“We Are a Community,Not a Commodity”: The Politics of Representation in Tourism in CHT,Bangladesh

Abstract

In the neoliberal movement facilitated by the corporate mechanism of commodification, the culture and identity of indigenous communities are reconstructed, represented, and commodified as exchangeable objects within the growing tourism economy of the Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT), Bangladesh. This paper unearths how multiple narratives and voices from diverse actors involved in tourism collectively construct a “Bengali tourist gaze,” portraying indigenous “other” as a “touristic race,” and how indigenous people resist this hegemonic discourse through their self-representation. Through the lens of critical tourism theories, it problematizes how the politics of representation reshape Indigenous everyday life into spectacles of “otherness.” Based on nine months of ethnographic and netnographic research, the findings illustrate the representational politics at play, highlighting the binary tensions between empowerment and exploitation inherent in tourism practices. The paper challenges conventional views on tourism, incorporating Indigenous voices into planning and policy, aiming to advance a shared model for cultural justice.

Keywords

tourism representation commodification tourist gaze indigenous communities

Introduction

During a field visit to the Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT), I witnessed a moment that was both unsettling and telling, which crystallized the tensions at the heart of this study. While attending the “Chiyashod Poi,” an Indigenous cow-sacrificing festival of the Mru community, my research assistant and I observed a tourist couple photographing an elderly Indigenous woman smoking a “hookah” adorned with traditional jewelry in front of the village courtyard. The woman’s family protested: “We respect our elders and you should value our privacy; we are not a commodity, but a community.” However, the couple appears to be shocked yet unresponsive. In the same courtyard, another group gleefully took selfies with a priest, reducing him to a living relic of a “primitive” past. Later that evening, as we dined in a Mru household that doubled as a tourist homestay, my host shared a profound reflection:

Nowadays, it feels as though our cultural respect has eroded. Tourists wander freely into our yards, often stepping into our private spaces as if everything around them is an open invitation. It is a jarring reality that we’ve grown accustomed to, yet it stings deeply. Our cultural heritage, once vibrant and revered, now feels overshadowed by a relentless tide of visitors, leaving us longing for a return to a more balanced existence. Just a decade ago, we thrived in economic prosperity, surrounded by our ancestral forestlands, rich and lush, where we practiced jhum cultivation. These lands were not just fields to us but our heritage and livelihood. Now, however, the scene has shifted dramatically. The vibrant life of our fields has been eclipsed by the towering presence of tourism, dominated by both public and private leasing agencies that dictate the land’s purpose. While the tourist season brightens our world for a fleeting 3 to 4 months, it leaves us grappling with uncertainty during the remaining months of the year. The beauty of our land is overshadowed by the struggles we face, as we strive to reclaim what was once ours and navigate a future that feels increasingly precarious.

This ethnographic vignette encapsulates the paradoxes and contestations at the center of Indigenous-centered tourism in CHT: a site where identity becomes performance, culture becomes commodity, and visibility is often imposed rather than chosen. This incident is not an exceptional case for the CHT but rather emblematic of wider dynamics in tourism promotion within other Indigenous global contexts, where postcolonial mindsets, touristic gaze, and racial constructs are exploited in shaping images for the commodification of these specific groups. As Urry and Larsen (2011) and Salazar (2013) argue, tourism is not just leisure; it’s a movement across space and a cultural and political practice that mediates power relations and identity constructions often through a categorized “tourist gaze.” The picture in the CHT echoes these notions, unveiling how the principally Bengali tourists gaze at Indigenous lifestyles, frequently buttressing colonial imaginaries. In postcolonial contexts, such as Bangladesh, these dynamics are deeply entwined with histories of marginalization, militarization, and nation-building. The CHT, home to a mosaic of Indigenous groups collectively known as “Pahari” or “Jumma,” has long been subjected to state-led projects of integration, displacement, and surveillance. Tourism emerges here as a new frontier of control and visibility, sanitized of political histories yet steeped in colonial imaginations of the exotic and primitive. Drawing on postcolonial theories (Hall & Tucker, 2004; Said, 1978), critical tourism studies (Ateljevic et al., 2007), and the notion of “imagineering” (Hollinshead, 1999), this paper analyzes how the tourism discourses reconstitute Indigenous everyday life as spectacles of timeless “otherness.” The tourist gaze, as theorized by Urry and Larsen (2011), is never neutral; it is encoded with hierarchies of power and desires for difference. Tourists, particularly from dominant ethnic and class positions, view Indigenous people as embodiments of a romanticized past, rendering their daily struggles invisible while consuming their cultural expressions as entertainment. The literature on critical tourism studies (Ateljevic et al., 2007; Chhabra, 2009; Mkono, 2011) highlights the dual nature of commodification: while often exploitative, it can also serve as a strategic resource for marginalized groups to assert their agency and reclaim narratives. In CHT, this duality is palpable. On one hand, state and private tourism actors promote the region through curated imaginaries of “wild beauty” and “primitive hospitality,” often excluding Indigenous voices from planning and benefit-sharing. On the other hand, Indigenous communities have begun to reclaim tourism as a space of self-representation, establishing homestays, cultural performances, and restaurants that showcase ethnic cuisines and rituals. Though not free from contradictions, this practice of “self-commodification” is increasingly viewed as a means of cultural revival and economic resilience (Bunten, 2010; Wilson & Ypeij, 2012). This study also engages with racial formation theory (Omi & Winant, 1986/2014), particularly in how Bengali-majority tourists racialize Indigenous bodies as pre-modern, uncivilized, and yet alluring. Terms like “Ulongo jonglee” (bare barbarian) or “moigga” (feral, primitive) circulate in tourist discourses, reinforcing colonial binaries of civilization and savagery. In this gaze-oriented economy, Indigenous people are transformed into a “touristic race”—both celebrated for their difference and excluded from equal citizenship. In this context, tourism becomes a site of racial governance where identity is fixed, displayed, and commodified through state policies and market incentives.

