What Happens When The Frontlines Go Quiet?
Imagine you are standing in the middle of a desert in western India, among solar panels that stretch for miles, marking territory that once belonged to the Maldharis, a pastoral community from Gujarat. It’s an Indian summer, the temperature is a scorching 50 degrees Celsius. Now imagine surviving this every year when what was once open grazing land can no longer provide sustenance for people and animals.
Author: Nina Sangma/ILC | Photos: (c) Jason Taylor/ILC
This is Charanka village in Gujarat, the site of one of Asia’s largest solar parks.
From a distance, these projects signal climate progress, man-made sun worshippers, row after row of silicon against blue skies, harvesting light. On the ground, they raise a harder question: what will happen when the frontlines go quiet, when the guardians of fragile ecosystems migrate to urban areas in search of survival?
According to a UN report, "by 2050, two-thirds of global growth is projected to occur in cities and the remainder in towns."
It is therefore critical, as the report suggests, to “achieve balanced territorial development, countries must adopt integrated national policies that align housing, land use, mobility, and public services across urban and rural areas.”
So, who is paying for the green transition?
Pastoralist women attend the Asia Pastoralist Women's Gathering in Ahmedabad, India.
A group of young pastoral women, day 1
In December last year, more than 150 pastoralist women leaders from across Asia gathered in Gujarat, India, for the Asian Pastoralists Women Gathering (APWG), the largest regional assembly of pastoralist women in fifteen years. Organized by ILC members, the Maldhari Rural Action Group (MARAG), along with the South Asian Pastoralists Alliance, Pastoral Women's Group & co-covened with the Central Asian Pastoralists Alliance, the meeting came as governments focus on the UN’s International Year of Rangelands and Pastoralists (IYRP 2026) and the International Year of Women Farmers (IYRF 2026).
The stakes are enormous.
According to the International Land Coalition and the global IYRP campaign, rangelands cover roughly 25% of the Earth’s land surface and support nearly 500 million people worldwide. These landscapes store carbon, preserve biodiversity, and sustain food systems in some of the world’s most climate-vulnerable regions.
Yet the women who sustain pastoralism remain largely invisible in climate policy.
They face what advocates describe as a “double marginalisation”: excluded as women and sidelined as mobile land users whose rights are rarely secured in formal systems.
If climate justice is serious about equity, pastoralist women must be at its centre.
Semenou Ankou, village Chief, Illico Ogome
“Even if the children want to stay.”
Maldhari women Jivatiben and Lasuben, whom I met at the Asia Pastoralist Women’s Gathering in Ahmedabad last December, told me,
“Yes, we have cattle, but the grazing land is not there anymore.”
She is referring to gauchar, village commons that historically allowed herders to move livestock in response to erratic rainfall. Mobility is not cultural nostalgia. It is an ecological adaptation.
“Even if the children want to join livestock work,” she says quietly, “there is no land.”
Wind and solar energy projects have expanded across Kutch. Roads fragment grazing routes. Access narrows multifold for women, multiplying gender based issues like safe healthcare and education for pastoralists. The parks that symbolise decarbonisation now stand on land that once buffered drought and sustained local economies.
Renewable energy is essential. But mitigation cannot come at the cost of communities that have long managed these landscapes sustainably.
Jivatiben and Lasuben, Gujarat, India, (c) Nina Sangma
Solar power, water scarcity, and exclusion
From the location of her lived experience in Charanka village in Patan district, in the western state of Gujarat, Sunny Rabari, who is in her early 20s, describes what large-scale solar development has meant for pastoralists.
Water comes from a single rain-fed lake shared by people, livestock, and pasture. Desertification is accelerating. Women travel up to fifty kilometres for healthcare. Jobs at the solar plant are mostly reserved for literate men from the community.
Sources say much of the land was purchased by the company for the project, while the remaining land is largely arid and faces severe water shortages. Despite solar panels being installed on the land, the landowners do not receive free electricity.
Large-scale land acquisitions, whether for agribusiness, mining, or renewable energy, frequently occur in areas governed by customary tenure systems. Women, in particular, are less likely to hold formal documentation, making them especially vulnerable to exclusion.
