In June 1992, Manmohan Singh, then
finance minister in the Government of India, delivered the Foundation Day
Address of the Society for Promotion of Wastelands Development (SPWD). He spoke
on the topic ‘Environment and the New Economic Policies’. In his talk, Singh
urged “objective standards certify compliance with these standards, institution
of an effective system of verification and industry audit and heavy penalties
for non-compliance with approved environmental standards and norms” certify
compliance with these standards, institution of an effective system of verification
and industry audit and heavy penalties for non-compliance with approved
environmental standards and norms”
Back in 1992, Singh expressed the hope that the
new economic policies, by ending bureaucratic regulation of economic
activities, would “set free a substantial amount of scarce administrative
resources which can then be deployed in nation-building activities like rural
development, education, health and environmental protection”. The finance
minister ended his lecture by saying that, “I for one am convinced that the new
economic policies introduced since July 1991 will provide a powerful stimulus
to an accelerated drive both for poverty reduction and the protection of our
environment.”
There is a vigorous debate on the impact of
economic liberalisation on poverty reduction. I am not qualified to intervene
in this debate, but as a long-time student of environmental issues, I can
confidently state that in this latter respect Singh’s hope has been falsified.
The past two decades have seen a systematic assault on our lands, forests,
rivers, and atmosphere, whereby new industries, mines, and townships have been
granted clearances without any thought for our long-term future as a country
and a civilisation.
In the 1980s — the decade before Singh addressed
the SPWD — the environmental movement had forced the government to introduce a
series of important ameliorative measures. Pressures from popular agitations
such as the Chipko Andolan had made the nation’s forest policies more sensitive
to local communities and to ecological diversity. A movement led by a
professor-priest in Banaras had committed the government to a Ganga Action
Plan, which aimed to clean the polluted holy river as a prelude to the
restoration of other rivers and water-bodies. The scientific and social
critiques of large hydel projects had compelled a closer look at decentralised
and non-destructive alternatives for water conservation and irrigation.
When speaking of environmental issues, it is
important to recognise that in a densely populated country like India, these
have both an ecological as well as human dimension. Programmes to clear-cut
natural forests and replace them with exotic species deplete the soil even as
they deprive peasants of access to fuel, fodder and artisanal raw material.
Mining projects, if not properly regulated or carried out with state-of-the-art
technologies, ravage hillsides and pollute rivers used by villagers downstream.
In this sense, in India, environmental protection or conservation is not a
luxury — as it might be in rich, under-populated countries — but the very basis
of human (and national) survival.
This was the key insight of the Indian
environmental movement of the 1970s and 1980s, which informed both scientific
research as well as public policy. After economic liberalisation, however,
environmental safeguards have been systematically dismantled. The ministry of
environment and forests has cleared destructive projects with abandon.
Penalties on errant industries are virtually never enforced. Although by law
every new project has to have an Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA), these,
as the then environment minister Jairam Ramesh candidly admitted in March 2011,
are a “bit of a joke”, since “under the system we have today, the person who is
putting up the project prepares the report”.
As a consequence, the natural environment has
steadily deteriorated over the past 20 years. Levels of air pollution in our
cities have increased. More rivers are dead or dying owing to the influx of
untreated waste. Our forests remain under threat. The chemical contamination of
the soil continues unabated.
This undermining of India’s natural life-support
systems is ignored, indeed at times encouraged, by state and central
governments of all ideologies and parties. Consider the official hostility to
the comprehensive, fact-filled and carefully written report on the Western
Ghats prepared by a team of experts led by the world-famous ecologist Madhav
Gadgil. The Ghats are a natural treasure more precious even than the Himalaya.
Their forests, waters, and soils nourish the livelihoods of several hundred
million Indians. The Gadgil report urges a judicious balance of development and
conservation, whereby local communities as well as scientific experts are
consulted on mining, tourism, and energy generation projects. The report is in
the spirit of the democracy and social equality professed by the Constitution.
However, its recommendations do not sit easily with those who would auction our
natural resources to the highest bidder or the bidder with the most helpful
political connections. Chief ministers of states have condemned the report
without reading it. The Union minister of the environment has refused to meet
the distinguished authors of a report her own ministry commissioned. Meanwhile,
Gadgil and his equally esteemed colleague, MS Swaminathan, have been dropped
from the National Advisory Council. This has further impoverished that body,
since Professors Gadgil and Swaminathan are not ‘jholawalas’ but top-class
scientists, advocating policies based not on ideology but on logical reasoning
and empirical evidence. Singh’s prediction of 1992 — that the environmental
situation would improve after liberalisation — has unfortunately not come to
pass. Natural systems have continued to decline, while social conflicts have
increased, as developers unchecked by the State or the law aggressively
displace local farmers, herders, and fisherfolk. Let me end with a prediction
of my own. If the Gadgil report is junked, the Western Ghats will, in the years
to come, witness its own Singurs, Nandigrams, Niyamgiris, and Dantewadas.
Ramachandra Guha is the current holder of the
Philippe Roman Chair in History and International Affairs, London School of
Economics. The views expressed by the author are personal.
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