We’re at an inflection point in climate politics, where some governments are readying 30- and 40-year carbon-neutral plans and others are looking to coast into the next decade with pledges that are already five years old. Meanwhile people who have always suffered are contending with the fallout of inaction in the here and now. We need to align these two timelines and to broaden our definition of climate justice, if we are to achieve any measure of justice for the most vulnerable.
With blue skies in Delhi and the Himalayas peeking out of Punjab’s smog, you’d be forgiven for thinking covid-19 has inadvertently cleaned up pollution-choked parts of India, the world’s third largest emitter and home to its most polluted cities. Instead, in the months leading up to India’s lockdown, Prime Minister Narendra Modi was busy opening up a fossil fuel expansion at home and abroad.
The chemical factory that leaked gas into a coastal Indian city on Thursday morning, killing at least 12 people and putting hundreds in hospital, was operating illegally until at least the middle of 2019. A special investigation for The Guardian.
Last week, a whistle rang out in a buzzing conference fairground on the edge of Madrid. Instantly, a swell of protesters rose up, determined to “bring in the streets and tear down the walls”, enraged that the annual UN climate talks had wound to a grinding deadlock. Two days from a close, the talks had not yet produced a single line of text. Instead, while Sydney burned, Australia used an “accounting loophole” to cover for its poor climate record. Do politicians even live on the same planet?
Fly out of Delhi and you can see it: a band of grey smog, so thick it blots out the sun. Tune in carefully and you’ll hear it, too: a subtle symphony of snorts, coughs and wheezing.
To the untrained nose, Delhi’s air is a potent bouquet. High notes of charred biomass mingle with sulphurous remnants of Diwali bonfires, with base notes of subsidised diesel, burned plastic and coal.
I moved there in early 2017. To me, a relative outsider from south-east India who spent her 20s trying to draw att...
An investigation on how the Adani group has wielded political influence to keep India, Australia and Bangladesh hooked to coal for the next three decades.
TRACE announces winners of 2019 Prize for Investigative Reporting: Stories uncover wartime corruption and bribery in oil sales
The TRACE Foundation, a non-profit organization established by TRACE to support projects that encourage greater commercial transparency, last night announced the winners of the 2019 TRACE Prize for Investigative Reporting at an award ceremony in Vancouver. Honorable mentions were awarded to Aruna Chandrasekhar for her project "Rs 7,410-crore question", an investigation into an Indian power company's close ties to the ruling party in Delhi.
CHENNAI, India — When the water’s gone, you bathe in what drips out of the air-conditioner. You no longer allow yourself the luxury of an evening shower at the end of a steamy summer’s day. You sprint down two flights of stairs with plastic pots as soon as a neighbor tells you the water tanker is coming.
Twelve days before elections dates were announced, the Modi government on February 25 cleared the way for an Adani project in Jharkhand to become the first standalone power project in India to get the status and benefits of a Special Economic Zone. For this, the commerce ministry amended power-related guidelines for Special Economic Zones earlier this year. Geared towards exports, Special Economic Zones get a host of duty-waivers, tax exemptions and faster clearances.
In Chennai, Tamil Nadu, Srinivasan—an inland fisherman and a kabaddi coach—has been caught in a battle for the last five years. Not only does he coach the young boys of his fishing village of Ennore, but he is also doing so while fighting for the city's right to breathe. Journalist Aruna Chandrasekhar wrote in 2018, the city's air is “a potent amalgam of ammonia, coal, sewage and diesel, mingling with the salty sea-breeze.” As she recollects Sreenivasan’s ongoing fight against the city’s big ...
Quoted in this story by Rollo Romig, writing for NYT Mag.
It is the first day of Makar Sankranti, a major festival that takes place each January to celebrate the harvest and the advent of longer days. People light bonfires, discarding the old and welcoming the new. They prepare feasts and create intricate decorations made from brightly colored powders. And they hold cockfights — many, many cockfights.
Awash in gambling and liquor, the fights are big-money affairs. They’re also entirely illegal. The fact that they persist points to a conundrum of modern-day India: When the rule of law takes on tradition and political muscle, it often loses.
This episode of Reporters Without Orders features host Cherry Agarwal, Newslaundry's head of research Ayush Tiwari, special correspondent Prateek Goyal and independent journalist Aruna Chandrasekhar. The panel talks about the Indian airstrike in Jaba, near Balakot, Supreme Court's order to evict more than 1 million tribals and forest-dwellers, the Kisan long march in Maharashtra and more.
On March 6, Odisha police arrested Lingaraj Azad, an indigenous-rights activist, on charges including criminal conspiracy. In a press note released by the Odisha police, Azad is referred to as “one Maoist sympathiser”. In reality, Azad is one of the foremost leaders of a people’s movement to protect western Odisha’s Niyamgiri hills from mining and industrialisation, mobilising indigenous communities in a landmark referendum in 2013, where 12 indigenous village councils rejected UK-based Vedanta’s plans to mine their sacred hills for bauxite.