On the Brink

On this International Day for Biological Diversity 2025, observed on 22 May, themed Harmony with Nature and Sustainable Development, we are compelled to reflect on a bitter irony: nowhere is this harmony more threatened than in the very lap of nature—the Indian Himalayas, especially Sikkim. This tiny northeastern state, often lauded as an ecological paradise and India's first fully organic state, is now confronting an unsettling truth: biodiversity is vanishing, silently but swiftly.

Despite its size, Sikkim sits at the intersection of four global biodiversity hotspots. Its rich flora and fauna, including rare orchids, red pandas, and alpine meadows, are more than nature’s ornaments—they are the very foundation of life and livelihood. The local communities, particularly in rural and indigenous regions, depend heavily on the fragile web of ecosystems for food, medicine, water, and cultural identity.

But that web is unraveling.

Human activity—ironically, often in the name of development—is the culprit. Unchecked hydropower projects blasting through mountains, rampant road construction ignoring ecological sensitivity, monoculture farming, and rising tourism are fragmenting habitats and displacing native species. The October 2023 Teesta dam disaster, which killed scores and wiped out villages, serves as a stark reminder that disrupting ecosystems has brutal consequences, not just for plants and animals, but for human lives.

This year’s theme linking biodiversity to the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) is not just apt; it’s urgent. Goal 15—Life on Land—calls for halting biodiversity loss. But progress in the Indian Himalayas, including Sikkim, has been lukewarm. Policymakers have often adopted a “green washing” approach, flaunting plantation drives and organic certification while ignoring the systemic degradation caused by large infrastructure projects.

We must reject the false binary of development versus conservation. True sustainable development means listening to the rhythms of nature, not forcing it into submission. It means strengthening local governance, implementing ecologically informed planning, and ensuring that environmental impact assessments are not reduced to rubber-stamp formalities. Most importantly, it requires placing indigenous knowledge and community rights at the centre of conservation strategies.

As the UN reminds us, biodiversity is the bedrock of human health and survival—80% of our food comes from plants, and millions rely on traditional medicine derived from wild species. Losing this heritage will not be just an environmental tragedy, it will be a humanitarian one.

The Himalayas don’t need our pity, they need our protection, and they need it now.