Africa has become a prime location for a thriving hunting industry. In Zimbabwe the industry is valued at R240-million, in South Africa at R140-million and in Tanzania at about R100-million.
Perhaps the only way to understand why the industry is so lucrative is to ask what drives the desire to hunt. What is the psychology of hunting, and what are the ethical questions it raises?
Whichever way you look at it, hunting does not reflect the best side of humanity. While rudimentary hunting for survival still exists where there are indigenous people, or others living in the mode of subsistence in rural areas, most hunting these days is done in the name of rampant commercialism.
In turning hunting from a necessity into a sport, people created an opportunity for certain profane human traits to continue flourishing with a degree of social acceptance.
During the Victorian era, when there was a colonial land grab in Africa, large swathes of wildlife were mowed down. The Kruger park was created because of concerns that the wildlife in the area would be shot out.
It was also during the Victorian era that trophy hunting became a pastime of the aristocracy. Hunting was regarded not as a necessity or recreation, but as a form of class identification and association. One cannot understand Victorian-era trophy hunting in isolation of the broader colonial political agenda — the dismembering of the African continent by colonial powers scrambling to exploit its natural riches and people.
It is not difficult to trace the modern-day hunter’s predilection to the Victorian-era mindset. A similar desire for heroism and thirst for killing is the undercurrent that informs its modern form.
Sport hunting is an artefact, it can never be the real thing, because it is a “paid for” experience, cushioned by the protection of rangers with large rifles, secure camps and 4×4 vehicles.
It is in this conversion into a sport that the more worrisome tendencies arise. For what has been inherited and carried forward from the legacy of the past is not the act, but the instinct that lay behind the act. This instinct can best be described as perverse.
There can be no denying that some members of the hunting community are also associated with the most dysfunctional ideologies in our societies. They often come from communities where gun culture and macho cowboy mentalities are rife. For instance, in the United States, where owning a gun is seen as a constitutional right worthy of the First Amendment, the number of big-game hunters is reported to be about 11-million.
Of course, we cannot purge all hunters of their thoughts, but certainly we can prevent a blood sport from becoming a crass form of dehumanisation. People run the risk of becoming dehumanised if other people are allowed to inflict unnecessary suffering on other forms of life — particularly if these very life forms rely on human social systems for their protection and their welfare.
In England there is a raging public debate about whether to keep the countryside free from fox hunting, because the justification for this form of hunting rests on threadbare grounds. It is at best conspicuous. All forms of blood sport are driven by rampant commercialism or the indulgence of the lowest form of human instincts.
There is a thin line between a gracious form of hunting/sport and a blood sport. It is interesting that the hunting fraternity has chosen to refer to hunting as a sport, rather than the more appropriate categorisation of blood sport. Because of this it has managed to deflect attention away from its true nature.
The continued promotion of hunting is being justified by rather erroneous cost-benefit analysis. Industry stalwarts have skilfully manipulated the political language of the time to paint a righteous face for the industry. But, not all, I must hasten to say, try to exact such pious pretensions.
Hunting does not give the priority to social and ecological issues claimed by its proponents. Let’s call a spade a spade: there is more desire to protect profits than an attempt to create an industry for the public good.
The figures are eye-catching. However, the industry needs to come clean about who the real beneficiaries are. Perhaps a closer analysis of the flow of benefits will reveal who are the true winners and losers of the industry.
How do we take issues forward, particularly in light of the government’s attempts to regulate “canned” hunting?
There is a larger public debate to be had about the ethics of blood sports and whether they contribute to virtuous human values. Are blood sports appropriate in an era focused on a human rights culture that is the hallmark of civilisation?
For pragmatic reasons, we must assume that hunting will forever be with us. Then we must not lump all forms of hunting together. We must distinguish between those that are permitted out of necessity (the needs of communities who rely on subsistence forms of livelihood), those that are done to promote the economy (because of cross-linkages with aspects of the tourism industry) and those that reflect our dark side.
The more atavistic forms of hunting should at best be prohibited. They discredit an industry that is already ethically strained. Change will only come when the industry embraces ethical practices, if only to save itself.
Saliem Fakir is director of the South African office of the IUCN-World Conservation Union. This article expresses his personal views