A lot of water has flown down the Narmada and the Chambal since I joined the Madhya Pradesh cadre of the Indian Forest Service in 1977.
For many years into the service, I never realised that wild animals and people are in a deadly conflict. I was not taught wildlife management at the Indian Forest College—the precursor to the Indira Gandhi National Forest Academy. Human-wildlife conflict was also not in the curriculum when I came to the Forest Research Institute for training in wildlife management in 1981. Perhaps the phrase “human-wildlife conflict” (HWC) had not been coined yet. How could I think of it? Yes, how could I think of HWC when Jim Corbett, who had inspired me to become a forester, had famously declared that tiger—the prima donna of Indian wildlife—was a large-hearted gentleman. So, as soon as I was trained and ready, I plunged into conserving the wildlife of Madhya Pradesh. When village residents questioned why we were saving dangerous animals, I gave sermons about the integrity of ecosystems and the interconnectedness of life. Any death or destruction caused by the “large-hearted gentleman” or its associates was just collateral damage in a noble cause. Even the affected people appeared to accept it as an act of God. HWC did not make much news then.
The Wild Life (Protection) Act (WLPA), 1972, was my bible. It was so logical and rational back then. Without saying so explicitly, it treated wildlife as a natural resource which could also be destructive, like fire, if not managed well. It provided for the creation of several categories of protected areas (PAs)—national parks, wild life sanctuaries, closed areas and game reserves. Wild animals could be hunted in these PAs only under exceptional circumstances. In other forests, they could be hunted for the usual reasons, that is food and fun, but under a permit. Animals showing dangerous tendencies or temperament could be hunted without compunction. The law may not have been perfect, but I liked its pragmatic approach.
However, as the days passed, I started feeling that something was not right about my job. I started thinking about the local people whose ageless sustenance practices had been rendered illegal for providing secure spaces to wildlife. People did not complain …
This article was originally published in the September 1-15, 2025 print edition of Down To Earth