Lesson for those who harp on mindless development

Disasters claim lives but they don’t kill fond myths. In flood-ravaged Uttarakhand, the myth that dead bodies are a huge health risk persists. Mass cremation of dead bodies is going on because the “authorities are racing against time to minimise risks of an epidemic outbreak”, a news report tells us. Are dead bodies responsible for disease outbreaks? The answer is a vehement ‘no’, say a group of public-spirited doctors who have banded together under the banner of Doctors for You (DFY) and who are providing medical relief in the hill state.

Their arguments are strengthened by what institutions like the World Health Organization and the International Committee of the Red Cross say. In various public statements, both agencies have stressed that contrary to popular belief, the bodies of people who have died in a natural disaster do not cause epidemics.

In a disaster, people mostly die as a result of injury, drowning or fire. They are unlikely to have had epidemic-causing diseases such as cholera, typhoid or plague when they died. In most cases, it is the survivors who are likely to be spreading diseases. Epidemics do not occur spontaneously after a natural disaster so the key to preventing disease is to improve sanitary conditions and educate the public. No doubt, there is a small risk of diarrhoea from drinking water contaminated by faecal material from bodies. But routine disinfection of drinking water is sufficient to deal with the likelihood of such water-borne diseases. However, such is the staying power of myths that the doctors’ efforts to clear the air have had little success.

But it is vital to sift myths from realities to prevent precious resources and energy from being frittered away as the sheer scale of the disaster sinks in, and slowly but inevitably, the state moves towards the next stage — of rehabilitation and rebuilding.

India is one of the ten most disaster prone countries in the world. That cannot be wished away. But a lot can be done to minimise damages. It is important to recognise that there are three parts to the disaster narrative: disaster risk reduction, rescue and relief and post-disaster planning. While it is imperative to keep the spotlight on the rescue and relief missions, we cannot afford to ignore the other two equally important aspects.  

Here are a few suggestions. We need to also bust the myth that every environmentalist is a trouble-maker and is against ‘development’.

Environmentalists do not have a monopoly on truth. And environmental concerns have to be often balanced against benefits accruing from infrastructure projects. But when the very idea of environmental clearances is demonised by the powerful as the new “licence-permit-quota raj” we have to worry.

Flash floods in Uttarakhand as in many Himalayan hill states are not uncommon. They were perhaps inevitable, given the amount it rained this mid-June. But their strength was multiplied by at least one glacial lake outburst. And remember, glacial lakes are a consequence of global warming.

On top of that, the damage the floods wreaked was worsened many times by ill-planned development. “How did the floods cause so much havoc, and why have landslides hit almost all roads in the region? The answer lies in ill-planned or unplanned development, specifically in three areas — road construction, building construction and mining in the riverbeds,” noted a report in The Third Pole, an online forum for information and discussion on the environmental and climate crises in the Himalayan region.

To add to those three, there are the hydropower projects. No one can contest that Uttarakhand needs energy for economic activity and that water is its natural wealth. But the way hydropower projects have been planned in Uttarakhand — and indeed all over the Himalayas — is a crucial issue. Currently, there are approximately 70 such projects built or proposed on various tributaries of the Ganga. As environmentalists like Sunita Narain have been pointing out, these projects are being built bumper to bumper. Where one project ends, another begins. This risks the course of the river being modified to such an extent that 80 per cent of the Bhagirathi and 65 per cent of the Alaknanda could be “affected”.

Inevitably, construction at this scale has led to large-scale blasting of mountains to build tunnels and barrages. The cumulative effect: collapse of mountains, landslides blocking rivers and so on. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

Coming back to the health front, it is high time to face facts. Religious tourism may be one of the mainstays of Uttarakhand’s economy but it needs regulation, though the word is anathema to many. Ravikant Singh, who is leading the DFY team at Uttarakhand and who has experience working in disaster zones, says medical checks should be made mandatory for pilgrims as in the case of the Amarnath yatra. And doctors have to be available at health posts in the upper reaches of Himalayas if pilgrims are allowed there.

Disasters not only destroy individuals and families, they disrupt lives of entire communities. Disasters often decimate development initiatives. But they can also create opportunities. Rebuilding after a disaster allows policymakers to start development programmes that are compatible with the local ecosystem. India has all the necessary laws and guidelines. The National Mission for Sustaining the Himalayan Ecosystem tells you how to build a road in the mountains without affecting the natural water channels, so that landslide possibilities are minimised.

The National Disaster Management Authority tells you how to build a house in an area prone to floods, landslides and earthquakes. In every state, the environment department warns against indiscriminate mining in the riverbeds, because that increases the chances of boulders being rolled down during a flood.

But the rules are ignored. India cannot afford to be permanently on recommendation-mode. The recommendations must be turned into reality.

The author is a Delhi-based writer.