The COP30 climate summit in Brazil ended this week <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/cop30-to-cop31">without tangible commitment</a> from countries to reduce fossil fuel emissions. Its impact will be felt halfway around the planet here in Mustang which is already seeing weather extremes.&nbsp; Geographically, Mustang is on the Tibetan Plateau, north of the main Himalayan chain. It is in the rainshadow, and a high altitude desert. Winter snow has failed for eight of the past ten years, unseasonal blizzards, and frequent glacial collapse leading to floods. The Kali Gandaki Corridor follows one of the deepest gorges in the world between Annapurna and Dhaulagiri, the world’s seventh and tenth highest peaks. Lush pine forests cover the southern flanks of these mountains, but within a few kilometers the vegetation undergoes a dramatic change to a landscape of red, brown and grey cliffs.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_c66ade5e32d20530003abba893869426d75b42d10e4725c28361d738b402721f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251129021144_c66ade5e32d20530003abba893869426d75b42d10e4725c28361d738b402721f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  It gets more arid the more north you go. Snow and rain in Upper Mustang used to fall mostly in winter, but now there are cloudbursts and blizzards at other times of the year.&nbsp; In the ancient walled city of Lo Manthang, elderly men have gathered at a local tea shop to drink the salted butter tea. Some sip home-made liquor infused with medicinal herbs.&nbsp; The sun has set, the temperature plummets, and the wind howls outside. Everyone agrees it does not snow like it used to any more. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/comings-and-goings-in-mustang">Comings and goings in Mustang</a>, Shrijan Pandey  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_ffaabf00a533984cadf160b2e56734cddb6f64d1a660401417d2982a3818f161.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251129021144_ffaabf00a533984cadf160b2e56734cddb6f64d1a660401417d2982a3818f161" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> <figcaption>The flat mud roofs are leaking because rain is now falling where there used to be snow.</figcaption> </figure>  “The weather has changed drastically over the years,” says Lopsang Tsomfel Bista, Chair of the Lo Dekhar Municipality. “It doesn’t snow in winter, and it falls when it is not supposed to.”&nbsp; Lack of snow means that in spring, the pastures where nomadic herders graze their yaks and goats do not have enough grass. Previously, winter snow on the meadows would seep slowly into the soil with the spring thaw, bringing out fresh grass shoots. &nbsp; In recent years, even if there is winter precipitation, it falls as rain. The soil is not able to soak in rain as efficiently, and torrential downpours increase the risk of soil erosion and floods.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_93ca69bec63577c5f6cbff8db809c11bce2d8fe01469d3374c20a6f20a7c93f1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20251129021144_93ca69bec63577c5f6cbff8db809c11bce2d8fe01469d3374c20a6f20a7c93f1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  “There used to be up to 1,500 mountain goats in every village, but now they have stopped keeping livestock,” says Bista. This is due to lack of grass and new lowland diseases moving up the mountains. Mustang has lost 28% of its population between the census in 2011 and 2021, and outmigration also means there are fewer people left to carry on a pastoral lifestyle.&nbsp; “Herders have asked for vet services in their communities because there are new insect-borne diseases,” says Yangchen Dolker Gurung of the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/winds-of-change-sweep-mustang">Winds of change sweep Mustang</a>, Jagannath Adhikari  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_902593732af83db5792128be5a3bd87c00e0c62ff894afa4c98bffde64e96d26.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20251129021144_902593732af83db5792128be5a3bd87c00e0c62ff894afa4c98bffde64e96d26" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> <figcaption>The mud walls of monasteries and homes are crumbling because of unseasonal rainfall. </figcaption> </figure>  Mustang is flanked to the east and west by mountains that rise up to 6,000m, and glaciers on their slopes are melting fast, turning into lakes. With the rising temperature, the risk of Glacier Lakes Outburst Floods (GLOFs) has also risen.&nbsp; At the rate global average temperatures are rising, scientists say that the Himalaya will lose up to two-thirds of the remaining ice caps. When glaciers melt, it not just raises the risk from GLOFs but also affects water supply downstream.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025112903114_1a6af68965ded5f23897a623bec2e2bed0da4c6663f0af5b5bf79883f2a11c9f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="2025112903114_1a6af68965ded5f23897a623bec2e2bed0da4c6663f0af5b5bf79883f2a11c9f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1022" height="767" loading="lazy" alt="Mustang map NT"> </figure>  FLOODS Ringzin Sangbo Gurung in Chumjung village recalls the devastation caused by a GLOF on 8 July this year that swept away a newly inaugurated bridge. The floodplain is now strewn with boulders and sand brought down by the flood which caused damage worth Rs28 million. The flood also damaged the irrigation canals that feed riverside farms where locals grew potato, buckwheat, millet and spinach. Nyima Wangmo Gurung runs a homestay in Nyamdok village, and says: “We don’t have water when we need it. And there is too much when we don’t need it.”&nbsp; Read Also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">Mustang forced to adapt to climate c</a><a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mustang-forced-to-adapt-to-climate-crisis">risis</a>, Ronan Wallace and Yungdrung Tsewang Gurung  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_7ae98274ea20e910311ec4431ba0aa3ecd9fe92caaed029a33c185198b33d0d2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20251129021144_7ae98274ea20e910311ec4431ba0aa3ecd9fe92caaed029a33c185198b33d0d2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  With warming temperatures, farmers in Mustang are growing lowland vegetables which was not possible before in plastic greenhouses. The farms depended on snowmelt in spring to irrigate their fields, but there is less snow to melt in past years. “The last heavy snowfall in winter was about eight years ago, since then we have got little or no snow,” says Tashi Norbu Gurung, Chair of Lo Manthang Rural Municipality. “This affects farmers during the April planting season.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_010e09f4e9335f39c62f4d6027489c86423b3d10ddfb83558820f6a7a56a477b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_11" data-image-id="20251129021144_010e09f4e9335f39c62f4d6027489c86423b3d10ddfb83558820f6a7a56a477b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  It is not just lack of snowfall that is a problem. Springs have gone dry, and some villages like Dhey have been forced to relocate because life became &nbsp;impossible without water.&nbsp; Villagers of Samjung also <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/climate-migration-is-already-happening">migrated</a> to Namashung, near a river when water sources dried up. But now the new settlements are threatened by GLOFs. Karma Gurung, who runs a lodge in Choser, remembers the big flood of 35 years ago which swept away farms and covered them with debris. There have been more frequent, but destructive floods since then in Kagbeni, Lubra and other valleys. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/mixed-blessings-in-mustang">Mixed blessings in Mustang</a>, Mukesh Pokhrel  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_da2212bc1ad49c17d126e24bbd92d3fca18e3e6bdd58ac61df14c962deb2edcd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="20251129021144_da2212bc1ad49c17d126e24bbd92d3fca18e3e6bdd58ac61df14c962deb2edcd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  MUD WALLS Because snowfall has been replaced by rain, Mustang’s traditional mud-wall architecture is now in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/leaky-roofs-on-the-roof-of-the-world">danger of collapsing</a>. The homes here are closely packed, have flat roofs stacked with juniper branches for firewood. With rain in place of snow, the roofs now leak.&nbsp; Women in Thinkar village say their walls are falling apart. Some homes have collapsed, and families forced to move out. Yangchen Dolker Gurung of the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation says locals need plastic sheets, cement walls and corrugated roofs to cope with the rain.&nbsp; But this would mean that Mustang’s villages would lose their traditional architecture style.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_59c475cdde3bee8d03ed05e9038c0cf36f1acd31e3d3596f145469e5b4404d9d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20251129021144_59c475cdde3bee8d03ed05e9038c0cf36f1acd31e3d3596f145469e5b4404d9d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  The ancient 1.5m thick mud walls around Lo Manthang built 600 years ago, the king’s palace, and monasteries are also at risk. “Changes in precipitation patterns, altering the intensity, frequency, and timing of rainfall and snowfall, have damaged traditional and cultural infrastructure, particularly mud-built private and public buildings as well as religious and heritage sites,” explains Bhawani Pandey at the Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation. “With the rain, and because the monuments and stupas are made from mud, they have eroded. There is leakage, and the monuments are in a dilapidated condition.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure/" target="_blank">Climate-smarter Himalayan infrastructure</a>, Sonia Awale  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251129021144_dfc8c93a0a8619893f0d97076d1f9cbba3818e1cc716a903ff9908dbb8939ef6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_18" data-image-id="20251129021144_dfc8c93a0a8619893f0d97076d1f9cbba3818e1cc716a903ff9908dbb8939ef6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Too little snow, too much rain NT"> </figure>  The Lo Manthang Rural Municipality along with Lo Gyalpo Jigme Foundation, are working on a Local Adaptation Plan of Action and the Disaster Preparedness and Response Plan, which the Nepal government has made mandatory for every municipality. “We took a bottom-up approach and collected data from each village, they know best the impact of climate change and what their needs are,” says Yangchen Gurung. To address the hazards of climate change, local communities and municipalities are adapting through their own resources, without waiting for outside help to improve water conservation, control soil erosion and protect from flood.&nbsp; Says Pandey, “We are returning to conserving traditional drought-resistant crop varieties, organic pest and disease control, cultivating high-value crops and fruits, and practicing sustainable pasture management through rotational grazing. We have also developed new building codes for homes that incorporate water-resistant coating for mud roofs and walls.” &nbsp; Additional Reporting by Tashi Wangyal. &nbsp;

original

674x448

610x380

500x500

400x266

400x240

400x203

301x200

1250x600

1084x550

thumbnail

viewImage

Too little snow, too much rain

Nepali Times spoke to Director General Kamal Ram Joshi of Department of Hydrology and Meteorology (DHM) about weather extremes and changing rainfall patterns. Excerpts: &nbsp;
Nepali Times: Is the risk of glacial lakes bursting as serious as it is made out to be?&nbsp;
Kamal Ram Joshi: Analysing meteorological data of the past 30 years we see that average temperatures in Nepal are rising at o.o56 Celsius per year. That may not seem like a lot, but it adds up over the decades. More worryingly, the rise in average temperature is much higher: 0.086 Celsius a year. The Himalaya is therefore more at risk from global warming. 
 
This means 24% of our glaciers retreated between 1977 to 2010, and in many of them glacial lakes are expanding. Of total 47 glacial lakes categorised as potentially dangerous for Nepal, 21 are in Nepal, 25 in China and one in India. Since many of our rivers start in China, the impact of glacial lake outburst floods (GLOFs) is transboundary.&nbsp;
In the past 60 years 27 major GLOFs have been recorded in Nepal. Of them, 15 were from lakes in Nepal and 12 originated from Tibet. Lately, we have seen that even smaller unnoticed supra-glacial lakes have turned out to be a serious threat downstream – for example, recent floods in Thame of Khumbu, Namkha of Humla and Bhote Kosi in Rasuwa. 
 
So, what can be done to reduce the risk from GLOFs?&nbsp;
In 2000, with the support of The Netherlands the DHM lowered the level of Tso Rolpa glacial lake by 3.4m. Sixteen years later, we lowered the water level of Imja glacial lake in the Everest region. We have installed automated early warning systems in downstream areas based on precipitation data.&nbsp;
Based on the experience with Imja and Tso Rolpa, we proposed to the Green Climate Fund to reduce the risk of four other dangerous glacial lakes: Thulagi, Hongu 2, Lower Barun and Lumding Tso. It will cost of $50.44, GCF has approved $36.1 million with the UNDP and Nepal government co-financing it. 
 
How easy was it to secure GCF funds?
The Imja lake lowering was with support from the Green Environment Fund, and this experience allowed us to get the GCF on board to lower the water level of four more glacial lakes. We have also prepared a national adaptation plan based on which we can approach other donors and the international community.&nbsp;
 
Does Nepal graduating from a least developed country affect access to more funds for climate adaptation? 
 
