Deep in the Andaman Sea, bulldozers have begun clearing old-growth rainforest on Great Nicobar Island, clearing ground for one of India’s most ambitious and controversial infrastructure initiatives ever conceived: a $9 billion megaport, new airport networks, dual-use military installations, and an entirely new planned city. Positioned just off the Strait of Malacca, the global shipping lane that carries roughly 30% of annual world trade, the project is the cornerstone of New Delhi’s efforts to counter China’s growing influence across the Indian Ocean, while transforming the remote archipelago into a major Indo-Pacific connectivity hub. From a geostrategic perspective, the location is unmatched: Great Nicobar sits less than 175 kilometers from Indonesia, far closer to Southeast Asia than any site on India’s mainland. Prime Minister Narendra Modi framed the initiative in September as a project of national, defense, and strategic importance that will reposition the region as a linchpin for maritime and air connectivity across the Indian Ocean.
The full scope of the plan extends far beyond the $4 billion first phase, which will deliver a deep-water container port at Galathea Bay and an airport at Campbell Bay, scheduled for completion within three years. Once fully operational, the port will handle more than 20 million twenty-foot equivalent units of cargo, earning it a place among India’s three largest container terminals. Devendra Kumar Joshi, the Andaman and Nicobar Islands governor and a former Indian navy admiral, projects the facility could eventually compete with Singapore and Malaysia’s Port Klang to become the leading container handling hub for the entire Indo-Pacific. Across the 836-island archipelago, plans call for expanding existing naval and air infrastructure, including two new airports and upgraded 3-kilometer runways capable of handling heavy military cargo aircraft. All new and updated runways will be dual-use, serving both civilian and military operations, with one upgraded runway on Car Nicobar already inaugurated by India’s Chief of Defence Staff in January. Most details of the military component of the project remain classified, but security analysts frame Great Nicobar’s location as a game-changer for Indian defense posture. New Delhi-based security expert Nitin Gokhale describes the island as “India’s unsinkable aircraft carrier,” noting that its position creates a permanent strategic advantage by allowing India to monitor activity across the region, a capability that redefines India’s security paradigm in the Indo-Pacific. The project is explicitly aligned with India’s Act East policy, designed to counter China’s so-called “string of pearls” strategy of developing port and military infrastructure across the Indian Ocean to secure its own economic and strategic interests.
Indian officials have repeatedly pushed back against criticism, emphasizing that the project meets all national environmental regulations and includes dedicated protected zones to safeguard Indigenous communities, unique wildlife, and fragile ecosystems. India’s top environmental court ruled in 2023 that it found no justifiable reason to block the project, specifically noting its strategic importance in countering Chinese influence. Environment Minister Bhupender Yadav has insisted the initiative “poses no threat to the island’s tribal groups, does not come in the way of any species, and does not jeopardise the eco-sensitivity of the region.”
But the massive development has sparked fierce pushback from environmentalists, Indigenous leaders, and local residents, who warn that the costs far outweigh any potential economic or strategic benefits. Roughly 95% of Great Nicobar’s 910 square kilometers is undisturbed, biologically under-explored old-growth forest home to dozens of endemic species found nowhere else on Earth. The project will require clearing nearly 20% of the island’s total land area. Most alarming to rights groups is the threat to Great Nicobar’s Indigenous populations, which total around 1,200 people including the hunter-gatherer Shompen people—one of the most isolated communities on the planet, who almost entirely avoid contact with outsiders—and the Nicobarese. London-based rights organization Survival International has warned that the project threatens “genocide in the name of ‘mega-development’” for these communities.
Critics also dismiss the government’s environmental mitigation plan, which proposes replanting deforestation offsets thousands of kilometers away in the northern Indian state of Haryana. Manish Chandi, a researcher who has worked extensively with Indigenous communities on Great Nicobar, called the offset plan “nonsense”, noting “We are removing crocodiles from their natural habitat, and saying we are going to conserve them.” Chandi also questioned the economic rationale of the massive investment, saying there is no clear roadmap for recovering the $9 billion price tag. Beyond the port and military infrastructure, the plan includes a 161-square-kilometer new planned city, a combined gas and solar power plant, and large-scale tourism development. Current projections show the island’s population jumping from just 9,000 today to more than 335,000 by 2055, with annual tourist arrivals reaching 1 million by the same date.
Indigenous leaders warn that the project will erase millennia-old traditional cultures that are deeply tied to the island’s land. “If we lose control of these lands, our culture too will be lost,” said Barnabas Manju, the most senior Nicobarese leader. Even mainland Indian settlers who have lived on the island for generations oppose the plan, many facing displacement without fair compensation. Sharda Devi, a 55-year-old daughter of one of the first mainland settlers who moved to Great Nicobar in 1969, told AFP the government will seize 11 acres of land allocated to her father without offering replacement land or adequate payment. Her neighbor Kusum Mishra, 71, who arrived on the island 50 years ago, called the offered compensation “petty”, saying “they are uprooting us and destroying our lives.”
Hundreds of kilometers north on Little Andaman, the ripple effects of the broader development push are already being felt, as the government prepares for the “next developmental thrust” after Great Nicobar, per Governor Joshi. The Onge community, one of the archipelago’s most vulnerable Indigenous groups, numbers just 143 surviving members today. Many still maintain their traditional way of life, fishing in intact coral reefs and hunting in protected forest lands, but a growing number of young community members are engaging with the outside world, drawn by new opportunities. Last year, local police began recruiting more than 500 young Indigenous people from across the archipelago to serve as police homeguards, framing the initiative as a way to create local opportunity while leveraging their intimate knowledge of the islands. Raja, one of the first Onge recruits, said his steady salary has inspired other young community members to join, drawn by the chance to travel beyond their isolated villages and see the wider world. His friend Jhaj, another Onge recruit, recently made a major methamphetamine seizure of seven kilograms, catching drug traffickers who operate along the Andaman Sea route from Myanmar. Ashish Biswas, who works for the government-backed Indigenous advocacy group Andaman Adim Janjati Vikas Samiti, said the development brings both risks and opportunities. “These developments point to better things on the horizon,” he said, pointing to growing interest in education among young Indigenous people following the example of Jhaj and Raja.