This article examines how tourism practices negotiate the fine line between empowerment and exploitation, particularly for Indigenous communities in CHT. As tourism enters intimate spaces such as households, rituals, foods, and beliefs, it creates both opportunities for economic growth and risks of cultural loss. Within these tensions lies a critical question: how do Indigenous communities in CHT navigate and negotiate the commodification of their identities under the gaze of Bengali-majority tourists and state-backed tourism campaigns? To address this question, the article brings together empirical findings from ethnographic and netnographic research with theoretical frameworks drawn from postcolonial studies, critical tourism theory, and representational politics. The findings support and extend this body of literature by showing how the commodification of indigeneity in CHT is not simply imposed but also negotiated. Across five thematic domains—community vs commodity, the Bengali tourist gaze, culinary representations, Indigenous self-representation, and visual discourses of otherness—this study illustrates how Indigenous actors both resist and reproduce dominant representations. Ultimately, this article contributes to a growing body of scholarship that interrogates the micro-politics of tourism in postcolonial contexts. It challenges simplistic binaries of victimhood and empowerment by attending to the nuanced strategies through which Indigenous actors navigate their visibility under the tourist gaze. While recognizing the potential of Indigenous-centered tourism for cultural revitalization and economic opportunity, the study also warns against the dangers of uncritical romanticization. It urges a more reflexive engagement with tourism as a system of power that enables mobility and consumption and governs meaning, identity, and belonging. Tracing these tensions, this research underscores the importance of centering Indigenous voices in tourism scholarship and practice without becoming strangers to their own stories.

Literature Review: Tourism at the Nexus of Representation, Commodification, and Power

The literature reflects an evolving discourse on representation, authenticity, dominance, and the state’s role. Three main themes arise: the voice of Indigenous actors, the rise of Indigenous enterprises and their tensions, and the state’s influence on Indigenous-centered tourism. Tourism’s expansion into Indigenous territories often leads to two dynamics: commodifying Indigenous culture for tourists and Indigenous actors navigating representation. This review examines these dynamics through postcolonial theory, critical tourism studies, and representational politics, uncovering political, economic, and cultural complexities. It reveals Indigenous-centered tourism as both an opportunity and a point of contention, particularly highlighting the tension between agency and appropriation. Key themes from the CHT context, such as representation, tourist gaze, authenticity, commodification, and tourism’s link with postmodernity, remain underexplored.

Critical Tourism and the Double-Edged Sword of Commodification

Critical tourism studies (Ateljevic et al., 2007; Fennell, 2006) advocate for a rethinking of tourism through ethics, reflexivity, and justice, paralleling subaltern theory (Spivak, 1988), which emphasizes amplifying marginalized voices and the production of knowledge. These studies provide tools to uncover ideological structures behind tourism practices. Scholars (Whitford & Ruhanen, 2016) advocate for a “critical turn”—shifting the focus beyond economic metrics to questions of identity and power. This tourism often sidelines indigenous peoples in benefit structures, perpetuating marginalization. In the context of CHT, tourism must reflect a history of displacement and ethnic conflict (Mohsin, 1997; N. Uddin, 2010). The commodification of cultural identity can lead to “staged authenticity” (MacCannell, 1999), which is evident in how CHT markets indigenous festivals, clothing, and food. Tourism transcends mere economics; it intertwines with cultural and political practices involving representation, power, and identity (Urry & Larsen, 2011). Indigenous identities can be curated to meet tourist expectations, leading to both empowerment and exploitation (Xie, 2011). This paradox is evident in de la Maza’s (2016) ethnography of Mapuche tourism, which focuses on the state’s dual role in promoting cultural difference while regulating its expression. De la Maza employs constructivist ethnicity theories and Foucault’s (1975) concept of governmentality to demonstrate how institutional discourses shape the Mapuche identity. In CHT, state actors, while appearing to support cultural revitalization, often prioritize sanitized versions of indigeneity, such as the Boishaibi celebration, stripping cultural significance. Thus, Indigenous-focused tourism serves as both a mechanism for cultural resilience and a means of neoliberal governance.

Postcolonial Representations, Postmodern Turn, and the Tourist Gaze

Tourism in the Global South is reshaped by colonial and racial imaginaries (Hall & Tucker, 2004; Said, 1978). It selectively represents and reconfigures cultural practices for consumer appeal, often detaching them from their original meanings. This is pronounced in postcolonial contexts, where historical legacies of racialization and marginalization structure host-guest encounters (Hall & Tucker, 2004). Hollinshead (1998) and Comaroff and Comaroff (2009) argue that postcolonial tourism reproduces hegemonic narratives, depicting indigenous communities as “exotic others.” Scholars such as Said (1978) and Mbembe (2001) examine representation as a control mechanism, reinforcing the binaries of modern versus primitive and insider versus outsider. Mkono (2011) demonstrates how consuming “ethnic” food is perceived as an adventure, thereby reinforcing colonial distinctions. Representations often portray indigenous peoples in CHT as timeless and fundamentally different, creating a cultural spectacle that commodifies “otherness.” Hollinshead (1999) introduces “imagineering,” describing how tourism agencies construct narratives about people and places, shaping tourist expectations and reinforcing hegemonic views on race, culture, and modernity. This construction erases the socio-political realities of indigenous communities in CHT, including their struggles for land, autonomy, and recognition. The concept of post-coloniality facilitates an understanding of Bengali hegemony over the indigenous “others” as touristic performers, regarded as “entertainment machines” (Lloyd & Clark, 2001). Given the colonial history of CHT and its distressing connection with indigenous communities, this study deconstructs postcolonial discourses to reveal the state’s tourism politics and the tourist’s colonial mindset against the indigenous people of CHT. Considering the postcolonial binary of “we” versus “other” in tourism politics, “representations not just as a way of seeing but as also impacting on the way ‘we’ act on ‘them’” (Said, 1978, p. 199; cited in Chakma, 2016, p. 5).

The postmodern turn in tourism studies has led to a reevaluation of tourism practices as tied to cultural significance and performativity (Butler, 1990). This shift influences the “post-tourist” identity, where individuals recognize the artificial nature of tourism and navigate experiences with irony or indifference (Feifer, 1985). Hollinshead (1999, pp. 15–16) notes that dominant narratives about culture, history, and nature are often incorporated into tourism policies and practices. In this context, individuals internalize the “objectifying gaze of the tourist system” (Hollinshead, 1992, p. 43), making it difficult to escape its influence. MacCannell (1992, p. 1; cited in Burns, 2008, p. 64) posits that “tourism is not just a commercial activity; it also ideologically frames history, nature, and tradition, reshaping culture and nature to suit its needs.”

Urry and Larsen’s (2011) concept of the “tourist gaze” emphasizes how visual representations shape the perceived authenticity of destinations and their inhabitants. In the CHT, both state and private entities perpetuate colonial stereotypes in their tourism marketing. Urry describes tourism as a structured form of viewing where tourists, often from dominant ethnic or class backgrounds, impose meanings on local cultures. Butler’s (1990) notion of performativity suggests that identities are enacted in social contexts, particularly under the tourist gaze, which is often racialized and gendered (Ahmed, 2017a; Schendel, 2002). This literature explores the tourist gaze in various contexts, such as photographs taken by tourists in Bangladesh, which capture culturally distinct or exotic moments (Hasan, 2021; Imtiaz, 2022). The “media gaze” (Ahmed, 2017a) explains how platforms like Instagram and Facebook influence perceptions of the indigeneity of CHT. The “Bengali tourist gaze” reflects how ideas of “indigenousness” and “primitiveness” become romanticized through the representation of (social)media. Post-tourists craft dominant narratives on social media about their experiences, reinforcing the tourist gaze, while photography and videography (Pink, 2007) serve as tools for shaping perceptions of indigenous peoples and their environments.

