Published in Scroll.In, 26th October 2017
In the first week of October, the Ministry of Environment, Forests and Climate Change issued an amendment to the Coastal Regulation Zone Notification, 2011, which regulates development on India’s coastline. The change in the rules allows the mining of atomic minerals (such as uranium and thorium, which are mostly used to generate nuclear energy) in Coastal Regulation Zone areas notwithstanding their availability in other areas. While environmentalists have expressed concern over this amendment and its implications on fragile coastal areas, the change is worrisome for another reason. This is the eighth time in the last three years that the ministry has dispensed with the requirement of a public notice and instead of first issuing a draft has straight away come out with a final amendment to the notification.
The Coastal Regulation Zone Notification was first issued in 1991. It saw close to 20 amendments and eight reviews in the following 20 years before it was replaced by a new notification in 2011. While the 2011 notification was to piece together all these amendments in one document, it also presented an opportunity for public engagement in designing a law. Numerous consultations, dialogue and negotiations between key actors including fishing groups, civil society, environmentalists, urban planners and policy-makers preceded the new law. But three years later, the notification was subjected to a review by an expert committee and a series of amendments – the number of which has now reached 12.
Of these 12 amendments, eight were issued without first publishing a draft that would have enabled feedback from concerned citizens and those likely to be affected by the changes. And of the eight amendments, four dealt with extending the validity of the existing Coastal Zone Management Plan that was approved under the 1991 notification. The Coastal Zone Management Plan is a reference document that guides coastal development and implementation of the Coastal Regulation Zone Notification. In 2011, as a new notification replaced the 1991 version, it brought with it the need to prepare a fresh Coastal Zone Management Plan within two years, for the old plan would cease to be valid by then. However, the new plan is still in the making and the existing plan has been given several extensions, the latest one in July.
Besides the extensions to the Coastal Zone Management Plan, the amendments in which the ministry bypassed the draft stage pertain to the following changes:
While allowing relaxations to tourism projects, the ministry did not acknowledge that it was evading the issuance of a draft – perhaps because the changes brought through this amendment lay in an annexure (and not the main text) of the notification, which provides guidelines for the construction of hotels and beach resorts in Coastal Regulation Zones. But in the seven other amendments, the ministry cited “public interest” to justify this snipping of the legal procedure of amending a piece of law.
Such generous use of the phrase in such a distorted manner poses a threat to the very concept of public interest. Black’s Law Dictionary (Eighth Edition) defines public interest as:
“General welfare of the public that warrants recommendation and protection; something in which the public as a whole has a stake.”
Allowing mining and relaxations to tourism projects in coastal regions has direct implications for a large section of the population that resides in these areas. It affects the livelihoods of people living in more than 3,200 fishing villages. If we factor in the ecological services of the coast – erosion control, water balance and waste processing, among others – the entire population of the country seems to have a stake in coastal protection and regulation.
Instead, the ministry seems to imply that the mining of atomic minerals (irrespective of whether they are available in mainland areas or not) and the construction of memorials is in public interest. This offers a twisted understanding of the word. Using the public interest clause and dispensing with the need to seek public comment on activities that undermine coastal conservation and livelihoods is contradictory in itself. In a way, the government is saying that the matter is of public interest but does not warrant an input from the public.
This discretionary use of public interest sets a wrong precedent: in the past three years, reviews, amendments and circulars pertaining to the Coastal Regulation Zone Notification have largely been closed-door activities. In 2014, the committee tasked with reviewing the notification consulted only the state governments and submitted its report to the ministry in January 2015. The report was kept out of public view until the Central Information Commission, in response to a Right to Information application, directed the government to disclose it in June 2016.
All this while, amendments to the notification – some with drafts and many without – continued. Amendments for the transfer of powers to state governments and to allow special structures in Mumbai seem to be directed at pleasing the states. Earlier this month, Union Environment Minister Harsh Vardhan substantiated this when he said policies on coastal regulation would be prepared in consultation with state governments. Time and again, the Centre has shown an inclination towards appeasing state governments while ignoring the coastal population and the general public.
The abuse of the phrase public interest that has been witnessed in the forming of coastal rules is perhaps taking place in other legislations too. Its exploitation not only weakens the concerned legislation, it slowly starts a trend where the public is bypassed and kept outside the arena of policy-making.
Meenakshi Kapoor and Krithika Dinesh are with the Centre for Policy Research-Namati Environmental Justice Program.
