The Nilgiris as a shared wilderness : Valley Vision

Exactly 20 years ago, in the summer of 2004, I fell in love again. First with a tree, then with a mountain, and, eventually, with a whole biosphere. On an exploratory journey in Coonoor, Tamil Nadu, my husband and I landed up in a beautiful colonial bungalow with an enormous blue gum eucalyptus at the entrance. Until that moment, I had thought of the species as foreign, as invasive, as water greedy. All its negative labels disappeared as I gazed in astonishment at the girth of this giant, its ghostly branches, and its perfectly balanced canopy. Soon, we had a second home in the Nilgiris, and a new commitment to the conservation of this remarkable ecozone.

The Nilgiri biosphere is the first UNESCO-declared biosphere in the country, covering over 5,500 square kilometres across the three States of Karnataka, Kerala and Tamil Nadu. From the iconic Doddabetta, rising 2,637 metres into the sky, to the 260-m depth of the Moyar gorge, it encompasses a rich biodiversity. It has endemic flora and fauna seen nowhere else in the world, such as the medicinal Baeolepis nervosa plant used by the Irula tribe, the Nilgiri Chilappan, and the star-eyed bush frog.

More human activity, new challenges

Of late, this biosphere has seen more human activity than ever before. Known primarily for its colonial-era tea plantations, it now boasts a thriving agriculture and tourism economy. While both sectors bring in much needed livelihoods, they have also brought in new challenges.

The tourism is less sustainable than local communities and the State would like, with day-trippers adding to the waste and the traffic snarls. Farmers increasingly use heavy pesticides and fertilizers, which contaminate once pristine water sources.

In the face of such rapid change, local communities have galvanised themselves to protect their home. Many civil society organisations in the district have innovated for sustainability, such as ‘Clean Coonoor’, a public-private partnership that creates a circular economy for growing solid waste. And the Keystone Foundation, which empowers indigenous and local communities for climate resilience.

The State government and the district administration too have advanced aspirations for the Nilgiris, including the three hill stations of Ooty, Coonoor and Kotagiri, which attract visitors from across the country.

They plan to go carbon neutral, stop plastic waste, conserve endemic species such as the Nilgiri tahr that roam the high shola grasslands and reduce invasives such as Lantana camara and pine to restore native shola species in the valleys.

Alongside, there is an increasing interest in the culture and the history of the ancient Nilgiris. The settlements of the indigenous Toda community, who have lived in the Blue Mountains for millennia, are a must on the tourism trail. Unfortunately, only a few hundred people remain today, a frail link to the ecological knowledge of ancestors past.

Conservation success, helping the state

A measure of the success of conservation efforts is in the numbers of wild animals that thrive in the Nilgiri Biosphere, the largest forest expanse in the country with protected areas including Mudumalai and Mukurthi.

Increasing wildlife numbers have led to wide dispersal outside protected areas. Wildlife is everywhere now, in new ecological niches created by global warming. Plants and animals have successfully adapted to living almost incognito among us. The best example is that of the elusive leopard, which has developed quite an appetite for domestic dogs.

You can find the Indian gaur in the tea plantations, wild pigs in the garbage dumps, and sloth bears and leopards prowling around bungalows at night. Last year, a rather clever sloth bear broke into our home, wandered around the house, and, no doubt, disappointed by the lack of food, left the house jumping from the first-floor balcony. We were away, but our CCTV cameras recorded the entire adventure.

Neighbours have had wild encounters too, with porcupines and mouse deer, elephants and leopards. Surprisingly, people seem to have adjusted to this development, though human-wildlife conflicts hit the news every so often.

This is part of an emergent global culture where billions of people are becoming nature lovers. They are rediscovering wonder. Citizen science has become a movement. Thanks to democratising technologies, people can share the beauty around them with one click; they can raise issues of concern, about shrinking habitats and human-animal conflict.

Clear evidence has emerged through the work of non-governmental organisations such as the Nature Conservation Foundation and WWF, that simple, yet powerful, technologies, which include early warning systems through mobile phone-based alerts, cameras and GPS tracking of animals, have helped reduce dangerous wildlife encounters.

When animals are so widely loved and so closely tracked, poaching becomes much riskier. Poaching thrives in secrecy, away from the public gaze. When tourists and wildlife enthusiasts wish to immerse themselves in wilderness, there is economic incentive locally to ensure that nature flourishes.

If we want to continue to conserve this unique biosphere, it must be with the help of society, of the samaaj. We have to align also with the bazaar — represented by plantations, farmers, traders and the tourism industry. The state, including the Forest Department, cannot be the sole steward of the wild.

It is impossible for sarkaar to take whole and sole accountability, even if the Wildlife (Protection) Act 1972/The Wildlife (Protection) Amendment Act, 2022 says all wild animals belong to the state. The perception that animals are the government’s responsibility creates a great disaffection in the public mind. Farmers get angry with the forester. Plantation owners become wary. “If these are your animals, you keep them. Why are they eating my crops, or injuring our workers?”

Yet, hard boundaries, fences and walls are neither feasible nor desirable, to keep animals inside the forests.

Instead, what if we assumed that we are all in this together? What if we created a trust network of everyone interested in the conservation of our biodiversity? What if we took advantage of all emerging technologies such as sensitive cameras, satellite imagery, sensors and artificial intelligence, both within and outside of protected areas? What if all citizens of our country were engaged in the regeneration of our natural wealth?

The pivotal role of storytelling

As I have discovered in my 40-year ecological journey, to conserve nature, we first must learn to love. To love, we have to sense. It is not a mere intellectual exercise. If we see the beauty and the frailty of the wild, its flora and fauna — from the tiniest ant to the mightiest elephant, our wonder is ignited. We want to protect, to nurture and be nurtured.

Not everyone can visit every area of wilderness they wish to explore.

Storytelling by the few who can is critical to the process of creating communities for conservation. Our ancestors in the Nilgiris knew this well. In Sigur and Vellerikombai, the rock art created thousands of years ago still celebrates the relationship between humans and animals.

Charcoal and chalk have been replaced by cameras and pixels, but the urge remains the same. To share, to connect, to preserve.

Tomorrow, November 3, is International Day for Biosphere Reserves. In a first such documentary, we at Rohini Nilekani Philanthropies, together with Felis Films, are proud to present The Nilgiris – A Shared Wilderness. We have dedicated this film to the communities of the Nilgiris and to Forest Departments across the biosphere.

We hope it will spark more curiosity, evoke more affection and spur more action across samaaj, sarkaar and bazaar for the continued protection of the precarious and precious Nilgiris.

Rohini Nilekani is Chairperson, Rohini Nilekani Philanthropies and the author of Samaaj, Sarkaar, Bazaar – A Citizen First Approach