Century-old jhum cultivation in crisis

Simanapara is a hill village in Dighinala upazila of Khagrachhari. After travelling for quite some time over steep hills, we met 72-year-old Bonoranjan Tripura. His jhum (slash-and-burn) field stretches across the hillside. There is paddy in one place, pumpkin in another. Elsewhere grow chilli, sesame, maize, turmeric and beans. This practice of cultivating multiple crops simultaneously on a single plot of land is known as jhum. However, this may be one of the last few jhum fields Bonoranjan will ever cultivate.

Speaking to Prothom Alo, Bonoranjan said he is not sure whether he will be able to continue jhum cultivation from next year. He has grown old. Apart from his wife, Dantarani Tripura, and two dependants, no one remains in the family. None of his three sons or three daughters is involved in jhum cultivation anymore. It has also become difficult to find labourers in the hills. An even bigger challenge, however, is land.

As a child, Bonoranjan accompanied his father to the jhum fields and saw that cultivation on the same hill would take place only once every 10 to 12 years. By then, plants had regrown and the soil had regained its fertility. That opportunity no longer exists. He cultivated jhum this year on the same hill where he had farmed just three years ago. As a result, yields are no longer what they used to be. Now fertilisers and pesticides have to be used in jhum cultivation, although there was once no need for either.

It is late afternoon in the middle of the month of Shraban. Waves of greenery surround the hills. The green of Bonoranjan's jhum field is not particularly deep, while the distant hills are covered in much denser green, and the hills farther away appear bluish. Jhum fields can also be seen on several nearby hills. Captured by a camera or drone, this carpet of greenery looks breathtaking. But only jhum cultivators, or jhumias, know how difficult it is to farm on such steep hillsides

It is through this hard work that people like Bonoranjan make a living. Yet there is disappointment in his voice: "In the past, the crops from jhum would sustain us throughout the year. Even now, mine lasts for about 10 months. But many people cannot get through even six months anymore. How are we supposed to survive in the hills?"

With the arrival of the monsoon, the hills of the Chattogram Hill Tracts are covered in lush greenery. Amid the green, small patches of open land can be seen here and there. On these plots, paddy, maize, pumpkin, chilli, sesame, ginger, turmeric, beans and many other crops grow together. This is markedly different from the single-crop farming practised on the plains. This multi-crop farming system of the hills is known as jhum.

For many Indigenous communities in the Chattogram Hill Tracts, jhum is not merely a farming system; it is a way of life, encompassing food culture, social relationships, festivals, beliefs, and knowledge accumulated over generations.

However, jhum has long been the subject of debate. One side argues that it is a major cause of deforestation, soil erosion and biodiversity loss. On the other hand, various international studies suggest that such a simplified explanation does not fully reflect the reality.

The environmental impact of jhum depends on how it is practised, how long it takes before cultivation returns to the same plot, and the overall land management of the hills. When land is left fallow for a sufficiently long period, vegetation regenerates, allowing soil fertility and its ability to resist erosion to recover. But when the fallow period becomes too short, pressure increases on the soil, forest regeneration, biodiversity and agricultural production.

Research by the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations and Center for International Forestry Research (CIFOR) and World Agroforestry (ICRAF) argue that jhum should not be viewed simply as a driver of permanent deforestation.

Instead, its cyclical land-use system, the regeneration of secondary forests on fallow land, and its role in supporting local livelihoods should all be taken into account. Nowadays, research places greater emphasis on ensuring appropriate cultivation cycles, securing land rights, and adopting integrated landscape-based management, rather than eliminating jhum altogether.

In different parts of the world, jhum is known by various names, including shifting cultivation and swidden agriculture. It is also often referred to as slash-and-burn agriculture.

Researchers, however, are cautious about using the latter term, as it reduces the entire farming system to the cutting and burning of vegetation. In reality, traditional jhum is primarily a rotational system of cultivation and fallowing.

Under this system, a plot of hill land is typically cultivated for a short period and then left fallow for several years or even longer. During the fallow period, vegetation regenerates naturally, soil fertility and its resistance to erosion improve, and the land gradually develops the characteristics of a secondary forest. Farmers cultivate other plots during this time and return to the original land after completing the rotation.

