From folklore to future: How Indigenous practices are steering climate solutions in India and beyond

Wed, 22/10/2025 - 15:04

In ancient Tamil thought, land was not just a setting for human life but a living companion. Sangam literature used the idea of Thinai to describe an ecological and cultural landscape where people, land, climate, emotions, and livelihoods were seen as one connected system. The five Thinais, Kurinji (mountains), Mullai (pastoral forests), Marutham (farmland), Neithal (coastal life), and Palai (arid land), were not just terrains but ways of living in balance with nature.

In this worldview, farmers cared for Marutham, coastal communities read the winds of Neithal, and pastoral clans moved with the seasonal rhythm of Mullai. Life and ecology were not separate. To live ethically meant to live in alignment with land, water, seasons, and seeds. Today, as climate change disrupts these natural rhythms through droughts, floods, and disappearing commons, this ecological imagination reminds us that sustainability is not a modern invention. It is an old memory carried within culture.
For centuries, communities across India have lived by similar principles, relying on traditional knowledge woven into folklore, farming practices, water systems, and rituals. These are not just cultural expressions of the past but living guides to resilience. From millet revival in Karnataka to community-led water harvesting in Rajasthan, from sacred groves in Kerala to fisherfolk in Tamil Nadu reading wind and waves, indigenous wisdom continues to shape practical climate solutions for the present.

Reviving Millets: A Climate-Smart Grain

One of the most striking examples comes from India’s ongoing millet revival. In Udaipur district, Rajasthan, an initiative has reintroduced indigenous millet varieties among several hundred farmers. This revival is not only restoring soil fertility but also improving community nutrition and offering livelihood opportunities. Local Anganwadi centres have even started serving millet-based dishes to children, combining traditional knowledge with modern nutritional interventions.

In Karnataka, the government’s Raitha Siri and Millet Mission programs are encouraging farmers in dryland regions like Chitradurga, Tumakuru, and Raichur to return to traditional millets such as ragi, foxtail, and little millet. Farmer cooperatives and women’s self-help groups are building local value chains and promoting millet-based foods in schools and urban markets, helping boost climate resilience and reconnect communities with traditional food culture.

In Kerala’s Attappadi hills, Adivasi communities have embraced the “Millet Village” initiative, growing multiple types of millet while conserving traditional seeds through community exchange. Similarly, in Assam, smallholder farmers from tribal groups are turning to barnyard, pearl, and foxtail millet as part of a sustainable food security strategy.

These practices demonstrate how crops once dismissed as “poor man’s food” are being rediscovered as climate-smart grains capable of withstanding drought and heat. At the same time, tensions exist, such as in Odisha, where tribal farmers fear that government millet schemes may displace native varieties in favour of high-yielding but less diverse alternatives.

Water Wisdom: Ancient Harvesting Revived

Water scarcity has always shaped India’s traditional knowledge systems, and many of these practices are now making a comeback. In Bhoyal village, Baran district of Rajasthan, a community-led initiative built a rainwater harvesting pond that can store over 700,000 litres of water, ensuring drinking and irrigation needs even during dry spells.

Western Rajasthan has also revived the use of traditional tankas, underground rainwater storage systems. Once built with mud, they are now being modernised with reinforced concrete under the MGNREGA scheme, helping families store clean water for months and adapt to worsening droughts.

In Jakhda village, Jhunjhunu district of Rajasthan, rooftop rainwater harvesting has transformed the community. Every household now collects between 20,000 and 30,000 litres annually, virtually ending their water crisis during peak summers.

These examples show that traditional systems of water conservation remain some of the most effective and affordable ways to build resilience against climate extremes.

Sacred Groves and Legal Recognition

Traditional ecological knowledge is not limited to agriculture and water. Sacred groves and community-protected forests offer another window into how cultural practices safeguard ecosystems. In Rajasthan, thousands of sacred groves known as Orans have long provided shade, water retention, biodiversity, and spiritual identity. In December 2024, India’s Supreme Court ordered that these Orans be surveyed, mapped, and legally notified as forests.

