Bonobo: Messenger of Peace, Victom of War http://labanimals.awionline.org/pubs/Quarterly/Spring02/bonobo.

htm

Bonobo: Messenger of Peace, Victim of War

By Sally Jewell Coxe, Bonobo Conservation Initiative

Deep in the heart of the Congo, legends linger about an elusive, "almost human" shadow, an
ape so much like us that some indigenous people believe it is trying to become human. This
mysterious ape has been shrouded from the allure accorded its cousins, the chimpanzees,
gorillas, and orangutans. In fact, most people do not even know it exists. (photo © Franz Lanting)

Witness the bonobo. Bonobos (Pan paniscus) were the last great ape to be studied by modern
scientists and unless protections are enforced immediately, they could be the first to go
extinct. These rare apes inhabit the central Congo Basin, the second largest rain forest on
Earth and the area of greatest biodiversity in Africa. Found only in one country, the
Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), a resource-rich region now ravaged by civil war and
foreign occupation, bonobos face an ironic fate. Distinguished by their peaceful, matriarchal
society and loving nature, bonobos have become victims of human violence.

Bonobos are being hunted in greater numbers throughout their habitat, and little is being done
to protect them. The population, small to begin with, is fragmented and decreasing. No one
knows how many bonobos survive. Estimates range between 5,000 and 20,000, but there is
insufficient evidence to support any claims. We do know that bonobos have disappeared
from several areas where they formerly lived unthreatened. Traditional taboos, which once
protected bonobos, are breaking down in the face of economic desperation and human
population pressure. More and more bonobos are being killed, both for sustenance and for
profit in the commercial bushmeat trade, which is ravaging wildlife across central Africa.

Unlike their close relatives, the chimpanzees (Pan troglodytes) who have a male-dominated,
competitive society and actually wage territorial wars against each other, bonobos have a

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matriarchal culture, bound by cooperation, sharing, and the creative use of sex. Bonobos live
in large groups where peaceful coexistence is the norm. Females carry the highest rank and
the sons of ranking females are the leaders among males. Alliances among females are the
central unifying force.

Bonobos show how a complex society can be ordered successfully by cooperation, rather
than competition. They demonstrate many qualities we humans need to emulate to ensure our
own survival, and that of our planet.

Dubbed "the sexy apes," bonobos truly exemplify the 1960s credo, "make love, not war."
They make a lot of love and do so in every conceivable fashion. Sex transcends reproduction
in bonobos, as it does in humans. Bonobos are bisexual, or as psychologist Frans de Waal
contends, "pansexual." Sex permeates almost all aspects of daily life. Encounters, both with
the same and the opposite sex, serve as a way of bonding, sharing, and keeping the peace.
When neighboring groups of bonobos meet in the forest, they greet one another sexually and
share food instead of fighting. Unlike other apes, bonobos frequently copulate face to face,
looking into each other's eyes.

Bonobo anatomy is strikingly similar to that of our early human ancestor, Australopithecus.
Bonobos walk bipedally more easily and more often than other apes. The Mongandu people
of the Congo forest tell a story that goes like this: One day, all the animals went to God to ask
him to give them tails. God said that the animals to receive tails are those who don't stand
upright. The bonobo, along with the other animals, respected this law. When they were
coming in line to take their tails, the bonobo felt the need to scratch his back. He forgot God's
law and walked as he was scratching himself, standing up on two feet. Seeing this, God
chased him and said, "Go away, because you are not an animal that can have a tail. Indeed,
you are a man."

The uncommon social structure, sexual behavior, and intellectual capacity of bonobos reveal
compelling clues about the roots of human nature. Highly compassionate and conscious
beings, bonobos blur the line between animal and human. Much of what we know about the
bonobo mind and emotion is thanks to two very special individuals, Kanzi and his sister
Panbanisha, who currently live at the Georgia State University Language Research Center
near Atlanta. Under the tutelage of Dr. Sue Savage-Rumbaugh, these bonobos have learned
to understand spoken English and they can communicate using a sign language. The bonobos
speak by pointing to lexigrams or symbols on a keyboard that correspond to words.

Kanzi and Panbanisha have certainly been my best teachers, and they have inspired my work
for bonobo conservation more than anything else. Getting to know them has been one of the
most exhilarating and humbling experiences of my life, and I will always be grateful to Sue
Savage-Rumbaugh for opening her door to me. The first day I had direct contact with
Panbanisha several years ago, we went for a walk in the forest surrounding the lab.
Panbanisha loves to play hide-and-seek, and she wanted to hide with me. We found a
secluded spot on the riverbank and huddled together under a bush. Panbanisha kept very
quiet and still. When the researcher on the prowl yelled, "Panbanisha, where are you?" she
turned to me, her eyes alert and cautious, as if to say "shhh, don't move!" I experienced the
same kind of intimate camaraderie I did as a child, hiding out in the woods with my best
friend avoiding imaginary foes.

When we stopped to rest and have a snack, Panbanisha began to groom me, combing my hair
with her fingers, inspecting the contours of my face. When she discovered a cut on my wrist,
she pointed to it, furrowed her brow and made soft "whu" sounds with a doctorly air of

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concern. Then she said "hurt" on her keyboard. Once she was convinced that this "hurt" was
not "bad," she proceeded to bite off all my fingernails! Quite the manicurist, Panbanisha
peeled a twig making a sharp point, then used it to clean under what remained of my nails,
carefully attending to each finger, one by one. This is bonding bonobo-style. I was awed and
honored to be accepted by Panbanisha and as happy as she was to have made a new friend.