Name a well-known environmental organisation. The World Wildlife Fund? Sure, everyone knows the panda, it has royal support and we’ve all seen pictures of dead elephants with gaping wounds.
But as horrible as wildlife crime is, there’s one criminal activity ten times bigger than all other illegal wildlife crime combined. Try naming it, or any organisation that combats it.
Sand mining has no bleeding elephants – but it is the elephant in the room of environmental issues. Illegal sand mining has ten times more value than all wildlife crime.
Indeed, it’s bigger than all other environmental crimes combined, according to a study by Luis Fernando Ramadon, a mining crimes professor at the National Police Academy in Brazil.
Professor Ramadan told The Ecologist: “It’s an easy form of enrichment with less risk and costs than trafficking of drugs, humans or organs.” He adds that aside from being so profitable, “it is maybe also the most harmful to the environment”.
Asking Sumaira Abdulali how sand mining is harmful is like asking for a drizzle but receiving the full-blown Indian monsoon. “Soil erosion, landslides, water table loss, infertility of farmland, disturbances of ecosystems and marine life, beach disappearances, collapsing bridges…”.
One night in 2004, she had had enough of it. In what had become a nighttime routine, trucks came and went to the seafront near her house South from Mumbai. They stole the beach.
Abdulali called the police and drove to the beach. “Instead of rushing to the scene, the police tipped the illegal sand miners”, Abdulali told me.
As she waited in her car for the police to arrive, the men came from the beach, pulled her out of her car and assaulted her. “During the beating, one guy asked: ‘Do you know who I am?’ He was the son of a local politician, but also owner of a large construction company.” His father later became the state’s environment Minister.
Abdulali sued the sand mafia and won. But fighting the sand mafia is a risky affair. Sandhya Ravishankar, a Chennai based journalist, was threatened for her reports on Tamil Nadu’s sand mafia.
Despite a ban in 2013, beach sand mining for minerals remained a lucrative business in Tamil Nadu. At one point police raided 15 locations simultaneously, finding 455,245 ton of illegally mined beach minerals. The evidence suggests that almost a million tons has been exported since the ban has come into force.
Abdulali and Ravishankar are sand mafia challengers who survived. According to author and expert Vince Beiser, hundreds of people were killed over sand extraction, in India alone.
Contrary to our intuition, useful sand is scarce. Forget deserts. Desert winds make sand roll and therefore round. Edgy grains are needed for concrete, the main use of sand. Building booms have caused these sand mining booms – but there’s another reason why 75 to 90 percent of all beaches are disappearing.
Minerals such as rutile and ilmenite, found in beach sand, are in everything from titanium parts of consumer goods to paint to paper to plastics. India has 35 percent of all ilmenite. Going to Goa with sunscreen in your luggage? There is a good chance that the ilmenite in it came from a beach.
In Indonesia, Australia’s Indo Mines Limited is after the iron on one beach, which doubles as a barrier against salt intrusion from the ocean into coastal farms.
When they proposed a massive expanding to cover a 1.8km by 22km area – also the home of 20,000 people – the resistance went ballistic. Many community members were jailed and police brutalities left 41 people injured.
In The Gambia, an 11-year old boy fell to his death in one of the massive holes left behind by a sand mining firm, a hole they should have filled. The beach is now flooded, attracting crocodiles that attacked women who tend nearby gardens.
In this conflict, 45 people were arrested and sued. Zircon, the mineral mined here, was exporting to China. Aside from being sold as gemstone, sand is used to store nuclear waste.
Camila Rolando, a Barcelona based researcher, maps environmental conflicts in Western Africa for the EnvJustice project. “The conflict in The Gambia left an impression across the Senegalese border.
“The villages around the Niafrang dune try to prevent that a new beach mine opens there. They depend on rice growing, market gardening, fishing, oyster farming and tourism – all of which would be negatively affected.”
An armed rebel group in Senegal, the MFDC, is also against the proposed project. In reaction, the Senegalese government deployed extra military forces in the area. This is how sand wars can start.
Will you ever walk into a shop and ask for a pot of Tamil-Nadu-free-paint? No. And there’s no tropical beach logo for this. Waiting for enlightened CEOs is equally naive.
Only 15 percent of the world’s population lives in North America or Europe but they consume about 50 percent of all titanium dioxide – whose production lines creates conflicts everywhere but in North America or Europe.
The Atlas of Environmental justice has the details of nine local sand conflicts relating to ilmenite and rutile alone – all in the Global South. So what can we do?
