From Green Haven to Concrete Maze: The Silent Disappearance of Trees in Gilgit

By Syed Shams Uddin It is said that in Japan, trees standing in the path of urban development or road construction are often relocated rather than cut down. This practice stands as a remarkable testament to the country’s deep-rooted respect for nature and unwavering commitment to environmental preservation. Unlike many parts of the world, where rapid urbanization frequently results in large-scale deforestation and the loss of mature trees, Japan has developed highly sophisticated and prudent methods to protect and relocate trees, fully recognizing their invaluable role in both the ecosystem and the cultural heritage. Relocating trees is far from a simple endeavor. It is a meticulous, highly specialized process requiring careful planning, expert knowledge, and precision execution. Arboriculture and horticulture experts play a crucial role in ensuring that each tree is safely transplanted to a new environment. Before any relocation effort begins, extensive assessments are conducted to evaluate the tree’s health, root structure, and adaptability. Special care is taken to bind and protect the roots—vital lifelines for the tree—to minimize transplant shock and prevent damage. Advanced techniques such as soil stabilization and hydration management are employed to maintain the tree’s vitality during the transition phase. This approach exemplifies the ideal harmony between human progress and environmental stewardship. Rather than viewing trees as obstacles to infrastructure projects, Japan treats them as living entities deserving of respect and preservation. This philosophy reflects the nation’s traditional beliefs, particularly those rooted in Shintoism, which regards nature as sacred and worthy of reverence. Ancient trees, in particular, are often seen as spiritual symbols, whose protection is viewed not merely as an ecological duty but as an ethical obligation. Beyond cultural reverence, tree relocation offers significant ecological benefits. Trees act as natural air purifiers, absorbing carbon dioxide and releasing oxygen while filtering pollutants. Their expansive canopies provide shade, mitigate urban heat island effects, and cool the environment. Trees also prevent soil erosion, support biodiversity by providing habitats for countless species, and contribute to the mental and emotional well-being of communities by creating serene green spaces. Japan’s model of tree conservation stands as an inspiring example for the world. It proves that urbanization and environmental preservation are not mutually exclusive, but can, through thoughtful planning and sustainable practices, coexist beautifully. By prioritizing relocation over destruction, Japan adopts a forward-looking approach that preserves both the aesthetic charm of urban landscapes and the vital ecological balance, ensuring that future generations inherit vibrant, life-sustaining environments. Encouragingly, a similar practice of relocating trees has occasionally been observed in Islamabad, where the Capital Development Authority (CDA) sometimes opts for tree transplantation when removals are unavoidable. This shows a commendable level of environmental awareness and a conscious effort to balance infrastructure expansion with ecological preservation. However, such conscientious practices have yet to take root widely in regions like Gilgit-Baltistan, where indiscriminate tree felling for construction, road development, and housing projects continues unchecked. This unfortunate trend has profoundly impacted the natural landscape of Gilgit-Baltistan, particularly in rapidly urbanizing centers. Trees, essential to environmental stability, play a critical role in maintaining ecological balance, preventing soil erosion, enhancing air quality, and uplifting the visual and emotional appeal of places. In Gilgit, the provincial capital, reckless cutting of trees has left a visible scar. Once rich with diverse species—majestic chinars and towering willows among them—the city has seen a systematic erosion of its green cover over the decades. A particularly striking example is the transformation of what is now known as the Airport Road. Up until the 1960s, this stretch was lined with stately willow trees that provided shade, beauty, and environmental benefits. However, during road expansion efforts in the late 1960s, these aged trees—many of which had stood for decades—were mercilessly felled in the name of development. Their absence dramatically altered the landscape, stripping Gilgit of an irreplaceable natural asset. Similarly, two grand watercourses that once enriched Gilgit’s landscape were lined with mature willows that contributed to the region’s biodiversity and served as natural barriers against soil erosion. These too were sacrificed for urban growth, with little regard for the long-term ecological consequences. A captivating video posted by Karakoram Wonders the other day vividly brought these memories flooding back. It inspired this scribe to journey down memory lane, recalling the era until the 1960s when the region lay in its pristine, glorious state. The video captured a breathtaking spectacle: a majestic watercourse, brimming with crystal-clear, potable water, coursing through the landscape — nourishing both human life and the lush, paddled farmlands it embraced. It evoked a deep, almost aching nostalgia for a time when the natural grandeur of Gilgit-Baltistan remained pure, untouched, and unspoiled. In those days, even Gilgit—then a modest township—was blessed with a network of magnificent dalejas (irrigation channels) carrying water of such exceptional purity that distributary channels crisscrossed the entire area, offering fresh drinking water to all. So pristine