Focus on Arts and Ecology

The Cascabel project could deliver the world’s largest underground silver mine, but questions remain over environmental oversight and community relocation. 

By Isabel Alarcón, May 14, 2026

The Ecuadorian province of Imbabura is poised to become the epicentre of a major copper mining transformation, which will require the removal of dozens of families. The project in question is named Cascabel, control of which has passed into the hands of Jiangxi Copper Corp, China’s largest copper cathodes producer. Following a long gestation period, Cascabel could be about to accelerate towards construction.

The largest copper mining project in the country, Cascabel would exploit Ecuador’s northern Andean copper belt, specifically the Alpala and Tandayama-América deposits. It occupies 5,000 hectares in Imbabura, which is near Ecuador’s border with Colombia. According to the government, Cascabel could ultimately deliver the world’s largest underground silver mine, third largest gold mine and sixth largest copper mine.

Although this project has been in the works for almost two decades, 2026 could prove decisive, Hugo Arnal, director of sustainability at SolGold, tells Dialogue Earth.

Cascabel had been an asset of Australia’s SolGold, in which Jiangxi Copper Corp (JCC) previously had a 12% stake – the largest share. In the final days of 2025, JCC announced it had finalised the acquisition of SolGold in a deal worth USD 1.2 billion. In a statement, JCC said Cascabel “has the potential to contribute immense value” to global mineral supplies. The transaction was formalised in March 2026.

Beyond the mining world, however, Cascabel is a source of controversy. Some 300 people will need to be relocated to make way for Ecuador’s latest “supermine”, while environmental experts fear the project is moving forward amid a lack of environmental oversight.

Mining boom

According to data shared with Dialogue Earth by the Mining Chamber of Ecuador, the sector’s exports generated USD 3.23 billion between January and October 2025. Mined materials are the country’s fourth most lucrative export (excluding oil products) after shrimp, cocoa and bananas.  

The Mirador copper project and Fruta del Norte gold mine are the country’s two other large-scale mining projects.

Arnal tells Dialogue Earth that studies are underway in pursuit of Cascabel’s environmental licence for the exploitation phase: “We want to demonstrate that responsible mining is possible by minimising environmental impacts and maximising social benefits. We estimate that the footprint of our infrastructure and the affected areas will be less than 630 hectares.”

However, conservation advocates and organisations are concerned about the lack of public information on the project and its potential impacts. Dialogue Earth talked to José Cueva of the National Anti-Mining Front (FNA), an NGO supporting communities threatened by extractive activities. He says that, despite its large scale, the project is “moving forward in secrecy”. He claims: “This is a project about which very little is known.”

The proposed start dates have been repeatedly moved. SolGold tells Dialogue Earth that mining at the Tandayama-América deposit will now begin three years earlier than planned, in 2028. This will be open-pit mining, which yields resources sooner because it does not require tunnelling underground. The company adds that a larger underground mine will begin extraction in 2032.

Environmental oversight faltering

Critics fear the project will proceed with a lack of environmental oversight. Ecuador’s environment ministry has been merged with the energy ministry, and the government has frozen the bank accounts of some environmental foundations and leaders, including those who protested the government approval of a mining project. In October 2025, regulation was issued that categorises mining projects as economically strategic, and limits the potential for communities and NGOs to oppose them.

Mining waste is a major concern. The water conservation non-profit Yemanyá has used publicly available information to estimate that the mine will produce 2 billion tonnes of tailings during its first 25 years. That is equivalent to 91 tonnes of tailings for each person living in Ecuador.

“It’s a huge mine and they’re going to [dig up] unimaginable amounts of mineralised soil. That soil contains arsenic and heavy metals,” explains Carlos Zorrilla, executive director of Intag Ecological Conservation and Defence (Decion), named after Imbabura’s Intag Valley. This NGO monitors and has opposed mining projects that pose an environmental threat to the area.

In September 2024, mining consultant Steven H Emerman prepared an analysis on behalf of the Rainforest Information Centre, an NGO which has been working to secure legal protection for the Intag region against mining. It concludes that the tailings management plan is “not sufficiently advanced”. Emerman points to the lack of both geotechnical tests of tailings samples and foundational analysis of the proposed tailings storage facilities. His report also claims the consequences of any tailings dam failures has not been modelled.

Arnal clarifies SolGold will follow national and international standards for tailings storage. These facilities will be located within the concession, he says, but exact locations have not been disclosed. “The mine does not impact the rivers, but a risk analysis will be carried out in the Mira River Basin, which is part of its environmental impact studies,” he adds. 

