Nuisance, planning and the common law in Bombay

Continuing themes from recent posts on British India and on nuisance: Sukriti Issar recently published "Nuisance, Planning and the Common Law in Late Eighteenth-Century Bombay" in The Journal of Legal History. The abstract:

The literature on the legal transfer of English property law to colonial South Asia has long focused on the agrarian context. Urban property and the built environment remain understudied. This article explores how the common law of nuisance found its way into the workings of a Committee of Buildings in late eighteenth-century Bombay. An analysis of the internal files of the Committee of Buildings shows that the Committee focused on public and private nuisance mitigation. Residents filed private party nuisance complaints, taking up nuisance law in their own disputes with neighbours. The Committee’s attempts to deal with public nuisances highlights the resistance of local residents. The conclusion considers the broader question of how we can conceptualize the actors, vectors and mechanisms involved in legal transfer, and its reception. Alternative explanations such as influences from pre-English colonial regimes, the impact of local custom, and the balance between common law and statute are evaluated. Rather than a seamless legal transfer, nuisance in early colonial Bombay demonstrates dialogue, resistance and appropriation.

Plan of Bombay about 1760, from James Douglas,
Bombay and Western India. A series of stray papers (1893)

Privatizing water and fish in colonial India

Devika Shankar's article on property in water and fish in India is now also a blog post at Past & Present. Shankar explains that her article reflects 

a close analysis of over 10 important and highly cited cases from different parts of British India in which judges deliberated on whether flowing water and fish could be treated as private property. Starting with a significant set of cases relating to the planting of stakes in the sea off the coast of Bombay, the article then primarily looks at cases involving rights over rivers in the fluid landscape of the Bengal delta. The article not only highlights the enduring confusion surrounding the status of water in colonial Indian law, but also looks at the different ways in which judges interpreted roman law and precedents from English common law while reaching their judgments. After reaching a variety of conclusions, by the 1880s high courts had begun to simultaneously make room for unprecedented private rights over flowing waters in colonial India while rendering these rights largely redundant by insisting that fish in these waters could not be counted as property until they were caught. The conflicting pull of these judgments however began to create serious problems in Bengal where fishing rights were considered to be especially valuable. It was in order to overcome this impasse that the Bengal government ultimately passed the Bengal Private Fisheries Protection Act in 1889 granting landholders significant rights over fish in rivers across the province. It would do so by significantly strengthening the kinds of private rights that could be claimed over water, and inaugurating a novel category of “private waters” in tidal waters in Bengal and other parts of India. By tracing the arguments and logics that ultimately paved the way for this act, this article highlights the importance of recognizing colonial India, and especially Bengal as an significant site for experimentation with new forms of private property rights over flowing waters.

Charley Brown, Illustrated Guide to the South Indian Railway (1913)

More on property in water and fish in colonial India here.

Not so fast: Nature versus the Common Law concludes

I haven't posted in the last few weeks, leading my friends at the Legal History Blog to reasonably conclude that my series on Nature versus the Common Law was finished. But now I have some time to post what is in fact the final installment in the series.

The posts in this series, based on my article in Clio@Themis, aimed to illustrate a once-common way of thinking about law and legal claims, in which the natural environment was held not only to provide the physical background on which polities and their legal systems existed, but to demand from these legal systems a measure of accommodation. For some judges, it is true, the demands of nature, however worthy or desirable from a social or economic point of view, had no place in court; a judge's role was to resist such claims in the name of the law. For many others, however, environmental realities might be imbued with normative force powerful enough to outweigh considerations of legal precedent and tradition. Moreover, while environmental differences could sometimes break the chains of black-letter law, environmental similarities might at the same time create new legal bonds, as in the Indian and Canadian cases that looked to the law of the independent United States of America, with is great rivers, for legal guidance. All this is to say that in the context of water law in the British Empire, nature could often be "jurisgenerative", to use Robert Cover's term – creating law.

The environmental rhetoric of these courts may, at first glance, seem but a particular instance of the wider phenomenon of colonial and newly independent courts working to stake out the independence of their legal systems from the law of the old country. Yet this would be a mistake: Most of the judges arguing for nature's normative force were themselves British; and in the cases examined here even judges of the independent United States argued not for a general rejection of the English common law, but for the inapplicability of some of its water law rules due to supposed environmental incompatibility.

