In 1981, a young American primatologist named Dian Fossey wrote in her field journal that the mountain gorilla would be extinct within a decade. She had spent thirteen years living among them in the volcanic mountains of Rwanda, and what she saw — poaching, habitat destruction, and the indifference of governments — convinced her that the species was beyond saving.
She was wrong. But only just.
Today, the mountain gorilla (Gorilla beringei beringei) is the only great ape whose population is increasing. In a world where chimpanzees, bonobos, orangutans, and western gorillas are all declining, the mountain gorilla is a genuine conservation success story — a species that came back from 254 individuals to over 1,000 through decades of sustained, intensive effort.
But it remains one of the most endangered animals on Earth. And the story of how it got here — and what it still faces — is one of the most important wildlife stories of our time.
Introduction: Our Closest Mountain Neighbours
The mountain gorilla lives in one of the most densely populated regions of Africa — the Virunga Massif, a chain of six volcanoes straddling the borders of Rwanda, Uganda, and the Democratic Republic of Congo, and the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest in Uganda. These two populations, separated by approximately 25 kilometres of unprotected land, contain all the mountain gorillas on Earth.
They are our close relatives — sharing approximately 98.3% of their DNA with humans. They live in family groups of 5 to 30 individuals, led by a dominant silverback male whose silver-grey back hair signals his maturity and authority. They communicate through a rich repertoire of vocalisations, facial expressions, and body language. They use tools, solve problems, and form deep, long-lasting social bonds. They grieve their dead.
And for most of the twentieth century, they were being killed faster than they could reproduce.
The Collapse — and the Woman Who Refused to Accept It
Mountain gorillas were first described by Western science in 1902, when a German officer shot two individuals in the Virunga volcanoes and brought their bodies back to Europe. For the next several decades, the primary interaction between humans and mountain gorillas was hunting — for trophies, for museum specimens, and for the live animal trade, which required killing the adults to capture the infants.
By the 1960s, the population had collapsed to an estimated 450 individuals. By 1981, Dian Fossey’s census found only 254.
Fossey had arrived in the Virungas in 1967, following in the footsteps of the pioneering primatologist George Schaller. Where Schaller had observed gorillas from a distance, Fossey took a different approach — she habituated individual gorilla families to her presence over months and years, eventually being accepted into their social world to a degree that no researcher had achieved before. Her work, published in her 1983 book Gorillas in the Mist and later adapted into a film, introduced the mountain gorilla to the world.
But Fossey was not just a scientist. She was a fierce, sometimes controversial protector. She destroyed poachers’ traps, confiscated their equipment, and waged a personal war against the poaching networks that were decimating the gorilla population. In December 1985, she was found murdered in her cabin at the Karisoke Research Centre — a crime that has never been officially solved, but that many believe was connected to her anti-poaching activities.
Her death galvanised the international conservation community. The mountain gorilla became a cause célèbre, and the funding and attention that followed transformed conservation efforts in the Virungas.
The Recovery: What Actually Worked
The mountain gorilla’s recovery is not the result of a single intervention — it is the product of decades of sustained effort across multiple fronts, in one of the most politically unstable regions on Earth.
Anti-poaching was the foundation. The Virunga National Park in the DRC, Volcanoes National Park in Rwanda, and Mgahinga and Bwindi Impenetrable National Parks in Uganda all developed dedicated ranger forces specifically trained to protect gorillas. These rangers — many of whom have lost their lives in the line of duty, particularly in the conflict-ridden DRC — patrol gorilla habitat daily, removing snares, confronting poachers, and monitoring gorilla families.
Gorilla tourism transformed the economics of conservation. Rwanda’s Volcanoes National Park introduced gorilla trekking in the 1970s, and the programme has grown into one of Africa’s most valuable wildlife tourism products. A single gorilla trekking permit costs $1,500 in Rwanda — and the revenue funds conservation, supports local communities, and gives governments a powerful financial incentive to protect gorillas. When gorillas are worth more alive than dead, the political calculus changes.
Community engagement addressed the root causes of human-wildlife conflict. Conservation organisations worked with communities living around gorilla habitat to develop alternative livelihoods, share tourism revenue, and build local support for conservation. The International Gorilla Conservation Programme established a revenue-sharing model that directs a percentage of park fees directly to communities — funding schools, health clinics, and infrastructure.
Veterinary intervention — controversial in some conservation circles — has saved individual gorillas and prevented disease outbreaks. The Mountain Gorilla Veterinary Project provides medical care to habituated gorillas, treating injuries, removing snares, and vaccinating against diseases that can spread from humans. Given the tiny population size, saving individual animals genuinely matters.
Political commitment — particularly from Rwanda — has been transformative. President Paul Kagame made gorilla conservation a national priority, and Rwanda’s Volcanoes National Park is now one of the best-managed protected areas in Africa. The contrast with the DRC, where ongoing armed conflict has made conservation extraordinarily difficult and dangerous, illustrates how political stability is itself a conservation tool.
The Threats That Remain
The mountain gorilla’s recovery is real — but it is fragile. With only around 1,000 individuals in two isolated populations, the species remains acutely vulnerable.
Disease is the most immediate threat. Mountain gorillas are susceptible to many of the same diseases as humans — respiratory infections, measles, and other illnesses can spread from tourists, researchers, and rangers to gorillas with devastating consequences. The COVID-19 pandemic prompted the temporary closure of gorilla trekking in all three range countries — a precaution that cost millions in lost tourism revenue but protected gorillas from a virus that could have been catastrophic in such a small population.
Habitat loss continues at the edges of gorilla range. The Virunga Massif is surrounded by some of the most densely populated farmland in Africa, and the pressure to convert forest to agriculture is relentless. Climate change is altering the vegetation of the volcanic mountains, potentially reducing the availability of the plant species that gorillas depend on.
Political instability in the DRC remains a chronic threat. The eastern DRC has been in a state of near-continuous armed conflict for three decades, and Virunga National Park — home to approximately half the world’s mountain gorillas — has been the site of repeated violence. Rangers have been killed, park infrastructure destroyed, and conservation operations disrupted by armed groups. The gorillas themselves have sometimes been caught in the crossfire.
Inbreeding is a growing concern. With only 1,000 individuals in two isolated populations, genetic diversity is limited. The 25-kilometre gap between the Virunga and Bwindi populations means there is no natural gene flow between them — a situation that, over generations, could lead to the accumulation of harmful genetic mutations.
What the Mountain Gorilla Teaches Us
The mountain gorilla’s recovery demonstrates something profound: conservation works, even in the most difficult circumstances. In a region scarred by genocide, civil war, and extreme poverty, communities, governments, and international organisations came together to save a species — and succeeded.
It also demonstrates the power of tourism as a conservation tool. The $1,500 gorilla trekking permit is not just a luxury experience — it is a conservation mechanism, a community development fund, and a political argument for protecting wild places. When local communities benefit directly from wildlife, they become its most effective protectors.
But the mountain gorilla’s story is not finished. One thousand individuals is not a safe population. The work of the past fifty years must continue — and intensify — if this species is to have a secure future.
Go Deeper
The complete story of the mountain gorilla — its social structure, communication, the science of its conservation, and the latest population data — is covered in our premium Mountain Gorilla Wildlife Guide.
