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As the Kerala Forest Department intensifies efforts to capture and relocate a wild elephant moving around Vadakkanad in Wayanad district, the operation has entered a critical phase marked by repeated failure, rising public anger and growing scientific dissent. The plan to confine the elephant in a kraal at Muthanga and eventually convert it into a kumki has triggered sharp questions from experts, environmentalists and legal practitioners, who argue that such interventions neither solve conflict nor comply with established ecological and legal principles.
The urgency of the operation has been shaped by recent developments on the ground. The department’s latest attempt to capture Muttikomban failed on March 25, following an earlier failed attempt on March 24. In both instances, the elephant evaded capture despite coordinated efforts involving around 80 forest personnel. During the March 25 operation in the Valluvadi-Kannarampam region, the capture team led by Chief Veterinary Surgeon Dr Arun Zachariah moved in after identifying what appeared to be a favourable moment around 5.30 am. The attempt collapsed when the elephant charged at the team, forcing them to retreat. In the confusion, Muttikomban ran onto the Valluvadi road and escaped through a damaged boundary trench back into the forest.
Officials have since acknowledged that the elephant’s behaviour has become more cautious and unpredictable, possibly due to repeated attempts to capture it. Wildlife Warden Varun Dalvi has said that the operation will continue despite these setbacks, even as local frustration grows over what residents describe as delayed and ineffective action.
The immediate trigger for the operation is a recent human fatality in Vadakkanad, where a young farmer, Rajeev, was killed earlier this month. While local residents widely attribute the death to Muttikomban, forest officials maintain that there is no conclusive evidence linking the elephant to the incident. This gap between perception and proof has become central to the unfolding controversy.
Muttikomban has been repeatedly entering farmlands and plantations, damaging crops and heightening fear among residents. Forest teams have driven him back multiple times, but he continues to return. Officials describe him as problematic, a habitual crop raider. However, there is no established record of the elephant killing a human, and no publicly available scientific evidence identifying him as the animal involved in the recent fatality.
A petition submitted by environmental groups challenges the basis of the operation. It argues that no camera trap images, photographic records or forensic evidence have been produced to establish Muttikomban’s involvement in any specific incident. It also highlights that the elephant is part of a transboundary population moving across Wayanad Wildlife Sanctuary, Bandipur, Mudumalai and Nagarhole, one of the most important elephant landscapes in southern India.
The petition further raises concerns about the circumstances surrounding the fatal incident, pointing to illicit brewing and unauthorised human presence inside forest areas, particularly at night. Such activities, it argues, disrupt elephant movement and may provoke defensive behaviour. In the absence of clear identification, targeting a specific elephant is being described as arbitrary and legally untenable.
Environmental activist and lawyer T S Santhosh argues that the operation fails to meet the legal threshold required for capture. “The Wildlife Protection Act clearly states that capture is a last resort and requires documented evidence of threat. That standard has not been met here,” he says. “Without scientific identification, this becomes an arbitrary decision driven by pressure rather than law.”
The Wildlife Protection Act, 1972 restricts capture to exceptional situations where an animal poses an immediate and verified danger. It also mandates that non-invasive alternatives must be exhausted before such action is taken. The petition argues that these safeguards have not been followed and that the operation may also violate the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Act, given the stress and suffering involved in capturing and confining a wild elephant.
There is also a deeper concern about intent. According to the petition, Muttikomban has been under consideration for capture for years, with the aim of taming him for use as a kumki. If true, the current operation is not merely about conflict mitigation but about converting a wild elephant into a captive working animal.
For conservationists, this reflects a broader shift in how conflict is being managed. “We are removing animals instead of addressing the conditions that produce conflict,” says Veena Maruthoor. “Turning a wild elephant into a kumki may solve an immediate administrative problem, but it raises serious ecological and ethical questions.”
The larger context of human-elephant conflict in Kerala underscores these concerns. Over the past six to seven years, well over 700 wild elephants have died in the state, many due to human-related causes such as electrocution, explosive-laden bait, poisoning and accidents. Human casualties have also continued. This is not a series of isolated incidents but a structural crisis driven by habitat fragmentation, encroachment and the erosion of traditional elephant movement paths.
In such a landscape, experts argue that removing individual elephants does not resolve conflict. Aju Mathew George, a scientist with Project Elephant who later served as Principal Chief Conservator of Forests, points to a pattern that Kerala has repeatedly witnessed. When a wild elephant is captured and removed, the space it occupied is quickly filled by another elephant responding to the same ecological pressures.
Palakkad offers a clear example. After the capture and relocation of PT-7, another elephant soon appeared in the same area. In Chinnakanal, the translocation of Arikomban was followed by the arrival of Chakkakomban. Efforts by environmental groups helped halt the proposed shifting of PT-5, recognising the limited long-term value of such interventions. Similar dynamics are expected if Chakkakomban is moved from Nelliyampathy, and are already visible in Athirappilly with Ganapathy.
“The idea that removing one elephant will end conflict is fundamentally flawed,” says T S Santhosh. “As long as the landscape remains the same, another elephant will step in. We are not solving the problem. We are only shifting it.”
The failure of past capture operations reinforces this argument. The case of Arikomban in 2023 remains a stark example. Captured after being labelled a problem elephant, he was relocated with the expectation that conflict would end. Instead, he moved across new areas, triggered further encounters and eventually crossed state boundaries. The operation did not eliminate conflict. It displaced it.
Capture itself is a high-risk process. It involves tranquilising a large wild animal, restraining it and transporting it under extreme stress. Across India, there have been multiple instances where such operations have resulted in serious injury or death. Even when successful, relocation often leads to new conflict situations.
Researcher on elephants Muneer Tholpetty argues that the current approach ignores these lessons. “Capturing and bringing an elephant into a kraal is not a solution,” he says. “It does not address why the animal is coming out in the first place. Unless you deal with habitat issues and human pressures, the conflict will continue.”
Both Santhosh and Muneer emphasise that more effective alternatives already exist. Radio collaring, continuous tracking and early warning systems can help anticipate elephant movement and reduce conflict without removing the animal.
“Radio collaring allows us to monitor movement in real time and alert people in advance,” Santhosh says. “It reduces risk and avoids unnecessary capture. But here, even that basic step has not been taken.”
Despite this, Muttikomban has not been radio collared. Monitoring has not been used as the primary strategy. The state has moved directly towards capture.
At the ground level, however, the pressures are immediate. The elephant’s repeated entry into farmlands has caused significant crop damage and fear among residents. Villagers have also pointed to damaged boundary trenches and gaps in forest protection measures that allow elephants to move easily between forest areas and settlements. Many say these structural issues have not been addressed even as the focus shifts to capturing one animal.
As the kraal rises in Muthanga and operations continue in Vadakkanad, Muttikomban’s story has become more than an isolated incident. It has become a test of how Kerala understands and manages human-wildlife conflict.