Indigenousness, Resistance, and Self-Representation

Since Bangladesh’s independence in 1971, there has been a shift from biological notions of “race” to cultural understandings of “otherness,” often reflecting an image of indigenous communities living harmoniously with nature. The politics of adoption in the context of nation-building is reflected in the term “upajati,” which symbolizes the push for a homogenized Bengali identity (Mohsin, 1997; R. N. Uddin & Gerhaz, 2017). The Indigenous communities of CHT, known as Pahari, Jumma, and Adivasi, and referred to as “ethnic minorities” by the state, face identity challenges. While terms like “Jumma” and “Pahari” are embraced locally, outsiders often use derogatory labels such as “jonglee” and “moigga,” reinforcing colonial stereotypes of those communities. This dynamic reveals how Indigenous identity is commodified yet deemed a political threat. Categorizing Pahari people as “Indigenous” is contentious, complicated by state narratives that portray them as intruders, reflecting the Bengali majoritarian mindset (Mohsin, 1997). The imposition of Bengali nationalism has historically demeaned ethnic minorities, and various regimes have imposed terms like “hill people” and “tribal people,” which carry connotations of savagery and primitivism. In response to this marginalization, these communities have increasingly identified as Indigenous or Adivasi (Uddin, 2010). In the context of racial difference, Bengalis are viewed as “mainstream,” with any racial intermixture labeling individuals as “non-Bengali others.” Omi and Winant’s (1986/2014) concept of “racial formation” sheds light on the socio-political challenges faced by locals newly categorized as a “touristic race” by tourism actors. Stanley and Wight (2023) also argue that racialized “cultural authenticity” discourses shape corporate tourism interests, which have enduring impacts in CHT. Hooks (2014) argues that when race and ethnicity become commodified, they create spaces for dominant groups to assert power over disempowered, marginalized others.

This study also examines how indigenous actors in CHT navigate and challenge the dominant representations. While some scholars argue that self-representation as a form of resistance against homogenization through tourism can empower communities (Mkono, 2011; Wilson & Ypeij, 2012), this empowerment is frequently limited by political and economic structures that benefit state and corporate interests. Bunten (2010) introduces the concept of “Indigenous capitalism,” which describes how indigenous communities can engage with tourism markets to foster culturally relevant entrepreneurship. However, such engagements can lead to paradoxes, where cultural expressions become commodified, risking the reinforcement of stereotypes. Nonetheless, Indigenous-led tourism can also serve as a counter-narrative, enabling communities to reclaim their stories and resist marginalization.

Navigating the Tensions

Combining ethnographic and netnographic approaches, this study examines the politics of representation and resistance in tourism within the CHT. Understanding this duality requires moving beyond simplistic binaries of victimhood and agency, and embracing the complexities of cultural performance and identity politics. While there is a growing recognition of Indigenous agency in tourism, there is also caution against uncritical celebration. A notable tension exists between preserving cultural integrity and engaging in the tourism economy, intensified by the commodification of authenticity. The literature highlights the transformative potential of Indigenous-centered tourism while emphasizing the need to scrutinize who defines indigeneity, who benefits from its commodification, and how structural inequalities are navigated. Future research should delve into the micro-politics of power, voice, and representation in tourism practices and scholarship. These theoretical insights will guide the paper’s analysis.

Research Design

Tourism studies have undergone significant evolution, transitioning from descriptive approaches to a critical examination of tourism’s socio-political, cultural, and ethical aspects. This study reviews key contributions to the field, highlighting themes such as postmodernism, visual representation, indigeneity, political economy, and ethics in tourism research. Utilizing a multi-method qualitative approach, it combines ethnographic and netnographic techniques to investigate representation politics in CHT. This section details the rationale for these methods, sampling strategies, data collection, and the positionality and reflexivity, with fieldwork conducted over nine months across two phases in 2021 and 2022.

Justification for Methodological Approach

The methods were selected to capture both offline and online narratives related to the construction of indigeneity in the region. This methodological triangulation effectively illuminated the multilayered, situated experiences and discourses surrounding tourism in the Indigenous context of the CHT. Ethnography was employed for its effectiveness in capturing the nuanced, lived experiences and cultural dynamics of Indigenous communities in situ. Complementing this, netnography provided insights into digital discourses and representations on social media and travel blogs. Together, these approaches facilitated a comprehensive investigation of both the material and symbolic dimensions of tourism in the CHT.

Study Area

The research was carried out in three multi-sited indigenous settings in CHT: Ruilui Para (Sajek, Khagrachari), Munlai Para (Ruma), and Kapru Para (Lama, Bandarban). These sites were selected based on their popularity as tourist destinations and diverse ethnic compositions. The Chittagong Hill Tracts, home to 11 ethnic groups,¹ officially recognized as “ethnic minorities,” is marked by rich cultural diversity and socio-political tensions stemming from state-sponsored development and ethnic marginalization. It is located in a hilly natural scenic beauty, but a hazardous tourist track, infrastructurally underdeveloped, and an underprivileged touristic setup. The CHT is situated in the south-eastern part of Bangladesh, bordered by India and Myanmar to the south-east. It covers 13,274 km² and comprises the hill districts of Rangamati, Khagrachari, and Bandarban. According to the 2022 census, the 11 indigenous Paharis are 920,217 out of 1,842,815 in population, and the most considerable portion of the population is now the Bengali (Muslim and Hindu) community ( Bangladesh Bureau of Statistics, 2022).

Sampling and Participants

The data collection process is carefully coordinated with reading, coding, and analyzing preliminary data to determine appropriate recruitment of participants and subsequent data collection strategies. Informants were selected based on the principle of maximum variation to achieve information saturation (Sandelowski, 1995). Purposive sampling and snowball sampling techniques were employed to ensure diverse representation, targeting five distinct stakeholder groups. This approach aimed to encompass a diverse range of genders, ages, occupations, and cultural backgrounds, thereby enabling informants to provide comprehensive information necessary to address the research inquiries adequately.

