The Union government’s seventh draft notification to declare 56,825.7 square kilometres of the Western Ghats across Gujarat, Maharashtra, Goa, Karnataka, Kerala and Tamil Nadu an Ecologically Sensitive Area (ESA) has reopened a contentious battle over conservation, land use and livelihoods.
Issued on July 27, 2026, under the Environment (Protection) Act, 1986, the notification proposes restrictions on mining, quarrying, sand mining, new thermal power projects, red-category industries and specified large construction and township projects.
It does not order the acquisition of private land, the eviction of residents or a blanket ban on farming. Yet, after six earlier drafts failed to produce a final notification, opposition from state governments has once again put the future of this protection framework in doubt.
Now, the 60-day period for objections has ended. Karnataka’s legislature has rejected the draft in its present form and sought time for physical surveys, while Kerala has asked the Centre to exclude inhabited areas, agricultural land and plantations. Maharashtra and Goa have also sought changes.
The expert committee examining the objections has been given an extension until July 2027. The immediate question is whether the Centre can resolve genuine mapping concerns without allowing political resistance and misleading claims to postpone protection indefinitely.
What the notification actually says
The draft’s principal restrictions concern activities with potentially serious environmental consequences. New mining, quarrying and sand mining are prohibited, with existing mines to be phased out within five years of the final notification or by the expiry of their leases, whichever comes first.
New thermal power projects and red-category industries are prohibited. Specified construction projects with a built-up area of 20,000 square metres or more, and townships meeting the prescribed area thresholds, are also prohibited. Existing residential buildings can be repaired and renovated.
These are significant restrictions, particularly for commercial activities that can generate substantial profits. But they are not equivalent to confiscating farmland or forcing farming families out of their homes.
Hydropower projects are not categorically prohibited, but are subject to environmental assessment and prescribed conditions, including maintaining a minimum uninterrupted river flow during the lean season.
Karnataka’s rejection and Kerala’s exclusions
Karnataka’s legislature unanimously rejected the seventh draft on September 22, seeking a year for physical surveys and a review of the proposed boundaries. Satellite-based mapping does not adequately distinguish forests from plantations, agricultural holdings, homes and public infrastructure, according to it. It has also raised questions about land grants, deemed forests and pending claims under the Forest Rights Act.
Kerala has sought to reduce its proposed ESA from 9,993.7 sq km to 8,590.69 sq km, excluding inhabited areas, agricultural land and plantations. Maharashtra and Goa have also sought exclusions, while Tamil Nadu has raised questions about boundaries and local land use.
The cumulative effect is troubling. If every state seeks to confine protection to areas where political opposition is weakest, the ecological continuity of the mountain system could be compromised. Forests, streams, slopes and wildlife corridors do not stop at administrative boundaries. Their protection requires a landscape-level approach rather than six separate exercises in political accommodation.
The vested interests behind the farmer narrative
The commercial stakes in this controversy should not be ignored. Quarrying, construction, tourism infrastructure and land development can be lucrative businesses. Restrictions affect these commercial opportunities, creating incentives to portray environmental regulation as an attack on ordinary people.
Alex Ozhukayil, chairman of the Kerala Independent Farmers Association, has argued that ESA restrictions could reduce land values. “These restrictions impact the value of our lands, and for farmers, our land is our wealth,” he told Down to Earth.
But land value cannot be the only measure of public interest in a mountain landscape. A farmer cultivating coffee or cardamom on private land is not in the same position as a commercial operator seeking to extract rock from a vulnerable hillside. The interests of traditional cultivators cannot automatically be equated with those of businesses seeking fewer restrictions on quarrying and construction.
The question is whether the ecological consequences of those activities justify regulation. Where they do, the interests of businesses cannot take precedence over the long-term security of communities and ecosystems.
N Badusha, president of the Wayanad Prakruthi Samrakshana Samithy, puts the purpose of the designation succinctly: “ESA does not mean evicting people; it means making their lives safer.”
Wayanad is a warning
The July 2024 Mundakkai-Chooralmala landslides in Wayanad killed hundreds and devastated settlements. The disaster cannot be attributed to a single cause, and an ESA notification alone would not have prevented it. But it exposed the consequences of living in a fragile mountain landscape without adequate attention to slope stability, drainage, rainfall and land-use risks.
The Western Ghats sustain major river systems, regulate water flows and support extraordinary biodiversity. Their forests and watersheds are vital to agriculture and drinking water supplies far beyond the mountains themselves. Mining, poorly planned construction, road cutting and habitat fragmentation can intensify environmental pressures. The cumulative impact of these activities matters as much as the footprint of an individual project.
A plantation, a village road and a quarry may occupy the same hillside, but their environmental impacts are different. So are the risks posed by repairing an existing house and constructing a large commercial development. Regulation must recognise these distinctions rather than treating the entire landscape as either untouchable wilderness or unrestricted development territory.
One mountain range, six political calculations
The controversy has deep roots. The Western Ghats Ecology Expert Panel led by Madhav Gadgil advocated extensive protection based on ecological sensitivity and decentralised decision-making. The subsequent high-level working group led by K Kasturirangan recommended a narrower approach focused on natural landscapes, identifying approximately 59,940 sq km for protection. Successive drafts have attempted to reconcile conservation priorities with objections from state governments. Seven attempts later, the basic framework remains unfinished.
The danger is that the process becomes an endless negotiation in which ecological protection is repeatedly diluted to accommodate political resistance. The opposite danger is a top-down framework that ignores the complexity of settled landscapes and leaves residents feeling that decisions about their homes and livelihoods are being made without them.
Neither outcome will produce durable conservation.
What happens next?
The expert committee’s extended tenure until July 2027 makes the coming months critical. The ministry must use this period to settle discrepancies in village boundaries, examine the states’ submissions and establish a clear basis for finalising the notification. State governments should cooperate with credible field surveys rather than use them to justify indefinite postponement. Residents must receive unambiguous information about what the final rules permit and prohibit.
The seventh draft should lead to a final, scientifically defensible notification, with genuine mapping errors corrected and misleading claims decisively answered. If protection is weakened through indiscriminate exclusions, the Western Ghats could lose the ecological continuity that gives the exercise its purpose. If the process ignores local realities, it will deepen mistrust and resistance.