As Tourism Juggernaut Moves From Maldives to Lakshadweep, Who Pays the Price?

Trouble in Paradise? Or just some good old-fashioned commerce mixed with a little bigotry against the politically weak? Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s recent endeavour regarding transforming the Lakshadweep archipelago into a new ‘hot’ tourist destination is clearly coming at the cost of a hale and hearty ecosystem.

After the election of Mohammed Muizzu to the presidency of the Maldives in 2023, bilateral ties between the two countries have been experiencing unprecedented strain. Modi’s promotion of the Lakshadweep Islands as the next tourist hotspot replacing the Maldives for Indians has led to a troubling state of affairs in the Indian Ocean.

Modi’s visit to the Lakshadweep Islands was followed by derogatory comments by a certain Maldivian minister on India’s desire to promote the archipelago as the next tourist destination.

Modi’s visit to the Lakshadweep Islands was followed by derogatory comments by a certain Maldivian minister on India’s desire to promote the archipelago as the next tourist destination.

He said, “The move is great. However, the idea of competing with us is delusional. How can they provide the service we offer? How can they be so clean? The permanent smell in the rooms will be the biggest downfall.”

This evoked a strong reaction from the Indian side and there was a significant drop in Indians visiting the Maldives and an upswing in the number of tourists visiting Lakshadweep.

As the diplomatic row continued, even industry giants from the Indian tourism sector joined in. For example, the CEO of EasyMyTrip, an Indian multinational online travel company, decided to temporarily suspend booking on flights to the Maldives to display solidarity with the Indian government, stating on X (formerly Twitter), “Our company is entirely homegrown and made in India. We have decided that we will not accept any bookings for Maldives.”

Maldives’ loss, Lakshadweep’s gain, one would think, but only if one were naïve to the ways in which modern industrial-scale tourism functions take over entire ecosystems within countries.

Rising disaffection

In the last few years, disaffection against voracious, uncontrolled tourism has been growing all over the world. City, provincial and country governments have responded with measures to make tourism ‘sustainable’, both in terms of its ecological costs as well as ensuring that the everyday lives of locals are not disturbed.

For example, in New Zealand, the country’s Indigenous Maoris take you on wilderness walks through the Urewera rainforests, which interestingly is one the first forests to be granted legal personhood. This allows travellers to experience authentic meals with the locals, learn about rare flora and fauna and experience what life would be like being one with your surroundings.

In their conservation efforts, they have also implemented plans to substantially increase visa prices and implement the International Visitor Levy (IVL), a fee paid by tourists towards the protection and conservation of their environment.

Similarly, earlier this year Venice became the first city in the world to charge a payment for visitors to the city. This fee, which comes after years of sporadic clashes and growing disaffection, is meant to discourage mass tourism in the city and make it more liveable for its residents.

Local residents have long complained that overtourism drives prices up and has been transforming the city into “a souvenir-laden theme park”. The estimated number of local residents (50,000) is far outnumbered by the number of visitors, which stood at 5.7 million in 2019.

As the diplomatic row continued, even industry giants from the Indian tourism sector joined in.

In Barcelona, Spain, the month of June saw a spike in clashes between tourists and locals. Resident protestors threw items and sprayed travellers with water guns and canned drinks, shouting ‘tourists go home’ and ‘tourists are not welcome’ slogans.

The surge in tourist numbers in the city has put pressure on the ecological and municipal resources of the city, besides dramatically increasing the cost of living, making it unsustainable for locals.

Last year, Amsterdam in the Netherlands ran a digital discouragement campaign to keep British male tourists between the ages of 18 and 35 out of the city, in an attempt to clean the city of its sleaze reputation and improve the daily life of residents.

The campaign showed males in the age group being handcuffed and taken away by the police in order to discourage others like them from visiting the city. For many years, locals have complained that drunken and doped Brits urinate in public, throw up in canals, strip off and engage in drunken brawls.

In Japan too, city governments have been struggling with post-pandemic over-tourism and its impact on the environment and public services like transport and garbage disposal.

Sometimes these clashes can have cultural and religious ramifications as well, a good example of which is the clash between tourists and officials over a new ‘dog-catcher’ policy. While Turkish authorities are trying to contain what they see as the problem of stray dogs, dog-lover foreign tourists are finding the way authorities handle the dogs inhumane, giving rise to conflict and ethical questions.

Closer home, some of the more media-visible recent clashes between tourists and visitors took place between Punjabis and Himachalis in Manikaran town of the Kullu district earlier this year. At the centre of the clashes was access to the Gurudwara at Manikaran.

The bottom line of this new area of conflict is clear from a banner used during anti-tourist protests in the Canary Islands in April this year: ‘Tourist: respect my land!’

Lakshadweep under the Modi administration

Ever since the Modi-led Union government appointed former Gujarat minister of state for home, Praful Khoda Patel as the administrator of the Union territory, the locals have been facing a maelstrom of fire, battling draconian laws, administrative practices and aggressive development plans for tourism.

Khoda has also banned beef in the mid-day meal scheme in schools, a move that showed a blatant disregard for local cultural and dietary norms.

During his time as the administrator, Khoda has instituted a variety of changes that have suffocated Lakshadweep’s local economy to make way for a robust tourist hub.

Cutting down on the frequency of ferries between Lakshadweep and the mainland from seven a day to just two, the daily lives of all the inhabitants of the archipelago who travel to Kerala for work, education or daily essentials have been heavily impacted.

This move has triggered unrest among the people, especially students, but rather than addressing these issues, the government created a completely new ferry route between Lakshadweep and Mangaluru.