Despite being a climate vulnerable country, Nepal has made good progress especially in the mitigating glacial lake outburst floods. India, Bhutan and China have not lowered their glacial lakes yet. Nepal has a lot of experience that it can share, for example 20 years ago we started an SMS early warning service to save lives from floods. Others can also follow our model. Lowering glacial lakes in Nepal means less risk for downstream countries.&nbsp;
Irrespective of financial and human resources that we have and our topography Nepal has done quite an impressive job in the field of disaster management. We have much more to do making our infrastructure more climate resilient. But we have done our best to disseminate information to save lives.&nbsp;
For example, in August a glacial flood started in China at 3am. If we had been warned, the nine lives we lost on the Bhote Kosi could have been saved. The flood arrived at Rasuwagadi at 6am, and we immediately warned settlements downstream saving lives. So, data sharing is important especially to prevent transboundary disasters. If China doesn’t share data with us, we will not know there is a flood coming.
Neither our northern nor southern neighbours are generous about sharing meteorological data. In Nepal, we share real time data on our official website. It is in the public domain and more people outside Nepal access them than Nepalis. Why? For any flood that originated in Nepal it takes three days to reach India, three more days to reach Bangladesh. We are sharing data on humanitarian grounds, but it is not reciprocal.
 
How do you plan to lower the remaining four glacial lakes?&nbsp;
We have started an implementation plan defining roles and responsibilities of implementing agencies, finalising project designs, total cost and structures. Based on that, selected firms will lower glacial lake levels and we will install early warning awareness and hydrometric stations. The core objective of this approach is to ensure an end-to-end early warning system and last mile communication. Next, we also protect watersheds after lowering water levels.&nbsp;
 
What is in Nepal’s national adaptation plan?&nbsp;
Access to global climate finance is evidence-based. No donor will give money without data justifying your claim. Our experience with Tso Rolpa and Imja is proof to potential donors that we have experience and evidence to back it up. At Cop27, we had pledged to ensure early warning for all by 2027, we have now extended that to 2030.&nbsp;
&nbsp;For that, we will expand our forecasting and early warning so that the death and destruction following the tornado in Bara and cloud burst in Manang in 2022 could be prevented. Manang saw 300mm of rain in Manang in June when the average rainfall for that month is 42. The Melamchi flood in 2021 is taken as a disaster of multi-hazard cascade effects.&nbsp;
Last year, an unprecedented 624mm was recorded in Kanchanpur. Because of timely information and rescue, there was zero casualty. But this year 97 people died in flood whereas 34 died in Kathmandu valley despite timely information. That was because of the public ignoring the warnings. It is worth noting that more than 1300 people had died when a similar rainfall volume was recorded in 1993.&nbsp;
Timely information about extreme weather caused by climate breakdown can save lives.&nbsp;

“Neighbours not keen on sharing met data”

· &nbsp;At least 400 people are dead or missing after heavy rainfall lashed arid regions of northwestern Pakistan. Walls of mud and boulders engulfed entire villages in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Province. More than 700 people have been killed in floods in Pakistan since June.&nbsp; · &nbsp;Over in India’s Jammu and Kashmir at the same time, multiple slurry floods on 17-18 August killed more than 80 people · A mudslide possibly caused by a glacial collapse upstream in Uttarakhand on 5 August nearly wiped the village of Dharali off the map. At least 70 people, 23 of them Nepalis are dead or missing. · On the night of 8 July, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/rasuwa-flood-likely-a-glof">glacial lakes in Tibet overflowed</a>. By dawn the mudflow had demolished the Nepal-China border bridge killing at least 11 people, destroyed hydropower plants, swept away bridges, roads, over 100 cargo trucks and newly imported electric vehicles. All these disasters have a common thread: a cascade of hazards caused by record-breaking rainfall on fragile Himalayan slopes destabilised by melting glaciers and permafrost, seismicity and poorly engineered infrastructure. They are called ‘rain bombs’ — a heavy localised downpour measuring more than 100mm/h on a steep mountainside. As global warming heats the atmosphere, warmer air can hold more water vapour. The heavy rain then falls where there should be snowfall: on moraines and slopes that have lost the permafrost adhesive that held the debris together. “Increasingly, there is now more rainfall at higher altitudes where there used to be snowfall previously, and this directly impacts loose material in that fragile landscape which moves down,” explains Mohan B Chand, a Himalayan Glaciologist at Kathmandu University. “Moreover, the rains these days are heavy and fall within a few hours. So even a small burst has bigger impact.” The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/drones-to-the-rescue-in-melamchi">2021 Melamchi flood</a> and the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/sikkim-flood-is-warning-to-nepal">Sikkim disaster in 2023</a> have been attributed to record-breaking torrential rain on a glacial moraine that collapsed, unleashing a catastrophic debris flow.&nbsp; The Bhote Kosi flood this year happened even without torrential rain, and originated at rapidly expanding supraglacial lakes that overflowed, similar to what happened on the Mendenhall Galcier in Alaska last week. In Uttarakhand, the trigger could be in the upper catchment cryosphere, or a landslide dammed lake. Basanta Raj Adhikari of the Centre for Disaster Studies at the Institute of Engineering also calls them ‘sediment bombs’. He clarifies: “There is lots of sediment up there from landslides or glacial activity, and when there is heavy rainfall and hotter temperature, they are unleashed downstream. One thing is for sure, these extreme events are getting more frequent and more destructive.” Researcher Alton C Byers who has studied melting glaciers in the Himalaya and Andes names the eight most potentially dangerous glacial lakes in Nepal: Lower Barun, Chamlang North Tso, Chamlang South Tso, Dig Tso which burst in 1984, Lumding Tso, Thulagi, Tso Rolpa and Imja Tso (see map).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250822030844_70b3bf6a1ad9b9f9481c9af860629b2a05ac1338a3b89a831506f1c6bdddf5ec.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250822030844_70b3bf6a1ad9b9f9481c9af860629b2a05ac1338a3b89a831506f1c6bdddf5ec" data-rendition-name="original" width="522" height="557" loading="lazy" alt="high risk glacial lakes in Nepal"> </figure>  Of these, Tso Rolpa and Imja have been lowered by 3m each, while Thulagi, Lower Barun, Lumding Tsho, and Hongu 2 glacial lakes have been targeted for lowering by the Department of Hydrology and Meteorology as part of the recent Green Climate Fund grant of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/meltpools-in-the-himalaya" target="_blank">$36.1 million awarded to Nepal</a>. “These lakes have changed over the years as their debris-covered glaciers continue to recede,” Byers told Nepali Times. “When water volume in the lake basin increases, they become more vulnerable to flood triggers such as overhanging ice as glaciers recede further to their headwalls, and permafrost on their moraines continues to melt.” <h2>These are not ‘natural disasters’</h2> Scientists have given the current planetary epoch a name: the Anthropocene. And anthropogenic causes in this era heighten the risk of disasters. Indeed, an analysis of recent Himalayan calamities (page 1) shows that there is much more at play here than climate breakdown. Haphazard encroachment of floodplains, quarrying and crusher activity exacerbated the effect of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/when-it-rains-it-pours-ksqprbu3">extreme rainfall on 28 September around Kathmandu Valley</a> that killed 200 people. The human cost of the 5 August catastrophe in Uttarakhand would have been high in any case, but the fact that the tiny village had expanded across a vulnerable alluvial fan to cater to a tourism boom meant more death and destruction. There are similar alluvial fans across Nepal, where small towns have expanded because new highways follow rivers, like Beni located at the confluence of the Myagdi Khola and Kali Gandaki. Other towns like Kagbeni or Damauli are located on the banks of rivers and tributaries that are directly downstream from rapidly expanding glacial lakes or unstable mountains. “In Butwal, people are building houses on the floodplain of the Tinau River, and yet people blame climate change or rainfall when there is a disaster,” says Basanta Raj Adhikari at the Institute of Engineering. “This is happening all over the country. Imagine the kind of devastation Beni would suffer if there was a big flood.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250822030848_ed411f8618c7a411ed4c165e91f3b880abb085a8a511405710dd8220f657da84.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250822030848_ed411f8618c7a411ed4c165e91f3b880abb085a8a511405710dd8220f657da84" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Beni Bazar"> <figcaption>RISKY CONFLUENCE: Beni has expanded rapidly after the highway to Mustang was built. But the town is situated on the alluvial fan of past flash floods on both the Kali Gandaki and Myagdi Khola which have dangerous glacial lakes in their upper catchment. Photo: BENI TOURISM</figcaption> </figure>  Traditionally, Nepal’s villages and settlements were located high above rivers because our forebears learnt lessons from recurring flash floods. Now, the road network follows rivers, and towns have sprung up along these highways. Even when roads are not on river banks, many gouge out slopes above, unleashing massive landslides that block rivers. Experts say Nepal’s hazard map should now be updated for glacial outbursts so municipalities can plan risk-sensitive land use zoning. This &nbsp;must go hand-in-hand with measures to reduce the risk by structural mitigation, such as engineering and construction, and then with risk awareness and early-warning systems. Says Himalayan researcher Alton C Byers: “Sooner or later, communities will realise that certain sites are simply no longer safe for a village or city, especially because of climate change in the mountains. The Himalaya has always been high-risk with its steep slopes, thin soil, monsoon rainfall regime, and frequent seismic activity. So, some places are no longer safe to live in.” Mohan B Chand of Kathmandu University adds that <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-smarter-himalayan-infrastructure">hazard mapping is especially crucial for expensive hydropower plants</a>: “Most of these are on snow-fed rivers, but environmental risk assessment is not taken seriously.” He says that because Nepal is set to generate 28,500MW by 2035 to meet its carbon neutral target, the government must work to minimise upstream risk by integrating disaster mitigation components in new energy investments. Few know that Nepal’s first hazard mapping was done 40 years ago in the Khumbu with a United Nations University study titled ‘Highland Lowland Interactive Systems’. It is hard to find that document anywhere. Today, hazard mapping technologies, satellite remote sensing, drones, synthetic aperture radar (SAR) and modelling with AI have made it much easier to integrate multi-hazard risk assessment. That data needs to be made available to local governments so they can plan. Cell phones and new apps that monitor real-time glacial lake levels, live precipitation and hydrological data, and local weather forecasts can make early warning systems more effective. Recent disasters have shown that even the smallest of glacial lakes that are rarely considered in risk assessments can cause much damage. Langmale Lake in the Barun Valley was less than 0.1 km2 in size, but <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting" target="_blank">the flood in 2017</a> caused extensive downstream damage. The 2012 Seti flood in Pokhara, the Chamoli disaster in Uttarakhand in 2021, the South Lhonak proglacial lake burst in Sikkim in 2023 that washed away the $1.7 billion Chungthang Teesta III Project, and the August 2024 floods above Thame in Khumbu are other recent examples.&nbsp; Byers thinks some of these floods may have been initially triggered by massive rockfall or moraine collapse related to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-not-so-permanent-frost" target="_blank">melting permafrost</a>. The size of a glacial lake alone does not determine the severity of destruction. What makes all the difference is downstream development, and if there pre-warning. Dig Tso in Khumbu which burst in 1984, was much larger than the lake that caused the Bhote Kosi flood in July, but the economic cost to the country of the trans-boundary disaster this year was much higher. Says glaciologist Chand: “We have to monitor the lakes, not just via remote sensing but with field visits. These may be costly, but mitigating the risk is less expensive than the disasters themselves.” Nepal has the technology and trained personnel to do hazard mapping, monitoring, and to design early warning apps. That data and information now needs to be available to all three levels of government to improve preparedness and risk reduction. “The cascading and compounding hazards are increasing in the Himalaya, this must be the subject of our research now,” says Adhikari at the Centre for Disaster Studies. “Recent events are a wake-up call, if we do not take this seriously things may be more dangerous in future.”

