Hinduism has always stressed upon the oneness of mankind with other life forms. Yet, Indian society has largely failed to uphold the moral tenets of conservation and respect for nature. It must now look inward and reclaim the ecological roots of its spiritual belief systems
In September 1986, the World Wide Fund for Nature celebrated its 25th anniversary by bringing together representatives and leaders from major world religions to meet in the Italian town of Assisi, and discuss how their faiths were linked with the natural world and its conservation. The event resulted in what were called the Assisi declarations, which showed that all major faiths involved some kind of a spiritual relationship with nature, and called upon devotees to fulfil the sacred duty to care for it. The Hindu statement therein stressed upon the oneness of mankind with other life forms and the natural world at large, making a strong suggestion in saying that “Nature cannot be destroyed without humanity destroying itself.”
In some shape or form, environmental stewardship has always been a part of the social and cultural fabric that accompanied spirituality in India. Plants, trees, and rivers were personified and worshipped and insult or abuse of nature was considered a sacrilegious act. Even Carvaka, an atheist system of Indian philosophy which critiqued and rejected the divine authority of the Vedas, considered elements such as air, earth, and water, as important factors in regulating the lives of humans, flora, and fauna.
This phenomenon wasn’t just spiritual or cultural, but also deeply pragmatic. River Ganga, which has immense religious significance, and a dip in whose purifying waters are believed to cleanse one of all sins, has always hadconsiderable social and economic value as well. A source of irrigation and fertility for an agrarian people, the river basin still accounts for 26 per cent of India’s landmass, 30 per cent of its water resources and more than 40 per cent of its population.
Indian environmentalism was thus an acknowledgement of our dependence on nature for survival, a sentiment which has persisted in our communities for several millennia. The Bishnois, for example, have been living in ecological harmony since the 15th century, placing protection and conservation of biodiversity central to the 29 tenets that define the sect, principles which they stand up to until today.
When a group of Himalayan peasants hugged trees to protect them from loggers some four decades ago, it was this sense of social justice and sustainability that motivated them. This understanding of the necessity to protect natural resources from exploitation, though borne out of a tradition, had a very real and practical impetus of meeting the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs.
It is surprising then, that even though religion has mostly survived this journey of millennia, and is frequently invoked in our public dialogue, Indian society has largely failed to uphold the moral tenets of conservation and respect for nature. Natural resource conflicts are the order of the day, from forests and grazing lands to unregulated mining. Industrial development has continued to wreak havoc on the environment and the local communities are dependent on it.
And the pure and purifying Ganga is now impossible to describe without the use of adjectives depicting various forms of filth and disgust. As it stands today, it’s less of a river, and more of a lazily moving cesspool of excrement, industrial effluent, human corpses, and animal carcasses. The nearly three billion litres of sewage flowing into the water daily has made it beyond dirty: It’s toxic. While afecal coliform count of over fifty, five hundred, and five thousand per 100 millilitres of water is considered unsafe for drinking, bathing, and agricultural use respectively, Ganga’s average count stands at a deadly one-two million per 100 millilitres of water as it exits Varanasi.
And this somehow fails to raise our furore and escapes the national conscience. Our attempts and struggles with ecological protection border the surreal. The Kumbh Mela, the Hindu religious festival whose attendance now touches nine digit-numbers, often invoking colourful synonyms for “sea of humanity” by the international media, is also consistently lacking in sanitary provisions, and has been an enormous contributor to the mounds of filth killing the river it is supposed to celebrate.
However, hope springs eternal. Cleaning and rejuvenation of the Ganga is Prime Minister (and Varanasi MP) Narendra Modi’s pet project, and despite struggles with restructuring of the National Ganga River Basin Authority, and a rebuking by the Supreme Court, there is immense promise. A realistic timeline of 18 years has been drawn, and programmes for improving waste water treatment and solid waste management infrastructure in 118 towns have been announced. Similarly, schemes for averting open defection and industrial discharge are also expected to improve the state of our rivers and the surrounding ecosystems.
This sentiment of sustainability in spirituality was also suggested in the Prime Minister’s recent address at the United Nations General Assembly, where he stressed that “development, prosperity and well-being” can be achieved “without necessarily going down the path of reckless consumption,” and spoke about changing the ‘character’ of the economy. He later reiterated his support for conservative consumption, saying that “Energy not consumed is the cleanest energy.” Quoting him further: “For us in India, respect for nature is an integral part of spiritualism. We treat nature’s bounties as sacred.”
Mr Modi then went on to discuss yoga as an embodiment of the harmony between man and nature, and called upon a change in our lifestyle and consciousness, to deal with challenges of sustainability and climate change.
Mr Modi has since followed up on this call by launching the Swachch Bharat campaign, and raising awareness around the central message of Clean India and living in harmony with one’s surroundings.
This is just a beginning, and we are yet to see how the environmental basket-case that our country has become will deal with its challenges of sustainability. It is time for us to look inward and successfully reclaim the ecological roots of our spiritual belief systems. We have fought for generations in our bid to assert an identity to the creator; now is the time we must start caring for the creation.
(The writer is a Delhi-based global development practitioner. He runs the Sustainable Growth Initiative)