In conclusion, though, it should be noted that this study has shown that nature also had a "jurispathic" role, impeding the smooth flow, or "transplant", of legal norms around the empire. Legal norms, in particular the common law, spread around the British Empire through a network of orders, legislation, publications, correspondence, educational institutions, career paths, and more. Yet the spread of norms, never smooth, was hampered by a number of factors, some of them natural : distance, forbidding seas, and monsoon winds, to name a few. These factors impeded the transmission of legal ideas and norms in all areas of law. At the same time, this study has highlighted an additional mechanism through which nature sometimes frustrated the spread of norms: perceived environmental similarity and difference.

Nature thus had a dual normative role in this context: creating new norms while at the same time extinguishing others. One need not take a deterministic view of the place of nature in legal history, nor recognize in nature any sort of agency of the intentional kind, to acknowledge that nature had an important role in constituting the connections that both facilitated and obstructed the global flow of water law in the age of empire.

Yet if the first set of law-impeding environmental factors, deriving from physical impediments to legal communication, has historically applied with similar force across all areas of law, the efficacy of the latter mechanism, based on perceived environmental factors, presumably has been correlated with the degree to which the area of law directly dealt with environmental issues. With regard to water law, as we have seen, whether environmental conditions in fact dictated or determined the rejection of common law norms, it is clear that judicial perceptions of nature did play a role in impeding the spread of English norms in this field. I have argued elsewhere that forest law, too, was at least in some contexts heavily influenced by perceptions of environmental foreignness and change. Further study might reveal similar patterns with regard to other related areas of law, from sanitation regulation to wildlife protection.

Happy spring holidays!

Nature versus the common law V: Rylands in India

In previous posts in this series we looked at how courts dealt with the question of whether the common law rules of water law needed to give way to the felt necessities of different environmental conditions in two doctrinal contexts - public rights in non-tidal rivers and shifting watercourses. Next up is an examination of how "the rule in Rylands v Fletcher" fared in India.

The 1868 decision of the House of Lords in Rylands, affirming an 1866 decision of the Court of Exchequer Chamber, is one of the best-known cases in English tort law. The defendant in the case had built a water reservoir on his land to store water for powering a mill, taking all due care, but the water in the reservoir escaped through some old mineshafts and flooded the mines of his neighbor. The court ruled that if a defendant brings something dangerous on to his land and that thing escapes and causes damage to a neighbor, he is liable in tort even if he acted without fault.

Of particular relevance for this study, Lord Chancellor Cairns's ruling turned to a large extent on the issue of whether the use made by the defendant landowner was natural or not. Lord Cairns wrote that if the defendant's land had accumulated water by "natural user" of the land, and then "by the operation of the laws of nature" flowed onto his neighbor's land, there would be no liability. If, however, the defendant used his land for "a non-natural use, for the purpose of introducing into the close that which in its natural condition was not in or upon it", liability would ensue were the water to escape and cause damage, as it did in this case.

Even before the House of Lords had issued its opinion in Rylands's appeal, the Madras Railway Company decided to try and have the rule in the case established by the Court of Exchequer Chamber imported to India. A couple of tanks (reservoirs) located near the rail line in the District of North Arcot had burst several times in 1865 and 1866, and the resulting floods had damaged embankments, bridges, and culverts belonging to the railway company. The company brought suit against the landowner for the damages (Madras Rwy Co v Salvah Makaraju, 5 Madras High Court Reports 139 (1870)), at the same time refusing to allege negligence on the part of the defendant, choosing instead to rely on the new rule of Fletcher v Rylands. It seems that the railway company was hoping from the start to appeal the case up to the Privy Council in London, hoping, as the Madras High Court put it, to take the final decision out of the hands of "Judges conversant with the necessities of the country", instead having "a rule […] imposed elsewhere by Judges not so conversant" (Madras Rwy Co v Zamnida'r of Ka'vatinaggur, 6 Madras High Court Reports 180 (1871)).

