Bahe, where is your home?” In the chars of Chilmari, this is not merely a polite question; it concerns a person’s very existence. A char dweller may point toward the middle of the river and say, “In the riverbed.” His former homestead, land and village have disappeared into the river. Asked where he lives now, he may reply, “I have made a deal with the river. Wherever the river goes, I go too.” This captures the reality of char life. When river erosion destroys homes, people migrate wherever they can find shelter. Their “deal” with the river is therefore not merely a metaphor, but a strategy for surviving uncertainty and adapting to the river’s constant changes.

When a Char Breaks: The breaking of a char marks the beginning of prolonged hardship. The immediate question is where to go. Some take shelter with relatives, settle on newly emerged chars or find a place through local land arrangements. A home is not a permanent address, and victims often have to find their own path to rehabilitation. This broader “deal” also includes the actual char agreement between landowners and people displaced by river erosion. After losing their homes, displaced families may make an agreement with landowners to settle on their land. They may build homes and sometimes cultivate the land in exchange for an advance payment. Such agreements are temporary: when the char disappears, so does the agreement. In Chilmari, almost every family has lived under such an arrangement at some point, while many remain under it throughout their lives.

A written char agreement may resemble a court document. It is generally prepared on government-approved stamp paper, using formal language, with witnesses’ names and the signatures or thumbprints of both parties. Sometimes seals are also used. Those who cannot write affix their thumbprints, giving an ordinary agreement an appearance of legality. Legally, however, such documents have no formal effect. The government and courts do not recognize char agreements. Yet for people who have lost everything to river erosion, the document is often their only visible assurance of being able to stay on someone else’s land. If a landowner fails to honour the agreement, victims generally have little opportunity to seek redress in court. Disputes are usually settled locally, where the landowner often has the stronger position.

The colonial-era Bengal Alluvion and Diluvion Regulations, still applicable in Bangladesh, further expose this inequality. Under the law, land submerged by river erosion temporarily becomes state property, but when the char re-emerges, the previous owner can regain ownership. Those who have lived on and cultivated the land for years gain no corresponding right. Char land relations therefore continue to operate under a centuries-old colonial logic that offers little protection to those who suffer the losses. The duration of a char agreement is essentially determined by one phrase: “as long as the char exists.” If the char survives, the agreement survives. If the river takes it away, both the landowner and resident family lose their rights. Yet if the same land emerges again, the previous owner can legally reclaim it. The family that lived there for years cannot claim a new right.

A Form of Labour and Contract: Char agreements also allow landowners to maintain their claims over land. Many owners do not live on the chars; they live upstream or in towns and cities and manage their land through local representatives. Keeping people on the land is a relatively inexpensive way of securing possession. Families made homeless by river erosion are therefore often allowed to settle there. In return, they cultivate the land, maintain possession and represent the owner’s presence. In many cases, they give one-third of the crop to the landowner, reflecting the legacy of the historic Tebhaga movement. In char areas, this labour and sharecropping-based arrangement is known as “adi kora.” Although related to char agreements, it is not the same thing.

An Unwritten Social Contract: Bangladesh is often described as a development paradox. Despite severe poverty, frequent natural disasters and climate risks, the country has achieved significant socioeconomic progress. Following the 1974 famine, a new social contract emerged in which the state, donor agencies and development institutions pledged to ensure minimum socioeconomic security. Yet that contract is far less visible in Chilmari’s chars. Those facing the greatest risks remain largely outside this inclusion. For char dwellers, a “contract” is not simply a legal document or a state promise of social security. In the chars, it often means taking responsibility for one’s own fate.

The State’s Responsibility: This reality has recently led to a mass appeal in Kurigram for the rights of people affected by river erosion. The Char Development and Implementation Council has been submitting a memorandum to the Prime Minister through the Deputy Commissioner, demanding legislation for immediate compensation to affected families and the establishment of a separate ministry for char affairs. The demands raise a fundamental question: why should char dwellers alone bear the entire burden of river erosion? The state must establish an effective system to document river erosion, including where it has occurred, how many families have been affected, and how much land and property have been lost. A proper institutional framework should maintain these records and ensure prompt compensation and rehabilitation.

But compensation should not mean that the state determines people’s futures. Affected char dwellers should decide how to rebuild their lives, whether by making a new char agreement, buying land, settling near relatives or choosing another path. The strategies they have developed through generations of living with rivers could form the basis of state assistance. As climate change is expected to increase the scale and unpredictability of river erosion, pushing char dwellers into deeper uncertainty is no longer acceptable. The state must consider how it can stand beside them in this difficult reality. Char dwellers have already made their deal with the river. The question now is whether the state will merely stand as a witness to that deal or become a signatory to it.

Author: Lecturer, Department of Anthropology and Climate Change, School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS), University of London.