To many people, deserts they are often seen as barren, lifeless places – symbols of failure and decline. That perception has led to countless efforts to fix them through tree plantations, irrigation projects and sweeping development plans.
But the urge to green the desert says more about our assumptions and false understanding than about drylands themselves.
India’s deserts tell a remarkable story. These are landscapes of resilience and richness, shaped by centuries of ecological adaptation and cultural knowledge. From the Thar to the Deccan, they include grasslands, scrublands, and savanna ecosystems that support vibrant biodiversity, pastoralist ways of life, and a delicate balance with scarce water and tough soils.
On World Desertification and Drought Day on June 17, it’s worth attempting to see these landscapes with new eyes. Not as empty or degraded spaces in need of rescue, but as living and meaningful ecosystems full of life. They should be valued as they are.
1. The mirage of emptiness

An Oran land of Jaisalmer, often mistaken for barren, harbours an intricate root network of ephemeral grasses that act as hidden carbon vaults. Scattered across this landscape are hardy shrubs like Euphorbia caducifolia – a drought-resistant species that not only provides food for desert nomads but also offers refuge to elusive wildlife such as the desert cat.
Deserts are not empty. They are full of life adapted to thrive without abundance. They are ancient ecosystems that have evolved over millions of years, a complex interplay of climate change, geology, and ecology.

In the dune habitats of Bikaner, Calligonum polygonoides stands as a key native sand-binder, crucial for stabilising the shifting sands of the Thar. Its delicate flowers are also cherished as a seasonal delicacy. Yet, this remarkable desert shrub is now declining faster than ever.
The sand dunes of the Thar desert near Bikaner are important lifelines for the local communities, who depend on these grasslands as grazing grounds. Realising the importance of open ecosystems, many of them were protected as sacred, locally known as Oran.

Many tiger reserves in India are not true forests, but rather are savannas, similar to their African counterparts. This is well illustrated from this image from Melghat Tiger Reserve, where a grassy meadow is essential for herbivores such as cheetal.
2. Subtle beauty of drylands

The glossy-bellied racer, a species of semi-arid habitats, is seen here in the dry grasslands of Nagaur as it searches for elevated shelters just before the monsoon.
From riotous blooms to elusive wildlife, drylands are landscapes of quiet resilience. For most of the year, they may look brown and lifeless, but a brief spell of rain can transform these supposedly barren landscapes into verdant productivity.

Western Rajasthan has the largest remaining tracts of arid grasslands in the country. If restored and managed, they can continue to serve as vital grazing grounds for millions of livestock, whilst still supporting native biodiversity.
3. Forgotten green: India’s open natural ecosystems
India’s grasslands and savannas, often mistaken for degraded forests, are full of life, and home to unique biodiversity.
While the savannas of Africa are recognised, Indian savannas are sadly neglected and labelled as wastelands, to be “developed” for more productive uses. This is at odds with our wildlife conservation policies that recognise grasslands and savannas as habitats for critically endangered species such as the great Indian bustard

The Western Ghats create a long rain-shadow to the east. This semi-arid landscape of the Deccan plateau once supported vast savannas. Today, only small fragments, such as the grasslands of Pune district, remain. Yet, they are home to endangered Indian wolves, chinkara and several other endemic fauna and flora

The Indian fox is a quintessential grassland species. The Banni grasslands of Kutch are unique in supporting two species of foxes, the other being the desert fox, a subspecies of the red fox. Both these species require open grassy landscapes for their survival.
5. Communities of India’s open ecosystems
Pastoralist communities have coexisted with these landscapes for centuries, stewarding biodiversity and land health. Across the world, in areas where agriculture is tenuous, animal rearing has always been the most stable form of earning a livelihood.
In India, millions of people depend on these drylands for pasture, contributing significantly to India’s informal meat, milk and dung economy.

The Dhangars are a traditionally nomadic pastoralist community found primarily in Maharashtra, and also parts of Karnataka, Goa, and Madhya Pradesh. Most Dhangars today herd sheep and goats, and some keep cattle or buffaloes.
Across dusty paths and grassy commons, the Dhangars carry more than just their flocks. They carry generations of knowledge, care and connection with India’s open natural ecosystems.

