Heather Physioc, Nusa Penida, Indonesia – Two young conservation workers rattle up on a motorbike and dismount at the edge of a coconut grove. Picking through husks, fallen fronds and stray plastic bottles, they scan the canopy, waiting in stillness.
For nearly 20 minutes, nothing stirs. Then, a flash of white. A Bali starling (Leucopsar rothschildi) pokes its head from the hollow of a dead palm and darts into view before settling on a nearby branch. Moments later its mate follows, the pair taking turns caring for the nest and foraging for food. This natural cavity nest, which sits beside an artificial nest box, is only the second ever recorded on Nusa Penida, a small island off the coast of Bali.
This family of starlings, also known as Bali mynas, are among the world's rarest birds, endemic to Bali and once reduced to just six individuals in the wild.
Each sighting marks a sign of hope for a species making a cautious comeback through community leadership, cultural tradition and grassroots conservation.
The near collapse of the Bali starling
Songbird-keeping surged across Indonesia in the mid-20th century, driven by migration, rising incomes and competitions that elevated melodious birds as status symbols. The Bali starling, prized for its striking white plumage and distinctive call, became a coveted target for collectors and trappers.
Despite official protections dating back to 1958, weak enforcement across the archipelago allowed a lucrative trade to flourish, fueling an economy of trappers, breeders, trainers and cage sellers. Strict bans have sometimes backfired, making ownership of the illicit birds a mark of prestige among elites, a 2015 study in the journal Oryx reported. At its peak, the caged-bird industry was valued in the trillions of rupiah.
With porous borders, thousands of islands and limited resources, traditional enforcement methods struggled to keep up with massive and global demand. Even when authorities manage to confiscate trafficked birds, they often die in captivity from the trauma, stress and lack of immediate care.
Adding to the starling's difficulties, land conversion for agriculture, settlements and tourism infrastructure accelerated deforestation and habitat loss, relegating the species to isolated pockets, making it more vulnerable to threats like predation.
The crisis reached its most desperate moment in 2001, when only six known wild individuals remained. Even more dire, this unique species of myna is the only vertebrate endemic to Bali that remains after Dutch hunters shot the last Bali tiger in 1937.
Traditional, top-down conservation achieved limited success
In the mid-1980s, the International Council for Bird Preservation (later BirdLife International) and the Indonesian government formed a coalition that established objectives for monitoring the species, restocking wild populations, establishing breeding programs and raising public awareness. Breeding efforts were successful, but weak oversight and unclear success metrics hindered post-release outcomes, which were poorly monitored, according to an analysis in Biodiversitas.
The Tegal Bunder Breeding Center released 218 birds into Bali Barat National Park (BBNP) over 18 years, but the wild population continued to plummet. Many failed to survive, lingering near release sites, showing continued reliance on humans and becoming easy targets for poachers.
Park rangers increased patrols, yet poaching continued relentlessly in the forest, and 78 birds were stolen from a breeding center in the national park. A pair of birds could command a black market price up to 40 million rupiah in the 1990s (about $4,500 at the time), years' worth of salary for a park ranger, making it easy to pay off officials if needed.
"The crucial point was that this Western approach had a need to protect, ramp up enforcement, monitor it, and it wasn't really getting anywhere," said Paul Jepson, who led the BirdLife Indonesia program in the 1990s. "It wasn't solving the decline."
BirdLife donors eventually lost confidence, and the NGO withdrew from the initiative by 1994.
The songbird trade remains a significant source of income for many Indonesian communities, with the caged-bird sector estimated to be worth billions of U.S. dollars. In some communities, a single forest sustains the local economy. Bird-catching is how people put food on the table, send kids to school or pay for health care in an emergency. When less extractive alternatives do not offer clear financial incentive, people resort back to the forest.
"Local communities tend to think and act pragmatically," said Marison Guciano, founder and executive cirector of FLIGHT, an NGO founded to combat the regional songbird trade. "Meeting basic community needs must be a priority. Conservation efforts are not only about protecting and preserving wildlife and forests, but also building and improving the welfare of local communities."
Community-led conservation changes the conversation
Conservation on Bali was hampered by weak enforcement, villages scattered across difficult terrain and fragmented habitat for the birds. Coastal trade routes made it easy to smuggle birds, while overlapping laws created loopholes for exploitation. A sustainable Bali starling conservation solution needed adequate land and local support to scale.
Where conventional conservation solutions failed, changing the fate of the wild Bali starling required an unconventional approach. In the early 2000s, Balinese veterinarian and founder of Friends of the National Parks Foundation (FNPF), Dr. Bayu Wirayudha, had such an idea.
"I came up with the idea of, why not make a kind of sanctuary or midway house on an empty island?" Wirayudha said. "Indonesia has more than 17,000 islands, and we only need one."
The idea faced initial hesitancy from scientists, fearing the move might change biodiversity on other islands, but eventually Nusa Penida was selected as an ideal location for the conservation experiment. It lies immediately off Bali's southern shore, with a small and manageable landscape and no endangered species likely to be threatened by using the island as an ex-situ conservation site.