Now, Panbanisha has reached maturity and has two babies of her own. The depth of her
consciousness and intelligence is palpable; you can sense it merely by looking into her eyes.
It is clear to all who know her and Kanzi well that they are capable of much more than they
have demonstrated so far, even in ground-breaking scientific tests.

Likewise, in the wild, it is clear that bonobos

have a complex communication system, which
they use to coordinate their movements through
the forest, breaking into small groups for
foraging during the day and then regrouping at
night. When bonobos gather in the trees to
make their night nests, they fill the twilight with
a symphony of soprano squeals. Their
high-pitched vocalizations sound like the voices
of exotic birds, compared to the more guttural
hoots of chimpanzees. Indigenous Mongandu
people who live among bonobos at the Wamba
research site still use a whistle language in the
forest that is eerily reminiscent of the bonobo
calls.

We can learn much from bonobos, and we

stand to lose enormously if these loving,
intelligent apes are allowed to disappear.

Thankfully, there is hope. After six years of civil war, the peace process is finally moving
forward in the DRC, and it is now possible to resume conservation work in the bonobo
habitat. There is an urgent need to raise awareness globally and mobilize conservation in the
DRC. As the Congo War abates, concerted efforts can begin to protect bonobos and their
habitat and to position the apes as a national treasure and icon of peace.

*map created by Chris Auger

YOU CAN HELP!

Every donation makes a difference. Please contact the Bonobo Conservation Initiative: 2701
Connecticut Ave., NW #702, Washington, DC 20008, (202) 332-1014.

The Bonobo Conservation Initiative (BCI) is a non-profit organization based in Washington,

DC and Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo. In partnership with other groups, the BCI
is launching a major international campaign to save bonobos before it's too late.

BCI works on in-situ conservation efforts such as a coordinated bonobo survey,

establishment of new protected areas, community conservation and female empowerment,
and an "Adopt-a-Bonobo" Campaign to support orphan bonobos.

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BCI promotes education and awareness through our website, www.bonobo.org, a multimedia
awareness campaign, digital radio in DRC, and the hosting of an International Bonobo
Summit and Bonobo Peace Concert.

We continue to work with the DRC government and UN agencies to enforce laws against
hunting and to position bonobos as a flagship for the Congo and icon of peace.

Your contribution will help to protect bonobos in their natural environment and raise
awareness about these amazing apes worldwide. Every project that the BCI undertakes
benefits not only bonobos and the biodiversity of the Congo Forest, but also the local people
and prospects for peace.

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An Elephant Heaven on Earth

Approximately 35 miles from northern Thailand's city

of Chiang Mai, in a lush green valley surrounded by
steep mountains, is a magical place called the Elephant
Nature Park. Established in 1995 by Sangduen "Lek"
Cailert, the park is a sanctuary for abused, neglected,
and orphaned elephants from all over Thailand. When I
first arrived there, I was overwhelmed with feelings of
peace and hope that remained with me throughout my
stay.

The soulful eyes of an elephant can tell many life

stories. Unfortunately, for the Asian elephants of
Thailand, these tales often contain a great deal of pain
and misery. Whether it be Mae Dta Keow, once a
logging and trekking elephant who was repeatedly
chained, deprived of food and water and severely
beaten to be made more submissive; Boon Khum, the
former working elephant who almost died from an
infection left in the holes where his tusks had been
removed with a chainsaw; or Jokia, who was blinded
after her mahout (elephant handler) shot rocks at one
of her eyes with a sling shot and her owner shot the
other with a bow and arrow to get her to work harder,
each elephant has a heartbreaking past.

Fortunately, however, Mae Dta Keow, Boon Khum,

Jokia and others like them have been given a chance
to live freely without fear of further neglect and abuse
in the park's natural, tranquil environment. More than
30 elephants inhabit the sanctuary, ranging in all ages,
from babies to elders. Most were rescued after having
been purchased from private owners.

In Thailand, some individuals use elephants to beg for

Photos, from top: Tracy Silverman money on the hot, busy, and polluted city streets of
offers corn to an elephant during Bangkok and Chiang Mai, causing the animals stress,
feeding time. The herd roams freely dehydration and malnourishment. Others use
on the grounds of the Elephant Natureelephants in trekking camps, where they are forced to
Park. Elephants congregate at the carry people on their backs through dense jungles,
viewing platform before feeding time. paint pictures with their trunks, and perform
circus-like tricks in shows. What tourists visiting such
trekking camps do not know, however, is that they are paying to interact with elephants who
were previously placed in wooden "crushing boxes," in which they are immobilized, beaten
with sticks, and gouged with sharp nails for days on end in an effort to break their spirit and
make them submissive to their mahouts. This ritualistic process known as the pajaan is just
the beginning of what typically becomes a lifetime of suffering for these animals.

Due to many factors, including poaching and habitat

reduction caused by Asia's fast-growing population, the
number of elephants in Thailand has decreased
dramatically from 100,000 a century ago to an
estimated 3,000 to 4,000 today. Sanctuary owner Lek

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Cailert has dedicated her life to their plight. Her passion for these animals began at an early
age, when she spent many hours with Tongkum, an elephant who was kept by her
grandfather. Lek saw Tongkum as a member of the family, just as she sees all the elephants
at the Elephant Nature Park today.

