The decline of India’s pollinators like bees and butterflies threatens biodiversity, and our food system. On World Environment Day, a closer look at the tiny workers holding up our ecosystems
In 2017, a field study in Odisha’s Koraput and Rayagada districts made headlines for a solemn reason. Researchers observing five native bee species found that four had declined in numbers by up to 90 per cent over just a few decades. These are the bees that kept the orchards blooming, the vegetables coming, and the food chain running. The study, published in Biological Conservation, warned that if left unchecked, this downward spiral could have devastating consequences on agriculture, particularly in smallholder-dominated regions where crops like mustard, brinjal, and cucumbers depend heavily on insect pollination.
The findings echoed what many farmers had already sensed. Many such farmers in Rajasthan, for instance, will tell you that they used to see bees everywhere when the mustard bloomed, but now, there are fewer, and they have had to hand-pollinate with a brush some seasons. This isn’t an isolated story. From Assam’s tea gardens to Himachal’s apple orchards, anecdotal evidence is piling up: flowering cycles continue, but the pollinators like bees and butterflies don’t arrive in the numbers they used to. Apple yields in the Himalayan foothills have dropped even when blossoms seem full, which hints at invisible gaps in the reproduction cycle.
Pollination, a vital ecological process, not just ensures the reproduction of flowering plants and the production of fruits and seeds, but also directly influences global food security and biodiversity. While countries in the West have recognised the significance of pollinators and have invested extensively in research and conservation efforts, India’s contribution to global pollination research remains disproportionately low, accounting for only about 5 per cent despite its rich biodiversity.
Also read: Come winter, Kashmir beekeepers, with all apiary, move to Rajasthan
This is concerning, especially given that approximately 75 per cent of the world’s flowering plants and 35 per cent of global crop production depend on animal pollinators. Since India lacks a comprehensive national pollinator monitoring programme — something countries like the UK and Germany already have — the full extent of their decline remains under-documented. What’s visible, though, is the result: reduced crop yields, higher costs due to manual pollination, and ecosystems falling apart.
Where have all the bees, butterflies gone?
India boasts of remarkable pollinator diversity; where bees and butterflies buzz and flutter across a mosaic of ecosystems: Himalayan meadows, Western Ghats forests, dry scrublands, farms, and even some cities. They work silently to sustain crops and flora. India hosts more than 800 native bee species, many of them solitary, non-stinging, and ground-dwelling. These include carpenter bees (Xylocopa), known for pollinating brinjal and tomatoes, and stingless bees (Tetragonula), key players in cashew and spice pollination in Kerala.
Paris Peacock (Papilio Paris) are found in the Northeast.
The Indian honeybee (Apis cerana indica) is widely kept for honey and pollination. The Rock Bee (Apis dorsata) nests high on cliffs and trees, foraging over long distances. The Little Bee (Apis florea) resides in hedges and under eaves, while the stingless Dammer Bees (Trigona, Melipona) live in tree hollows and walls, valued for medicinal honey. Solitary bees like carpenter, leafcutter, digger, and sweat bees dwell in soil or wood and pollinate wild plants and niche crops, often overlooked but essential.
India also hosts nearly 1,800 butterfly species, from the elusive Kaiser-i-Hind (Teinopalpus imperialis) in the Eastern Himalayas to the Southern Birdwing (Troides minos) in the Western Ghats. Species like the Crimson Rose, Common Mormon, the Emigrant, the Peacock, Jezebel, Painted Lady, Pansy, the Blue Tiger and the Blue Mormon appear across gardens, forests, and farms. Some, like the Malabar Tree Nymph, are habitat-specific, while others migrate with the monsoon or adapt to garden flowers.
These bees and butterflies support crops like mango, chilli, apple, brinjal, coriander, and almonds. But India’s conservation efforts focus largely on managed honeybees, neglecting wild pollinators. In a hilly state like Uttarakhand, these butterfly species help sustain forest ecosystems by pollinating wildflowers, which in turn support birds and insects. As monocultures of pine replace biodiverse oak and rhododendron forests, butterfly species vanish. The entire food web begins to wobble.
Similarly, if you ask any older gardener or environmentalist in Bengaluru, they’ll tell you how butterflies used to come in hordes — yellow, blue, and orange creatures dancing in the air. These days, the skies feel emptier. Butterflies, the symbols of a healthy ecosystem, are retreating. Species like the Common Jezebel, the Lemon Pansy, and even Maharashtra’s state butterfly — the shimmering Blue Mormon — are being seen less and less. Studies by the Bombay Natural History Society have tracked their steady disappearance from once-rich habitats, a tragedy unfolding in plain sight. Pesticides are part of the problem, but so is the vanishing of wild plants they depend on to breed and feed. Without the right flowers, butterflies can’t lay eggs.
The Indian honeybee — long kept in bamboo hives and celebrated in folklore — is struggling to survive in pesticide-sprayed fields. Endemic butterflies like the Malabar Banded Peacock and Himalayan Apollo are disappearing before younger generations can even learn their names. We risk losing them not just from the land, but from memory. This is not just a loss of insects — it’s a loss of colour, of rhythm, of connection. Of the lives around us that make human life possible. Interestingly, since 2017, Kerala has spearheaded innovative efforts to bolster pollination through stingless bees, particularly Tetragonula iridipennis.