Green energy must not reproduce old patterns of land injustice.
Sunny Rabari, a young pastoralist. (c) Nina Sangma
"When the solar company first approached us, what they offered seemed lucrative,”
Rabari, a college graduate, says.
“But in the long run, what we truly need is education so that we can make informed decisions for the greater good and future of our community.”
From the location of her lived experience in Charanka village in Patan district, in the western state of Gujarat, Sunny Rabari, who is in her early 20s, describes what large-scale solar development has meant for pastoralists.
Water comes from a single rain-fed lake shared by people, livestock, and pasture. Desertification is accelerating. Women travel up to fifty kilometres for healthcare. Jobs at the solar plant are mostly reserved for literate men from the community.
Sources say much of the land was purchased by the company for the project, while the remaining land is largely arid and faces severe water shortages. Despite solar panels being installed on the land, the landowners do not receive free electricity.
“When the solar company first approached us, what they offered seemed lucrative,” Rabari, a college graduate, says. “But in the long run, what we truly need is education so that we can make informed decisions for the greater good and future of our community.”
Large-scale land acquisitions, whether for agribusiness, mining, or renewable energy, frequently occur in areas governed by customary tenure systems. Women, in particular, are less likely to hold formal documentation, making them especially vulnerable to exclusion.
Green energy must not reproduce old patterns of land injustice.
[Video: Day 1 recap]
Climate stress and shrinking migration routes
In another Western Indian state, Maharashtra, pastoralist women Kamalbai and Ranjabai Shelke describe how climate change itself is altering migration:
“Climate change has deeply affected us. Rainfall has reduced, and this has impacted our grazing routes and our entire way of life.”
Their community once migrated nearly 350 kilometres annually. Now the journey grows more uncertain each year.
“As mothers, we want our children to have a better and easier life,” they say. “But this also means that the next generation may not continue pastoralism.”
They are clear that migration to cities is not necessarily an aspiration.
“The truth is that this migration is often unwilling. No one truly wants to live away from their community in urban isolation.”
Strengthening tenure and protecting mobility corridors is not about preserving tradition for its own sake. It is about climate resilience and rural stability.
Choosing to stay, if supported
Kamalbai and Ranjabai Shelk, (c) Nina Sangma
Tsewang Choden, a young pastoralist from Bhutan
In Dur Village in Bhutan’s highlands, Tsewang Choden made a deliberate choice.
“I chose to stay behind… to continue our pastoralist way of life without losing it for the generations to come. The climate is harsh, the work requires intense physical labour, and we often live in isolation… We are determined to stay, provided we receive support from the government.”
Her message to youth is pragmatic:
“It is not always necessary to live abroad to succeed… If you work hard with determination and passion, over time things will improve.”
"The government should create special policies to support young herders… If rural areas had stronger support, fewer young people would feel the need to leave.”
In Mongolia, Jigjid Ijilseg observes another shift,
“Many young people return to the steppes from the cities because of pollution and overcrowding… Especially those who have families begin to prefer the countryside.”
But she also sees tension.
“Many young women are now highly educated and often do not see themselves marrying men who are pastoralists.”
As a mother, she wants choice. Yet she worries pastoralism could slowly fade.
Jigjid Ijilseg, a pastoralist from Mongolia, (c) Nina Sangma
The Mera Declaration
Fifteen years ago, pastoralist women from 32 countries gathered in Gujarat and issued the Mera Declaration, demanding recognition of mobility, secure grazing rights, and women’s leadership.
Today, they are pushing further.
Bhavana Rabari of the Maldhari Rural Action Group puts it plainly:
“We are revisiting the Mera Declaration after 15 years and asking: what has changed on the ground for women pastoralists? We expect clear commitments to turn words into action.”
“Women are the knowledge holders, the organisers, and the quiet leaders of pastoral systems. Their voices must shape the decisions and investments that define this year and beyond.”
Read the MERA15 Declaration
And follow ILC's Mobility Matters campaign for more on the work of our members
[Video recap of day 2]
