In the Andaman and Nicobar Islands is a quasi-government agency called the Andaman and Nicobar Islands Integrated Development Corporation (ANIIDCO). Established in 1988 under the Companies Act “to develop and commercially exploit natural resources for the balanced and environment-friendly development of the territory,” its main activities include trading petroleum products, India-made foreign liquor, and milk, managing tourism resorts, and infrastructure development for tourism and fisheries. Its average annual turnover and profit over the last three financial years has been ₹370 crore and ₹35 crore, respectively.
In August 2020, this little-known entity saw a striking makeover — an expansion of portfolio, capacity, and business interests that the biggest corporations might only dream about. Virtually overnight, it was given charge of implementing a ₹72,000-crore mega-infrastructure project in Great Nicobar Island that involves the construction of a massive trans-shipment port, a power plant, an airport, and a township, and a tourism project spread over 130 sq km of forest land.
Two years later, ANIIDCO got two crucial clearances from the ministry of environment, forests, and climate change (MoEFCC) for the project. First, in October 2022, the ministry’s Forest Advisory Committee (FAC) allowed for what is perhaps the largest single diversion of forest land in recent times. It signed away 130 sq km (larger than Mumbai’s Sanjay Gandhi National Park) of some of the most pristine and biodiverse tropical forests anywhere. Then, about a month later, the Expert Appraisal Committee (EAC) granted the crucial environmental clearance, clearing the path for the project to move ahead.
Many serious concerns were raised, including the fact that nearly one million trees would be cut for just this one project. The initial estimates varied from about 8.5 lakh in the project documents to 9.64 lakh in a statement made by the government in Parliament. Most were so shocked by the number of trees that had to be sacrificed in an era of accelerating climate crisis that questions about their authenticity never came up.
As it emerges now, and as has been reported in the Hindustan Times, the shockingly high one million number is itself a gross underestimate by at least a factor of three. We stand to lose at least three million trees at a minimum; most likely much more.
If this is indeed true, as the available data suggests rather clearly, several questions come up immediately. What information did the project proponent provide to the ministry when it sought permission for the project and the diversion of forest land? How could it not know the number of trees to be cut when it sought to invest ₹72,000 crore in the island? Was the number underestimated deliberately, or did they not know better?
One could perhaps excuse an entity whose main business experience has been in selling milk, alcohol, and petroleum, but what about the scientific and environmental bodies within the MoEFCC itself? And what of the environment and forest clearances? Should they not be considered vitiated and therefore invalid?
Why did the EAC and the FAC, with all the resources and power at their disposal, not ask the right questions? Or is it that they are more interested in facilitating these projects rather than playing the role the law and the Constitution have mandated for them? An insightful glimpse of the EAC’s position, scientific capability and skill with language is visible in the conditions it set while granting environmental clearance to the project.
Here are two examples:
“No trees will be cut in one go. These will be done in a phased manner and depending on the progress of the work on an annual basis (…) All trees which are exceptionally tall and old in age shall be safeguarded, as far as possible.”
What, if one may ask, is an “exceptionally tall tree” and how does one decide the right age for a tree to be considered old? To begin with, how do you estimate the age of the tree? And what does it mean to safeguard them “as far as possible”?
The second example is an even better one: “Trees with nesting holes of endemic owls to be identified and geo-tagged with the help from SACON (Salim Ali Centre for Ornithology and Nature). Such trees shall be safeguarded, as far as possible.”
Ask any birdwatcher, and they’ll tell you how difficult it is to see an owl (any owl), considering the bird’s behaviour and nocturnal habits. Now compound that with the chance of finding a nesting hole in a forest of three million (sorry, one million!) trees. Now compound that with the fact that trees in the Nicobar rainforest can grow more than 100 feet into the sky.
Let’s assign just five minutes per tree, and the total time required for a million trees would be over 83,000 hours. This is about six calendar years even if 10 of our best birdwatchers simultaneously spent eight hours a day for six months a year (monsoons will consume the other six) doing nothing but surveying these forests.
Now read this clearance condition again and see what sense you can make of it. This is when ANIIDCO has already invited contractors to enumerate, cut, and transport these trees.
And let’s also hope our birdwatcher friends from SACON are not still dangling 100 feet from the ground looking for nesting holes when the axe meets these trees that should have been safeguarded. But only as far as possible.
Pankaj Sekhsaria is associate professor, Centre for Technology Alternatives for Rural Areas (CTARA), at IIT-Bombay. He has authored/curated five books on the A&N Islands, the latest being The Great Nicobar Betrayal. The views expressed are personal.