To rehabilitate the elephants at the park and create strong bonds with them, Lek showers the
elephants with love, kindness and compassion. Positive reinforcement is the only teaching
and training method she and her staff use with the animals-there are no bull hooks or other
instruments of torture at the park. The only tools that can be found are the staff's hands and
voices, plus the occasional treat, such as a piece of coconut or bread.

The work that Lek and her staff have done to rehabilitate some of the neglected and abused
elephants of Thailand is truly awe-inspiring. Watching these majestic creatures interact so
gently and in such a trusting way with humans gave me hope, not only for the rest of the
working elephants in Thailand, but also for the performing circus elephants in the United
States who regularly fall victim to human cruelty as they are beaten with bull hooks and
chained for prolonged periods of time.

In the coming months, as we enter the final stages of preparation before going to trial against
Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus for cruel treatment of elephants under the
Endangered Species Act, I will think about the elephant heaven on earth that I visited in Asia
and be reminded of how critical it is for us to prevail in our case. Hopefully one day soon, the
Ringling elephants can be spared additional suffering and live in a place like this, too.

-story and photos by Tracy Silverman

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Interspecies Attachments
Why Different Animals Form Bonds
The improbable relationship between
Owen, a baby hippo orphaned by the 2004
tsunami in Southeast Asia, and Mzee, a
130-year-old tortoise living in Africa, made
headlines for its remarkable and touching
story. Following the disaster, the displaced
hippo was moved to LaFarge Eco Systems,
a wildlife refuge in Kenya, and quickly
bonded with the giant tortoise.

Many reports of similar unexpected unions

have made the news in recent months,
from a rodent-eating snake and a hamster
living in harmony in a Tokyo zoo to a
The friendship between Owen the hippo and Mzee puppy serving as a socialization tool for a
the tortoise has inspired several children’s books and lion cub separated from his mother. And
countless news articles. Peter Greste/Lafarge Eco Systems though most of these situations are
happening in captivity, similar
introductions have been made in the wild.
When a deer was killed near Natural Bridge, Va. last year, her fawn moved onto a nearby
pasture occupied by a cow and her calves. The cow soon began looking after the fawn as if she
was the natural mother.

"In many instances, these cases have their origins in a young animal who has not been weaned
taking to an older animal," says Animal Welfare Institute Laboratory Animal Consultant Viktor
Reinhardt, a veterinarian. "Under natural conditions, this is the mother." However, sometimes
animals are forced to adapt.

This is certainly true in the case of Owen and Mzee. "Owen saw Mzee as his refuge," says
LaFarge Eco Systems General Manager Paula Kahumbu. "Mzee is a social tortoise who had been
looking for closer companionship, which he lacked from the other animals already present in his
enclosure…. It’s a two-way relationship that really works."

Though the refuge has attempted to reunite Owen with other hippos, he continues to prefer the
company of Mzee. This "imprinting" is a long-accepted concept that endures despite animals’
differences, Reinhardt said. "It’s a special phenomenon in that it is irreversible." Not only does
Owen feel a stronger connection to Mzee than other hippos, but he may prefer to be around
tortoises for the rest of his life.

In other cases, different species connect after the loss of a mate. "It’s amazing what animals do
when they want to bond and be close to each other," says Mark Bekoff, a professor of Ecology
and Evolutionary Biology at the University of Colorado.

Recently at the Los Angeles Zoo, a Red River porcine named Willy began nuzzling up to a bongo
(a large, forest-dwelling antelope) named Nicole after his mate died of cancer last summer.
Together in the mud pit, they take naps side-by-side and groom each other. To the animals’

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caretakers, it’s obvious that Willy was lonely and wanted to make a new connection. "We do it
and so do they," Bekoff says.

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From left to right: Leibchen was abandoned for over seven

weeks; her family returned and left her out with the trash
because of her grave condition. Fortunately, neighbors brought
her to the Southern Animal Foundation. She is now in a Gulf
Coast Doberman Rescue foster home. Jen Rinick rescued a
rabbit who was pregnant and has since had babies. Tansey and
Toulouse were also brought back from New Orleans by Jen. Like
many animals who were rescued, Tansey was suffering from a
severe heartworm infestation. Jen Rinick/AWI

One More
With thousands of animals at risk in New Orleans, trying to save as many as possible
was an endless labor of love.

Pieces of metal, wood and glass, from houses that once lined Banks Street danced in the
wind blowing over the muddy roads of New Orleans. Unfamiliar noises would become
commonplace after just a few hours of navigating through the desolate streets. As I kneeled
down to leave food and water for surviving animals in the area, I heard a screeching, piercing
noise through the uninhabited commotion. Was it the cry of a cat? There was just no way to tell
amidst all of the other eerie sounds, so I scanned the area, hoping to uncover the source of the
noise.

After not seeing anything, I completed my food and water drop and began to walk away—until I
heard the noise once again. This time, it was a bit louder. I paused, turned back and scanned
the area for a second time.

At the base of a dark alley, two tiny celadon eyes suddenly lit up in the darkness. Among piles
of trash and debris, there stood a scrawny black cat. Banks, as I would later call him, was just
the first of several animals I helped rescue in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, the flood of
New Orleans and Hurricane Rita.