Sonia Awale

Rain bombs

Phewa Lake in Pokhara used to be much bigger, but it has been shrinking because of the sediment brought down from the surrounding mountains as well as human encroachment. The slopes above the lake used to be heavily denuded, and there was severe soil erosion because Pokhara Valley gets one of the highest annual rainfall in Nepal. To trap the silt, small dams were constructed across streams that flowed into the lake, but the Community Forestry Program restored the catchment’s lush vegetation reducing sedimentation. However, there is now a new danger: extreme weather caused by climate breakdown. And it was here exactly 10 years ago on 28 July 2015 that torrential rain over two days killed over 30 people in Kaski district. Thirteen of them were swept away in a flashflood on the Harpan Khola. But a month later, there was such heavy rain that even the thickly forested mountain above could not prevent a landslide that killed more people. Teacher at the local school, Arjun BK, lost several of his students in that disaster. The tragedy was so traumatic that it left a deep emotional wound that he carries to this day, a decade later. Returning to the classroom to see the empty desks became too unbearable. “That’s why I quit my job as a teacher”, BK told us as he showed us around the village which still bears scars of that landslide and flood ten years ago. Teaching, once a source of joy, became a source of anxiety, grief and frustration. BK showed signs of post-traumatic stress: he would find himself angry, would be cross with his students. Aware of his declining mental health, BK made the difficult decision to leave his job. BK’s struggle also exposed an aspect of climate breakdown that has not got as much attention: how climate change induced disasters are affecting the mental health of survivors. He then founded Koshish Kaski, an organisation working on mental health awareness and care. Koshish Kaski is a satellite organisation of Koshish Nepal, which is the country’s first mental health organization. BK’s symptoms aligned with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD): negative thoughts, irritability, difficulty in emotion regulation and avoidance of places that reminded him of the trauma.&nbsp; “I realised these symptoms were not only affecting my mental well-being, but also compromised my ability to teach effectively, so I quit on time,” says BK, while admitting that not everyone has the wisdom to recognise the wounds, nor the privilege to quit their jobs.&nbsp; Many continue teaching while silently struggling, and this can profoundly impact the student’s growth in the process. Arjun BK’s neice Devi Sunar survived the disaster ten years ago, and recalls how her farming community along the Haadi Khola struggled with trauma, fear and sleepless nights. Sunar herself has noticed that the once-predictable weather pattern in the mountains has changed, the monsoons are erratic, springs have dried up, and it is hotter than before. This has led to a decline in harvests – adding to crop loss due to raids by monkeys and wild boar. All this have placed psychological and economic strain on farmers like Devi Sunar.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250728110724_c61b3f30d270385f2def34c7a41ef1e7b049b520038a45c90b77c209c4f75265.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250728110724_c61b3f30d270385f2def34c7a41ef1e7b049b520038a45c90b77c209c4f75265" data-rendition-name="original" width="1420" height="716" loading="lazy" alt="climate disasters in Nepal"> <figcaption>The site of the flashflood 10 yeas later. Photo: KAREN SUDMEIRE</figcaption> </figure>  Studies have found that women are more susceptible to anxiety and depression, and this is corroborated by Arjun BK’s own findings at Koshish Kaski. Climate-related disasters and crop loss add to gender discrimination at home and work. The stress, he found, can disrupt hormonal balance leading to irregular menstrual cycles and poor general health.&nbsp; Along with women, ethnic and ‘lower’ caste groups are more affected by climate-related disasters. Indeed, most of the lives lost in the 2015 disaster were from marginalised groups. In Nepal, these communities are more vulnerable because they live in riskier terrain, have limited access to resources, and heavy dependence on the natural environment for subsistence agriculture. To the north of Pokhara in the Trans-Himalayan Mustang district, farmers say winter rain and snow have failed for the past three years. This is critical since the region’s apple orchards need snow to moisten the soil in spring, as well as control pests.&nbsp; In Kagbeni at the confluence of the Kali Gandaki and Jhong Khola, there are still signs of the devastating debris flow that came down in August 2023, washing away 35 homes, a monastery, livestock and infrastructure.&nbsp; “Luckily, no human lives were lost because there was warning from upstream communities,” recalls Kagbeni Mayor Phenchok Tseptan.&nbsp; Although that flood was likely caused by a landslide lake outbrust upstream, local people suffer anxiety and spend sleepless nights even if there is a light drizzle as it brings back memories of that terrifying day.&nbsp; Because of the lack of awareness and societal taboo about mental health, few in Nepal link climate-related disasters like the ones in Kaski and Mustang to post-traumatic stress or generalised anxiety disorder. And as the Harpan Khola tragedy shows, the impact can be felt even a decade or more later. Arjun BK is a rare survivor of a disaster who not only spoke up about his condition, but also chose to do something about it and help others suffering silently. In recent years, mental health awareness has reached many communities across Nepal and the government has announced plans to establish outpatient mental health units in hospitals.&nbsp; Teachers in schools are also being trained to recognise and care for those who struggle silently with mental health issues – especially after climate-induced disasters. Better early-warning systems to reduce the impact would be a way to prevent trauma, anxiety and stress in the first place.&nbsp; Anek Rajbhandari is a graduate of New York University in Abu Dhabi and has a background in Psychology. The article is a part of author's involvement in Lumbini to LoManthang project by Duke University (Planetlab), IHRR, HUC, FEED and Karmaflight.

The unseen wounds of climate disasters

Climate mitigation targets are being rolled back worldwide, and time is running out for saving <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/himalayan-icecap-melting-faster-than-thought">the Himalayan icecap</a>.&nbsp;
That was the unsaid message of the three-day Sagarmatha Sambaad international climate conference hosted by the Nepal government in Kathmandu this week.
The gathering ended with a 25-point Call For Action, but drew criticism for being yet another talk shop, regurgitating jargon and deflecting blame for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/latest/nepal-doubles-its-carbon-footprint">lack of seriousness in reducing emissions</a>, adapting to weather extremes in the region, and failure in cross border cooperation.
“The event put Nepal and Everest on the global climate map and had geopolitical benefits for Nepal,” says climate policy analyst Arjun Dhakal. “But it was a missed opportunity for Nepal to strongly push<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-needs-weather-stations-in-the-himalaya"> climate-smart infrastructure</a>, transboundary <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/yes-quakes-can-be-forecast?%2F">early warning systems</a> and highland research.”
Nepal unveiled its Nationally Determined Contributions (NDC) 3.0 with mitigation targets for 2030 and 2035, and its first Biennial Transparency Report with emissions data from 1994 to 2022 and projections up to 2050.
Although Nepal has met previous targets for forest cover (46% of area) and made progress in promoting <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-journey-to-electric-public-transport">electric transport</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/fossil-fools">fossil fuel </a>use is growing. The Third NDC targets a 17.1% reduction in net greenhouse gas emissions and 26.8% by 2035. This could have a price tag of &nbsp;$73.74 billion — most of it from international climate finance at a time when money for it is drying up.
Nepal also hopes to increase electricity generation to 28,500MW by 2035, up the sales of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-journey-to-electric-public-transport">electric public vehicles </a>to 90%, and operate at least 100km of integrated electric bus, trolley and light rail transit in Kathmandu Valley, and build 300km of electric train network.
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-public-in-public-transport">The public in public transport</a>, Sonia Awale
These are lofty promises at a time when the government's next budget has a huge revenue shortfall, and the Ministry of Finance is expected to increase taxes on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/evs-hybrids-and-plug-ins?%2F">battery-operated vehicles</a> which have seen a huge increase due to past rebates.
“<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/guest-editorial/act-now-on-climate">Climate change </a>has become political, big emitters aren’t even respecting <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/combining-ipcc-targets-with-sdgs">global targets</a>. So it is very unlikely they are listening to us,” says water expert Madhukar Upadhyay. “Nepal just does not have the political stature to push global commitments. But we could have narrowed the focus and taken the lead on regional action.”&nbsp;
The World Meteorological Organisation (WMO) has predicted above-normal rainfall and temperatures for South Asia for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/before-the-next-monsoon">monsoon</a> 2025. Pre-monsoon rains this year are above normal and could be a sign of things to come.&nbsp;
“Rainfall patterns have changed, they are shorter, have higher intensity and are localised. Mudslides are now a big problem,” says Upadhyay. “We need specific intervention for specific places, taking into account geological and other factors to increase <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/on-high-monsoon-alert-in-nepal">preparedness</a>.”
Too much water is a problem, but so is too little. Nepal has suffered chronic <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-suffers-another-winter-drought">winter drought</a>, causing natural springs to go dry — affecting food security and pushing outmigration.&nbsp;
The Climate Impact Survey 2022 put droughts as the number one <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/climate-change-hits-himalayan-rice?%2F">climate concern</a> of most Nepalis, but it barely got a mention in the plush conference hall this week. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/how-transboundary-haze-affects-nepal">Transboundary pollution</a> and black carbon deposition accelerating <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting">glacier melting </a>also could have done with more attention.
One key proposal at Sagarmatha Sambaad was to establish a climate fund for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/from-the-north-pole-to-the-third-pole">Himalayan nations</a>. But given the geopolitical tensions after the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/nukes-in-the-neighbourhood">India-Pakistan conflict</a> this month, and the suspension of the Indus Water Treaty, this is even less likely.
Says Arjun Dhakal: “The dialogue could have been more impactful if we had taken concrete steps to set up the Himalayan climate fund instead of just proposing it.”&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/climate-change-is-a-disaster-in-the-nepal-himalaya">Climate change is a disaster in the Nepal Himalaya</a>, Sonam Choekyi Lama
The next round of Sagarmatha Sambaad is planned for 2027, and if present warming trends continue, global average temperature will have exceeded 1.6°C above pre-industrial levels. And experts say the Himalaya warms 0.7°C above the global average — making <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/global-heating-melts-mountains">glaciers of High Asia melt</a> even more rapidly.&nbsp;
Of the estimated $400 billion annually required for loss and damage, only $768.4 million has been pledged to the Fund for Responding to Loss and Damage (FRLD) since the operationalisation of the Loss and Damage Fund during COP28. Even then, only $321 million has been paid into the FRLD.
The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/blueprint-for-a-net-zero-nepal">efforts to reduce emissions</a> have declined globally in recent times, regardless of advancement in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-can-lead-in-zero-carbon">clean energy transition</a>, and some say as the developing world forms its climate action entirely around climate financing, they will also lose their moral ground when advocating for reducing emissions.
“We are running out of time, we cannot keep waiting for the loss and damage fund,” says Upadhyay. “Nepal’s own upcoming budget can do much for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/how-nepal-can-finance-climate-action?mibextid=Zxz2cZ">climate action</a> if we prioritise emission reduction and preparedness.”