This fallow period is the essence of jhum. There is no fixed number of years that land must remain fallow. It depends on factors such as soil conditions, slope, rainfall, vegetation type and the intensity of previous use. Elderly jhumias in the Chattogram Hill Tracts recall that, in many areas, they used to return to the same plot only after 10 to 20 years or even longer. Now, in many places, they have to return within just three to five years.

Traditional jhum generally does not require large-scale irrigation systems, heavy agricultural machinery or substantial capital investment. Nor is the soil deeply ploughed. Raja Debashish Roy, Chief of the Chakma Circle, said, "Indigenous people do not want to plough the land. They regard it as an injury to the soil. In jhum, only a small amount of soil is lifted to place the seeds. The philosophy at the heart of jhum is not to injure the land. Another important point is that, in these hills, there is really no alternative to jhum."

Jhum cultivation is practised not only in the Chattogram Hill Tracts but also among the Garo community in Madhupur of Tangail and in the Mymensingh division.

The history of the Chattogram Hill Tracts cannot be told without jhum. Land use, settlement patterns, food habits, social relationships, and even festivals and religious practices have long revolved around jhum cultivation.

Various communities—including the Chakma, Marma, Tripura, Tanchangya, Mro, Bawm, Khumi, Khyang, Pankhua, Chak and Lusai—have practised jhum using their own traditional methods. Jhum is not identical across all communities; the crops grown, cultivation calendar and farming practices vary depending on the local environment and culture.

Over the past several decades, land use in the Chattogram Hill Tracts has changed significantly. In the 1960s, the Kaptai Hydroelectric Project submerged vast valleys and agricultural land, displacing many families and increasing pressure on hillside farming.

Later, population growth, new settlements, reserved forests, roads, tourism, fruit orchards, rubber plantations and other commercial cultivation, as well as development projects, gradually reduced the amount of land available for jhum cultivation.

The greatest impact has been on the jhum cultivation cycle. Land that was once left fallow for many years now often has to be cultivated again within just a few years. As a result, forests have less time to regenerate, pressure on soil organic matter and fertility has increased, weeds and crop diseases have become more prevalent, and crop yields have declined.

Manju Bikash Tripura of Kumardhan Para in Khagrachhari speaks of these changes in jhum cultivation. He began working in the jhum fields with his father at the age of 12. Back then, about three ari (roughly 30 kilograms) of paddy seed would be sown. A single jhum field would contain at least five varieties of indigenous rice—including Gelong, Kumpui and Kaiunchal—along with sesame, cotton, pumpkin and chilli. One field was enough to provide food for the entire family throughout the year.

This year, however, Manju Bikash sowed only nine kilograms of paddy seed. Of that, just three kilograms were indigenous Bini paddy, while the rest was the high-yielding B-20 variety. He also planted some maize, marfa and sweet pumpkin. He said, "After me, there will be no jhumiya left in my family."

Manju Bikash's two sons are educated. One graduated from the Rangamati University of Science and Technology, while the other is a diploma engineer. Neither of them plans to return to the hills to practise jhum cultivation.

The number of such families is growing in Kumardhan Para. The village is home to 170 families. More than half have at least one member working in the ready-made garment industry, while others have family members employed overseas. Many families connected to the garment sector have abandoned jhum cultivation.

Deepan Tripura is one of four brothers. He and another brother work in the garment industry, while the remaining two also do not practise jhum. Deepan said, "My father stopped cultivating jhum two years ago. He can no longer do it because of old age. Perhaps no one in our family will continue this cultivation anymore."

Alongside the emergence of new sources of income in the hill economy, fruit cultivation has also expanded. Manju Bikash owns more than a hundred mango trees and has recently planted litchi trees as well. Many other families in the village have followed the same path.

The data from the Department of Agricultural Extension also reflects this change. However, comparisons of these figures can be misleading unless the years and sources are clearly specified. According to data provided by the respective district offices of the Department of Agricultural Extension, the area under jhum cultivation in Bandarban declined from 9,020 hectares in the 2020–21 fiscal year to 8,174 hectares in 2025–26. During the same period, the area under fruit cultivation increased from 46,104 hectares to 51,832 hectares.

