Losing our heritage

For decades, Nagaland’s natural heritage has been bleeding out. Its rivers, once teeming with life, have been “thoroughly sterilised” by poison and exploitation. It may be pointed out that Nagaland inherited Rangapahar Reserve Forest, a vast, rich tract of 8809 hectares of forest from Assam in 1963 but has been “bled” dry by rampant, unchecked logging and encroachment. Today the once rich forest has been reduced to a 300 acre zoo after extinction of many species such as-the long-tailed Macaque, the Sambar, the Spotted Leopard, the majestic Hornbill, and countless other species of flora and fauna. They are only in the memories of elders or the pages of textbooks. Against this backdrop of catastrophic ecological failure, the 77.22 square miles or 49,420.8 acres of Ntangki National Park has long stood as the last bastion, a final repository of the state’s once-legendary biodiversity. Tragically it too has been besieged, with rampant poaching and illegal felling “almost destroying” this precious sanctuary. It is in this dire context that the development on October 17, 2025, need to be understood. The unanimous resolution by 37 villages under the Athibung sub-division to protect the park is not merely a welcome piece of conservation news. It is an act of existential urgency although a bit too late. The General Consultative Meeting at Athibung Town Hall, convened by the Zeliang-Kuki Public Organisation (ZKPO) and attended by a united front of GBs, chairmen, youth, women, and major civil society organisations, is a profound shift. For too long, conservation efforts have been hamstrung as “various tribal villages… continue to fight over their own proclaimed rights,” while the fundamental right of future generations to inherit a living world was forgotten. This resolution signals a vital, perhaps final, decision to choose collective survival over fractured interests. The resolutions included- a total ban on timber logging, fishing, and hunting within the Park, and a prohibition on destructive fishing methods in all rivers under the sub-division. The house resolved to empower each Village Council to “strictly enforce customary laws against violators.” The SDO of the circle rightly urged the organisations to exercise their rights under Article 371(A) to protect their land and people. This is not just another top-down government edict that can be ignored in remote jungles. This is the fusion of state conservation goals with the grassroots authority of customary law. It is an assertion of ownership and a promise of community-led enforcement, the only strategy that has any hope of succeeding where others have failed. The stakes could not be higher. As a conservationist articulated- it is not just an ecological crisis but an identity crisis. The disappearance of species leads to a loss of identity, as Naga culture, traditions, and habits are intrinsically tied to the landscape. When the forest is silent and the rivers are dead, a core part of the culture dies with them. This initiative’s success is far from guaranteed. The source material bluntly reminds us that other villages have issued similar bans in the past with “little impact.” The forces of greed that drive illegal logging and poaching are powerful, entrenched, and often violent. The 37 villages stare at the abyss of a future without wildlife, without forests, and without the cultural heritage that springs from them, and they have decided to fight back. If they succeed, it will mean make a world of difference for the present and future generations.