Apr 13, 2025
Apr 13, 2025
The Hypocrisy Of ‘Legal Murder’ In The Name Of Development
If killing a human is murder, why is killing a tree — another living being — just policy?
What right does one human have to end the life of another? We all agree that taking a life — without cause, without justice — is murder. The law echoes this: murder is punished with life imprisonment or even a death sentence. So, here’s the pressing question — what makes a tree’s life any less sacred?
Trees breathe. They bleed. They nurture. They stand rooted in silence, offering us food, air, shade, shelter, medicine — and most of all, life. Yet, they are felled mercilessly, often by those who claim to govern in our interest. Governments worldwide launch bulldozers in the name of progress — flyovers, malls, highways — while erasing forests, urban canopies, and ancient groves that stood long before us. What gives a government the moral right to commit such mass destruction? And more shockingly — why is this destruction not labeled what it truly is: murder?
Trees are Not “Objects”; They are Living Beings
Scientific evidence leaves no doubt: trees communicate, respond to stimuli, feel distress, and even form complex underground networks through root systems and fungal communication. Suzanne Simard’s pioneering research revealed how mother trees recognize and nourish their saplings, how trees share resources and warn one another of danger. The spiritual and scientific worlds converge here — trees are conscious life forms.
India’s own tradition, rooted in Sanatana Dharma, has revered trees as sacred. The Peepal, Neem, Banyan — each holds deep cultural, medicinal, and environmental significance. In the Rigveda, the earth and its flora are seen as Prajna, living embodiments of consciousness. If our scriptures, our science, and our common sense all affirm that trees are sentient beings, why is killing them not treated as a crime?
Selective Morality: Why is Human Life Valued, But Not All Life?
Imagine a man walking into a park and shooting a human dead. Outrage would follow. Arrests would be made. The act would be condemned. Now picture a government chopping down thousands of trees in the same park, citing “urban development.” Silence.
This contradiction is no less than collective hypocrisy. The Indian Penal Code, under Section 302, declares murder of a human a punishable offence. But the Trees Act or Forest Conservation Act, even in their strictest forms, reduce a tree to a statistic — a resource to be counted, replaced, “compensated.” But can one compensate for a 200-year-old tree by planting ten saplings? Can one undo the death of an ecosystem with bureaucratic paperwork?
The Government’s ‘Double Standard’: When the Murderer Writes The Law
What happens when the very body meant to protect becomes the perpetrator? In state after state, development projects clear large tracts of green cover. Take the recent example of Aarey Forest in Mumbai or Gachibowli’s urban forest in Hyderabad — centuries-old ecosystems destroyed overnight. No environmental emergency is declared. No minister is booked. No tree cutter is prosecuted. Yet if an individual were to take a human life, justice would be swift and severe. Where is justice for a tree?
Global Echoes: Legal Personhood for Trees
Some countries are waking up. In New Zealand, the Whanganui River was granted the legal status of a person. Ecuador’s Constitution recognizes the rights of nature. In India too, the Uttarakhand High Court recognized the Ganga and Yamuna as living entities. If rivers can have rights, why not trees?
Granting trees legal personhood could revolutionize environmental justice. It would no longer be enough to say "we’ll plant two trees for every one cut." The tree would be heard in court. It would be defended. Its death would be accounted for.
This Is Not Just Environmentalism. This Is Ethics.
If development justifies murder, where do we draw the line? If trees can be killed today, can other non-human species be eliminated tomorrow in the name of progress? The truth is chilling: what we allow to be done to trees today may soon be done to us in subtler forms — when economic ambition tramples ethical boundaries.
Final Thoughts: Will History Judge us as the ‘Murderers In Disguise’?
We punish individuals for murder. But we elect governments that sanction it — cloaked in legalities, hidden behind public good, justified by GDP. Will future generations look back at us with shame? Will they ask, “How could they destroy so much, knowing so well?”
What kind of society cries when a man is killed, but shrugs when a thousand trees fall? What legacy do we leave behind — a green Earth or a graveyard of stumps?
The real question is this: If trees had voices, would we still kill them so easily? And since they don’t — who will speak for them?
Perhaps it’s time we realize that our silence makes us complicit. If we do not question the destruction, we endorse it. If we do not defend the voiceless, we betray our own humanity.
As climate change tightens its grip around us — melting glaciers, choking air, depleting water tables — the irony couldn’t be more tragic. The very trees we cut for development are the ones that could have saved us. Every tree felled in the name of progress is a step backwards for our planet’s future.
The Way Forward: Law, Awareness & Collective Responsibility
In The End, It’s About Choosing What Kind of Civilization We Are
Do we want to be remembered as the generation that turned forests into factories and jungles into jungles of concrete? Or do we want to be remembered as those who stood up — who chose ecology over economy, soul over cement, and sanctity over short-term gain?
We may not be able to bring back every tree we have lost. But we can protect every tree still standing. And we must.
Because the future will ask us not what we built, but what we saved. So, before we swing another axe or pass another tender, we must pause and ask: If every tree was your child, would you still allow it to be killed for profit? And if not — why allow it now?
05-Apr-2025
More by : P. Mohan Chandran