Nature versus the common law IV: Shifting watercourses

In the last posts in this series we looked at court decisions that discussed whether the ownership of rivers should follow the common law or change to reflect local environmental conditions. Another branch of water-related law dealt with the legal consequences of changes in the course of a river or a shoreline over time. The property-law questions thrown up by these changes, under the legal terms "alluvion" and "diluvion", were to whom newly formed dry land belonged – to the former owner of the dry land now submerged, or to the owner of the adjacent riverbed. The English rule, based on Roman law, was that gradual accumulations of land from water belonged to the to the owner of the land to which the new land was added, while gradual losses of land were lost to the landowner and became part of the river (Foster v Wright, 4 CPD 438 (1878)). Sudden changes in the course of a river, on the other hand, were held not to bring about changes in ownership of the bed.

One line of legal thought held that the English common law rules in this area of law applied everywhere. The English Court of Exchequer in 1839 (In re Hull and Selby Rwy, 151 English Reports 139 (Ex 1839)) opined that the common law of alluvion "is not peculiar to this country, but obtains also in others, and is founded on the necessity which exists for some such rule of law, for the permanent protection and adjustment of property." Similarly, seventy-five years later, the Privy Council rejected arguments that the English law did not apply to the Nigerian shoreline due to differences in the local conditions, Lord Shaw stating that the court did not doubt the "general applicability" of the English law of accretion. This, however, was the minority position.

Nature versus the common law III: Canadian and Indian rivers

Bhanutpt, Krishna River

In the previous post in this series, we looked at how nineteenth-century American courts debated whether the common law rules of riparian rights applied to the grand American rivers, seemingly so different from those of England. But the question of whether the common law applied to environments unlike England's soon arose in territories around the British Empire as well. Robert Travers has argued that while judges in England had used ideas of natural law to modify the common law, in India natural law arguments were used in some contexts to support the replacement of local law by English norms. Here, however, we see the reverse, with nature invoked to reject English rules of water law in favor of new norms, felt to be more appropriate to the local environment.

In an 1842 case (Esson v M’Master, 3 NBR 501 (1842)) the New Brunswick Supreme Court noted the "great difference in the character of the small rivers of England and those of this Province", but thought that this consideration "may be thought more fit for the Legislature than the Court ". Yet the same court in 1849 (Rowe v Titus, 6 NBR 326 (1849)) adopted the ruling of an American court, following the argument of counsel that:

The principles of the law of England, in respect to rivers, cannot be applied to this country : there the rivers are not subject to such sudden freshets, nor are they used for the same purposes as in this country ; the cases therefore on this subject in the United States, where the rivers are used for the same purposes as in this country, will be very important.

The idea that Canadian courts should follow American courts rather than English ones when dealing with rivers was not limited to New Brunswick. In an 1852 case (R v Meyers, 3 UCCP 305 (1852)), Chief Justice James Macaulay of the Upper Canada (Ontario) Court of Common Pleas, after examining the English precedents which normally would be thought binding in the British colony, demonstrated the legal power of geography over the common law by contrasting English precedents with decisions from "this side of the Atlantic", lumping together American and Canadian cases without distinguishing between them. Macaulay's judgment was also significant in ruling that the test for navigability of a river was its "natural capacity", not its use in practice, once again demonstrating the normative power of nature. The influence of American jurisprudence was evident as well in an 1882 opinion of Justice Samuel Strong of the Supreme Court of Canada :

I do not hesitate to say that the rule which appears to have been adopted as a principle of the common law as administered in England, that no rivers are to be considered in law as public and navigable above the ebb and flow of the tide, is not applicable to the great rivers of this continent, as has been determined by the Supreme Court of the United States and by the courts of most of the States […]

Water, fish and property in colonial India

Last week I enjoyed attending on online event of the Asian Legal History Seminar, at which Devika Shankar presented her article, "Water, Fish and Property in Colonial India, 1860–1890", recently published in Past & Present. I recently covered similar issues in my article, "Nature Versus the Common Law: Nature as a Norm in the Water Law of the British World", published last summer in Clio@Themis, though I totally missed the cases discussed by Shankar, and she comes at the topic from a wholly different angle.

