Hidden Cost of Conservation: In Pakistan, initiatives labeled as environmental conservation and green development are increasingly being used to justify the displacement of indigenous and working-class communities. Regions like Gilgit-Baltistan and the Cholistan Desert have become focal points where state-backed projects, often involving military and corporate interests, have led to evictions and land seizures — all under the pretense of ecological preservation. But here lies the deeper question: if these efforts are truly about preservation, then why are the very people born of the land — who have lived in harmony with it for generations — being pushed out of it? Shouldn’t they be the ones protected, uplifted, or at the very least, included in the conversation?
Why are those most deeply tied to the land excluded from its so-called protection? If sustainability is the goal, why are those who have sustained these ecosystems for centuries now treated as expendable? Instead of equipping them to face the modern challenges of conservation, they are being erased from the landscape they’ve long called home — as though their existence contradicts the state’s vision of a “green” future. This is not preservation; it’s displacement under a different name.
Cholistan: Corporate Farming and the Marginalization of Locals
The Cholistan Desert is the home to semi-nomadic communities for generations, it has witnessed significant upheaval due to state-led initiatives. In 2023, the Punjab government leased approximately 700,000 acres of land to M/S Green Corporate Initiative Pvt. Ltd. for 20 years, with an optional 10-year extension, under the Green Pakistan Initiative. This move, intended to promote corporate farming, has been criticized for lacking transparency and for sidelining local communities who have historically depended on this land for their livelihoods. Despite promises of land allotments to local farmers, many remain without possession of their designated plots. Simultaneously, vast tracts have been allocated to influential groups, including the military and foreign investors. The Human Rights Commission of Pakistan reported that the Cholistan Development Authority allocated 74,000 acres to the military, though locals claim the figure is closer to 400,000 acres. Additionally, land has been granted to foreign entities, including the Prince of Abu Dhabi and Chinese investors.
The construction of canal systems to irrigate 1.2 million acres of arid land threatens to displace indigenous communities further, as fertile areas are allocated to corporate groups, pushing locals to less hospitable regions. This approach mirrors colonial-era policies that prioritized elite interests over those of local populations.
Gilgit-Baltistan: Conservation or Occupation?
In Gilgit-Baltistan, the establishment of national parks has raised concerns among local communities. Over 52% of the region’s land has been designated as protected areas, often without consulting the indigenous populations who have managed these lands through customary practices for centuries. The creation of parks like the Himalaya National Park and Nanga Parbat National Park has been criticized for disregarding local rights and for potentially serving as a means for the state to assert greater control over the region.
Furthermore, the leasing of 37 rest houses and forest sites to Green Tourism Pvt. Ltd., a company linked to the military, has sparked protests. Residents argue that these leases were executed without public consent and threaten their livelihoods, as tourism is a significant source of income for the region. Protests have also erupted over land seizures in areas like Astore, where locals allege that grazing lands are being encroached upon by land mafias with state backing. Demonstrators have called for investigations into these activities and for the protection of their ancestral lands.
The Broader Implications: A Humanitarian and Human Rights Crisis in the Making
These developments are not just troubling — they are alarming. What is unfolding in Gilgit-Baltistan and the Cholistan Desert is not simply about “green policies” or conservation. It is a systematic erasure of entire communities — indigenous people who have lived on these lands for generations, whose connection to the soil runs deeper than any fence, border, or bureaucratic claim.
What’s being presented as environmental progress is, for many on the ground, a cruel farce. Behind glossy phrases like “Green Initiatives” and “National Parks” lie forced evictions, loss of ancestral homes, and the quiet devastation of livelihoods. These people are not obstacles to progress — they are its first stewards. And yet, they are being pushed out to make room for military ventures, tourism, or corporate farming, as if their existence is inconvenient.
If this isn’t a deliberate attempt to displace the indigenous and working-class communities, then the government must do far more to prove otherwise. The silence, the lack of transparency, and the overt power dynamics all suggest that this is not conservation — this is conquest. History has warned us before. The pattern is hauntingly familiar. The dispossession of Native Americans in the name of “development.” The theft of indigenous land across continents, always justified by a higher cause, whether it was manifest destiny, economic growth, or environmental protection. We are watching that pattern repeat itself here — quietly, bureaucratically, and devastatingly.
This is not just a matter of policy — it is a human rights crisis. The right to land, to livelihood, to culture, and to exist without displacement is foundational. It is also humanitarian issue. These communities are not statistics or case studies. They are families. Elders. Children. Generations of oral histories and traditions rooted in the very land being stripped from under them. True conservation cannot come at the expense of people. Genuine environmentalism must center those who have protected and nurtured these ecosystems long before any state plan or corporate lease ever existed. If these communities are not part of the conversation, then what we are doing is not saving the environment — we are destroying humanity in the name of saving nature.
Let’s call this what it is: a slow, calculated removal — dressed in the green language of sustainability. And unless we listen, speak out, and act, history will repeat itself. Again.