Eduardo Rebolledo, a biologist at the Pontifical Catholic University of Ecuador in the northern coastal city of Esmeraldas, says such assessments should have been carried out by now. He tells Dialogue Earth that nearby rivers like the Cachaco and the Paramba will be affected. Rebolledo also points out that pollution of the Mira River basin, shared by both Ecuador and Colombia, could affect Colombian territory.

Initial plans for a 150-km pipeline to transport copper concentrate to Esmeraldas city, in the neighbouring province of the same name, have been ruled out for now. Arnal says this may be reconsidered, however: “If in 20 years we say we have to build it, that’s another matter, but for the exploitation phase, it is not being considered.”

Zorrilla says any alternative plan to transport materials by road would generate more carbon dioxide emissions, which would be at odds with SolGold’s efforts to present the mine as low-carbon.

Community relocations

While the project has faced other complaints relating to unauthorised drilling and a lack of community consultation dating back several years, today a potentially thornier issue is that of Cascabel’s community relocations, which Arnal says impacts some 69 families. They are expected to be consulted in the coming months over the “consensual involuntary resettlement”, as SolGold characterised it to Dialogue Earth. Meanwhile, the company says it has already purchased about 50% of the land that it requires within the concession area.

Dialogue Earth contacted representatives of the municipality and the population, but all declined to comment, citing a fear of retaliation from the company and flouting the law on interfering with mining projects.

Despite these questions, the project continues moving towards its exploitation phase. SolGold is planning road expansions and the start of an Alpala access tunnel build later this year.

Cascabel has gone from being a long-term prospect to becoming a rapidly expanding “supermine” in development. According to Arnal, “Cascabel is not simply a mine to be operated solely by Solgold, it is much more than that: it is a project for the development of the Ecuadorian state, which will have a strong impact on social welfare.” It may take years to establish if the project lives up to this socially conscious vision, or if gaining a foothold in the race for copper takes precedence over Cascabel’s impacts.

Isabel Alarcón

President Kast promises investors a faster route to one of the world’s most coveted minerals – but this threatens the ecosystems that surround them. 

By John Bartlett, May 19, 2026

A long the dry plains shared by Chile, Argentina and Bolivia, a chain of high-altitude, wind-blown salt flats has long been seen as central to the global energy transition. This trio of territories is the Lithium Triangle, which holds more than half of the world’s known reserves of the mineral. Lithium is needed for electric vehicle batteries and other renewable energy technologies.

Chile possesses the single largest share of the triangle, with a string of salt flats west of the Andes. These mineral-rich brine deposits run south from the vast Salar de Atacama. Lithium is mostly extracted from this brine, which is found approximately 10 metres below these lakes. In other words, this is a lucrative lithium corridor.

The new government of Chile is signalling a sharp turn in the country’s approach to lithium, one of its most strategic assets. The national resource policy has shifted frequently in recent years, leaving companies, communities and investors navigating an uncertain landscape.

Gabriel Boric, the former, leftist president, saw a way to bolster revenues by part-nationalising lithium with his 2023 National Lithium Strategy (ENL). But his carefully laid plans have been dealt a blow by José Antonio Kast, the ultraconservative who took office on 11 March. Kast vows an abrupt change of course.

One of the Kast administration’s first moves was to place the economy and mining portfolios under the same minister, Daniel Mas – a signal that economic growth, the streamlining of permit approvals and mining policy will all move forward in unison. As Kast said during his presidential campaign: “Our approach focuses on reducing the regulatory and tax burden and ensuring certainty, so as to foster a competitive market and attract new investment.”

This means Kast must now manage a delicate balancing act between the United States and China. Meanwhile, some of the most fragile high-Andean ecosystems are at stake.

A strategy left unfinished

Boric’s ENL sought to make Chile the world’s largest lithium producer, while also strengthening the state’s role in the industry and upholding stringent environmental regulations. It also created a network of protected areas, aiming to protect 30% of them by 2030, with 7.7% so far protected. This nationalisation drive birthed the NovaAndino Litio venture between the state copper company Codelco and Chile’s chemicals giant SQM. NovaAndino Litio was established in December 2025 and has licenses to operate on the Salar de Atacama until 2060.

