‘The Cobra’s Gaze’ by Stephen Alter tells why the rich tapestry of natural heritage matters

Stephen Alter is no newcomer to nature, wildlife and mountains of India as a writer, but this is a tour de force by any stretch. While much of wildlife writing is focused on the mega fauna, such as the tiger, rhino and elephant, his travels take him to the habitats of a range of creatures. These include the hamadryad or king cobra of Agumbe rainforest, Karnataka, and the black buck of Tal Chappar in Bikaner, Rajasthan.

One of his inspirations is EH Aitken or EHA, a British-era civil servant and author of ‘Behind the Bungalow’. Aitken anticipated today’s birders and tree lovers as he was intrigued by all living things, including the small and insignificant, the banal and the not-so-beautiful. His exclamation, “How abysmally ignorant we are”, is what Alter sets out to remedy and very substantially.

What is charming is Alter’s sense of place and context. A short trip to Kuno in Madhya Pradesh, once intended as the second home of the lion and two years ago chosen to be the first of many sites of cheetah reintroduction, helps him pose a larger question. Exactly what is being restored and why? African cheetahs may well play the same ecological role as the Asian, but are they the same animal? In turn, it is time there is a larger reassessment of why and how lands as rich in fauna and flora as grasslands are regarded as nothing but wastelands.

This is the larger insight from the work: no part of India is without its distinctive life forms and ecological systems. While not comprehensive in coverage, the scope and scale of Alter’s travels over a few years is remarkable.

Of course, and as expected, he is at his best in native Uttarakhand where he retraces the journey of Corbett, from hunting towards conservation. But he also takes time to dip into the Tamil Sangam and Sanskrit poetry to remind us of the ways in which nature and culture often shaded into one another in India’s cultures and still do. The Tamil poems, in particular, evoke a range of landscapes and moods from the coast to the mountain.

Nowhere is this more starkly evident than in the Sundarbans, where tigers prey on people and Bon Bibi is seen as the protector of woodcutters, cultivators and fishers, Hindu and Muslim alike. Such relationships are not always benign and his reportage on the Chambal river shows how the gharial, a crocodilian, was once in decline due to its killing for skin and the male’s distinctive gharra.

There were also unintended consequences of past actions, such as the Nawabs of Junagadh protecting lions for trophy hunts and giving them a vital lease of life. This was as early as 1879: there are now more lions in and beyond the Gir forest than ever since estimates began. As in the rest of the book, the author recreates the sense of wonder about the place, not just the lions but the trees and the spotted deer, the monitor lizards and the barbets.

Yet, the challenge runs like a thread through the book. The far-reaching ecological consequences of India being one of the fastest growing economies on earth have implications for the natural heritage. Expressways and mines through or in forests take a toll on large and small animal life. They also fragment habitats and unsettle the flow of water or even the stability of hillsides. Many of these changes are irreversible.

How India will manage the balance of growth with equity often occupies centrestage in public debate. This work is a timely reminder of the intrinsic importance of a rich tapestry of natural heritage. The range and breadth of coverage and the lucid writing and field photographs by Alter make it a must for all nature lovers.

It is a timely reminder of the need to be aware of not only the challenge, but the opportunity for timely action. A fine work for the specialist and the lay person alike.