A tiger crossing the road in Tadoba Andhari Tiger Reserve buffer zone area near Chandrapur district, Maharashtra.
DH photo/ Ramu Mastaiah
The launch of Project Tiger in 1973 by the Indira Gandhi government marked a milestone in the conservation of tigers in India. The project demarcated tiger reserves to sustain tigers. It started with declaring nine tiger reserves and reached 55 in 2024.
The result: the tiger population has recovered from a couple hundred in 1973 to over 3,600 today, accounting for 75% of the global tiger population.
However, the animal’s success has come at a human cost. Since the launch of this movement, it has followed the colonial way of wildlife conservation in which protected areas are inviolate spaces devoid of human presence, where animals are left undisturbed.
This “fortress” model of conservation did not consider the views and traditions of the local indigenous communities living beside the animals. When a new tiger reserve is created, villages inside the demarcated area are relocated outside the reserve. “It doesn’t make sense as we’ve always coexisted with animals,” says Annu Jalais, an environmental anthropologist at Krea University. “The story of humans is the story of coexistence with animals.”
The conservation landscape has been in flux recently. Conservationists and government agencies like the National Tiger Conservation Authority—an organisation that manages tiger reserves—have realised the importance of involving local communities in conservation plans and letting them lead their implementation.
“It is very important that agencies be in the hands of the communities and not take away what little they have,” says Jalais. “If these communities have managed to keep the ecosystems thriving despite living in them, to the extent that they still survive on them, why should we then try to find ways of managing these areas?”
As the world rings in another International Tiger Day on July 29, it would be a good time to remind ourselves that conservation can only work through local people. This is especially true in India as we do not have a tradition of culling as many Western countries, despite animals being a nuisance in some areas. Perhaps we have a different understanding of non-humans—one of cohabitation.
Ironically, Jalais cites the theory of the French anthropologist Philippe Descola, which states that cultures where humans coexist with animals are also those where they cohabit with other humans. In contrast, cultures that exterminate animals are cultures that have practised colonialism.
“So it’s quite beautiful to see it is possible to coexist,” says Jalais. According to her, there is much to learn from Adivasis or communities that live in forests, as they never talk about animals that should be killed or culled. This is not due to conservation discourse but because this is how it has always been. People living near animals regularly experience crops being eaten by elephants, wild boars and ungulates. However, they continue to accept these creatures as part of the landscape. They even consider it a duty to offer some share of their produce to the animals.
“Landscape also belongs to the people living there,” says Diptimayee Nayak of the Department of Humanities and Social Sciences, Indian Institute of Technology - Roorkee. She says conservation is a two-way process where animals and local people are considered together. “Benefits must be shared if conservation is to be successful,” she says.
Nayak cites her work in Similipal tiger reserve from 2012, where people complained that conservation is only for the tiger and not the people. But in the past few years, this mindset has changed.
“So now people feel empowered that their consent is taken into account for major conservation decisions,” she says.
Her research shows this change has also led to a decrease in negative interactions between humans and animals. Nayak also found greater cooperation between forest officials and local communities. Through focused group discussions, people were made aware of various tiger behaviours, which led to a more informed understanding of the animals within the communities.
In today’s changing economic times, Nayak’s research also showed that local communities are aware of the tangible benefits that tigers bring to their lives. “People said if tigers are going to be conserved, we are going to find something of monetary benefit,” she says. The boom in tiger tourism has increased employment opportunities in many rural economies around tiger reserves like Corbett, Ranthambore and most reserves located in Madhya Pradesh. “People appreciate this,” says Nayak.
These are the exact opposite beliefs that Jalais encountered in the Sundarbans, where she carried out her research. People in the Sundarbans steadfastly believe that a tiger attacks those with greed or violent motives. “There is a saying—you need to go to the forest with a pure heart and empty hands,” says Jalais.
She went to the delta with the idea of documenting people’s lives and not of the tigers. But she found people obsessively speaking of the tigers. They spoke about the tiger in a humanising way, with a feeling of kinship. To them, a tiger was an animal that could understand and control them, be controlled, and appear in dreams.
“People were aware that forests exist only because of the tigers; if the tigers weren’t there, the forest wouldn’t exist, and we’d have nothing to live on,” says Jalais. “So, for me, conservation means to find solutions and ways to continue living in harmony with our environment.”
It is sound advice for conserving tigers.