Himalayan meltdown

The spring 2025 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/peak-climbing-season-2025-s4abrxny">mountaineering season</a> has started with an early reminder of the fine balance of glory and risk on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/knowing-our-mountains-43v4iyvo">Himalayan peaks</a>.&nbsp; Everest as always is the biggest draw. But on the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/il-y-a-d-autres-annapurnas-dans-la-vie-des-hommes">75th anniversary of its first ascent</a>, Annapurna has seen record numbers of expeditions, and climbers are also commemorating 70 years of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/saving-kangchenjunga">Kangchenjunga</a>’s first successful climb in 1955.&nbsp; But as a stark reminder of the <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=2912">dangers of Himalayan mountaineering</a> that have been exacerbated by a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-third-pole-is-warming-faster-than-expected">warming climate</a>, came on Annapurna with the tragic deaths of two promising young Nepali high altitude guides.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mt-everest-pvt-ltd">Everest</a> is seeing big numbers because it is Everest, and it is there. Some 220 international climbers and their guides from 22 expeditions have already arrived at Everest Base Camp, but this number is expected to cross 450, and could even beat the 2023 record of 478 foreign climbers.&nbsp; There seems to be greater demand for Everest permits because the fee is being hiked up from $11,000 to $15,000 starting this autumn. But the $4,000 increase is not expected to reduce the crowds, and therefore<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/overkill-on-everest"> the risks, on the world’s highest mountain</a>.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250418050440_f2cb0157d4779ee131d4b7ef8b67302904cad74b37aee48a778bbdcff05ed824.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250418050440_f2cb0157d4779ee131d4b7ef8b67302904cad74b37aee48a778bbdcff05ed824" data-rendition-name="original" width="1121" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Number of climbing permits 2025"> </figure>  The Department of Tourism starts issuing permits for the mountain only in early-April, which many find absurd because mountaineers start preparing for their Everest climb years in advance.&nbsp; “That is just the process, we want to make sure climbers have all of their paperwork in order once they land in Nepal,” says Goma Rai from the Department of Tourism.&nbsp; Even as expeditions make their first forays up the Khumbu Icefall on Everest, there has already been considerable activity on other <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/in-just-2-years-a-nepal-peak-becomes-snowless">Himalayan peaks</a>. Makalu (8,485m) has already seen <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nepali-times-buzz/seven-summits-women-climb-again,1486">successful summits </a>this season. Ten guides fixing ropes reached the top of the world’s fifth highest mountain on 10 April. &nbsp; There are two Indian expeditions on Kanchenjunga, which at 8,586m is the third-tallest mountain in the world. The Indian teams are climbing from the Nepal side of the border peak because climbing from the Indian side is not allowed. &nbsp; One of the teams is led by three-time Everest summiteer Col Ranveer Sing Jamwal which is on the last leg of the ‘Har Shikhar Tiranga’ campaign to plant an Indian tricolour on the highest point of all 28 Indian states.&nbsp; <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/those-who-stay">Unpredictable weather</a> and its technical nature makes the north face of ‘Kangch’ treacherous. There have been 12,884 Everest summits since 1953, but there have only been 250 ascents of Kanchenjunga in 70 years. Annapurna saw 45 summits over 6-7 April before the weather worsened. On 7 April, an avalanche swept away Ngima Tashi Sherpa and Rima Rinje Sherpa. Pemba Thenduk Sherpa, who was also roped up, survived. “It was a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/five-years-after-avalanche-langtang-is-locked-down">big avalanche</a>, taller than a Kathmandu house when it came down,” recalls Pemba Thenduk. “Me and my client were right under a serac and were saved. We realised our two friends had been swept away but could not find them.”&nbsp; After four days of searching with two helicopters, the expedition company Seven Summit Trek abandoned the search. Nima Tashi was the unsung hero who helped save the life of an incapacitated Malaysian climber, carrying him down from 8,400m on Everest last year. A video of the rescue by Ngima Tashi and Gelje Sherpa became an international sensation. But luck ran out for Ngima Tashi and Rima Rinje on Annapurna last week. ‘We have lost two of our finest <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/without-sherpas-there-is-no-mountaineering">Sherpa guides</a>,’ Seven Summits said in a statement. ‘It is no longer possible for anyone to survive this long under the ice, and prolonging search means risking the lives of other Sherpas.’ In the past 75 years, Annapurna has seen the highest fatality rate among Himalayan peaks, with one third of those trying to climb it not making it down alive. This year, guides ran out of fixed rope because there were so many crevasses on the north face. They also reported bigger and more frequent rockfalls and avalanches.&nbsp; South African climber John Black was nearly caught in the avalanche that killed the guides. He then made the agonising decision to turn back soon after leaving Camp 3 last week on Annapurna.&nbsp; “I was uncomfortable and uneasy. Some may call it gut, others may call it calculated,” says Black, who actually shared a chocolate with the two Sherpas just before they were swept away by the avalanche. “It is certainly a sharp reminder that the risks are real and things can change in a heartbeat.”&nbsp; After the avalanche, there has been criticism of some climbers deciding to be helicoptered off the north face despite not showing signs of immediate emergency. A problem in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-himalayan-odyssey">Himalayan mountaineering </a>in recent years has been the greater numbers of inexperienced climbers who are not only risks to themselves, but also to guides and other climbers. Many do not know when to turn back when the going gets tough. “Some climbers struggled with crampons, some seemed to lack decent techniques for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/if-the-ice-is-gone-we-are-done">climbing rock and ice</a>,” says Black. “In many cases, the climbers were too slow and struggled to move efficiently across tricky terrain. On a mountain like Annapurna, speed is the only thing you can do to reduce exposure to danger.”&nbsp; The problem has been made worse by instant gratification through social media posts. The challenge of climbing a Himalayan peak has been replaced by an <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/love-of-books-goes-online">Instagram</a> summit fetish, and expedition companies try to accommodate the wishes of their clients.&nbsp; The other expedition that generated a controversy even before it started is of a four-member team of British Army veterans who are ‘acclimatising’ by breathing xenon gas ahead of the climb to enhance production of their red blood corpuscles. Although this is said to be an ‘experiment’, use of the gas by the Mission Everest Expedition has been criticised because it is banned by the Anti-doping Agency as performance enhancing. Dimantha Dilan Thenuwara, a Sri Lankan IT professional, is attempting the gorgeous Ama Dablam. He plans to take both the Sri Lanka and Nepal flags up to the summit, and wear the daura suruwal Nepali national dress on top. He wants to promote a message of ‘prosperity through unity’, especially among <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/south-asia-2040-qxr16oup">South Asian countries</a>.&nbsp; Thenuwara describes himself as a pampered child who was best friends with his dad, who was killed in the 2004 Sri Lanka Tsunami. The tragedy drives him to climb.&nbsp; “This expedition is a mission that began 20 years ago,” says Thenuwara, who had to grow up quickly, and put himself through tech school. He is financing the trip himself, and believes strongly in the need for youth to remember their roots. The Ama Dablam climb is<a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=6738"> preparation for an expedition</a> to climb K2 later this year.&nbsp; Another notable expedition is of Peter Hamor of Slovakia and the Italian couple Nives Meroi and Romano Benet, who are attempting a new route on 7,590m Yalung Peak in the Kanchenjunga massif. A two-member British team is already at <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/letters-from-everest-base-camp-1-vfqcer0e">Everest Base Camp</a> to go up the Lhotse face and make one more attempt to jump off the mountain in wingsuits. &nbsp;

Vishad Raj Onta

Glory and risk on Himalayan peaks

Before much of the world realised the impact and severity of the climate crisis, Nepal was already moving towards clean energy through ‘small is beautiful’ technology that improved on traditional tools and methods.&nbsp; Today, Nepal is building multi-billion dollar hydropower projects and importing fancy electrical appliances. But few know that both the government and the country’s development partners were actively promoting small, renewable, and green energy sources before climate change became the buzzword. The drivers behind this movement beginning in the late 1970s, included the widespread belief that Nepal was losing its forests at an alarming rate resulting in soil erosion. Called the ‘Himalayan Degradation Theory’, it was later debunked, but not before international conferences and workshops on appropriate technology were held to address the threat of denuded mountains. &nbsp; In 1978, Nepal-based Belgian Jesuit Bertrand Saubolle and Swiss engineer Andreas Bachmann authored the popular book, Mini Technology. They wrote about how to cool a house without air-conditioning, how to chill beer without a refrigerator, how to produce gas for cooking and lighting, and how to make crows trap themselves.&nbsp; Although afforestation and agricultural programs in Nepal 45 years ago received the bulk of foreign and domestic assistance, a small but important portion was devoted to the development of alternative sources of energy for cooking, lighting, and work. Even back then, Dipak Gyawali, Krishna Murari Gautam and Kunda Dixit were already publishing the Biogas Newsletter and the Nepali language alternative energy journal Shakti to highlight small-scale sustainable solutions to the energy, food and water needs of Nepalis. Some of the technologies developed and tested in Nepal are shown below. Some are from 50 years ago.&nbsp; Technicians and tinkerers drove the development of these alternative tools. Some, like Andreas Bachman and Akkal Man Nakarmi, were certified engineers. Many were mechanically-inclined amateurs with a mission, some would say passion, for developing and disseminating simple technologies that could make life better and easier for the average Nepali farmer. All were convinced that their work would one day in one way or another lead to poverty alleviation, better natural resource management, and improved livelihoods. Today, it is important to ask: did the decades of appropriate technology research, development, and dissemination have an impact?&nbsp; Biogas is one of the success stories of Nepal with over 400,000 household biogas plants installed, while large-scale industrial plants are in various stages of operation today. The spread has now slowed because of outmigration and the entry of cheap LPG. Hundreds of improved ghatta are still in use. Scores of micro-and mini-hydropower plants continue to provide power for hundreds of Nepal’s isolated mountain villages. Solar lighting is common in thousands of trekker’s lodges throughout Nepal, as are solar battery chargers for the now-ubiquitous cell phones and laptops. Solar water boilers for kitchen use, and solar driers for fruit preservation, are in use in Nepal’s more arid and sunnier locations, such as Khumbu and Mustang. Solar pumps irrigate fields in difficult terrain. Unfortunately, the Arusha windmill never left Kathmandu Valley, and the legendary winds of the Kali Gandaki proved to be too much for what proved to be a poorly anchored Savonius windmill.&nbsp; Likewise, solar reflectors and insulated cookers never really caught on, most likely because they were too cumbersome or inconvenient to use regularly. And whatever happened to the predictions of catastrophic loss of forest cover on the mountains, one might wonder.&nbsp; Unexpectedly, the &nbsp;‘deforestation’ pressures of the 1970s were largely reduced by outmigration, abandoned farmland, LPG cylinders and second-growth forests. Nepal's successful community-based forestry initiatives of the 1980s also deserve credit, and has nearly doubled its forest cover in the past 25 years.&nbsp; Reduction in fuelwood use brought about by improved chulo, solar water heaters, backburner water heaters, and locally sourced electricity assuredly played important roles as well. Nepal is the pioneer of appropriate technologies in South Asia. But how do all of the empirical successes, and some failures, stack up against the gigawatts of energy being produced by massive new hydroelectric stations that is making possible the current switch to electric vehicles?&nbsp; In terms of total energy output, appropriate technology’s current contribution is miniscule. But the spirit of innovation and the need for locally-appropriate solutions in rural areas will continue to have relevance to many. Simple, cost-effective solutions may just be what Nepal, and the world, need most in the long run.&nbsp; This is especially true because expensive hydro infrastructure and dams are at a higher risk of climate disasters as seen in Melamchi and Sikkim, and Tama Kosi recently. &nbsp; <h2>&nbsp;IMPROVED CHULO</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_5165e36a6f8f2644f30835ec703dec59566e8167408ac6849bea7e3f616bb654.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20250201030220_5165e36a6f8f2644f30835ec703dec59566e8167408ac6849bea7e3f616bb654" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1007" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>Engineers test the efficiency of a traditional firewood stove, measuring the temperature of water. Photo: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>  Chulo stoves were tested at the Royal Nepal Academy of Science and Technology (now NAST) to be disseminated across rural Nepal. Form-fitting holes for pots, fire breaks to direct the flames more directly to the bottom of the pots, and chimneys to remove smoke increased the efficiency of traditional firewood stoves, and improved health. <h2>HONEY BEES</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_7ec4ac53f7bdf614e258436b244bf2bdefe8d5d6da7a3103d141561c75377f8c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250201030220_7ec4ac53f7bdf614e258436b244bf2bdefe8d5d6da7a3103d141561c75377f8c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1508" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>Bertrand Saubolle with a beehive in Godavari in the early 1980s. Photo: BORT COBURN</figcaption> </figure>  Jesuit priest Bertrand Saubolle was a tireless promoter of 'small is beautiful' technology like biogas, solar driers and small hydropower. <h2>BIOGAS&nbsp;</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030224_300fe4d23c85dc7ae859a2ca593ca5e8cdb623faab7afc25ecd656eb2ce858bc.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20250201030224_300fe4d23c85dc7ae859a2ca593ca5e8cdb623faab7afc25ecd656eb2ce858bc" data-rendition-name="original" width="1300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>A biogas plant in Kathmandu in the 1980s, and a homemaker cooking using clean methane gas from a digester. Photos: BROT COBURN</figcaption> </figure>  In the mid-1970s, the United Mission to Nepal (UMN) introduced the first village biogas plants based on successful models from India. Each unit produced clean methane gas for cooking and lighting, as well as a nutrient-rich slurry that made an excellent pathogen-free fertiliser. The innovative underground dome Nepali design was maintenance free, and cheaper and spread rapidly with subsidised loans from the government. <h2>SOLAR PLANTS</h2> Despite the dismal state of investment and research into solar plants in Nepal today leading to a chronic lack of diversification in the energy sector, the opposite was true in the 1980s. Engineers at Balaju Yantra Shala were testing and marketing the first generation of solar water heaters for domestic home use.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_8fd43115360c6f633c131a277c4e4f27960b7e8d27097f2f65716589450f8468.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20250201030220_8fd43115360c6f633c131a277c4e4f27960b7e8d27097f2f65716589450f8468" data-rendition-name="original" width="1667" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>Solar water heaters on display at Balaju Yantra Shala. Nepal is still benefiting from this early investment in passive solar water heaters. Photo: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_27f9c80b02a924c70b4d156905c66d98bc35235a87b6ce7504b162b450076608.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="20250201030220_27f9c80b02a924c70b4d156905c66d98bc35235a87b6ce7504b162b450076608" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1098" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>A solar apple dryer being tested at the apple farm in Marpha in 1982. Photo: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030228_22fd5f332d0929f46e791cd58ec18ab58de9c1c8b75b36972b2026c61f733968.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250201030228_22fd5f332d0929f46e791cd58ec18ab58de9c1c8b75b36972b2026c61f733968" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1508" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>Solar reflector cookers and hotbox cookers being tested in the early 1980s which, along with similar parabolic reflectors, focused the sun’s rays on a pot of water that could rapidly bring it to a boil. Photo: BORT COBURN</figcaption> </figure>  Other solar technologies included solar dryers for drying apples in Marpha, reflective and hotbox cookers that reduced fuelwood use by placing a boiling pot of rice into an insulated box, and solar water boilers that quickly produced hot water for kitchen use. <h2>&nbsp;WINDMILLS</h2> Windmill technology was also being introduced and tested, and included an Arusha-style windmill constructed by Peace Corps Volunteer Jack Martin and RONAST in 1980, and a Savonius-style vertical axis windmill built by Swiss and Nepali engineers at Balaju Yantra Shala in 1980.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_0cf47b4603fb4b8445a34f99e5fb8de9345b6de8fe6cb15c26835c0b6fdb05e2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250201030220_0cf47b4603fb4b8445a34f99e5fb8de9345b6de8fe6cb15c26835c0b6fdb05e2" data-rendition-name="original" width="1300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>An Arusha-style windmill constructed in 1980 (left), and a Savonius-style vertical axis windmill (right). Photos: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>  The latter was eventually installed and tested in Jomsom by USAID’s Resource Conservation and Utilisation Project (RCUP) in 1981, but came to grief due to high winds. <h2>MICROHYDRO</h2> Micro- and mini-hydropower technologies, although common to Nepal’s urban regions for nearly 70 years, were being disseminated to more rural locations by the 1980s as well.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030232_d73ce5b0ad5d9654016a2dc8c2efd503866c57928e50ecd7c5a0bcffcfcba755.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250201030232_d73ce5b0ad5d9654016a2dc8c2efd503866c57928e50ecd7c5a0bcffcfcba755" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1508" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still beautiful"> <figcaption>A Penstock pipe being installed below Namche Bazar in 1985. Photo: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030220_c841d624c525286ed3449f0dd47c258d81b29e469b61063c8316a6035dc1f6f7.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250201030220_c841d624c525286ed3449f0dd47c258d81b29e469b61063c8316a6035dc1f6f7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1508" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Small is still possible NT"> <figcaption>Namche Bazaar (3,440 m) at night with its first electric lights in 1985, and Mt Thamserku looming above. Photo: ALTON C BYERS</figcaption> </figure>  In 1985, former Peace Corps volunteer Brot Coburn and UNESCO designed and installed the first micro-hydroelectric system in Namche Bazar. It was later washed away by the Dig Tso glacial lake outburst in 1985.&nbsp; <h2>IMPROVED GHATTA</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250201030236_a3ef5bb9385a5da005dbed93179dc09bba74be49e11fcc7dce788a135ea3d41e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250201030236_a3ef5bb9385a5da005dbed93179dc09bba74be49e11fcc7dce788a135ea3d41e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1508" loading="lazy" alt="Smaii ls still possible NT "> <figcaption>Engineers Akkal Man Nakrami and Andreas Bachmann at a workshop in Asan in 1982. Photo: BORT COBURN</figcaption> </figure>  Engineers like Akkal Man Nakrami and Andreas Bachmann &nbsp;developed improved ghatta, or Multi-Purpose Power Units (MPPU), that not only improved traditional grain grinding efficiency, but also produced electricity. For the first time hundreds of villages across the country had access to electricity at night. The more efficient water mills used better designed paddles on ball bearings that could be connected to a dynamo to generate enough power for domestic lighting in remote areas.&nbsp; Alton C Byers, PhD, is the Faculty Research Scientist at the Institute of Arctic and Alpine Research (INSTAAR) at the University of Colorado at Boulder.&nbsp;

