The average dairy cow in the US produces 30 liters of milk per day; A cow in Africa, only 1.6. This 19-fold difference – call it the dairy divide – has huge consequences. Stopping even some of this would reduce poverty, provide better nutrition to children, reduce greenhouse gas emissions and perhaps even reduce the likelihood of civil war. The good news is that cows can become more productive due to the proliferation of old and new technologies. But unhelpful traditions—and climate change itself—make this difficult.

Cows are not fashionable in rich countries. Health-conscious people are abandoning red meat and switching to plant-based milk. The environmentally conscious concern is that cattle account for 7% of man-made greenhouse-gas emissions – far more than any other type of livestock. And techno-optimists have predicted, ever since lab-grown beef was first unveiled in 2013, that cruelty-free cultured meat, as cheap and tasty as it gets, will replace meat harvested from slaughtered animals.

Maybe that day will come. But for now, cows are becoming more important, not less (see Chart 1). The Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations (FAO) expects global beef consumption to increase 11% by 2033, and milk consumption to increase 17% by 2033, as the human population grows and more people can afford more animal protein.

There are two challenges before the farmers. First, to meet the growing demand for bovine bounty, even warmer, less predictable weather makes their work harder in many areas. Second, to stop our cows from belching so much planet-cooking methane.

In the first area, progress has been impressive, albeit uneven (see Chart 2). In India, home to the world’s largest herd, selective breeding and better husbandry could increase milk yield per cow from 3.8 liters per day in 2013 to 5.3 in 2022. The global increase was more modest: from 6.4 to 7.4 litres. FAO’s Dominic Visser says livestock in poor countries lag far behind their rich-world counterparts, meaning “the opportunity to catch up to growth is huge.”

Sadly, bovine emissions are increasing. Farmers have little incentive to reduce these. Governments are unwilling to impose regulations that could drive up food prices, consumers are wary of feed additives like bower that curb methane, and emissions from cows are harder to monitor than power stations, because 1.5 of them Billions and their owners. Are generally nomadic.

Yet, increasing productivity – which farmers are strongly encouraged to do – reduces emissions per glass of milk. Sonja Leitner of the International Livestock Research Institute (ILRI) in Nairobi says one cow producing ten liters of milk per day emits much less methane than two cows producing five liters of the gas. FAO considered 11 ways to cut bovine emissions: Before tampering with cows’ genes and diets, it would be important to increase productivity.

The first step is ridiculously low-tech. Alfred Kering, a smallholder near Eldoret in Kenya, increased his daily production from one liter to eight liters by reducing the number of cows he had per cow. He kept as many cattle as possible because among his people, the Kalenjin, a man is judged by the size of his herd. The problem was that he did not have enough land to feed all ten of them properly. An agricultural extension officer suggested he sell something. Now she only has three, but they are well nourished and produce more than twice as much milk as ten. He sells the surplus and is apparently less poor. His children, he says, get better food and get sick less; And he will no longer have to struggle to pay school fees.

The next step in increasing productivity—selective breeding—is more sophisticated. One cannot simply take a high-yielding American cow, drop it into Africa and expect it to thrive. The heat and insects will definitely kill it. Farmers need hybrids that are good milk producers, but also flexible to local conditions. One problem is that small owners like Mr. Kering generally do not keep any records of their cows’ bloodlines. Some people rent a neighbor’s bull when they need to impregnate, leading to inbreeding and unhealthy offspring. Others have tried to create better hybrids, but have been hampered by not knowing what to start with.

So since 2016, scientists at Africa Asia Dairy Genetic Gains (AADGG), a project run by ILRI and supported by the Gates Foundation, have been collecting data on cow genetics and productivity in developing countries. They have extracted hair from 15,000 cows in Ethiopia, Kenya and Tanzania and used the DNA to create a database of bovine genomes.

Additionally, AADGG works with a mobile app that lets farmers collect and relay data about each cow’s milk, health, location, etc. It then uses models to predict which genetic combinations may work best in specific locations. At first, it was hard to persuade smallholders to share information – many thought it would be used to make them pay taxes. But eventually, working with a firm called iCow, AADGG got farmers accustomed to receiving advice digitally. The project in Tanzania saw a 50% increase in productivity among those enrolled.

