N.Batsuuri, a Resident of the “Parko Riviera” residential complex located in the third khoroo of Bayangol District, expressed his growing concern that the destruction of the Selbe and Dund rivers might be intentional and orchestrated by the capital city officials.

“The citizens of Ulaanbaatar are on the brink of permanently losing the Selbe and Dund rivers,” he said. “Those of us living near the riverbanks witness firsthand the severe degradation of the Dund River. It’s become unrecognizable in recent years. Every day, I see the damage as I walk by or open my window, and it fills me with sorrow and frustration. I can’t help but feel that perhaps the rivers are being deliberately destroyed to clear land in the city center for more construction.”

Following the floods of summer 2023, extensive work began along the banks of both the Selbe and Dund rivers. Authorities claimed the post-flood efforts aimed to clean up sediment, remove pollution, and construct temporary embankments for flood protection. However, heavy machinery was used to dig through the riverbeds and reshape the banks, often with little regard for ecological impact. The following year, the capital city cleared away the willows lining the Dund River, leaving the banks barren and vulnerable.

“The public outcry on social media at the time is something no one has forgotten,” said N.Batsuuri. “Together with other residents, we approached our local district and khoroo authorities to raise concerns, but we never received any response.” He then continued, “Just when we thought this year might finally bring some peace, we were met with new activity—talks of constructing flood barriers, landscaping, and development began again. More equipment arrived, and new digging operations began in several locations. For example, at the junction where the Selbe River enters the heart of the capital city—stretching from Autozamchdiin Street in Sukhbaatar District’s first khoroo to the 43rd khoroo of Bayanzurkh District near the ‘Nature’ Trade Center—concrete walls are being erected. In our area along the Dund River, piles of rock and soil have been dumped under the guise of beautification.”

“It’s as though the rivers are being drained and turned into dry, polluted trenches. No one knows when the water will stop flowing entirely, but it feels like we’re heading that way.” The Selbe River flows from north to south through Ulaanbaatar and takes a sharp westward turn near the Narnii Road, eventually merging with the Tuul River. This western stretch is what locals commonly refer to as the Dund River. In essence, Selbe and Dund rivers are two parts of the same water system.

The concerned citizen, who lives near this very junction—just south of the Narnii Khoroolol residential complex—emphasized that he works in the environmental sector and has been closely monitoring changes in the river’s ecosystem for years. He keeps photographic records at regular intervals, fearing these transformations may one day serve as a bitter lesson in environmental mismanagement.

Moreover, he also pointed out that because parts of the Selbe River near visible landmarks—such as the U.S. Embassy in Mongolia and the “Corruption” apartment complex—are more prominent, people tend to focus on the work happening there. But he warned that similar “destructive activities” are occurring along other less-visible stretches of the rivers as well, and they are no less damaging.

In a move intended to protect Ulaanbaatar residents—especially those in the capital city center—from natural disasters, and to turn riverbanks into recreation areas, city authorities, in collaboration with relevant agencies, launched the “Selbe Revival” Project. However, the very initiative meant to restore the Selbe River may actually be putting it at risk of drying up completely.

As part of this project, in April, authorities began constructing a 1.5-kilometer-long flood wall and embankment near the S’Outlets store in the area commonly known as “Corruption” apartment complex. This sparked significant public criticism and resistance. According to the Agency for Land Administration and Management, Geodesy, and Cartography, the flood protection works are now over 80 percent complete and are expected to be finished by the end of this month. Final landscaping, fencing, and reinforcement efforts are scheduled for completion by August 1.

In reality, however, the project site remains chaotic and unsightly. At the same time, similar efforts to “green” and reshape the banks of the Dund River using natural stones and landscaping have drawn further criticism. These works also fall under the “Selbe Revival” initiative.

Just recently, during a walk along the banks of the Dund River, it was clear the river’s flow had significantly diminished, and the water had become polluted. Near the “UG Arena” sports complex and “Parko Riviera” housing complex, the riverbank had been dug up in multiple places, and large stones had been used to dam the flow. A yellow excavator sat idle in the riverbed—its origin, purpose, and schedule unknown.

This stretch of the river, previously designated as a protected zone—where any intrusion was forbidden—now seems lawless. The regulations appear to have been cast aside, and city officials seem to be recklessly bulldozing their way through what was once a natural haven.

Local residents commented, “We heard they’re building a walking path along the Dund River.” Meanwhile, the official website of the Agency for Land Administration and Management, Geodesy, and Cartography stated that “efforts to reshape, green, and reinforce the Dund River using natural stones are being carried out according to plan and in stages.”

What many see, however, is a grim trend: After trimming and cutting down trees and shrubs across the capital city under the pretext of “shaping” greenery, the authorities now seem to have turned their attention to the rivers. Who else but us would “reshape” a river by bulldozing its banks with excavators, or claim to protect against floods by dumping rock piles into the riverbed to slow the flow?

One resident said, “The most natural, least disturbed part of the Dund River is now ruined. This area, which was separated from the main road and had open space, was a place where people came to walk, jog, and enjoy fresh air. Now, the water is murky and smelly, dust is everywhere, and walking here is no longer pleasant. Even the waterbirds that used to frequent the area have disappeared. It feels like the river is dying.”

Conditions near the Altai housing complex are no better. Due to poorly executed and arguably destructive projects, the river has become no more than a narrow trickle. Its banks have eroded, choked by silt and sludge. During the summer floods of 2023, surrounding homes and neighborhoods were inundated. Authorities had to close roads and restrict traffic.

At the time, experts blamed the flooding on substandard infrastructure—namely, a bridge that didn’t meet safety requirements and a fuel station that had been constructed illegally in the floodplain. These structures narrowed the river and disrupted its natural flow. As a result, the city spent roughly 300 million MNT to demolish the “Shunkhlai” gas station located near the “Gobi” road intersection south of the Altai complex. However, the low, flood-prone bridge remains intact. In fact, trees and shrubs around it have been cleared, and construction continues to encroach on the banks from multiple sides.

Heavy equipment was reportedly seen working within the riverbed just west of the bridge—raising more alarm among local residents. Judging from recent construction along the central sections of the capital city, the “Selbe Revival” Project could end up draining the lifeblood of both the Selbe and Dund rivers entirely. Environmental specialists have noted that “restoration” activities following the 2023 flood—especially the transplantation of trees and bushes—have seriously harmed the Selbe River’s ecosystem. The water flow has decreased dramatically, and the river is in danger of drying up.

Experts now warn that the best way to protect the Selbe is to leave it alone and allow nature to take its course. Yet, the “Selbe Revival” Project seems to be doing the opposite—surrounding the river with concrete and machinery, suffocating it from every side. Despite this, city officials say the project includes plans to construct a 1.3 million cubic meter water retention basin to capture peak flood waters in the areas covering Bayanzurkh District’s 29th khoroo and Sukhbaatar District's 13th and 14th khoroos. Reports suggest the capital city is preparing to begin work on this reservoir any day now, funded by the capital city budget.

In light of these developments, many residents, environmental experts, and urban planners are calling for a complete reassessment of the “Selbe Revival” Project. Rather than focusing solely on concrete embankments and cosmetic landscaping, they urge city authorities to adopt a science-based, ecologically sensitive approach that prioritizes the long-term health of Ulaanbaatar’s rivers. Without meaningful public engagement, transparency, and accountability, what was once envisioned as a revival may ultimately become a cautionary tale of environmental mismanagement—where the price of progress was the silencing of rivers that once breathed life into the capital city.