ASU Research E-Magazine: Extinction On The Steppes

Back at the dawn of history, in the days when legends were born, a bright rainbow reached out across the heavens over the mountains of central Kazakstan. From this rainbow, legend says, emerged the argali—a bighorn sheep with massive curved horns over five feet long.

The creature descended to Earth to become the keeper of the Sary-Arka, Kazakstan’s yellow mountains. Killing the sacred argali is said to bring grave misfortune to both the hunter and his family.

Legend or no legend, in the late 1990s, killing an argali brings great fortune to particular members of the Kazakstani government. Foreign tourists routinely pay up to $25,000 to hunt a single argali on one of Kazakstan’s many nature reserves, known as zapovedniks.

Income from these hunts is supposed to be funneled into research and conservation efforts that provide protection for the argali and other endangered species. In reality, most of the cash finds its way into the pockets of high-level bureaucrats.

“The poor zapovednik directors and workers are being forced to lead hunting expeditions for rich people flying in from Saudi Arabia, Oman, the United Arab Emirates, and other countries,” says Andrew Smith. “Most of the money is going to graft at the highest levels of government.”

Smith is a professor of biology at Arizona State University. He studies endangered species, including many animals found in Central Asia. “Biologically, this part of the world is fantastically species-rich,” Smith says. It also is in big trouble.

Smith recalls sighting 60 different species of birds in a single day on a northern wetlands zapovednik. But many of the country’s unique species are in danger of extinction. Snow leopards that have roamed the Tian Shan mountains for thousands of years are in trouble. So are the five-foot tall Dalmatian pelicans, and of course, the argali.

“Many of the most endangered creatures do not appear on local lists. That’s because high-level officials can make money on them,” Smith says.

Smith became interested in Kazakstan and the other Central Asian Republics while working as a volunteer for IUCN, the World Conservation Union. He is a member of the group’s Species Survival Commission. The group develops “red lists” of endangered species.

This region of the world is “largely dysfunctional,” yet mostly overlooked, Smith explains. “Someone handles Europe. Someone else handles Asia. The Central Asian Republics just get dropped off the map,” he says.

Smith traveled to Kazakstan in 1998 on a grant from the National Research Council. His goal: to help plan a workshop for listing endangered species on a national level. The workshop would involve representatives from government, non-government organizations, academia, and all five countries of the Central Asian Republics.

If the workshop ever occurs, participants will develop a set of quantitative criteria for determining whether a species is endangered or vulnerable. These criteria, unlike the subjective methods currently used, would lend scientific backing to protective efforts. Although quantitative criteria already exist on a global level, Smith says it is essential for each country to have its own method for listing endangered species.

“The reality is that only countries have the enabling legislation to actually correct for managing endangered species,” he says. Quantitative criteria also would allow local non-government organizations to apply for international funding and get support for their cause. “Right now, local organizations have no legs to stand on.”

But would the Kazakstani government sacrifice its graft income to save endangered animal species?

“Having a list is not necessarily a guarantee that things would get better,” Smith says. “But it could certainly put political heat on those people who are misusing the biological resources.”

To date, however, Smith has not found funding to actually present the workshop, even though the entire event has been planned down to the minute.

“It’s absolutely frustrating,” he laments. “People are reluctant because they know the difficulties inherent to that area of the world.”

Problems in the Central Asian Republics are the moldering fruit of communism and its downfall. ASU graduate student Heather Triplett knows those problems on an up-close-and-personal nature.

Triplett was stationed in a Kazakstani village as a Peace Corps volunteer. She worked as an environmental advisor on a zapovednik. She found that she had to address social, cultural, and economic issues in order to solve ecological problems.

“Many of their management practices are very different from ours,” she says. Most are remnants of life under Soviet control.

For example, during a typical workday, many employees might have put in about two good hours of work. They spent the rest of the day drinking tea and playing cards. Regardless of what they did, they knew they would be paid.

Instead of improving matters, the Soviet breakup brought economic disaster to the Central Asian Republics.

“It’s really hard for them to live,” explains Triplett. “People saved money. Then one day the exchange rate changed and money that was worth $10,000 became worth only $10.” Most people she worked with on the reserve earned only $20 per month.

Triplett spent her first Kazakstani winter in a house without heat, despite the fact that temperatures drop as low as -26 degrees fahrenheit in that area. The owners just couldn’t afford to work the boiler for the radiator. There often was no electricity to run an electric heater.

Economic problems have taken their toll on the village where she lived. The number of suicides increased. Many people deserted families that they could no longer support.

“The people don’t seem to have a purpose. They have no work. They can’t feed their families,” Triplett says.

Encouraged by Smith, Triplett entered ASU’s master of natural sciences program after returning from her Peace Corps stint. Part of her degree program includes work to establish an ecotourism program for the zapovedniks.

Under such a program, tourists would visit a reserve and learn about its wildlife. Each tour group would pay a small fee to the reserve. Triplett says that even $100 per group would make a huge difference to the zapovedniks. The money could be used for research, or to hire guards to protect the wildlife from poachers.

Poachers are a serious threat to many endangered animals, Smith explains. In fact, trade in endangered species is the second largest form of illegal commerce in the world—second only to narcotics.

Unlike licensed hunters on commercial expeditions, poachers pay no attention to the number of animals they kill. And they provide no revenues for research and protection.

Triplett believes that ecotourism will offer a double protection against poaching. Besides allowing the reserves to hire more personnel, it would pump money into the local communities. Tourists pay for food, lodging, and handicrafts. Such income might ease the financial desperation that tempts people to poach.

Community involvement is a central theme for Triplett’s work. She and Smith share a desire to empower communities to help themselves—not to do the work for them.

“In Kazakstan, people don’t believe they can do it themselves,” Triplett says. “Going in and doing the work for them would only perpetuate that belief. It would be just like it was under Soviet rule—they were told what to do, they did it, but they didn’t know why. They need a sense of belonging.”

In his grant proposal, Smith says that he asked for slightly more money than the workshop would actually cost.

“I wanted to make sure we overshot so that we could leave some money behind,” he says. “It’s their only chance to get money. We want to empower them to keep things going once we’re gone.”

“There are very few people in Kazakstan who really think that they themselves can make a difference,” Triplett adds. “But very slowly, some of them are starting to see the light.”—Diane Boudreau