The abstract of Shankar's article:

Almost exactly a hundred years after the Permanent Settlement of 1793 revolutionized property relations in Bengal, a far less studied legislation would subtly extend the rule of property to include the province’s waters. Bengal’s Private Fisheries Protection Act 1889, which is usually regarded as having been motivated by conservationist or economic concerns, was in fact an attempt to resolve intractable legal problems surrounding the status of flowing waters and fish that had confounded judges and colonial officials in India for decades. Could water be owned like land? And could fish swimming in open waters be claimed as property? These questions would give rise to a number of important disputes in colonial India in the late nineteenth century, during a time associated with unprecedented changes in the agrarian economy. Coinciding with other legal manoeuvres that increasingly helped to render water as property in other parts of the world, the Private Fisheries Protection Act and important judgments that preceded it helped to create exceptional private rights over flowing waters in colonial India. Turning to these developments, this article examines the ways in which judges attempted to resolve contradictions generated by water’s very materiality in an economy that rested so heavily on property.

Devika Shankar, A line of fishing stakes on the Malabar coast, July 2018

Hartog on property in land and water

Monk's Ditch in the Gwent Levels, Wales, land reclaimed in the Roman period

As part of his stint as a guest blogger at Legal History Blog, Dirk Hartog recently blogged about his own early work on waterfront development in New York City and his encounter with Debjani Bhattacharyya’s Empire and Ecology in the Bengal Delta: The Making of Calcutta. Some excerpts, followed by a quibble of mine:

I spent many hours reading and rereading those waterlot deeds [granted by the eighteenth century Corporation of the City of New York]. I wrote many pages that unpacked much of the arcane property law doctrine that waterlot grants incorporated. In the end, I managed to put together what at the time felt to me like a satisfying portrait of how a waterlot grant exemplified early modern governance. I argued that corporate leaders were solving a fundamental problem of the time: about how to achieve necessary public purposes — like building wharves and docks for a seafaring city and also street construction and cleaning —without either a municipal workforce or a capacity to levy taxes. By exchanging waterlots for services and development by individual proprietors, the corporation enlarged the borders of the city, and it laid the foundation for what would become a global port, a world city.

In those days, I relentlessly situated those waterlot grants within the history of the corporation, implicitly situating the “municipal corporation” of New York City within the history of the business corporation. My attention was always focused on the public-private split, and little else. Which is not really surprising, given how much attention the public-private split held at that time in what I was reading, in the contemporary and argumentative field of legal history.

The making of Calcutta

More on Debjani Bhattacharyya: Rohan D'Souza recently reviewed her Empire and Ecology in the Bengal Delta: The Making of Calcutta (Cambridge UP, 2018) for H-Water. D'Souza writes:

Empire and Ecology in the Bengal Delta announces a shift in gears within the bourgeoning and bustling field of the environmental histories of South Asia. Instead of taking the familiar route that revisits themes in the existing canon—forests, irrigation, and carnivore control—Debjani Bhattacharyya cuts an altogether fresh path by exploring how radical ecological change was critical to the making of urban colonial Calcutta (today’s Kolkata). The core claims in the book pivot on the many arduous British efforts from the late eighteenth century onward to transform Calcutta’s soggy marshy origins into landed concrete spaces—the firmed-up surfaces upon which were built residential, commercial, and industrial infrastructure and the basis for widespread financial speculation in real estate.

Whereas much of the detail on the drying out of British India’s premier colonial city can be found in a fairly voluminous documentation on drainage works, reclamation projects, and hydraulic engineering schemes, these admittedly technical accounts, we are cautioned, fail to meaningfully grasp the actual “secrets-of-land-making” (p. 1). transformation of “floating watery soils” into firm land, Bhattacharyya argues, was principally an ideological project that was profoundly underwritten by the notion of landed property, which, as a “legal technology” to “demarcate land, marsh, accretion and water,” actively triggered the clotting of Calcutta into urban soil (p. 23). Colonial landed property, moreover, by being set on a treadmill of economic valuation inevitably transmuted into the archetypal capitalist commodity: subject to the logics of the market and the relentless pursuit of profit. Unsurprisingly, therefore, as Calcutta in the early decades of the twentieth century began to explode into a crowded city—short on space, cramped with people, and lacking affordable housing—a thriving and ferocious urban land market burst forward. While Bhattacharyya does provide a riveting account of the aggressive jostling for land among an increasingly vocal working class, sundry lobbies of builders, extortionate landlords, the oscillating fates of rent speculators, and various interventions by municipal authorities, the discussion, however, is more pointedly aimed at returning us to the “secret.”