Small is still possible

The new year 2025 started literally with a bang. The 7.1M jolt in Xigatse on Tuesday swayed buildings in Kathmandu 400km away, and coincided with the approaching 91st anniversary of the 1934 Great Earthquake. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/be-prepared">National Earthquake Safety Day </a>on 15 January commemorates the 1934 8.3M disaster that killed 10,000 people in Kathmandu, leaving many collapsed buildings. Thousands of people of Kathmandu took shelter in tents in Tundikhel as aftershocks rattled the country (pictured).  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250109070132_0d5b8bd0f1eb0350ec17f6b92a3e37b0b958976292520107b21efb961d883330.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20250109070132_0d5b8bd0f1eb0350ec17f6b92a3e37b0b958976292520107b21efb961d883330" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1066" loading="lazy" alt="Tents"> <figcaption>Tents at Tundikhel housed survivors as aftershocks following the 1934 earthquake rocked the country for days.</figcaption> </figure>  This year is also the tenth anniversary of the 2015 7.8M Gorkha Earthquake that killed 9,000 people in central Nepal. These are all warnings about the ‘seismic gap’ in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/past-disasters-foretold" target="_blank">western Nepal</a> where there has not been a major quake for more than 500 years.&nbsp; That one that is overdue, and for which the country is woefully unprepared. Despite the distance, an 8M earthquake will not spare Kathmandu and other urban centres. “It will be catastrophic, and yet, there is no preparedness among the public or policymakers despite increased awareness,” warns <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/turkey-and-nepal-face-similar-seismic-risks" target="_blank">Surya Narayan Shrestha</a> of the National Society for Earthquake Technology (NSET Nepal) which has been involved in retrofitting public buildings.&nbsp; “The warning of the 2015 earthquake was not heeded, it has not translated into building safer or enforcing building codes,” Shrestha adds.&nbsp; There have been a series of smaller earthquakes in Jajarkot and Bajura in the past year, and it is an indication of the lack of preparedness that even <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/deadly-earthquake-hits-w-nepal" target="_blank">moderate quakes like Jajarkot</a> killed so many and caused so much damage. The National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority (NDRRMA) in its <a href="https://bipad.gov.np/uploads/publication_pdf/EPR_report_July_2022_Final_V4_(1)138720.pdf" target="_blank">Emergency Preparedness and Response Assessment</a> quantified earthquake preparedness levels in 23 municipalities. Kathmandu nearly failed with just 39.8%, while Doti in western Nepal scored the lowest at 11%. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/disastrous-preparedness">Disastrous preparedness</a> ‘This means that most criteria for emergency preparedness and response systems in Nepal are weak,’ stated the 2022 assessment. It underlined severe lack of search and rescue equipment for different hazards, dysfunctional emergency operations center network, and poorly constructed houses and public buildings.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250109070136_f861a5d7d63a10f1650c1cc5607bef14b7f40eb7adc074b122a44c5ed21d1fa6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_7" data-image-id="20250109070136_f861a5d7d63a10f1650c1cc5607bef14b7f40eb7adc074b122a44c5ed21d1fa6" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1140" loading="lazy" alt="Dharara "> <figcaption>Ruins of Dharara tower after the 1934 earthquake. It was later reconstructed which again collapsed in 2015 earthquake killing many.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250109070136_9254062611371e577c9244d975b20f11d3be1033c243299dd719781330ffc2af.jpg" data-media-id="editor_8" data-image-id="20250109070136_9254062611371e577c9244d975b20f11d3be1033c243299dd719781330ffc2af" data-rendition-name="original" width="1380" height="965" loading="lazy" alt="Singha Durbar"> <figcaption>The gate of Singha Darbar after the 8.3M earthquake in 1934.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250109070132_b0373e847d616cadf465173b779a41ee49da008916acc46cf6d6e244a3f560c1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250109070132_b0373e847d616cadf465173b779a41ee49da008916acc46cf6d6e244a3f560c1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1993" loading="lazy" alt="Earthquake"> </figure>  <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/in-a-disastrous-state" target="_blank">Western Nepal</a> has seen a swarm of smaller quakes in the past year, and this could either be releasing some of the tectonic tension, or a warning of a big one to come. The National Earthquake Monitoring and Research Center recorded 10 earthquakes between 4.1-5.2M from 17 December to 3 January, most of them in western Nepal. “We need thousands of these minor tremors or hundreds of moderate 6M earthquakes a year to be able to release the stress that has accumulated beneath western Nepal,” explains <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/a-disaster-resilient-nepal-is-possible" target="_blank">Anil Pokhrel</a>, who heads the NDRRMA.&nbsp; Today, Nepal’s seismic risk is magnified by climate breakdown. Rising temperature is melting glaciers, and turning them into lakes dammed by fragile moraines. A megaquake in the Himalaya increases the risk of multiple Glacial Lake Outburst Floods (GLOFs) downstream. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-mountains-are-melting">Nepal’s mountains are melting</a>, Alton C Byers A few hours before two small glacial lakes burst destroying the village of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/lives-on-the-line-in-the-himalaya" target="_blank">Thame in August</a> last year, a 4.5M earthquake had struck nearby on the Tibetan Plateau. The Journal of Basic and Applied Geomorphology in February 2023 <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0169555X22004329" target="_blank">published a study</a> highlighting how earthquakes exacerbate climate-driven cascade processes of the glacial lakes failure in the Himalaya. ‘Global warming drives glacial retreat, and uncover loose sediment that can be mobilized as debris flows, triggering small glacial lake outbursts in high mountain regions. Sediment generated from earthquake-induced landslides exacerbates the flow magnitude in a valley to increase the disaster risk,’ the paper warns. Of the 47 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/danger-nepal-s-glacial-lakes-are-filling-up" target="_blank">high-risk lakes</a> on glaciers that threaten Nepal, 25 are in China and feed tributaries of the Arun and Bhote Kosi that flow into Nepal. Pokhrel says he initially feared that the Xigatse earthquake on Tuesday would cause glacial lakes in Tibet to burst. He adds, “It is important to be prepared for cascading, complex disasters that combine the climate crisis with earthquakes, permafrost melting, GLOFs, landslides.” Pokhrel was in Thame in August, and says, “The two lakes that burst were the size of Olympic swimming pools and yet managed to wipe out half the village. We have lakes 600 times bigger which are now at a higher risk of bursting in an earthquake due to climate breakdown.”

