The Ganges is one of the greatest rivers on Earth, but it is dying.
From the icy Himalayan peaks, where it begins, right down to the Bay of
Bengal, it is being slowly poisoned.
The Ganges is revered in India but it is also the sewer that carries
away the waste from the 450 million people who live in its catchment area.
Pollution from the factories and farms of the fastest-growing large
economy in the world – and from the riverside cremation of Hindu true believers
- has turned its waters toxic.
The Indian Prime Minister, Narendra Modi, promised two years ago to
clean up the Ganges, but can he do it?
Can the sacred mother of Hinduism be saved?
The Swami
The source of the Ganges lies among the soaring, snow-clad peaks of the
Himalayas.
As a rose-pink dawn rises over the jagged teeth of the mountains, the
valley where the river begins remains in deep shadow.
It takes hours for the sun to scale the great crags. Only then does a
single shaft of sunlight finally penetrate into the chasm.
It strikes a glacier called Gangotri, suddenly illuminating its cloudy
blue and white depths.
It is easy to understand why this is one of the most sacred sites in
all Hinduism. Up here in the cold fresh air the great shimmering body of frozen
water appears radiantly pure.
At the foot of the glacier there is a cave in the ice. This is
“Gaumukh”, the cow’s mouth, and the chuckling stream of crystal clear icy water
that emerges from it is the beginning of the Ganges.
Ma
Ganga, it
is known in Hindi: “Mother Ganges”. It’s an apt name - the Ganges has nurtured
and supported the rise of Indian civilisation.
As the stream snakes down from the mountains it gathers pace and
volume, joined by hundreds of others bringing snowmelt from the vast Himalayan
watershed.
But studies show that even here in the Himalayas the water is becoming
increasingly polluted.
And the further you descend, the more pronounced the legendary river’s
problems become.
In the holy city of Rishikesh, Swami Chidanand Saraswati is leading the
evening aarti, a Hindu fire ceremony.
He is an irrepressibly cheerful man, the flickering light of the butter
candles he circles in front of him twinkle in his eyes as he chants and sings
along with the music. About 50 monks take part, watched by a couple of hundred
devotees.
These river aartis are a celebration of the Ganges. A similar ritual is
performed in towns and villages all along the 2,500km-long (1,500-mile) river.
All day pilgrims have been descending to the water to bathe, part of an
ancient ritual of purification.
Hindus revere the Ganges as a god. They believe she came down from
heaven to cleanse the Earth, and that bathing in her waters can wash away a
person’s sins.
The Swami has built the ashram into a huge enterprise. He glances down
modestly when I ask how many followers he has. “Perhaps a million,” he replies.
But his demeanour changes when I ask about pollution in the river. His brow
furrows.
Too many people think the Ganges not only purifies sin but also has the
power to cleanse itself, he says.
Sitting here by the Ganga I can tell you, before we take a bath in the
Ganga we need to give Ganga a bath.”
“People think Ganga can take care of my sins, can take care of
anything, and they forget that while Ganga can take care of your sins it cannot
take care of your waste, of your pollution.”
Campaigning for a serious effort to clean the river, he says, occupies
most of his time. He is in no doubt that India is killing the Ganges, “killing
its own mother”, he says, and he is determined to save her.
For me if Ganga dies, India dies. If Ganga thrives, India thrives.”
The prime minister, Narendra Modi, a Hindu nationalist, also sees
cleaning up the Ganges as nothing less than a mission from God.
“Ma Ganga has called me,” he told the crowd at his victory celebration,
when he was swept to power in a landslide victory two years ago.
“She has decided some responsibilities for me. Ma Ganga is screaming
for help, she is saying I hope one of my sons gets me out of this filth,” he
said. “It is possible it has been decided by God for me to serve Ma Ganga.”
He has pledged serious money to his Clean Ganga Mission - more than
$3bn (£2bn) over five years.
Quite deliberately he has chosen this as one of his signature projects,
knowing that it is symbolic of an even bigger challenge - India’s effort to
lift its people out of poverty and to become a modern world power.
Previous Indian leaders launched similar initiatives. In the 1980s
Rajiv Gandhi began a huge programme of public works, building sewers and water
treatment plants, for example.
But they didn’t solve the problem. In fact, the Ganges has steadily
become more and more polluted.
So what can be done?
The campaigner
Rakesh Jaiswal believes he has a good idea where to begin.
The veteran environmental campaigner has told me to meet him in the
industrial area of Kanpur.
Kanpur is the centre of India’s vast leather industry, and Jaiswal
believes it is the dirtiest city in the entire country.
Most of the leather produced in Kanpur is exported, much of it to
Europe and the US. More likely than not you own products that use leather from
Kanpur.
“Follow me,” he orders, before vanishing into a web of high-walled
alleyways.
This modest, plump man has pretty much single-handedly led the campaign
to clean up the leather industry in his home city for more than two decades.
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