The Supreme Court on Tuesday set aside the Himachal Pradesh High Court’s order directing removal of apple orchards illegally planted on forest land, halting what could have been the restoration of thousands of acres of encroached forests. While farmer groups are celebrating, a critical question looms: has the apex court just handed a victory to encroachers at the cost of Himachal’s already depleting forest cover?
The uncomfortable truth: These are illegal encroachments
These aren’t ancestral farmlands or legally acquired orchards. These are apple trees deliberately planted on forest land—land that belongs to the forest department, land that was meant to sustain biodiversity, native flora and fauna, and protect Himachal’s fragile Himalayan ecosystem.
The High Court’s July 2 order wasn’t arbitrary vindictiveness against farmers. It was an attempt to reclaim illegally occupied forest land and restore it to its natural state by replacing commercial apple orchards with native forest species.
The fact that over 50,000 trees were identified for removal across the state indicates the massive scale of forest land encroachment that has been normalized under the guise of “livelihood.”
When did illegal occupation become a fundamental right?
The Supreme Court bench of Chief Justice Surya Kant and Justice Joymalya Bagchi stated that the issue falls in the “policy domain” and affects “marginalized sections and landless people.” But here’s the question that needs asking: when did being landless justify grabbing forest land?
Himachal Pradesh has strict laws against forest land encroachment for good reason. The state has only 26.5% geographical area under forest cover—far below the recommended 33% for hill states. Every acre converted to commercial orchards is an acre lost from already shrinking forests.
These weren’t people planting trees on barren wastelands. They cut down native forests—deodar, pine, oak—species that took decades to grow, that sustained entire ecosystems, that prevented soil erosion naturally—and replaced them with commercial apple orchards for profit.
The ‘poor farmer’ narrative doesn’t hold
While the judgment and petitioners speak of “marginalized sections” and “landless people,” the reality of apple cultivation in Himachal tells a different story.
Apple farming is a capital-intensive venture requiring:
- Significant initial investment in saplings and infrastructure
- Years of cultivation before trees bear fruit
- Resources for pesticides, fertilizers, and maintenance
- Access to markets and cold storage facilities
The truly poor and landless don’t have the resources to establish apple orchards. Many of these “encroachers” are well-off farmers who saw an opportunity to expand their commercial cultivation onto free forest land and took it—knowing it was illegal.
The petition filed by former Deputy Mayor Tikender Singh Panwar conveniently painted all encroachers as disaster-affected families.
The monsoon landslide argument is cherry-picking
The petitioners argued that cutting apple trees during monsoon would increase landslide risk. But would those hillsides have been vulnerable to monsoon landslides if natural forests had never been cut down to plant apple trees in the first place?
Himachal has witnessed devastating monsoons in 2023 and 2025. But the worst-affected areas aren’t necessarily where apple trees were recently cut—they’re areas where decades of deforestation, construction, and land use change have destabilized entire hillsides.
Apple orchards have been expanding aggressively into forest areas for 30-40 years. During this time:
- Natural forest cover has decreased
- Water retention capacity has declined
- Soil erosion has increased
- Flash floods have become more common
- Wildlife habitats have shrunk
Now that authorities attempt to reverse some of this damage, suddenly we’re worried about monsoon risks? Where was this concern when forests were being cleared for orchards?
The 3,800 trees already cut: Environmental restoration, not destruction
3,800 apple trees had already been cut but on the other perspective: 3,800 instances where forest land was being restored. Those weren’t just trees being destroyed—they were illegally planted commercial crops being removed from public forest land.
Who speaks for the forest?
In this entire controversy, one voice has been conspicuously absent: the forest itself.
The Supreme Court was moved by arguments about farmers’ livelihoods, constitutional rights, and welfare state obligations. Farmer unions organized protests and agitations. Political parties took sides. Major media coverage focused on “affected families.”
But who represented the forest land that was grabbed? Who spoke for the native species that were destroyed? Who calculated the loss of biodiversity, the disruption of wildlife corridors, the degradation of watersheds?
Environmental activist groups did file interventions, but they were drowned out by the “livelihood vs. law” narrative. The result: the forest lost, the encroachers won. This judgment sets a dangerous precedent for all of India’s hill states facing similar encroachment issues. If Himachal can’t reclaim forest land, then what stops encroachment everywhere?
The Godavarman judgment’s spirit betrayed
India’s strongest forest protection came from the landmark T.N. Godavarman Thirumulpad case, where the Supreme Court declared that forest land is a national asset that cannot be diverted without the strictest scrutiny.
That judgment recognized that forests are not just tree-covered land but complex ecosystems essential for climate stability, water security, and biodiversity.
Today’s judgment, while technically dealing with a different issue, undermines that spirit. It suggests that once forest land is sufficiently degraded and commercially exploited, restoration becomes too “drastic” to implement.
What about the Forest Rights Act?
Advocates argue that many of these farmers could have legitimate claims under the Forest Rights Act, 2006, which recognizes historical forest-dwelling communities’ rights.
But there’s a critical distinction: the FRA recognizes traditional forest dwellers whose livelihoods have been interwoven with forests for generations—those who use forest resources sustainably, not those who clear forests for commercial monoculture.
Apple cultivation in Himachal exploded in the 1980s-90s with the commercialization of horticulture. Many of these orchards are barely 20-30 years old—planted after forest laws were already in place, with full knowledge of their illegality.
This isn’t traditional forest dwelling. This is commercial encroachment.
