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Shrinking habitat of markhor, the shy wild goat

Markhor (Capra falconeri), known for its spiralled horns, quietly roams the rugged mountains in the landscapes of Jammu and Kashmir. Known for its grace and strength, the markhor is more than just a wild goat — it’s a symbol of...
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A female markhor. Photo by the writer
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Markhor (Capra falconeri), known for its spiralled horns, quietly roams the rugged mountains in the landscapes of Jammu and Kashmir. Known for its grace and strength, the markhor is more than just a wild goat — it’s a symbol of the region’s natural beauty, biodiversity and heritage. According to the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN), markhors are found in Afghanistan, India, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan, between the altitudes of 600m and 3600m. However, due to habitat loss, illegal hunting and climate change, the markhor was classified earlier as ‘Endangered’ and later, in 2015, as ‘Near Threatened’ by the IUCN.

The future of markhor isn’t just about conservation — it’s also about the people who live alongside it, the pastoralist communities whose lives are intertwined with these mountains and valleys.

For centuries, the pastoralist communities, the traditional herders of this region, have shared the landscape with the markhor. Moving seasonally with their livestock, these pastoralists knew the land, the wildlife and the rhythms of nature. The markhor found refuge in the high altitudes of the Pir Panjal range, in areas like Hirpora, Tattakutti, Tosamaidan and Kazinag National Park. The relationship between these communities and the wild was one of coexistence — each respecting the other’s space.

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But times have changed. Roads have been cut through the mountains, high-tension power lines pass through the wildlife sanctuaries and due to the armed conflict in the region, the markhor’s habitat is shrinking. The population of the markhor has also been significantly impacted by poaching for their prized horns.

Various conservation efforts are in place like the Markhor Recovery programmes run by the J&K Government, beside initiatives from organisations like the Wildlife Trust of India (WTI), WWF India, and the School for Rural Development and Environment (SRDE).

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While legal protection and conservation efforts have helped stabilise numbers, poaching and habitat destruction still pose a significant threat. Conservative estimates put the population of the markhor at around 350. Yet, the pastoralists who know these mountains believe the numbers are higher, possibly over 500.

Says Shamim Ahmed, conservation officer at SRDE, “Pastoralists play a crucial role in conservation. Through awareness of wildlife laws, sustainable herding practices and community-tourism initiatives, they gain new income opportunities and incentives to protect the land and the wildlife. It’s not just about saving the markhor — it’s about empowering communities to preserve their heritage.” His words resonate with local leaders like Samir Khazir, a sociologist with WTI, who emphasises the role of the community: “Conservation isn’t just about the animal — it’s about the people who live here, who understand the land in ways outsiders can’t.”

Yet, challenges remain. The installation of concrete fences, barbed wire and landmines blocks the natural movement of wildlife, putting animals like the markhor at risk. The NHPC high-tension power lines through markhor habitats only add to the disruption, not just fragmenting the landscape but also introducing noise and pollution, further disturbing these already shy animals.

Climate change threatens the markhor by pushing them to higher altitudes where food is scarce. The herding communities, too, feel the pressure. With development projects shrinking their pastures, they are forced higher into the mountains, into the markhor’s territory. As the line between human and wildlife space blurs, so do the chances of conflict. The markhor competes with livestock for grazing land, and although poaching has decreased, it’s still a threat, especially in the remote areas where law enforcement is weak.

In a region long troubled by political instability, conservation often takes a backseat. Resources that could be used to protect wildlife are diverted elsewhere, leaving both the markhor and the communities that rely on the land vulnerable.

Dr Sajjad Shafi, the newly elected MLA from Uri, understands the delicate balance. “Uri’s biodiversity is fragile,” he says, “and my focus will be on conserving wildlife like the markhor and ensuring peaceful coexistence between people and nature.”

There’s hope for both the markhor and local communities through climate change mitigation and adaptation strategies. Wildlife-friendly infrastructure — designed with corridors for animals — can ease pressure on the markhor’s habitat by allowing them to move freely and safely. Sustainable livestock practices, like rotational grazing and creating new pastures, would reduce the competition between the herders and wildlife. These efforts will not only protect the markhor, but also support local livelihoods, ensuring that both wildlife and the communities can thrive together.

— The Srinagar-based writer is an environmentalist and conservationist

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