Soldiers go chinkara and hare hunting

Salman Khan revisited: in the latest incident of black buck hunting, it is not Bollywood stars in the thick of the action but soldiers of the Indian army who were chased to the gates of their army camp. But there now seems to be a cover-up in progress, which has enraged the local Bishnois.

By Yatish Yadav

On August 18, day turned to twilight for farmer Arjun Ram of Keru village when he saw an army jeep ferrying soldiers stop in the jungle. The soldiers fired at some chinkara, a local black buck and an endangered species. Arjun Ram ran to intercept the soldiers, who promptly fled, leaving behind one dead chinkara.

Arjun Ram, who belongs to Rajasthan's Bishnoi community that has been widely acknowledged for its dedication towards the preservation of wildlife and forests, and a few other villagers, chased the army jeep (registration number 221) till the gates of the army camp, where they were stopped.

A copy of letter written by prime witness Arjun Ram to the district forest officer—available with Realpolitik—says that the Bishnoi villagers chased the soldiers till the jeep entered the high-security army camp and vanished. The Bishnois have been involved in wildlife protection long before the one incident that defines their cause came to light: Bollywood star Salman Khan's notorious hunting of chinkara. Today, the villagers' methodology has evolved to writing petitions and organising movements to guard the local wildlife. The Bishnoi have their own force, analogous to the government's anti-tiger-poaching forces. Rampal Bhawad, the president of Bishnoi force, asks the government to book the culprits.

In this latest incident, their fame stood the Bishnoi in good stead. Relenting under the community's pressure, local police and forest officials registered a case under the Wildlife (Protection) Act, 972, against the yet-unidentified soldiers and sent off a "request" to the camp in-charge in Jodhpur According to the Wildlife (Protection) Act, 1972, an offence committed in relation to any wild animal, or where the offence relates to hunting, shall be punishable with imprisonment for a term not less than a year and extendable to six years.

With the help of the police, volunteers seized the carcass of a rabbit from the bloodstained hunting site. They brought army officials to the spot in order to catalyse action against the hunters. In this particular case, while no chinkara's body was found, blood samples collected from the spot have been sent for identification. Long after the animal was killed, the local forensic lab is still waiting for the anti-serum. Says K S Bhati, ACF Jodhpur, "We haven't got the anti-serum, so we have no statements to make." This is the kind of unconscionable delay that unravels open-and-shut cases.
In Keru, the Bishnoi's are tensely waiting for the culprits to be punished. Says Rampal Bhawad, "The whole administration is joining hands to throw this sensitive case away, as the army is directly involved. Even the forest officials are coming out with different versions every day."

The photograph of the dead rabbit clearly shows a gunshot wound, but the medical report says that the animal was "hit by some blunt object". Forest officials say that 10 ribs cannot be broken by a gunshot-their conclusion is that the rabbit was mauled by dogs.

But Sawai Singh, additional superintendent of police, Jodhpur, who reached the spot immediately after the incident, told Realpolitik that it was clear that the rabbit was shot and that there was no evidence of a canine attack.

Says Lt Col R K Palta, defence spokesperson in Jodhpur, "The army is willing to inquire into the incident and will book the culprit. A departmental inquiry has also being ordered by the army to ascertain the facts of the incident."

Keeping the furore over Salman Khan's case in mind, it might be difficult for the army to wash its hands off an incident that involves virtually no hunting skills but plenty of bloodthirstiness. Wildlife experts say that killing a chinkara is a fairly effortless task, and certainly no indication of machismo, and a few moments of fun might end with the soldiers doing years of jail time.

Rare and protected species are routinely hunted in and around almost every sanctuary, national park or protected area by rich and powerful people or by poachers who rely on political benefaction to get away. Most forest departments around the country are handicapped by administrative interference in the wildlife protection laws.

In this dismal scenario, the Bishnoi community stands out for its unrelenting involvement. Says a resident of Keru village, "Chinkaras sometimes eat half our standing crop, but we don't chase them away." Every Bishnoi family in the region has dug a tank in its field to provide water to the black buck.

"Animals are our god," says Tika Ram of Dhandhi village. "Before our guru, Jambaji, passed away, he told us that in his absence, all the animals should be regarded as his incarnation."

"For us, hunting a wildlife species is like killing our guru," says Rampal Bhavad, insisting that the soldiers should be handed down punishment equal to Salman Khan's. "They should not be allowed to walk free after killing our god."

Kishor Bishnoi told Realpolitik said that government wants to paper over the incident. "We Bishnoi's have a saying: Sar santhe rooke rahe to bhi sasto jaan (If a tree is saved from felling at the cost of one's head, it should be considered as a good deed). Saving rare species is our utmost priority, our sacred job."

The problem is that the forest officer has disappeared behind the closed doors of the bureaucracy.