In Rangamati, the area under jhum cultivation fell from 6,510 hectares to 5,002 hectares over the same period, while land under fruit cultivation increased from 35,318 hectares to 36,990 hectares.

In Khagrachhari, the area under jhum cultivation stood at 2,195 hectares in the 2014–15 fiscal year. By 2025–26, it had declined to 1,150 hectares. During the same period, production fell from 2,816 tonnes to 2,128 tonnes.

Jhum is not a farming system unique to a single country. Long before the expansion of permanent agriculture, people in many mountainous regions of the world produced food through this method. Even today, jhum continues to exist in various forms across many parts of South and Southeast Asia, Africa, Latin America and the Pacific Islands.

This farming system remains closely linked to the food security and livelihoods of many Indigenous communities in north-eastern India, Myanmar, Laos, Vietnam, Indonesia, the Philippines and Papua New Guinea. Research shows that traditional jhum, when practised with long fallow periods, often creates a cycle between cultivated land, secondary forests and multi-crop farming.

One of the defining characteristics of jhum is its multi-crop cultivation. A single jhum field can produce many different crops during the same growing season. Paddy, maize, pumpkin, bottle gourd, beans, yardlong beans, chilli, sesame, turmeric, ginger, taro, pulses and cotton are cultivated together. This increases food diversity. Even if one crop fails, other crops can still provide food or income for the family.

The most common criticism of jhum concerns the use of fire. In traditional jhum, dried vegetation is burned in a controlled manner. The ash adds nutrients, including potash, to the soil and helps suppress weeds. However, the environmental impact of fire depends on factors such as the size and slope of the land, weather conditions, fire management practices and the length of the cultivation cycle. Therefore, the mere fact that fire is used is not enough to classify all jhum cultivation as either environmentally friendly or environmentally harmful.

A key finding of recent research is that traditional jhum with long cultivation cycles should not be treated the same as short-cycle jhum practised because of land scarcity. Under short fallow periods, secondary forests do not fully regenerate, soil organic matter declines, weeds become more prevalent, and agricultural production comes under increasing pressure.

Similarly, it is misleading to identify jhum as the sole cause of deforestation in the hills. Commercial agriculture and monoculture plantations, road construction, settlement expansion, timber extraction, tourism, development projects and population pressure have all contributed to changes in land use.

Khaled Misbahuzzaman, a professor at the Institute of Forestry and Environmental Sciences at the University of Chittagong, told Prothom Alo, "Jhum did not suddenly emerge in the Chattogram Hill Tracts. The land available for jhum has shrunk for various reasons. The people who depend on jhum should not be blamed for this. Moreover, jhum is not practised only in Bangladesh; it exists in many countries around the world. It cannot simply be described as an environmentally harmful form of agriculture."

Whenever jhum cultivation in the Chattogram Hill Tracts is discussed, the most common claim is that it destroys forests. For many years, this view has been presented almost as an established fact in government documents, development projects and numerous media reports. Seeing trees being cut, dried and burned on the hillsides, it is easy to assume that jhum inevitably leads to permanent deforestation.

The Forest Department still has a division called the Jhum Control Division. According to the division's official description, its responsibilities include controlling jhum cultivation, preventing soil erosion, increasing productivity, carrying out afforestation and rehabilitating jhumiya families.

According to the website of the Rangamati Forest Division, a total of 40,147.50 acres have been brought under plantations through the revenue budget and various projects. Although 460 jhumiya families were rehabilitated at different stages, 435 families later left the rehabilitation areas due to the situation in the Chattogram Hill Tracts and law-and-order concerns. These data also highlight the limitations of the rehabilitation initiatives.

Among some officials of the Department of Agricultural Extension, controlling jhum also remains a priority. Md Aminur Islam, Additional Director (Crops) of the Department of Agricultural Extension in Rangamati, said that forests are burned while practising jhum cultivation in the hills. "This practice is not good, he said.

On the other hand, research by Center for International Forestry Research (CIFOR) and World Agroforestry (ICRAF) distinguishes between traditional swidden agriculture and the permanent clearing of forests for large-scale commercial agriculture. Under jhum, land is left fallow after cultivation, allowing vegetation to regenerate. In contrast, under permanent plantations or other forms of land use, that regenerative cycle may no longer exist.