Knowledge is spreading slowly. Daniel Kemboi, another Kalenjin farmer, says he finds the right bull semen by searching on Google. He browses a website that lets him choose traits ranging from higher milk yield to greater heat tolerance. Their yield has increased from 12-15 liters per cow five years ago to 26. They have also built a cow shed for shade to escape the rising temperatures – a problem that all the local farmers complain about. He says that now he earns ten times more money than he did when he drove trucks in his childhood.

At the national level, productivity per Kenyan dairy cow is expected to increase from 1.8 liters in 2013 to 2.3 in 2022. This is higher than the African average, but potentially much lower than what farmers have shown in the AADGG project. This is much less than the needs of the local people. About 35% of Kenyans are undernourished. The extra protein and iron needed for brain development will come in handy – and indeed for the 22% of the world’s children under five who are stunted due to lack of good food. A study by Baillieu Hailey and Derek Headey of the International Food Policy Research Institute in Washington found that increasing milk consumption in a country was associated with larger reductions in stunting, even after controlling for income.

The pressure to adapt is particularly intense among nomadic pastoralists. “After the rain we would move from one place to another,” recalls Daniel Sinkit, a 59-year-old Maasai herder from southern Kenya. The severe drought in 2021–23 made them realize that their lifestyle is not sustainable.

When local pastureland dried up, they tried to protect their cows in the traditional way – taking them on a 200 km journey to find fresh grass and water, and turning in at night to escape the heat. Many died of thirst or disease. He had to sell to others at depressing prices to buy fodder for the survivors. His herd dwindled from 300 head to 200 head.

If the drought becomes more severe, conflict between herders and sedentary farmers may increase. In good years herders graze their cows on marginal land until farmers harvest their crops. Then, with the farmers’ permission, they would let their cows eat the stubble and pay the farmers in cash and cow dung. But when there is no rain, herders have to leave before the harvest arrives and their cows often destroy unharvested crops. This may instigate conflicts, which may turn into ethnic conflict. A study by Eoin McGuirk of Tufts University and Nathan Nunn of Harvard found that drought in pastoral areas accounted for a “large proportion” of conflicts, including civil wars, in Africa between 1989 and 2018.

Mr. Sinkitt reluctantly concludes that the solution is to settle down. Instead of letting his cows wander far and wide, he now brings most of his food to them. He grows corn, alfalfa and Napier hay and feeds them into troughs. As a proud Maasai man, having to stop traveling is a psychological crisis for him. But if herders’ productivity increases and they become more stable, a major cause of war in Africa could finally end.

Smallholders struggling to feed their children rarely think about their contribution to global warming. But ILRI is helping some countries better estimate their bovine emissions, so they can one day be cut. In an experiment in Nairobi, cows are placed in a metal box called a respiration chamber, equipped with instruments to measure how much methane they belch. Researchers are testing whether altering their diets with locally available beans would make them produce more and emit less.

man’s best enemy

Even rich countries do little to curb livestock emissions. A partial exception is the state of California, which has a goal of reducing methane emissions by 40% below 2013 levels by 2030, and has designed regulations and subsidies to encourage farmers to make their contribution. One technique is to capture methane and sell it as fuel (which is less harmful than letting it float away).

“It’s just feces,” says Simon Vander Woude, a dairy farmer from Merced, near Sacramento, pointing to a tube filled with thick brown liquid. Water currents wash the dung from their 3,200 cows into a pit beneath the tarpaulin. It is an anaerobic digester, a device that uses bacteria to break down organic waste into methane. Walking on a tarp filled with gas feels like jumping on a bulbous trampoline. Biogas is refined and sold. Before 2017, there were fewer than 20 digesters in California; Today at least 149 are in operation or under construction. Private companies offer to build and maintain digesters to earn a cut of state subsidies and the income from selling gas.

