Uttarakhand: Warning bells on deaf ears......Uttarakhand floods: The prophecy that was…

Dhruba Jyoti Purkait and Osama Salman, HT,  New Delhi, July 02, 2013: “The Himalayas are sick and will die unless there is massive forestation and a moratorium of at least ten years on tree felling. And if they die, the country will surely die in a chain of natural disasters.” Hindustan Times, 1977

Although written over 35 years ago, the warning sounds eerily relevant. A deadly cocktail of rampant tourism, increasing population pressure and a spate of hydroelectric power projects have clashed with climate change, leading to tragic results for residents.

The Rudraprayag district, home to the Kedarnath shrine, has seen eight major monsoon-related disasters in the last 34 years. Tourism in the state has gone up by 141% since its formation.

“Buildings have switched over to reinforced concrete cement from wood and stone, which radiate more heat at night, making the region warmer,” said Maharaj Pandit, head of the department of environmental studies,University of Delhi. 

A tourism boom and a severe crunch in hotel beds for tourists fan illegal structures, most of which are built on flood plains and dried up river beds, cutting off a river’s natural drainage.

Such warning bells were also sounded before.

“While exploiting the river banks in the Himalaya, it is essential that river history be taken into account, so that these resorts don’t become deathtraps for tourists,” Chandi Prasad Bhatt, Magsaysay award winning leader of the Chipko movement, had written in Hindustan Times fifteen years ago.

The state has 558 hydroelectric power projects in the pipeline, which could affect 80 per cent of the Bhagirathi and 65 per cent of the Alaknanda, said Sunita Narain, director of the Centre for Science and Environment.

“Dams and roads blast their way through mountains, triggering landslides. Moreover, the debris from construction is dumped on the riverbed. So the river floods easily,” said Vandana Shiva, noted environmentalist.

“The proposed dam density in Uttarakhand would be 62 times the global average,” said Pandit.

This also compounds climate changes. Countrywide, heavy rain events show a 14.5 percent spike per decade, according to the National Atmospheric Research Laboratory, Tirupati.

“Himalayas are warming faster than any mountain region,” said Pandit.

While the global average temperature increase is 0.74 degree Celsius in the last 100 years, the Tibetan plateau is set to register a jump of 5 degree Celsius by 2100, reports the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development.

This coincided with massive development in an earthquake-prone area; simultaneously, urban population also zoomed with car registrations showing a 700 percent jump between 2001 and 2012.

“Badrinath is now more crowded than Chandni Chowk,” says Pandit, “The Himalayas cannot become Surat, Ahmedabad or Mumbai.”

As the 1977 report prophesies, “Time is running out not only for the Himalayas but also for the country.” It is best that we listen this time around.

Uttarakhand floods: The prophecy that was…

Mira Behn, HT: The devastation was inevitable in the Uttarakhand flash floods. There were signs, few subtle, most others blaring. Many an article was written in the press through the decades which highlighted that disaster was in the making.

Mira Behn, a prominent environmentalist and a household name in Garhwal, wrote many articles in the press as well as letters to prime minister Rajiv Gandhi bringing to the notice the dire consequences of neglecting the ecological system in the Himalayan region.

Unwittingly, she became one of the torch-bearers of modern India’s environmental movement. 

The following are excerpts of her article published in The Hindustan Times on June 5, 1950 titled ‘Something is wrong in the Himalaya’  

“Year after year the floods in the North of India seem to be getting worse, and this year they have been absolutely devastating. This means there is something radically wrong in the Himalaya, and that “something” is without doubt, connected with the forests.

I have become painfully aware of a  vital change in the species of trees which is creeping up and up in the southern slopes — those slopes which let down the flood waters on the plains below.

This deadly changeover is from Banj (Himalayan Oak) to Chil (sic) pine. It is on at an alarming speed and because it is not a matter of deforestation, but change from one kind of forest to another, it is not taken sufficiently seriously. In fact the quasi-commercial forest department is inclined to shut its eyes to the phenomenon, because the Banj brings them in no cash for the coffers, whereas the Chill pine is very profitable, yielding as it does both timber and resin.

But what are these crores of revenue worth if all, and more than all of the amount of money, has to be spent each year on trying to repair the damages caused by floods?

The Banj leaves, falling as they do, year by year, create a rich black mould in which develops a thick tangled mass of undergrowth (bushes, creepers, and grasses), which in their turn add to the leaf-mould deposit and the final result is a forest in which almost all the rain water becomes absorbed. Some of it evaporates back into the air and the rest percolates slowly down to the lower altitudes.

The Chil pine produces just the opposite effect. It creates with its pine needles a smooth, dry carpet, which absorbs nothing, and which at the same time prevents the development of any undergrowth worth the name. In fact often the ground in Chil pine forest is as bare as a desert.

But why are Banj forests disappearing so fast? It is not merely that the forest department spreads Chil pine, but largely because the department does not seriously organize and control the lopping of the Banj trees by the villagers for cattle fodder.

When Banj trees get weak and scraggy, from overlopping, the Chil pine gets a footing in the forest, and once it grows up and starts casting its pine needles on the ground, all other trees die out.

If the intruding Chil pine is pushed back to their correct altitude, and the Banj forests resuscitated, the burden on the present trees will, year by year, decrease, and precious fodder for the cattle will actually become more plentiful

The Banj forest are very centres of nature’s economic cycle on the southern slope of the Himalayas. To destroy them is to cut out the heart and thus bring death to the whole structure.

The forest of the Himalaya are the Guardians of the Northern Plains, which, in their turn, are the Granary of India. Surely such guardians deserve the utmost care and attention that the Government can give them.”