A few days ago, the picture of a dismembered tree on my Facebook feed stopped me mid-scroll. It had a link to a news article attached: “200-year-old banyan tree felled in Madaripur over “bid’ah” claims.”
I could not stop looking at the pictures; my heart ached at the sight of its disconnected and dishevelled branches. Ancient trees have always evoked deep emotions in me. Beyond their vital roles in sustaining ecosystems, they carry the stories and memories of people from centuries past.
Whenever I stand under such a tree, I get goosebumps imagining those who once stood in the same spot before I even existed. Naturally, this news upset me, but not just for sentimental reasons.
As an environmentalist, I was deeply concerned by how easily a group of people could wake up one day and decide to cut off massive branches of such a tree. This tree is located in Ward 1 of Shirkhara Union, so I reached out to the respective ward member. That’s how I discovered that this banyan tree stood beside the Arial Kha River, which has been experiencing rapid soil erosion.
Interestingly, the segment of the river near the tree showed no signs of erosion -- a fact the local villagers saw as miraculous. They believed the tree possessed special powers that protected them from harm. As a result, they would occasionally light candles around it and offer special prayers, hoping their wishes would be granted.
The local imams of Shirkhara noticed this and claimed it as a form of “bid’ah” or religious invention. This was seen as an act of blasphemy, so the imams decided to cut off most of the tree, keeping only the roots.
They justified their act by claiming that the tree was encouraging practices against Islam. However, I couldn’t help but think about how they tried to prevent bid’ah with an act that could itself be considered blasphemous.
Growing up, I was always taught never to tear even a single leaf from a tree, because it would hurt the tree, and Allah would be very upset. I have always been taught to care for the environment because it is Allah’s creation.
I have carried these teachings into adulthood, and still believe that caring for the environment is farz. Assuming what the villagers were doing was, in fact, wrong, can cutting down the tree be considered an actual solution?
One might argue that many trees are felled for timber. Also, this particular banyan tree is supposedly under the private land of a resident of Shirkhara. However, trees that are felled for timber are very different from ancient trees like this Banyan tree.
Many trees are planted in private lands, with the intention of felling them for timber later. They are also often not very beneficial for the ecosystem of the area, and might even be harmful to local plant species.
But ancient trees nurture the soil around them and are home to hundreds, if not thousands, of birds, animals, and beneficial insects. They uphold the biodiversity of an area, are massive carbon sinks, and provide ample oxygen.
Local communities have their own beautiful ways of recognizing the power of such trees. For example, the villagers of Shirkhara believed this banyan tree had special powers that allowed it to protect the river from soil erosion.
And it’s true! Tree roots stabilize the soil around them, preventing land degradation and protecting the area during natural disasters. Ancient trees do this job particularly well, which explains the “mystical powers” of the banyan tree. These villagers were deeply upset about the tree being cut, because their reverence towards this tree also instilled a sense of protection for it.
In a country that is currently suffering from the plagues of serial rapes, corruption, and violence, it is absurd that some people would choose to spend their energy on destroying a tree in the name of religion
Banyan trees have immense cultural, religious, and environmental significance, particularly in our region. Many communities believe trees to be divine and perform religious rituals around them. Banyan trees are a symbol of divinity and are seen as sacred by many animistic religions, including Hinduism and Buddhism.
Our indigenous communities have protected trees and forests for centuries, believing them to be sacred. These communities have lived around trees, caring for and loving them like dear friends. They have learned how to keep these trees safe and how to help them thrive. This is how cultural and religious values can motivate communities to protect nature.
This is probably why the idea of harming nature to protect any religion sounds rather contradictory to me. Perhaps this is the result of a toxic concoction of our detachment from nature and the tendency to memorize religious verses without understanding their virtue.
We get angry easily, make decisions abruptly, and show a dangerous disregard for anyone or anything who does not fit our idea of “right.” In a country that is currently suffering from the plagues of serial rapes, corruption, and violence, it is absurd that some people would choose to spend their energy on destroying a tree in the name of religion.
This is precisely the kind of short-sighted action we need to speak up against.
In 2024, the High Court passed a ruling banning the felling of trees in private areas across the Dhaka division without a permit. However, they exempted rural areas from the rule. This was done to protect the livelihoods of those who harvest timber. Perhaps we could benefit from adding a new set of conditions to this ban.
The forest department has always strongly discouraged people from harming permanent trees. However, it might be a good idea to include a specific clause that strictly prohibits the felling of ancient trees. Or perhaps they should be given legal rights as living entities, similar to the rights that our rivers have been given.
Of course, that is not nearly enough to truly protect our ancient trees. It must be done in coordination with genuine conservation and protection efforts. We must teach our children the value of such trees and allow them to build meaningful connections with nature. These trees provide shade to tired farmers, bear fruits for birds, and protect our ecosystems. They also hold century-old memories, shaping countless stories, art, and cultures.
It is protecting them that is our farz, not cutting them down.
Syeda Maisha Zahir is an environmentalist, focusing on Forest Conservation and Climate Justice.
