Kaziranga is famed for the one-horned rhinoceros; it has 2,613 of them, accounting for two-thirds of the world’s population of this species. It also has 148 tigers, recording the third-highest density in the world, and a shifting population of over 1,550 elephants. The great hog badger, a threatened species, can also be found here. All of these animals require home ranges to eat or hunt — and none of them is cognizant of human-made boundaries. In Kaziranga, geography compels the need for a wide buffer zone. The national park’s northern boundary is the Brahmaputra. Its mighty annual monsoon floods force animals to seek refuge in the Karbi-Anglong highlands along the southern boundary. Here, National Highway 715 already endangers migrating wildlife. Rampant illegal mining in these hills has added to the threats.
Ironically, it is a Supreme Court ruling that opened the door for the Assam government’s gambit to redefine the buffer-zone threshold. In 2006, the Supreme Court asked all states to safeguard these areas with ESZs. In 2011, guidelines issued by the National Board for Wildlife allowed for buffer zones of more than 10 km. In 2002, during the hearing of a PIL (public interest litigation) petition, the apex court sought to counter states’ non-compliance with buffer-zone guidelines by mandating a 1-km ESZ. In 2023, following petitions from the Union and state governments on grounds that the order affected hundreds of villages, the court relaxed the ruling. It stated that a one-size-fits-all approach accentuated man-animal conflict and lifted the uniform mandate, specifying that ESZ limits must be area-specific and should depend on local geographies and ecological needs (the mining ban was retained). It was this relaxation on which Assam based its application to the Centre.
By privileging “development”, however narrowly defined, over conservation, the chief minister may discover suboptimal gains. Tourism revenue from Kaziranga has been soaring — in 2024, it hit an all-time high of ₹8.8 crore. Although much of this gets absorbed into reinvestment in the park by the state’s forest department, a significant part also goes to local stakeholders such as guides, drivers and so on. All of this means exponential indirect gain for the hospitality and retail sectors. The ecological decline of the Bannerghatta National Park, near Bengaluru, stands as a cautionary tale; nearly 100 square km of its buffer zone has been stripped away since 2016 to accommodate the city’s sprawl. India is a proud example of its ability to enable humans and wildlife to coexist. It would be a pity if this rich environmental legacy were marred by legalised encroachments.