Martinez-Alier argues that humanity needs to dig, produce and trade a factor less. In his jargon, digging in The Gambia for production in China and selling in the US is all part of the social metabolism of the global economy, like blood that flows through a body. Based on planetary boundaries data, he argues the global economy suffers from too high blood pressure.
Martinez-Alier said: “Those calling for green growth fail to understand that the inputs of energy and materials into the economy grow to unsustainable levels.
“Whether it is sand, fossil fuel or timber: most materials flow from impoverished to rich places, whether across the oceans or inside large countries like China or India. Local environmental conflicts are born from the opposition to this.”
However, Martinez-Alier adds: “When a success is achieved against some dirty local extraction, the knowledge of how to win is quickly reinforcing a global movement for environmental justice.” It seems that the multinationals are becoming ever more powerful, but so are the multinational anti-extraction coalitions.
Sand conflicts rage on all continents, but the conflict level is so granular that we fail to see them. Especially in poorer countries, communities increasingly find themselves battling on frontlines opened by unscrupulous companies and complicit local politicians.
These communities need all the support we can give them. And it is they who deserve the credit for trying to throw some sand in the already overheated machine that we know as the global, industrialised economy.
Nick Meynen is the project officer for global policies and sustainability at the European Environmental Bureau.
A guest blog on Scottish Environment Link by Glen Smith, a social science researcher and PhD candidate at UiT The Arctic University of Norway.
Diarmid Hearns is right to point to the importance of the Scottish planning system in determining how space is developed and, subsequently, how people live their lives (The Scotsman Opinion 18/01/2018). The National Trust for Scotland research findings that Mr Hearns discusses are indeed concerning. The sense of disconnect between citizens and a system that helps determine the use and non-use of space needs to be urgently addressed, as does the lack of trust in that system.
Much of the frustration towards the planning system stems from the limited opportunities for people to affect decision outcomes: around 60 per cent of those asked in the National Trust of Scotland survey felt this way. The planning system is plagued by instances of late or limited stakeholder engagement. Or, more worryingly, of no engagement at all.
It must be said that many Scottish people are pushing hard to right these wrongs. It remains a political hot topic, with some communities taking more direct action. Examples include the formation of Development Trusts or, in more radical cases, direct community land buyouts. Whilst it is true that any local ambitions to change land use patterns through these channels are still subjected to planning procedures, they are at least conceived through community-based committees. So the ‘step zero’ of planning can stem from local residents. But not all communities have the means to take such steps. Furthermore, they are a symptom of a problem, rather than a solution. Why would communities feel the need to take matters into their own hands? What is broken? How can we fix it? These are important questions.
Unfortunately, steps taken by the Scottish Government have done little to stop these questions being asked. The rhetoric is in place but the demonstrable impact is not. Communities might have taken centre stage in the most recent round of land reform, as indicated by the emerging Community Empowerment (Scotland) Act of 2015, but true participatory processes require a redistribution of power. That seems like a bridge too far for the Scottish Government. The new Planning Bill does not offer too much hope in this regard either. As pointed out by Planning Democracy SCIO, among others, the Planning Bill actually proposes to reduce the overall number of opportunities for community engagement in planning.
It is important that Scotland continues to push for a more democratic planning system. But I would like to suggest that the push be extended offshore to include marine spatial planning, especially for inshore waters. Scotland’s National Marine Plan is to be implemented in the Scottish Marine Regions where plans will be adapted to meet localised needs and demands. Some regions have already produced pretty comprehensive plans, although they took different routes to get there.
However, having studied the governance of marine spatial planning processes in Scotland for a number of years, it seems that as the system becomes institutionalised it is in danger of adopting some of the same failures from its terrestrial relative. Decisions made about the use or non-use of the seabed affect coastal communities. They can significantly change the social dynamics of coastal towns and villages as the necessary infrastructure and workforce are put in place to capitalise on ‘blue growth’ opportunities. Marine planning partnerships in the regions are designed to incorporate local opinions into decision making; but public input is not assured in most cases.
The challenges, laws and perceived relevance of marine and terrestrial planning differ considerably. But both need to be underpinned by the good governance principles of transparency and participation. The marine planning system is still in the making but it is never too early to ensure that such principles are built in. Diarmid Hearn talks of a great opportunity for “the Scottish Government and Scottish Parliament to get people back into planning and ensure their voice is heard”. I couldn’t agree more. But while we are here, let’s discuss the sea as well.
– Glen Smith is a social science researcher and PhD candidate at UiT The Arctic University of Norway. His work focuses on the governance of marine management in Scotland