The study involved a total of 160 participants:

76 Indigenous Pahari respondents

54 Bengali tourists

13 tour operators

3 tourist guides

14 public and private tourism officials

Four focus group discussions (FGDs), each comprising 8 to 10 participants, were conducted in each site. Interviews and FGDs explored themes of identity, tourism experiences, cultural commodification, and representation. Sampling continued until thematic saturation was achieved. In this study, the term “tourists” predominantly refers to Bengali residents who perceive themselves as ethnically superior, politically influential, culturally hegemonic, and economically affluent.

Data Collection Methods and Analysis

Data collection methods included:

In-depth interviews: Interviews were conducted with various stakeholder groups, including Indigenous participants who shared their experiences with tourism, as well as officials and tour operators who discussed strategies and policies. These interviews offered insights into the mindsets of various actors in the tourism sector and the everyday struggles faced by Indigenous peoples. After completion, the materials were coded and analyzed according to our research framework in the post-tourism context, highlighting the social interaction between the interviewer and interviewee.

Focus group discussions (FGDs): Three appointed research assistants (RAs) organized four FGDs of 8-10 participants each for each site. These sessions were facilitated with the help of trained research assistants (RAs), with the author serving as the moderator. Discussions provided insight into collective experiences and perceptions of tourism’s impacts.

Participant Observation: For participant observation, the researcher selected several “observational posts” (Tucker, 1999) at Adda,² cultural events, street shops, festivals, and communal gatherings, to observe tourists’ participation in cultural practices, behaviors, and interactions with indigenous folks. The researcher adopted a reflexive insider-outsider stance, observing tourist interactions, local responses, and everyday social life in marketplaces, festivals, and community settings.

Netnography: Drawing on Kozinets’ (2002) concept of “netnography,” digital data were collected from social media platforms such as Facebook and Instagram to assemble “tourists’ subjective travel experiences and post-visit narratives” (Mkono, 2011, pp. 253–270). A total of 57 travel blog posts and 13 tourism-related travel websites were analyzed through destination tagging (e.g., Sajek Valley, Ruilui Para, Munlai Para, Kewkradong, Nafa-khum, Thanchi-Remakri, and Alutila) to explore online narratives and the construction of the “Bengali tourist gaze.” Blogger demographics included urban, middle-class Bengali travelers. The selection criteria emphasized user-generated content that focused on cultural experiences. For example, indigenous cuisine’s marketing by local restaurants, tourist guides, or operators is popularized and justified as the “Pahari” brand with a corporate sense, not a cultural significance. This promotional issue is pertinent to me because it resolves a question on how the actors construct a “backwardness” as a politics of representation within a racially and culturally marginalized and politically controlled setting where indigenous people and their culture are exhibited.

Positionality and Reflexivity

This research is grounded in the epistemological importance of positionality and reflexivity, particularly within the CHT’s fraught landscape of tourism politics. As a Bengali researcher from a bordering district, my position placed me in a liminal space between insider and outsider—a fluid identity that evolved through self-reflexivity, ethical engagement, and relational practice. Historically, the relationship between Bengalis and Indigenous peoples has been shaped by deep-rooted conflicts over land, identity, political recognition, and self-autonomy. These tensions, predating even the British colonial regime, intensified post-independence through state-sponsored Bengali settlement programs, military occupation, and extractive development models, all of which marginalized Indigenous autonomy. Within this context, any Bengali researcher inevitably carries a historical and political burden into the field. Initially, my position was that of an outsider: a Bengali city-dweller whose identity was entangled in the hegemonic structures of Bengali nationalism. My interactions were shaped by the complexities of race, religion, class, and language, all contested categories in the CHT. I was viewed with suspicion by both state authorities, who cautioned me against portraying ethnic minorities as victims, and by Indigenous communities, who were wary of potential co-optation. However, through sustained engagement, active listening, cultural sensitivity, and linguistic adaptability (including the use of Chittagonian dialect as a bridging language, albeit with awareness of its hegemonic implications), I was gradually accepted by some as a “familiar outsider”—a Bengali who listened and shared space without claiming ownership. Nevertheless, I acknowledge the limits of my transformation. I do not claim to be an Indigenous insider. Instead, I embraced a position of reflexive partiality: aware of my privilege, my limitations, and the ongoing tensions between my identity and that of the communities I worked with. The adoption of the Chittagonian dialect—while useful for rapport-building—was not assumed to be culturally neutral; I remain critical of how its widespread use can reflect linguistic dominance and erase Indigenous languages, many of which face endangerment due to systemic marginalization. Crucially, this study treated informants as co-researchers, not merely as subjects. These individuals were collaborators in meaning-making, challenging my assumptions and enriching the narrative with their lived experiences. Their positionality—as Pahari activists, cultural practitioners, or everyday citizens—brought critical insights and ethical provocations into the research. While they are not listed as formal co-researchers (due to anonymity and consent limitations), their contributions fundamentally shaped the analysis. The co-researchers helped reframe tourism as an economic tool and a site of struggle, where land, culture, and visibility are contested. Ethically, the study adhered to informed consent protocols, maintained ongoing dialogue, and fostered mutual respect. Participants were allowed to review transcripts, clarify their interpretations, and withdraw contributions if desired. This process helped reduce the extractive tendencies often embedded in research involving marginalized communities. Ultimately, my role in the field was not that of a neutral observer but a politically aware participant seeking to uncover how tourism intersects with longer histories of dispossession and resistance in the CHT. This positionality is not fixed but continuously shaped by encounters, critiques, and reflections throughout the research journey.

Findings and Discussion

The findings from this study are structured around five core themes derived from the ethnographic and netnographic data: (1) Community and Commodity, (2) Construction of the Primitivism, (3) Culinary Representations of Indigenous Cuisines, (4) Indigenous Responses and Self-Representation, and (5) Visual Representations of “Otherness.” Each theme illustrates the interaction between tourism practices, representation, and indigenous responses, analyzed through postcolonial theory, critical tourism studies, performativity, and frameworks of racial formation. These themes highlight the process of commodification of indigenous life as it occurs through everyday encounters, digital narratives, and symbolic representations.

When Community Becomes Commodity

Tourism in CHT facilitates a shift from cultural authenticity to cultural spectacle, wherein indigenous communities are framed as consumable attractions. Local customs, sacred spaces, and traditional attire are often repackaged for tourist enjoyment. Tour operators and state agencies promote the region through curated images that emphasize ethnic “otherness” and picturesque primitivism. This results in the commodification of communal spaces, religious rituals, and everyday practices. The deliberately falsified and commodified image of the “exotic others” manufactured by the postcolonial state of Bangladesh and its actors contributes to constructing biased knowledge that shapes tourism policies and promotions in CHT. For instance, the National Tourism Policy-2010 (Ministry of Civil Aviation and Tourism [MoCAT], 2010) has not only marginalized indigenous voices in planning but also recast their cultural heritage as entertainment. The visual and spatial appropriation of indigenous life for leisure purposes exemplifies the shift from community to commodity. Promotional materials often brand the CHT as a land of primitive beauty, overlooking histories of displacement, poverty, and cultural resistance. Advertisements by travel agencies postulate a primal image of the indigenous folks through prepackaged racial categorization and false representation. This trend underscores a concerning shift toward the commodification of culture, evolving from a once-cherished “small ethnic minority” identity into a powerful “entertainment machine” (Lloyd & Clark, 2001). Nevertheless, while this transformation generates substantial tourism revenue, the indigenous communities are left with an inequitable share of these benefits. It is vital to acknowledge that local populations are not only preserved but also empowered to thrive within the very tourist landscape they contribute to.