What finally emerged from the protracted confrontations over land scarcity, we are told, was a less advertised, if not entirely unstated, consensus among the various contending urban interests: that the outlying marshes and untidy swamps were “lands-in-waiting” rather than distinct hydrological phenomena (p. 172). This unanimous and determined call for cutting off the city from its “watery hinterlands,” in Bhattacharyya’s estimate, actually sought to mask a radical ecological rupture by which land and water were meant to be split into distinct and separable entities, instead of being acknowledged as ecologically entwined domains and integral to Bengal’s deltaic environments.

More at H-Water.

CFP: Law & Environment in the Indian Ocean World

[Excerpted from H-Announce:]

Ordering the Anthropocene: Law & the Environment in the Indian Ocean World  

A workshop convened by Debjani Bhattacharyya (Drexel University) and Laurie Wood (Florida State University)4-5th October 2019

Hosted by the Department of History,  Drexel University, with the generous sponsorship of the American Society for Legal History & Drexel University

What can historians of law achieve from engaging with their colleagues studying environmental changes over time? How have emerging regulatory regimes (imperial, property-oriented, maritime, medical, etc.) joined the domains of science and law in new ways? And how can legal historians retool their methods to study deep histories of landscape transformations and climate? These questions are especially pertinent for the Indian Ocean region, where these concerns have both past and contemporary relevance: e.g. rising sea levels in the Maldives and Andaman Islands; coastal erosion and disputes over new-land formation along the littorals of Bay of Bengal; island-building in Singapore (with sand from Gulf states); disaster relief following the 2004 tsunami and earthquake, which especially affected Indonesia and Malaysia; food security around the Horn of Africa; and some of the world’s busiest shipping routes.

*****

The workshop will consist of 4 panels, with 2 presenters in each panel. We will pair legal historians with historians of environment to explore how common terminology around evidence, witness, reason, expertise is affected by concepts of time that are distinct in each discipline. We welcome papers exploring the following questions broadly:

• Where does law/do legal regimes collide with the material world?
• Where/when/how/why do natural phenomena become entangled in ordering regimes?
• How do these relationships (re)configure the human as social (e.g. relational, hierarchical, vocal) and material (e.g. embodied, constrained by lifespan, etc.)?

More details on H-Announce.

Andaman Islands (Venkatech K)

Fishing rights and colonial government

Shourya Sen and Richard Adelstein recently posted "Fishing Rights and Colonial Government: Institutional Development in the Bengal Presidency". The abstract:

We examine the evolution of fishing rights in colonial Bengal through a series of cases heard at the Calcutta High Court in the 1880s and culminating in the passage of legislation in 1889. We posit an implicit relational contract between the colonizing British and the landowning class in colonial Bengal as a way to understand the concurrent evolution of fishing rights and institutions of governance in the region. The system of incentives created by this contract determined the development of fishing rights at a crucial moment in the history of colonial Bengal and, more broadly, became a primary mechanism of institutional change in the region. The analysis also shows the Calcutta High Court to have acted, albeit in vain, as a truly independent judiciary.

Macchi, a Muslim caste of fishermen, from Tashrih al-aqvam (1825)

Moving watersheds, borderless maps, and imperial geography

The Historical Journal recently published Kyle Gardner's "Moving Watersheds, Borderless Maps, and Imperial Geography in India's Northwestern Himalaya". The abstract:

This article uses the British colonial history of border making in northern India to examine the assumptions and contradictions at work in the theorizing, configuring, and mapping of frontiers and borders. It focuses, in particular, on the development of the ‘water-parting principle’ – wherein the edge of a watershed is considered to be the border – and how this principle was used to determine boundaries in the northwestern Himalaya, a region that had long-established notions of border points, but no borderlines. By the twentieth century, the water-parting principle would become the dominant boundary logic for demarcating borders in mountainous regions, and would be employed by statesmen, treaty editors, and boundary commissioners around the world. But for the northwestern Himalaya, a region that British colonial officials considered to be the ‘finest natural combination of boundary and barrier that exists in the world’, making a border proved much more difficult than anticipated.

