Nagaland today stands at the centre of multiple high value conservation initiatives. The JICA supported Nagaland Forest Management Project, the World Bank funded ELEMENT program and the ongoing Forest and Biodiversity Management in the Himalaya Project together represent investments running into hundreds of crores. The stated objectives are compelling. Restore degraded forests, strengthen ecosystems, enhance climate resilience and secure rural livelihoods.
The problems these projects aim to address are real and pressing concerns. Forest degradation, erratic rainfall, drying water sources, human-wildlife conflict and pressures arising from land-use practices are not abstract concerns. They are visible across districts and directly affect communities whose lives depend on natural resources. In that sense, the rationale for seeking and receiving conservation funding is valid. No one disputes the urgency.
On paper, the scope is impressive. Thousands of hectares are targeted for restoration. Hundreds of villages are covered. Micro plans, landscape plans and biodiversity registers have been prepared. Livelihood activities ranging from apiculture to plantation crops have been rolled out. However, the deeper concern lies elsewhere. It is about credibility and outcomes.
Nagaland’s experience with large government projects has not always inspired confidence. There are instances of meaningful impact, but they are few and far between. Many programs across sectors have faltered at the stage of implementation, monitoring or long term sustainability. Projects often begin with ambition and substantial budgets, yet fade without delivering structural change. This history inevitably shapes public perception. While reports highlight activities undertaken and funds utilized, measurable ecological recovery on the ground is less clearly communicated to the public.
In such a context, it is reasonable to ask whether conservation funds are being pursued primarily to achieve measurable ecological recovery, or simply because funding opportunities exist. If the focus shifts from outcomes to expenditure, conservation becomes a project driven exercise defined by expenditure cycles and donor reporting frameworks with little or no visible and lasting gains on the ground.
Conservation cannot be measured by the number of workshops conducted, plans prepared or funds utilized. It must be assessed through regenerated forest cover, stabilized wildlife habitats, improved water security and genuinely durable and diversified rural incomes. These are tangible indicators that communities can see and evaluate.
Transparency therefore becomes central. If intent is genuine, transparency should not be difficult. Baseline data, independent monitoring and publicly accessible progress reports must become standard practice. Outcomes must justify the scale of investment. Conservation is indeed big money. That makes accountability even bigger.