Alarm in Nepal after Tibet quake

This year’s COP 29 in Baku, the capital of the oil state of Azerbaijan (fossil fuels make up 90% of the country’s exports), was dubbed the ‘finance COP’. The focus of negotiations was on a ‘new collective quantified goal’ (NCQG) for climate finance, which is supposed to support the countries of the Global South in climate change mitigation and adaptation. Current climate funding is indeed totally inadequate, hundreds of billions of dollars per year are needed. 
While international public attention was on the COP negotiations about money, other issues also played a role in Baku, including the climate-peace nexus. Let us have a closer look.
On 15 November, which was the COP 29 ‘Peace, Relief and Recovery Day’, the COP Presidency (Azerbaijan), in collaboration with Egypt, Italy, Germany, Uganda, the UAE and the UK, launched the ‘<a href="https://unfccc.int/sites/default/files/resource/COP29_Letter_to_Parties_and_observers.pdf">Baku Call on Climate Action for Peace, Relief, and Recovery</a>’. It was presented as “<a href="https://cop29.az/en/media-hub/news/cop29-presidency-launches-baku-call-on-climate-action-for-peace-relief-and-recovery">a milestone initiative aimed at addressing the urgent nexus of climate change, conflict, and humanitarian needs</a>. 
It is a response to the growing recognition that climate change’s adverse effects – such as water scarcity, food insecurity, land degradation, displacement, and livelihood disruptions – can act as catalysts for conflict and instability, especially in vulnerable regions”. 
The Baku Call draws attention to the “disproportionate impacts of climate change on the most vulnerable countries and communities”, which at the same time are often the countries and communities which suffer from violent conflict or are particularly fragile and conflict-prone.
The Baku Call addresses several issue areas which link climate change and (potential) conflict, such as water scarcity, food (in)security, land degradation, climate-induced displacement, and the security implications of “loss of land of some states caused by sea level rise, in particular for small low-lying island States”. 
It calls for “risk-informed, conflict-sensitive and peace-positive climate change adaptation and resilience-building measures in vulnerable areas”, and it promises to “foster solutions to mobilize climate finance for the most climate-vulnerable countries and communities affected also by conflict and humanitarian crisis”. 
Finally, the Baku Call established the ‘<a href="https://unfccc.int/sites/default/files/resource/COP29_Letter_to_Parties_and_observers.pdf">Baku Climate and Peace Action Hub</a>’ as a cooperative platform designed to facilitate collaboration between national, regional and international peace and climate initiatives.
The Call builds on the ‘<a href="https://www.cop28.com/en/cop28-declaration-on-climate-relief-recovery-and-peace">COP 28 Declaration on Climate, Relief, Recovery and Peace</a>’ from last year’s COP in the UAE, which in the meantime has been signed by over 90 countries. COP28 had been the first COP at which the linkages of climate change, conflict, peace and security were a prominent topic (with its own Climate, Relief, Recovery and Peace Day on 3 December 2023). 
With its activities and its Declaration, COP28 firmly established the climate/conflict/peace nexus as an issue for future COPs. And it has to be welcomed that this topic played a role again at this year’s COP and in the course of its preparations, with <a href="https://www.ecosystemforpeace.org/cop29">almost three dozen events dealing with the topic</a>, and various international networks (such as the ‘<a href="https://links-europe.eu/bonn-contact-group">Bonn Contact Group on Climate Peace and Security</a> ahead of COP29’ and Peace@COP or the UN’s Climate Security Mechanism) preparing reports and recommendations. 
This flurry of activity, however, cannot disguise the fact that no substantial progress has been made.
The Baku Call does not go beyond the COP28 Declaration, rather, it shares <a href="https://toda.org/global-outlook/2024/cop28-massive-disappointments-slight-glimmers-of-hope.html">the 2023 Declaration’s shortcomings</a>. While it addresses some important issues, commitments regarding actual activities, and financing of such activities, remain vague. 
It is generally acknowledged that fragile and conflict affected states (FCAS), which at the same time are severely affected by climate change, have immense difficulties to access climate funds, due to donor risk aversion. 
For addressing the climate-conflict nexus it would be highly important to “<a href="https://www.sfcg.org/report/navigating-the-peace-and-security-implications-of-climate-change-recommendations-on-the-climate-conflict-nexus-at-cop29/">establish direct access windows</a>” to climate finance for FCAS governments, local governments and civil society, and in particular “remove access barriers for vulnerable communities” in FCAS, at the same time “ensuring that local actors are not just consulted but are equal partners with decision-making authority”. That is missing in the Call.
A tax on the arms trade to finance climate adaptation, and taxing the arms industry more generally to fund climate action would be a good idea to help communities and people in FCAS. But ideas like that did not make it into the Baku Call, which is silent on the climate impacts of arms production, of militaries and wars. 
It is obvious that “<a href="https://www.sfcg.org/report/navigating-the-peace-and-security-implications-of-climate-change-recommendations-on-the-climate-conflict-nexus-at-cop29/">military activity is exacerbating the climate crisis</a>”. But most countries do not mention their militaries’ contributions to their GHG emissions (and in Australia’s 2022 NDCs (Nationally Determined Contributions), for example, the military is explicitly exempted from commitments). Reporting military emissions is voluntary, no country is obliged to report on the emissions caused by its military activities.
The Baku Call fails to address the massive contribution of militaries to the climate crisis and the climate impacts of wars, it does not demand action and accountability from military actors. And the “<a href="https://ceobs.org/what-to-expect-on-militarism-conflict-and-climate-at-cop29/">huge disparity between rising military spending and the developed countries’ unwillingness to mobilise funds for climate action”</a> did not figure in deliberations at COP 29 at all. Nor did the conflict-prone dangers of the green energy transition. 
This transition leads to massively increased demand for certain minerals (e.g. cobalt, lithium, copper). A huge expansion of mining can be expected, which can have massive negative environmental, social and cultural impacts in mining areas. Local, often indigenous, communities will be the victims, and there is an increasing danger of localised conflicts between mining companies, governments and communities.
More generally, the concerns and perspectives of local communities in the Global South, who are most affected by the climate emergency, did not matter in the COP29 discussions, and consequently, issues of climate, conflict and peace that go beyond Western, state-based, international hegemonic understandings and framings, were not talked about: structural, cultural, epistemic violence and more-than-human security and peace. 
Western anthropocentric understandings of climate, conflict and peace dominate the international climate/peace discourse, in Baku and beyond. Even if the aim to include peace and conflict into official COP negotiations in the future will be achieved, and even if there will be a ‘peace COP’, it is hard to imagine that it will take non-hegemonic, non-Western understandings of the issues at hand on board. 
This, however, would be indispensable in the interest of peace and the planet, given that “we are on a highway to climate hell with our foot still on the accelerator” according to the UN Secretary General Antonio Guterres. 
Let us not forget: 2023 was the hottest year on record, 2024 will be hotter still. Earth is heading towards 3 degrees Celsius of global heating – well beyond the COP 2015 Paris agreement’s threshold of 1.5C. Fossil fuel production has reached new highs, fossil fuel exporting countries, like Australia, keep approving and subsidising massive fossil fuel projects. Donald Trump will become US-President. It does not look good for the climate, the planet, and for peace.
 Volker Boege was Senior Research Fellow at Toda Peace Institute.
This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and is being republished from <a href="https://toda.org/global-outlook/2024/cop-29-the-climate-peace-nexus-was-on-the-agenda-but.html">the original</a> with their permission.

Climate and conflicts

Thirty years ago, two years after the Rio Conference on Environment and Development in 1992, a joint research project by Swisspeace and ETH Zurich came to the following conclusion: "The dramatic intensification of global, regional and local environmental crises is making ecological destruction an increasingly important factor in conflicts."&nbsp;
At that time, field research focused on the conflict potential of drought and desertification in the Sahel, of international rivers (for example, in Central Asia) and of destructive mining (including the copper mine on Bougainville).&nbsp;
Among other things, one dissertation dealt with the contribution of the human-ecological stress situation on the "thousand hills" of Rwanda to the genocide of spring 1994. CO2 emissions and climatic changes only emerged nebulously on the horizon as factors influencing crises and conflicts.
Meanwhile, "climate change" is pushing all other issues into the background. When run-down regimes, such as the one in Syria, blame all problems in the country on global climate change, you have to ask whether everything is going right.&nbsp;
It was precisely this question that was critically examined at a recent joint symposium in Hamburg organised by the Institute for Peace Research and Security Policy at the University of Hamburg and the Toda Peace Institute.&nbsp;
Researchers from the Pacific Islands Countries of Fiji, Tuvalu, Cook Islands, Samoa and Vanuatu, in dialogue with participants from Germany, Japan, Australia, New Zealand, Finland, Norway and Denmark, among others, underlined the complex and multi-layered threats to the Pacific islands.&nbsp;
The action-oriented researchers opposed international "climate reductionism" and the deterministic view associated with it, according to which rising seas would mean the inevitable demise of the island world.&nbsp;
The indigenous populations counter the doomsday fantasies with an alternative narrative that draws on their rich philosophical and spiritual sources. This seems to be one of the reasons why, despite the enormous challenges, the indigenous people radiate an astonishing serenity and, contrary to the widespread 'victim' narrative, point to their own 'agency'. The indigenous researchers postulate: &nbsp;
"The whole thing must be preserved!"
The term "(Pasifika) relationality" is intended to highlight the deep and ultimately boundless relationships between man and nature, past and future, ancestors and future generations. The individual only exists as part of the whole. Or, as one participant from Samoa put it, "We have no land, we are the land. We have no sea, we are the sea."&nbsp;
The land is "the anchor of our identity", added a participant from Fiji. This means that the indigenous population has no choice but to use all their physical and spiritual strength and the innovative application of traditional knowledge that spans generations in order to maintain their "place" together with the graves of their ancestors on the land they have inherited.&nbsp;
Resettlements—if at all possible—from coastal to higher areas, for example, are therefore painful and traumatic events. It is important that resettlement is a community decision and that it is taken voluntarily and after all other adaptation steps have been exhausted. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
The indigenous people certainly see climate change as a major challenge. It is not only causing the sea to rise, but also an increase in devastating cyclones and other extreme weather events. These cause them more concern in their everyday lives than the supposed sinking of the islands. Islands are not the Titanic. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
The indigenous people experience the threat and the possible loss of their "place" in a double sense: &nbsp;
<ul>
 <li>Climate change affects the indigenous population in the form of structural violence, which is the fault of the industrialised countries and the former colonial rulers. The violence, which is perceived as global injustice, manifests itself as a growing gap between the current situation and what is possible and feasible in the future to lead the island world into a secure future.</li>
 <li>The current and expected loss of livelihoods leads to social upheaval and political tensions, especially when local governments allow themselves to be taken in by the former colonial rulers for quick "solutions" without consultation. These include evacuations, resettlement programs and forced forms of climate migration, for example, to Australia, New Zealand and the USA (especially Hawaii). The loss of land brought about by "false emergency aid" and local politics is perceived by the indigenous people as "cultural violence", which threatens the very core of the community by breaking up the holistic relationality.</li>
</ul>
Structural or cultural violence does not necessarily lead to physical or armed violence. As the Pacific islanders impressively demonstrate, they are trying to achieve innovative and peaceful results through dialogue, resilience and international diplomacy. So far, only Bougainville has seen a major civil war in the greater region, which was partly caused in the 1990s by the catastrophic environmental impact of a copper mine operated by Rio Tinto Zinc. &nbsp;
For comparison, in other geographical contexts, massive acts of violence can also be attributed to environmental changes. As the civil war and mass displacement in Darfur (West Sudan) show, the increasing pressure on land resources, changing land use rights and patterns, pronounced droughts and climate-induced desertification have fueled inter-tribal as well as regional and cross-border violent conflicts.&nbsp;
With the help of the military junta of El Bashir, these culminated in the genocidal civil war that broke out in 2004, displacing millions of people. As the then leader of the janjaweed militia and war criminal Hemeti could not be handed over to the ICC, he is still able to reduce Sudan to rubble in a power struggle with General Burhan; he is doing this not least with the help of the Wagner Group and the subsequent Russian Africa Corps, which is particularly keen on the gold mines in North Darfur.&nbsp;
What is happening in Darfur today applies to the entire Sahel region: fragile statehood, military coups, terrorist and criminal violence and dysfunctional gerontocracies (Cameroon) now characterise an entire region of the world where livelihoods are already under widespread threat from climate change and local environmental degradation. &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
Learning from the Pacific way could also be a constructive approach elsewhere that strives for peace, security and sustainability. Against the backdrop of potential conflicts and an island population that has become vulnerable, the widely supported "Toda Pacific Declaration on Climate Change, Conflict and Peace" of 2018 is a milestone. After an introductory description of the problem, it states: "Therefore, responses to climate change adaptation require both conflict prevention measures and conflict-sensitive approaches that prioritize local contexts and the maintenance of peace."&nbsp;
A whole list of concrete measures follows, ranging from the adaptation of international environmental law and the reduction of greenhouse gas emissions to local, culturally adapted and nature-related activities. "Rights of nature" are contrasted with an anthropocentric exploitation scheme. The motto is to grow together and not at the expense of others (other people and other non-human living beings as well as future generations). &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
Those who are literally in danger of losing the ground under their feet should remember their roots. "After me, the deluge" has never and nowhere been a sensible answer.
Günther Baechler, PhD, was head of the joint research project by Swisspeace and ETHZ project in the 1990s: Environmental Degradation and Conflict. After 2007, he returned to Darfur as Switzerland's special envoy. He was a mediator in the "Doha Process" led by the UN and the AU.&nbsp;
&nbsp;This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and is being republished from <a href="https://toda.org/global-outlook/2024/we-have-no-land-we-are-the-land.-we-have-no-sea-we-are-the-sea.html">the original</a> with their permission.