Each day in New Orleans presented unique challenges. Mine

began at 5:30 a.m., when I met with the other search and
rescue volunteers for our daily assignments. Every morning, we
received the addresses of approximately 200 residences where
animals had been left behind by their owners. Yet as diligent as
we were in our efforts to visit as many as possible, we could

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never get to them all. Breaking into a property and searching through all of the rubble for
animals was an arduous undertaking. Moving quickly through our assignments was further
complicated when we spotted an animal while en route to a specific address. We constantly
faced the moral dilemma of whether to spend time attempting a rescue or to continue on to the
next address on our list.

Darkness signaled the conclusion of search and rescue efforts each day, but it was not the end
of the day for me. I just couldn’t stop. I couldn’t sleep knowing that there was work to be done.
My home base, the shelter at the Lamar- Dixon Exposition Center in Gonzales, La., was
operational and housing hundreds of rescued animals. One more animal to walk, one more
animal to pet, one more animal to play with, one more animal to give a toy or a treat, one
more animal to clean up after… It was an endless labor of love, and when I finally dragged
myself to my van to go to sleep, it was only because I didn’t want to risk burning out either
physically or mentally.

There were many highs and lows during the time I spent in New Orleans, but the one thing that
will stick with me forever is the loving and grateful eyes of the animals we saved. Thankfully, I
will be able to see a pair of them every day for years to come because I took Banks home with
me. He will always serve as a reminder that we really did make a difference. —by Tracy
Silverman

Our Role in Disaster Relief

With funding from the Animal Welfare Institute, Julia White

(following in the footsteps of her father, Ben) participated in the
first round of animal rescue efforts after Hurricane Katrina. In
late September, just as many volunteers were getting ready to
"We went along go home, AWI’s Tracy Silverman and Jen Rinick arrived to
looking for dogs, provide additional support. Jen spent an entire month
listening for barking. administering food drops and using box traps to round up
If there were dogs in animals who had become skittish and afraid of people. "It was a
the house, we’d break lot of work, but it was gratifying work," she said. "People just
down the doors." didn’t realize how many animals were still out there." Jen saw
dogs with their teeth completely worn down from gnawing to
—Julia White free themselves from the homes in which they were left, a
Doberman who had clung to life for weeks only to be left out
with the trash to die (see caption above), and even an
Australian monitor lizard who had survived in a flooded home.
We donated much needed box traps, catchpoles and gloves to
Louisiana and Mississippi rescue groups. Currently, the Society
for Animal Protective Legislation is pressing Congress for
legislation to address the needs of animals during and following
disasters.

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Irresponsible Farming Practices

Harm Animals Around the World
Millions Left Dead in Katrina’s Wake

In early August, 250,000 egg-laying hens were killed in a fire at a Michigan factory farm. Sadly,
this number pales in comparison to the animal fatalities caused by Hurricane Katrina at the end
of the month. In addition to wildlife, companion and laboratory animals who drowned, reports
indicate millions of farm animals died during the storm, and more were slaughtered or expected
to die due to disease.

The vast majority who died were chickens raised for meat in confinement systems. Like the
hens left to burn up in the fire, these animals were abandoned when disaster struck—and are
commonly referred to as "live inventories" or forgotten. Responsible farming calls for a disaster
management plan that places importance on the animals’ welfare.

Antibiotics Overuse Spurs Resistance

Drug resistance due to indiscriminate use of antibiotics in both animals and humans in Asia has
fueled the spread of a pig-borne disease in humans living in southwest China since late June.
Usually rare in humans and easily treated, streptococcus suis infected over 200 people in
Sichuan province by mid-August, killing almost 20 percent of reported cases.

Meanwhile, avian influenza continues to flourish, largely due to the weakened immune systems
of birds raised for meat who are force-fed mass quantities of antibiotics and housed together in
cramped sheds. More than 60 people have died after contracting the virus, and officials have
culled at least 140 million birds as a result.

Insecticide Causes Birds to Fall from the Sky

Famphur, sold under the trade name Warbex, is an

organophosphorus insecticide associated with bird
die-offs; numerous dead magpies, robins and hawks
have been discovered after treating cattle with
dermal applications of the drug. The chemical can
remain on cattle hair for over 90 days, posing a
serious risk to birds who perch on the backs of cattle
or ingest their hair. Secondary and tertiary
poisoning of eagles and other raptors feeding on
famphur-killed wildlife have also been documented.
Famphur, an insecticide commonly applied
topically to livestock, is harmful to many A federal district court in Georgia recently
species of birds who interact with cattle. sentenced Kahn Cattle Co. for violating the
Raptors such as the great horned owl risk Resource Conservation and Recovery Act and the
secondary or tertiary poisoning as the Migratory Bird Treaty Act. The conviction stemmed
chemical infects the food chain. USFWS from an incident in Jan. 2003 in which state law
enforcement officials responded to White, Ga.
resident reports that birds were "falling from the
sky" and concluded that famphur-laced corn had been spread around the Kahn farm. They

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collected 3,326 dead birds, including several owl species, blackbirds, geese, crows, cardinals and
blue jays. Many more likely went undiscovered.

Monsanto’s Roundup: Deadly to Frogs

A new study says the agricultural biotechnology corporation Monsanto’s popular herbicide
Roundup is highly lethal to frogs. University of Pennsylvania researcher Rick Relyea has shown
Roundup kills tadpoles at concentrations lower than those previously tested, and 98 percent
died within three weeks. His experiments also prove the chemical’s effects are not diminished
by the presence of soil, and it killed 79 percent of adult frogs in only one day. Almost 113
million pounds of Roundup are used on farms each year, and the herbicide often drifts to small
wetlands, putting the future of frogs in many areas in jeopardy.

