Green Fallout Of Dharavi’s Redevelopment Plan

In a cramped office tucked inside Manohar Joshi College in the heart of Dharavi, considered to be one of the world’s largest slums, Baburao Mane, former MLA of Dharavi and leader of the Dharavi Bachao Andolan (DBA), sits hunched over a large map of the area, its lines and markings heavy with history, ambition, and uncertainty. His eyes scan the expanse of a place he has represented and fought for over decades, but this time, his expression carries more weariness than hope. “This plan,” he says softly, “may change the face of Dharavi forever, but at what cost?”

For Mane and many others, who call this densely packed and industrious corner of Mumbai home, the Dharavi Redevelopment Project is not just a real estate overhaul; it’s a sweeping change that threatens to erase the unique economic, cultural, and ecological identity that Dharavi has built over generations. Their most pressing concern? The environment.

“We, the DBA, will be meeting soon to discuss our strategy,” says Mane. “There are many flaws in the plan, but the most alarming aspect is how little it has considered the environmental and infrastructural consequences,” says Mane.

The Leather Lifeline

At the centre of these concerns lies one of Dharavi’s most iconic and misunderstood economies: the leather industry. Home to one of the highest concentrations of tanneries in India, Dharavi’s leather goods are exported across the globe. It’s not just a business, it’s a generational lifeline.

“This isn’t just about employment,” says Mane. “These industries form a deeply-rooted economic ecosystem. You can’t just lift them out and expect them to survive elsewhere.”

Generating an estimated Rs 700 crore annually, the leather trade operates through a fine-tuned network of processing units that deal with animal hides like that of sheep, goat, buffalo and cow, alongside thousands of micro-businesses including plastic recycling, textile production, and metal salvaging. These are industries that depend not only on space, but on proximity to labour, logistics, and most critically, specialised environmental infrastructure like waste treatment units and ventilation systems.

What The Numbers Don’t Say

The Dharavi Redevelopment Project, undertaken by the Navbharat Mega Developers Private Limited, a joint venture between the Maharashtra government and the Adani Group, is staggering in scale. Of Dharavi’s estimated 620 acres, 269 are deemed “developable”, with around 116.6 acres set aside for residents’ rehabilitation, and 118.4 acres for commercial and retail use. A modest 99 acres are promised as open space.

However, Dharavi’s population is grossly underestimated in official figures. While the 2011 Census records about 3 lakh residents, more current estimates suggest that between seven and 10 lakh reside here. The plan proposes shifting many residents outside Dharavi to sites like Mahim railway land (47.5 acres), Kurla Mother Dairy land (21.5 acres), Mulund’s salt pan lands (58.1 acres), Aksa in Malad (140 acres), and the infamous Deonar dumping ground (124 acres).

But these “relocation” lands are fraught with environmental hazards and legal grey areas.

Fragile Lands, Dangerous Precedents

Urban infrastructure expert Hussain Indorewala, who has studied the Dharavi Redevelopment Project in detail, calls the relocation sites “ecological time bombs”.

“The salt pan lands are essentially salt marshes that are flood-prone and environmentally critical. Building on them without proper environmental impact assessments will have irreversible consequences,” he warns. “And we know those assessments are not being done.”

Deonar, perhaps the most controversial of the sites, is Mumbai’s oldest and largest garbage dump. According to the Central Pollution Control Board (CPCB) guidelines, such landfills require bioremediation and must be left untouched for 15 years before any construction can occur. The Dharavi Redevelopment Project, however, operates on a seven year timeline, raising serious questions about the legality and public safety concerns.

In fact, the CPCB’s 2021 regulations explicitly prohibit the construction of housing, schools, or hospitals on or near landfill sites—even closed ones. A 100-metre buffer zone is mandatory. Deonar is not only still active, but is also among the most hazardous. A 2024 CPCB report, submitted to the National Green Tribunal (NGT), revealed that the landfill emits over 6,200 kg of methane per hour, ranking it among India’s top 22 methane hotspots.

“People are being asked to move from a functioning community into a toxic environment. That is not rehabilitation, it is neglect,” adds Indorewala.

A Risky Trade-Off

Raju Korde, who is with the DBA, calls the plan “environmental injustice in the making”. “They want to set up industries on active dumping grounds. It’s not only dangerous, but it is also illegal. And moving leather and other industries from Dharavi to Deonar will not just disrupt businesses, it could destroy them,” says Korde

While the Maharashtra government in 2023 had announced plans for a Leather Industry Park near the Deonar abattoir, with over 100 showrooms and facilities, local people remain deeply sceptical. The Leather Industries Development Corporation of Maharashtra (LIDCOM) has appointed a consultant, but no timelines or environmental clearances have been made public.

“Setting up a new tannery or cottage industry can cost lakhs of rupees. Most small business owners in Dharavi can’t afford that,” says Korde. “You’ll push people into debt, or worse, out of business.”

Similarly, Mane also says that the people of Dharavi will not move anywhere. “For the sake of profit, some industrialists are doing anything they want to. They are playing with people’s lives,” Mane says.

The Bigger Picture

As the bulldozers prepare to move in, Dharavi faces not just demolition, but displacement from a deeply sustainable, albeit informal, way of life. For decades, its residents have practised low-impact living: reusing, recycling and adapting. Their industries are rooted in necessity and thrift that ironically are the very principles that urban sustainability models are now trying to emulate.

“We’re destroying a naturally circular economy to build glass towers that will likely consume more, waste more, and serve fewer,” says Indorewala. “It’s not redevelopment, but it’s erasure.”

As the DBA prepares for the next phase of its resistance, Mane wonders that the question looms larger than ever: in the race to modernise Dharavi, are we sacrificing the very values that made it a model of resilience in the first place?