We Have No Land, We Are The Land. We Have No Sea, We Are The Sea

Nepalis worship the sun, and mark its seasonal passage with festivals. Adding to that spiritual reverence now is the economic relevance of solar power. Fast-flowing Himalayan rivers give Nepal a total feasible hydropower generation capacity of 48,000MW, of which only 3,600 has so far been harnessed. Yet, Nepal’s total solar power potential has been calculated to be nearly 10 times higher at 432,000MW. &nbsp; With over 300 days of sunshine a year, the country could produce 3.6 to 6.2 units of electricity per square meter based on its solar radiation levels.&nbsp; This potential, combined with decreasing installation costs of Chinese-manufactured photovoltaic cells and other means, is a viable and affordable alternative to Nepal’s over-reliance on hydropower which faces concerns about the destruction of riverine ecosystems, as well as risk from glacial lake floods caused by climate breakdown. However, restrictive domestic energy policies and geopolitical sensitivities mean Nepal is failing to diversify fast enough to tap this tremendous solar energy potential. Nepal’s hydropower generation is almost entirely from run-of-river projects that do not have large reservoirs. Many such projects in Nepal and across the Himalaya have been swept away by glacial lake outburst floods in recent years.&nbsp; Such risks and limitations to hydropower should have prompted the Nepal government to jump-start investment into solar farms, but the main reason is that the Nepal Electricity Authority (NEA) caps solar power at just 10% of total capacity. There is no official explanation, but it is likely due to the outdated perception that solar technology cannot supply a consistent energy stream at evening and morning peak loads.&nbsp; But today, there are plenty of ways around it, including pump storage schemes that use daytime solar power to pump water from a river to a reservoir and drain it to generate electricity at night. Battery technology is now more advanced, and affordable enough to make grid-scale batteries feasible.&nbsp; But then there is an issue of tariffs, which are much lower for solar at Rs5 per energy unit, and competitive bidding forces companies to lower it even further. But there is no bidding process for hydropower and licenses are given out on a first-come, first-served basis with a fixed rate of Rs6.5 per unit regardless of location.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025112303118_c3280cddae6f3305d07319011dd9c187005822a9b905bb849c36b95e3ad0d516.png" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2025112303118_c3280cddae6f3305d07319011dd9c187005822a9b905bb849c36b95e3ad0d516" data-rendition-name="original" width="1109" height="887" loading="lazy" alt="Here comes the sun"> </figure>  SUPPLY VS DEMAND Hydropower is supply-driven, while solar responds to demand, so under such a discouraging scenario, solar power accounts for only 5% of Nepal’s total energy mix. “Given the environmental risks to hydropower, investors are now demanding tariffs on hydropower to be increased. So the question to the government is, are you paying more money for hydropower or willing to buy more of the cheaper solar power,” said energy entrepreneur Kushal Gurung. Solar investors are lobbying the government to raise the cap on solar power to 30% and expand zoning policies so that solar plants can be built in areas with high potential, such as Dolpo and Mustang in the trans-Himalaya. These regions are sparsely populated, arid, have a cold climate and high solar radiation levels — ideal conditions for photovoltaics. Solar power’s biggest advantage is its cost-effectiveness compared to hydropower, with the operating cost of a hydropower plant up to four times higher than of a solar plant of the same generation capacity. Investors are no longer assured of a return on investment on hydropower due to climate risk which have increased insurance premiums. “Last year, when the government opened a bidding for 800MW of solar power, the private sector was ready to invest 3,000MW. Both banks and investors were convinced about the potential for solar energy, but the government and especially the bureaucracy, was not on the same wavelength,” added Gurung.&nbsp; Interim Energy Minister Kulman Ghising is said to be interested in increasing the cap on solar energy, but there is a question whether he will remain in office since he has launched his only Ujyalo Nepal party to contest elections in March. GEOGRAPHY AND GEOPOLITICS In 2018, Nepal’s only foreign private equity form Dolma Himalayan Climate Fund (DHCF) pitched a proposal to generate 150MW from a solar farm and store 20MW of it in battery systems in Mustang to meet seasonal and daily peaks. It got approval from Investment Board Nepal (IBN) and had already poured millions into the project when the Department of Mines instructed all developers in Mustang to halt their projects, citing the discovery of uranium ore. But insiders say the real reason was due to pressure from the Chinese government’s security concerns about a Western investor being involved so close to the border with Tibet.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025112303118_5946a5f1ba63f34c88f900c6d12b37d0101effb76e8a7a5397cd6451c16cd5b2.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2025112303118_5946a5f1ba63f34c88f900c6d12b37d0101effb76e8a7a5397cd6451c16cd5b2" data-rendition-name="original" width="800" height="450" loading="lazy" alt="Here comes the sun NT"> <figcaption>Photo: GHAM POWER</figcaption> </figure>  The same thing happened, but in reverse, when the Chinese company Risen Energy was interested in investing $190 million on a grid-connected 125MW photovoltaic generation system in Banke and Kapilvastu districts near the Indian border. Risen’s subsidiary, Risen Energy Singapore JV, was negotiating with IBN to commit $190 million in the project which would also store 20MW of daytime generation for morning and evening peak demand. But the agreement was not signed because the Indian authorities were concerned about Chinese involvement so close to their border. India has also refused to buy electricity from any hydropower plant in Nepal that has Chinese or other foreign investment or contractors. Indian state-owned companies are currently building or planning hydropower plants in Nepal to generate nearly 3,000MW, mostly for export.&nbsp; But not every Chinese-backed project has been blocked. In 2024, China handed over two solar-powered livelihood projects to a local community in Lalitpur — a community solar bathhouse and a rooftop photovoltaic power system. Funded by the Yunnan People’s Association for Friendship with Foreign Countries, the projects aim to improve living conditions. The initiative forms part of the Chinese Embassy’s ‘Happy Community’ program (幸福社区, Xìngfú Shèqū) under the China–South Asia Poverty Reduction and Development Cooperation Center.&nbsp; Says Gurung: “Hydropower is a geopolitical mess, but it has well and truly started in solar power too. It now all comes down to how we handle it, and we need deft diplomacy to make sure our projects are not indefinitely delayed as has happened in the past.”&nbsp; LOW-HANGING FRUIT Despite domestic restrictions and geopolitics, there are still small-scale opportunities for solar energy entrepreneurs to cash in, such as net metering. Most industries in Nepal have enough rooftop space to generate 500KW to 1MW of solar energy. Combined, they would generate a substantial amount of energy to feed into the grid. Factories, supermarkets and chain stores are often bankable and trusted by financial institutions from which they could easily get credit.&nbsp; China could also take advantage of Nepal’s high solar power potential. Given that the United States has only imposed a 10% tariff on Nepal, China could set up PV manufacturing plants in Nepal.&nbsp; However, this requires government-to-government which could run into trouble, again because of geopolitics. The same applies for the Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism which is a carbon tariff on carbon intensive products, such as steel, cement and some electricity, imported to the European Union.&nbsp; Chinese products have suffered under this mechanism but Chinese products made in Nepal can be competitive in the European market given lower carbon tax for Nepal. Clean energy has long been an area where Nepal hopes to attract Chinese investment — not only in hydropower, but also in solar and wind energy.&nbsp; With contributions from Qian Sun, Global Voices.&nbsp;

