Later: Thinking more about this article and the thoughts it raises about animal consciousness and intention.
If you haven’t read the piece, here it is briefly: there seems to be an upsurge in elephant violence in the past few decades, often resulting in death. Given that elephants are intensely familial, with the ability to communicate – even across large distances (via ground vibrations), might the elephants not be trying to tell US something? Perhaps, as their habitats are destroyed and they are murdered for their ivory, those remaining are standing up to say, “No more. We will not be domesticated.”
They could choose to hang with us to share in the goodies we have (e.g, abundant food and water), the same way other domesticated animals have. Animals, after all, are to a certain degree complicit in their taming. Try and domesticate a wild boar or a badger. Or a great white shark. You don’t want to be tamed, nobody can force you. You might have to pay for that independence with your life, but every animal still has some level of choice of whether to be domesticated or not. 15,000 years ago, dogs wanted the leftover bits from whatever we had caught and killed to eat ourselves, and in return they were willing to let us know if something smelly was coming close. You didn’t see the beavers making that offer.
In fact, most animals have resisted establishing cordial relationships with humans, even though the penalty of resisting was death or imprisonment. We can capture and contain many species, but how many will stay of their own accord? My cat is intensely domesticated. She actively wants to be around me – or at least to know I’m around. The only time I ever see her across the street is when I am over there talking to my neighbor. Then she comes for a visit. A few months ago I was playing poker across the street, and she must have heard my voice, for soon she was outside the window. For the familiarity of my voice or smell, I imagine. If one definition of domestication is sticking around even though you don’t have to, Acorn not only fits that description, she exceeds it. Not only is she not running away, she’s FOLLOWING me.
Obviously, there are degrees of domestication. Pigs, I think, will run off and go feral at the first opportunity. Cattle are a bit more dependable Camels. Horses. Certain species of birds. Primates will live with us, but for some reason, the species that are closest to us genetically and are assumed therefore to be the brightest, can’t seem to learn to do their business in a special place. Dogs learn to do it outside. Cats will do it in the same place every time. (That may be cats' only trick, but it’s a good one.) Even pot-belly pigs can be housetrained. But a chimp’s gotta have a diaper. I don’t get it.
But I had a point…oh yes, degrees of domestication. While some animals can share space and enter into a relationship with human beings, most will not, or will do so only under rare circumstances: Siegfried and Roy’s prisoners, for instance. Some animals – even relatively intelligent ones, just can’t be tamed. Or won’t be. Which brings me back to elephants.
Elephants, at least Asian elephants, straddle the line of domestication. They will work for us pulling trees or standing on one leg while calliope music plays.
They were tools of war in ancient times. They still perform a great deal of heavy labor throughout Asia. But they won’t breed in captivity. And most would likely wander off if they weren’t contained or shackled.
Now, as we continue to encroach into their world, continue to separate infants from parents at an early age (females only – males won’t tolerate captivity), tearing apart elephant families, compelling them to work for our own purposes, perhaps they are fighting back, killing their keepers as a way of saying: “We will not be treated like this. You can take our lives with your loud sticks, but we will no longer submit to you.”
Can’t say I blame them.
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