Battered by the double whammy of capitalist mining ventures and a slew of litigations, the local communities of Sukhnag and Tosa Maidan struggle for justice and dignity. This is not merely a battle over environmental stewardship but a fight for survival, waged by the local communities — the true custodians of these natural treasures — against forces of greed and exploitation.
The Sukhnag River, coursing through the lush terrains of the Budgam district of the Pir Panjal range, is far more than a water source; it is the beating heart of local life. Its waters have nourished the fields and orchards that sustain entire communities for generations. Every year, after the rains, the river brings down rocks and silt, blocking the irrigation canals vital to agriculture.
Yet, the people — farmers, labourers, and their families — take it upon themselves to clear these canals, ensuring the steady flow of water that feeds their crops and supports their existence. This intimate relationship between the community and the river has been nurtured over centuries, binding the two in an unbreakable bond.
However, the river’s abundant resources have also become a target for exploitation. Powerful contractors, driven by profit, have turned what was once a shared natural resource into a battleground for industrial extraction. These entities, shielded by influence and wealth, began plundering the river’s materials on a massive scale, disrupting ecological balance and robbing the local community of its traditional rights and livelihoods.
Earlier, locals manually extracted sand and boulders from rivers to sustain their livelihoods. This small-scale, sustainable practice supported local farming communities and was gentle on river ecosystems.
Industrial Mining Contracts
Post-2019, the Geology & Mining Department began giving exclusive permits to powerful contractors. The riverbeds were leased out to licensed operators, and the locals, with their meagre resources, could not compete with them in the bidding, allowing mechanical extraction from the riverbeds, which is unsustainable, leaves local communities struggling and hampers the health of the rivers.
As a result, many lost their only source of income, while the same materials they once collected are now sold at inflated prices. Meanwhile, big players use machines for mining, disrupting rivers, harming fish, and damaging ecosystems that locals had carefully preserved for generations.
Molvi Maqbool, a prominent social political leader in Sukhnag says, “Community members used to earn an honest living transporting sand and stones from the river, ensuring their families had enough to eat. Now, the same work has been given to contractors, legally debarring the locals. Meanwhile, the wealthy contractors wreak a hundred times the damage with their machines and are hailed as innovators. This isn’t justice; it’s punishment for being poor.”
Community Resistance in Tosa Maidan
When the burden of exploitation became unbearable, the community rose in defiance. At the forefront of this resistance was the Tosa Maidan Bachav Front (TBF), a grassroots movement that united people to reclaim their rights over the Sukhnag’s resources. Through relentless advocacy, the TBF successfully halted the rampant plundering of the river. This was more than a victory; it was a moment of collective empowerment, reclaiming agency, and celebrating Indigenous resilience.
But the victory proved fleeting. What followed was an onslaught of Public Interest Litigations (PILs) and cases filed with the National Green Tribunal (NGT), ostensibly for environmental protection, but they ended up stripping small communities of their ability to access natural resources and to pave the way for monopolistic control by big businesses.
When the NGT imposed a ban, it labelled the local miners as “illegal” as they were operating without government permits. The control of the riverbeds, as a result, exclusively shifted to large corporations.
Small-scale operators, such as local tractor owners who transported river materials, bore the brunt of these litigations. Stripped of their small livelihoods by bans on local extraction, they were forced to buy materials at inflated prices from the same contractors who had once been barred.
The irony was galling: under the pretext of conservation, those who lived in harmony with the environment were penalized, while large-scale profiteers reaped the benefits. The legal system, instead of serving as a bulwark of justice, consolidated capitalist dominance.
Forest Rights Act and community rights
It is pertinent to mention that the Forest Rights Act (FRA) 2006 gives control of all natural resources to local Panchayats under CFR (Community Forest Right), which is totally violated and ignored by the government. Under FRA any operation/project needs permission from local Gram Sabha now.
The story of Tosa Maidan meadow mirrors this grim reality. For decades, Tosa Maidan was scarred by its use as a military firing range, its pristine beauty
marred by unexploded ordnance. When the military ceased control due to a community campaign led by TBF, and further declared it free after cleansing operations, it marked a new chapter for the region. The community, under the guidance of the TBF, transformed the meadow into a vibrant hub of community-driven eco-tourism and cultural renewal.
Festivals and community-driven tourism initiatives brought hope, jobs, and sustainable opportunities to the people. But this progress was dampened first by unexplained explosions between 2018 and 2020, claiming lives and raising concerns about the meadow’s safety. More recently, litigations emerged, alleging large-scale timber smuggling. These have impacted grassroots initiatives in community-driven tourism while the corporate ventures related to tourism go on unchecked.
The locals say the litigations benefit powerful lobbies. Ghulam Mohiuddin, TBF leader, says, “We have already apprised the government of the anti-people and anti-environment activities being carried out in this area in the guise of justice, and we demand the evaluation be carried out so that the perpetrators be held accountable. Tosa Maidan belongs to the people, and we will ensure it remains a symbol of hope and sustainability, not greed and exploitation.”
Battle for survival
These battles are deeply personal, defined by the human cost of systemic injustice. Bashir Ahmed, a tractor driver who once supported his family by transporting river materials, now struggles to make two ends meet. Countless farmers, labourers, and artisans face similar struggles, their lives upended by forces beyond their control.
These are not nameless victims and merely data; they are humans whose stories of resilience and suffering deserve to be heard. Not having a single meal and still finding ways to cope each day is their resilience as well as resistance.
Adding to their plight is the portrayal of indigenous resistance as regressive and outmoded in the media. These narratives are out of sync with the ground realities.
By way of such litigations and narratives, whether or not there is a deliberate design to hijack grassroots movements or serve a personal interest, local communities that have lived in harmony with their environment for generations are being silenced, leave them vulnerable to exploitation and marginalisation.
Stories of Sukhnag and Tosa Maidan
The intertwined stories of Sukhnag and Tosa Maidan demand urgent action and systemic change. Justice for these communities requires more than lip service; it demands that they are placed at the centre of decision-making processes. Participatory governance models, where decisions are made collectively and transparently, must replace top-down structures that prioritize profits over people.
Policies governing resource management must strike a delicate balance between environmental conservation and the economic needs of local communities, ensuring that livelihoods are protected without compromising ecological integrity.
An informed and empowered community is the most formidable defence against exploitation. Education campaigns that equip locals with the knowledge to challenge misinformation and resist oppression are vital. By fostering awareness and solidarity, we can ensure that local voices remain central to conversations about environmental justice.
The fight for the Sukhnag River and Tosa Maidan is a battle for dignity, survival, and the right to thrive. It is a testament to the resilience of communities that refuse to be silenced or displaced, even in the face of systemic oppression. Their struggle is a reminder that environmental conservation and human rights are not mutually exclusive but interconnected imperatives.
The writer is a renowned environmental campaigner and founder of J&K RTI Movement and can be reached at: dr.shaikhgr@gmail.com
Have you liked the news article?