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Limits of regulatory protection: How mining in Aravallis is disrupting lives and landscapes

The Aravalli Hills are an ancient mountain range—among the oldest geological formations in northwest India—stretching nearly 670 km from Delhi to near Ahmedabad in Gujarat, running in a southwest direction. The range passes through Delhi, Haryana, Rajasthan, and Gujarat, though it is most strongly identified in public imagination with Rajasthan.
There is wide acceptance of the crucial ecological role played by these hills. They protect the more fertile parts of northern India, as well as major cities like Delhi, from desertification. The National Capital Region, already severely troubled by dust and other forms of pollution, would face a significant worsening of conditions if the protective cover of the Aravallis were to crumble due to large-scale mining and related activities. This would allow much larger quantities of desert sand to be blown towards the country’s granaries and its major cities.
In addition, these hills can conserve huge amounts of water—a blessing for the water-scarce areas through which they pass. A major priority should therefore be to use the hills in protective ways, especially for water conservation. This would, in turn, help raise the water table and improve moisture conservation in the plains, thereby sustaining people’s livelihoods. Protecting the biodiversity of the hills should be another important objective, and this too can be linked to sustainable livelihoods.
While the need for ecologically protective policies for the Aravallis is widely accepted, there is significant disagreement on how this should be carried forward. A major controversy has erupted following a government decision—also accepted by the highest court—to define only those hills rising more than 100 metres above the local terrain as part of the Aravalli range. Many environmental activists and affected villagers fear that this definition will exclude a large part of the hills from protective policies. There are concerns that destructive mining practices, deforestation, and other forms of ecological ruin may spread over a wider area.
The government, on its part, has stated that mining will be restricted to a relatively small area, and that protected areas across much of the region will, in any case, be excluded from mining and other environmentally harmful activities. On balance, however, there is clear reason for concern that ecological disruption in the Aravallis could increase further.
In the midst of this controversy, I recalled villages I had visited some years ago in this region while studying the impact of large-scale mining. I present here a brief account of those findings to illustrate the extent of devastation that destructive mining practices can cause, and to help readers understand why many people in the region are opposing recent decisions.
This account is based on discussions with groups of villagers from Mahawa and Bharala villages in the Neem ka Thana block of Sikar district in Rajasthan, as well as some villagers from Jaipur district. The issues discussed had been troubling tens of thousands of people in around 150 villages across Jaipur, Sikar, and Jhunjhunu districts, which had been in the grip of highly destructive stone mining and stone crushers for several years—some for nearly two decades. During these group discussions, several men and women narrated horrific stories of loss and injustice. Many were on the verge of tears.
K. Meena, a senior social activist involved in defending people’s rights for nearly 20 years, said: “We have gone from pillar to post to get justice, but such is the stranglehold of powerful mine and crusher operators that even when we demand the implementation of the government’s own laws and rules, we are the ones who are beaten and repeatedly victimised. My colleague Pradeep Sharma, who belonged to a highly respected family of freedom fighters in Jhunjhunu district, was murdered because he dared to challenge these powerful forces. I can never forget the hours I spent beside the dead body of my brave friend in Pacheri village…”
At this point, Meena broke down, and it was only after a pause that he could continue. He added: “Instead of taking strong steps to punish the culprits, it was the victims who were harassed. As a result, Dayaram, the uncle of the deceased, also died of a heart attack due to extreme distress. Similar harassment earlier led to the death of another close colleague, Maliram Saini.”
These testimonies raise fundamental questions about the democratic rights of people to defend their lives and livelihoods. As many villagers told us, dust and poisonous fumes from blasting caused serious breathing and lung problems. Radhey Shyam of Shuklavas village said: “Not just workers, but ordinary villagers are being diagnosed with silicosis. There are nine such cases in my village alone.” The water table had fallen sharply and water sources had been polluted in many places. The Kasavati River, whose catchment lay in the mining belt, no longer exists. Consumption of poor-quality water led to several health problems, including damage to bones and teeth.
In several villages, houses were badly affected by mining. Large cracks appeared in walls, forcing families to live in constant fear of collapse. During blasting, residents of nearby houses were often asked by mine workers to stay outside for long periods to avoid danger. The threat was heightened by the gross violation of laws, with mines operating dangerously close to residential areas. Meena also spoke of frequent deaths caused by flying stone fragments during blasting. Overloaded stone trucks posed additional hazards and caused severe damage to roads.
Villagers reported that agricultural production in badly affected villages had fallen to around 30 per cent of normal yields. Animal husbandry also suffered heavily due to the destruction of pastures and nearby forests, apart from the direct threats posed to animals by blasting.
What I saw and heard in these villages left a deep impression on me. For a long time, I reflected on how the peaceful lives of people had been so abruptly and severely disrupted. These memories resurfaced amid the recent controversies. Clearly, there is an urgent need for stronger protective policies—policies that protect both the environment and the people—in the context of the Aravalli Hills.
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The writer is Honorary Convener, Campaign to Save Earth Now. His recent books include Protecting Earth for Children, Man over Machine, A Day in 2071, and Planet in Peril

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