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FROM being lauded as the ‘temples of modern India’ to being derided as the ‘icons of destructive development’, large multipurpose dam projects have suffered a dramatic decline in status in Indian imagination and discourse. True, not everyone shares this view; even now authorities are busy constructing and planning many such projects. But, there is little denying the loss of sheen. And few can claim to have engineered that shift more than Medha Patkar and her associates in the Narmada Bachao Andolan. The long, arduous, and ‘heroic’ struggle to block the Sardar Sarovar dam on the Narmada is now part of the folklore of Indian, if not global, environmentalism.
It is not that large dams were earlier welcomed as an unmixed blessing. The Damodar Valley Corporation projects modelled after the Tennessee Valley projects in the US had their share of detractors. No less than K.N. Raj questioned the social cost-benefit analysis of the Bhakra Nangal dam. The farmers of Uttara Kanara were successful in stalling the construction of the Bedthi dam. And the dam projects on the Koel and Karo rivers in Jharkhand faced ferocious tribal resistance and still have to get off the ground.
But it was the struggle over the Sardar Sarovar dam that really fired the imagination of social and environmental activists in the mid-1980s. While the shift in global mood – many countries, particularly in the West, had by then started questioning the wisdom of such projects – did provide a filip (and legitimacy?) to the local resistance, it was more the strategic repertoire on part of Indian activists that propelled Sardar Sarovar to centre-stage. For close to a decade and half, a combination of direct action (dharnas, marches, rallies, threatened jal samarpan) alongside successful national and global networking with media, other activist groups, donor agencies and foreign governments, forced the government on the back foot.
Even as they attempted to discredit and crush the resistance, project authorities had simultaneously to concede better terms of compensation, rehabilitation and resettlement for those facing displacement, agree to pari-passu environmental regeneration measures and, above all, throw open the project to enhanced public scrutiny, transparency and accountability. And even though the end was somewhat predictable – the Supreme Court agreeing to the continuation of the project – it would be churlish to deny that the manner in which state authorities and development experts imagine such projects has forever changed. Even those critical of the project but simultaneously uneasy with both the worldview and the strategy-tactics of the protesters will concede as much. For this seminal contribution to the ongoing debates on environment and development, even the meaning of development, we need to be grateful to Medha and her associates.
Contingent defeat has, however, not dimmed Medha’s ardour and resolve to hold the state accountable to its promises. Speaking recently to Frontline (21 May 2010), Medha points out that ‘the struggle cannot be over.’ While admitting that ‘something concrete has been achieved in terms of rehabilitation’, she insists on the need for a through review which can ‘expose the real costs and benefits of each project’, including the many lapses in meeting the promised ‘social and environmental measures.’
Far more disturbing, however, is the detailing of how state and project authorities undermine and distort the commitment made to the Supreme Court by diverting water and power to cities and corporations instead of meeting the needs of drinking water and farming. It appears that once public gaze shifts from the project, well-entrenched interests take over and what was once touted as a public project to enhance social welfare essentially ends up serving corporate interests.
At a time when the government is seeking to fast track a wide range of development projects – roads, mines, power plants, factories, special economic zones, and the like – diluting the environmental and social safeguards that various resistance movements had won at great cost would be an incalculable tragedy. Already we are witnessing ugly conflicts over the proposed takeover of land, forest and water resources – a conflict that is only likely to intensify.
Unfortunately, the Ministry of Environment and Forests, more specifically the minister, is under pressure for dragging his feet on granting clearances, including from his cabinet colleagues. And while one grants the importance of higher growth for poverty reduction and employment generation, kow-towing to a process that further penalizes those already on the margin cannot be good for our democracy. It is thus critical to learn from both the strengths (and weaknesses) of the struggles over the Narmada so that we, as a society do not fritter away the few gains we have made towards enhancing social accountability.
Harsh Sethi
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