From disaster to disaster: Himachal's unpreparedness exposed

Manshi Asher

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As per the Himachal Pradesh State Disaster Management Authority, between 2017 and 2022, the state faced disaster-related monetary losses worth Rs 8,000 crore. In 2023, Himachal has already seen an equivalent loss and there have been over 100 deaths so far. And we are barely half-way through the monsoon. A season, considered life-giving and vital for the socio-ecological wellbeing and economic security of not just mountains but this entire tropical country, has become synonymous with disasters. Surprisingly, Himachal’s data of the past six years shows that five of these were rain-deficit monsoons. The irony is that the more these disasters are sensationalised, the more they become normalised. Visuals of floating cars, sinking buildings and washed-out roads may remain in the memory of those far away from the crisis. Those who are in the middle of it and are hurt the most in the aftermath, tend to be forgotten. Those who lose their life’s earnings are often isolated as they grapple with the political questions of ‘why this is happening’ and ‘who is accountable’.

The more such disasters are sensationalised, the more they become normalised. Those in the middle of it often tend to be forgotten

Like the distraught women in Sainj valley of Kullu district whose homes in the ‘colony’ near the river got washed away by the sudden deluge on July 10. Speaking about two projects, 100-MW Sainj and 520-MW Parbati III, being responsible for the delay in opening the dam gates, Tara Devi said, “We had cooperated with them (NHPC and HPPCL) by consenting to the projects. The least they could do is give us a warning. We have lost everything. We’ve been betrayed many times. We want land in exchange of land.”

The Himachal government has also pegged the opening of floodgates without warning as an issue. Timely flood warnings are important to prevent fatalities, but cannot resolve Himalayan dam hazards. On July 24, there were warnings of a breach due to a gate malfunction in the Malana II dam in the neighbouring Parbati valley. Dr Navin Juyal, a renowned geologist, in his video from the valley highlighted that “the dam gates were probably jammed with boulders”.

The Beas river basin with its tributaries has seen massive hydropower dam proliferation over the last three decades. All the dams store the fast-flowing waters of the rivers behind reservoirs, and divert them into tunnels to drop them back into the powerhouse near the riverbed to generate power, that is transmitted to the Northern Grid. The cascade of dams acts as a barrier for the free-flowing river. The massive muck generated from the underground tunnelling is disposed of along the riverbed owing to lack of space. This muck invariably adds to the sediment load of rivers in spate during the monsoons, multiplying the risk of flooding.

Starting near Manali up to Mandi, in a stretch of about 150 km, the major dams in the Beas basin are Alain Duhangan commissioned in 1993, Parbati II (under construction since 1998) and Parbati III, commissioned in 2014; Malana I in 2001, Malana II in 2011; Sainj in 2017, Larji in 2007 and Pandoh-Dehar, the oldest and the largest of them all, was operational by the late 1970s. Pandoh dam picks up the Beas waters and channels them into the Sutlej. As a result, by the time it reaches Mandi town, the mighty river is slow-flowing, down to a trickle sometimes, only to be brought alive by other tributaries lower down. In the absence of state regulation, diminished river flows are bound to give a false sense of what constitutes a ‘safe’ zone for habitation, which also changes settlement patterns — spilling into the floodplain. Often, marginalised or landless castes are allotted land or end up inhabiting these unsafe spaces exposed to risk.

Post 2000, the construction of Rohtang tunnel and four-laning of the National Highway after 2014, apart from piling up the quantum of debris, have driven legally authorised land use changes in this region, including loss of forests. Landscape transformations that came with the global market economy also include a rapid shift to horticulture and commercial vegetable cultivation. This is a critical livelihood option that also requires village link roads for better market access in far-flung areas. Regions like Thunag in Seraj, Mandi, from where the viral mudslide video bringing down tree trunks originated, had been bereft of road connectivity for years. Local contractors and politicians, however, instrumentalised rural road construction as electoral planks. Blasting through mountains with the least concern for slope stability or drainage, non-engineered roads with zero monitoring have also triggered landslides and added to destruction by cloudbursts.

Mega infrastructures in Kullu district also gave an impetus to urbanisation and unparalleled mass tourism in the area. News reports suggest that between June 12 and 18 this year, 62,068 vehicles crossed the Rohtang tunnel. The footfall is bound to bring rapid regional climatic variations. A study suggests that of the 31 major flash floods that occurred in Himachal between 1990 and 2018, most were in the Beas river basin. According to a recent paper, in the upper Beas valley (Kullu-Manali region), there has been an increase of 378 per cent in the average occurrence of ‘extreme weather events’ (EWEs) in recent years (2016 to 2020) than compared to the previous 16 years (2000 to 2015). Panjab University researchers have shown a 300 per cent rise in built-up area here in the last five decades. So when the Beas came roaring down this monsoon, its force and volume multiplied manifold. Why were we flabbergasted? Did we expect the flood embankments and riverside plantations to channel this force?

These EWEs are attributed to climate change without examining how they may be triggered or compounded by local land use change and the larger political economy of development.

Since 2005, and especially after the 2013 Kedarnath tragedy, the Central and state government policies and budgetary allocations have set up Disaster Management Authorities for annual accounting of loss and damages, and timely rescue and relief operations. Himachal put its own State Disaster Management Force in place about 12 years ago. Disaster preparedness has been limited to creating disaster zonation maps that have marked out the hazard vulnerable regions and evolving early warning systems using latest technologies. The red, orange and yellow alerts of rainfall predictions from the IMD and NDMA arrive as social media and text messages. However, citizen participation is limited to disaster awareness training. These techno-managerial responses are grossly inadequate because disaster prevention and issues of accountability, justice and citizen-centered land use planning are not on the agenda. Which is why the National Disaster Management’s report on the Joshimath disaster is pending months after its rapid subsidence, and the affected people await rehabilitation.

In the current economic model, large hydropower dams are seen as ‘green growth’. Companies are insulated from disaster risk and recover their losses through loan waivers and insurance against ‘natural’ calamities. This even as they transfer the costs and risks to the affected populations and the public exchequer. Early warnings that the affected communities and scientists gave while objecting to mega projects have not been heeded. Regulations are removed and democratic spaces shrunk for ease of doing business. The most recent example is of the Forest (Conservation) Amendment Bill that the Lok Sabha cleared on July 26. This exempts certain kind of projects from the Centre’s forest clearance and scrutiny. In Himachal, where 70 per cent of the land is legally classified forests, those rendered landless by disaster are awaiting forest clearance for their rehabilitation. No exemptions have been made for them.

Mountain topographies are complex, especially the seismically active and geologically dynamic Himalayas. These have been difficult, hazard-prone terrains, where diverse communities have struggled, thrived and built resilience with sustainability. Systemic, often state-led, policy shifts have provided opportunities, but also induced disruptions, altering lifestyles, land use and people-nature relationships. This has also impacted the magnitude, intensity, predictability and the frequency of hazards turning into disasters. These are not just climatic processes but interwoven with historical socio-economic and political phenomena at the global, national and local level. It is time to redefine ‘climate disasters’and we all need to take responsibility. Some of us more than others.

— The writer is a Himachal-based environment activist