A good project in the wrong location

THE sixteen-year rule of the Sheikh Hasina regime left an undeniable mark of authoritarianism across every major sector in Bangladesh, but nowhere is this damage more evident than in the energy and power sector. Built a mere four kilometres from the Sundarbans buffer zone, the Rampal 1,320 MW coal power plant stands as a monument to autocratic governance, an enterprise that prioritised political interest over ecology, environment, and human life. Constructed in total defiance of safety standards and expert consensus, the project compromised Bangladesh's primary natural shield against cyclones and climate disasters while overriding fierce local, national, and international outcry. The project was built as an India-Bangladesh joint venture, despite Indian environmental regulations strictly prohibiting any similar plant within 25 kilometres of a natural forest on its own soil. During its planning and construction, major political parties, including the Bangladesh Nationalist Party, then the main opposition, opposed this project too, arguing that Rampal project was designed solely to serve Indian interests on Bangladeshi territory (BBC Bangla, 2013). Now that the BNP has assumed power following its overwhelming election victory in February 2026, the public will be watching closely whether the new government honours its word and chalks out a clear plan to phase out the Rampal coal-fired power plant for the sake of our primary natural shield or revert to the old political habit of abandoning past promises once in power. While due to bureaucratic inertia immediate shut-down is unlikely, the administration must exercise calculated caution regarding any further development project near the Sundarbans, including the proposed 442 MWp solar power plant adjacent to the Rampal power plant. Because, while there are alternatives to many things, Bangladesh has no alternative to the Sundarbans. Sundarbans and development BANGLADESH is a country where illegal activity often goes unchallenged; once it becomes normalised, no one seems to bother drawing the line between legality and illegality. If this sounds like an exaggeration, one need only take a tour of the Buriganga, Turag, or Dhaleshwari rivers to see the sheer scale of illegal encroachment and the open discharge of toxic industrial effluents from neighbouring factories, tanneries, and manufacturing hubs.There are probably only a few places in the world where private companies can freely develop massive housing schemes on protected wetlands and flood flow zones in a nation's capital, as seen in areas like Bosila, Uttara, Purbachal, Jhilmil, and Baridhara, which has severely exacerbated Dhaka's monsoon waterlogging problem and is now disrupting critical groundwater recharge cycles, and all these taking place under the watchful eyes of government agencies and regulatory bodies. So, when such destruction happens in plain sight in and around the capital, it would not be difficult to imagine how the state-oligarchic nexus operates in the remote reaches of the Sundarbans. Official statistics reveal that as many as 190 industrial units have been developed around the forest, with 24 classified under the most hazardous 'Red Category'. Encouraged and patronised under the previous regime, the world's largest mangrove forest now counts heavy cement factories, LPG plants, shrimp farms and industrial zones as its immediate neighbours, some operating as close as six kilometres from the forest boundary. These figures represent only what has been officially recorded; one can only imagine the true extent to which profit-hungry conglomerates have encroached towards the heart of Sundarbans. The primary defence for these projects has always been 'development' — the glamorous promise that strips resources from the poor to enrich the powerful. Research shows us that Sundarbans is providing more than Tk 29,000 crore annually in services, from fisheries and honey collection to carbon sequestration, storm protection, and tourism. Beyond these macro-level benefits, the forest is a direct lifeline for resource-dependent workers, providing honey gatherers, crab catchers, and wood collectors an average income of Tk 62,400 per year per person (Kanan et al., 2024). So, we must proceed with caution and ask whether the proposed solar plant will simply compound the damage already inflicted on the Sundarbans. Because extensive research by professor Abdullah Harun Chowdhury on industrialisation around the forest, published in 2022, detailed an alarming collapse in local biodiversity. His study documented fish diversity plummeting to just 14–20 species, down from 31–43 in the pre-2010 period. Snake sightings dropped from 26–33 to 11–15, while bird counts