Village relocation from the core areas of India’s tiger reserves has been a persistent issue in conservation efforts. Amid recent field work to the core zone of a tiger reserve, I was able to interact directly with both forest officials and the residents living inside the protected forest area. Although official accounts stress the importance of maintaining uninterrupted habitats for tigers, the realities on the ground present a much different and far more intricate narrative.
India boasts 58 notified tiger reserves, with around 600 villages (nearly 64,800 families) still residing within core tiger habitats as of 2024. Since the launch of Project Tiger in 1973, several families have been relocated, but the process is far from complete. The National Tiger Conservation Authority (NTCA) and conservationists argue that tigers, being solitary and territorial animals, require “inviolate spaces” for survival and scientific guidelines recommend a minimum area of 800-1,200 sq km to maintain a viable tiger population of 80-100 tigers. To achieve that goal, the relocation of villages is seen as essential.
There are two main options to facilitate relocation: either a monetary compensation package consisting of 1.5 million Indian rupees (around $17,500) per family, with each adult counted as a family unit; or alternatively, a rehabilitation package consisting of agricultural land with additional benefits. The process is officially voluntary in nature and designed to be beneficial for both wildlife and people.
However, implementation is fraught with challenges such as the use of outdated surveys for compensation calculations. For example, compensation is sometimes determined based on family structures from over a decade ago, ignoring demographic changes such as children reaching adulthood. There is also a sense of a communication gap between people and the authorities, due to which the full range of benefits and entitlements are not transparently disclosed leading to mistrust and resistance. Additionally, there are bureaucratic hurdles and limited resources.
Villagers speak of their deep connection to the land. Photo by Arpit Sharma.
The wild tiger population in India has more than doubled in just over a decade, rising from 1,706 in 2010 to an estimated 3,682 in 2022. This remarkable conservation achievement has earned the nation global acclaim. Yet behind that positive story there lies a quieter narrative of the relocation of entire villages from the core areas of tiger reserves.
For many villagers, relocation is about more than just compensation. Emotional and cultural ties to ancestral land run deep. During my fieldwork, I heard the common themes that echo across reserves. “This land is not just soil to us; it holds our memories, our stories, and our ancestors. Leaving it is like losing a part of ourselves,” an old villager told me. Despite lacking basic amenities such as electricity, schools, or healthcare, many villagers feel a deep sense of belonging and adaptation to forest life.
Although the NTCA insists that all relocations are “voluntary” and require informed consent, there have been instances where this voluntary consent has been obtained through pressure tactics such as denial of basic services, coercion, and threats, which authorities attribute to administrative pressures rather than deliberate harassment. Recent months have witnessed protests and petitions from tribal communities and civil society groups describing forced evictions and unfulfilled promises. Reports have surfaced of families being moved out overnight, with little warning or support, and of forest guards restricting villagers’ movements or their access to their own homes. Sometimes the alternate land being offered is not fit for agriculture with many relocated families struggling to sustain their livelihoods. While visible violence may be rare, the psychological toll of intimidation, and sense of helplessness is immense.
India’s tiger reserves are a reflection of the nation’s commitment to wildlife. But the human cost of this success cannot be ignored. Human absence can have unintended ecological effects. Vacated village lands can see a rise in invasive plant species like lantana, which degrades habitat quality and reduces prey for tigers. Additionally, the presence of villagers provides “soft surveillance,” restricting poachers and illegal activities.
The road ahead calls for more than just statistics and slogans. A transparent and participatory relocation process with independent oversight, updated household data, and assured post-relocation support is essential to uphold both justice and conservation. At the same time, exploring coexistence in buffer zones offers an alternative to uprooting entire communities.
True conservation must be about more than numbers. It must respect the dignity, rights, and voices of those who have lived in harmony with these forests for generations.
As one villager said, “If you take us out of the forest, you take the forest out of us.”
The challenge now is to find a path that protects both India’s tigers and its people, ensuring that the roar of the tiger does not drown the cries of the displaced.