The nomadic pastoralist communities of India raise hardy local breeds that are well adapted to travelling long distances and utilising the short growing season that the monsoon brings. These free-ranging, organically raised livestock are the backbone of the rural economy.
Unfortunately, their contribution to our agrarian system and the livelihood security they bring to millions is severely undervalued.
6. Misguided solutions
Early monsoon showers bring the land back to life. What was once barren is now dotted with fresh sprouts and clumps of Cressa cretica, a salt-tolerant species valued as seasonal fodder, especially for milk-yielding buffaloes in the Banni grasslands.
Afforestation and industrial “greening” projects often destroy what they seek to improve. Not all that is green is good, and not all that is brown is bad. This mantra needs to be drilled into anyone who wants to help restore landscapes.
Planting saplings at unnaturally high densities in such ecosystems could drastically alter the balance between what the climatic conditions allow and what the ground can support. Planting trees in grasslands results in degraded grasslands and stunted trees that will never meet the objectives of restoration.

These so-called degraded lands support some of the highest livestock densities in the world, sustained by uniquely adapted breeds like the kharai camel, known for its remarkable ability to swim across oceanic marshes.
This hardy species survives on halophytic shrubs with minimal water and stands out among camel breeds for its resilience to both arid and highly saline environments.
7. Resilience by design

Restoration does not need exotic species or engineering, it needs recognition for what already works. The best way of restoring a landscape is to leave it alone.
To relieve the pressures that first resulted in degradation and to help accelerate the process, use low disturbance techniques to bring in species that might otherwise take too long to re-establish.

Trees require large amounts of water to grow optimally. Despite several decades of tree planting, most such schemes have failed. Planting the wrong species, in the wrong place at the wrong densities will only result in wasted resources, and unfortunately the degradation of the open ecosystem.
This image shows a 40-year-old plantation of neem and other species that are ill suited to the dry climate of the Deccan plateau.
8. Policy shift: Recognition begins with naming

The shifting dunes of the Thar showcase early stages of ecological succession, marked by the presence of sand-binding shrubs like Leptadenia pyrotechnica and Calligonum polygonoides.
The iconic shifting sand dunes of desert ecosystems are an important geomorphological heritage. No tourist brochure of the Thar desert is complete without a photo of camels on the dunes. Yet, several schemes aim to green the dunes by planting trees and other inappropriate vegetation.
Policy must catch up. Recognising open ecosystems as valuable is the first step toward protecting them. Any categorisation that automatically relegates 10%-15% of a country’s landmass as a wasteland requires re-examination.
For decades, we have ignored our own deep cultural history, lived experiences and tremendous economic benefits. It is time to recognise the grassy treasures that lie beneath our feet.
9. A new aesthetic
We must learn to appreciate brown landscapes as vital. Greenness isn’t the only sign of life.

The Banni grasslands of Kutch occur in fairly saline soils. As an adaptation to this high level of salinity, several plants are halophytes (salt loving), and can withstand periodic flooding.
A mosaic of salt-tolerant bushes like Suaeda nudiflora, interspersed with plains dominated by the sedge Cyperus rotundus, forms a typical habitat of the Banni grasslands. The succulent leaves of Suaeda are also consumed by various wildlife species during stress periods, owing to their high water content.
The vast savannas of the Deccan plateau closely resemble those of the African continent. The similarity stops there unfortunately. India’s savannas are considered as degraded wastelands and are prioritised for conversion to other uses.

June 17 is World Desertification and Drought Day.
Anuja Malhotra is the Policy Manager at the Centre for Policy Design, ATREE, working at the intersection of science, policy, and practice on environment and conservation.
Abi T Vanak is the Director of the Centre for Policy Design at ATREE. He is a leading expert on Open Natural Ecosystems and advocates for their conservation, restoration and sustainable use.
Chetan Misher is a restoration ecologist at Wildlife Conservation Trust, working on ecosystem restoration in Rajasthan, with a passion for India’s grasslands and deserts.