The state of Uttarakhand was established on November 9, 2000. Shortly afterwards, I was asked to give a talk in Mussoorie, the hill station in the west of the state. I accepted, largely because I had been born and raised on the outskirts of Dehradun, the town that lay in the valley below. On reaching Mussoorie, I went to the nearest public call booth (there were no cell phones then) and rang the historian, Shekhar Pathak, who lived in Nainital, at the other end of the newly-formed state. When he picked up the phone, I proudly announced: “Main apne pradesh sé bol raha hoon” (I am speaking to you from our state).
Though I was now based in Bangalore, I retained close touch with the region where I had come of age and done my first research. I had keenly followed the popular movement for the creation of a state from the hill districts of Uttar Pradesh, and celebrated in its eventual success. Just as its formation as a full-fledged state in 1971 had led to impressive social and economic progress for the people of Himachal Pradesh, it was hoped that the people of Uttarakhand would likewise benefit from having a state of their own, run by politicians who shared their cultural background, as well as their hopes and aspirations (which the politicians of Uttar Pradesh rarely did).
In a few weeks, Uttarakhand will celebrate the twenty-fifth anniversary of its founding. In this time, the Congress has been in power for ten years, the Bharatiya Janata Party for fifteen. No doubt the chief minister and his government will put on a great tamasha, whereas in truth there will be little to celebrate. Both Congress and BJP regimes have done little to enhance the quality of life of their electors, likewise neglecting such vitally important sectors as education, health, women’s safety and livelihood security. The BJP, in power since 2017, has aggressively promoted Hindu majoritarianism, harassing minorities and creating an atmosphere of fear and intimidation in a region which previously knew little inter-religious conflict. As in some other states of the Republic, Hindutva is the opium fed to the people by politicians who are unable or unwilling to provide their electors a dignified and secure life for this and future generations.
Meanwhile, successive state governments in Uttarakhand, aided by the Centre, have mounted a savage assault on the hills by constructing poorly-designed roads, ill-conceived dams, and other large projects that claim to promote ‘development’ but in fact bring devastation in their wake. The Char Dham highway is the most dangerous of these projects, and it remains a tragedy that the Supreme Court, even after being presented with irrefutable scientific evidence of the damage it was causing, allowed it to proceed on its destructive path.
According to one estimate, since its inception in the year 2000, Uttarakhand has lost almost 50,000 hectares of rich natural forest to so-called ‘development projects’; highways, dams, mines, government townships, from which local people hardly benefit. If one conservatively estimates that a hectare of natural forests contains 3,000 trees, then roughly 150 million trees may have been destroyed by the government of Uttarakhand since the state was established. The economic and environmental costs of this destruction are incalculable.
The Himalaya are a beautiful yet fragile ecosystem, which lies in a seismic zone, and where a rich forest cover is necessary not only to sustain the local village economy but to protect against soil erosion and floods. By seeking to tame the mountains of Uttarakhand by concretising them, the state and Central governments have catalysed a series of tragic accidents, of which the incident at Dharali is only the most recent. The deaths and economic damage caused by landslides, floods and the like have increased dramatically in recent years, leading to an enormous loss of life and of livelihood. These calamities are cunningly referred to by ruling politicians (and their toadies in the media) as ‘natural disasters’, whereas in fact they are largely human-made, enabled by the nexus of politicians-contractors-bureaucrats who have sanctioned (possibly for a consideration) this reckless extension of roads, dams, resorts, and so on. An already vulnerable environment is made even more vulnerable due to unseasonal and excessive rainfall, intensifying the damage to human life and livelihood.
Even as these disasters become more frequent, those who rule Uttarakhand continue to profit from projects that poorly serve both nature and society. Consider the plan to build two elevated highways, each running for more than 10 kilometres, on top of the beds of the Bindal and the Rispana rivers in Dehradun. The main purpose, though unstated, is to carry tourists more quickly to Mussoorie once their cars enter Dehradun from the plains. Currently estimated to cost about Rs 6,000 crore — a figure which shall surely rise — this project carries a whole host of negative features. It will lead to the demolishing of thousands of legally constructed houses and the collapse of other structures through heavy drilling. It will cause massive soil erosion and an increase in the threat of flash floods as the natural water channels are obstructed by the large pillars built to support these altogether unnecessary highways. As a statement by a citizens’ group points out, the people of Dehradun “strongly feel that this mega project, with huge expenditure of several thousands of crores and the disruption of public life, will directly benefit those who always profit from government contracts and indirectly benefit the manufacturers and dealers of cars.” They further add: “The entire project plan is still wrapped in secrecy although the identification of the houses to be demolished for this project has already begun.”
The architect, Bharti Jain, herself a resident of Dehradun, warns that millions of cubic metres of soil will be excavated from the Bindal and Rispana rivers to build these elevated highways, but with no safe way to dispose of this. If the excavated material is “dumped along rivers,” she writes, “beds will rise, increasing flood risk. If concreted, seepage into aquifers will be blocked. These rivers are not just seasonal drains; they are the veins that recharge our groundwater. By obstructing them, we risk floods in the monsoon and droughts in the summer.” As she remarks: “Dehradun already faces falling groundwater levels. RBEC [Rispana Bindal Elevated Corridor] may give us a temporary traffic bypass, but it will take away something far more precious — our water security and ecological balance. We, the residents of this valley, must decide: do we want short-term relief at the cost of long-term survival?”
A recent public survey in Dehradun pointed to a deep and growing discontent among citizens about the damaging consequences of this project. Like the Delhi-Dehradun expressway being planned concurrently, these highways atop the valley’s threatened rivers aim not to help residents but tourists seeking to get to the hill station of Mussoorie. The short-term social benefits to the citizens of Dehradun will be negligible, whereas the long-term ecological and social costs are likely to be very large. It is not even clear how they will benefit tourists. If this scheme is put into place, thousands of extra cars and buses will enter Mussoorie every day. How will this influx be handled? Which sorts of traffic jams will this create? Does the government of Uttarakhand plan to build a series of ten-storey parking lots on the mountainside to temporarily house these vehicles?
As this column goes to press, news comes in of heavy rainfall in Dehradun, leading to roads, bridges, shops and homes being washed away. Many residents of the valley have lost their lives. The Rispana and the Bindal, the two rivers on whom the elevated corridors are to be built, were flowing at above danger levels. Surely now at least the authorities will reconsider these grossly ill-conceived projects?
Shekhar Pathak, who knows Uttarakhand better than anyone else alive, has sagely remarked that while we should aim to make tourism more like pilgrimage — gentler, slower, more respectful of nature and of human community — the governments of today instead want to make pilgrimage like tourism — louder, more aggressive, more destructive of nature and human community. Surely, the redesign of tourism to make it more like pilgrimage should be one core priority of the politicians and bureaucrats who currently rule Uttarakhand. A second, and possibly even more important, priority is to run better, safer, and more affordable schools and hospitals, and to facilitate a sustainable economic future for the residents of Uttarakhand. That is the least they owe the citizens of a state that was created with a set of noble aspirations that are yet to be even remotely fulfilled.
ramachandraguha@yahoo.in
