Land: Our Mother, Our Future : Protecting and Enhancing the Soul of Our Civilization

T oday, as I stand before you, the subject we are discussing is one that touches the very roots of our existence — the protection of land, the preservation of its quality, and how these can pave the way for our life and development. Land is not just soil beneath our feet; it is the foundation upon which our culture, civilization, and survival rest.

When I think about this subject, I realise that our country holds a unique place in the world. India is the only surviving ancient civilization in the modern world. We are the world’s only living pre-historic nation. And this ancient identity rests on two pillars — Rishi and Krishi.

A Rishi is one who gives energy to life, elevating the spirit to higher consciousness. Krishi is the practice that sustains life physically, providing the nourishment we need. Together, they form the spiritual and material backbone of our existence.

If we look back just 50–55 years, there was a time when the so-called path to development was defined by chemical fertilizers, mechanised farming, and industrial methods of cultivation. We were told that adopting these would ensure prosperity and progress.

But today, in the lifetime of a single generation, we find ourselves returning to what was once dismissed as old-fashioned — the use of cow dung, organic compost, and natural farming methods. The very practices that were ridiculed in the name of modernisation are now being recognised worldwide for their value.

To understand this shift, let us consider global awareness. Until 1991, the word “biodiversity” did not appear in any official UN charter. The concern for biodiversity and environmental health only began to emerge in the late 1980s and early 1990s. The 1992 Earth Summit in Rio de Janeiro was a milestone, but even there, the thinking in the West was fundamentally different from ours.

The Western philosophical approach, shaped by thinkers like Aristotle, Francis Bacon, and René Descartes, saw nature as something to be mastered and subdued. Aristotle wrote that humans should become “masters and possessors of nature.” Bacon and Descartes argued that all elements of nature exist for the service of mankind, and that we must have the power to subdue nature.

This separation of humans from nature, seeing it either as a servant or an opponent, led directly to environmental imbalance.

Our tradition is entirely different. The Rigveda declares: Mātā bhūmīḥ putro’ham pṛthivyāḥ — “The Earth is my mother, and I am her son.” When you see land as your mother, you cannot exploit it; you can only nurture it. In the Indian tradition, we have always believed in poshan (nourishment) of nature, not shoshan (exploitation).

Today, in the most expensive markets and malls, people proudly sell “organic” food. The Prime Minister’s initiative to promote millets was in essence a revival of traditional, nature-friendly crops. There is even a demand now for a barcode system that certifies a product as coming from “virgin land” — soil that has never been exposed to chemical fertilisers.

India still has many such regions — parts of Odisha, Chhattisgarh, Jharkhand, the Northeast, Uttarakhand, and Himachal Pradesh — where land remains untouched by chemicals. These are treasures we must protect.

It is true that chemical farming initially increased yields, but it also brought a parallel growth in diseases. Modern science is only now beginning to understand the health impacts of decades of pesticide and chemical use. For two or three generations, we have been consuming produce grown in artificial conditions, and the results are showing up in public health statistics.

Interestingly, historical records show that India’s traditional agriculture was far more productive than is often believed. In the late 18th century, a British officer named Thomas Barnard conducted a survey in the Madras Presidency. He found that per-hectare yields here were about seven to seven-and-a-half times higher than in Europe at the time.

Even compared to today’s chemical-based mechanised farming, those yields were almost double. The British officials were curious to know how this was possible.

Barnard identified three main reasons:

1. Seed–Soil Knowledge: Farmers knew exactly which seed variety suited which type of soil.

2. Mixed Cropping: They did not practise mono-cropping. Instead, they grew three or four crops in the same field, understanding which combinations were most beneficial.

3. Lunar Planting Cycles: Farmers timed sowing based on lunar phases and specific constellations for each crop, a practice rooted in observation and tradition.

These methods, blending observation, experimentation, and respect for natural cycles, produced both abundance and sustainability.

I firmly believe that if we combine our traditional Rishi–Krishi wisdom with modern scientific research, we can lead the world in providing healthy food, pure water, and clean air in abundance. This requires not blind imitation of other models, but the courage to innovate from our own heritage.

We have made remarkable technological progress — from space exploration to digital revolution. Yet, have we truly understood the soul of the Earth? Can we measure Her silent patience, Her quiet resilience?

I am reminded of poetic lines that say:

O you who measure the skies, tell me honestly —

Have you measured the silent depths of the Earth?

The thirst of the Earth cannot be quenched by greenery alone. Beneath the beauty of space lies a reality — the Earth, our mother, sometimes silently sobs under our feet.

As the Prime Minister has often said, we must build a Viksit Bharat — a developed India — free from the mindset of slavery, proud of our heritage. The India that emerges must not be a copy of another nation but a symbol, an inspiration for the world.

To achieve this, our land must remain healthy, fertile, and full of life. A developed India cannot stand on degraded soil, polluted water, and poisoned air. The path to development is not in endless exploitation but in balance — in treating land as mother, in giving back as much as we take.

I see three urgent steps before us:

1. Restoring Soil Health: Launch a nationwide mission to regenerate soil fertility using organic matter, microbial cultures, and traditional crop rotations.

2. Protecting Virgin Lands: Identify and legally safeguard all regions where soil has never been exposed to chemicals, using them as models for future farming.

3. Blending Knowledge Systems: Create research institutions where agricultural scientists work alongside traditional farmers, astrologers familiar with planting cycles, and environmentalists to create a uniquely Indian agricultural model.

Our identity as a nation is deeply rooted in our relationship with the land. If we can preserve the sanctity of this relationship, we will not only feed ourselves but also offer the world a model of sustainable, respectful development.

We stand at a turning point. The world is beginning to see the wisdom in what our ancestors knew all along — that the Earth is not a resource to be used up, but a mother to be cared for. Let us rise to this occasion, with humility in our hearts and pride in our heritage, and build a future where India shines as the symbol of balance between progress and preservation.

When the history of this century is written, let it be said that we, the sons and daughters of this land, heard the Earth’s silent call — and answered it.