 |
Can we save the Tiger?by Prerna Singh Bindra in The Pioneer
August 7, 2005: - Prerna Singh Bindra |
I have just received the report prepared by the Tiger Task Force (TTF) set up by Prime Minister Dr Manmohan Singh to deal with India's tiger crisis. The report reached late, providing little time to read and examine it thoroughly, so commenting on it may not be entirely appropriate. At first glance, undoubtedly, there are many good observations and recommendations that the TTF makes, even if various committees under different heads over the years have been harping on much the same things - sharing the benefits of tourism with local people, the creation of a wildlife crime bureau - without anything much ever coming out of it. Attached with the detailed report is a press note, which highlights what the Chair of the task force deems significant. Even a cursory glance is not essential; just the headline which says, "TTF presents an action agenda to save the tiger the Indian way, where forests are not wilderness but also the habitats of people," sums up the core of the problem. Excuse me, but forests not being wilderness? Doesn't the term "wilderness" define a forest? Tigers and people cannot live together in peace at the same place. If there is such a recommendation by a committee mandated to suggest measures in response to the vanishing tiger crisis, then the very purpose of the task force is defeated. Co-existence, in a rapidly shrinking habitat with an ever-increasing human and cattle population, can only mean disaster for the tiger. A habitat must either be devoted to the tiger or to people. If you place them both together, the tiger continues to lose out. Just like Sariska, where, since the turn of the century, the tiger has lost over 95 percent of its original range to people. Tigers need inviolate areas to procreate. They are breeding today only in one-fifth of the present habitat of about one lakh sq km, and only in the least disturbed areas. The report suggests that "Habitat must be shared between people and tigers, so that both can co-exist, as they must." How one wishes that there were ways habitat could be shared between people and tigers in a way that peace prevails. Let me present an example that explains why such utopian dreams are futile. Late one night last month I got a call. It had been a satisfying day, considering that one of wildlife's most dreaded criminals, Sansar Chand, who had been evading the law for many years, had been caught. He was many steps away from justice - given the abysmally low rate of conviction in wildlife crime - but at least he was behind bars. At least he was not out, free, busy running his gory empire of planning, monitoring and financing the killing of tigers (and other animals like leopards) and smuggling their derivatives to flourishing, illegal markets in the Far East. Perhaps, his carefully set up network of poachers and middlemen would weaken and tigers in the forest would get a short, blessed reprieve. But how naïve can one get? Besides, there is the fact that India has more than one Sansar Chand - in the month that he has been in prison there has been no let up: in the past two weeks, four tiger skins and over 10 kg of tiger bones have been recovered. For the moment, let's concentrate on why people and tigers cannot share the same space. Which takes me back to the call. From a friend - one of those rare souls mired in the thankless job of protecting the tiger - particularly in the Vidharbha region of Maharashtra. He was in deep distress. "We don't need Sansar Chand," he said, "We are managing to kill tigers very well on our own." Rithe had reason to mourn. Melghat Tiger Reserve, once a pristine habitat for the Panthera tigris tigris and part of the contiguous, rich forest of Vidharbha, is now degraded almost beyond redemption. Melghat has a pressure of over a lakh cattle grazing within the precincts of the reserve. Cattle in the sanctuary is a silent killer: immense pressure from grazing impacts the competitive ungulate population and ensures that grass does not regenerate. In Melghat, even the core areas are severely degraded and officials doubt that the forest will recover. The 1,600-odd sq km - 532 sq km were denotified in 1994 - includes 58 villages with a population of nearly 25,000 people, tribals included. They do not live merrily with the tiger, or other animals. Wild boar, sambhar and cheetal devastate their crops, so they set traps and poison waterholes in retaliation. Poisoning waterholes is the most effective method, resulting in the indiscriminate eliminating of all manner of species. Especially in summers when rivers dry up and animals - tigers included - must go to the few waterholes that remain. Unfortunately, these are usually laced with pesticides. In June 2005, three cheetal died because of poisoned waterholes. Offenses were registered against 16 local people. The villagers had dug soil near the waterhole, put synthetic fertiliser and pesticides like urea and endosulphan. Only one arrest could be made. The tribals threatened to set the forest on fire. It wasn't an empty threat. All through the summer of 2005, the forest department worked ceaselessly to put out fires deliberately set by locals. Thus officials, busy fire-fighting, wouldn't interfere with cattle grazing inside. Even more importantly, locals enjoy rights to forest produce within certain limits and harvest tendu leaves from the forest. Tendu tends to grow more, and better, if the grasses underneath are burnt. The fire raged on in Melghat. Officials lacked modern fire-fighting equipment, and 70 percent of the staff - already reeling from a 30 percent shortfall - were affected. Things were so bad there that in one instance, a forest guard sought to quench his thirst from a waterhole, and barely survived. Only a lean, weary forest force guards Melghat today, and the situation with grazing has come to such a head that help has been sought from retired para-military personnel. A few hundred miles away, as the crow flies, is the Tadoba Tiger Reserve. A tigress with three cubs was poisoned last year at the edge of the reserve. One can cite a hundred such cases of severe conflict. Ranthambhore. Panna. Bandhavgarh. And of course Sariska, the worst example of how people in a park are used, and abused, by wildlife traders to kill resident wildlife. The CBI report on Sariska confirmed this. Even among one of the most tolerant communities, the Maldharis (who have lived peacefully with lions within the Gir National Park for years), tolerance is fraying. In the last three years, nearly 70 lions have died. Officials say, off the record, that some among these were victims of poisoning. Mr Prime Minister, in Utopia, a cozy togetherness between man and tiger may be possible. In reality, in India, it's either one or the other. As the issues highlight, the truth, however unpalatable, is that tigers and people cannot live in peace together. People will always live in the shadow of fear. The tiger's prey base will diminish and they will increasingly hunt cattle and sharpen the conflict. A decision must be made whether we can make tiger habitats inviolate. Disturbed habitats lead to a myriad of other problems: degenerated forests, a diminishing prey base, tiger hunting cattle and even men, and men in turn taking revenge. And the vicious cycle continues. At this point, we have reserved about one percent of the country's land for the tiger. Another three percent is protected area. We must decide, now, whether we want to conserve this land of the tiger. Rationalise how much land we can spare for it, and then identify viable habitats. Like Kanha in Madhya Pradesh, Kaziranga in Assam, Corbett in Uttaranchal which have minimum human disturbance or Bandipur-Nagarjunasagar-Madumalia and Wynaad in the south. To maintain a minimum human population. And distribute the rest of the land to the people. Only, be prepared for the consequences, for the tiger is the guardian of the forest which form the catchments of over 300 rivers across the country. If he goes, we go too. |
 |