A month after the Supreme Court’s 20 November verdict formally adopting a 100‑metre elevation threshold to define what legally counts as Aravalli hills across Delhi, Haryana, Rajasthan and Gujarat, a nationwide #SaveAravalli movement has erupted, warning that the ruling could strip protection from large portions of India’s oldest mountain range and expose them to intensified mining and real estate pressure.
Citizens’ groups, environmentalists, scientists, rural communities and opposition leaders argue that limiting protection to hills above 100 metres ignores the ecological importance of lower ridges and scrub forests, even as the Court has paused fresh mining leases until a Management Plan for Sustainable Mining (MPSM) is prepared.
On social media, hashtags like #SaveAravalli and #SaveAravallisSaveAQI, profile picture campaigns and viral explainers linking the range to air quality and groundwater have brought unprecedented attention, with leaders such as former Rajasthan Chief Minister Ashok Gehlot joining local sarpanches, youth and climate collectives in urging the Centre and states to safeguard the entire landscape.
Officials and some legal experts defend the verdict as a move towards scientific uniformity and better enforcement, insisting that a clear definition will help demarcate genuine “no‑go” areas and regulate mining more effectively under the upcoming MPSM, but critics say a narrow technical benchmark risks legitimising ecological loss on a massive scale.
Digital Wave Fuels Grassroots Resistance
In the weeks since the verdict, social media has turned into a battleground of maps, drone footage and infographics explaining why the Aravallis matter far beyond their rocky slopes.
Posts under #SaveAravalli and #SaveAravallisSaveAQI highlight how the range acts as a natural barrier against the Thar desert’s spread, recharges groundwater, moderates local temperatures and plays a key role in controlling dust and particulate pollution that already chokes Delhi‑NCR and neighbouring regions.
Influential voices, from environmental lawyers and climate researchers to local farmers and students, are breaking down the implications of the 100‑metre rule in accessible language, warning that vast stretches of low‑lying ridges, scrub forests and commons that sustain pastoral communities could fall outside the legal definition of “hills”.
Former Rajasthan Chief Minister Ashok Gehlot and other public figures have joined citizens in changing profile pictures, amplifying petitions and urging people to tag MPs and MLAs, turning what might otherwise have remained a technical legal change into a mainstream public conversation on environmental justice.
On the ground, this digital momentum is feeding into peaceful resistance. Environmental groups and village collectives have called for symbolic fasts, public meetings and awareness yatras, with a one‑day upvaas at Tosham Hill in Haryana’s Bhiwani district becoming a focal point for mobilisation.
Organisers describe Tosham as the northernmost outpost of the Aravalli chain and a living reminder of how these ancient rocks support biodiversity, grazing, small farming and cultural practices, all of which they fear could be undermined if height‑based criteria trump ecological reality.
Court Directions, Expert Views And Official Line
The Supreme Court’s verdict accepted an expert‑committee recommendation backed by the Union Environment Ministry, which defined Aravalli hills as landforms within notified districts that rise at least 100 metres above surrounding terrain, along with their associated slopes and connected landforms.
The judgment directed that a Management Plan for Sustainable Mining be prepared, with detailed mapping and zoning to indicate which areas would be treated as inviolate, where limited mining could be allowed under strict conditions, and where non‑mining uses might be considered.
Officials and some legal commentators argue that, for decades, enforcement around the Aravallis has suffered from overlapping notifications, ambiguous maps and inconsistent definitions, leading to both illegal mining and protracted litigation.
By settling on a uniform, elevation‑based definition, they say, authorities can more easily prosecute encroachment, monitor leases and plan land use, while the Court’s insistence on an MPSM and its temporary bar on fresh leases are framed as signs that environmental concerns remain central.
However, environmentalists, constitutional scholars and local communities counter that the chosen threshold is arbitrary from an ecological standpoint and undermines the precautionary principle that has guided several past green judgments.
Analyses in independent environmental and legal publications warn that if lower ridges, inter‑hill valleys, scrublands and village commons fall outside the “hill” category, they may become more vulnerable to fragmentation and conversion, with consequences for wildlife corridors, water recharge and climate resilience that are hard to reverse.
Critics also stress that the Court’s language on “scientific” mining and sustainable development must not be interpreted as a licence to expand extractive activities in already stressed landscapes.
The Logical Indian’s Perspective
The Aravallis debate goes beyond maps, elevations and legal phrasing; at its heart lies a moral question about what kind of development India chooses in a climate‑vulnerable future.
While the need for clarity in regulation is understandable, limiting legal protection to hills above an arbitrary height risks reducing a living, interconnected ecosystem to lines on paper, ignoring the daily realities of rural communities breathing dust, losing grazing lands and watching their water sources dry up.
The Logical Indian stands firmly with peaceful, democratic movements that foreground science, empathy and constitutional values in defending common ecosystems that cannot speak for themselves. Environmental governance must be shaped through dialogue that meaningfully includes villagers, workers, independent scientists and young people, not only technical committees and industry voices.