Goa, with its own heritage of sacred groves, is expected to benefit from similar recognition after a Supreme Court directive called for a national policy on their protection. These legal steps mark a crucial moment where indigenous cultural practices receive institutional support as climate-relevant conservation strategies.

Women’s Dream Maps in Odisha

Beyond forests and farms, community-driven innovations in India are also reshaping how climate adaptation is envisioned. In Odisha, adivasi women have created “dream maps” of their villages, comparing past and present landscapes and imagining restored futures. Their surveys revealed that common lands had shrunk by about 25 percent since the 1960s. By presenting these maps to local authorities, they are not only asserting their rights to manage common resources but also positioning indigenous perspectives, such as traditional ecological knowledge and community-based water and land management, within formal climate and development planning.

Singing Traditions to Prevent Wildfires

Culture and tradition can also serve as powerful communication tools in environmental protection. In Odisha, the 15th-century devotional singing practice of “sankirtan mandalis” has been adapted to raise awareness about forest fires. By singing about the dangers of burning leaf litter, these groups have helped reduce local fire incidents by up to a third in some areas.

The blending of spiritual tradition with environmental education demonstrates that climate messaging can be most effective when rooted in familiar cultural forms.

Global Echoes of Indigenous Knowledge

Stories from outside India echo these themes. Indigenous women in Latin America, for example, have used memory maps and landscape drawings to reclaim degraded lands and influence restoration policies. Indigenous fire management in Australia and traditional water harvesting systems in Peru also reflect the same principle: knowledge refined over centuries of interaction with ecosystems can offer low-cost, resilient responses to today’s global climate crisis.

According to a UN report, Indigenous peoples safeguard nearly 80% of global biodiversity despite representing only 6% of humanity. Still, they receive under 1% of climate finance, a clear indication that recognition alone is not enough.

Lessons for Climate Resilience

These experiences teach us important lessons. Traditional systems thrive on diversity and decentralisation, making them naturally more resilient than monocultures or centralised models. They carry cultural legitimacy, which means communities are more likely to sustain them over time. When supported by legal frameworks, as seen with the Supreme Court’s recognition of sacred groves, they can be scaled and protected effectively.

Women often emerge as central figures in these practices, whether through seed saving, food preparation, or mapping, highlighting the gendered dimension of climate knowledge. At the same time, challenges persist. Market pressures and government interventions sometimes push high-yield crops at the cost of traditional diversity. Urbanisation and migration threaten the continuity of rituals and oral traditions. Climate change itself is altering rainfall patterns and ecosystems, requiring traditional practices to adapt and evolve.

Therefore, the future lies not in choosing between tradition and technology but in weaving them together. Satellite mapping combined with community surveys, drone surveillance alongside sacred grove protection, or government subsidies linked to indigenous seed use are examples of hybrid approaches that can build climate resilience.

Conclusion: Listening to the Past for the Future

India’s climate journey reveals that traditional knowledge is not frozen in the past. It adapts, survives, and thrives when recognised, respected, and integrated into broader climate policies. By honouring millet farmers in Assam, protecting sacred groves in Rajasthan, amplifying women’s dream maps in Odisha, reviving water harvesting in Rajasthan, and learning from cultural practices like devotional singing, we see how folklore and tradition can directly inform climate solutions.

Globally, similar stories affirm that indigenous practices are not just cultural curiosities but indispensable parts of a resilient future. The urgency of climate change demands innovation, but it also demands humility. Sometimes the most profound innovations lie in listening to those who have lived sustainably for generations.

“We do not inherit the Earth from our ancestors; we borrow it from our children.” This proverb captures the essence of all these practices, reminding us that the wisdom encoded in folklore, the resilience embedded in traditional farming, and the reverence preserved in sacred landscapes together offer a compass for the future.