AS long as can be remembered, the earthshaking roar of a mighty lion has made big and small creatures tremble or run away. Aristotle wrote about this phenomenon in the first millennium BC when travelling through the Balkans. King Xerxes of Persia, advancing towards Macedonia, stood stunned when the sound preceded an attack on his entourage’s camels. Striking with their paws, the lions tore into the beasts of burden and bloodied the desert sands.
From early history, lions have been figures of authority. They have been celebrated in folklore, epic tales, religious texts, children’s stories, and in a rich array of visual arts from Mauryan seals to Mughal paintings. Their strength and grace and power are upheld in India’s national emblem, the Ashoka pillar. More than 2,000 years ago when the image was engraved into the pillar at Sarnath, Emperor Ashoka added a message advocating non-violence, tolerance and respect for all living creatures.
Tumultous changes
Unfortunately this message to respect and protect animals has been long lost in the winds of time. Even the best prides of lion haven’t been able to survive the tumultuous changes in their environment and man’s direct onslaughts. Perhaps the peak of such destruction was in the 19th century when shikars and adventure seekers went after the `royal game’.
Today the African lion is listed under the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species and two of its subspecies, the Barbary lion and Cape lion, have long vanished. In India, a subspecies that split from the African lion some 100,000 years ago is facing an uncertain future.
The last of the Asiatic lions, Panthera leo persica, and its prey survive in the shrinking tracts of mixed dry deciduous and teak forests of Gir and its surroundings in Saurastra, Gujarat. Spread over 1,400 sq km, the habitat is home not just to the Asiatic lion but also to the highest concentration of top carnivores such as leopards, jungle cats, cheetahs, rusty spotted cat and the single largest concentration of marsh crocodiles in the country.
Within the lion community, consanguinity is leading to genetic regression, low birth and high infant mortality. People have encroached into the habitat. With buildings and an unabated tourist and pilgrim flow, the tree cover has reduced considerably and impacted the numbers of chital, sambar, nilgai, hare and wild boar. Consequently, lions have less prey and often attack the Maldharis’ livestock. Right from the Nawabi days, the cattle herders have been compensated for this loss.
In a bid to avoid man-animal conflict, the Gujarat Forest Department has been trying to relocate the forest people to specially allotted land outside the sanctuary. The herders are reluctant to abandon their traditional homes and animal husbandry practices. They find it difficult to adapt to agricultural life outside the forest, which is largely based on commercial agriculture — groundnuts, mango and cotton. The few Maldharis who have tried their hand at this have been unsuccessful. And their cattle grazing practices outside the forest have also come a cropper, as they have to deal with rough elements, encroachments and privatisation.
Driving the lions away
The ensuing environmental pollution and intrusion are taking their toll, scaring away lions or cramping their life style. With diminishing territory, the feline is fighting with its back to the wall and, when all else fails, moving out of the coastal forests. Much to the anguish of conservationists, environmentalists and the Forest Department, the King has been spotted in the most unlikely places. Hapless prides of lion stalking deserted beaches in the Gulf of Khambhat and the Arabian Sea are now common.