Disputing The Lion's  Share

EARLY last month, at the Gir Wildlife Sanctuary in Gujarat's Junagarh district, a forest guard, tracking the trail of a strong fetid odour, uncovered from a leaf-heap the decomposed remains of a lioness close to the lightly-guarded eastern fringe of the 1,400 sq km sanctuary.

The four missing paws were proof that the animal had been slaughtered for its nails, which are worn as talisman by the rich and famous. The discovery caused much surprise and alarm, for reported incidents of lion-poaching have been few and far between in a sanctuary whose efforts at saving the endangered beast have been hailed as a grand success: between 1974, the year Gir, the last retreat of the Asiatic lion, was declared a National Park, and 1995, the lions have proliferated from 180 to 304.

The slaughter isn't a solitary occurrence. With the recent exhuming of lion remains, which, forensic experts testify, were slaughtered about four months ago, there is increasing suspicion that the poaching incidents were just a tip of the iceberg and, what's more, perpetuated with the active connivance of forest department personnel—three forest guards were recently arrested for having looked the other way while a group of mercenary poachers from the Makrani tribe, indigenous to the area, took the fatal shot at a lioness.

But the poaching incidents themselves are just symptomatic of a deeper malaise gripping the sanctuary: should the lion be protected at the cost of the thousands of tribals—of whom the Maldharis (pastoralists) forms a sizeable chunk—residing within the sanctuary for generations? Explains activist Mohammad Bhai: "The Makranis never used to kill lions. But once they were ousted from the sanctuary, they felt robbed of the resources they took for granted. Confronted with poverty, poaching seemed an easy way out."

The killings have also exposed the myopia of conservation wisdom, that the lion can be saved only in a human-free, pristine environment. While the forest department be proud for increasing the lion's pride, it is guilty of ignoring the possibility that the Gir grasslands may not be able to accommodate lions' lebensraum.

And that's what's exactly happening in Gir. The slowly shrinking habitat is virtually teeming with lions. Result: the claustrophobic cats are moving out of the sanctuary and trespassing on human settlements near the sanctuary. Over the last five years about 42 lions have established new homes outside the sanctuary. Last December, a lioness and her two cubs were spotted loitering near Diu.

Explains Ravi Chellam of the Dehradun-based Wildlife Institute of India (WII) who holds a PhD on the Gir lion: "Each male lion aspires to be landlord of about 150 sq km. Since Gir doesn't have enough for all of them, there are fights. The losers often suffer from an identity crisis and leave the sanctuary in search of greener pastures." The deprived adults have already established themselves in neigbouring areas like Junagarh's Girnar forest, Mitiala forest in Bhavnagar district and the coastal forests of Saurashtra. It seems they want to regain 2,560 sq km of the original territory they occupied in 1956, when their population was 290.

The consequence of the diaspora: man-animal confrontations are on the rise. People living in and around these forests are in constant fear of lions poaching their cattle. It's not cattle alone. Humans too fall victim. Like Naranbhai, 38, who lives near the Mitiala forests. "I was happily returning home one fine evening," he recalls. "As I emerged out of a wooded stretch, I walked right into a lion staring at me. Before I could react, he was upon me. "He lost his right hand in the encounter.

But he is lucky to be alive. Not so Bharati, 10, who lived in Khambha village on the periphery of the Gir sanctuary. Her father remembers that ill-fated day: "She had gone to nearby bushes to ease herself. When she didn't come back for two hours, I became impatient and went out looking for her. I could only find her blood-stained clothes. The beast had gobbled her up. "

In fact, between 1988 and 1991 the big cats attacked 125 humans of whom 20 died. "But lions don't kill humans for food. Mostly they attack out of sheer panic," clarifies Mahesh Singh, deputy conservator at Sasan Gir. Though the forest department has an indemnity scheme for injuries or death caused by lions outside the sanctuary, villagers claim the compensation is paid very late and often not the whole amount. But of greater concern, the lions have been devouring livestock in increasing numbers. Between 1985 and 1995 lions killed about 15,500 cattle, 4,000 in the National Park and 11,000 outside. Says Shyamal Tikadar, principal, Gujarat Forest Rangers College, Rajpipla: "Over time, Maldhari livestock have evolved a delicate equation with the Gir ecosystem. For one, the cattle keep the grass from growing out of control, keeping forest fires in check. Second, they feed the appetites of lions. Even now they form nearly 40 per cent of the lion's diet. Given a choice, I would choose the lesser evil, the Maldharis."

Maldharis or not, the wanderlust-struck lions have put the forest department in a terrible fix. And there is no easy way out. Selective killing of lions, though now an accepted practice in Africa and Australia, is not even being debated here. Relocating the lions to another sanctuary is a practicable solution. Chellam says this would not only solve the problem of man-animal conflict but would also ensure longer survival of the lion. "Inbreeding can become a major threat to the lion's existence. A pestilence can wipe out the entire population," he warns.

