Bayarjargal Agvaantseren roused local communities and politicians to prevent mines destroying the magnificent mountain cat’s habitat
Her work saw the creation of a 1.8-million-acre natural park, home to a population of snow leopards that is the world’s second largest after China

There are fewer than 7,000 snow leopards in the wild today, and those numbers are decreasing, according to the likes of global conservation body WWF. Photo: ShutterstockThere are fewer than 7,000 snow leopards in the wild today, and those numbers are decreasing, according to the likes of global conservation body WWF. Photo: Shutterstock
There are fewer than 7,000 snow leopards in the wild today, and those numbers are decreasing, according to the likes of global conservation body WWF. Photo: Shutterstock
The fight to save snow leopards in Mongolia was never going to be easy – not when it involved taking on mining companies, the backbone of the country’s most powerful industry. It was a long road, one that saw a suspicious death, efforts to convince rural communities that the snow leopard was not their enemy, and the creation of a massive new national park, but Bayarjargal Agvaantseren got there in the end.
The snow leopard is as renowned for its beauty as for its scarcity. It lives at altitudes of more than 10,000 feet, and has evolved to camouflage itself in the snowy landscapes in which it makes its home – but the outlook for the magnificent mountain cat is grim. Habitat fragmentation, poaching, retaliatory killings by farmers who have lost livestock, and the current climate crisis – which could result in a loss of up to 30 per cent of the snow leopard’s habitat in the Himalayas alone – are threatening its survival.

Today, there are fewer than 7,000 snow leopards in the wild; according to the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN), which considers it a vulnerable species, the population of mature animals is estimated to be less than 3,400. The IUCN and the global conservation body WWF both believe those numbers are decreasing.
At the beginning we didn’t know what to do, because people were worried about the economy and nobody cared about snow leopards

Mongolia is home to some 1,000 snow leopards, the second-largest population after China – but the country’s booming mining industry is a grave threat to their habitat. Thanks to the efforts of Agvaantseren, however, the government created the 1.8 million-acre Tost Tosonbumba Nature Reserve in April 2016 – the culmination of her seven-year fight against the influential sector.
“We learned in 2009 that the entire Tost Tosonbumba mountain range was being given away to the mining industry, which was quite shocking news to us because South Gobi is the region where 20 per cent to 25 per cent of all Mongolian snow leopards live,” says Agvaantseren, executive director of the Snow Leopard Conservation Foundation and Mongolia Programme Director at the United States-based Snow Leopard Trust. “It was not easy,” recalls the 50-year-old. “In the beginning we didn’t know what to do, because people were worried about the economy and nobody cared about snow leopards.”

At the end of the 2000s, mining was regarded as Mongolia’s economic saviour, and the government started to give prospecting and extraction licences to companies from all over the world. It worked a treat; in 2011, the country’s economy completed a remarkable turnaround, recording the highest GDP growth in the world at an astonishing 17.3 per cent.
The price of this, however, was the 37 exploratory licences granted to exploit natural resources in the Tost mountains, which Agvaantseren worried could be the final nail in the snow leopard’s coffin.
Mongolia’s toxic air tears families apart as children are evacuated
“A study had just showed that the area was one of the most important for the species, because it had the highest concentration of snow leopards in the world, and it’s located between the Great Gobi National Park and the Gobi Gurvansaikhan National Park, becoming a corridor linking both,” she says. “So we thought it was time to do something about it.”
Agvaantseren knew the road ahead would be challenging, not just over mining’s economic importance but because it takes a parliamentary majority to secure a national park designation. But she did not shy away from the conflict.
“In the beginning, we thought local protection would be enough. But we were wrong,” Agvaantseren says. “The mining companies were not going to give up, and corruption was rife among local politicians, so licences were granted even though communities were not giving their approval as required by the law. We had no choice but to give the national level a shot.
“We were committed to do all it takes.”
First, however, Agvaantseren had to get the local people on board. The mining companies’ plans would also mean a notable degradation of pastureland for the 200 nomadic herder families in the area. Although some had been promised better-paying jobs in the mines and had hopes for the region’s development, she received unconditional support from the community.
“They understood this was also a fight to protect their land and lifestyle, and many were also aware that the mines already in operation close to the border with China didn’t fulfil people’s expectations,” Agvaantseren explains. “Even the local governors acknowledged that even if they encouraged mining companies to hire local people, the lack of skills would make that unfeasible. So they would end up bringing in Chinese labour.”