The ferry line, christened the ‘Parali’, was launched by the Lakshadweep Islands Tourism Development Authority (LITDA), cutting down travel time between the archipelago and the Indian mainland significantly from thirteen hours to just five.

It sounds great for tourists to reach their holiday destination in record-breaking time, but not much heed has been paid to the route frequented by the locals.

Khoda has also banned beef in the mid-day meal scheme in schools, a move that showed a blatant disregard for the cultural and dietary norms of an archipelago where beef is a staple and Muslims constitute 96.5 percent of the population.

Most importantly though, he has brought in the Draft Lakshadweep Development Authority Regulation, 2021 (LDAR) that gives him, as administrator, special powers to remove or relocate islanders from their property, ostensibly for development projects— in simpler words, he has institutionalised land grabbing. This would imply that if tourism were to be considered ‘development’, the government has unbridled powers to exploit the archipelago as it wishes.

The draft, which has been described as ‘anti-people’, defines ‘development’ in an extremely narrow and restrictive sense, as carrying out building activities, engineering, mining, quarrying or causing any material change to land (or a hill).

Pertinently, the draft was published only in English and not in Malayalam, giving residents only a few days to comment during a time when the Covid pandemic was rampant.

There have been protests against these moves, including in the Kerala legislative assembly, where demands for the protection of people’s livelihoods and the removal of Khoda have been made.

Another controversial act introduced by the administration was the Prevention of Anti-Social Activities Act, which gives the administrator the power to detain a person without legal representation for up to a year if he thinks they are committing acts prejudiced to the maintenance of public order.

The government recently began cutting down coconut trees on Pandaram lands, but were temporarily stopped by a stay Order from the Kerala High Court.

Under the Act, the administrator also has the power to withhold the reasons for arrest, citing ‘public interest’.

A history

To understand the complex issues surrounding these islands it is important to first take a look at their history and relevance.

The Pandaram lands were originally passed from Tipu Sultan to the Arakkal Beevi, a royal family from Kerala, and eventually the British. During the reign of the Arakkal Beevi, the land was given to the local population to cultivate on as per a lessee–lessor agreement.

These collective rights over the island were given to the entire community through their village heads, and rules were created to ensure that the environment continued to be preserved.

Even though they are commonly called the ‘uninhabited islands’, their vital role in the livelihoods of the people should not be underplayed. These islands are used for agriculture, cultivating coconuts and fishing, providing the people with a rotation of seasonal employment derived from the islands.

Fast forward to 1965, the Lakshadweep Revenue and Tenancy Regulation was framed to clarify Pandaram land ownership. Tenants who had been living and residing on Pandaram lands were allotted them under the 1965 Regulations. Though they were legally not the owners, as occupants their rights were respected and the government seldom interfered in the islands’ affairs.

Considering the ‘Scheduled Tribe’ status of this Muslim population, the transfer of land rights to non-inhabitants was restricted under the 1965 Regulations. Consequently, the locals frequently gave out the Pandaram lands under their control to the government for fair compensation for various purposes, but with the 2021 Regulation, even the requirement of fair compensation or voluntary transfer of property by the local Muslims to the government has been done away with.

One of the most recent projects in conversation is the military and civil airport to be constructed in the southern part of the Minicoy islands.

The government, through these various drafts and regulations, has been laying the foundation for tourism to become the pulse of the island, and the falling out with the Maldives after their negative comments by ministers and withdrawal of the Indian army has laid the perfect path leading to it.

Dealing with the fragile ecology of the islands

The government recently began cutting down coconut trees on Pandaram lands but were temporarily stopped by a stay Order from the Kerala High Court. The Order restrained the respondents from taking any coercive action or eviction of the islanders in possession of Pandaram lands, till September 15, 2024, pending final disposal of the writ petition, but the government has allegedly continued marking trees presumably for the purpose of felling.

One of the most recent projects in conversation is the military and civil airport to be constructed in the southern part of the Minicoy islands. Initially, the airport was proposed to be built in the barren northern part, but now the plan has been shifted to the south. Shockingly, one of the few parts of the island on which the residents are able to do some cultivation.

The archipelago consists of a complex web of islands, coral reefs, lagoons and mangroves supported by a variety of flora and fauna. Its ecology is resilient to the natural changes around it but bulldozing through the islands in the name of development could prove catastrophic.

It is imperative that the government strike a balance between preserving the environment and protecting the rights of the locals and pursuing development with a sustainable approach. To analyse whether there is a need for wider roads and more buildings, and most importantly ask the question, who are they doing it for? And is this the right time and place for bulldozer politics or the use of a gentle hand?

A sustainable model for tourism in the islands should focus on indigenous-led tourism similar to New Zealand.

It is most important in the era of climate change to promote sustainable models of development that balance the environment and tourism with the purpose of employment. Advocating policies where the local people are fairly compensated for others’ enjoyment of their land should be instituted.

A sustainable model for tourism in the islands should focus on indigenous-led tourism similar to New Zealand. Charging a special fee to tourists that goes directly into the conservation and protection of the environment could go a long way in terms of protecting the Islands. Having the locals heavily involved in preserving the biodiversity of the area and promoting tourism for nature instead of tourism for pure pleasure’s sake.

On the global stage, this could set a precedent for other nations to implement indigenous-led tourism models, protecting the planet in the destructive times of climate change, and protecting people’s peace in a profit-driven world.

Anaaha Jaishankar is a student at NMIMS School of Law, Mumbai.