Before environmentalism had a name, it had martyrs. ‘Bishnois and the Blackbuck: Can Dharma Save the Environment?’ by Anu Lall, tells the remarkable story of a community that turned faith into the world’s longest-running conservation practice.
The book comes at a time of growing concern over climate change and environmental degradation, offering a powerful reminder that environmental protection has long been a lived practice in India. Opening with the famous blackbuck poaching case, it explores why the Bishnois stood firm against power and celebrity for the life of a wild animal.
It traces their legacy from the historic Khejarli Massacre of 1730, where 363 men, women, and children sacrificed their lives to save trees, to contemporary legal battles fought to protect wildlife.
Drawing on history, religion, ecology, and law, the book questions the over-reliance on Western models of conservation. It highlights how forests and nature have been regarded as sacred in India since the times of the Ramayan and the Mahabharata and makes a strong case for a Dharma-based approach to environmental protection that remains highly relevant today.
Bishnois and the Blackbuck is essential reading for anyone interested in the environment, sustainability, indigenous knowledge, and India’s civilisational approach to conservation.
Blending ecology, faith, and law, ‘Bishnois and the Blackbuck’ challenges dominant Western conservation models with a bold assertion: the future of environmental protection may lie in ancient, indigenous wisdom.
Anu Lall holds a master’s in business administration (MBA) from XLRI Jamshedpur and a bachelor of law (LLB) from Delhi University. She has had a career in the pharmaceutical and technology industries, working in India, the US, Europe and Singapore, spanning twenty-five years.
A trained yoga and pranayama teacher, Anu’s immensely viral videos about current issues, dharma and law resonate with audiences across the world and are widely shared across platforms. She is a popular face on television debates and a prolific writer for leading newspapers and magazines.
In order to know more about Anu’s latest release, Sonakshi Datta of GoaChronicle posed a few questions to her.
What ancient Indian wisdom holds the key to environmental protection and sustainability? How does it remain relevant in the modern times to combat modern environmental issues?
Ancient Indian wisdom offers a very powerful perspective on environmental protection because it sees humans and nature as deeply connected. In Dharma texts, Prakriti, nature, is not something separate from us or meant only for exploitation; it is sacred and divine.
A beautiful example of this is the Bhumi Suktam from the Atharva Veda, which describes the Earth as our mother and talks of a respectful relationship between humans and the environment. Another important idea is the philosophy of the Panch Mahabhuta, the five elements: earth, water, fire, air, and space. The same elements make up the universe as well as the human body. Whatever we do to the environment ultimately affects us as well, our minds and bodies.
In today’s world, environmental challenges are growing. This Dharmic understanding of our connection with nature becomes extremely relevant. Ultimately, protecting the environment is more than policies or technology. It is about creating a deeper connection between the self and the environment. Rebuilding that relationship is one of the most important steps toward true sustainability.
When we talk of taking a stand for the environment, the Bishnoi community always finds honourable mention; how would you describe their sacrifices for protecting our natural environment, made throughout history?
When I first read of the sacrifices, it blew me away. And I am surprised this history is not mainstream. A few of us now know the 363 martyrs of the Khejarali massacre. Efforts have been made to put this episode in textbooks after so many years. There is yet another kind of martyrdom that happens in the Bishnoi lands. People give up their lives saving animals and fighting poachers. The community calls them ‘shaheeds’. I met families of many shaheeds, or martyrs, who have sacrificed their lives for animals and trees. They wear martyrdom like a badge of honour. Some were killed with bullets, some died in fistfights, others fought with bare hands. India has awarded a few martyrs posthumously, but not all.
We don’t even have a complete list of all the martyrs. Some are quietly buried in the sand; some have little memorials for them in villages. We don’t have a nationwide platform to honour them. I have been saying this on one very platform: that we need a nationwide roll of honour for those who died defending the environment. The Bishnoi community will shine as an example there.
Where do you think dominant western conservation models lag behind, and why do you think these loopholes still exist?
Modern climate conservation is largely driven by metrics—carbon footprints, ESG targets, compliance frameworks, and policy benchmarks. Measurement is important, and laws certainly matter. But numbers alone rarely change human behaviour. What many dominant Western conservation models overlook is something deeper: the power of the dharma and the divine. When environmental protection is framed only as policy or compliance, it remains external to people’s lives. But when it is rooted in dharma, faith, and moral duty, it becomes internalised.
The Bishnois do not protect trees and wildlife because a metric tells them to; they do it because they believe it is their sacred responsibility. Real behavioural change comes not just from regulation, but from a larger ethical and cultural framework that makes protecting nature a way of life.
Why is it crucial to revisit the 1730 Khejarli Massacre? Why do you think it is not talked about in mainstream environmental discourse?
It is frankly unfortunate that sacrifices of such immense moral stature have remained at the margins of mainstream narratives. Long before the term ‘ecofeminism’ entered academic discourse in the West, India had living examples of it. Both the Khejarli sacrifice of 1730, where Amrita Devi Bishnoi led a movement, and the Chipko movement were powerful demonstrations of women-led environmental action.
Yet we rarely frame these stories in our own intellectual language. We often borrow frameworks from the West to explain what our own traditions already embody. In many Western accounts of the Bishnois, their conservation efforts are described as “community activism” or “grassroots environmentalism”, but the deeper truth is often missed: their commitment to protecting trees and wildlife is rooted in dharma.
I think we Indians don’t know how to tell our own stories. We don’t know how to set the narrative. We are defensive and play on the back foot. Perhaps this hesitation to tell our stories fully is a lingering effect of colonial history, which made us second-guess our own knowledge systems. But if we are to understand India’s environmental legacy honestly, we must learn to tell these stories in their complete civilisational context.
What makes ‘Bishnois and the Blackbuck: Can Dharma Save the Environment?’ a must-read for people from all walks of life?
Bishnois and the Blackbuck: Can Dharma Save the Environment? is not just a book about one community; it is a powerful reminder that solutions to the environmental crisis may lie in wisdom we have overlooked. At a time when the world is searching for new models of sustainability, the Bishnoi tradition shows how faith, ethics, and everyday practice can create a culture of conservation that lasts for centuries.
It asks a larger question that concerns all of us: can a value system rooted in dharma inspire a more sustainable way of living?
For readers from any background, the story is both inspiring and urgent. For policymakers, we need an urgent framework rooted in our civilisational ethos. The book challenges us to rethink our relationship with nature and shows that environmental protection is not only a scientific or political issue; it is also a moral and civilisational one.
