Not just water, it’s debris that is drowning Himachal Pradesh

For the third consecutive year, Himachal Pradesh finds itself reeling under the fury of the monsoon. Here’s something that often gets missed: one striking commonality in rain-induced tragedies in the past three consecutive years has been the dominance of the flow of debris. It is not just water but massive volumes of muck, boulders, tree trunks and landslide material that are sweeping away roads, homes, bridges, villages and entire markets when all of it comes crashing down with the rainwater.

The increasing frequency and intensity of these deluges can be attributed to climate change but that’s just the trigger. Forest degradation, destabilised slopes and unchecked accumulation of loose debris have become the norm. These are not isolated issues — they are symptoms of a deeper ecological crisis in Himachal’s mountain ecosystems.

In July 2023, a cloudburst in the catchment above Thunag unleashed a deluge of mud, boulders, and logs that smashed into the town, destroying shops, houses and livestock sheds. A Public Interest Litigation (PIL) was filed in the Himachal High Court alleging illegal felling and unauthorised road construction in dense forest areas near Thunag.

In response, the court set up a committee to investigate. The Divisional Forest Officer claimed the debris resulted from natural landslides and denied any illegal dumping or logging. If the slopes were known to be landslide-prone, why were no preventive measures taken? And again, in June 30, 2025, another cloudburst more intense than the last hit the same area. Once again, the Thunag market was submerged under a bigger pile of muck and rubble, debilitating infrastructure and taking lives. Had the 2023 disaster been properly studied and loose debris and unstable slopes identified and treated, the destruction in 2025 might have been avoided or reduced.

This pattern isn’t limited to just one region it’s visible across the state. One critical question we need to ask is this: for large hydropower projects, it is mandatory to implement a Catchment Area Treatment (CAT) plan. A fixed percentage of the total project cost is supposed to go toward protecting and restoring the catchment area to reduce siltation. This includes afforestation, slope stabilisation, soil conservation and other ecological measures. But if these CAT plans were actually implemented effectively, how did we still see such large-scale destruction in areas like Malana and the Sainj valley?

Unfortunately, we don’t have a system to track this. After every flood, the focus is only on damage reports and compensation. Rarely do we ask: where did this debris come from? Which slope failed? What can we do to stop this from happening again? Without asking these questions, we are just reacting, never preventing.

Geologically unstable slopes, inadequately planned hydel projects and road development often carried out without proper slope stabilisation or scientific muck disposal practices have destabilised the terrain. Unregulated mining, indiscriminate tree felling and the diversion of natural streams have further weakened the hill ecosystem. Under such compromised conditions, the arrival of intense monsoon rains is sufficient to trigger large-scale destruction.

Post-disaster assessments are essential—not just to understand what went wrong, but to prevent future damage. Different causes of landslides — such as glacial deposits versus road-cutting — require different mitigation strategies. If we can identify catchments with unstable debris, we can prioritise slope treatment, debris clearance, and mark high-risk zones where construction can be regulated.

Currently, floodplain mapping remains inadequate and residential areas continue to be built in vulnerable zones. Our monitoring systems are limited — focused mainly on rainfall, with little data on sediment loads or debris flows in fragile streams.

This must change. We need detailed watershed-level assessments to identify weak slopes, high erosion zones, and rivers prone to carrying heavy debris. These efforts require coordination among scientists, forest departments, and disaster authorities. Equally important is local knowledge. Communities observe early warning signs — cracks in slopes, new springs or thinning forests. Their insights must inform disaster planning. Gram Sabhas should be engaged in slope monitoring and forest protection. Strengthening community involvement alongside scientific planning is key to making Himachal’s hills safer and more resilient.

Right now, the focus must be on relief. Once the immediate crisis passes, Himachal must shift focus to proactive planning. Because unless we start planning and monitoring development activities at the watershed level, it will be very hard to even understand what’s happening in our catchments — let alone fix it. Without this, we won’t know where the risks lie or what measures could actually reduce the impact of future disasters. Every watershed behaves differently depending on its geology, vegetation, land use and slope stability. So, the state must focus on catchment health from head-to-toe as the foundation of flood resilience.

We cannot control the rain, but we can shape how our hills respond to it. A well-managed, forested slope absorbs and slows down the runoff; a degraded, overbuilt hillside collapses under pressure. That could mean the difference between a manageable flood and a catastrophic deluge.

The science is clear and the warning signs are visible. What remains uncertain is whether our policies and planning will catch up in time. Because if we fail to act now, the next monsoon will not just repeat the damage—it will escalate it. And the cost will be higher each time.

Prakash Bhandari is co-founder of an environment-based collective Himdhara.

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