Nepal, here comes the sun

There were two Bhutans on display during Narendra Modi’s visit this month. The first: a trusted partner, modernising rapidly with Indian support, inaugurating hydroelectric projects, and signing healthcare deals. The second: a nation that <a href="https://www.fmreview.org/gazmere-bishwo/#:~:text=In%201990%2D91%2C%20about%20a,are%20therefore%20not%20Bhutanese%20citizens.">ethnically cleansed 17% of its population </a>and has never been held accountable.
Modi chose to see only the <a href="https://kuenselonline.com/news/pm-modi-concludes-bhutan-visit-with-prayers-for-peace-and-prosperity">first </a>during his <a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/india-announces-rs-4000-cr-concessional-credit-line-to-fund-energy-projects-in-bhutan/articleshow/125253915.cms?utm_source=contentofinterest&amp;utm_medium=text&amp;utm_campaign=cppst">11-12 November visit</a>, granting $450 million in credit, offering birthday tributes to Fourth King Jigme Singye Wangchuk, and inaugurating another hydropower project.
New Delhi has opted for strategic silence on Bhutan’s systematic persecution of the Lhotshampas in the 1990s. The displaced remain scattered across the world and in refugee camps in Nepal, their property seized, their citizenship revoked.&nbsp;
Now, on that same contested land Bhutan is building the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/small-bhutan-dreams-big">Gelephu Mindful City (GMC)</a>, a megaproject intended to <a href="https://kuenselonline.com/news/pm-modi-announces-inr-40-billion-credit-line-new-rail-links-and-land-for-bhutanese-temple-in-varanasi">connect directly to Indian infrastructure</a>. The victims are gone, and democratic India’s values remain conspicuously absent.&nbsp;
With no Lhotshampas left to challenge the official narrative and India unwilling to raise it, Bhutan continues to suppress dissent with impunity.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, social media influencer Raghu Pati Subedi was arrested on the Assam side of Gelephu after returning from a visit to relatives in India. His family members reportedly came under intense pressure, including threats of arrest, accusing them of hiding his whereabouts. After his arrest, he was transported to Thimphu and imprisoned.
This was not an isolated incident. It is part of systemic repression that first gained international attention in the 1990s, when over 100,000 Nepali-speaking Lhotshampa were systematically stripped of their citizenship and forcibly exiled. This mass expulsion, which human rights organisations have characterised as ethnic cleansing, created a decades-long refugee crisis that continues to define the regional political and human rights landscape.&nbsp;
EXODUS
The Lhotshampa crisis of the 1990s was not a spontaneous event but the culmination of years of state-led discrimination. Through a series of legislative acts, notably the 1985 Citizenship Act and the 1989 Driglam Namzha, the ‘One Nation, One People’ policy, the Bhutanese state systematically dismantled the rights of its Nepali-speaking citizens.&nbsp;
The use of the Nepali language was suppressed, the traditional dress of the ruling ethnic group was mandated, and citizenship was revoked en masse, rendering a significant portion of the population stateless in their own homeland.
The new manuscript I am editing has harrowing accounts by the authors of those atrocities. The parallels with what happened to Subedi recently are striking and troubling, showing that even after 35 years the regime has not changed its spots. The methods may have evolved, but the repression against dissidents remains disturbingly consistent.
This refugee exodus was an immense and unasked-for burden on Nepal. Despite being a country grappling with its own political instability and limited resources, Nepal accommodated them on humanitarian grounds. Nepal has consistently advocated for a durable solution centered on the refugees’ right to safe, voluntary, and dignified repatriation.
For years, it engaged in bilateral talks with Bhutan, culminating in a joint verification process. However, these efforts ultimately foundered on what Nepal described as ‘continued rigidity and non-implementation of the agreed decisions by the Bhutanese side’.
Nepal fulfilled its moral and humanitarian duty, but the international community largely failed to hold Bhutan accountable. Bhutan’s rulers deflected global attention with the masterful narrative of Gross National Happiness (GNH), while the grim reality in the refugee camps persisted.&nbsp;
Ultimately, with repatriation proving impossible, Nepal acquiesced to a third-country resettlement program led by a group of eight countries, including the United States, Canada, and Australia. From 2007 to 2016, more than 113,500 Bhutanese refugees were resettled in <a href="https://www.unhcr.org/media/nepal-factsheet">one of the largest group resettlement programmes globally</a>, though 6,365 remain in refugee camps in eastern Nepal.
While this solution provided a lifeline for thousands, it was a tragic capitulation to Bhutan’s ethnic homogenisation project. The refugees’ right to return to their homeland has been denied. It is a cautionary tale about the limits of international diplomacy in the face of state intransigence.
Bhutan’s global brand is one of its most successful exports. The <a href="https://www.gnhcentrebhutan.org/">Gross National Happiness </a>doctrine, which promotes holistic well-being over just economic growth, has captivated the Western imagination and policymakers. It offers a vision of a mindful, environmentally conscious, and peaceful Himalayan kingdom. This carefully cultivated image has historically aimed to shield Bhutan from the level of scrutiny applied to other nations with similar human rights records.
The GNH facade, however, cracks under the weight of documented evidence. The same kingdom that champions ‘happiness’ has, for decades, maintained a justice system that human rights groups allege relies on torture, coerced confessions, and draconian laws to silence opposition.
The 1992 National Security Act, with its vague definitions of ‘treasonable acts’ against the Tsa-Wa-Sum (King, Country, and People), has been a primary tool for suppressing political dissent, particularly from the Lhotshampa.
Overlooked by the international community and ignored by global powers including India, in responding robustly to the ethnic cleansing of the 1990s sent a clear message to Thimphu: such actions could be undertaken with impunity. The monarchy emerged unscathed, its reputation burnished rather than tarnished.&nbsp;
This historical impunity now echoes in the case of Raghu Pati Subedi and the <a href="https://www.cijnepal.org/new-list-of-political-prisoners-expected-to-set-off-discussion-on-bhutans-human-rights-record">continued imprisonment of dozens of political prisoners</a> of conscience. The global community’s reluctance to challenge the GNH narrative has, in effect, become a form of complicity.
The arrest and sentencing of a social media influencer demonstrates how old tactics have been adapted for the digital age. Subedi, 40, was a new kind of threat to the state-controlled narrative and he had to be made an example of.&nbsp;
As the founder and administrator of the popular Facebook page ‘The Don of Asia’, he bypassed traditional, state-influenced media to speak directly to about 78,000 followers. His content, informational and satirical videos on rural poverty, corruption, and the GMC project, was the kind of social media activism that was deemed intolerable.
Subedi was arrested in early 2025 and sentenced to 24 years in prison. The charges allegedly stemmed from Subedi’s social media criticism of the GMC, a flagship project of Nepal-born Bhutanese fifth King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck.&nbsp;
For <a href="https://thenewamericansmag.com/2024/11/18/the-kings-gelephu-mindfulness-city/#:~:text=Ganga%20Lamitare%2C%20who%20owns%20four,ancestors%20in%20building%20the%20nation.">Bhutanese refugees like Gangaram Lamitare</a>, the GMC represents a bitter irony, a development rising on their confiscated ancestral lands.&nbsp;
Gangaram, who owns four acres where the GMC’s international airport is now under construction, says: “Many people from villages fled at night in 1990, leaving everything behind to escape oppression. Now, the Bhutanese king and ministers are spreading falsehoods worldwide, calling this land vacant, which actually belongs to those forced to leave the country.”&nbsp;
There are signs that international support that has benefited Bhutan may be waning. The United Nations has become increasingly vocal and last year the <a href="https://www.ohchr.org/sites/default/files/documents/issues/detention-wg/opinions/session101/a-hrc-wgad-60-2024-bhutan-advance-edited-ve.pdf">UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention</a> said the detention of several Bhutanese political prisoners was arbitrary and illegal under international law.&nbsp;
In April 2025 from a group of six UN human rights experts raised grave concerns about the use of torture, denial of fair trials, and the ‘severe chilling effect’ of Bhutan’s legal framework on civic space. These developments owe much to the consistent advocacy of the Hague-based Global Campaign for the Release of Political Prisoners in Bhutan (GCRPPB) since its formation.
However, they also reflect broader shifts in international human rights scrutiny. This places Bhutan’s key international partners, particularly the European Union, in a critical position. Bhutan enjoys lucrative benefits under the EU’s ‘Everything but Arms’ trade scheme, which grants developing countries tariff-free access to the EU market contingent on respect for human rights.&nbsp;
The EU is also a significant provider of development aid to Bhutan which provides it with substantial leverage. In April 2025, members of the <a href="https://bsky.app/profile/saskiabricmont.bsky.social/post/3lmrn5mkmrs2q">European Parliament formally called on Bhutan</a> to release all political prisoners. This action signals a growing recognition that trade and partnership cannot be divorced from human rights obligations.&nbsp;
“Bhutan’s international partners and investors, including the EU, should make it clear that they expect Bhutan to comply with its human rights obligations and release them without further delay,” says Meenakshi Ganguly, of Human Rights Watch.&nbsp;
Bhutan stands at a crossroads. Its desire for deeper global economic integration is colliding with its unresolved history of human rights abuses. The international community now has a choice: either continue being charmed by the myth of a happy shangri-la or insist that the kingdom adheres to democratic values it professes to the world.&nbsp;
Nepal’s recent Gen-Z uprising offers a lesson to Bhutan. In September, when authorities attempted to ban 26 social media, Nepali youth took to the streets and, within hours, toppled the entire pro-establishment political apparatus. Their message was clear: in an age of digital connectivity and mass mobilisation, authoritarian tactics such as detaining social media influencers are both unjust and ultimately unsustainable.
This incident echoes the prophetic warnings of Devi Bhakta Lamitare, Bhutan’s first-generation democratic leader, who died in exile in India in 2022. In his seminal 1970 book
Dankindo Bhutan, Lamitare chronicled the systematic suppression of people’s rights and envisioned a path toward liberation.
Before his death, I worked with him to update and edit this work, which the Bhutan Media Society published posthumously in 2023. In a December 2020 interview I conducted for the book on the Ganga riverbank in Haridwar, Lamitare laid out a stark three-front offensive: political mobilisation from within India to awaken resistance inside Bhutan itself, relentless pressure on New Delhi to champion democracy, and a global ‘pamphlet war’ waged by resettled Bhutanese in the West.&nbsp;
Only through such sustained action, he argues, can Bhutanese citizens win the right to choose their own rulers, a principle India, the world’s largest democracy, should be championing, not abandoning.
Binod Dhungel is the Nepal correspondent for Reporters Without Borders.
<a href="http://linkedin.com/in/dhungelbinod" target="_blank">linkedin.com/in/dhungelbinod</a>, @BinodDhungel

Bhutan imprisons social media influencer

Groundwater is like a phone battery, it needs to be regularly recharged. As springs go dry across the Himalayan foothills due to over-extraction and climate change, communities in eastern Nepal are reviving traditional knowledge to replenish aquifers. The town of Dhankuta is located along the spine of a ridge and is struggling with its water supply. Unregulated pumping is one reason, and weather extremes due to climate breakdown is the other. Since water is so important for life, necessity has become the mother of invention here. More accurately, it is the mother of re-invention — since recharging ground water is a traditional practice that has been discontinued. Communities are practicing sustainable water management again by reviving recharge ponds that had fallen into disuse as well as rainwater recycling. Some of these indigenous practices have eroded over time with outmigration and modernisation. The nearby village of Khambela is dominated by the indigenous Aathpahariya Rai community and is building on its ancestral practice of rainwater harvesting with new technology developed by the group, SmartPaani.&nbsp; Households collect rainwater during four monsoon months in tanks of up to 10,000 litres for household use and irrigating &nbsp;vegetable patches in the dry season.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251124031112_b48e18e9c85ed460210d475041dce6ba5917ab31db0a16aca2c8e0f0356c9038.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251124031112_b48e18e9c85ed460210d475041dce6ba5917ab31db0a16aca2c8e0f0356c9038" data-rendition-name="original" width="1125" height="1500" loading="lazy" alt="Storing rain inside mountains NT"> </figure>  “The rainwater harvesting installation here uses a rapid sand filter system that allows rainwater to move rapidly through the builtin filtration unit,” says Jyotsna Lama from Kathmandu-based SmartPaani. “The clean water is stored in tanks for future use.” The initiative is supported by the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD) and local municipalities. Local households contribute Rs50 a month for maintenance. “During the rainy season there is enough water in the wells and springs,” says a local farmer Sangita Rai. “But storing monsoon rain is enough to last the whole dry season.” Dhankuta town itself has a recharge pond at Sukepokhari, which itself means ‘dry pond’. &nbsp;The 24m diameter pond can hold up to 200,000 litres and lets it seep slowly to recharge the aquifer. One in four springs in &nbsp;Dhankuta have dried up, and Sukepokhari is helping revive them.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251124031112_0db2a186eec5194d37492066e6d0b939569254e8feca6c6dd757d28147267b2f.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251124031112_0db2a186eec5194d37492066e6d0b939569254e8feca6c6dd757d28147267b2f" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Storing rain inside mountains NT"> <figcaption>Sukepokhari</figcaption> </figure>  The mountains around Dhankuta act like a sponge, absorbing water in the dry season and letting it out through springs. But water started becoming scarce when the town’s expanding population started pumping up water. Plastic waste and other pollutants contaminated the remaining water. Sukepokhari’s caretaker is Krishna Kumar Thakuri, fondly known as ‘Pani Ba’ by locals who regard him as a passionate father figure. He regularly monitors rainfall and the water level in the pond to gauge how much of it is seeping into the ground to recharge the groundwater.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025112403118_b412598c4473f2bb33900bab7e2084f584e7e88c1a92f6b9c09e940e23e4ce29.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2025112403118_b412598c4473f2bb33900bab7e2084f584e7e88c1a92f6b9c09e940e23e4ce29" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1475" loading="lazy" alt="Storing rain inside mountains NT"> <figcaption>Caretaker of Sukepokhari Krishna Kumar Thakuri fondly known as Pani Ba.</figcaption> </figure>  “We harvest rain that falls in the surrounding slopes,” explains Thakuri. “But a lot of leaves, vegetation and sediment also flows into the pond and has to be desilted every year.” The pond provides drinking water to around 150-200 households and enables irrigation to 10 households in surrounding areas. Water from the pond further flows and supports springs down the mountains.&nbsp; Off the walking trail is Dale Pokhari, another recharge pond in the scenic village of Dhojedanda. After the pond was revived two springs sprang back into life again, supplying water to six households. “There used to be multiple springs and water sources, and biodiversity was diverse, but as people started to dig up wells and drag water sources to their homes via plastic pipes, the water sources started drying up,” explains Phurba Sherpa. But now there is more water flowing out of springs.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251124031112_dd71cdc337f6275b179fdab9ded358a1dcdb53c5e286d493aa2182e3f35ce32e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251124031112_dd71cdc337f6275b179fdab9ded358a1dcdb53c5e286d493aa2182e3f35ce32e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Storing rain inside mountains NT"> <figcaption>Dalepokhari</figcaption> </figure>  WATER IS LIFE Syaule-Sipting Homestay in Dhankuta has been using water sustainably after facing shortages. It has now built a bio-sand filtration system in the water tanks, so that water is safe for use by four households One of the homestays also uses a rainwater harvesting system. While the bio-sand and rainwater harvesting are used for cooking, washing and other purposes, table top filtration systems are used for drinking. Adequate safe drinking water is also helpful to revive the area’s eco-tourism potential. Safe drinking water is important so visitors are not turned off, says Anu K Lama of ICIMOD. She adds, “Health and hygiene are important for everyone. But foreigners do not have the strong immune system that locals have. Clean and adequate supply is necessary especially if we are targetting foreign guests.”