The Char Dham warning: Climate resilience must begin with the locals

The recent devastating visuals from the Dharali and Harshil valleys call for an immediate impact assessment and urgent investment in climate-resilient infrastructure. As one of the first pilgrims to embark on the Char Dham Yatra this year, I share a few ground realities that seem to have been taken for granted. 

In the early days of the yatra, the Uttarakhand government introduced a token system to register every visitor. Irrespective of who was organising the tour, each individual had to register using their Aadhar number, providing full itinerary details as well as the mode of transport. This ensured that toll-like booths were set up well before entry points to each dham, where tokens could be conveniently scanned. It was an effective mechanism for crowd management while also generating valuable big data about tourist profiles.

However, as the weeks passed, the system appears not to have been taken seriously, owing to a range of factors. In the initial weeks of the yatra -- when locals and domestic tourists constituted about 40 per cent of the total pilgrims and visitors making the journey between April 30 and October 23 – the state government was compelled to mobilise resources. Young college students were deployed to man registration booths, and extra police personnel were brought from distant regions. On our own journey, we often gave travellers a ride, including police personnel posted temporarily in the Char Dham circuit. We also helped locals transit short distances, as they held in their handwoven baskets their household or village deities. I still recall the young woman, Hema, who sat quietly by the Anand Bhairav temple in Bhairo Ghat. 

Gangotri stands at a higher elevation compared to the other dhams. The second dham (moving clockwise and from west to east), as part of the Char Dham Yatra, greets you with her white, sparkling, bubbling energy. Scientists studying how glaciers and geology affect land masses, the flow of rivers and migratory patterns have long provided data about the receding glaciers here. 

Harshil, often called the Switzerland of the region, basks in the glory of the majestic ranges and the River Bhagirathi flowing through the town. It is one of the last towns before the Chinese border. Geographically, this region holds importance as the birthplace of the mighty Ganga that feeds and nourishes the plains below and for the defence infrastructure installations due to the proximity to the China border. 

The growth of the Char Dham circuit has grown in leaps and bounds over the years. In 2007, I remember my journey vividly to the Valley of Flowers, Hemkund, and Badrinath. Going back after 18 years felt like driving into the Himalayas without the bumpy pothole-ridden roads, with better buses and a number of food options to choose from along the route. I couldn’t help but compare this to the roads leading up to Mt Cook in the Southern Island of New Zealand and Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado (similar altitude of 13,000 feet) – accessible, motorable, yet the sheer numbers of buses and people are two-fold.

This puts significant pressure on the local economies; hence, when a climate extreme event strikes, it is the locals that are most impacted. The night that we halted in Gangotri, we received an alert from the NDMA: “Heavy rainfall in the Uttarkashi region. Please follow all precautions and stay alert.” Of course, the locals shrugged it off, saying this was the season for rains, yet we braced up for the unforeseen future, informing family back home, charging mobiles in case of power outages and stocking up on food and water. That morning, the weather seemed fine, and as we rode back towards Uttarkashi, we were stopped by a friendly police person at Bhairo Ghat to request a ride for a young lady who stayed at Dharali en route. We opened the door of the vehicle to let Hema in, and she smiled at us. We waved back enthusiastically to Hema as she alighted to head to her village, keeping her basket close to her under her woollen shawl. We hope her gods have kept her safe. 

Local knowledge systems, their beliefs and their acumen about climate extremities must be used to act as catalysts for preparedness in such situations. Corporates and governments invest in building adaptation mechanisms, yet climate resilience calls for working with local communities in helping shift the power to make them equally responsible to advocate for issues that could inevitably come in the way of coping with climate extremities. Rampant real estate development, for example, very close to the course of the river, should be strictly banned on all accounts. Heavy fines should be levied, and locals should have a say should outside-the-state entities or large conglomerates like hospitality chains choose to develop large-scale properties in the region. The Himalayas are young, moving mountain chains; the rivers that originate from here constantly change the course of their direction, yet humans claim to be permanent beings in this grand scheme of things by building concrete structures that will crumble like a pack of cards when nature’s fury is unravelled. 

(The writer is a climate communication speaker and course director while serving as an expert committee advisor on building climate curriculums in a range of educational institutes)