The Future Of SGNP’s Green Lung: Sustainable Villages Or Commercialised Wilderness?

The long-delayed draft Zonal Master Plan (ZMP) for Sanjay Gandhi National Park’s (SGNP) eco-sensitive zone, released this September, presents itself as a progressive blueprint. After nine years of waiting, Mumbai finally has a plan to regulate activity in this fragile 59km buffer. At the heart of the proposal is an invitation to build “sustainable villages, lodges, wellness centres, homestays, cottages” alongside trekking, boating, and other nature-based activities. The stated aim: empower locals through ecotourism while safeguarding ecology. But as history shows, the line between empowerment and exploitation is perilously thin.

On paper, the intent is sound. SGNP is home not just to leopards, lakes, and 1,300 plant species but also to Adivasi communities who have long been excluded from formal conservation policy. Creating eco-lodges or homestays could offer them dignified livelihoods, monetising traditional knowledge through guiding treks, herbal medicine, or cultural experiences. Models like Kerala’s Periyar Tiger Reserve demonstrate how community-led eco-tourism can boost local incomes while strengthening conservation. In SGNP, such initiatives could reduce reliance on logging, land grabs, or slum expansion that already threaten 184 hectares of this buffer zone. If revenuesharing is structured fairly, locals could become genuine stakeholders in protecting what sustains them.

Yet the devil is in the details, and the omissions. The same draft that promises sustainable villages also mentions “medical rehabilitation and wellness centres” with no caps, safeguards, or clarity. This raises a red flag: what begins as homestays could morph into high-end resorts marketed to Mumbai’s elite. Already, 33% of the eco-sensitive zone is developed, including 146 hectares of industrial activity and 138 hectares of commercial use, choking the very buffer meant to protect the core forest. Activists like Stalin Dayanand of Vanashakti and Debi Goenka have warned that the plan risks diluting environmental protections, blurring jurisdiction, and even enabling projects that contravene the Environmental Protection Act. Without firm boundaries, the ZMP could open the door to commercialisation disguised as conservation.

India has seen this before. Jim Corbett National Park’s unchecked resorts depleted groundwater and disrupted wildlife corridors. SGNP, already strained by slums, industries, and overcrowding at Kanheri Caves and Tulsi Lake, could face the same spiral: more footfall, more pollution, less wilderness. Promises of “effective visitor management” ring hollow without binding caps on numbers, strict bans on plastic and non-biodegradable waste, and robust monitoring systems.

The 30-day consultation period, open until October 10, is critical. Citizens must demand safeguards: mandatory environmental impact assessments for every proposed lodge or centre, enforceable visitor limits, and revenue models that prioritise Adivasi cooperatives. Global precedents exist. Bhutan, for instance, aligns tourism with its Gross National Happiness index, mandating that a significant portion of tourism revenue directly funds conservation and local welfare. SGNP’s ZMP could adopt a similar framework, ensuring that ecotourism strengthens, rather than erodes, ecological resilience. SGNP should stand as a living legacy for generations, not a cautionary tale of what happens when nature is left to the market.

The writer is the founder of The Bombay Blueprint, a public platform chronicling Mumbai’s architecture, heritage, and evolving urban landscape