Big cat is fair game

Without science, money and mandate won't save the tiger

The Times Of India (edit, pg 22) March 21, 2009

In this age of notoriously short public memory, it is good news for conservation that the tiger issue is still alive in the media. But even after so much media outcry for so long, the tiger still makes only sad headlines. Why only the media, some of the country's mightiest institutions Parliament, Supreme Court, the Prime Minister's Office and CBI have devoted unusual attention to the tiger since the 2005 Sariska expose. But too many big cats officially 39 in the last three years are still getting killed.

So, why is our conservation story still a mess despite all the attention and resources? Maybe most of us who are supposed to fix it don't know how. Consider how we handle so-called maneaters. Be it Tadoba, Sunderbans or Corbett, the administrative response to conflict is usually ad hoc and much of the media coverage just provocative. In most cases after an attack, the media and the local officials hastily label the tiger a maneater, make people panic and together hound the top authorities who, in turn, save their skin by issuing orders to capture or kill the "beast".

The danger and excitement associated with maneaters can make many jump the gun (or pen). But how can we expect even the more sensible forest officers and reporters to act responsibly if they have no knowledge of tiger behaviour? Ironically, it does not take too much to be reasonably sure about the nature of an animal attack.

I was in Corbett in June 2005 when an attempt was made to dub a tigress a maneater after an attack on a mess worker in the Dhikala complex. It made for a fascinating story. The tigress with her four semi-adult cubs used to come looking for scavenging animals near a garbage dump where Dhikala mess workers disposed of kitchen leftovers. One night, a mess worker returned to his quarter late. As he bent over to unlock his hutment door, a tiger pounced on him. His screams made his colleagues rush to the spot and the tiger scampered, leaving the man badly injured.

This triggered a rumour of a maneater tigress roaming free around Dhikala. The tourist rush to the lodging complex reached an all-time high. A curfew would be imposed daily at seven in the evening and forest patrol parties guarded the complex through the night. During the investigation, it became clear that the tigress was not to blame. One of her cubs had mistaken the mess worker for prey. The tiger could not break the victim's neck, indicating that the animal was one of the inexperienced cubs. The Corbett authorities did not buckle under pressure and no attempt was made to capture or kill the tigress. No subsequent attack was reported.

In contrast, the tiger that recently attacked a woman in Corbett was promptly tracked down and packed off to a zoo. But for a central intervention that irked a number of Uttarakhand officials, it would have been shot dead. Similarly, in defiance of biological indicators, the Uttar Pradesh forest department's response to five so-called maneaters was determined by assumptions, media hype and public pressure. When the Centre forced the state to revoke arbitrary shoot-at-sight orders, it triggered a turf war. Not long ago in Tadoba, officials shot down a wrong tiger a robust male to placate angry villagers demanding elimination of a tigress accused of serial attacks. Bandhavgarh also lost a couple of so-called maneaters to zoos, no questions asked.

Mindless killing or trapping of big cats has become almost a seasonal routine in Sunderbans where simple steps like effective crowd management could avoid many human injuries and allow safe passage to most tigers caught in the middle of people. Many consider it a major triumph for conservation if they can avoid shooting down a so-called maneater and instead rescue it to a zoo.

A zoo tiger may sound better than a dead tiger, but in terms of ecological loss, both amount to one tiger less in the wild. The same misconception prompts opinion-makers to argue that the tiger will survive extinction only if people have economic incentive to farm the animal. Conservation is not about raising a million tigers in ranches but about letting a few thousands be in the wild, where at the top of the food chain they protect the ecology of forests that, in turn, ensure our water security.

But why blame amateurs when many of our forest bosses are not scientific managers but merely bureaucrats? The latest flashpoint between the Rajasthan forest department and the Centre involved the relocation of a third tiger from Ranthambhore to Sariska. The Centre had instructed the state to pick up one of the floaters, young tigers still looking to establish territories. Shifting a resident tiger upsets not only the uprooted animal but also the rest of the resident population. But the state bosses chafed since getting hold of a suitable floater required rigorous tracking. Soon, the media was quoting unnamed sources to blame the Centre for delaying the relocation process.

The fault, indeed, lies in the fundamentals. No amount of political will or funds can turn the tide in the absence of a professional, informed management. A little homework will harm no one, and certainly not the media.

The writer is a Delhi-based journalist and film-maker.

Misguided media and conservation

Watch your steps in conservation minefield

New Indian Express (Page 11), Feb 26, 2009

Numbers make sensational headlines but seldom tell the complete story. The fresh uproar over the tiger mortality figures released by the Centre was expected. But again media denied itself the opportunity to delve beyond the obvious.