The ENL’s framework remains nominally in place under Kast but aside from NovaAndino Litio, its tendered projects are still awaiting approval. Kast, who is seen as more pro-business than Boric, is likely to take a different approach according to Francisco Urdinez, who directs the Millennium Nucleus on the Impacts of China in Latin America and the Caribbean. “Ultimately, [the ENL] was left unfinished by the previous government and the current administration has no interest in pushing it forward,” Urdinez tells Dialogue Earth, “because the values ​​of that policy are very much against its general economic strategy. Perhaps I’m wrong, but I don’t believe the ENL is going anywhere – at least for the four years Kast is in power.”

In an indication of this shift in approach, the mining ministry told Dialogue Earth that Chile had failed to make the most of previous lithium booms. In a statement, it said its objective is to “ensure projects are effectively developed, using the instruments established by the current legal framework and providing certainty to investors who believe in our country”.

“Every time a project is not executed or its processing is unnecessarily extended, the possibility of Chile developing, generating jobs and improving people’s quality of life is delayed,” they added.

Chile remains second to Australia for national lithium production. The two countries account for approximately 59% of global output. But some of this lustre has begun to dull. Over the past few years, significant new deposits have been discovered elsewhere and, coupled with the drop in price to about a quarter of its November 2022 value, enthusiasm has dissipated.

Fragile ecosystems at risk

Kast has sought to weaken environmental protection thus far. In his first week in power, the president repealed 43 environmental decrees put forward by Boric. This removed the protected status assigned to some endangered species and killed legislation that would have given Chile the fourth-largest marine protected area in the world. Among the quashed decrees were six that created protected areas on salt flats and high-Andean lakes.

Communities living near the salt flats fear Kast’s business-first mantra could see the salt absorb the consequences, as the push for faster permitting puts pressure on environmental assessments and community consultation. Spokespeople for the Kast government have spoken regularly of their frustration at a “permitting culture” surrounding extraction projects.

Extracting lithium from brine draws water out of the underground systems that sustain flamingo breeding grounds and wetlands. A 2024 study found the Salar de Atacama (the largest salt flat in Chile) to be sinking by 1-2 cm per year because of this extraction.

“As a result of increased water evaporation from the lithium ponds, we are seeing less vegetation cover, decreased flamingo populations and the loss of nesting sites, and damage to microbial structures in wetland areas,” microbiologist Dr Cristina Dorador, who has studied ecosystems of the salt flats extensively, tells Dialogue Earth.

The industry is set to expand into other salt flats aside from Atacama, causing concern among communities living near salt flats. The Maricunga salt flat hosts the second-largest lithium deposit in Chile. Codelco is exploring a USD 900 million project with Rio Tinto, the UK-headquartered mining giant, and is projected to begin production in 2030.

“The Maricunga salt flat complex is a sacred place for the Colla people,” Cindy Quevedo tells Dialogue Earth, fighting back tears as she explains the impacts of this project for her people and territory. She is president of the Consejo Nacional Pueblo Colla, an Indigenous representative organisation that brings together Colla communities.

“It’s not just a salt flat: it hosts biodiversity in its lagoons and is an important biological corridor where there is flora and fauna, but also where our most sacred apu [sacred mountain spirit] watches over us – the Copayapu Volcano.”

Caught between Washington and Beijing

The race to control global battery supply chains is accelerating. Chile now finds itself sandwiched between the interests of two superpowers, the US and China. The latter has manoeuvred itself into a commanding position when it comes to mineral supply chains and the US under president Trump has sought to counter this, particularly in Latin America.

Kast appears to have picked a side very quickly: on his first day in office, he rushed back from his inauguration ceremony in the coastal city of Valparaíso to sign a critical minerals deal with the US. His far-right bedfellow, Argentina’s president Javier Milei, has also signed an MOU with the US.

However, the balancing act is less about lithium specifically than about the broader economic relationship. China remains Chile’s largest copper buyer – a trade relationship worth billions annually – giving China significant leverage.

“I think that the objective now is to use lithium and other metals as a bargaining chip in exchange for geopolitical favours,” says Urdinez. “Part of the aim of those memoranda [with the US] is to prevent China from accessing certain key minerals and elements, such as rare earths.”

Chinese companies have already been burned by investments in the lithium industry. Plans for a USD 290 million BYD battery plant and USD 233 million Tsingshan facility were both scrapped last year when lithium prices slumped. Tianqui Lithium, another Chinese company, owns a sizeable stake in SQM, but Chinese companies remain minority market players in Chilean lithium, without decision-making power.