Mr Vander Woude’s digester cost $4 million, but is now making a comeback. And there are other promising technologies, too. Studies show that adding red seaweed to cattle feed can prevent methane emissions, although estimates by how much vary widely.

A Texas firm, STGenetics, sells a device to help farmers raise cows that produce more milk while eating and thus emit less. The firm’s chief scientific officer, Pablo Rosse, says “there is still a lot of work to do” to convince farmers that this will save them money (on feed) without sacrificing other qualities.

If cow burps and farts were taxed in a way that reflected their harmful impact on the climate, farmers would have incentives to curb them, and consumers would have incentives to cut back on emissions-heavy foods. will get. In June the Danish government said it would impose a levy on emissions from livestock. So far, this is the only one.

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In the Hindu epic Ramayana, Prince Rama of Ayodhya, his wife Sita, and his brother Lakshmana meet Viradha, a ferocious rakshasa (demon), in the dense forests of Dandakaranya. Viradha not only clashes with the brothers but also abducts Sita. This act foreshadows the final few events of the epic. In theatrical adaptations of the Ramayana, Viradha is often portrayed as pure evil.

On the chilly evening of November 26, in the remote village of Ralaba in the Ganjam district of Odisha, a farmer, Bimbadhar Gouda, played Viradha at a Jatra, a form of folk theatre that is popular across Odisha and West Bengal. Instead of bringing a prop to ‘devour’, Gouda had brought a live pig instead. “When he ripped the pig apart, there was a stunned silence in the audience,” recalled Sadasiba Jena, a villager who watched the play that day.

When footage of the incident, seen by a few as an “immersive performance”, surfaced on social media and TV news channels, drama enthusiasts and animal rights activists were enraged.

“Using any live animal or bird in a cultural performance including cinema and drama is illegal without the permission of the Animal Welfare Board of India. There are clear guidelines which prohibit animal cruelty during stage performances. In Ganjam, the theatre groups are probably not aware of the guidelines,” said Biswajit Mohanty, a wildlife expert and secretary, Wildlife Society of Orissa.

Also read | Odisha stage actor held for killing pig during performance, eating its raw meat

In the Odisha Assembly, ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) lawmakers Babu Singh and Sanatan Bijuli demanded that those responsible for the act be held accountable. The actor and the procurer of the pig now face multiple cases under sections pertaining to animal cruelty under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita, 2023, and the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Act, 1960. The case has shone a spotlight on the changing character of Jatra.

Where there are no limits

Jatra is usually performed on an open-air stage with the audience, both men and women, seated on all sides. It dates back to to the rise of Vaishnavism and the Bhakti movement during the 16th century. Back then, devotional songs and dances that were sung and performed by followers of the Bhakti movement, and plays on mythology, captivated people. Over time, social issues became central to Jatras. While Jatras include plays, music, and dance, today, stunts have taken over, in an attempt to make them more “modern” and “commercial”, said various artists and villagers.

On December 12, past midnight in Mancheswar, a village on the outskirts of the State capital Bhubaneswar, a young man lay on stage on a bed of shattered glass under the glare of multi-coloured lights. A large rock was placed on his chest. Suddenly, another actor began hammering the boulder. Despite the sharp glass shards that could have caused serious cuts and wounds, the man who was lying down remained stoic and unscathed. The audience, seated in a sprawling makeshift enclosure, watched in awe.

Jatra is usually performed on an open-air stage with the audience seated on all sides. A Jatra performance at Ralab village in Ganjam district of south Odisha.
| Photo Credit:
Biswaranjan Rout

As the act unfolded, two young women, standing atop massive truck tyres lifted by a group of performers, waved the national flag. The audience rose to their feet. While the actors were to perform a play with social themes, acrobatics and stunts dominated the night and kept everyone spellbound.

“Stunts and ‘item numbers’ have grown in Jatras because the audience wants it. We have no choice but to match the expectations of people,” said Jagannath Bhol, a choreographer of the Rangamal theatre group, based in Bhubaneswar.

In both Ralaba and Mancheswar, the troupes use shock and awe as methods to reinvent themselves and remain relevant. This often happens at the expense of traditional storytelling formats.

