SCIENCE sciencemag.org 15 FEBRUARY 2019 • VOL 363 ISSUE 6428 699PHOTO: MARION KAPLAN/ALAMY STOCK PHOTO
I
n war zones—where daily life holds exis-
tential threats, where people are strafed
and hardened by conflict, where securing
food and safety is an ever-present prior-
ity—why should people care about the
elusive beauty of the snow leopard, the
hoary majesty of the markhor goat, or the
fantastically adorned Marco Polo
sheep? Alex Dehgan tackles this
question in his insightful and eye-
opening book, The Snow Leopard
Project, a narrative of his experi-
ences establishing an outpost of
the Wildlife Conservation Society
(WCS)—one of the leading conser-
vation organizations in the United
States—in Afghanistan in 2006.
From the outset, Dehgan and
his colleagues grappled with un-
predictable situations and jaw-
dropping logistic and security
challenges: from dodging IEDs (improvised
explosive devices) to adjusting camera trap
schedules to accommodate U.S. bombing
campaigns. What appears to have been the
biggest challenge, however, was navigat-
ing the priorities and processes of the U.S.WILDLIFE CONSERVATIONAfghanistan’s rich natural heritage shines in an insider’s
account of the foundings of its first national parks
By Rosie Cooney^1 and Khalil Karimov^2Conservation and confl ict
Agency for International Development, the
project’s major financial backer.
Central Asia, for most readers, is likely to
be a black zone on the map—a geographi-
cal lacuna that may, if anything, conjure the
Silk Road, Alexander the Great, brutal con-
flicts, or post-Communist corruption. Yet, as
Dehgan highlights, this area is rich, diverse,
and valuable in both cultural and biological
terms. Peoples have moved and
settled across the region over mil-
lennia, making a complex cultural
mosaic. And the mountain ranges
around the north of Afghanistan
and its bordering countries repre-
sent the convergence zone of the
Afrotropic, Indomalayan, and Pa-
leoarctic faunas, making for a dis-
tinct and rich wildlife assemblage.
Dehgan’s writing is filled with
love and respect and an interest
in Afghanistan and the broader
region—people as well as wild-
life. The book is filled with characters, Af-
ghans and expats, drawn with affection and
detail. An opening anecdote about bird-
watching with a member of the Taliban il-
lustrates neatly his ability to build personal
bonds in support of conservation.
There are themes here that resonate deeply
with conservation efforts worldwide. It is im-
portant, for example, to gain the support of
local people and to build effective governance
structures for protected areas that give thesepeople a voice and ensure that they gain tan-
gible benefits from conservation efforts. The
political challenges of mobilizing cooperation
between states in conflict, in which wild spe-
cies and landscapes rank at the bottom of a
long list of priorities, will likewise be familiar
to conservationists in other regions.
Despite this region’s challenges—the land
mines, the devastated infrastructure, the
shattered society, the yawning chasms of
governance—this is a book with a message of
hope. Dehgan found enthusiasm and support
for wildlife conservation among the people of
Afghanistan at all levels, from political lead-
ers to ordinary rural people. He attributes
this to a desire to reestablish the country’s
identity after decades of war and displace-
ment. The species that will benefit from these
efforts—the urial, the golden jackal, the musk
deer, and the eponymous snow leopard, for
example—are an integral part of the coun-
try’s natural heritage, deeply interwoven with
their culture (the vast majority of Afghans
are directly dependent on natural resources).
Wildlife recovery reflects the potential for re-
bounding national identity and pride.
This is indeed a story of success (albeit
partial and hard-won). WCS’s work helped
Afghanistan establish its first two national
parks: Band-e-Amir, in the central highlands,
in 2009, and Wakhan, in the high and remote
northeast, in 2014. Although ecotourism in
Afghanistan may seem a hard sell, domestic
and international interest is growing; the
parks have been developing infrastructure
and training to accommodate tourists, and
local benefits have started to flow. Dehgan
notes that in 2017, 189,000 people (mainly Af-
ghan nationals) visited Band-e-Amir.
The Snow Leopard Project is not without
flaws. It is somewhat weak in narrative ten-
sion; Dehgan’s account is essentially a collec-
tion of anecdotes loosely held together with
personal reflections. We never learn enough
about the writer himself to be caught up in
a compelling overarching story, and the book
abruptly ends with his resignation from the
WCS, with little insight into the precipitating
dynamics or his feelings on the matter.
Overall, however, the book abundantly suc-
ceeds in highlighting the stark and surprising
challenges faced by those engaged in conser-
vation in war zones and in shining a light on
the rich cultural and biological diversity of
Afghanistan. The country (aided by WCS and
others) has taken the first steps toward re-
covering its wildlife and related cultures and
livelihoods; with additional support from the
global community—including tourists and
donors—great things are possible. j
10.1126/science.aaw6825Band-e Amir’s six sapphire-blue lakes became
Afghanistan’s first national park in 2009.(^1) Fenner School of Environment and Society, Australian
National University, Canberra, ACT 2601, Australia.^2 Regional
chair (Central Asia), International Union for Conservation
of Nature Sustainable Use and Livelihoods Specialist Group,
Gland, Switzerland. Email: [email protected]
The Snow
Leopard Project
Alex Dehgan
PublicAf airs, 2019.
288 pp.
BOOKS et al.
Published by AAAS
on February 14, 2019^
http://science.sciencemag.org/
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