Whatever policy the Kast administration pursues, access to lithium currently depends on a state-sanctioned structure. There are currently 10 projects in the queue for approval, and Corfo has stated that these will be respected.

With a potential flood of lithium investment looming on the horizon if regulations are weakened, communities fear ecosystems and habitats are likely to suffer the repercussions.

“I live here in the mountains – why should I have to be impacting and destroying my sacred lands to provide solutions for people on another continent who haven’t stopped their CO2 emissions?” asks Quevedo.

“We are paying the social and environmental consequences to create a solution to climate change – a problem we haven’t created.”

John Bartlett

While the latest talks were less fraught than October’s, the International Maritime Organization’s Net-Zero Framework is far from a done deal. 

By Regina Lam, May 7, 2026

An ambitious plan to curb the shipping sector’s emissions survived renewed attempts to wreck it during meetings at the UN’s maritime agency last week, with its backers leaving at least partially buoyant.

Observers told Dialogue Earth that slightly more than half the voting countries want the plan, known as the Net-Zero Framework, to be the basis for future talks under the UN’s International Maritime Organization (IMO).

The US and Saudi Arabia tried to permanently sink the plan last year, and are still pushing for that outcome. At the London headquarters of the IMO last week, however, members decided not to rule anything out before the next meeting on the subject in November.

If a vote to adopt the plan does take place in November, it will require a two-third majority to succeed. 

“There is less pressure from the US and Saudi Arabia [at this meeting] … and the fact that the Net-Zero Framework is still on the table increases the chance of adoption,” said Benoit Bardouille, the Commonwealth of Dominica’s delegate to the IMO.

Ambulances on standby

Approximately 3% of global anthropogenic greenhouse gas emissions come from shipping. Countries have committed to achieving net-zero emissions from the shipping industry “by or around” 2050.

The IMO’s framework is intended as a step towards this. It proposes standards to limit vessels’ fuel emissions and requirements for shipowners to pay for emissions that exceed certain limits. The money would fund work to mitigate the impacts of climate change for developing states, and an aim of the framework is to somehow reward low-emission ships.

That 2050 target was agreed upon in July 2023, while the Net-Zero Framework was approved one year ago with a view to formal adoption at the next IMO meeting, in October 2025. But when October arrived, a majority of IMO states voted to delay further discussions for yet another year.

Some commentators said the plans were effectively dead in the water. Many attributed this apparent U-turn to the US government, which threatened proponents with economic punishments, and even intimidated delegates. Concerns that the plan would spike shipping costs and impact developing states were also cited as reasons to delay. 

In October, countries voted to delay the contentious decision on adoption – the final step in the process – for one year. That means it will not be discussed until the next meeting, this November. At last week’s meeting, multiple delegates told Dialogue Earth that political pressure from the US had eased; the fraught and bitter negotiations of last year were largely avoided.

When tensions did start to build on the final day, the meeting’s chair leaned on a running joke he had started at last year’s hugely heated session, asking: “I am sure you don’t want me to call the ambulance like the last time, right?”

In a statement issued after the meeting, the US delegate Laura DiBella wrote the framework would cause “serious economic harm”. A previously silent majority of countries that share this stance had “finally found its voice”, she added.

Tristan Smith, an energy and transport expert at University College London who attended the meeting, felt there was still “a lot of pressure” from the US and its allies in the room. But he told Dialogue Earth it did not appear as effective in influencing countries this time around: “That’s either because countries are paying less attention to the US … or countries are more prepared.”

Leading advocates, including Brazil, Mexico and most of the European Union and the Pacific, want the framework adopted largely as it stands this November. Over 100 country representatives took to the floor during discussions on the framework. According to Smith’s analysis, the majority indicated they still prefer the existing framework.

Various proposals are now trying to chart a course between the existing framework and abandoning it altogether. Ahead of the meeting, Liberia, Argentina and Panama proposed to work on “a revised and more pragmatic” framework. It would scrap payments into a net-zero fund, and only consider “commercially viable” and “affordable” fuels for the greenhouse gas intensity targets.

The proposal’s critics warn it would leave the IMO far from fulfilling its decarbonisation commitments. Furthermore, any significant changes require a new draft to be approved; this would restart the discussion clock, meaning another six months before a decision on adoption could take place.

Lloyd Fikiasi, a delegate from Vanuatu, found the US’s complaints over higher shipping costs ironic, given the current fuel and shipping crisis it has triggered since attacking Iran. The UN reports that Vanuatu has been forced to warn of electricity price rises, while the Pacific islands of Palau, Nauru and Kiribati are also “weighing responses”.