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The Dolphin's Gaze http://labanimals.awionline.org/pubs/Quarterly/05_54_04/05_54_4p11.htm

We sadly inform you that world-renowned animal and environmental activist Ben White died in
late July. A non-violent freedom fighter in what he called a 300-year war against nature, he
had the conviction to use any means to make the world a better place. The eight years he spent
protecting old-growth forests, whales, dolphins and other wildlife as a representative of the
Animal Welfare Institute will never be forgotten—and his courage and dedication are already
missed.

In the 1970s, Ben’s life was forever changed while swimming with dolphins in waters off the
coast of Hawaii. “I was suddenly aware that the entire world is conscious,” he told the media
when asked to describe the incident. Several years ago, he wrote about his experience, and a
version of this article was published in the 2003 book Between Species: Celebrating the
Dolphin-Human Bond. In this issue, we pay tribute to Ben through his inspiring words on the
fleeting moment that called him to action.

The Dolphin’s Gaze

By Ben White

One brief experience 30 years ago charted the entire course of

my life. It was the morning I first swam with the wild dolphins
of Kealakekua Bay. I’m still trying to figure out exactly what
happened. All I know is I was a different person when I crawled
from the sea than the one who plunged in an hour before.
Colors were brighter. Gratitude for being alive moved me to a
strange combination of laughter and tears. My old worldview
had collapsed on itself. A new one had sprung from the sea,
from my swim and from the dolphin’s gaze.

I am not a “new-ager.” As a lifelong professional tree climber

and longtime single daddy, I love solid and sure things, like the
steel snap of a climbing clip telling me I am safely tied in. I
believe in the tangible. But my source of sustenance has
always been a personal relationship with Nature. As a kid, I
found solace exploring creeks and forests.

Ben leads activists dressed as When others of my generation scattered across the globe
turtles at the 1999 World Trade searching for spiritual teachers in the Himalayas or in the
Organization protest in Seattle, zendos in Japan, I wound up—at the age of 20—living by
Wash. Jen Rinick/AWI myself on a jungle hillside on the Kona coast of the big island
of Hawaii. Three or four times a week, I would follow the
winding asphalt road down to the bay, kick off into the warm
clear water and enter the dazzling world of reef life. In the evening I climbed, dripping wet,
back home to my little plastic and bamboo tipi tucked beneath two coconut palms that clattered
in the breeze.

I meditated and studied Zen Buddhism and Lao Tzu. I was intrigued by the concept of
enlightenment and collected odd stories that described the onset of this flip-flop of
consciousness. One told of a solitary monk who attained enlightenment after decades of
concentration. While sweeping his secluded cabin, a pebble thrown by his broom thwacked
against the wall with a peculiar sound. Bingo! He was changed forever. Other stories told of

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realized beings that could trigger enlightenment with just a glance.

I assume that I have not passed that elusive golden

doorway into enlightenment. I still get moody and
depressed and bark at my kids. Only twice in my life
have I experienced a gaze that really reached to the
bottom of my soul and turned me inside out. Once
was from a yogi I met in Southern Oregon in a cave
behind a waterfall. The other was from one of the
dolphins in Kealekakua Bay.

For a couple of weeks I had been watching dolphins

glint in the sun as they played in the bay. Viewed
from my hillside high above, one after another
would smash through the ocean surface and spin
high into the air with the most amazing pirouettes
before splashing down. The joy and abandon in their
movement beckoned to me. I wanted to play.
Inviting a few laid-back friends to join me on the
mile or so swim out to the dolphins, I found no
takers. When I asked why the dolphins kept flying
out of the water I was solemnly told that it was their
way of shedding parasites. Sort of like saying
Baryshnikov soared due to ants in his pants.

A dozen excuses argued I shouldn’t swim out to the

dolphins. Finally the desire for adventure
overwhelmed the fear of risk. Sitting at the surf’s Ben, shown twice in front of the Japan
edge, just barely able to see distant dorsal fins slice Consulate in San Francisco, Calif., stirs up
the surface, I strapped on mask, snorkel and fins, an international outcry over the capture of
lowered my head and started kicking. The water an entire pod of wild orcas by Japanese
world was familiar, the moving reef life a comfort, fishermen in 1997. Earth Island Institute
until it began dropping away. Hawaii is just the tip of
the largest mountain in the world; its base is
thousands of feet underwater. I was tiny, almost naked, alone, flying over this abyss until I
could no longer see the bottom, just light shafts from the sun not-quite-converging far below in
the indigo depths.

A giant barracuda angled toward me, a flashing silver bullet. But he passed by, heading toward
the shore, without any sign of notice from his flat round eye.

On and on I kicked. Now and then I raised my head to check my progress. Thoughts raced: yep,
they’re still there, dorsal fins mimicking the short choppy surface waves. But geez, they’re big,
much bigger than I thought. Maybe this little swim isn’t such a good idea after all.

I really started to get scared, but it was too late to

retreat. They had spotted me. Two dolphins
suddenly shot from out of nowhere straight toward
me. I heard an odd trilling series of clicks and felt a
ratcheting vibration shudder through my chest and
belly. I had been echolocated.

