Business Standard

Sunita Narain: Killing the carnivore

DOWN TO EARTH

Image

Sunita Narain New Delhi
There's a need to change the basic premise of the way we approach wildlife.
 
I really hope it is proved wrong when it is said that there are no tigers left in the Sariska Tiger Reserve, Rajasthan.
 
But if it is so, what is now increasingly accepted as a sad fact should actually make us extremely angry. We must know: who was responsible for this huge national loss? What amends will be made?
 
I ask this because the tragedy in Sariska is much larger than the frightening prospect of losing 18-odd magnificent creatures that prowled this reserve.
 
It is really about the philosophy, the policy and the practice of conservation. The answer to Sariska "" and to the many Sariskas, festering "" will then be to change the basic premise of the way we approach wildlife.
 
Otherwise, the blood of Sariska's tigers will be solely on the hands of their official managers and their unofficial propagandists.
 
Let us look at the different political and policy economies of this human-carnivore relationship. Over the past many years, the country has obsessed itself with protecting the tiger.
 
In the early 1970s, Project Tiger "" a programme to protect the habitat of this flagship species "" began. In 1976, forests and wildlife were brought under the Concurrent List to enable more centralised protection.
 
The original nine tiger reserves have grown to 28 reserves spread across the country. The total land area protected under the reserves is roughly 6 per cent of the forest area.
 
The status of a tiger reserve ensures co-ordination through a Delhi-based project tiger team, and Central funds: roughly, Rs 20 to 26 crore is allocated each year for these reserves. The management approach has also been universally tried.
 
The aim is to keep the core area "" the tiger's home "" pristine and free of biotic interference (people); the buffer area can have conservation-oriented use.
 
The powerful wildlife bureaucracy "" in it, I include those within the government (who run the conservation programme) as well as those outside (who decide what goes on in the name of conservation) "" has ensured that this variety of working is carefully safeguarded.
 
They want us to believe the key problem of the tiger is that too little money is spent on its protection.
 
What is really needed, they say, is forcefully implement wildlife laws; this would curtail the rights of people living in the reserves, strengthen policing and arm guards to the teeth to fight off poachers.
 
This group of well-meaning and passionate conservationists are right in their own way. Their mission is to protect the tiger, above all else. But they are only half right.
 
For the reality is that in India, unlike in the West, wilderness areas are where millions of people actually live. So when policy imbues the principle of exclusion, people inhabiting protected areas are discounted and displaced. Their livelihoods are destroyed.
 
So they become not protectors of the forest, but poachers. Their marginalisation leads to poverty, which in turn impoverishes the tiger. The carnivore-human conflict exacerbates: the truth of its exponential growth is visible in and around most tiger reserves.
 
More importantly, the conservationists have never really understood that the extraordinary diversity of India flora and fauna is not about "pristine nature" but the result of millennia of human-nature interaction.
 
It is, therefore, imperative we find ways not to isolate but to incorporate the conflicting demands of "endangered" species and, subsequently, endangered humans.
 
But all this has been said before. Rangarajan says the real crisis lies in the narrow social base of the wildlife community. I would argue their intellectual base is even smaller.
 
They refuse to open doors to new thinking or experimentation to find ways to make people and tigers coexist in harmony.
 
It is correct that the innovative community-tiger centred models of conservation are few and far between. It is also correct that there is no real alternative to the current fence-arm-exclude model India works on.
 
But it is also true that alternatives will have to be tried out. To take just one instance: hotels have sprung up near many tiger reserves, some even promoted by conservationists; some are expensive and almost all make profits sent out of the local economy.
 
The neighbouring villager may get some side-benefits through ancillary tourism activity. But the people who live in the vicinity of the tiger get virtually nothing. Over time, this use of the sanctuary for tourism "" unregulated and unmanaged "" will contribute to its destruction as well.
 
Can we not, for instance, seriously try approaches that will involve local people in owning tourism "" not just as guards, sweepers and guides "" but as custodians and managers of its biological and cultural heritage?
 
Yes, all this has been said before. But after Sariska "" after tigers that have vanished into thin air, or tigers that have been magically conjured out of it to keep the number game going here and in other reserves "" this needs to be said again.
 
And again, until conservation's mandarins begin to accept the truth that they need to turn their thinking upside down, or face extinction.

 
 

Disclaimer: These are personal views of the writer. They do not necessarily reflect the opinion of www.business-standard.com or the Business Standard newspaper

Don't miss the most important news and views of the day. Get them on our Telegram channel

First Published: Mar 15 2005 | 12:00 AM IST

Explore News