MP’s Sand Mafia is Killing Rivers—and No One’s Stopping it

MP's rivers are dying under the assault of rampant, mechanised, and illegal sand mining.

This wasn’t just a clash of words; it was an eruption of the Madhya Pradesh's deeper contradictions.

(Photo: Altered  by Kamran Akhter/The Quint)

The recent spectacle in Bhind district, where a three-time BJP legislator and the district collector openly abused and accused each other of being “chor” (thief) in front of stunned onlookers, has once again dragged Madhya Pradesh into the national spotlight.

What should have been an opportunity to confront the entrenched menace of illegal sand mining quickly descended into a theatre of personal egos, political compulsions, and administrative defiance.

Though the incident took place in the last week of August, it is still reverberating in the corridors of power in the state capital of Bhopal. The exchange was anything but dignified. When Collector Sanjeev Shrivastava accused the MLA, Narendra Singh Kushwah, of complicity in sand theft, actually pointing an accusing finger towards him, the legislators did not retreat. Instead, he clenched his fist and thundered, “Tu sabse bada chor.” The collector retorted, shouting that he would never allow the loot of river sand.

This wasn’t just a clash of words; it was an eruption of the state's deeper contradictions—where both politics and administration are deeply entangled in the business of plunder.

The aftermath followed a familiar script of symbolic solidarity and competitive theatrics. The Madhya Pradesh IAS Association promptly came to the defence of their colleague, meeting the Chief Minister Mohan Yadav and expressing concern over the episode. The state BJP president, Hemant Khandelwal, wary of embarrassment, sought an explanation from his party MLA.

Meanwhile, the collector was felicitated by the Rajpoot Samaj with a ceremonial sword, which he brandished as though preparing for battle. Not to be outdone, the MLA was greeted by euphoric supporters at his residence, cheered as if he had defended the honour of the people. The chain of events continued. Both the collector and the MLA have lodged police complaints in Bhind against each other.

Lost amid the drama was the actual issue: Madhya Pradesh’s rivers are dying under the assault of rampant, mechanised, and illegal sand mining.

While public attention has been diverted to the collector’s symbolic sword and the MLA’s defiance, the Narmada, Sindh, Chambal, Son, and dozens of smaller rivers continue to be gouged daily by trucks, machines, and mafias operating with impunity.

The Forgotten Rivers

Illegal sand mining is not merely an economic crime; it is an ecological disaster. River sand plays a vital role in maintaining the natural flow, groundwater recharge, and ecological balance of rivers. Unchecked extraction turns flowing rivers into dry beds, destabilises banks, and destroys aquatic life.

Take the National Chambal Ghariyal and Son Ghariyal Sanctuaries, meant to protect one of the last habitats of the critically endangered gharial. The former is spread over Madhya Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh and Rajasthan while the latter is situated in Sidhi district. Instead of a safe refuge, the sanctuary has become a hotspot of illegal sand mining. Trucks and heavy machinery enter the riverbed brazenly, disturbing the fragileness of gharials, while forest officials often look the other way.

Conservationists have repeatedly raised alarm, but the mafia-politician-bureaucrat nexus ensures the loot continues.

Chambal Ghariyal Sanctuary—another critical zone for river biodiversity spread—has witnessed open sand theft in broad daylight in all the three districts Bhind, Morena and Sheopur of Madhya Pradesh where Chambal flows.

Here too, mafias backed by local strongmen treat the riverbed as private property. Reports suggest that entire stretches of the Chambal have been scarred, affecting not just gharials but also river dolphins, turtles, and migratory birds. Even the sacred Narmada, lifeline of Madhya Pradesh, has not been spared. Despite repeated proclamations of political events like “Narmada Seva Yatras” and government campaigns, sand mafias dominate large portions of its banks.

Barges, JCBs, and dumpers operate with astonishing confidence. Interestingly, Madhya Pradesh in 2017 accorded a status of “living entity” to Narmada. During a one day special session of the state assembly in May 2017, the resolution introduced by the then environment minister stated that river Narmada is the lifeline of Madhya Pradesh and the government is compelled to protect the legal rights of the river as a living entity. 

The Sindh River too has been mercilessly ravaged.

In Bhind and Datia districts, where the recent collector-MLA clash occurred, local villagers allege that mafias backed by political figures dig up sand throughout the night, transporting it to neighbouring Uttar Pradesh. The river, once a source of sustenance, has been reduced to a cash cow for the powerful. The same story is repeated in Ken and Betwa rivers.

A Systemic Loot

Illegal sand mining in Madhya Pradesh is not a new phenomenon. Successive governments—regardless of party—have promised action but delivered little. The scale of the problem is staggering: sand worth hundreds of crores is stolen each year.

The beneficiaries are not just faceless mafias but a carefully co-ordinated network involving politicians, contractors, local officials, and sometimes even sections of the police and revenue departments, a senior government official revealed. When an MLA and a collector publicly accuse each other of being thieves, inadvertently reveals the uncomfortable truth: both political and administrative establishments have historically had their hands in the till.

What unfolded in Bhind was not a moral battle between good and evil but rather public fallout in an arrangement where everyone knows too much about each other.

When The Quint called the collector for his comments he refused to talk saying he had lodged a police complaint. The MLA was vocal and repeated his allegations. He also said that he had approached the collector to highlight the issue of fertiliser shortage in the district but he started calling me “chor”.

Drama as Distraction

The collector’s sword-wielding performance, while cheered by the members of Rajpoot community, reflects another dangerous trend—the personalisation of governance battles into caste or identity-based mobilisations. Felicitations by caste groups, supporters rallying behind political leaders, and symbolic displays of power shift focus away from systemic accountability. Instead of asking how and why sand mafias continue to flourish, the debate becomes about whether a collector or an MLA was more “insulted.”

In truth, the rivers need protection, not drama. The real thieves are the mafias and their protectors in high offices who bleed the rivers for personal enrichment. Yet, public discourse now risks being consumed by theatrics rather than environmental urgency.

What is urgently needed is a comprehensive, technology-driven crackdown on illegal sand mining. Most importantly, political will is essential—without it, any administrative effort will collapse.

The Bhind clash may have provided television crews with sensational footage, but it has left citizens with an uncomfortable question: if legislators and collectors are busy calling each other thieves, who is left to safeguard the public interest? While egos and identities take centre stage, the rivers of Madhya Pradesh continue to be plundered silently. In the end, the tragedy of the collector-MLA confrontation is not that two powerful men called each other “chor”.

The real tragedy is that their shouting drowned out the silent cries of the Narmada, Chambal, Son, and Sindh—rivers that sustain millions but are now being looted to death. Until Madhya Pradesh wakes up to this environmental emergency, its politics will remain a drama of shadows—where thieves fight over the spoils, and the rivers die unheard.

(The author is a senior journalist based in Madhya Pradesh. This is an opinion article and the views expressed above are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)