fell precipitously from over 300 individuals across 46 species to a mere 27 birds across 5 different species. Furthermore, a 75 per cent reduction in fish eggs and hatchlings over just ten years points to an impending ecosystem collapse driven by rapid, unchecked industrial expansion in and around the Sundarbans. Solar plant and site selection BANGLADESH government signed a deal with India in 2013 to install a coal-fired power plant at Rampal. There was a plan to install two 1320 MW capacity plants in two phases, and therefore, to execute the project, 1834 acres of land were acquired, much of it through the forceful eviction of local communities by local goons, political cadres and law enforcement agencies. The government ultimately did not proceed with the second 1320 MW unit, leaving 918 acres of unutilised land. In 2023, the Hasina regime initiated plans to install a 300 MW solar plant on this remaining land, an effort cut short when the regime was ousted in the 2024 mass uprising. Today, discussions have resurfaced to construct a 442 MWp solar power plant on that same land. The Bangladesh Power Development Board plans to invest Tk 375.36 crore from its own funds, alongside Tk 2,127.04 crore sourced from the Power Sector Development Fund. Crucially, the Planning Commission recently raised serious concerns regarding the environmental and disaster risks associated with the project, rightfully calling for a comprehensive assessment of its potential impact on the surrounding ecosystem. The shift toward solar and renewable energy succeeds only when embedded in a holistic planning framework, one that places human well-being and ecological health at its centre, rather than prioritising corporate profits and other hidden agendas. Mainstream economic models routinely fail to account for ecological costs and natural benefits on their balance sheets, leading to flawed project assessments that mistake spatial exploitation for progress. Over the past decade, the cost of solar technology has dropped by 89 per cent, accelerating utility-scale installations worldwide, and utility-scale solar energy production is now rapidly increasing across the globe and is set to be the world's largest renewable energy source by 2029 (Fleming, 2025). As Bangladesh expands its renewable energy portfolio, we must learn from global precedents, emulating what works well while avoiding documented risk and failure. The proposed utility-scale solar plant near Rampal, featuring vast arrays of concentrated solar panels adjacent to the Sundarbans, gives us ample reason for concern. The environmental scrutiny must extend across all stages: planning, site selection, construction, operation, and eventual decommissioning. There are many species of birds and insects that rely on polarised light for navigation and locating water. Studies show that solar arrays reflect polarised light, creating a 'mega-trap' effect where aquatic insects and birds mistake panel fields for water bodies, leading to fatal collisions and disrupted breeding cycles. Furthermore, research on the Photovoltaic Heat Island (PVHI) effect demonstrates that dense solar farms can raise ambient temperatures by 3 to 4 degrees Celsius, particularly at night due to trapped heat (Barron-Gafford, G. A. et al., 2016). So, a thorough assessment is needed on how this localised microclimate warming will interact with the delicate ecosystem and surrounding waterways of the Sundarbans before embarking on this megascale solar project. In such a complex web of life in Sundarbans, even a minor disruption to interdependent flora and fauna can trigger a systemic ecological rupture. So, the government must think carefully before it proceeds. We must remain vigilant when policymakers cite 'development' to justify new projects near fragile ecosystems. Too often, such rhetoric served as nothing more than a free licence for land grabbers to carve private plots out of protected forests and for industrialists to choke the Sundarbans with untreated pollution. Land inside and adjacent to a forest must never be considered for commercial or industrial ventures, as an ecosystem can only thrive when shielded from human intervention. Rather than rushing forward with the proposed solar plant, the government must first establish a concrete plan to phase out all the intrusive commercial and industrial projects allowed in the Sundarbans under the previous autocratic regime. An independent body should be commissioned to conduct a comprehensive environmental audit to assess the collective impacts so far and chalk out a recovery plan for the damage already inflicted on the Sundarbans. Ultimately, no matter how sustainable a project appears on paper, flawed site selection will always yield the worst outcome.