Sunday Economic Times, 4 Dec, 2011 (a shorter version was published)
The stakes are high. At least five million tourists visit India’s forests every year. The polarisation is stark. Conservationists, forest officials, even scientists, are on opposite sides of the battle line. The question before the apex court: Should India’s best forests, made inviolate by shifting local communities out, serve as tourist hubs?
To understand why the premise of this debate is misleading, let’s try a few simpler questions.
Can wildlife be saved in protected forests without the support of local communities? Wild animals do not follow manmade boundaries and are bound to use unprotected areas where their wellbeing depends solely on local goodwill. Where people are hostile, wild animals get killed.
But can we expect people, who pay almost the entire cost of conservation, to be sympathetic to wildlife? Commercial extraction of timber and forest produce is not allowed in a sanctuary. Regular crop raids by wild herbivores frustrate agriculture and predators kill livestock. Green laws restrict industries or mines, limiting opportunities for local employment.
So, can the local economy around forests be boosted without compromising the wilderness, or better still, while creating incentive for conservation? Only eco-tourism can do the trick. Even converting agricultural fields into tourist camps is a win-win deal: the farmer’s liability – an invading herd of deer – is the hotelier’s asset to flaunt.
So why the debate? Is it because the government is shifting poor villagers from critical tiger forests and the ethical dilemma of entertaining rich tourists in the same space weighs heavy on some minds? But conservation is a scientific, and not an ethical, concern. Shifting villages out ensures less competition for natural resources inside forests because villagers use water, wood, forest produce and, on occasion, kill wild animals in retaliation or for food.
But does the equation change if tourists lodge inside the same forests? For example, Corbett’s Dhikala tourist complex is bigger than most forest villages. It is sheer hypocrisy to shunt villagers out and allow tourists to squander the same resources.
But do wildlife safaris take a similar toll on forests? Safari tourists are not allowed to alight from their vehicles or elephants. Yes, the dust kicked up by vehicles is an irritant; as is crowding of the wild. But since there is no scientific study yet on the true impact of such disturbance, jungle safaris should be acceptable in any part of the forest within a set of strict common-sense regulations.
The real danger of tourism is not inside the forest but around it. The mushrooming hotels and resorts pump out scarce groundwater, often to fill swimming pools, dump garbage indiscriminately, burn forest wood in their kitchen, even quarry local stone for construction. These walled properties allow little access to animals and anyway their floodlit lawns and noisy discos drive wildlife away.
There are some economic spin-offs, in ancillary services, of having so many hotels. But, in the absence of local capacity building, outsiders fill most of the lucrative positions – from the front desk to the kitchen. The locals who do benefit from tourism are only a small part of the population. More than two lakh people live in the 96 villages and two towns adjacent to Ranthambhore. Just about 5000 are directly employed in tourism.
A recent proposal by an MoEF panel to make these hotels share a steep 30 per cent of their turnover with local communities is a no-brainer. What we need are targeted regulations for tourism facilities within a 5-km-radius of our best forests. For example, they should compulsorily maintain a certain built-up to open area ratio, limit use of resources such as water and firewood, discard artificial fencing, halogen lamps and amplifiers in the open, and follow a safe garbage disposal policy. Hotels must also invest in local capacity-building and recruit two-thirds of workforce locally (paying them an equivalent proportion of the total wage) in a phased manner.
Many existing properties have little open land. While those blocking key wildlife corridors have to be demolished, others can compensate by purchasing equivalent land adjacent to forests and leave it for wildlife and forest regeneration. This could be the first step towards the development of vibrant buffer forests where the government wants to shift the pressure of tourism.
Many quasi-wildlife tourists demand swimming pools and night clubs close to forests. Likewise, there are some who would sacrifice most creature comforts for an authentic wildlife experience. So while recreational resorts may be allowed beyond a reasonable buffer, two-room forest rest houses even deep inside tiger forests should be open to tourists who can make do with a hard bed, a basic toilet, a two-course meal and lights out after early dinner.
Corrupt officials in the forest department and the district administration frustrate any attempt at reforms. But the onus is also on the industry. Those players who follow good practices should form a self-regulatory body to ensure responsible and inclusive practices. Tourism has a future in the wild only if the tiger and the tribal do. The courts in their wisdom will give directions, but the cleansing must begin at home.