Obviously, it is bad news that 39 wild tigers were killed in the last three years, especially after the Sariska lesson, an investigation by the CBI, a few prime ministerial interventions, a parliamentary legislation, a couple of new central agencies, and a four-fold hike in the budgetary allocation for protecting tigers.

The media outrage, however, is limited to slamming the usual suspects. We know political will is lacking, that resources available with the forest establishment are inadequate, and that there is constant pressure from the timber, the mining and the poaching mafias.

Despite these odds, certain pockets do show good results, thanks to a few dedicated people. But individual passion is not enough for turning the tide across India. For that to happen, we need a delivery system that works wonders when run by gifted individuals but does not trip even in the hands of mediocre staff.

Unfortunately, even four years after Sariska, we are far from institutionalising such a professional and transparent system. Most attempts at reform get sabotaged by internal bickering — both within the government and in the larger conservation fraternity. Often, even the media ends up playing in the hands of such negative forces.


Consider the recent drama over the ‘man-eater’ of Corbett. Forget science, even common sense was dumped by state officials in their hurry to declare the tiger a man-eater. But man-eaters make news. So when the Centre questioned the arbitrary labelling, a section of the media was no less miffed than the Uttarakhand forest bosses.

The tiger could have been left alone under strict monitoring or, if it was a young floating animal looking for territory, moved to a less disturbed forest area. But the field staff had no records, and given the sentiment of the people fuelled by media hype, it was too late for any scientific assessment. So the animal was trapped and dispatched to a zoo. Blame incompetent ground management or contradictory signals from the top, but India lost another wild tiger that was not counted among those 39.

The same story played out in Uttar Pradesh where the ground management failed to keep track of big cats spilling out to sugarcane fields. Once attacks on people were reported, forest authorities started issuing contradictory orders. Meanwhile, the media established the animals as man-eaters and agitated villagers left little room for scientific evaluation. Soon we ended up having gunmen chasing runaway tigers all over the state.

Similar contradictions fuelled the Panna fiasco. By the end of 2007, it was clear that no tigress was left in the reserve’s core area. Wildlife Institute of India (WII) and National Tiger Conservation Authority (NTCA) confirmed the crisis and by mid-2008, even before tigers were airlifted to Sariska, it was decided that Panna would get a couple of tigresses from Bandhavgarh.

However, the Madhya Pradesh forest department made a mockery of itself by claiming that the tiger density in Panna was fine but a few tigresses would anyway come handy in producing more cubs. These statements triggered unnecessary controversy and the media, fed by a few experts ever anxious to settle personal scores with the forest department, kept rediscovering the story.

Not so long ago, when NTCA published the findings of a “transparent” (states were kept out of the process) national census in 2007, Madhya Pradesh challenged the report which indicated a sharp 60 per cent decline in the state’s tiger numbers. Eventually, the state accepted the new figure of 276 tigers but not before it had questioned the motive and competence of the central agencies. No wonder many in the union ministry think the better part of their jobs is to battle the limitations of the federal system and the sensitivity of centre-state (read Congress- BJP) equations.

Take the Rajasthan example. When the idea of relocating tigers from Ranthambhore to Sariska was first floated in late 2005, everybody agreed that the reserve must first plug the holes that led to the tragic local extinction. But without fulfilling the preconditions, the state forest department repeatedly pushed NTCA for a go-ahead. Top NGOs and experts, who found favour with the Rajasthan forest department, also joined the chorus. After resisting for over a year, NTCA finally succumbed to the accumulating pressure.

Not a coincidence that Rajasthan, like Madhya Pradesh, was another BJPruled state.

When the state wanted to airlift a third tiger from Ranthambhore, a few conservationists pointed out that picking up animals with established territories would upset them and also the rest of the resident population. This time, NTCA put its foot down and asked the state to find a floating animal — a young one in search of territory — for relocation.

Just when good sense seemed to have prevailed, the state forest bosses, miffed at being tasked with tracking a targeted animal rather than making do with any they could lay their hands on, started a not-so-covert campaign against the NTCA order. Suddenly we found unsuspecting cub reporters from national and local dailies criticising a basic scientific precaution in various “news” reports.

Complex issues often deny screaming headlines and competitive sensationalism rarely presents the true picture. Similarly, paper reforms will achieve little unless rogue states are reined in and the system is made immune to personal agendas.

(The author is an independent journalist and filmmaker. mazoomdaar@gmail.com)