BUT relocating is fraught with problems. This possibility is being tried out at the Kuno Sanctuary in Madhya Pradesh. Chellam believes the sanctuary is similar to Gir and would be an ideal translocation site. But this would entail expanding the Kuno Sanctuary over 750 sq km of the surrounding Sheopur forest, displacing 7,500 Saharia tribals, and is bound to run into trouble. Though conservation authorities assert they have a Rs 20-crore plan to resettle displaced tribals, people haven't forgotten the blunders committed in Gir when thousands of Maldhari tribals were displaced in 1972. The date of releasing the first batch of lions is already six months past.

Another option is increasing the size of the sanctuary as part of the Greater Gir plan. But as Madhusudan Mistry of DISHA, an NGO championing tribal rights, points out: "Where's the space? If they are thinking of incorporating Girnar and Mitiala forests into the sanctuary, they're out of their minds. There are hundreds of villages on the fringes of and inside these forests. Displacing them would be disastrous."

But the beleaguered forest department's favourite option is: displace all the settlers living inside the sanctuary to make room for the lions. The forest department did try this in 1972 in the wake of a number of studies that attributed the decline in the numbers of lions and their wild prey to voracious grazing by the Maldhari livestock.

However, the resettlement experiment bombed. In 1970 there were 129 Maldhari nesses (hamlets) with about 845 families and 16,842 cattle. Of the 592 permanent Maldhari families proposed to be resettled outside Gir, only 458 could be actually settled. The remaining 134 who could not be resettled for want of plots and water facilities should thank their stars, for those who finally left Gir are in a pretty bad shape today. They were given 3.2 ha of land each to begin agriculture, but being pastoralists they failed miserably at farming.

In resettlements like Vallabhnagar and Premnagar no one has taken to farming. Complains Burajeeva Bhanu, 60, of the Vallabhnagar resettlement: "How could they expect us to till land when we had never done so? Besides, we weren't given any implements to work the soil with."

Most of the resettled families have abandoned their plots and have migrated to nearby towns to work as labourers. Or else they work as contract labourers on others' fields. Some have given their lands on contract to farmers. Many even returned to the forest, joining the ranks of 176 non-permanent Maldhari families whose legal status remains uncertain. A permanent Maldhari was defined as one who had been staying in the sanctuary for at least 10 years before 1971.

Mistry finds it ironical that while foreign expertise was solicited to save the lions, the rationale behind converting Maldharis, who have been rearing cattle for centuries, into farmers overnight was never questioned. But despite the resettlement disaster, forest officials insist that the Maldharis are enemies of Gir's prized possession.

And if recent reports are any indication, they have revved up their drive to oust the remaining 361 Maldhari families and their 10,000-odd cattle from the sanctuary. Fresh notices have reportedly been served to some families living inside the sanctuary, asking them to vacate their nesses under the $74 million Ministry of Environment and Forests-World Bank-Global Environmental Facility ecodevelopment project foreight protected areas, including Gir, which seeks to "protect and develop the Gir Sanctuary and the National Park and their peripheral areas, with a view to preserving the Asiatic lion, apart from creating nature awareness among the people of that area".

But Aseem Srivastav, conservator of wildlife, Junagarh dismisses the reports as malicious, "clarifying" the department had served eviction notices only to three persons residing illegally in the sanctuary, who he alleges have a "criminal past".

But a local NGO, Saurashtra Paryavaran Sanrakshan Samiti, has evidence of the eviction notices. Chandrasinh Mahida, conve-nor of the Samiti, produced as evidence a notice, dated January 28, 1996, served to a Maldhari resident of the Panchali nes situated inside the sanctuary. Likewise, another notice warned Maldhari Ranma Lakhman

Rabari that he must clear out of his nes within a month as he has lost legal rights to stay in the sanctuary. "You would be solely responsible for any damage to your property or cattle in case you do not vacate on time... you would have no right to claim any damage," the notice reads. Similar notices have reportedly been served to two dozen other Maldharis.

Points out Achyut Yagnik, director of SETU, an Ahmedabad-based NGO: "This is in gross disregard of the recommendations of the proposed project which clearly says that there would be no involuntary resettlement of people during the project period."

Sceptics believe the ambiguous clause seeking to "reduce negative environmental impacts of local people on biodiversity" can be easily used by the forest department as a pretext to throw the Maldharis out of the sanctuary. In fact, the forest department's biodiversity conservation plan for Gir hints at relocating almost every settlement, pastoral or agricultural, outside the sanctuary.

The World Bank-aided project has drawn flak for not taking the settlers into confid-ence. "Worse still," notes Yagnik, "the four NGOs involved in the project preparation have nothing to do with the problems of the people living inside the sanctuary."

But who's bothered about people? Of course, the lion needs to be protected. Though recent studies from around the world suggest that it doesn't have to be at the expense of humans, it will be some time before conservationists can shake off their dogma. For now, saving the lion seems to be the sole concern of authorities. Poach-ings and human deaths notwithstanding.