Irrigation systems: Moors v British

Erum Sattar recently posted "From the Moors to the New World: Lessons from Dynamic Water Sharing for a Colonial-Era System in the Indus". The abstract:

This project is a close study of the legal and political aspects of management of water resources in semi-arid environments. The British in India laid the foundations of the modern irrigation system in what is now India and Pakistan. In semi-arid environments, the bulk of agriculture relies on irrigation, as it did in Spain under the Moors. We can observe a stark divide in the use of laws and institutions to manage natural resources in different societies, at different times and places. Some societies have managed in a way that achieved prosperity and long-term sustainability. Others have mismanaged so as to create ecological devastation and social stagnation. The Moors of Spain created a vibrant civilization in the Middle Ages that lasted nearly eight hundred years. One of the reasons for the dynamism of their civilization was their judicious management of water resources on which foundation they created a thriving agricultural economy that produced the economic surplus for their vibrant urban culture. Of particular interest for my project is what I regard as the essence of Moorish water management: its management of scarcity by borrowing principles from the great cradles of civilization, Mesopotamia and the Nile, which built abundance in harsh environments, along with principles of use, reuse and justice as conceived of in the Quran. These sets of principles, I shall argue, yielded a society that wasted no drop of its precious waters and adopted and innovated to create new technologies, infrastructure, norms and institutions. The British in India meanwhile laid the foundations of water-sharing in a way that to this day reifies rural hierarchy and leads to social and economic stagnation while devastating the environment. In this project of comparison, I draw relevant lessons from Moorish water systems for today's management of water resources across countries.

Irrigation channel in Spain

The river as legal person

Whanganui River

H-Law's World Legal History Blog published this week Debjani Bhattacharyya's post, "Being, River: The Law, the Person and the Unthinkable". Some excerpts:

While many indigenous activists and jurists hailed the granting of legal personhood to Whanganui River in New Zealand in March 2017 as a victory after a long-waged battle, many others were surprised and puzzled. When I mentioned it to my students in April, they wondered what it even means. The unthinkable in law has a long history dating back to medieval jurists. Christopher D. Stone noted that “[t]hroughout legal history, each successive extension of rights to some new entity has been, theretofore, a bit unthinkable.” Stone goes on to show how it sometimes even leads to  laughable conclusions referring to the case of the Morris mouse in Suffolk County prison, where the guard flushed a rat, who had earlier been tamed by the prisoners, resulting in a lawsuit filed by the prison inmates against the guard. Following the granting of legal rights to Whanganui in New Zealand, the Uttarkhand High Court in India granted legal personhood to rivers Ganga and Yamuna, considered holy by many Hindus.

So what does it mean for a river to achieve the status of legal personhood? Broadly speaking, it means that the river counts jurally, and has legal dignity.... 

Bhopal Digital Archive

Mitra Sharafi recently posted on the digital archive created by her and others at the University of Wisconsin on the 1984 Bhopal disaster in which lethal gas leaked from the local Union Carbide plant and killed 15,000 to 25,000 people. The archive is centered on documents collected by legal scholar Marc Galanter, who was involved in civil litigation against the company. The archive explains the basic legal chronology:

Bhopal is frequently referred to as the world’s worst industrial disaster. The leak followed a period of reduced maintenance and neglect of safety systems at the plant.

The arrival in Bhopal of American lawyers led to the filing of hundreds of lawsuits against the American parent company, Union Carbide Corporation (UCC), in the United States. The Indian Parliament passed the Bhopal Act, designating the Government of India (GOI) as the exclusive representative of the victims. The GOI brought filed suit in US federal court on April 8, 1985. The many American cases were consolidated for pre-trial proceedings in the federal district court for the Southern District of New York. The case was assigned (by lot) to Judge John F. Keenan, at the time a relatively junior judge. Union Carbide moved to dismiss on grounds of forum non conveniens—i.e., that the case could more appropriately be tried in India.

The Court allowed discovery on matters limited to the question of where the case should proceed. The parties submitted briefs and supporting material and presented oral arguments. Judge Keenan granted the defendant’s motion to dismiss subject to some conditions, which Union Carbide accepted after modification by the Court of Appeals.

The case was re-filed in India in the District Court in Bhopal on Sep. 5, 1986. On Dec. 17, 1987, that court ordered preliminary compensation of Rs. 350 crores (then equal to about 25 million dollars). Union Carbide appealed to the High Court of Madhya Pradesh, which affirmed the order for preliminary relief, with modifications, reducing the amount of Rs. 250 crores. UCC then appealed to the Supreme Court of India. In February 1987, while the appeal was pending in the Supreme Court, UCC and the GOI reached a settlement, under which UCC paid the Government of India $480 million in dollars.