“Over the last two decades, TV and films have transformed the entertainment landscape. Today, people can enjoy movies, shows, or dance performances in their living rooms at their convenience. In contrast, Jatra demands an audience that is willing to stay engaged throughout the night. Tsaid Sashidhar Patra, who has been a Jatra hopper for 40 years. “The younger generation, even in rural areas, is increasingly absorbed in (Instragram) Reels. So, Jatra has no option but to reinvent itself to sustain the audience’s interest.”

While Ralaba, a village of 1,400 families of mostly farmers and migrant labourers, is not economically affluent, it is culturally rich. Ralaba takes pride in its theatre group, Rama Bhakta Maruti, which boasts 70-80 active members at any given time. Since 1992, the group has been performing the Ramayana in Ralaba and neighbouring villages. Not just Ralaba; hundreds of villages across Ganjam have theatre groups that are dedicated to performing the Ramayana. Year after year, the residents of these villages watch the annual play with undiminished enthusiasm.

Politics, however, has divided these villages into two factions. In the past, theatre groups aligned with the Congress and the Janata Dal. Over time, loyalties shifted, and the groups stand mostly divided between the Biju Janata Dal and the Bharatiya Janata Party. This rivalry often transforms the traditional Ramayana play into a competitive spectacle known as Badi Ramayana, with each faction striving to draw larger crowds to assert their dominance. Badi Ramayana is staged with the rule that in passion and battle, limits don’t exist, especially in Ganjam district.

“In other parts of the world, a Ramayana play typically concludes within five to six hours. However, in our region, the play goes on for 13 to 14 hours,” says Nila Bhaula, a resident of Ralaba. “When troupes are drawn into competing in the Badi Ramayana, the epic is enacted for days. The actors and the audience remain immersed in the performance and often don’t even take a break.”

In one of the plays, the actor playing Vali, the king of Kishkinda in the Ramayana, lifted bullock cart wheels and cracked a tender coconut on his head. While the audience sat glued to the stage, a rival troupe performed similar stunts nearby. Immediately, the attention of the audience shifted.

“The two plays went on for 40 hours, with neither the actors nor the audience showing any signs of tiredness,” said Bhaula.

To transform or not to transform

The traditional staging of the Ramayana in Ganjam villages has undergone an incredible transformation in the last 15 years. Mythological storytelling has taken a back seat and there is an increased emphasis on sensual dances, acrobatics, gymnastics, and comedy.

It is not just that characters, especially demons and monkeys, often perform dramatic stunts, such as playing with cobras, lifting goats on stage, and killing chickens; the plays also give modern twists to iconic moments in the epic. Jatra performers said Sita sometimes makes her entrance in the bucket of an earthmover or Ravana’s kidnapping of Sita occasionally involves bullets fired in the air instead of a chariot. Across India, Sita is generally portrayed as the ‘ideal’ wife and a soft-spoken woman, but in Ganjam, she sometimes breaks into a frenzied freestyle dance, challenging the Sita on another stage to match her moves, much to the delight of the audience.

Santosh Khuntia, 50, who has played the role of Kaikeyi in Ralaba for over three decades, reflected on the evolution of the epic. “I have seen how the Ramayana has changed on stage. Purists might disapprove, but these reinventions are necessary to keep the people engaged,” he said.

Subrat Kumar Mishra, the manager of Rangamahal, a professional Jatra troupe based in Bhubaneswar, travels across districts with what he calls his “mini-world”. The troupe requires five trucks and two buses to transport equipment, including lights and sound systems, and a diverse team of artists from one location to another.

Seated on a cot behind the Jatra pandal in Mancheswar, Mishra discussed the stiff competition his troupe faces in generating revenue and sustaining the interest of the audience. The performance is meticulously structured to appeal to a wide range of viewers, he said. “The first two hours are dedicated to devotional songs, followed by an episode on Hanuman. Then we play Odia and Hindi film music. Men perform stunts and women wear short costumes and dance. All this caters to people of all age groups,” he said.

