Weavers in India Deplete an Endangered Species

NEW DELHI, India —  It lacks the allure of fur and looks downright plain to the unpracticed eye, but wealthy buyers know a shahtoosh shawl is a royal wrap.

And Indian environmentalists know even one means the death of at least three endangered antelopes. They call it a national disgrace.

“It shocks and upsets me that in a country where nature is worshiped, a socialite will arrive at a party practically wearing three or more dead animals on her person,” says Iqbal Malik, a noted environmentalist.

Six centuries of tradition dictate that the finest shahtoosh shawls are woven in the Indian hill city of Srinagar. The wool comes from the chiru, an endangered antelope species that wanders in the icy heights of Tibet.

The World Wildlife Fund estimates 18,000 chirus are killed every year to meet the demand for shahtoosh shawls, which can cost hundreds of dollars.

Shahtoosh, which means “king of wools” in Persian, is considered ounce for ounce the warmest natural fiber in the world. The shawls are renowned for providing enveloping warmth while being thin enough to be pulled through a finger ring.

The chiru grows its coveted wool to protect itself from the harsh climate of Tibet’s Changtang Valley, which is above the tree and bush line and buffeted by high winds throughout the day.

Each year Indian traders illicitly exchange the skin, nails and bones of endangered tigers for shahtoosh supplied by Tibetans. Tiger parts are highly valued in China, where they are considered to have healing properties. India is home to some of the world’s last remaining 3,000 tigers.

Trade in both tiger parts and chiru wool is banned, but enforcing the law has proved difficult. Traders with goods packed on yaks and mules sneak across the long and inhospitable Indo-Tibetan border unchecked.

Shahtoosh shawls often form part of a wealthy bride’s trousseau in northern India. Others find their way overseas despite the trade ban.

Malik, the environmentalist, says border officials are poorly trained.

The shawls are striking only to the discerning eye. All are plain gray, because the wool is too fine to be dyed or covered with the rich embroidery often stitched on less pricey shawls.

“It is just a neo-rich status symbol,” Malik says.

With a little research and resourcefulness, a shopper can find the shawls in New Delhi. Prices can be as steep as 50,000 to 60,000 rupees ($1,400-$1,700), and a shawl smuggled overseas goes for double that.

A single antelope yields only about 5 1/4 ounces of wool and a single shawl requires about 12 ounces, meaning three chirus must be killed for every shawl.

Shahtoosh weavers claim they do not kill chirus, but rather collect the wool left behind by the animals on shrubs and bushes in shedding their winter coats.

A 1993 World Wildlife Fund study said that claim is baseless.

“Shahtoosh wool cannot be collected from bushes as the area where the chiru grazes is bereft of bushes and shrubs,” said Ranjit Talwar, a member of the group’s investigating team.

The inhospitable terrain makes keeping count of chirus difficult, but their numbers are believed to be steadily falling.

Both Malik and Talwar believe an alternative fiber might save the chiru.

The wool of the llama-like vicuna, which has been farmed in South America, closely resembles shahtoosh. Talwar suggests it be imported to meet the demands of shahtoosh weavers.