One dolphin kept coming at me. I wondered if

dolphins really did kill sharks by ramming into their
bellies like in the show “Flipper.” There was no place
to hide. I was totally out of my element,
defenseless. Then the dolphin slid by on my left,

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The Dolphin's Gaze http://labanimals.awionline.org/pubs/Quarterly/05_54_04/05_54_4p11.htm

Ben speaks at a 1994 rally at Ballard Locksmaybe 8 feet away, and regarded me from stem to
in Seattle, Wash. to save sea lions. stern with one long piercing gaze.
Jim Frohoff

In trying to understand this moment and why it

triggered such an epiphany, I keep thinking about
that gaze. We are told that eyes only receive, not
send. I don’t believe that. My favorite game as a
bored kid in school was to stare at the back of
another student. Invariably they would turn around.
Something comes out of eyes.

What happened when that dolphin looked at me? I

was humbled to the dirt. All of my insecurities and
fears were shaken out like so much dust; inspected,
laughed at and discarded. The gaze stripped me of
Ben unfurls an anti-Ringling Bros. banner all swagger and presumption.
in Spokane, Wash. in 1996. Lisa Wathne
But it was more. I said the dolphin “regarded” me. I
have known many dogs; close friends I loved dearly.
But I have never seen such complexity, humor and
recognition in the eyes of any creature other than
humans, and rarely enough in those. Inside that
sleek gray dolphin body was a person. No doubt
about it: a self-aware, evaluating, conscious,
thinking, playful and accepting person.

If dolphins had “persons” inside of them, then

almost everything that I had been taught about
human specialness and our perch upon the crown of
Ben testifies at a recent hearing of the
National Marine Fisheries Service. creation was a crock. A whole string of logical
Mac Hawley assumptions tumbled like dominoes. If dolphins are
persons, then all other creatures must also be
persons, even if their eyes don’t shake my innards quite the same way. And if all other
creatures were persons, self-aware entities like me, then the world was infinitely richer. The
axiom that all other creatures except for humans were just inert props for our starring role on
earth was exposed as a deadly lie, keeping us isolated from our greater family. The world was
suddenly huge and welcoming, with every facet calling out to me. I had found a place I
belonged. It replaced the sterile stage upon which I had briefly performed.

The guard dolphin let me pass. Soon I was surrounded by a pod of about 50 dolphins. (Years
later I learned that this family, now much besieged by seekers just like me, is one of only two
resident pods of spinner dolphins known.) All around me swam old, scarred bull dolphins, little
babies snug alongside moms and mating dolphins belly to belly. Frisky young dolphins raced
under me before exploding through the sea’s silver ceiling, only to whack down seconds later
wreathed in rainbow bubbles.

The dolphins moved with so little apparent effort, as if they were watermelon seeds squirted by
invisible pinched fingers. In contrast, I felt sillier than a fish out of water. I was a man off
land—goofy, elbows and knees hanging down while superior beings showed me what individual
movement could be.

Too soon, the dolphins vanished. No more symphonies of squeaks, clicks and whistles. They
simply disappeared. I couldn’t even see them when I lifted my head to peer above the chop. I
yearned to follow, to join their world, to learn a little more. But I had to go back to land, to
people.

Kicking the mile back to shore, the world was brand new and in Technicolor. A sense of

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obligation followed directly on the heels of euphoria. I had been given a glimpse into the world
of the Other. It had cracked me open. These creatures needed nothing from me. They were
complete. But all over the world, human beings were hurting dolphins and whales who were not
able to speak in their own defense. Why couldn’t I, as a human being, try to speak their voice
within the world of human laws and practices? I made a solemn vow to use my life to protect
these creatures from my own species.

During almost three decades now, the vow has led me into over 50 countries and many
foolhardy missions. It took me to Japan, Mexico, the Bahamas and Florida to cut nets to free
captive dolphins and whales. It has led me to many interminable meetings of the International
Whaling Commission, the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species and the
Inter-American Tropical Tuna Commission, where the stroke of a pen can doom or save
thousands of individuals.

Of course, those who kill or capture whales and dolphins don’t believe that their victims are
“persons.” They certainly don’t believe that I was recruited to the dolphins’ service that day out
in Kealakekua Bay.

Their disbelief doesn’t matter, because the dolphins’ gift to me on that morning has been so
pervasive and enduring. The realization that this earth is peopled with conscious entities
weaving a musical, sexual, emotional matrix of diverse form and mind has transformed my
world into a miracle renewed each day. My final gleaning from the dolphin’s gaze is this: not
only does our greater family of life on earth wish us well, but they have been waiting forever
and a day for us to join in the dance as full participants, instead of lonely paper tiger bosses.

I’m still a wallflower at this dance, just starting to get acquainted and learn the steps. But the
simple fact that I have been invited to the party fills me with delight.

In only 53 years, Ben did what most of us could only do in our dreams. During his career as an
activist, he slept atop old-growth trees to prevent logging, he scaled New York skyscrapers to
hang protest banners and freed dolphins from holding nets around the world. His first mission
as a representative of AWI was to jump in the Pacific Ocean to end a Navy research vessel’s use
of underwater sonic testing near Hawaii. His next major effort, the “march of the turtles,” will
go down in history as his most famous publicity event; hundreds of people donned turtle
costumes to protest the 1999 World Trade Organization meeting in Seattle. Ben’s final
adventure involved halting a huge seismic experiment off the Yucatan coast—twice. He was a
genius at raising public awareness, and he was no stranger to danger.

Between Species: Celebrating the Dolphin-Human Bond, edited by Toni Frohoff and
Brenda Peterson and published by Sierra Club Books, can be purchased at www.amazon.com.
More of Ben’s articles and photographs that commemorate his life are available at
www.awionline.org/benwhite.htm. Please contact us if you would like a printed copy of the
materials.