The manufacture of community as a commodity is understood when hosts’ pain is rationalized and normalized for guests’ pleasure in the context of tourism promotion. For example, a beautiful natural pond called “Debota Pukur” is on the hilltop in Khagrachari. As attractive to tourists as it is to pilgrims, it is a holy place of the Tripura community. They believe that when someone goes there, his or her heart’s desire is fulfilled. According to the informants from local Tripura, the water in this hilltop pond never recedes and does not require purification. Hence, the local name Matai Pukur or Debota Pukur, meaning “divine pond,” is considered a blessing from God. There are also two big stones beside that pond. These stones are places of worship and are symbols of the God of Tripura. Tourists climb 1481 stairs to visit there, and photograph and make videos in various poses on these two stones while wearing shoes. One of the Tripura informants expressed sorrow that “it is certainly a disrespect to our place of faith and worship, which is never desirable.” Furthermore, he lamented that “the whole village is now like a zoo; what we are doing as natives, all the tourists are staring at us all the time. We are nothing but an exhibition object now.” This transformation aligns with Salazar’s (2013) notion of “touristic imaginaries,” which repackage lived culture for tourist consumption. Moreover, it was found that while walking around wearing tree leaves, a tourist took some funny pictures and posted them along with smiley emojis on social media with a caption “when I met them after visiting the fountain.” A native protested against this caption by writing a status on Facebook that

The way of life of the tribals of CHT has been presented in a distorted and contrived fashion, which is disrespectful to us. Most of the Bengalis in the city think that the indigenous folks of CHT mean “Ulongo jonglee” (bare barbaric). They come to the mountains to waste and leave with a dirty, and eventually post on Facebook with a deformed representation of the local people. The indigenous communities of CHT have no such traditional dress. No natives of the Chittagong Hill Tracts wear vines and leaves. Is it not the behavior of extremist Bengalis to insult the way of life of ethnic paharis? (Shanta, 2021)

It is clear from this statement that the main problem is observed in the case of tourists, especially Bengali tourists, who think that indigenous peoples in their own country are “outsiders,” relatively “primitive” and “backward” people. Tourists who denigrate indigenous “others” in the guise of laughter, fun, or jokes may not know or have never tried to know that the tourist destinations are built for their entertainment, from which the national economy is gradually boosted, and have a history of sacrifice, discrimination, and displacement of the indigenous locals.

“Pahari” as a “Touristic Race”: Construction of “Primitivism”

The representation of CHT’s “Pahari” peoples by Bengali tourists often aligns with colonial fantasies. Tourists often yearn for experiences that feel “primitive” and “untouched,” leading them to view indigenous cultures through a lens that exoticizes and racializes the bodies and lives of the people they encounter. This gaze transforms rich cultural identities into mere spectacles, stripping away their depth and complexity. Indigenous individuals, particularly women and children, are frequently asked to pose for photos, reenact traditions, or display artisanal crafts. Photographs of women in traditional clothing, often taken without consent, reinforce ideas of cultural difference and backwardness. In this gaze-oriented economy, the identity of Pahari communities is reconstituted as a form of ethnic branding. As one Mru informant lamented, “We are treated like living museum pieces.” This gaze was evident in social media posts and interviews. For instance, a tourist informant experienced a Chiyashod Poi (cow sacrificing) festival of the Mru community and uttered that

They are still far away from civilization, and their religious practice of “cow killing” is wild and savage, I mean, it is not justifiable, but it seems an authentic, exotic, and joyful celebration with “Ploong” music and dancing. They are still confined to the ancient ages of the human race.

Another source of discontent among the Pahari people in their everyday tourism experience is the “selfie mania” of tourists. Visitors intend to take selfies with the paharis regardless of their state of mind. On a high mountain road, a pahari woman naturally carries a child in her front lap and a heavy load on her back. When tourists see that, they become excited and pass the comments. Tourists are often amazed and consider it a humanly impossible task. They wish to take a selfie to create an instant memory, even though indigenous women often feel uncomfortable taking pictures as they are busy with their everyday work. Tourists are reluctant to seek permission during their visit to indigenous villages, as if everything is open to them. This creates a tension of privacy among the Paharis. In most cases, tourists request that ethnic women selling traditional, handwoven cloths at tourist spots wear their unique attire and pose for snapshots with them. Some indigenous vendors desire to be photographed while tourists buy clothing or souvenirs as tokens of remembrance. This romanticization obscures the lived realities and political struggles of indigenous people, reducing them to objects of curiosity and entertainment. Tourists’ fancy is to view them as “a lifeless object as if time has been frozen in the pre-modern era” (Coronado, 2014, pp. 11–28). It is often evident that “modern” urban tourists are fascinated by experiencing the lifestyle of indigenous people, observing how they live, work, and perform, as if tourists have immediately discovered “primitive” or “cave dwellers” and feel compelled to wander around the prehistoric landscape.

Branding as a “touristic race” by tourists’ manifestation crafts a “tourist trap” (Cohen, 1988) as the indigenous people, in most cases, behave according to the wishes of the tourists. To tourists, the delightful tradition of a Raz-Punnah (a tax-giving ceremony), clothed in colorful Thami (native dress) and decorated with indigenous traditional ornaments, tempts the romanticized representation of a postmodern “noble savage” (Ahmed, 2017a; Salazar, 2013). Although ironically, the state refuses to provide status to Pahari ethnic minorities as “indigenous” for their collective identity, their indigeneity is employed in tourism policy (MoCAT, 2010) to attract tourists to experience the cultural “exotism.” This produces a racialized “touristic ethnicity” (Wood, 1998) that is both dehumanized and romanticized, echoing colonial fantasies of primitivism.

