THE UNTOLD STORY FROM UTTARAKHAND
RAVI
CHOPRA
It is one week since Uttarakhand’s worst disaster in living
memory. Flash floods resulting from extremely intense rainfall swept away
mountainsides, villages and towns, thousands of people, animals, agricultural
fields, irrigation canals, domestic water sources, dams, roads, bridges, and
buildings — anything that stood in the way.A week later, media attention
remains riveted on the efforts to rescue tens of thousands of pilgrims and
tourists visiting the shrines in the uppermost reaches of Uttarakhand’s sacred
rivers. But the deluge spread far beyond the Char Dhams — Yamunotri, Gangotri,
Kedarnath and Badrinath — to cover the entire State. The catchments of many
smaller rivers also witnessed flash floods but the media has yet to report on
the destruction there. Eyewitness accounts being gathered by official agencies
and voluntary organisations have reported devastation from more than 200
villages so far and more affected villages are being reported every day.
Villagers whose homes, lands and animals have been swept away by the floods are
in a state of shock trying to imagine day-to-day survival without their basic
livelihood assets.
Distorted coverage
The national media’s focus on the plight of tourists has grossly
distorted the true nature of the tragedy even in the Char Dham area. It has not
reported on the fate of the thousands — almost all male — who come from the
villages in these valleys (and elsewhere) to earn a major part of their
families’ annual income on the yatra routes during the tourist season. They
help run the dhabas that line the entire 14 km trek route from GauriKund to
Kedarnath; they sell raincoats, umbrellas, canes, walking sticks, soft drinks,
water bottles, home-made snacks and other supplies. On their backs, they carry
children, the old, the infirm and tourists who are simply unfit and out of
shape to walk the entire route. They run along the path with their ponies or
horses carrying yatris.Local residents tell of village after village in the
Mandakini valley below Kedarnath resounding with wails from homes whose boys
and men have not yet returned and are now feared dead. One village near
Guptkashi alone counts 78 missing.
The tragedy of the families dependent on religious tourism for
much of their annual income is compounded by the fact that the yatra season is
over for the year, and is unlikely to resume even next year given the
destruction of the roads and bridges in the upper reaches. Several thousand
Char Dham valley families will now fall below the poverty line. Till the
revival of the yatras, what will be the alternative sources of employment for
the newly unemployed? Most likely we will see increased male outmigration from
the region.Last week’s disaster not only spelt doom for thousands of household
economies but also dealt a grievous blow to Uttarakhand’s lucrative religious
tourism industry. With the media focus almost exclusively on the fate of
pilgrims, the scenes of the deluge and its aftermath will linger on in public
memory, making the revival of tourism doubtful in the foreseeable future. The
abject failure of the State government, political leaders and the administration
is therefore likely to impoverish the State coffers too.The scale of
participation in the kaanwar festival that starts in July — when about a million people
throng to the banks of the Ganga at Hardwar over a couple of weeks and take
back Gangajal to their homes — will be revealing. The pressure on the State
government will continue through September when the Nanda Devi Raj Jaat
(yatra), a once-in-12-years event, is scheduled. A detailed discussion on the
future of Uttarakhand’s tourism industry is not possible here but it is clear
that it requires a radical overhaul. With the ineptness of the State government
now fully exposed, new policies for the revival of tourism in Uttarakhand must
follow an open debate.
Not a ‘freak’ incident
The impact of the floods on Uttarakhand’s tourism leads to
larger questions of what kind of development Himalayan States should pursue.
Before delving into that, it is important to understand the nature of the
rainfall that deluged the State. Already several voices are arguing that the
deluge is a random, ‘freak’ event. Odisha’s super cyclone in 1999, torrential
rains in Mumbai in 2005, and now the Uttarakhand downpour constitute three
clear weather related events in less than 15 years, each causing massive
destruction or dislocation in India. These can hardly be called ‘freak’ events.Several
reports from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) have
repeatedly warned that extreme weather incidents will become more frequent with
global warming. We are already riding the global warming curve. We will have to
take into account the likelihood of more frequent extreme weather events when
planning for development, especially in the fragile Himalayan region where
crumbling mountains become murderous.
In the 1990s, when the demand for a separate State gained
momentum, at conferences, meetings, workshops and seminars, Uttarakhandi people
repeatedly described the special character of the region. Consciousness created
by the pioneering Chipko Andolan raised the hopes of village women that their
new State would pursue a green development path, where denuded slopes would be
reforested, where fuel wood and fodder would be plentiful in their own village
forests, where community ownership of these forests would provide their men
with forest products-based employment near their villages instead of forcing
them to migrate to the plains, where afforestation and watershed development
would revive their dry springs and dying rain-fed rivers, and where the scourge
of drunken, violent men would be overcome.Year after year — in cities, towns
and villages — they led demonstrations demanding a mountain state of their own.
Theirs was a vision of development that would first enhance the human, social
and natural capital of the State. Recalling the tremendous worldwide impact of
the Chipko movement, Uttarakhandi women dreamed of setting yet another example
for the world of what people-centric development could look like.But in the 13
years after statehood, the leadership of the State has succumbed to the
conventional model of development with its familiar and single-minded goal of
creating monetary wealth. With utter disregard for the State’s mountain
character and its delicate ecosystems, successive governments have blindly
pushed roads, dams, tunnels, bridges and unsafe buildings even in the most
fragile regions.
In the process, denuded mountains have remained deforested,
roads designed to minimise expenditure rather than enhance safety have
endangered human lives, tunnels blasted into mountainsides have further weakened
the fragile slopes and dried up springs, ill-conceived hydropower projects have
destroyed rivers and their ecosystems, and hotels and land developers have
encroached on river banks.Yes, wealth has been generated but the beneficiaries
are very few — mainly in the towns and cities of the southern terai plains
and valleys where production investments have concentrated. In the mountain
villages, agricultural production has shrivelled, women still trudge the
mountain slopes in search of fodder, fuel wood and water, and entire families
wait longingly for an opportunity to escape to the plains.Last week’s floods
have sounded an alarm bell. To pursue development without concern for the
fragile Himalayan environment is to invite disaster. Eco-sensitive development
may mean a slower monetary growth rate but a more sustainable and equitable
one.(The writer is Director, People’s Science Institute, Dehra Dun and
Member (Expert), National Ganga River Basin Authority)
Prof.
John Kurakar
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