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They Whale They Couldn't Catch http://labanimals.awionline.org/pubs/Quarterly/05_54_1/541p18.htm

The Whale They Couldn’t Catch

Before Chief Ambrose MaQuinna of the
Mawachaht/Muchalaht people died in early July of
2001, he said he would like to be reborn as an orca
whale. Within days of his passing, a rambunctious
young male orca appeared in Gold River, tucked
Mawachaht/Muchalaht paddlers steer Luna inside Nootka Sound on the west side of Vancouver
Island,
away Canada.
from the DFO capture team boat.
Keith Wood
The whale was soon identified as L-98, or Luna, son of Splash (L-67), one of the 87 highly
endangered southern resident orcas who spend their summers off the San Juan Islands of
Washington (on the east side of Vancouver Island). But to the native people, he embodied the
spirit of their chief.

Although separated from his family, Luna was healthy and friendly to human beings. He would
greet people in their boats, sometimes rubbing against their hulls. Apparently disliking fish
finder pingers, he pursued boats that turned them on and nipped off the emitters when the
boats docked. But the Canadian Department of Fisheries and Oceans (DFO) rejected requests
from some whale huggers that they help return Luna to his family.

That changed when application was made to place a score of highly controversial and polluting
salmon aquaculture operations in Nootka Sound. Suddenly, the DFO decided that Luna was a
“problem animal” who needed to be “rescued” for “public safety” reasons. The US National
Marine Fisheries Service (NMFS) agreed and offered to help move Luna.

On April 5, 2004, the Canadian and US agencies agreed on a plan. First they would try to lure
Luna to the opening of Nootka Sound in time to reunite with his passing family. If that failed,
the Vancouver Aquarium team would capture Luna and truck him to a sea pen on the east side
of Vancouver Island to wait until his family came by. A satellite/vhf transmitter would be
clamped to his dorsal fin using titanium bolts in case Luna became a “problem animal” again
and would need to be re-captured or shot.

On June 15, the natives paddled out in two canoes to warn the whale. The new Chief (Mike)
Maquinna’s daughter Marsha held her hands out from the boat. Luna came and put his head
between them and stayed for minutes, deeply touching the paddlers with the connection
between the girl and her “grandfather.”

The next day, an aquarium team of 25 gathered to capture Luna. Despite the threat of huge
fines for interference, the native canoes were out again—doing their best to lead Luna away
from the pen. Over and over, the paddlers sang to Luna and tapped their paddles against their
dugout canoes to call him toward them and away from the three big inflatables the DFO capture
team were using. Luna would follow the capture boats for a time and then break away, rush to
join the canoes, breach in greeting and snuggle the paddlers.

After days of this cat and mouse game, the DFO was quickly losing patience. On the afternoon
of June 22, they got Luna to enter the pen but couldn’t quite shut the door before he wiggled
free.

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Finally, the combined force of the Canadian and US governments gave up in the face of
determined opposition from the Mawachaht/Muchalaht and Luna himself. The band celebrated
and offered to lead Luna by canoe around the southern part of Vancouver Island to rejoin his
family without all of the capture, trucking and tagging circus. AWI supports this obvious
solution although to date it hasn’t come about. In September, the band reached an agreement
with DFO to monitor and protect Luna in Nootka Sound, where he remains today, swimming
free.

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Center for Cart Horses http://labanimals.awionline.org/pubs/Quarterly/04_53_4/534p7.htm

Center for Cart Horses

by Martha Gutiérrez
Center for Cart Horses

In spite of living in the 21st century, Argentina is a

country where horses are still used to haul carts with
heavy loads. The economic and social conditions of
Argentina are bad. Much of the middle-class has
disappeared because of high unemployment. The
people who were already poor have duplicated their
poverty. The equines are the domestic species who Martha Gutiérrez with one of the rescued
are suffering the most in Argentina, because they horses at the Center.
are condemned to work under miserable conditions
for people who cannot afford to care for them.

The horses work though they may be weak, wounded or pregnant. Many are not provided food,
water or sufficient rest during the whole work day. The harnesses do not fit properly and inflict
injuries. It is common to see the horses without horseshoes or having to carry loads that are
too large for them to handle. They are pushed to work regardless and suffer by force of whip or
chain. It is common to see horses missing an eye. Veterinary care, including vaccines against
common diseases, is not given.

Regulations were adopted in Buenos Aires in 1960 prohibiting the

entrance and transit of carts drawn by horses in the capital city.
However, the law has never been enforced. After working for
many years on this difficult issue, finally the current government
of Buenos Aires listened to us and began enforcing the law. In
addition, the head of the city of Buenos Aires, gave us a piece of
land to create a site dedicated to mitigating the suffering of the
horses.

We inaugurated the Center for Cart Horses (CCH) on the 27th of

January, 2003, and since then we have received 470 horses. Most
of them have been sick and injured. Before we rescue them, the
equines have been worked to the bone and passed from one owner
to another until the animals are unable to work any more. If not
rescued, they are sold to a slaughterhouse to produce meat.