As we sat in Bonoranjan's jhum hut talking, he repeatedly expressed his regret that he could not offer his guests anything to eat. According to him, in the past, by the middle of the month of Sraban, several kinds of fruits from the jhum fields would already have been available. He said, "Now the sun and rain have become completely unpredictable. In Boishakh, there is either too little rain or too much. Everything is upside down now." This jhumiya from the remote hills is unfamiliar with the term climate change, but he clearly feels its effects in nature.

Jhum cultivation depends on seasonal cycles and rainfall. If rain does not arrive on time, seeds either fail to germinate or are damaged. On the other hand, excessive rainfall over a short period can wash away soil and seeds down the hillsides. Many jhum cultivators said that in recent years both the timing and pattern of rainfall have become increasingly unpredictable. Some said they had to delay sowing because of the lack of rain in Baishakh, while others reported soil erosion and the emergence of new pests due to excessive rainfall.

Bimala Tripura, a woman jhumiya farmer from Kumardhan Para, said excessive heat is affecting crop production. Pests and weeds have increased, leading to greater dependence on pesticides.

In 2025, the Bangladesh Meteorological Department and the Norwegian Meteorological Institute jointly conducted a study titled "Changing Climate in Bangladesh", examining weather patterns in Bangladesh over the past 43 years.

The study found that the Chattogram Hill Tracts have developed a distinct pattern in both rainfall and temperature. Previously, the region would typically experience only one major heatwave between July and September. Over the past 10 years, however, the number of heatwaves has increased to three or four.

The study also found that extremely heavy rainfall—defined as more than 88 millimetres of rain—during the post-monsoon period has increased in many cases over the past decade. In July this year alone, the region received 1,400 millimetres of rainfall within just one week.

Md Bazlur Rashid, senior meteorologist at the Bangladesh Meteorological Department, who also the research, said that when temperatures become extremely high, irrigation can be provided on the plains by extracting groundwater. "But that is not possible for jhum cultivation in the hills. Likewise, unseasonal torrential rainfall can destroy jhum crops," he said.

Many jhumias say that numerous crops commonly grown two or three decades ago are no longer seen. Indigenous rice varieties have declined, cotton has almost disappeared, and sesame cultivation has also decreased in many areas. The jhumias' own seed banks are shrinking as well.

Zabarang Kalyan Samity, a non-governmental organisation in Khagrachhari, is providing jhumias with seeds of 15 different crops, including cotton and sesame. The organisation's Executive Director, Mathura Bikash Tripura, told Prothom Alo, "Many crops that were once widely grown are no longer cultivated. We want farmers to grow them again and bring those products to the market. We are also encouraging the cultivation of roselle, which is easy to transport."

In the past, jhum primarily served as a source of food for the family. Today, in many places, market demand and the need for cash income are also influencing crop selection. Some jhum crops also fetch relatively good prices.

Raja Debashish Roy said jhum cannot remain untouched by the market economy. However, he stressed that the transition must be managed in a way that preserves jhum's multi-crop character, indigenous seeds, food security and the traditional knowledge of jhumias.

Land, cultivation cycles and inheritance are shrinking

The crisis facing jhum in the Chattogram Hill Tracts is not merely a crisis of an agricultural system. Available land is shrinking, cultivation cycles are becoming shorter, indigenous seeds are disappearing, climate uncertainty is increasing, and younger generations are moving into other professions. At the same time, the expansion of fruit orchards and market-oriented agriculture is transforming the hill economy.

Just as it is wrong to indiscriminately label traditional jhum as environmentally harmful, it is equally wrong to deny the harmful impacts of shortened cultivation cycles, excessive pressure on the land and uncontrolled use of fire. The question, therefore, is not simply whether jhum should survive. Rather, it is how this farming system can be sustained while protecting jhumias' land rights, ensuring adequate fallow periods, and preserving indigenous seeds and traditional knowledge.

After Bonoranjan Tripura, his children are unlikely to continue practising jhum. After Manju Bikash, there will be no jhumiya left in his family either. Along with them may disappear generations of knowledge about the hills—the understanding of soil, rainfall, seeds and the changing seasons. And that may ultimately be a greater loss than the shrinking of jhum land itself.