The GOI set up tribunals to determine the compensation to be paid to claimants. The tribunal process extended over more than 15 years. Because the value of the Indian rupee fell from roughly 13 to the dollar in 1987 to 45 to the dollar in 2004, the GOI ended up having a considerable residue (over $300 million) after paying the victims. In 2004 the Supreme Court ordered the remaining funds to be paid out pro rata to all those who had been compensated.

Many in India remain convinced that the culprits were let off too easily in light of the comparatively low damages payment and the absence of UCC’s chairman, Warren Anderson, from the trial that convicted his Indian subordinates.

More on Mono Lake

Mono Lake continues to inspire scholarship, with Erin Ryan recently posting "The Public Trust Doctrine, Private Water Allocation, and Mono Lake: The Historic Saga of National Audubon Society v. Superior Ct.". The abstract:

This article tells the epic tale of the fall and rise of Mono Lake — the strange and beautiful Dead Sea of California — which fostered some of the most important environmental law developments of the last century, and which has become a platform for some of the most potentially important developments in the new century. It shares the backstory and legacy of the California Supreme Court’s famous decision in National Audubon Society v. Superior Court, 658 P.2d 709 (Cal. 1983), known more widely as “the Mono Lake case.” Inspired by innovative legal scholarship and advocacy, the decision spawned a quiet legal revolution in public trust ideals, which has redounded to other states and even nations as far distant as India. 

Mono Lake (BPG)

The Mono Lake dispute pitted advocates for the local ecosystem and community against proponents of the continued export of Mono Basin water to millions of thirsty Californians hundreds of miles to the south. The controversy itself spanned decades, but the story leading up to the litigation stretches back more than a hundred years, adding depth and dimension to the tale that is easily missed on a casual reading of the Audubon Society decision itself. It is a case study on the challenges and possibilities for balancing legitimate needs for public infrastructure and economic development with competing environmental values, all within systems of law that are still evolving to manage these conflicts. And at this particular moment in time, commemorating the hundredth anniversary of the Los Angeles Aqueduct that would threaten the lake and the twentieth anniversary of the State Water Board’s ultimate decision to save it, the Mono Lake story is especially worth revisiting.

Environmental justice in India

Environmental Justice recently published Ravi Rajan's "A History of Environmental Justice in India". The abstract:

Indian environmentalism has, for the most part, been about social justice. During the 1970s and 1980s, it was concerned with differential access to natural assets and ecosystem services. The Bhopal Gas Disaster of 1984 raised new issues, pertaining to industrial risk and safety. This article traces the history of environmental justice from the 1970s onward. It describes the perspective of Indira Gandhi, India's Prime Minister from 1967 to 1984, and her attempts at reconciling the environment with development and economic justice; discusses the emergence of a red-green environmentalism during the 1980s and 90s; and explores Bhopal and its implications; before addressing the issues that are front and center today, in the early twenty-first century.

The article has some trenchant quotes from Indira Gandhi's speech, "Man and Environment", at the United Nations Conference on Human Environment at Stockholm in 1972. Here's one:

The extreme forms in which questions of population or environmental pollution are posed, obscure the total view of political, economic and social situations…It is an over-simplification to blame all the world's problems on increasing population. Countries with but a small fraction of the world population consume the bulk of the world's production of minerals, fossil fuels and so on. Thus we see that when it comes to the depletion of natural resources and environmental pollution, the increase of one inhabitant in an affluent country, at his level of living, is equivalent to an increase of many Asian, Africans or Latin Americans at their current material levels of living…All the “isms” of the modern age—even those which in theory disown the private profit principle—assume that man's cardinal interest is acquisition. The profit motive, individual or collectives, seems to overshadow all else. This overriding concern with self and today is the basic cause of the ecological crisis.

