Jammu and Kashmir: ‘It’s self-inflicted destruction’

For over three weeks, the National Highway (NH44) that connects the Kashmir Valley with the rest of India was closed.

The immediate cause? Heavy rains and flash floods that triggered multiple landslides, with a big one hitting Thard, Jakheni in Udhampur.

The underlying cause? Reckless development in an ecologically sensitive zone.

The prolonged closure couldn’t have come at a worse time. This is peak apple-harvesting season. Growers had just begun dispatching their goods to markets across the country when the link snapped.

From 26 August to 17 September, thousands of fruit-laden trucks were either stuck on the highway or parked in designated lots. As perishables rotted, losses mounted. The disruption not only crippled the movement of fruit trucks but also choked the entire supply chain, throwing growers, traders, transporters and ordinary people into deep distress.

Fayaz Ahmad Malik, president of Sopore Fruit Mandi — one of the largest fruit markets in Asia and the biggest in Kashmir, told this correspondent: “Based on our preliminary assessment, we believe the Valley’s fruit growers have incurred losses of between Rs 1,000 and Rs 1,200 crore. They are devastated, as the bulk of their produce was spoiled while waiting for the road to be reopened. Initial reports from the Delhi mandi indicate that most of the consignments contained rotten fruit. In many cases, traders have refused to bear the transportation costs for the damaged produce.”

NH44, carved through the treacherous Pir Panjal mountains, has long been a source of hardship — and even fatal accidents — for the people of Kashmir, especially during monsoons and harsh winters.

Always prone to disaster, the latest landslide is a stark reminder: unless road expansion and infrastructure projects are guided by scientific assessments and executed with environmental safeguards, the highway will remain a corridor of uncertainty — threatening lives and livelihoods.

National Herald spoke to Shubham Yadav, project director, National Highway Authority of India (NHAI). “This time, we lost a 300-metre stretch near Tharad in Udhampur. Days of non-stop rain caused the entire slope to give way. Rebuilding over the debris would’ve taken more than two months, but given how crucial this road is, we chose to create a diversion instead.

“It wasn’t easy. Light rain kept falling during construction, and our heavy machines kept getting stuck in the loose debris,” he said.

Launched in 2011, the NHAI’s four-laning project in Jammu and Kashmir covers around 270–300 km. Widening roads means clearing forests — tearing out root systems that anchor the soil, making landslides more likely. Tunnels disrupt natural drainage, speeding up erosion.

“Slopes along NH44 are collapsing,” says Prof. Ghulam Jeelani, who heads the department of earth and environmental sciences at Kashmir University. “Extensive cutting for roads, tunnels and other infrastructure has destabilised the mountains, triggering frequent landslides. It’s self-inflicted destruction.”

He elaborates: “Expanding roads isn’t just about bringing in earthmovers and building four- or eight-lane highways. Some areas can handle expansion; others can’t.

“Projects like these need expert consultation. A proper study could have guided the alignment and determined how much widening was safe at different points. Sadly, those steps were overlooked — and now we’re facing the consequences.”

Jeelani identifies another contributing factor: climate change, marked by increasingly frequent high-intensity rainfall. However, he believes manmade interventions are the primary cause of the recent landslides.

“These mountains are solid rock with a natural soil cover formed over thousands of years. This soil stays stable only if undisturbed; when disrupted by roadwork or tunnelling, it slips. Widening highways where it is not geologically feasible is madness.

“In addition to roads and tunnels, a large number of buildings — including houses and hotels — have been constructed, often at the mouth of catchment areas, aggravating the problem,” he adds.

Frequent closures have prompted the search for alternatives to ease pressure on NH44. The Mughal Road, reopened in 2010 after decades, links Shopian to Poonch and offers a backup route — but not for heavy commercial traffic, daily commutes or time-sensitive cargo like fruit.

While diversions may have temporarily restored traffic on NH44, they do little to address the deeper crisis of unstable slopes exacerbated by unchecked construction. The apple-growers’ plight is a stark reminder of the delicate balance between development and environmental sustainability in the Himalayan region.