Great Nicobar Island Development Project, now estimated at approx. ₹Rs 81,000 crore, has emerged as the most consequential and competitive infrastructure initiative in contemporary India. Recently, a six-member bench of the National Green Tribunal upheld the environmental and coastal clearance given to the project, rejected fresh challenges and said the material placed on record by government agencies had adequate safeguards to allow it to proceed. Emphasizing the strategic importance of the project, the tribunal directed for strict adherence to the environmental conditions attached to the approval. The decision effectively paves the way for implementation after lengthy litigation and sustained opposition from environmentalists, tribal representatives and independent scientists. Yet legal support of a project does not, in itself, address the deeper questions it raises.
Great Nicobar is one of the most remote and ecologically important regions of India. Located on the southernmost tip of the Andaman and Nicobar archipelago, the island is part of the Great Nicobar Biosphere Reserve, a protected landscape of global ecological value. Its tropical evergreen forests, mangroves, coastal wetlands and coral ecosystems sustain an extraordinary array of life. Endemic and endangered species, including the Nicobar megapode and the giant leatherback turtle, depend on these habitats for reproduction and survival. The island’s ecosystem also acts as a carbon sink and natural buffer against storms and sea level rise. Development on such terrain is not just a matter of engineering; It is an intervention in a finely balanced ecosystem.
The government presents the project as a strategic and economic necessity. At its core is a proposal for a trans-shipment port located close to the Strait of Malacca, one of the world’s busiest sea corridors. A greenfield international airport, a 450 MVA gas and solar-based power plant, an industrial township and associated defense infrastructure are planned to complement the port. The stated objective is to reduce India’s dependence on foreign trans-shipment hubs such as Singapore and Colombo, which currently handle a large share of Indian cargo. Policymakers argue that by capturing a larger share of this trade domestically, India can strengthen its maritime competitiveness, increase supply chain resilience and strengthen its strategic presence in the Indian Ocean region.
These ambitions are neither trivial nor wrong. Great Nicobar’s geography offers undeniable strategic advantages, and India’s aspiration to integrate more deeply into the global shipping network is consistent with broader economic goals. However, the scale of the proposed change raises fundamental concerns about whether environmental and social costs have been adequately assessed and whether procedural safeguards have been meaningfully implemented.
The ecological implications are profound. Reports indicate that more than 130 square kilometers of forest land will be used for diversion, with around 10 lakh trees being cut. Parts of the wildlife sanctuaries, including areas around Galathea Bay, have been denotified or reconfigured to accommodate infrastructure. While project proponents have offered compensatory measures, including the designation of alternative protected areas, conservationists question whether ecological functions can be superseded by administrative decree. The complex relationships between species, hydrology and microclimate evolve over centuries and cannot be reproduced through cartographic replacement.
In particular, Galathea Bay has long been recognized as a globally important nesting site for the leatherback turtle. Port construction and dredging activities can alter coastal currents, sediment flux and shoreline stability with uncertain consequences for marine life. The island’s location within a seismically active area adds another layer of risk. The region was devastated by the 2004 earthquake and tsunami. Such a scenario requires rigorous, transparent and multi-climate assessment of seismic and climate vulnerabilities of large-scale infrastructure. Critics argue that the initial assessment processes did not adequately account for these cumulative and long-term risks.
The implications for indigenous communities are equally serious. The Nicobarese and Shompen tribes are the major inhabitants of the island, with the Shompen classified as a particularly vulnerable tribal group. Their subsistence patterns, social structures and cultural identity are inextricably linked with forests and coastal ecosystems. Legal protection for such communities is strong in principle. The Scheduled Tribes and Other Traditional Forest Dwellers (Recognition of Forest Rights) Act, 2006, mandates the recognition and settlement of individual and community forest rights before any alteration of forest land, and requires the informed consent of the Gram Sabha. There remain legitimate concerns about whether these obligations have been met in letter and spirit.
Constitutional principles underpin these statutory safeguards. Article 21, as widely interpreted by the courts, includes the right to life with dignity and a healthy environment. Article 48A directs the State to protect and improve the environment, while Article 51A(g) directs citizens to preserve the country’s natural heritage. In the context of indigenous peoples, these provisions are aligned with international norms requiring free, prior and informed consent for projects affecting vulnerable communities. Compliance cannot be limited to procedural formalities; This should reflect a genuine commitment to and respect for autonomy.
Beyond legal theory lies the lived reality of social change. The project envisions dramatic population growth over time, potentially reaching several million residents. The influx of workers, administrators and support service providers will reshape the demographic profile of the island. For relatively isolated communities like Shompen, increased contact with outside populations poses significant public health risks, especially given limited immunity to common diseases. Rapid urbanization will also change patterns of land use, resource extraction and cultural practice. The cumulative effect can be the erosion of traditional livelihoods and identities passed down through generations.
Therefore, the dilemma facing policy makers is not a simple binary between development and conservation. The question is how to reconcile strategic imperatives with ecological prudence and social justice. India’s aspirations to strengthen its maritime infrastructure and secure its economic interests are legitimate, but their moral and democratic legitimacy ultimately depend on the integrity of the processes and the fairness with which costs and benefits are shared.
A credible path forward requires more than compliance with minimum statutory requirements; It calls for independent and multidisciplinary environmental and social impact assessments that examine cumulative impacts over decades, transparent disclosure of seismic and climate risk analyses, ongoing dialogue with tribal institutions, and enforceable guarantees to protect their lands, health, and cultural autonomy, with all mitigation measures firmly based on scientific evidence and subject to continuous monitoring.
Great Nicobar today stands at a crossroads where national ambition meets constitutional obligation. The future of the island will test India’s ability to pursue development without undermining the ecological and human foundations on which development ultimately depends. Development that ignores environmental integrity and indigenous rights risks destroying the very legitimacy it seeks to secure. In a constitutional democracy, power derives its stability not from the speed of execution but from the depth of consensus and the flexibility of the institutions that discipline it. Development informed by science, guided by law and motivated by moral responsibility can demonstrate that strategic advancement and heritage management are not mutually exclusive. The choice between these trajectories will not only define the destiny of Great Nicobar, but also the character of India’s development model in the coming decades.
This article is written by author, policy analyst and columnist Amal Chandra.
