Rewriting the rules of survival in Gir territory

“The world is not to be put in order. The world is order incarnate. It is for us to harmonise with this order.” — Henry Miller

The picture was mesmerising — two farmers, their hands resting on weathered knees, seated calmly amid golden fields. Just a few paces behind them, two sub-adult male Asiatic lions stood tall, their watchful eyes surveying the landscape. It was a photograph that seemed almost surreal. Social media was abuzz with opinions — was it real or just another digital fabrication? My curiosity got the better of me, and I found myself drawn into an investigation, piecing together accounts from Gujarat’s forest officials, wildlife experts and local communities. What emerged was a tale of change, adaptation and an evolving coexistence between humans and the wild.

The Asiatic lions, with their shorter manes and regal strides, have a history as expansive as their former range — from Greece to India. By the early 20th century, their empire had dwindled to the dry deciduous forests of Gir in Gujarat. Less than 200 lions remained, clinging to survival in the sanctuary that would become their last refuge.

Gir National Park, a sprawling mosaic of forests, scrublands and grasslands, has been a lifeline for these lions. Here, prides thrive in familial bonds, hunting deer, antelope and wild boar in the soft light of dawn and dusk. Among them, the Maldharis — traditional herders — have long lived as neighbours, their livestock an occasional temptation for the hungry predators. Efforts to mediate this uneasy coexistence, from compensation schemes to grazing alternatives, have shaped the park’s conservation narrative for decades. These conservation measures and relentless efforts of the Forest Department have resulted in a significant increase of lions. As per the latest census, the number of lions in Gir is above 650.

But the Gir forest itself is changing. Teak plantations, planted over the years, have grown dense, transforming open expanses into shadowy corridors. The forest floor is now a thick carpet of dry teak leaves, crackling underfoot with every step. For lions, stealth — so crucial for hunting — has become a challenge. The leaves, while innocuous to the untrained eye, act as an acoustic alarm for the prey, scattering potential meals before a lion can pounce. The leaves also pose another threat: they are a tinderbox, waiting for a spark to ignite biodiversity loss, destroying ground nests, invertebrates, and the fragile ecosystem underfoot. Furthermore, the lions have outgrown the carrying capacity of protected area, and, therefore, the prides often move out of the notified boundaries of the national reserve.

As per wildlife experts, the notified area of the park (1,410 sq km) is just enough to support 350-400 lions, and hence, some lions have sought solace beyond the protected area of Gir’s boundaries into the agro-pastoral landscape of Saurashtra, covering nine districts. Surprisingly, their new home, the agricultural fields, which are open stretches, mimic the savannahs of their evolutionary past, and hence offer space to roam and better opportunities to hunt. Blue bulls, wild boars, and deer — drawn to farmers’ crops — have unwittingly brought lions into the fold. For the big cats, it’s a buffet; for the farmers, it’s a blessing in disguise.

“We don’t mind the lions,” one farmer told me. “They keep the crop raiders away.” This unspoken alliance between the predator and the farmer has cultivated a remarkable tolerance, even towards the occasional hunt of domestic cattle by these lions. Unlike in dense forests, the fields allow lions to hunt with ease, and the well-fed pride reduces damage to crops.

It is important to note that this phenomenon isn’t unique only to Gujarat. It was observed in eastern India where tea plantations were grown over a century ago. The leopards of the area found it easy to hunt and hide in the newly-developed tea garden habitat, rather than dense woodlands. It seems these apex predators are more adaptable than we once believed.

But not all is idyllic. With lions venturing closer to human settlements, the risk of conflict looms. Therefore, the growing overlap of human and lion habitats underscores the need for proactive measures. Community education, better livestock management and innovative coexistence strategies will be essential. Engaging locals as stakeholders, not just spectators, in conservation efforts could turn potential conflicts into collaborative solutions.

The story of Gir’s lions is far from over. From the dense teak forests to the sunlit agricultural fields, these big cats are rewriting the rules of survival. Their resilience is a testament to nature’s ability to adapt, even in the face of human encroachment and environmental change.

For me, the photograph that started this journey has become more than just an image — it’s a symbol of coexistence, fragile yet full of hope. Whether in Gir’s forests or Gujarat’s fields, the Asiatic lion continues to inspire, reminding us of the delicate balance required to share our world with the wild.

— The writer is former Principal Chief Conservator of Forests (HOFF), Haryana