The news of the sinking of Joshimath was widely covered. It evoked fear and anxiety in other Himalayan habitations in and outside Uttarakhand, lest a similar fate befall them. Most Himalayan sites, undergoing similar violative “development” as the Joshimath region, lie khurd-burd, as a pahari put it — hollowed out and mutilated, and thus, vulnerable to disasters.
The sinking of Joshimath has not yet stopped. Newer cracks are appearing in its houses and fields, and older ones are widening. Locals fear that particular stretches of land could slide down in heavy rainfall. Their dharna to demand rehabilitation continued from January till early April, when they were asked to discontinue it before the start of the yatra season, with assurances of prompt action. They are reportedly resuming the protests because they have no option but to stay in their damaged houses in the absence of formulation of a proper rehabilitation plan. The situation warrants serious reflection and raises questions that have relevance for most Himalayan areas.
Firstly, how is it that no accountability gets fixed for such calamities? A series of so-called run-of-the-river (RoR) hydropower projects have been pushed in all Himalayan states, despite the region being ecologically and geologically sensitive and seismically highly active. Studies have shown that the green energy claims of these projects are not correct. Instead, they are “risk-laden artefacts” that have proved to be socially and ecologically unjust.
Research has also shown that these projects have a role in creating and aggravating the disasters like the floods of 2013 and 2021 in Uttarakhand. Expert bodies like the Ravi Chopra committee constituted by the Supreme Court have established this. The committee reasoned that the construction of RoRs, at sediment-rich elevations formed by the receding of glaciers, above the main central thrust — like that of the Joshimath region — is an invitation for disaster.
The Tapovan Vishnugad project in Joshimath has been linked to the build-up of socio-ecological problems in the region since its commencement in 2005. It was a cause of deaths of hundreds of workers during the 2021 floods — the project did not have an alarm system. Locals allege that the project is responsible for the damages in many neighbouring villages along with Joshimath town. They have been protesting against it for close to two decades.
That Joshimath is built on an old landslide material and must not be subjected to the pressures of heavy machinery, blasting, drilling, and cutting of trees has been well established since the M C Mishra Committee report of 1976. The project constructed a web of tunnels in this fragile geography by using a boring machine and explosives, affecting the stability of the terrain adversely. That the project is geologically not feasible is also shown by a series of disasters it has faced and caused, delaying its commission endlessly. Why must the locals keep bearing the burden of destruction caused by such a project?
Second, why are the locals kept in the dark regarding the terrain’s safety, even as they are forced to spend sleepless nights in their damaged houses? Even after seven months have passed, no comprehensive report about the causes, extent, and future threats of land subsidence in Joshimath has come forth. The government had issued a gag order in January to all expert bodies preventing the revelation of information about subsidence and has so far refrained from sharing the report of an expert committee constituted by it to study the disaster. This is not the way to tackle a disaster situation in a democratic setup.
Third, if the government insists on pushing the RoRs despite all the risks, why must it not ensure the rehabilitation of the affected people? Even years after such projects have been in operation in the Himalayan states, there are no clear guidelines defining liabilities or official recognition of their impacts. RoRs’ impact on the mountain topography is not one-time, but long-term and widespread. They unfold over a period of time, and impact areas that may not be in close vicinity. Thus, there is a need to revise the recognition of “project-affected” of RoRs, and their responsibilities towards rehabilitation.
In several villages in Joshimath, the government’s rehabilitation policy is inadequate. There have scarcely been any attempts to frame an appropriate policy to take care of involuntary displacement by development projects. Instead of focusing on rehabilitation, the government’s endeavours remain limited to a “one-time-settlement”. Compensation has, however, been paid only for the houses. The amount remains inadequate and most victims are still waiting for it. Not in a situation to relocate, most have come back to stay in unsafe houses.
The approach of the government has been of downplaying the disaster to let yatra tourism go smoothly. No limit was put on the number of tourists. This begs the larger question: As the mountains are turning into places unfit for habitation, where will the mountain dwellers go? What will be the relevance of the “development” that is being promoted in “their” region, if it turns uninhabitable?
The writer is an independent scholar. Her doctoral and post-doctoral work is on development projects in Uttarakhand