“They caused the war and now we suffer,” Fikiasi said. “We are paying for it.”

Member states have agreeing to continue discussions in intersessional meetings, which will taking place in September and early November, before the plenary in late November that will revisit the decision on adoption. “We are getting there,” Fikiasi added.

Jesse Fahnestock, the Global Maritime Forum’s decarbonisation director, told Dialogue Earth that his team also thinks the framework now has the backing of a slight majority.

However, while last week’s meeting “may have undermined some assumptions that the current agreement was dead”, Fahnestock added, “it’s a bit difficult to say where we are heading.”

In response to water scarcity, agriculture in north-western Bangladesh is transitioning – but leaving landless communities behind. 

By Tanmoy Bhaduri, May 11, 2026

The 8,000 sq km Barind Tract in north-western Bangladesh was once synonymous with paddy cultivation. These days, parts of the region are home to high-value crops that do not form the local staple diet. In some places, crops are being cultivated that were virtually unknown until a decade ago.

The region’s higher, undulated area, the High Barind Tract, incorporates Rajshahi, Chapainawabganj and Naogaon. In parts of these three districts, farmers are switching from paddy cultivation to crops like dragon fruit, sweet orange and mango. They are also increasingly growing crops that require less water, like maize, lentils, tomatoes and chillies.

The tract’s farmers are making this switch in response to a growing water crisis in the region: Barind has been experiencing erratic rainfall, and its groundwater has been gradually reducing.

“Farmers are responding to water stress in real time,” says Mariam Ahmed, a government agriculture officer in Godagari, an upazila (subdistrict) of Rajshahi. “Over the past few years, we have seen a significant expansion of dragon fruit cultivation across three unions in Godagari [Pakri, Matikata and Gogram], particularly in Matikata, where many highlands and even some former paddy fields are now being converted into dragon fruit orchards.”

Barind’s transformation is often cited as an example of local climate adaptation. But though the adaptation is rooted in necessity, for some the choice of crop is reflective of economic drivers. “Farmers are shifting from rice to dragon fruit, malta fruit [sweet orange] and mango orchards because they see stable profits and lower water needs,” Ahmed notes. “The driver is economic opportunity as much as climate adaptation.”

This shift is manageable for those with market access, adequate infrastructure to rely upon and capital investment. But landless tenant farmers, as well as resource-poor and marginal communities, remain trapped in traditional systems. They are experiencing shrinking returns and the loss of stable agricultural jobs.

“Those who have land and savings can adapt,” says Mohammad Bulu, a farmer in the Vajanpur Patha Para village of Godagari. “For the poor, it’s impossible.”

A drought-prone region

The Barind Tract is one of the driest zones in the country, with annual rainfall half of that seen in eastern and southern Bangladesh. It is also prone to drought.

Over the past decade, groundwater levels have dropped by nearly 10-15 metres in many upazilas in the region. That is according to Mohammad Abdul Latif Sarkar, an assistant engineer at the Barind Multipurpose Development Authority (BMDA), a government body overseeing the tract’s agricultural development.

This is due to several reasons, one being the region’s thick surface layer of clay. This prevents the percolation of water and thus makes groundwater recharge difficult, notes Chowdhury Sarwar Jahan, a professor at the University of Rajshahi’s Department of Geology and Mining.

“Ten years ago, a BMDA deep tube well could irrigate more than 200 bighas [27 hectares] of land,” says Abu Bakar, a pump operator at the Matikata union council, a local government body within Godagari. “Now, it can barely serve half.” The groundwater level has fallen so low that submersible pumps can no longer do the job.

Across Godagari, irrigation is increasingly difficult. Bakar notes that many tube wells have started to yield less water and, in a few cases, have stopped functioning. Meanwhile, many bodies of surface water in Godagari are already used for aquaculture, which limits alternative irrigation sources in the area.

Saving groundwater

BMDA had historically used deeper tube wells to meet large-scale irrigation needs, and operates around 16,000 deep tube wells in the region. However, aquifer depletion has meant no new installations since 2012.

Since 2024, the BMDA’s pumps in these particular upazilas have been limited to operating for a maximum of 980 hours from mid-February to mid-May, when the boro crops (high-yielding winter rice) reach peak thirst in the Barind Tract. This is down from 1,200-1,400 hours. 

