Dhirauli on the Line: Rushed Mining, Weak Process, Overlooked Rights Threaten Adivasi Lives and Forests

The Dhirauli coal block in Singrauli—3,500 acres of forest slated for diversion—has become a crucible for India’s clash between extraction, environment and constitutional rights. What hangs in the balance is not just coal but the livelihood, self-governance and cultural survival of Adivasi families who draw food, fuel, medicine and identity from these forests.

Congress leader Jairam Ramesh alleges the project is moving without mandatory Stage-II forest clearance and without Gram Sabha consent under the Forest Rights Act (FRA), 2006, and the Panchayats (Extension to Scheduled Areas) Act (PESA), 1996. If true, it exposes the chronic weakness of India’s project-approval machinery and raises the question: whose interests come first?

The legal stakes are clear. FRA demands recognition and vesting of both individual and community forest rights before any diversion. PESA and the Fifth Schedule require Gram Sabha consultation wherever traditional governance is protected. Should Dhirauli fall within a Fifth Schedule area—as Ramesh claims—the Constitution mandates a far stronger, participatory decision-making process. Skipping Stage-II clearance or bypassing Gram Sabha consent is not a minor lapse; it is a denial of constitutionally guaranteed rights.

The human and ecological costs are no less stark. Eight villages stand directly in the project’s path; at least three more rely on the same forest commons. These communities survive on a fragile mix of subsistence farming and non-timber forest produce—mahua flowers, tendu leaves, medicinal plants, firewood. Even modest loss of access can tip households into deeper poverty, malnutrition and distress migration. Decades of development studies show that displacement from forest commons triggers a predictable cascade: falling seasonal incomes, poorer nutrition, rising dependence on precarious wage labour, and fraying social capital.

Environmentally, clearing 3,500 acres in an already stressed Singrauli landscape is reckless. Compensatory plantations rarely replicate the biodiversity, groundwater recharge and livelihood value of natural forests. Monoculture saplings cannot replace the complexity or cultural significance of indigenous woods. “Trees elsewhere” is a poor trade for a living forest.

Equally troubling is the charge that a 2019 allotment is being hurried through in 2025. Decisions with intergenerational consequences taken behind closed doors invite litigation, delay and escalating costs—social as well as financial. GDP gains from quick extraction rarely account for the long tail of grievance and instability.

Three systemic failures stand out. One, an uneven application of law: if FRA rights remain unrecognised, the project cannot legally proceed. Two, Gram Sabha consultations—if perfunctory—mock the very spirit of PESA and FRA, both designed to decentralise power. Three, environmental assessments that ignore cumulative impacts in a mining-heavy region like Singrauli are simply inadequate.

There are obvious remedies. Order an independent, transparent audit of land status, FRA recognition and PESA-mandated Gram Sabha records, and pause approvals until compliance is complete. Ensure genuine, verifiable Free, Prior and Informed Consent with independent observers and legal aid for vulnerable families. Where displacement is unavoidable, rehabilitation must guarantee no net loss of livelihood—secure alternative commons, robust employment guarantees and long-term ecological restoration co-designed with affected communities. And mandate basin-level ecological accounting for every mining expansion.

The Dhirauli flashpoint reflects a deeper tension in India’s development model: the state’s urge for rapid resource extraction versus its constitutional promise of dignity and democratic participation for indigenous citizens. Treating rights and rigorous environmental scrutiny as “obstacles” corrodes the social licence that any project needs to endure.

Ultimately, Dhirauli is more than a fight over 3,500 acres of forest. It is a test of whether India’s legal architecture to protect Adivasi rights and ecological commons is robust or merely ornamental. Upholding the Forest Rights Act and PESA is not anti-development. It is development governed by law, fairness and foresight. Anything less is short-term gain at a long-term cost to the very communities that have stewarded these forests for generations.