From Disgusting to Desirable: Culinary Representations of “Pahari” Cuisines

Considering culinary representation of “pahari” ethnic foods, this section analyzes how “eating indigenousness” (Mkono, 2011; Yeh, 2007), as an “uncommon,” “authentic,” “natural,” and “exotic” cuisine, is appealed, practiced, guzzled, and gazed in the tourist experience in CHT. Restaurants in CHT, owned mainly by Bengali entrepreneurs, serve rebranded versions of traditional dishes, often marketed with exoticized names and décor meant to evoke a sense of wildness. Dishes like “bamboo chicken” or “frog-leg fry” are presented as “authentic” experiences and “primitive delicacies,” stripped of their cultural context, frequently renamed and stylized to appeal to urban tourists. Moreover, netnographic analysis of food blogs and Instagram posts revealed a pattern of “eating the other” (Hooks, 2014), where consuming Pahari food is framed as an adventurous and desirable experience. Indigenous cuisine is both commodified and transformed, often stripped of its cultural meaning and appropriated within a neoliberal foodscape. Besides, the naming of restaurants and resorts closely reflects the Pahari locals and nature, for instance, Wild Café, Bamboo Shoot Eco Food Court, Heritage Dine, Mu Hung Kha, and Marma Rikhyai Restaurant, which evoke the concepts of “primitivity” and “wilderness.” To encourage the consumption of “pahari” foods, restaurants in CHT are decorated with various types of bamboo to create a wider impression of the “wild” environment. At a Marma restaurant in Bandarban, an item of indigenous cuisine is added to the order so that the tourists can taste and learn about its authenticity. For example, at the Rikhyai restaurant, led by Bengalis, indigenous food items are featured as special dishes, and these items are listed first when presenting the food menu. Additionally, ethnic cuisine is often served and presented on banana leaves to attract tourists. Thus, it constructs a discourse on how indigenous “other” cuisines are constantly stigmatized as “primitive” set menus.

Tourist feedback, “from yucky! to yummy!” (Molz, 2007, pp. 77–93), represents a characteristic behavior in reviewing pahari foods from disgusting to desirable. Some posts, which initially expressed disgust, turn into fascination, revealing a neocolonial appetite for cultural difference. The reviews and social media posts reveal a dual reaction: some tourists express curiosity and enjoyment, while others react with disgust or moral judgment, especially regarding foods deemed taboo. These reactions reflect what Mkono (2011, pp. 253–270) refers to as the “neophiliac-neophobic dialectic,” and expose how food serves as a medium through which cultural boundaries are reinforced or crossed. Neophiliac tourists, who desire to experience everything as a unique, thrilling, and new experience, and persuade others to try new flavors, are always adventurous enough to try Pahari food with original taste. A group of tourist informants narrated that

We took the homestay services for 3 days in a Lushai family. We were welcomed with a garland. They served bamboo chicken, nappi, and pachporon, and at night, they offered cardamom liquor (Pahari wine). When a friend tasted local wine for the first time, the pungent smell made her feel like vomiting. He was not brave enough to take it. We cheered him, Come on, dear!, It’s a Pahari special. However, we enjoyed our stay with “exotic” cuisines.

Moreover, some reviews have mixed reactions due to the combination of Bengali and Pahari ingredients. For instance, a “foodie” tourist couple expressed their experience with a restaurant service in Khagrachari that

The restaurant offered a variety of unfamiliar and unusual dishes in its buffet system. They traditionally presented fish, duck, and chicken BBQ. The best dishes, such as “duck gorang,” “fish gorang,” “fish hebang,” “egg hebang,” and “chicken gorang,” with “rice gorang” were served on the banana leaves, though some of them are like Bengali dishes, just different in name and taste. Bada harang was terrific as a dessert. We experimented with most of them, except pig and frog fries, as we are Muslims. The bamboo chicken biriani was the best all the time. Ah! It was truly a yummy experience. We will take this opportunity when we visit again.

In general, the post-tourist sequence of events posted on Facebook or Instagram suggests a subjective view of the tourists’ food experiences. When tourists enjoy taking “exotic” cuisines at an indigenous restaurant, they go on Facebook Live to show the list of Pahari food they have ordered, show the interior decoration of the restaurant, upload pictures of recipes sitting in the restaurant, and upload pictures of the cooking process inside the restaurant. A post-tourist narrated in his Facebook post as feedback that

If you have a fantasy of having original primitive food, just visit CHT to experience it with a wild scenic view. If you are adventurous, then Munlai Para, Boga Lake, and Thanchi-Remakri are the best places to have a gastronomic and wild experience. We stuck into Moura, Fish kebang, godaiya fish, egg kebang, fish hebang, egg hebang, crab, nappi, frog leg fry, deer meat, bamboo chicken, bada harang, tulju (a kind of tobacco), bamboo cup tea, etc. Although not all of them are yummy, they seem to have an unfamiliar taste. However, if you are a thrill-seeking traveler, they are edible with fancy experiments. If you are an alcoholic, enjoy cardamom liquor, be careful, it is a high-content mal. In particular, it is a great journey with wild things!

However, in the case of religious prohibition, many “neophobic” tourists do not accept certain foods when they feel that the foods are not cooked properly, and sometimes they distinguish a few dishes, such as frog, pig, or rabbit, as religious taboo. For instance, Muslim tourists seek halal cuisines with halal ingredients in indigenous restaurants. Some tourists ask restaurant managers or waiters whether the chickens or beef used in the food were slaughtered by Muslims or non-Muslims. Many people feel hesitant or embarrassed when eating meat slaughtered by non-Muslims. Due to religious sentiments, many travel bloggers also do not write on social media about their reactions to tasting “tabooed food” made from pigs, frogs, or snails, as well as “pahari” alcohol, but they experience it. However, a modification occurs in the flavor of indigenous culinary items when prepared for commercial purposes. Indigenous food terminology is constantly evolving and is often forced to adapt to the hegemonic influence of the Bengali language and culture in gastronomic representations. For example, the mouth-watering recipe “Bamboo chicken” is a famous and familiar dish among tourists as an ethnic, exotic cuisine. However, it has an indigenous name, “Huro Chumo” (in the Chakma language).

