A series of severe floods ravaged Kerala in July and August 2018, thanks chiefly to unusually high rainfall. Considered to be the worst disaster in the state in nearly a century, one-sixth of the total population was directly affected by the disaster. It received about 256% excess rainfall in the second week of August alone, and 35 of Kerala’s 54 dams that had been overflowing had to be opened all at once, exacerbating an already dangerous situation to the level of a great calamity.
That the state government did not have a standard protocol for the operation of dams became evident from the manner in which the flood gates were opened. The mountainous parts of the state witnessed widespread landslides and slope failures resulting in many deaths and damage to property. The distress seems to be continuing even after the floods in the form of an unusual lowering of water level in the rivers, and wells drying up and caving. Slow slips seem to be continuing to happen in some hilly locations where landslides had occurred.
While the incidence of extreme rain events in India is on the rise, with further intensification expected by the end of the century, observations also indicate an overall decline in mean rainfall levels due to weakening monsoon circulation, increasing frequency of El Niño events and accelerating air pollution and land-use changes.
This juxtaposition of increased frequency of extreme rainfall events and overall decrease in mean rainfall suggests that alternating spells of flood and drought are going to be a fixture of the Indian subcontinent’s future. And because of its geographical location within this system, Kerala has to bear the full brunt of these changes as the climate is likely to see-saw between these extremes.
The floods were also a study in how a climatic phenomenon spiralled into a tremendous environmental disaster. Nature in its destructiveness did not discriminate between mansions, even if they were made of imported marble, and the hutments of the poor. In the exclamations that were heard on social media videos from those witnessing the slow slide of large houses down slopes, followed by complete silence as the structures disappeared beneath piles of debris, one could sense the end of a dream – the opulence of the Gulf-returned nouveau riche Malayalis. The flood also washed away all the hierarchical barriers of caste and religion, with the people forced to rediscover a sense of community, assistance and accommodation – together typifying the sort of social character the state lost sometime in the late 1960s.
Has Kerala learned anything from this unprecedented disaster? Considering such extreme climatic events are expected to recur, it behooves society to improve its readiness in the face of future calamities. The silver lining seems to be that the post-flood Kerala is witnessing a healthy debate on how to rebuild the state, that too following a sustainable growth trajectory and maintaining an environmentally healthy landscape that allows for the unhindered flow of rivers.
Alternate ‘degrowth’ options
Over the last several decades, and mostly as a result of the increasing population density, environmental changes have been so pronounced in Kerala as to have magnified the effects of the floods. The rivers, including whole water systems and forests, have been increasingly impacted by dams built for irrigation as well as hydroelectric purposes without respecting the ecological sensitivity of the Western Ghats. Traditional industrial units and their attendant investments have contributed to the pollution of water and air.
The exponential growth of real estate in Kerala not only forced the conventional agricultural sector to regress, it also led to anthropogenic activities interfering with vulnerable ecosystems. Unregulated construction, especially after the Gulf boom, also led to more quarrying and mining of river sand, resulting in land reclamation that caused the wetlands and paddy fields to disappear. As a result, the Kerala known for its varied ecosystems and biological diversity gradually turned itself into the Kerala of large, unitary metropolises divorced from nature. The most affected communities in this transition were, and are, forest and coastal dwellers, whose livelihoods depend on the sustenance of their respective ecosystems. The spread of rare, communicable diseases recently reported in the state also need to be taken as a signal warning of degrading natural systems.
In the post-flood context, we also hear a lot about rebuilding Kerala, but there is a lack of serious discussion on what sort of developmental model the state should aspire to, particularly against the backdrop of global climatic and ecological changes. Although Kerala on its own cannot be a major player in the mitigation of climate change, it can do a lot to reduce its impact locally. The state has to think seriously about how its water bodies can be saved from further encroachment and pollution. The wetlands, by the way, are excellent carbon storage centres and help reduce the amount of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere.
Equally importantly, Kerala has to evolve scientific conservation methods to protect the forests and biodiversity in the Western Ghats, which is subjected to encroachments mostly mediated through political networks. That a lot of the recent controversies and scandals in the state have been centred on the legalities of settlements in hilly regions itself belies the seriousness of this problem. The political parties of Kerala have let themselves be manipulated by various business interests in rejecting the Gadgil Committee’s recommendations, which provided a clear and scientific roadmap to preserve the stability of, and promote ecosystem services in, the Western Ghats.
Because such floods could recur, the state will have to develop more efficient warning and alert systems. Surprisingly, despite having a set of government-funded scientific institutes, the state did not proper flood-maps that could have helped send more accurate alerts to the people. Equally worrisome is the fact that very little scientific data is being collected on various phenomena that occurred during and right after the flood. Finally, it is also a fact that the dams in Kerala, like elsewhere in India, do not have rule curves – the operating criteria, guidelines and specifications that govern the storage and release functions of a reservoir and which would be particularly useful during flood conditions.
Overall, and all things considered, the disaster should be a clarion call that any developmental models the state adopts here on out must to take the vagaries of the climate, which have become the new norm, into account, as well as strive to make human progress without triggering ecological disaster. This has to accompany the implementation of an advanced environmental protection system through the development of non-polluting industries, adoption of alternate energy sources, waste recycling, sustainable agricultural practices and a strong ecotourism industry supported by innovative legislation, and linking conservation and reforestation. Such alternate “degrowth” options have to be considered more closely in the quest for the post-flood reconstruction of a new Kerala that has an opportunity to set a new example for India.
C.P. Rajendran is a professor of geodynamics at the Jawaharlal Nehru Centre for Advanced Scientific Research, Bengaluru.