“The Western Ghats are naturally an important focus of sustainable development efforts. The protector of the Indian peninsula, the mother of the Godavari, Krishna, Netravathi, Kaveri, Kunthi, Vaigai and a myriad other rivers, Kalidasa likens the Western Ghats to a charming maiden; Agasthyamalai is her head, Anaimalai and Nilgiri the breasts, her hips the broad ranges of Kanara and Goa, her legs the northern Sahyadri. Once the lady was adorned by a sari of rich green hues; today her mantle lies in shreds and tatters. It has been torn asunder by the greed of the elite and gnawed at by the poor, striving to eke out a subsistence. This is a great tragedy, for this hill range is the backbone of the ecology and economy of south India.”
Even in his final years, as age and illness weighed on him, Gadgil continued to speak, write, and argue for the Ghats. Often unheard, sometimes ridiculed, and frequently dismissed as “anti-development,” he persisted with quiet resolve. At a time when rapid infrastructure expansion had become synonymous with progress, his voice sounded inconvenient. Yet his concern was simple and unwavering: development should not mean disaster, and growth should never come at the cost of the poor or the environment that sustains them.
Gadgil helped shape landmark environmental legislation; devoted his entire life to protecting the “lady adorned by a sari of rich green hues.” For him, conservation was not about locking forests away from people. It was about recognizing communities as custodians of nature, not obstacles to development.
In 2010, the Union government appointed him head of the Western Ghats Ecology Expert Panel, later known as the Gadgil Commission. The panel’s report called for stringent environmental safeguards in ecologically sensitive zones of the Western Ghats. Rooted in scientific evidence and fieldwork, it recommended decentralized decision-making and community participation. The report triggered intense political resistance and public debate across six States. Yet, despite the urgency of its warnings, no government fully supported its implementation.
Internationally, Gadgil’s work earned him admiration. In 2024, he was named a laureate of the United Nations Environment Program’s Champions of the Earth award, which is the UN’s highest environmental honors — recognizing his lifetime contribution to ecological science and community-led conservation. He was one of the six laureates that year. At home, however, he lived an increasingly isolated life, as a new era of development emerged in which his ideas and his report were seen as impediments rather than guidance.
Among his most enduring contributions was the establishment of the India’s first biosphere — Nilgiri Biosphere Reserve in 1986. His work there was not confined to data and maps. He trekked through the forests, lived among communities, and studied the sacred groves, believing that ecological knowledge resided as much in local traditions as in laboratories. Gadgil was deeply critical of both extractive development and authoritarian conservation.
With Gadgil’s death, India has lost a rare voice, one that argued relentlessly that environmental protection and development are not opposing goals. For him, true development was rooted in scientific rigor, ethical responsibility, and social justice, with local communities at the center of natural resource management.
The green sari he mourned decades ago continues to fray. The question he leaves behind is stark and unresolved: will India finally listen or will the silence around the Western Ghats grow as deep as the forests he fought to protect. First published in the HinduBusiness Line by Radheshyam Jadhav on January 08, 2026.
