Protests are intensifying across western Rajasthan against large-scale solar companies accused of felling the state tree, khejri, and encroaching on traditional village grazing commons or orans. Local communities are demanding strict protection for these trees and the safeguarding of customary pastoral lands from industrial-scale solar projects. This resistance has brought a larger and more unsettling question into focus: is the current model of solar energy expansion truly an environmentally sustainable form of
development?
India’s rapid shift towards solar energy over the past decade represents both technological advancement and a strategic response to the global climate crisis. From an installed solar capacity of barely three gigawatts in 2014, India has crossed the 135-gigawatt mark today. This growth is not just numerical, it reflects political resolve, policy backing, and sustained capital investment that have placed solar energy at the heart of India’s energy transition. Reducing dependence on fossil fuels, cutting carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gas emissions, and strengthening energy security are all goals closely tied to the expansion of solar power. At its core, solar energy is conceptually simple and morally appealing. Energy drawn from the Sun neither pollutes the environment nor depletes finite resources. Unlike coal, oil, or gas-based power generation, solar energy produces no smoke, no ash, and releases none of the lethal gases — carbon dioxide, sulphur dioxide, or nitrogen oxides — that poison the atmosphere. For this reason, solar power has been celebrated as clean, green, and renewable, and has been positioned as a cornerstone of global climate solutions.
Yet in the realm of policymaking, no solution is complete unless its direct and indirect consequences are examined in full. As solar capacity expands at breakneck speed in India, a troubling question has begun to surface: is the prevailing model of solar development as environmentally benign as it is assumed to be? This question becomes particularly urgent when large-scale land acquisition and extensive tree felling accompany solar projects. Rajasthan offers the clearest illustration of this dilemma. With over 300 sunny days a year, vast tracts of land, and relatively low population density, the state holds immense solar potential and has emerged as one of India’s leading solar power producers. At the same time, it has become a flashpoint for social and environmental unrest due to the cutting of ecologically invaluable trees such as the khejri. The lands selected for solar installations are not empty wastelands; they are living ecosystems where trees, soil, moisture, wildlife, and local livelihoods are intricately interwoven.
At the policy level, it is often argued that solar plants are being built on ‘barren’ land. Environmental science, however, challenges this notion. Land that appears barren is rarely ecologically inert — especially in arid and semi-arid regions like Rajasthan. Trees such as the khejri play a vital ecological role: they absorb carbon dioxide, stabilise soil, aid water conservation, and regulate the local microclimate. Over its lifetime, a mature tree sequesters a quantity of carbon that is by no means insignificant when compared with technological interventions. Here lies the crux of the problem. A typical ground-mounted solar plant requires approximately four to five acres of land per megawatt. If this land contains dozens or even hundreds of trees, the destruction of that carbon sink cannot be instantly offset by the clean electricity generated by solar panels. In other words, a portion of the carbon emissions saved by solar energy is simultaneously lost through deforestation. Moreover, in the coming decades, the large-scale disposal of ageing solar panels will generate significant electronic waste, introducing a new set of environmental risks. When these factors are considered together, it becomes evident that the prevailing assessment of solar energy is incomplete, focused on costs and capacity addition, while neglecting the calculation of net environmental benefit. On paper, the gains appear substantial; in reality, the balance is far less clear.
What is urgently needed is a life-cycle environmental assessment of each solar project — one that accounts for environmental costs arising from land-use change, tree felling, construction, operation, and eventual disposal of panels, and weighs them against the actual ecological benefits delivered. Until such a balance is transparently established, the claim of ‘clean energy’ will remain only partially fulfilled. In the current rush to fast-track solar projects, environmental assessment processes have often been reduced to mere formalities. While compensatory afforestation is routinely mandated, there is little monitoring of whether saplings survive or whether they are planted within the same ecological zone where damage has occurred. Policy frameworks rarely acknowledge the profound ecological difference between a mature tree and a newly planted sapling. Is the current trajectory of solar expansion then genuinely helping the fight against climate change, or is it inadvertently creating a new environmental crisis? If, in the pursuit of lower emissions, we destroy natural carbon sinks themselves, the result is a policy paradox. Clean energy is not merely about eliminating smoke from chimneys; it is equally about strengthening the planet’s natural systems of balance.
The solution does not lie in halting solar energy, but in redefining the manner of its expansion. Policymakers must recognise that renewable energy and environmental conservation are not opposing goals. Rooftop solar, canal-top installations, abandoned industrial land, railway and highway corridors, and other innovative siting options can significantly reduce pressure on land and trees. Agrivoltaic systems, which allow agriculture and solar generation to coexist, offer promising pathways for dual land use. India’s solar policy must now enter a new phase — one where the objective is not merely to add gigawatts but to secure genuine environmental gains. Solar energy can be truly renewable only when its growth proceeds in harmony with trees, land, and local ecosystems.
The ongoing Khejri Bachao movement in Rajasthan is a continuation of a deep cultural and historical tradition in which protecting trees has been regarded as a matter of survival. Rajasthan’s social consciousness has long upheld struggle, sacrifice, and nonviolent resistance in defence of nature. This movement is not opposed to solar energy per se; it challenges a policy myopia that legitimises the destruction of natural carbon sinks in the name of clean power. Its legitimacy is therefore not only environmental, but also historical and moral. Questioning a development path that undermines ecology, local communities, and natural balance is not anti-development — it is a call for responsible governance. The voice rising from Rajasthan is not just a regional grievance; it is a national appeal to make India’s energy policy more sensitive, scientific, and holistic. Standing with it is, in essence, standing with the promise of a more just and resilient future.
Atul Agrawal works at the Indian Institute of Management, Sirmaur