Over 50 of the world’s largest terrestrial animals lined up, their beautiful long tusks glistening. Colourful parasols go up and down, while ornate decorations adorn their foreheads. The sight of the magnificent animals in such regalia cannot fail to awe and impress. The same elephants, in two lines facing each other, legs hobbled together with chains, many with open wounds and signs of abuse, standing for hours in the sweltering heat, surrounded by throngs of noisy people, and amidst fireworks and deafening firecrackers. It’s a sight that cannot fail to sadden. This is the paradox of elephants and the Thrissur pooram. They are so loved and popular that they are pushed beyond the point of abuse. The Kerala forest department bans the use of elephants in the hot sun, but the forest minister overrules and withdraws the order. Actor and activist Pamela Anderson offers to pay for elephant sculptures to be made and used instead, but Oommen Chandy, chief minister, says cruelty to animals is different from elephants being used in temples and festivals. But the 60-odd elephants at the Thrissur pooram are just the tip of the iceberg. There are about 3,500 more captive elephants in India, and a massive 17,000 across the world. Should there be elephants in captivity at all? How should they best be managed? Globally, the discourse is dominated by North American groups who believe they have perfected the chain free, “protected contact positive reinforcement” approach to captive elephant management. The elephants roam in large enclosures. The handlers and other human beings never directly come into contact to minimise the risk of people getting accidentally killed. There is no beating or punishment, only positive reinforcement to get the elephants to do what the handlers want. Getting them to work or perform is strongly discouraged. These ideas are beginning to find support with Indian animal rights activists too, but are met with our “traditional” argument — we have been dealing with captive elephants for thousands of years, from before western civilisation began, so we have nothing to learn from them. Almost all the elephants in India have a “mahout” — people and elephants are in direct contact with each other. There is also a fair amount of abuse, ranging from spiked chains to prevent the animals from pulling and breaking them, to the spiked ankush or bull hook to prod the animals, to beatings at various intervals — more a case of “free contact and negative reinforcement”. However, there is a growing voice against this too. But the nuances around the differing contexts of captive elephants in India is often forgotten. There are some 2,500 privately-owned elephants who worked in timber operations but are now mostly used in the temple and tourism industries. A further 200 or so elephants are directly owned by temples. Another 100 odd perform in circuses, and a 100 more in zoos. Finally, about 500 elephants work in forest department-run camps. These were used in logging operations, but are now used for patrols, taking tourists for rides, and increasingly, to deal with wild elephants in instances of human-elephant conflict. The best way to deal with questions around ideal elephant management is to start with looking at which elephants live the “most natural” lives. Elephants are highly intelligent and emotional. They live in female-led groups, have complex social structures and strong bonds with each other. They need about 200 kg of green fodder and 200 litres of water daily, and spend most of their day walking and eating, moving over very large areas that have access to a large water body. They don’t have sweat glands to cool off, so their ears act like a radiator, and, more than anything, need shade in the day. In view of this, the forest department camp elephants have the best deal. They are left loose at night to forage in the forests, and get a “balanced diet”. They also interact and even breed with wild elephants. A long drag chain is tied to one leg that allows the mahout to track the elephant the next morning, or they return on their own. The chain-free enclosures may sound attractive, but they are still tiny by elephant standards and can never compare with a forest. The “light” work and relationship with humans keep their large brains occupied, and repetitive, stereotypic behaviour is much less than in their protected contact positive reinforcement counterparts. They need minimal veterinary care. However, both systems have a cruel, unseen side. All young elephants in the free contact system have to go through a fortnight’s gruelling training — they are put into a small “kraal” to get them used to being ridden. For elephants caught in the wild, it is much more intense. The elephant is beaten repeatedly and dominated by the mahout before they can be integrated into the mahout-elephant society. In the protected contact scenario, there is the veterinary care. The elephants are put into crush or squeeze cages for various procedures that involves huge stress for the animals. It’s a much harder question when it comes to temple and performing elephants. These have become money-spinners and the needs of the animals are invariably compromised. Their ordeal can only end if the temples themselves work towards a better life for them or if the culture of performing elephants is done away with. But there is no political will to do so. The obsession with elephants does have a positive side. Human cultures across the world wiped out large mammals as they “developed”. But because of our long cultural and religious association, India has more than 60 per cent of the world’s Asian elephants living alongside a high density of people. If elephants lose their revered position in society, the political will to conserve wild elephants may also collapse. * With thanks to Surendra Varma, Raman Sukumar, Prajna Chowta and Philippe Gautier for insightful discussions. The writer is a wildlife conservationist and researcher.