But not everyone supports these changes. Basant Dalai, a 60-year-old resident of Ralaba, said, “I don’t subscribe to today’s Ramayana. I stopped watching these shows long ago.”

Similarly, in Bikrampur village of Ganjam, Sakaleswar Roul, popularly known as the “Ramayana director”, has remained steadfast in his traditional approach to staging the epic. “Over the past 40 years, I have directed 27 theatre groups. I have never felt the need to use such distasteful measures to maintain interest,” he said.

Even though Ramayana performances are staged over several days, the community’s enthusiasm has never waned, added Roul. “People take turns staying near the stage, and at no point does the audience count drop to below 250, even between 3 a.m. and 6 a.m. By morning, the crowd quickly returns,” he said.

Though actors move around villages for seven months a year for rehearsals and performances, they don’t receive any remuneration. Most of them are farmers or daily wage earners who enjoy Jatra and perform to uphold the pride of the village. The income generated from Ramayana performances is given to the village fund and is used to support various cultural activities. “For us, this is a passion, not a profession,” Roul said.

From the sidelines to centre stage

While female dance troupes are roped in to perform as actors change clothes during a performance, women in villages don’t have any roles in the Ramayana plays. But this is not the case in Bhubaneswar. Rangamahal boasts a significant number of female artists and dancers who perform in front of large crowds. They are undeterred even when they hear lewd remarks.

In the past, women who did Jatra performances were often looked down upon. But times have changed, they say. A Jatra performance at Ralab village in Ganjam district of south Odisha.
| Photo Credit:
Biswaranjan Rout

“As women, we have to maintain our composure. Jatra audiences, who are predominantly from rural backgrounds, often attend performances in groups and don’t shy away from making vulgar remarks. While it is hurtful, we choose to take it in our stride,” said Sampoorna Swain, who has been acting in Jatra for 20 years.

In Bhubaneswar, Jatra groups and artists are professionals who demand remuneration. Jyotisikha Malla, 19, who was preparing to take the stage with her dance routine, said, “With my father working as a bus conductor, it is tough for my family to manage. I have two sisters and a younger brother to look after. I had to start earning early, and joining a Jatra troupe was the perfect opportunity.”

In the past, women who did Jatra performances were often looked down upon. But times have changed, they said. Anjana Nayak, 45, ran away from home when she was in Class 10. Since then, she has spent 30 years carving out a career in Jatra. She started with just a few hundred rupees a month. Now she earns up to ₹50,000 a month. “I am at the peak of my career,” she said, smiling.

A thriving industry

Jatra is no longer a simple gathering of artists who entertain rural audiences; it has evolved into a thriving industry. People who wish to establish a professional Jatra group need ₹8 to ₹ 10 crore. “There are about 45 major Jatra troupes travelling across Odisha for performances,” said Braja Behari Nayak, a 60-year-old character artist. “Some star performers command annual packages of up to ₹45 lakh, while a celebrated couple is said to be paid ₹60 lakh per year.”

The competition intensifies when multiple troupes perform in Bhubaneswar, elevating the quality of the acts and driving ticket prices as high as ₹1,000 per show. Securing a ticket to watch a Jatra show is a matter of luck. Bollywood celebrities such as Ameesha Patel, Rakhi Sawant, and Shakti Kapoor have also made brief appearances at these shows, boosting the industry.

“Jatra has been nothing short of a cultural revolution in Odisha,” said Naba Kishore Mania, a Jatra critic. “Some proprietors continuously innovate to keep their troupes afloat, and the earnings of certain Jatra stars rival those of top Odia film actors. It is not uncommon for Odia movie stars to step onto the Jatra stage, both to refine their acting skill and earn a lucrative paycheck.”

However, some of these radical transformations of the folk art are tarnishing Jatra’s reputation and alienating loyal Jatra enthusiasts. Unlike earlier times, some families now hesitate to attend Jatra shows together.

Bapi Panda, a leader of the Jatra Artists Association, said, “A few greedy individuals are giving us a bad name. Every art form must evolve to remain relevant, but not at the expense of its core values.”.

satyasundar.b@thehindu.co.in