Beyond myth: J&K’s human–wildlife conflict

By Bhushan Parimoo

Human–wildlife conflict in Jammu & Kashmir has escalated at an alarming rate in recent years and now demands urgent, serious attention. The Wildlife Protection Department of Jammu and Kashmir informed the National Green Tribunal that more than 17,200 human–wildlife conflict incidents occurred between 2020 and mid-2025, resulting in nearly 1,100 injuries and over 100 human deaths in just five years. Such incidents have become a recurring feature of life in the region, with no respite either visible or anticipated.

One of the primary reasons wildlife is increasingly drawn out of the forests and into human settlements is that animals have acquired a taste for human food waste. As natural habitats shrink, only fragmented traces remain. The resulting solastalgia—the distress caused by environmental loss—defies words and endurance, leaving people feeling utterly helpless. Every district of the Union Territory of Jammu and Kashmir has its own woeful tales to narrate, without exception.

Societal indifference, often tied to apathy or bystander unconcern, combined with government fiscal neglect and empty political rhetoric, has disproportionately impacted marginalized, rural, and indigenous communities. Frequently referred to as the “voiceless society,” these populations live on the fringes of forests and bear the brunt of this escalating crisis. While temporary compensation and expressions of sympathy remain the standard political responses, containing this growing trend requires shifting from reactive measures to proactive, systemic solutions—solutions that are currently being denied.

An unsettling trajectory

The current situation is deeply unsettling. Merely contemplating where events are heading fills one with intense anxiety. There is an urgent need to determine how to stabilize and reverse this trajectory—or, at the very least, restore the peace and stability once enjoyed, so that a healthier, more congenial environment can be rebuilt.

The stoic silence adopted by the sons and daughters of this land toward this gruesome scenario is deeply perturbing. We have been the true custodians of this environment and shall remain so for generations to come, passing down this duty just as it was passed to us.

The concerned departments function merely as caretakers on remuneration. They remain only as long as they are detailed, yet they are never held accountable or taken to task for the intemperate attitudes that cause irreparable damage to our natural habitat.

The fallacy of human independence

The notion that humans can live entirely independent of other creatures is a profound misconception. Historically and scientifically, human survival is fundamentally intertwined with the global ecosystem, making absolute independence a biological impossibility.

Protecting and passing on a balanced ecosystem is an absolute obligation—perhaps the ultimate moral and generational duty of humankind. If we fail to preserve the biodiversity necessary for harmonious coexistence, future generations will rightfully look back at our era and label us the destroyers of the living world.

Natural law has evolved such that a compassionate approach toward all living beings—including animals, plants, and the entire natural ecosystem—is a foundational pillar in many of the world’s major faiths and spiritual traditions. This concept is referred to in modern terms as creation care, eco-theology, or universal compassion.

No animal should vanish because we failed to protect its home. No forest should fall because we wanted more space. Protecting forests is not radical; it is responsible.

Humanity’s ecological Waterloo

Driven by relentless greed and a false sense of superiority, humanity has trapped itself in a dangerously short-sighted mindset. We have convinced ourselves that we are the absolute masters of existence, entitled to command the planet at will and capable of surviving entirely on our own terms.

Yet this blind arrogance is our undoing. By dominating and destroying the very ecosystem that sustains us, humanity is marching straight into its own ecological Waterloo, engineering its own downfall.

Who is the culprit?

A pertinent question arises: who is the culprit in the conflict between humans and wild animals?

In almost every scenario, animals are treated as perpetrators or nuisances, while humans are viewed exclusively as victims—despite human activities being the root driver of the conflict. Society consistently blames and punishes the animal, even when the animal is the true victim, because of anthropocentrism, fear, and economic survival.

Animals follow their instincts in their own territory, whereas human societies are hardwired to prioritize human life, property, and comfort above all else.

Drawing upon personal experience spanning approximately seventy-five years, whether in close proximity to wildlife or observing it in the woods, conflicts remain rare when humans respect boundaries. The golden rule is never to lower one’s guard or deliberately disturb wildlife in its natural habitat.

Relying only on a small axe, sturdy string, and a loyal dog reflects a sustainable way of gathering fodder and minor forest produce without over-exploiting the ecosystem. A dog in the woods serves as both a companion and an early-warning system, helping maintain that necessary layer of caution.

True sustainability is not about isolating humans from nature but about entering the woods with humility, awareness, and respect. While animals act purely on survival instincts, humans bear the responsibility for managing the shared environment. Assigning blame usually depends on the perspective from which the issue is viewed.

A coexistence as old as humanity

As the global climate warmed around 12,000 years ago, expanding grasslands increased herds of grazing animals such as deer, sheep, and early cattle. Humans who previously hunted these animals gradually learned their habits, leading to controlled herding and domestication during the transition into the Neolithic period.

Human–wildlife coexistence is as old as biodiversity evolution itself, rooted in millennia of shared landscapes, adaptive learning, and ecological interdependence. Throughout history, traditional and Indigenous communities developed deeply embedded cultural norms, taboos, and sustainable practices that allowed humans and animals to share resources without decimating one another.

Livestock and the shared landscape

Livestock raising is one of humanity’s earliest practices for securing survival, and it has evolved into a foundational pillar of the global economy. Livestock provides essential resources such as milk, meat, wool, and hides, while draft animals like oxen are traditionally used to plough fields.

However, because livestock grazing heavily depends on forests and natural habitats, it directly overlaps—and sometimes conflicts—with the habitats of wildlife.

To address human–wildlife conflict at this critical level, we must look at immediate tactical intervention alongside systemic ecological restoration. The mindset of “after me, the deluge” (or Pralay—total annihilation) occurs when society feels trapped in a corner.

However, saving human lives today does not require crippling the environment that sustains us tomorrow.

The writer is a Jammu-based environmentalist