Indigenous Responses and Self-Representation

This section illustrates the indigenous mechanisms of “self-commodification” in developing alternative subsistence means, as well as resistance to the homogenization and monopolistic intervention of public and private actors. Many have adopted strategies of self-representation to reclaim agency and articulate their identity on their own terms, leveraging their culture as a form of economic agency. For example, indigenous cuisines have become an influential ethnic marker of the uniqueness of indigenous identity. Promoting local cuisines is a symbol of “local defense” against homogenization, showcasing local standards for authenticity (Winter, 2003, pp. 23–32). Indigenous-run homestay programs, ethnic food ventures, cultural events, and artisanal markets are utilized to promote cultural pride while fostering economic sustainability. For example, a restaurant in Bandarban displayed a sign reading, “Our food is our identity; it’s our brand.” Such efforts represent a form of cultural entrepreneurship that resists homogenizing pressures and reclaims the narrative of who indigenous people are and what their culture signifies. This echoes Wilson and Ypeij’s (2012) view that commodification can lead to cultural revival when driven by indigenous agency. However, this strategic self-exoticization is fraught with contradictions. It reflects both a resistance to exclusion and a pragmatic adaptation to economic marginality. It also reveals an ongoing struggle to reclaim control over how indigeneity is redefined, displayed, and distributed. Some participants noted a tension between economic necessity and cultural dilution. As one informant put it: “We perform our traditions for tourists. Nevertheless, sometimes, I wonder if we are losing the meaning of those traditions.” It is difficult to avoid being involved in tourism activities, as jhum farming nowadays provides less support for their subsistence.

Moreover, the indigenous hawkers in tourist spots sell unique, indigenously produced clothes and antiques, which convey their ethnic culture and identity, representing a form of “self-exoticization” that facilitates economic success. Many tourist informants believe that the quality of indigenous products is the best due to their authentic and aesthetically pleasing composition in antiques, clothing, ornaments, and other showpieces. Secondly, Indigenous restaurants serving “Pahari” cuisine serve unfamiliar food to tourists as authentic. This ethnic hospitality is viewed positively to accentuate cultural “uniqueness.” Thirdly, homestay hospitality is a unique and authentic service in the indigenous communities. In Sajek and Remakri, tourists grab the opportunity to stay overnight and savor indigenous foods and folk music. Lastly, paid cultural performers organize events for the enjoyment of tourists, either individually or during overnight stays at festivals. For example, tourists intend to experience flying fanush during the Probarona Purnima festival. Moreover, alongside the indigenous hospitality, indigenous entrepreneurs have taken initiatives to facilitate swimming, trekking, kayaking, meditation, yoga, and other exercise programs for tourists drawn to the natural diversity in Munlai Para, supported by the Bandarban Hill District Council and designed by BASECAMP Ltd. They also assist adventurous tourists in making campfires out at night. The indigenous paharis view tourism as a prospective channel to rejuvenate their distinctive culture and reintroduce their ethnic identity, developing a language of resistance to Bengali homogenization but favoring a transcultural dialogue.

Visual Representation of “Otherness”

It is always projected a colonial mentality by the tourists, travel agencies, and private actors in (social) media that the Pahari communities are very naive, welcoming, and attached to nature. The queen of cloud- Sajek Valley, Mountaineering on the hilltop- Chimbok and Tajingdong, Golden Buddhist Temple, Hanging Bridge, and the thrilling journey by Chander Gari (open-rooftop jeep) through the hill forest in CHT are lavishly exemplified by written narratives in the tour webpages, tourist magazines, documentaries, and social media. Moreover, Ahmed (2017b) portrayed a “media gaze” about Parbatyo Lokoj Mela (Folk Fair of Hills) advertisement of Channel-I, a private TV channel of Bangladesh, which markets tourism with an indigenous girl and the mountainous beauty of the CHT, where both are portrayed as “exoticness” for tourist fascinations. This representation of the “wilderness” is categorically linked to unequal power relations between the gazer and the gazed. An indigenous activist (Marma, 2013) posted a blog with a critical reflection on media representation that

Channel-I organizes a grand event with thousands of mountain artists to promote tourism and the mountain region to the outside world. But why? So, why are some people so enthusiastic about developing the tourism industry in our mountains? Who are they? What made them responsible for improving our culture? There is nothing but making millions of taka by creating programs. In the name of showing our culture, they create each event. They promote a part of our culture, including Marma Sangrai, the water festival, and related events. That is, they highlight the external parts of the festival, such as dance with hand-fan, pitcher dances, water games, etc., which are shown.

Portraying Sajek as the “Daughter of the Hills,” “Cloud Girl,” and “Queen of Hill” in a famous TV program, “Ityadi,” the anchor pointed out a 70 km scenic road that was built in Sajek under the tireless efforts and supervision of the Bangladesh Army to promote tourism. He then touted “Sajek Resort” and “Runmoy Resort,” run by the army, for providing excellent accommodation and food for the tourists visiting Sajek. It was also branded that travelers can stay in local ethnic houses on a low budget. Due to the construction of this beautiful road, what was missing in this representation was the history of the eviction of the lands of the Lushai, Pankhua, and Tripura communities.

Wearing indigenous costumes is an additional enthrallment to tourists, but photographs and postings on Facebook often mock it. For example, a tourist, along with his wife and friends, captioned a photo on his Facebook page with humiliating words like, “It was said it was a king’s costume. We wore it all. After taking pictures, we saw that everyone looked like a thief.” However, Young tourists are primarily fascinated by the pahari girls’ dance during celebrations like “Boishabi” (New Year). Tourism brochures symptomatically cover the pictures of pahari girls under the title “pahari dance of Marma girls in Sangrai festival,” or “water-throwing ceremony of Pahari damsel.” Therefore, the way the Bengali-made term “kichuri” (distorted) of “Boishabi” (Uddin, 2013) is promoted in the country’s newspapers and social media is quite titillating and overwhelming. The culture of the indigenous Paharis is represented, fragmented, and distorted, on the one hand, through the news media’s coverage of their festivals; on the other hand, the invisible politics of “exclusion” and “inclusion” among indigenous communities are encouraged through this representation. There is more show-off and lavishness than cultural and religious significance in festivals. As a result of the reckless promotion by the media and urban-centric corporate culture, the Pahari people’s New Year festival is no longer just a seasonal cultural celebration observed in its pure cultural form. Apart from the fragmented view of Bengali nationalism, Bengali tourist gaze, and media’s romanticized representation, the Pahari’s pageantry also loses its originality due to corporate interventions.

The following section draws on these findings to reflect on broader theoretical implications, synthesizing how the commodification of indigenousness in CHT contributes to contemporary debates in critical tourism studies.

Conclusion

This paper critically explores the connection between representation, commodification, and agency within the CHT tourism dynamics, providing insights into the postcolonial and racialized dimensions of tourism in South Asia. Tourism in the CHT is not a neutral or apolitical space; rather, it is shaped by the legacy of colonialism, the asymmetries of race and class, and the logics of neoliberal capitalism. Representation in this context emerges as a political act, deeply embedded in discourses of power, resistance, and identity (Omi & Winant, 1986/2014; Said, 1978).