was the flow that water descending from the second daleja down to Gilgit Bazaar, skirting the PWD Rest House, remained fit for direct human consumption. The concept of a labyrinthine maze of water pipes was then utterly foreign — nature itself was the sole, flawless provider. The pattern of environmental degradation that has since unfolded is deeply concerning. Continued loss of trees and natural waterways not only accelerates climate challenges—such as rising temperatures and increased flood risks—but also strips the city of its natural beauty and ecological resilience. Unlike Islamabad, where some efforts are made to relocate trees, Gilgit-Baltistan has yet to adopt sustainable urban planning practices that prioritize conservation alongside development. If the trend of unchecked deforestation and unregulated urban expansion continues, the consequences could be dire. Gilgit-Baltistan already faces heightened climate vulnerabilities, including glacial melting and erratic weather patterns. The removal of trees exacerbates these threats by reducing moisture retention, accelerating soil degradation, and making the urban landscape more vulnerable to extreme climatic events. It is imperative that policymakers, local authorities, and communities in Gilgit-Baltistan recognize the critical ecological value of trees and act urgently to protect them. Alternative solutions such as tree transplantation, afforestation, and sustainable land-use planning must be prioritized. Development must proceed hand-in-hand with nature, ensuring that future generations inherit a green, livable, and resilient homeland. Once a verdant paradise that would burst into lush greenery with the arrival of spring, the farmlands of old Gilgit have been relentlessly consumed by unchecked, unplanned settlements. Gradual yet relentless encroachment has transformed what was once a thriving agricultural landscape into a dense tapestry of concrete structures, erasing the natural beauty that once defined the city. In the past, these fertile farmlands—interspersed with fruit-bearing trees, poplars, and willows—not only provided sustenance but also contributed significantly to the region’s ecological health. They cooled the environment, improved air quality, and created visually soothing landscapes. However, with the accelerating pace of urbanization, these green spaces were sacrificed to meet the rising demand for housing and commercial activity. Unlike carefully planned urban expansions that incorporate green belts and parks, development in Gilgit has largely been chaotic and unregulated, favoring construction over conservation. Consequently, the city, once characterized by a harmonious blend of nature and human settlement, now grapples with the harsh impacts of rapid urbanization. The loss of trees has intensified the urban heat island effect, while declining vegetation has exacerbated dust pollution and deteriorated air quality, making life less pleasant for its inhabitants. Reflecting on the past, one cannot forget the once-flourishing garden of Fateh Vagh that thrived beside the John Biddulph Library until the 1970s. This serene green space served as a beloved sanctuary for students of Gilgit’s only government boys’ high school, offering a tranquil place to study and prepare for examinations. Tragically, this lush retreat was obliterated to make way for the construction of the Deputy Commissioner’s bungalow, followed later by the establishment of the Girls’ High School. Another poignant example is the fate of Chinar Bagh, once a pristine green expanse, sacrificed for the construction of the Chief Minister’s House and a nearby hall. These developments, which could have been accommodated elsewhere, resulted in the irreversible loss of vital green spaces, exposing a persistent neglect of environmental considerations in urban planning. This transformation was not the outcome of thoughtful urban development but a glaring example of haphazard growth. Authorities failed to adopt a visionary Master Plan that could have guided the city’s expansion while preserving its natural heritage. Consequently, Gilgit lost invaluable green lungs that could have sustained its environment and enhanced its urban character. The loss of farmland and green spaces marks more than an environmental concern—it represents the erosion of a way of life. Generations who once lived in harmony with nature, tending orchards and fields, now find themselves confined within an ever-expanding concrete jungle, far removed from the landscapes their ancestors cherished. To counteract this alarming trend, urgent measures must be taken to reintegrate green spaces into Gilgit’s urban planning. Initiatives promoting afforestation, vertical gardens, and sustainable land-use practices must be prioritized. Community-led campaigns encouraging tree planting and conservation could help restore some of the lost green cover, ensuring that future generations are not deprived of the life-sustaining presence of trees. In short, there is an urgent need to learn from the deplorable state of old Gilgit, where unchecked urban sprawl in the complete absence of a Master Plan has led to serious environmental degradation. In light of this, it becomes imperative that the adjoining localities of Sakwar, Minawar, and the rapidly expanding mega-township of Danyore be subjected to strict regulatory oversight. Any ongoing or future development in these areas must conform to a well-conceived Master Plan—assuming one exists—to safeguard future generations from the grave consequences of unplanned human concentrations, including environmental hazards and a declining quality of life. A conscious, disciplined approach to urban expansion today is crucial for ensuring a sustainable, resilient, and greener tomorrow.