Systemic inequities fuel human-wildlife coexistence crises: How colonial land grabs and extractive economies displace marginalized communities

Indigenous communities worldwide have sustained coexistence with wildlife for millennia through land stewardship practices that recognize non-human agency, such as sacred groves, rotational hunting, and taboo systems. These systems are often erased by conservation policies that impose Western scientific frameworks, treating Indigenous knowledge as 'superstition' rather than a tested alternative to extractive land use. The erasure of these practices deepens ecological and social crises, as seen in the Amazon where Indigenous territories store more carbon than protected areas. Yet, Indigenous land defenders are systematically criminalized for resisting dispossession in the name of conservation.

The 'human-wildlife conflict' narrative echoes colonial-era justifications for land seizure, such as the 'beast of burden' rhetoric used to dehumanize enslaved people and Indigenous groups. Protected areas, a cornerstone of modern conservation, were often carved out of Indigenous lands without consent, replicating the violence of enclosure movements in Europe. Historical case studies, like the creation of Yellowstone National Park (1872) or India's Project Tiger (1973), show how conservation has repeatedly displaced marginalized communities under the guise of 'saving nature.' These patterns persist today in the guise of '30x30' biodiversity targets.

Cross-culturally, coexistence is often framed as a matter of reciprocity rather than control; for example, the Māori concept of kaitiakitanga (guardianship) emphasizes responsibility to non-human kin, while Andean communities practice ayni (reciprocal labor) to balance human and ecological needs. In contrast, Western conservation often treats wildlife as a 'resource' to be managed, ignoring Indigenous epistemologies that see animals as subjects with rights. These differences reveal how conservation paradigms are not neutral but reflect cultural power imbalances, with Western models dominating global policy despite their poor track record in preventing biodiversity loss.

Scientific evidence increasingly supports Indigenous-led conservation, with studies showing that Indigenous-managed lands have higher biodiversity and lower deforestation rates than state-protected areas. Research also highlights how habitat fragmentation from industrial agriculture and infrastructure is a primary driver of 'human-wildlife conflict,' contradicting narratives that blame local communities. Yet, conservation science often prioritizes Western methodologies (e.g., camera traps, GPS tracking) over Indigenous observation systems, which are dismissed as 'anecdotal.' This bias undermines the integration of local knowledge into conservation planning.

Artistic and spiritual traditions across cultures depict humans and wildlife as interconnected, from the Hindu reverence for cows to the Buddhist principle of ahimsa (non-violence toward all beings). Indigenous oral traditions, such as the Aboriginal Australian Dreamtime stories, frame coexistence as a sacred duty, while African proverbs like 'Until the lion learns to write, every story will glorify the hunter' critique dominant narratives. These perspectives challenge the commodification of nature in Western conservation, offering alternative frameworks that prioritize relational ethics over economic valuation.

Future scenarios must center land restitution and Indigenous sovereignty to reverse biodiversity loss, as models show that Indigenous territories cover 37% of Earth's land but protect 80% of biodiversity. Climate change will exacerbate 'conflict' by shrinking habitats, making adaptive, community-led governance essential; for example, Kenya's conservancies that integrate Maasai pastoralism with wildlife corridors. Without addressing structural inequities, conservation efforts will continue to fail, as seen in the rise of 'fortress conservation' backlash in countries like India and Tanzania. Technocratic solutions (e.g., drones, fences) are Band-Aids that ignore systemic drivers.

Marginalized communities—Indigenous peoples, peasants, Dalits, and pastoralists—are the most affected by 'human-wildlife conflict' but least represented in policy debates, which are dominated by conservation elites and state actors. Their knowledge systems are systematically excluded from conservation planning, despite evidence that they hold solutions to coexistence. For example, the Chipko Movement in India (1970s) resisted deforestation by embracing trees as kin, a model that contrasts with top-down afforestation projects. Amplifying these voices requires dismantling the power structures that privilege Western science and corporate interests in conservation governance.