet to see the map of Allahabad city. A historical city known for its religious and political activities, does n’t have a map? And even if it does, I don’t know where it is and who has it?
The intentions behind
What led us to make a map? Since time immemorial, maps are being made. People did make maps on clay when they neither had computer nor paper. Eskimos of the Canadian Arctic to the Bedwin tribesmen of the Arabian desert had an almost inborn skill to produce rough but quite accurate sketches on pieces of skin or in the sand, indicating the positions and distances of the localities known to them. The ‘Mahabharata’ is the first among the Sanskrit literary sources that has a separate section devoted to the geography of the Indian subcontinent and its adjacent countries in central Asia. In the Rig Veda, ‘Nadi Stuti’ (River Hymn) enumerates most of the 31 rivers of South Asia. The chart postulating a symmetrical four-continental earth (Catur-Dvipa Vasumati) probably represents the oldest formal cosmography in India, formulated in ancient Brahmanical times. (GIS@development January 2000).
What is this desire? A desire to locate from anything to everything on the earth. A desire to know about ourselves, about our surroundings, our earth, our universe. Or is it a desperation to find a footing on this vast earth?
In the context of mapping in India, Mathew H Edney, the author of ‘Mapping An Empire’, writes “Imperialism and map making intersect in the most basic manner; in order to “possess” or even comprehend a territory, one must map it”. As Edney investigates the century long British effort to “transform a land of incomprehensible spectacle into an empire of knowledge”, focussing especially on the Great Trigonometric Survey (GTS) undertaken by the East India Company, that relates how the modern scientific survey techniques led to legitimate its colonial activities as triumphs of liberal, rational science bringing “civilisation” to irrational, mystic and despotic Indians.” The country was mapped to exploit and glorify the imperial power of British. However, the efforts to map this country with such accuracy was no easy task. John Keay, in his book ‘The Great Arc’ writes in foreword, “The Great Arc was hailed as ‘one of the most stupendous works in the whole history of science’. It was ‘as near perfect a thing of its kind as ever been undertaken’. …If the impression given is less that of a scientific set-piece and more of a monumental example of human endeavour, then so it was. This 1600 miles of inch perfect survey took nearly fifty years, cost more lives than most contemporary wars, and involved equations more complex than any in the pre-computer age.”
Whether this mapping enterprise was undertaken to cater the need of imperialists or it was a typical scientific adventure of mankind or it may be the combination of both, people may have different opinions. But, the fact remains, when the British left this country, India was mapped considerably. They knew this country much more than us. Hence, they used the information for their purpose. No problems. They anyway did not come to this country for charity. The more important question is what happened thereafter?
Followed the legacy, religiously
In India, we feel a burden of carrying the British legacy. And we did it religiously. Maps in India are chained. “Nearly 227 out of 385 degree toposheets come under restricted category and cannot be accessed in normal course. The Survey of India catalogue published in 1962 is also restricted. The basic reason for restriction is more due to security apprehensions of Government of India. The area restricted includes whole of Jammu and Kashmir, northern and eastern districts of Himachal Pradesh, northern districts of Uttaranchal, Sikkim, the whole North east. In south, all topographical and geographical maps of the area between thick line and coast belt (on Survey of India Index map) on the scale larger than 1:1 M, South of 200 latitude are restricted. All topographic and geographical maps pertaining to outlying islands viz. Andaman and Nicobar, Lakshdweep. Mini Coy and Amindivi on scale 1:1 M or larger are restricted.” (S V Srikantia, Restriction on maps: A denial of valid geographic information, Current Science, Vol 79, No 4, 25 August 2000).