In the emerald foothills of the Himalayas, an elephant ride through the mist-laden National Reserve Forests of North Bengal is the stuff of dreams for wildlife enthusiasts. Gentle yet majestic, the pachyderms there are the pride of the region, drawing thousands of tourists eager for a glimpse of nature at its most regal. The state forest and tourism departments even encourage elephant safaris, promoting the experience as the crown jewel of Bengal’s eco-tourism.
Yet, in stark contrast, in the forests of South Bengal—stretching across Bankura, Purulia, Jhargram, and West Midnapore—these same giants cast a shadow of fear. Here, the elephant is less a gentle attraction and more a harbinger of destruction. Herds trample standing crops, raid granaries and claim human lives with frightening regularity. For many villagers in Jungle Mahal, the distant trumpet of an elephant at night is not a call of the wild—it is a warning to flee.
The numbers are grim. In 2023, wild elephants killed 24 people across Bengal; in 2024, the toll rose to 13 deaths along with hundreds of acres of crops destroyed. In 2025, the figure climbed to 31 fatalities. Behind these statistics are desperate families and shattered livelihoods.
A habitat crisis
The growing conflict is the result of a fractured ecosystem. Elephants, highly intelligent and bound to ancient migratory routes, have been pushed into human settlements by relentless deforestation, shrinking water sources and rampant encroachment. “As food and water grow scarce in the wild, villages become unintended pit stops—often with deadly consequences, said a forest department official.
Recognising that chasing the animals away is a short-term fix, the West Bengal forest department has launched an ambitious conservation project to create 22 “microhabitats” across South Bengal. Spread through Bankura, Purulia, West Midnapore and Jhargram, these habitats will be planted with elephant favourites—mahua, mango, bel, neem, bamboo, shimul and banana—and will feature large, permanent water bodies.
“We call these ‘microhabitats’,” explained Chief Conservator of Forests S. Kulandivel, adding, “By enriching forests with reliable food and water, elephants will have less reason to stray into human settlements. This is about coexistence, not conflict.”
Seven such elephant-friendly ponds have already been dug in Bankura’s Barjora forest, and early signs are promising: raids into nearby villages have sharply declined.
From crisis to model conservation
The transformation is perhaps most visible in Jhargram, once on the brink of ecological collapse due to illegal logging, political unrest, and neglect. Between 2017 and 2025, the elephant population in the four South Bengal districts grew from 194 to 224, alongside a revival of other wildlife such as Indian wolves, chitals and peacocks. In Bengal, the total elephant count is around 800.
Sustained reforestation has been key. Sal tree density in Jhargram’s forests has surged from a meagre 50–100 per hectare during the unrest years to over 400 per hectare today, with the total sal population surpassing 15 million. “We are not just planting trees, we are rebuilding an ecosystem,” said Jhargram Divisional Forest Officer Umar Imam.
Five new ponds in the Gidhni forest, along with extensive planting of fruit-bearing trees and bamboo, have drawn wildlife back to areas like Nayagram, Belpahari and Shilda. However, with the growing elephant population comes renewed risk. To counter this, the forest department has deployed specialised elephant-driving teams, established awareness camps for villagers, and begun work on dedicated elephant corridors.
A tale of two Bengals
While the elephants of North Bengal ferry tourists through lush national parks, those in South Bengal roam too close to human settlements for comfort. For the traveller, they remain symbols of majesty and serenity; for the farmer, they can be an unstoppable force of nature that turns a year’s harvest into splinters and dust overnight.
As South Bengal races to create habitats that keep elephants in the wild and out of villages, officials see a delicate balance ahead—preserving the allure of the elephant as a tourist treasure, while ending the long, fearful nights for the people who live in their shadow.