Opinion Avalanches are no longer seasonal inconveniences. They demand urgent attention

In October 2023, a lesser-known but no less alarming incident took place in Sikkim. The South Lhonak Lake burst its banks, triggering a cascade that breached a dam and swept away significant amounts of Indian Army ammunition and stores. Though the loss of human life was lower than in past events, the implications were severe for national security infrastructure.

Then there is the Chamoli disaster of February 7, 2021 — a textbook case of how cascading events in the mountains can wreak havoc downstream. An icefall, most likely caused by a detaching glacier chunk, surged into the Rishiganga river, leading to a catastrophic flood. It obliterated a hydropower project and took over 200 lives.

An incident that haunts military minds was at Gayari. In April 2012, 129 Pakistani soldiers were entombed under 60 feet of snow after a one-kilometre long swathe of snow struck their position in the Siachen sector. It was nature at its most merciless. In the Gurez sector of Kashmir just a month earlier, 18 Indian soldiers lost their lives when a massive avalanche hit their winter shelters on February 24, 2012.

As someone who has commanded troops across multiple mountain sectors, including the Line of Control (LoC) in Kashmir, these are not distant tragedies to me. They are memories, responsibilities, and in one case — deep personal loss.

In January 2008, while commanding a division headquartered in Baramulla, I faced an excruciating decision. Meteorological inputs forecasted a severe snowstorm across higher reaches of the LoC. I had nearly a dozen soldiers deployed at 14,000 feet, in a crucial post responsible for preventing terrorist infiltration. The approach route to that post was notoriously avalanche-prone.

I assessed that leaving the soldiers there would be tantamount to risking their lives. I requested permission to pre-emptively evacuate them. That request was denied. The rationale? We could not afford a gap in our counter-infiltration posture.

In high-altitude command, decisions must be made swiftly; moments of hesitation often make the difference between success and tragedy. My fears were realised. Once we finally initiated the evacuation — ironically, using brave civilian high-altitude porters — an avalanche struck the moving column. We recovered who and what we could. But the moment remains etched in my mind forever: The terrible clarity of knowing that this had been avoidable. This is why avalanches must not be treated merely as natural phenomena. They are increasingly conflict multipliers, logistical disruptors, and silent killers in zones of both peacetime deployment and active conflict. What climate change is now doing is making their frequency and unpredictability worse.

Over the past decade, accelerated glacial melt, warmer winters, and erratic snowfall patterns have created instability across the Himalayas and Karakoram ranges. The line between snow and slush is thinner than ever. Despite this, avalanche preparedness in our region remains a challenge. The Defence Geoinformatics Research Establishment (DGRE) — earlier known as SASE — has made significant strides in avalanche forecasting, terrain analysis, and hazard zonation. Its modelling of snow accumulation patterns and vulnerability mapping has greatly helped the armed forces, especially in places like Siachen and Kargil. However, wider dissemination of this critical data and its timely integration into command-level planning still needs streamlining because it’s an area relatively less understood. The challenge often remains not just scientific, but institutional — ensuring that precautionary measures are not overridden by operational compulsions.

On the disaster management front, there is now some welcome movement. The Central Government has approved the National Glacial Lake Outburst Flood Risk Mitigation Project (NGRMP) with a total outlay of Rs 150 crore. Four Himalayan states — Arunachal Pradesh, Himachal Pradesh, Sikkim, and Uttarakhand — are part of this vital effort. Of the total cost, Rs 135 crore comes from the National Disaster Mitigation Fund (NDMF), while the states contribute the remaining Rs 15 crore. The project aims to develop early warning systems, reduce vulnerability of downstream settlements, and prepare for potential GLOF (glacial lake outburst flood) events — such as the one that caused devastation in Sikkim in 2023.

Just days ago, the International High-Level Conference on Glacier Conservation in Dushanbe underscored these very concerns. Leaders and experts from across Central and South Asia highlighted the deep links between glacier health, water security, climate resilience, and the livelihoods of mountain communities. Special focus was given to the unique vulnerability of high-altitude populations, where climate-induced disasters are beginning to shape patterns of migration, poverty, and socio-political stress. The conference also reinforced the role of glacier conservation in advancing the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) — particularly those relating to clean water, climate action, and sustainable communities. These are not distant, abstract targets. For India, where national security and civilian life both depend on the stability of our glacial regions, they are central to our future.

Yet, the most critical shift must be one of mindset. Avalanches and glacial hazards are no longer seasonal inconveniences. They are now frontline risks — endangering soldiers, civilians, and infrastructure alike. We need to enhance knowledge and awareness to bring even greater foresight and urgency. Just as we have grown to understand cyclones and heatwaves better, avalanches now demand their own urgency. Whether in Siachen, Gurez or Blatten, the message is the same: When the mountains warn us, there’s hardly time to debate.

The writer is a former corps commander of the Srinagar-based 15 Corps and a member of the National Disaster Management Authority. Views are personal