A multichannel mammoth stretching up to 10 kilometers (six miles) wide, the Brahmaputra River in Assam causes havoc every year when it floods. Now climate change is intensifying the hydrological cycle.
Brian Orland, a Fulbright-Nehru Fellow, is starting a nine-month study on climate change adaptation along the Brahmaputra River, where the environment challenges the region faces are likely to be repeated in other parts of developing Asia.
His relationship with the Brahmaputra began at a Mumbai research institution in 2008 within the context of a larger study on Himalayan water security. Now on his ninth extended visit, he calls India his second home. For the last 10 weeks, he has been learning Bangla in Kolkata and is now transitioning into speaking and reading Assamese.
Back in Raj times, in the Assam highlands, British planters once sipped gin and tonics on verandahs overlooking endless rows of glistening green tea bushes. Today, climate refugees set their sights upon these same lands as they scramble up from the swirling waters and crumbling banks of the Brahmaputra River.
Scientists predict that climate change will worsen the flooding, and yet more and more people are surging into the Brahmaputra basin. Land is becoming scarce as waves of migrants pour in from nearby Bangladesh. Whole communities are pushed to live on the edge of embankments and amorphous islands.
Assam may be emblematic of the kind of catastrophe soon to hit much of developing Asia. Accelerating environmental change—sea-level rise in Bangladesh, say, or desertification in China—could exacerbate rising population pressures in a vicious feedback loop.
Land issues have always been at the heart of Assam’s long-simmering ethnic conflicts. But now, with the land near the limit of its carrying capacity, the crisis could become explosive.
This is the setting for my nine-month study on human responses to environmental change. I will stay in rural, often remote, villages to document how families are interacting with a vulnerable and volatile landscape. What I find will likely be a leading indicator for the future of developing Asia as the impacts of climate change take hold.
When I last visited Assam this past September, a particularly bad flooding season was ending with devastating crescendo. The flood waters burst embankments and reached areas that rarely experience flood. Peripatetic tributaries lashed out of control across the landscape.
Floodwaters affected over a million and a half people and destroyed thousands of houses. The important summer paddy crop was completely crushed, leaving subsistence farmers with nothing to show for their efforts.
Climate change models indicate that floods of this magnitude will become increasingly common in the future.
Over the last six decades, India has become warmer. The effect of that temperature change on the Indian monsoon is still poorly understood, but it seems to be pushing the weather system to the extremes.
What is clear is that monsoonal patterns are changing. Some places like the Western Ghats in south India are receiving less rainfall, while other places such as the Brahmaputra Basin here in northeast India are experiencing more destructive bursts of rain.
Assam is one of the places most sensitive to these changes. The hydrological cycle shapes the soft alluvial soil of the Assam plains and nurtures the agrarian economy. The Brahmaputra moves enormous amounts of sediment, while making and breaking river banks and thousands of islands.
Now, with the once-predictable monsoon becoming a wild card, one of the unruliest rivers in the world is growing increasingly tempestuous. As a result, more people will become vulnerable to floods, and those who normally experience floods will face harsher conditions.
After a disastrous flood season, it is a particularly relevant time to investigate how people are responding to this uncertain environmental future.
While villages I observe will have faced devastating impacts from floods, many have already developed ways to adapt. They build their houses on stilts, shift their agricultural calendar and methods, or put in place faster flood alert systems. So, along with scenes of loss and struggle, you will see on-the-ground innovators who have found smarter ways to live with floods.
After all, this is not some conundrum for policy wonks to strategize. Nor has the government done much to slow the damage. The thousands of villages dotting Assam’s flood plain each experience these challenges in their own unique context.
It makes sense, then, that effective solutions will be devised and implemented at the local level. Can some of these local innovations show the way forward for other communities to find a better way to live with floods?
Brian Orland’s dispatches will appear in India Ink every two weeks. What’s next: A conversation with a hydrologist and a historian in Assam’s capital, Guwahati.
