The Definition That Sparked Fear

Authorities proposed a definition that used a 100-metre elevation cutoff and a 500-metre proximity rule between hills. That formula alarmed environmentalists and communities. Many feared that large parts of the range would lose legal protection. If maps shrink, forests shrink, grazing commons shrink, water systems shrink, sacred groves shrink. Protections against mining and forced migration weaken.

Therefore, the definition debate carries immediate consequences. Communities fear fragmentation. They fear displacement. They fear the collapse of systems that sustained them for centuries.

Shelter, Warfare and Sovereignty

Hari Ram Meena, tribal writer and former IPS officer, calls the Aravallis a living god. He insists that the mountains shape identity and survival. Rajasthan’s oldest communities have long lived within these hills. The Meena tribe once ruled large parts of Jaipur. They controlled strategic passes before the rise of the Kachwaha Rajputs. In southern Rajasthan, Bhil chieftains governed vast forested tracts.

The Bhils earned the title “kings of the forest.” Even the royal coat of arms of Mewar displays a Rajput warrior alongside a Bhil warrior. This symbol acknowledges shared power.

The mountains also shaped resistance. Maharana Pratap used the Aravallis to wage guerrilla warfare against the Mughals. He relied on forest knowledge, hidden passes, and water sources. The terrain became strategy.

Ecological Spine of Rajasthan

The Aravallis regulate climate. They check desertification. They feed rivers such as the Banas, Luni, and Sabarmati. They help forests survive in an arid landscape. Moreover, they separate river systems flowing toward the Arabian Sea and the Bay of Bengal.

They also shape traditions and languages. Communities such as the Bhil, Meena, Garasia, Saharia, Raika, Rewari, Mogia, Nath, and Gurjar treat the mountains as a living presence. Temples, sacred groves, and hilltop shrines dot the landscape while people call the mountains a prakriti tirtha — a sacred geography.

Forest, Water and Everyday Survival

Life in the Aravallis revolves around forests, livestock, and water and communities collect fuelwood, bamboo, tendu leaves, medicinal herbs, and wild fruits. They practice rain-fed terraced farming. They grow millets and pulses. They graze cattle, sheep, goats, and camels along hill slopes.

Traditional water systems sustain survival. Communities build and maintain johads, stepwells, nadis, and baoris and they harvest rainwater and recharge groundwater collectively. Hari Ram Meena stresses that community ethics protect these systems more than laws do.

Social activist Kunj Bihari Sharma highlights the interdependence between humans and wildlife. In summer, wild animals rely on village wells and grazing areas while humans and animals survive together.

Mining, Displacement and Livelihood Crisis

However, state control over forests changed the balance. Authorities declared forests as state property. They restricted community-led construction of johads. Meanwhile, illegal mining and stone mafias hollowed out hills.

Denotified and nomadic communities suffer the most. Gopal Keshawat, former chairperson of the Development and Welfare Board for Denotified, Nomadic, and Semi-Nomadic Communities, warns of deep livelihood crises while Pastoral groups depend on livestock, milk, wool, and leather. When grazing lands vanish, their economy collapses.

Keshawat estimates that nearly 10% of India’s nomadic population and over one crore people in Rajasthan depend on Aravalli ecosystems. He recalls that the Ayyangar Committee and the Balkrishna Renke Commission recommended mining bans and separate grazing lands for DNT communities. Policymakers ignored these recommendations. As a result, both humans and animals face equal risk.

Living Mountains and Sacred Protection

Yet culture still protects biodiversity and across Rajasthan, communities preserve orans — sacred groves dedicated to deities like Bhadarva Dev and Pandurimata. Social sanctions prevent tree cutting and hunting.

The Bhil community performs the Gawari dance for 45 days in parts of Udaipur district and men dedicate the ritual to Shiva and Parvati. Activist Kishan Gurjar explains that Gawari represents worship of nature, not entertainment also the performance spreads conservation ethics.

Nomadic groups such as the Sapera or Kalbelia also share deep ecological knowledge. Social justice researcher Navin Narayan notes that Kalbelia communities once protected villages from snakes. They understood forest behavior and treated snake bites. However, mining and forest loss now threaten both their livelihoods and knowledge systems.

Culture, Language and Living Memory

The Aravallis also shape art. Along the Banas River lies Molela village, known for terracotta deities. Potter Prabhu Gameti credits the mountains for the clay’s quality. The smooth, flexible clay does not crack when fired. Therefore, idols last generations.

Researcher and folk artist Madan Meena warns that environmental destruction erases culture. When livelihoods collapse, migration begins. When migration increases, languages disappear. The region hosts more than two dozen languages and dialects, many preserved orally. When an art form dies, its vocabulary dies with it.

Communities such as the Mogiya gather medicinal herbs. The Nath sect maintains shrines like Pandupol deep within the hills. Jain temples, Buddhist remnants, and folk shrines coexist across the range. History professor C S Sharma argues that the Aravallis prevented cultural homogenization in Mewar. Geography ensured diversity.

Beyond Physical Measurement

Activist Manish Barod stresses that indigenous communities protected the hills just as the hills protected them. Sociologist Shyam Sunder Jyani describes the Aravallis as a socioecological organism. He argues that reducing them to physical measurements denies their reality.

Ultimately, the debate concerns more than elevation and distance. It concerns Rajasthan’s living memory. The Aravallis shaped its languages, rituals, art forms, pastoral systems, and water ethics over millennia.

Therefore, any new definition must recognize this living bond. Otherwise, India risks losing not only forests and hills, but also an entire civilizational landscape intertwined with people, faith, and survival.