Just one interpretation

An admirable sketch of the history of the ongoing struggle of India's wildlife to survive into another century ... RANJIT LAL on Mahesh Rangarajan's book

OF late, there has been a flurry of publications relating to India's wildlife and conservation, most of which have been of sound standard - well researched and eminently readable. To this, Mahesh Rangarajan's slim India's Wildlife History is a splendid addition, filling a gap that still remained, and providing a perspective (just one perspective or interpretation, as he insists) from which one can view the ongoing struggle of India's fabulous wildlife to survive yet another century. Also, it is important to look back and analyse, so that you can look ahead more clearly and perceptively. Today, the issue of conservation is as much about people as it is about flora, fauna and ecosystems.

While the book does follow a roughly chronological path, it often tacks back and forth in time as Rangarajan tackles the major matters and events concerning wildlife that occurred parallel to one another. He starts off with "The Forests and Fields of Ancient India", describing the attitudes prevalent at the time of the epics (as early as 3 A.D. forests were seen as "another land, culture and space, set apart not only by beasts and birds but also by its people"), and the use of elephants as engines of war by the Mauryans. The rulers claimed the forests for their own. Then came the Mughals for whom the hunt was a means of pleasure and relaxation, not to mention a method of measuring a man's mettle. But politically, hunts were also camouflaged armed expeditions, and could be used for intelligence gathering. Despite the huge numbers of animals killed (Jehangir killed 17,000 animals) the forests still teemed with wildlife. Also, the Mughals were genuinely interested in flora and fauna and made meticulous notes about what they saw.

Then came the British, marking what Rangarajan calls a clear watershed in the way jungles and wildlife were thought of and managed. The British changed the face of the jungles as never before and their impact was much greater than that of any of their predecessors. The British were the first to officially begin the extermination of "errant" species (the tiger, all carnivores, elephants, rhinos, buffaloes included) as they had done - to the wolf - in their own country, by paying bounties for kills. Also, the countryside was being "divided into just two landscapes" - farmland and forest. By the late 1800s however, the elephant's worth as a weapon of war was recognised and some protection accorded.

But the tiger continued to have a bad time - its only friends being trophy-hunting sportsmen who were worried they might run out of prizes. (Between 1875 and 1925, 80,000 tigers were officially killed.) Ironically, the tiger survived because much of its territory - the hill forests - was protected by the British interest in timber. Apart from bounty hunting, "sport" hunting took a massive toll as well. As game everywhere became scarcer, new "norms" were put into place to ensure that the sahibs were still able to go on their shoots - "Game Associations" and "Tent Clubs" came into being, reserving areas around plantations and cantonments exclusively for the pleasure of the British.

If the British were big killers, the maharajas of princely India were worse. Unable to go to war (being under the thumb of the British), they turned their attention (and guns) on the wildlife in their realms. Princely India, concludes Rangarajan, left behind a mixed legacy. "While many of today's famous reserves were royal hunting reserves, to see the princes' efforts as conservationist ... would go against their own record of their deeds," he says.

The Forest Act of 1878 gave the Government the power to annex vast areas of forest, and by the early 20th Century, 20 per cent of the land in British India had been declared government forest. Much of this land had been taken from adivasis, and the motive was "the changing significance of forest wealth in the empire's scheme of things". Or, to put it succinctly, timber. A new form of property control and management - by a Department staffed by experts - had begun. By the early part of the 20th Century, some British officials had also begun thinking that protecting wildlife was more civilised than slaughtering it.

Rangarajan also touches upon the relationship between tribals, peasants and nature. While some religious and cultural traditions and practices (like that of looking after sacred groves) protected wildlife, others were not so kind. But there was respect and fear for the denizens of the wild.

By around the 1930s, attitudes had begun to change, and for the better. Two men, F. W. Champion, and Jim Corbett were chiefly responsible for this, and when India became independent, there was an influential body of thought that supported protection and played a central role in limiting further damage. Salim Ali, E. P. Gee and M. Krishnan were three pioneers in this regard. But now, shikar companies and just about anyone with a gun had started going berserk in the jungles, and it was not until the 1970s that the carnage was brought to a halt. Mrs. Gandhi's firm hand, the Wildlife (Protection) Act of 1972, and Project Tiger (which internationalised the issue) helped Indian wildlife - and especially the tiger - make a spirited comeback.

The events of the recent past - the shocking cases of poaching at Ranthambhore, the prolonged people versus protected areas issue (a fallout of Project Tiger), and the denotification of protected areas in this era of economic free for all - reflect the major issues of the day and present challenges that must be met. Earlier, a strong Central Government ensured that Project Tiger was implemented in the field; today, the Centre is weak and State Governments strong. For them, Project Tiger is not as big a hit as may be mining for minerals in a park or sanctuary. The prevailing tense relationship between locals and park managers is a legacy of the old order - when the needs of the former for compensation, participation or relocation were ridden roughshod over. Now joint management between locals and authorities is being mooted as one alternative, but as yet has little legal backing.

Yet we must not lose hope, says Rangarajan. We have a vibrant democracy, an aware citizenry and there is the possibility of working out a synthesis between different forms of knowledge, he says. Let us hope so.

Rangarajan has sketched out India's wildlife history admirably, separating, yet merging together, the major issues and trends, so that you see both the wood and the trees at the same time. For anyone interested in more detail, his immaculate notes at the end of each chapter, and the comprehensive Bibliography at the end of the book tell you exactly where to look. In a couple of instances, he has been diplomatically quiet about naming (notorious) names - and that I guess, is for the reader to ferret out! As he said in the beginning of the book, this is but one interpretation of the subject. Read it and form your own. l

RANJIT LAL

India's Wildlife History, Mahesh Rangarajan, Permanent Black (in association with Ranthambhore Foundation), p. 135, Rs. 250.

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