Rajan writes:

Indira Gandhi's Stockholm speech was not just a one-off rhetorical flourish in an international forum. It also came to signify the codification of India's approach to development in the second half of the twentieth century. The essence of this approach was that India would strive to harness its natural resources, and invest in modern technology to raise the quality of economic life of the average person. At the same time, efforts would also be made to conserve the environment and preserve its vital forces. Indira Gandhi recognized that there were many shades of gray, and that this grand strategy was easier to talk about rhetorically than implement in practice. For example, she grappled with the consequences of development upon India's tribal peoples and their cultures, only to reconcile the inevitability of development. Again, despite her vehement critique of Western population control advocates, she ended up presiding over an extremely coercive, government-sponsored, forced sterilization program. She lamented the increasing monocultures that resulted with the pursuit of industrial forestry by the government's own forest department but appeared frustrated that her own government did not heed her concerns. In many speeches she repeated the argument in Stockholm that Western industrialism was not a paradigm for countries like India; and articulated the need for balance and alternatives, including, for example, appropriate technology and renewable energy. Yet, she offered no concrete alternatives or pathways for environmental governance.

Environmental law in India

Saumya Umashankar has posted "Evolution of Environmental Policy and Law in India". The abstract:

The paper examines the evolution of environmental policy and law in India and the dominant influences that defined the course of policy. It identifies four distinct phases – the colonial and immediate post-colonial phase, the second phase commencing from the UN Conference on Human Environment in 1972, the Bhopal Gas leak disaster marking the milestone for the third phase and judicial activism extending over two decades as the fourth phase. In the initial colonial and post-colonial phase, environment policy was centered around State rights over forests and usage of forest produce. The dominant themes were revenue accretion and usage of forest products to fulfill development needs specifically in the spread of the railways and communication network. The post-colonial phase immediately after Independence in 1947 did not see a significant shift from the colonial period. The UN Conference on Human Environment in 1972 marked a significant milestone that changed the course of environment policy forever. The presence and participation of the Prime Minister of India in the Conference deliberations brought an immediate response in Government’s focus towards conservation actions. The period from 1972 to 1980 saw a large number of legislations being enacted. The Bhopal Gas Leak Disaster was a defining movement in India’s environmental history. The inadequacy of the governance structure in prevention of the disaster, the inability of legal and administrative processes to deliver adequate compensation to the affected people and stirring of public consciousness about the threats posed by environmental negligence came together to reshape environmental policy. A chemical leak incident in the national capital shortly after the Bhopal disaster and the death of a practicing advocate in the incident became the trigger for judicial involvement in environmental matters. The source of policy developments in environment decisively shifted from an elected political executive to an unelected judiciary. International debates on climate change in recent years and commitments to abatement measures appeared only at the fringes of policy discussions. The paper narrates the progression of environment policy and law in India in each of these phases.

Mining in Goa (Sugandh Juneja)

Fluvial landscape and the colonial state

The latest Environment and History has an article by Nitin Sinha, "Fluvial Landscape and the State: Property and the Gangetic Diaras in Colonial India, 1790s-1890s". The abstract:

from William Stanhope Sherwill,

General Remark on the District of Monghyr (Calcutta, 1848)

(from the article)

Looking at the interplay of law and revenue as a means of understanding colonial practices and policies towards diaras, this paper addresses a relatively neglected field in the agrarian-ecological history of South Asia. The constant formation and disappearance of lands due to river shifts raised several issues. Among the most important from the viewpoint of the colonial state were secure revenue extraction and the fixation of proprietorial rights. Using a number of case-studies, the paper argues that, although maximisation of revenue did not necessarily mean the dilution of the idea of the Permanent Settlement, the state throughout the nineteenth century failed to arrive at a standardised set of practices because of its own structural (bureaucratic) incoherency, ideological underpinnings and the ecological settings.

Courts and the Indian environment

Amit Singh recently posted "Judicial Activism on Environment in India". The abstract:

The Indian judiciary demonstrated willingness to exercise its power whenever the political/executive organs of the state failed to discharge their constitutional obligations effectively. This willingness has been often termed as ‘judicial activism’. Around 1980, the Indian legal system, particularly the field of environmental law, underwent a sea change in terms of discarding its moribund approach and instead, charting out new horizons of social justice. This period was characterized not only by administrative and legislative activism but also judicial activism. A subset of this has been environmental activism, which has developed in India in a very major way. One of the reasons for judicial activism in specific environmental cases has been the relaxation of the rule of locus standi giving a chance to the public to approach the Court under Articles 32 and 226 of the Indian Constitution. Also, the recognition of environmental rights as a ‘fundamental right’ under Article 21 (Right to Life) of the Indian Constitution has given a constitutional sanctity to the right to enjoy a clean and healthy environment.