Politicians were not so easy to convince, however. Lobbying legislators for support took time, and while the mining companies were willing to come to the table for discussions, tragedy would soon strike.
People suspected that mining companies were behind his sudden death. We realised we should continue fighting as a tribute to Sumbee

Agvaantseren is not keen to talk about it, but on November 11, 2015, a young colleague of hers, Lkhagvasumberel Tumursukh – also known as Sumbee – was found dead in Lake Khovsgol, almost 2,000km from where he was supposed to be, in Gobi. The autopsy showed he had drowned and the police ruled it a suicide, but few believe this to be the truth. “It was shocking for us. People suspected that mining companies were behind his sudden death. We realised we should continue fighting as a tribute to Sumbee,” Agvaantseren said at the time.

The Snow Leopard Conservation Foundation helped draft the petition and launched a media campaign to gather more support, both among the country’s upper echelon of power and at the grass roots level.
“I think this was also a victory for Mongolian women, because we were the most involved,” says Agvaantseren, with pride. “We finally got the national park approved in 2016, but it wasn’t until July 2018 that all mining licences were revoked,” says the activist, who won the Goldman Environmental Prize this year for her conservation work. As a result of her efforts, the government has cancelled all 37 mining licences within the Tost Tosonbumba Nature Reserve, and all mining operations there are illegal.
Mongolian herders moved to the capital city but now intense pollution is forcing to reconsider
When Agvaantseren spent 1998 working as a language teacher in the Mongolian city of Erdenet, little did she know her life would soon be forever changed. “On a summer break, I had the opportunity to do some translation work for a snow leopard biologist in Gobi-Altai [province], and that’s how I learned what the situation of the species was,” Agvaantseren says. Inspired, she decided to act before it was too late.
From the beginning, Agvaantseren was certain nothing would change for good if the local community wasn’t committed and the human-wildlife conflict wasn’t properly addressed.
“The first thing I did was to set up a programme called Snow Leopard Enterprises. It offered income-generation opportunities for rural herders who share the mountains with snow leopards. This has been running for two decades now, and it has been successful in linking the production of handicrafts with conservation,” she says.

“Rural communities sign a conservation contract with us and also with the national parks. It’s a commitment to stay away from poaching and from retaliatory killing. In return, they can sell handicrafts to us and, if they keep their promise and harm no animal, they receive a bonus at the end of the year on top of that income.”
The Snow Leopard Conservation Foundation buys the merchandise – mostly Mongolian-themed handicrafts made of sheep and camel wool – directly from these communities, and distributes them at various outlets for tourists across the country. Because Mongolia receives too few visitors to make this business sustainable on its own, the Snow Leopard Trust imports items to the US and markets them at zoos that have snow leopards in captivity, and at pet shops.
But when a herder killed one of the cats in her study, claiming it had killed 26 of his goats, Agvaantseren decided to meet the community to discuss how to prevent these retaliatory killings. “They told us that the damage snow leopards induce in their economy was huge and that they needed proper compensation. They didn’t care that snow leopards are protected under the Mongolian law, because there is no compensation scheme and staying put could mean going hungry.”
To address the issue, in 2009 the foundation looked to India and adopted a version of its livestock insurance programme. It has not looked back since.

“Once local people’s losses were compensated, their attitude changed. They stopped seeing the snow leopard as an enemy,” says Agvaantseren, who has also been awarded such distinctions as the 2009 Rabinovitz-Kaplan Prize for the Next Generation, Mongolia’s Leading Environmental Worker in 2010 and the 2017 Polar Star medal.
Her work has not just made snow leopards safer, it has also helped their prey – including ibex and gazelles – flourish. However, Agvaantseren criticises the IUCN’s decision to downgrade the snow leopard’s status from endangered to vulnerable. “It’s a controversial move because researchers believe there is no ground for it. The population is already very small and it’s still decreasing,” she says.
Agvaantseren believes her work is not over. “The park is brand new, so we still need to work on its management. This is just another beginning. My goal is to make a national park system run by local people.”
She points out that snow leopards are still under serious threat, especially from China. “They are very precious for their bones because they are turned into traditional medicine. Leopard skin rugs are also very expensive and used by some Chinese as a symbol of status. Even keeping them as pets is now fashionable! So poaching and illegal trade are still a concern.”
Interestingly, she has never seen a snow leopard in the wild. “But I’ve been close – always arriving at the place of a sighting one day ahead or after,” she says, with a shrug and a smile.

Published Date:2019-06-23