Wirayudha began an ambitious mission to meet with every village on the island of Nusa Penida. Representatives from FNPF appeared at communal gatherings like village meetings, ceremonies and weddings to make short speeches advocating the island's designation as a bird sanctuary and offering reforestation and community development aid. One by one, he collected letters of support. In 2006, all 35 (now 41) traditional villages on the island formally agreed to turn the island into a refuge.
"All the people in our village are working together to secure this species," said Made Sukadana, chair of an organization working to increase tourism in Tengkudak village. "We plant fruit trees for the Bali starling and support a dedicated, passionate bird person who monitors daily. We are creating interesting activities related to conservation and nature; this brings a positive impact to the villagers' economy from the visitors."
FNPF helped villages inscribe bird protection into their customs through awig-awig, Hindu-based customary laws that must be decided upon by the entire community. The mutually agreed-upon rules carry cultural and social weight and promote collective moral responsibility. Violators face steep fines, ceremonies or even the obligation to feed the entire village – penalties more powerful than formal law. Where law enforcement is short-staffed and operates only during working hours, communities can create constant stewardship.
Locals have also become involved in on-the-ground conservation. Villagers help FNPF staff monitor nest cavities and track egg and chick health. Instead of poaching, residents rescue injured birds, plant trees for habitat restoration, distribute saplings, install and monitor artificial nest boxes and manage predators like geckos and monitor lizards.
"You get everyone in your community in a wild bird preserving culture, and it becomes self-regulating," said Jessica Lee, head of avian species programs and partnerships at Mandai Nature. "These people are paid to patrol forests and protect birds, rather than catching birds to earn an income. They are guardians. They become the eyes and ears on the ground as a community."
Calling awig-awig the "most important alternative to protect Bali starling," a 2015 report in the Journal of Bali Studies reported a nearly 1,200% improvement in anti-poaching compliance over formal criminal law on Nusa Penida. Indonesian authorities publicly recognized the success of the ex-situ conservation effort on Nusa Penida for the first time in 2023.
On Nusa Penida, 64 released starlings grew to about 100 by 2009, dispersing naturally and breeding more successfully than in BBNP, some reportedly up to three times per year, thanks to reduced poaching pressure and abundant food. The population still relies heavily on artificial nest sites, but the two natural nests recorded by FNPF are a hopeful sign of self-sustainability.
The sanctuary's success has attracted publicity and ecotourism, from bird-watcher groups to National Geographic cruise expeditions. Former poachers have become bird guides. Villages have developed shade-grown coffee canopies with bird-watching sites underneath.
The influx of visitors has brought tangible economic gains for residents. Ecotourism revenue has grown, partly driven by interest in the Bali starling. Reports indicate that recovery efforts and tourism development have increased tourist visits, extended stays and improved local incomes.
Awig-awig regulations to protect the Bali starling made their way to mainland Bali when, in 2018, Melinggih Kelod village adopted communal protections for the birds. A string of "Bali starling villages" has also emerged: Tengkudak, Bongan and Sibangkaja. Each has embraced the starling as a source of cultural significance and economic opportunity, integrating habitat protection, agroforestry, certified breeding and tourism opportunities into community life, with support from FNPF.
"In the new commitment on Bali mainland, they put a fine of 10 million rupiah [about $600], not only for Bali starlings, but any bird species," Wirayudha said. "Second, they must feed the whole community, and if any community members reject their food, this person needs to pay them cash. Plus, make a ceremony to ask forgiveness in the temple. Who would dare do that stupid thing? It will cost them so much."
In Tengkudak, traditional regulations require residents to plant two trees for each one they cut of species that provide food for the starlings. Population growth efforts have been so effective in Tengkudak that it's called "Kampung Jalak Bali," or "The Village of the Bali starling." Bongan is known for its "Golden Triangle" of conservation, culture and education and houses a dedicated breeding center.
Cautious optimism for a bird coming back from the brink
According to the most recent population survey in October 2021, approximately 420 wild Bali starlings live in BBNP, according to standardized counts conducted by park staff. Another 100 individuals are estimated to live on Nusa Penida.
The recovery is remarkable but still fragile, with success depending on coordination across villages, governments, NGOs and markets. When conservation delivers livelihoods, restored habitats and cultural pride, it builds lasting support for at-risk species. In the case of the Bali starling, community consensus has proven to be one of its most powerful tools for survival.
Citations
Jepson, P. R. (2015). Saving a species threatened by trade: A network study of Bali starlingLeucopsar rothschildiconservation. Oryx, 50(3), 480-488. doi:10.1017/s0030605314001148
Jarwadi Budi Hernowo, J., & Haquesta, S. (2021). Evaluation on Bali mynah (Leucopsar rothschildi Stresemann, 1912) population, result of release process 1998-2015 in Bali Barat National Park, Indonesia. Biodiversitas Journal of Biological Diversity, 22(7). doi:10.13057/biodiv/d220719
Hardini, J., Wirayudha, I.G., Rosyidi, A., Rita, N.A., Mawanti, I., Kalih, L.A.,... Sudaryanto, F.X. (2023). The carrying capacity of Nusa Penida island, Bali, Indonesia for Bali myna (Leucopsar rothschildi Stresemann, 1912). Biodiversitas Journal of Biological Diversity, 24(6). doi:10.13057/biodiv/d240643