Latif notes that the BMDA simultaneously introduced a “rotational irrigation system” in 2024. This entails supplying water to only a third of the area it operates during the boro season, by delivering water from one deep tube well rather than three. Each serves 1-2 hectares of land. “This means farmers who receive irrigation this year will not get it for the next two years,” he clarifies.

Latif adds that field inspections by BMDA officials indicate groundwater levels have increased. Quantified data is not yet available.

The lowered cap and rotational irrigation have rapidly reshaped local cropping decisions. In the union of Pakri in Godagari, total boro rice cultivation shrank from 1,300 hectares in 2024 to around 1,050 last year, notes Mohammad Anisur Rahman. “Vegetables, maize and lentils have replaced many paddy fields because water is no longer available,” says the sub-assistant agricultural officer for Pakri council.

The BMDA’s policy is intended to regulate groundwater extraction, but experts say it may have inadvertently spurred unregulated private pumping. Many farmers are installing their own shallow tube wells, or relying on privately-operated electric pumps.

This often leads to groundwater extraction beyond the reach of government monitoring, notes Jahangir Alam Khan. He directs the DASCOH Foundation (Development Association for Self-reliance, Communication and Health), a local NGO focused on water issues. In upazilas across the region, Khan says “groundwater extraction is effectively going unmonitored, as existing systems of water management are unable to scale and [curb] spread of usage.”

“Restricting state-operated irrigation without strengthening local water governance leads to a parallel, unregulated market,” adds Jahan of the University of Rajshahi. “It undermines the very goal of groundwater sustainability.”

Switching crops: A two-tier adaptation story

With these policy changes, farmers are now faced with new opportunities and challenges shaped by market access and infrastructure.

In Godagari, farmers living near highways and marketplaces, such as those in the union of Matikata and parts of the union of Gogram, are far more likely to switch crops than those in more remote or upland areas, like Pakri, due to their visibility and connection to markets and customers. “Market access is the single biggest enabler,” says Ahmed. “Farmers who can sell fruits directly earn better.”

Hasibul Islam was working in construction in Dhaka, Bangladesh’s capital. After the Covid-19 pandemic hit, he returned home to the village of Gopalpur in Matikata, where he converted his boro paddy fields into a dragon fruit orchard. Islam tells Dialogue Earth that one bigha (0.134 hectares) of paddy yields a net profit of BDT 80,000 (USD 655) annually, while dragon fruit earns BDT 500,000-600,000 (USD 4,900).

He highlights the benefits of the conversion, and his farm’s location beside the state highway: “Wholesalers come to me. I don’t even go to the market.”

Such transitions are capital-intensive. Establishing one bigha of dragon fruit requires around BDT 250,000 (USD 2,045), Islam notes. This is far beyond what marginal farmers can afford. Islam used his savings and obtained a loan from his brother (a migrant worker in Oman) to convert his fields.

For smallholders who lease land, the decision to change crops is often not up to them. “Owners decide what to grow,” says Mohammad Rasid, a tenant farmer in Gorgoria, a village in Pakri. His landlord uses a sharecropping system: land is cultivated on a yearly basis and the harvest typically split equally between the landowner and tenant farmer. Rasid retains a small portion for household consumption and sells the rest.

Rasid notes his smallholding mostly cultivates a thin-grain local variety of kalijira rice, a miniature version of basmati rice. It is traditionally cultivated for personal consumption but has good market value as a premium rice. “If I don’t grow [this variety of] rice, they won’t lease me the land next season,” he adds.

Meanwhile, agricultural labourers, particularly women and marginal communities, are losing work.

Some of the new crops being planted require less labour each year for pruning and orchard management, compared to the more intensive needs of paddy. “A mango orchard may provide only three months of employment to an agricultural labourer, while paddy cultivation ensures year-round engagement,” Jahan explains.

He notes that up to 15% of the Barind Tract’s population is Indigenous and landless communities, who already lack access to land and resources. “With this agricultural transition, many of them have become further marginalised. This shift will inevitably push these communities toward out-migration.”

Shreya Chakraborty, regional researcher at the International Water Management Institute, says Barind farmers’ adaptability and the changes being observed in the region “are evolving unevenly [as] those with resources are progressing, while the poorest remain trapped in uncertainty”.

She adds that a “multi-level holistic approach” is essential for any future adaptation initiatives in the region – “one that connects groundwater governance with inclusive finance, farmer training and fair market systems”.

Chakraborty says: “Without an enabling environment, these transitions will remain isolated success stories, rather than a pathway to long-term resilience for Barind’s water-stressed communities.”