Common Jezebel (Delias Eucharis)
A notable initiative is the Indo-Australian collaborative research project involving Western Sydney University, the Indian Council of Agricultural Research (ICAR), and Kerala Agricultural University (KAU). This $7 million project aims to enhance fruit and vegetable yields by utilising stingless bees, which are adept at pollinating smaller flowers. KAU’s studies have indicated a 20–25 per cent increase in yields for crops like cucumber and bitter gourd when pollinated by these bees. Kerala was chosen for this project due to its active stingless beekeeping community, comprising over 20,000 farmers, and the state’s conducive tropical climate that supports year-round flora. These efforts not only aim to reduce reliance on traditional honey bees, whose populations are declining globally.
Weathered and poisoned
For both bees and butterflies, life has become a daily gamble. Climate change has shifted the seasons — flowers bloom too early, rains arrive too late, and nothing seems to line up like it used to. A butterfly might emerge to find the leaves it feeds on have already withered; a bee might travel kilometres only to find a monocropped desert with no nectar to drink. On top of this, there’s the poison.
In August 2018, the Indian government banned 18 pesticides following recommendations from the Anupam Verma Committee, which reviewed 66 pesticides still in use domestically but banned or restricted elsewhere. Twelve pesticides were banned immediately. Six others were scheduled for phase-out by December 2020. However, widely used and hazardous pesticides like Monocrotophos and Glyphosate were not included in the ban.
Monocrotophos, linked to several poisoning incidents by the farmers, and Glyphosate, classified as a probable human carcinogen by the WHO, continue to be used extensively in Indian agriculture. Critics argue that the ban’s limited scope and delayed implementation allow continued exposure to harmful chemicals. Pesticides disorient bees, reduce butterfly reproduction, and turn landscapes into toxic traps. Even low doses can be fatal over time.
A 2021 review in the Journal of Apicultural Research found that residues of imidacloprid, a common neonicotinoid, were present in both nectar and pollen samples from Indian fields — posing direct risks to honeybee colonies. The problem is that many farmers still don’t know how these chemicals work. They want a quick fix for pests but don’t realise they’re destroying the pollinators they depend on.
Butterflies fare no better. Their caterpillars are often mistaken for pests and targeted with insecticides. In Assam’s tea estates, the Emigrants and Peacocks that were once everywhere are a rare sight. In the rush to maximise yields and maintain monocultures, India’s farms are becoming ecological deserts for the insects that make them fertile.
In India, over 80 crops — including coconut, guava, pigeon pea, sunflower, and cardamom — depend partially or entirely on pollination. One striking example is coffee. In Karnataka’s Kodagu and Chikmagalur districts, coffee plantations rely heavily on bee activity during flowering seasons. A 2019 study published in Agriculture, Ecosystems & Environment showed that a decline in bee density resulted in up to a 24 per cent drop in coffee yield — and even lower bean quality. The link is clear: fewer bees, weaker crops, lower income for farmers.
Indian bees building their hive.
It’s not just commercial crops. Wild plants in forests and grasslands, pollinated by butterflies, solitary bees, moths, and flies, support birds, reptiles, and small mammals. Without this web of pollination, these ecosystems begin to unravel. The chain reaction isn’t slow — it’s already visible in shrinking fruit yields, dying native shrubs, and disappearing insectivore species.
Grassroots solutions are emerging
Despite the bleakness, glimmers of hope can be found. In the Himalayan state of Sikkim, which banned synthetic pesticides in 2015, farmers have reported a resurgence in butterfly and bee populations. NGOs like Keystone Foundation in Tamil Nadu and Sahjeevan in Gujarat have long supported traditional beekeeping, especially among tribal communities. They are working to document and revive these practices and help create forest corridors, train farmers in stingless beekeeping, and plant nectar-rich flora to sustain biodiversity. These efforts must be mainstreamed and supported at national and international levels.
Also read: Marginlands review: How India has brought its landscapes to the brink of loss, devastation
More funding must go into studies of India’s native pollinators. As of now, only a handful of entomologists and ecologists work full-time on this issue, and most universities lack dedicated pollinator research labs. The honey hunters of the Nilgiris and the gatherers in Bastar have practised sustainable harvesting for generations. Their knowledge is invaluable.
Urban citizens too are waking up. In Bengaluru, initiatives like the Butterfly Park in Bannerghatta and rooftop bee hotels in Indiranagar are growing in popularity. In Delhi, the ‘Pollinator Pathways’ campaign has mapped public green spaces ideal for supporting bees and butterflies. Simple actions — planting tulsi, marigold, cosmos, and zinnia in balconies or avoiding pesticide sprays in RWAs — make a tangible difference.
In Indian culture, bees and butterflies have long had a place in mythology and ritual. Honey is considered sacred in Ayurveda. Butterflies feature in folktales as signs of good luck or rebirth. But in the modern imagination, insects have become synonymous with dirt or disease. This cultural detachment has made it easier to ignore their disappearance. The truth is simple, but urgent: without pollinators, our ecosystems collapse. If we lose bees and butterflies, we risk triggering a chain of loss that spans fruits, nuts, grains, textiles, and medicines. The biodiversity of India’s forests, the stability of its farms, the taste of mangoes, the fragrance of jasmine — all are tied to these tiny couriers of life.
