Aravalli at the crossroads: Environment, democracy, and the crisis of justice

By  Rajendra Singh* 

The functioning of the Ministry of Environment, Forests and Climate Change has undergone a troubling shift. Once mandated to safeguard forests and ecosystems, the Ministry now appears increasingly aligned with industrial interests. Its recent affidavit before the Supreme Court makes this drift unmistakably clear. An institution ostensibly created to protect the environment now seems to have strayed from that very purpose.

After the Earth Summit in Rio de Janeiro, the term “sustainable” entered global discourse. Over time, it has often been used to legitimise exploitation, pollution, and encroachment. I have personally witnessed the emergence and misuse of this concept. Without revisiting the many struggles waged against it, one fact stands out clearly: in the context of mining, the idea of “sustainability” has been deeply misleading. Mining involves cutting into the earth, extracting what lies beneath, and removing it permanently. What is taken can never be replaced. How, then, can mining ever be described as sustainable?

Until November 2025, the Supreme Court of India delivered several judgments recognising the Aravalli range as part of India’s ancient natural heritage. These decisions helped protect its forests, wildlife, and tribal communities, thereby preserving the mountain range as an integrated whole. Governments, too, largely cooperated with the judiciary in this effort.

About twelve years ago, it still appeared that the judiciary functioned independently of the legislature and executive. Today, however, there is a growing perception that judicial decision-making is increasingly influenced by governmental or corporate pressures. As a result, a judiciary that once placed democracy, nature, and culture at the centre of its reasoning now risks being seen as complicit in processes that could erase an ancient heritage like the Aravalli.

Together, the legislature and executive seem to have enabled a course that damages India’s global reputation, primarily for the benefit of industrial interests. Whether this has occurred deliberately or inadvertently is unclear. What is clear is that the consequences will be borne by the public, the government, and the natural heritage of the Aravalli itself.

This concern is not limited to one region. Across Telangana, Karnataka, Uttar Pradesh, Delhi, Haryana, Himachal Pradesh, Uttarakhand, and the northeastern states, people have begun mobilising to protect their mountains. These movements could grow to resemble the farmers’ movement in scale and intensity. It is deeply unfortunate that such developments may also affect public confidence in the Supreme Court—an institution that has historically commanded immense respect.

The situation has reached a point where even spiritual leaders have begun openly criticising judicial decisions. Swami Shri Shivanand Saraswati has gone so far as to name a former Chief Justice, accusing him of failing to understand India’s culture, nature, and heritage. Such voices, once rare, are now emerging from many quarters.

India is a democracy, and in a democracy the people are supreme. The Constitution guarantees equality to all. Yet, in the case of the Aravalli, judicial reasoning has divided the mountain range into “high” and “low” parts—protecting one while permitting the destruction of the other. This has generated deep public resentment. The same judiciary that has historically stood for social justice now risks creating a sense of inequality by sanctioning the destruction of the lower portions of India’s oldest mountain range.

For many, the Aravalli is like a mother. An order that preserves only the “head” while cutting away the limbs, stomach, and chest inevitably evokes anguish and a sense of injustice. Dividing the Aravalli is seen as dividing Indian society itself. The collective appeal of the people is simple: do not divide us; do not dismember our shared natural heritage.

Just as the judiciary once acted decisively to protect the Aravalli, we again place our faith in it. We hope for a decision that recognises the Aravalli as a single, living entity—worthy of protection in its entirety, like a human body. Foreign scientific definitions that view mountains merely as heaps of exploitable material cannot capture India’s civilisational relationship with nature. For us, mountains are sacred and divine.

Mountains are not objects of extraction; they are revered as living embodiments of the five elements—earth, sky, air, fire, and water. The Aravalli nourishes life and sustains ecosystems. It must remain the foundation of our collective future, not a casualty of short-term gain.

The judiciary is independent, and its independence is its greatest strength. We hope it will uphold this independence by placing India’s nature and human culture at the centre of its deliberations, by hearing the pain of the Aravalli, and by restoring public trust. With humility and faith, the people of the Aravalli once again seek justice—for themselves, for the mountain range, and for the dignity of India’s democratic institutions.

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*Known as Waterman of India