In Telangana, a case of missing the woods
In the UoH Kancha Gachibowli affair, revenue seems a bigger priority for the state government than environmental and social capital
Over the past few days, the University of Hyderabad (UoH) felt the tremors of relentless bulldozing of the shrub forest abutting it. Cries of peacocks, of the many “insignificant’ beings”, and the sound of rocks and boulders that are millions of years old being crushed accompanied this. But this destruction directed by the government of Telangana -- aimed at auctioning 400 acres of UoH-Kancha Gachibowli land to private parties -- has been met by the tremors of UoH student protests to save this biodiverse space. These tremors were felt across the nation and indeed moved the Supreme Court to take immediate action and stop the reckless destruction of the area’s ecology.

These 400 acres, part of the 2,300 acres allotted to UoH in 1975 that are demarcated specifically for educational purposes, had been under dispute since the early 2000s. After a long legal battle, the 400 acres were granted by the Supreme Court to the government of Telangana in mid-2024.
The state government has invoked every institutional apparatus in its power to argue that the 400 acres of land in Kancha Gachibowli are not a classified forest. Chief minister Revanth Reddy’s remark that there were only foxes in and around the area but no tigers and deer sparked much debate and ridicule. The government has also insisted that the auction of this land is in the interest of development and would create lakhs of jobs.
It is true that the green patch in UoH-Kancha Gachibowli is not officially classified as a forest. However, an avid birder has pointed out that the number of birds on the UoH campus is higher than that of Mrugavani Park, a designated national park on the outskirts of Hyderabad. A number of animals, rare insects, snakes, other reptiles, lakes, rock formations, native shrubs, and small and rare plants make this campus, including the disputed 400 acres, one of the most biodiverse regions in the city and arguably even around it. It gives the city a much-needed green space and precious ecological balance. The government’s claim that the iconic Mushroom Rock and the two lakes of the campus will not be touched but protected makes little sense once construction obstructs the natural catchment areas. How can one isolate a rock and two lakes from the ecosystem that sustains everything? The government’s argument that this is a classified “Kancha” land, meaning grazing land/land of no use seems bizarre to anyone who has been on campus. A land that was grazing land during the times of the Nizams, has been under the custodianship of UoH for the last 50 years. In these 50 years, the grazing land has grown into a biodiversity hotspot — all because it was protected within the boundaries of the University.
This patch of abundant greenery means more than anyone can imagine not just to people like me, who have lived on this beautiful, intellectually satisfying, and revolutionary campus for more than 25 years, but also for students who have just spent two years of their lives during their Master’s programme.
A couple of things are perplexing for many. First, how exactly does the government view development? Given that the 400 acres sit right in the middle of the financial and IT hub of Gachibowli, they definitely mean serious money, likely an amount unimaginable for graduates from this public university. But then, does not education, and by extension, a fulfilling space to impart it, not mean development? How can one dissociate education and educational spaces from development? Are these not a crucial metric of a country’s growth across the world? Try and imagine any of the developed nations of the West without their hallowed university campuses. A vision of development through public education seems to be nowhere in the state government’s imagination.
Second, who exactly will be the beneficiaries of this development, and is there no other land to achieve the development goal envisaged?
Third, the claim of the government that the land belongs to it and it alone has the right to dispose of the land in a manner it deems fit defies logic. What does it mean when something belongs to the government? When one says the land is the government’s, does it imply that the land doesn’t belong to the people? Do people have no stake in it? Does it mean the thousands of students protesting have no stake in the space they study in? That the protesting students were beaten, lathi-charged, detained, and had charges filed against them (before eventually saying it will withdraw these) speaks of the brutality of the State. But the shallowness of the ruling dispensation’s stand gets underlined when it calls the protesters “politically motivated”.
It seems that for the Telangana government, a few hundred-crores of rupees in revenue and a hazy promise of infrastructure-led development are a bigger priority than the rich environmental and social capital that accrue from a green space within which thousands of students benefit from public education every year and contribute in great measure to society. Neither biodiversity nor a vision of an ecologically-friendly Hyderabad are motivations for it.
Sowmya Dechamma CC is a professor at the University of Hyderabad. The views expressed are personal
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