One of the central findings is the dual nature of commodification. On one side, tourism presents economic opportunities for indigenous communities. On the other hand, it entrenches systems of symbolic violence and racialized consumption. Indigenous people are often reduced to spectacles for Bengali tourists, subjects of the “touristic gaze” that reifies alterity while masking deep-seated structural inequalities (Urry & Larsen, 2011). This gaze is racialized and gendered, reflecting persistent colonial hierarchies that position the indigenous as primitive, exotic, or backward. However, the study also foregrounds the agency of indigenous actors who tactically navigate the tourism economy through practices of strategic self-commodification. Indigenous-led initiatives, such as homestays, local restaurants, and cultural festivals, demonstrate how indigenous individuals and communities are not passive victims but active agents (Beecham, 2009), reshaping their image and reclaiming control over representation. Such practices align with the concept of “indigenous capitalism” (Bunten, 2010), where economic participation becomes a mode of cultural resilience and resistance.

Crucially, the findings complicate the binary between victimhood and agency. Self-representation, while empowering, occurs within constrained structural conditions. Bengali entrepreneurs still dominate the tourism industry, and the state continues to promote indigenous culture as a commodified asset, often sidelining indigenous voices in policymaking. This aligns with critiques of the neoliberal tourism economy, where superficial celebration of diversity masks deeper forms of dispossession and inequality (de la Maza, 2016; Salazar, 2013). Food culture emerges as another critical site of contestation. Community members involved in food tourism actively curate and market their culinary heritage, asserting ownership over cultural narratives. Practices of culinary tourism, or what Mkono (2011) refers to as “eatertainment,” illustrate how indigenous cuisine is appropriated, renamed, and sanitized to fit mainstream Bengali tastes. The transformation of traditional dishes, such as “Huro Chumo” rebranded as “Bamboo Chicken,” reveals the politics of language, naming, and authenticity in tourism. Such culinary adaptations underscore how tourism imposes dominant cultural frames, often eroding indigenous knowledge and practices. Despite these challenges, the study documents an emerging discourse of resistance among indigenous actors.

Ethnographic and netnographic methods further reveal how tourism functions as both an economic engine and a cultural battleground. Indigenous festivals such as Boishabi provide a counter-space for the revitalization of community identity and belonging. Likewise, digital platforms offer indigenous youth new avenues for asserting agency, shaping narratives, and resisting imposed representations. These findings highlight the role of visuality and performativity in tourism, echoing Butler’s (1990) theory of performativity, which posits that identity is not static but rather enacted and negotiated through interaction. The dominance of non-native tour operators, the militarization of tourism spaces, and the displacement of locals from scenic areas reveal the layered nature of exclusion. Indigenous people often become strangers in their own land as tourism infrastructures are developed without their consent or involvement.

The notion of “touristic race” is particularly salient. It describes the racialized structures and expectations that define how indigeneity is consumed and performed. Informants in the study note that their participation in tourism is not solely about income but about maintaining control over how their culture is represented. In this sense, commodification becomes a strategic means of cultural preservation, though always under the threat of co-optation and misrepresentation. State policies that claim to empower indigenous communities often reproduce hierarchies under the guise of inclusion. The rhetoric of sustainability is deployed to justify interventions that benefit corporate actors and reinforce state control. The state’s dual role, as both a promoter of indigenous culture and a suppressor of indigenous political autonomy, highlights the contradictions of cultural governance (Hollinshead, 1999). Nevertheless, the study finds that indigenous people are actively reshaping these dynamics. By reclaiming cultural spaces, engaging in entrepreneurial activities, and participating in tourism governance, they challenge dominant narratives and assert their rights to self-representation. This research thus contributes to three key theoretical domains:

Reconceptualizing Commodification

The study challenges simplistic notions of commodification as exploitative or empowering. It emphasizes a dialectical understanding in which Indigenous actors strategically engage with tourism to assert identity, resist marginalization, and generate income, complicating the victim/agent binary (Bunten, 2010; Wilson & Ypeij, 2012).

Expanding the Tourist Gaze

Building on Urry and Larsen’s (2011) concept of the tourist gaze, the research introduces the idea of the “Bengali tourist gaze,” a gaze rooted in internal colonialism and domestic racial hierarchies. This gaze not only consumes the indigenous “Other” but actively constructs them as consumable objects for leisure and storytelling.

Toward a Politics of Self-Representation

The findings underscore the significance of indigenous-led cultural performances, culinary practices, and digital storytelling as tools of resistance. These practices challenge imposed representations and offer alternative narratives that center indigenous epistemologies and identities.

Prospects for Further Research

Practically, the study calls for a decolonial rethinking of tourism that goes beyond tokenistic inclusion. Policy frameworks must prioritize the voices of indigenous peoples, ensure equitable benefit-sharing, and recognize their cultural autonomy. Comparative studies across South Asia could also provide valuable insights into how indigenous groups navigate the promises and pitfalls of tourism. Moreover, digital ethnography could further illuminate how online platforms mediate representation and resistance.

In conclusion, tourism in the CHT operates not merely as a development initiative but as a cultural and political battleground. It reflects broader struggles over land, identity, and sovereignty. Indigenous communities are neither wholly subsumed nor entirely autonomous; they engage tourism strategically, asserting their agency while confronting persistent inequalities. As such, the question is not whether tourism should exist, but how it can be transformed into a vehicle for cultural revitalization, justice, and self-determination.

Supplemental Material

sj-docx-1-jtr-10.1177_00472875251411978 – Supplemental material for “We Are a Community, Not a Commodity”: The Politics of Representation in Tourism in CHT, Bangladesh

Supplemental material, sj-docx-1-jtr-10.1177_00472875251411978 for “We Are a Community, Not a Commodity”: The Politics of Representation in Tourism in CHT, Bangladesh by S M Sadat al Sajib in Journal of Travel Research

Footnotes

ORCID iD

S M Sadat al Sajib

Author Contributions

S M Sadat al Sajib: Conceptualization; Data curation; Formal analysis; Investigation; Methodology; Resources; Supervision; Writing—original draft; Writing—review & editing.

Funding

The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Declaration of Conflicting Interests

The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Supplemental Material

Supplemental material for this article is available online.

Notes

Author Biography

Dr. S M Sadat al Sajib is an anthropologist and faculty member at the University of Chittagong with a Ph.D. in Environmental Sustainability and Well-being from the University of Ferrara, Italy. His research focuses on cultural heritage, tourism, development, sustainability, minority and refugee issues since the very beginning of his professional career as a faculty member in Anthropology. He has published widely in peer-reviewed journals and contributed to international research collaborations with institutions such as SOAS, LSE, and the British Academy. Dr. Sajib has presented his work at major conferences across Asia and Europe and serves as a reviewer for prominent academic journals. His scholarly interests also include climate change, eco governmentality, and socio-environmental justice.

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