In enforcing the law, the federal police stop the violator, confiscate
Ortega was confiscated the wagon and call us so we can send an equine trailer to pick up
from a man who was the horse and bring the victim to the Center. The equines are held
exceptionally cruel when until the transgressor pays a fine. During the time the horses are
he was drunk and hit the with us our vet examines them to see if they have been the victim
donkey with a piece of iron of bad treatment by means of punishment or negligence. If the
daily. The neighbors animal is in good condition, the horse is given back to the
reported the situation after proprietor with a warning not to enter the capital any more. If
they realized the man cut there is evidence of cruelty, we take legal action, and we can
off a portion of each of retain the horses until the court case is heard and a judgment
Ortega’s ears and said he rendered. Once a month we offer a short course on equines for
would continue until the

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those who could benefit from education.

Recently we received a mare who had given birth

while working in the streets. Unfortunately, the foal
was premature and died. We responded by bringing a
cruelty case against the owner for forcing the mare to
work when pregnant.

It is difficult to obtain donations for this cause in

Argentina. Funds are needed for food, the
veterinarian and medications. Any help would be
greatly appreciated. Please send contributions to AWI
and note the funds are for the CCH.
Every two weeks the Director-teacher of
the Argentine School of Blacksmiths,
along with a group of his students, visits
the Center to care for the horses on an
honorary basis. Center for Cart Horses

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Keiko-Free at Last http://labanimals.awionline.org/pubs/Quarterly/04-53-1/531p18.htm

Keiko-Free at Last
Ten years ago I led a delegation to Mexico City to
negotiate with the amusement park Reino Aventura
to give up Keiko the orca whale to a coalition
dedicated to his release. Keiko had just become the
most famous whale in the world by starring in Free
Willy. When I saw him, my heart fell. He was
sway-backed like an old horse because he had
starved himself to shrink his Icelandic blubber and
stay alive. His teeth were worn to nubbins and his
gums bled from chewing on the sides of his tank.
Papiloma rash spread from his pectoral fins and his
dorsal fin had the trademark captive orca droop.

Keiko plays in Taknes Fjord-a long way
from a concrete tank. www.keiko.com
It was a testament to Keiko's resilience that he was
alive at all. Captured at two years old from his
family off Iceland, Keiko languished for a couple of
years in a dark warehouse in Niagara Falls, Canada
before being shipped to Reino Aventura in Mexico.
At a mile high with water temperature of seventy
degrees, the park's tank could hardly have been
less appropriate for a wild Icelandic whale.

After striking a deal to get Keiko out, the park

reneged because of pressure from the public display
industry. The last thing they wanted was for Keiko
to be successfully freed, like in the movie.
Performing whales and dolphins NEVER are allowed
to go free, and the industry's profits are seen to
hinge on the illusion that they cannot.

Two years later Earth Island Institute, Warner Brothers, billionaire Craig McCaw and thousands
of school kids pooled their money and moved Keiko to a new tank at the Oregon Coast
Aquarium. There he healed and wowed the crowds. When ready, he was airlifted to a sea pen in
Iceland, where he lived for four years. Periodically he was taken on escorted "walks" out of
sight of the shore. Finally, he just swam away one day, and headed, of all places, to one of the
last major whaling countries- Norway. There he lived in Taknes Fjord and was much beloved by
the local children.

Keiko's death of pneumonia on December 12 tripped the PR machinery of the captive display
industry-and Rush Limbaugh-to thunder that Keiko's rehab and release was a frivolous failure
because he still liked to hang around people.

Forgotten, apparently, was Keiko's condition when I saw him in Mexico. Captivity was clearly
killing Keiko. The average lifespan for orcas in captivity is about six years, as opposed to about
thirty for wild males. Also ignored by the critics was the importance of this one individual in
galvanizing the world to perform a kindness by alleviating his suffering. Free Willy taught us
that captive whales have families and miss them. Keiko taught us that we can accomplish very
difficult and expensive projects in the name of compassion. His dogged perseverance, and that

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of his sponsors, showed us that if Keiko could go this far, there is no reason that all captives
should not be considered for release.

The struggle to stop the cruel business of whale captivity was changed forever by this one
whale. I am grateful to have known him.

-by Ben White

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When Ethics Fail You, Just Make Threats

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"... if the permits are not issued by [the middle of this August],
these elephants will be culled."

This ominous statement by Ted Reilly, head of the Swaziland Big Game Parks Department, was
turned into a public relations mantra by the San Diego Zoo and the Lowry Park Zoo as they
fought to import eleven elephants from Swaziland. To gain public support, San Diego Zoo has
referred to the elephant purchase disingenuously as a "rescue" with machinelike regularity.
This ploy succeeded, and on August 8, 2003, U.S. District Judge John D. Bates ruled that these
wild elephants could be imported into captivity in the United States.

The Herculean battle (or is it Sisyphean struggle?)

to save the "Swazi eleven" was a bruising one, in
which the Animal Welfare Institute joined other
animal protection organizations in suing the U.S.
Department of Interior to keep the elephants in
their natural homes (see AWI Quarterly, Spring
2003).

The San Diego Zoo's website claims that

"Conservation officials in Swaziland have spent
years trying to find a place in Africa where these
elephants might be legally moved and where they
The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service has
would be safe from poaching. Unfortunately no
set a horrible precedent-elephant
such place in Africa was discovered." Rubbish. In a short time, we managed to secure a
families can be ripped apart to satisfy
commitment from the Chairman of Shamwari Game Reserve in South Africa to take the
the desire of American zoo executives
elephants and allow them to live in a natural but protected condition on the Reserve's 7,700
to import live elephants for display. Will
acres set aside for elephants. This area is fenced and maintained by anti-poaching patrols. In
Travers/Born Free Foundation
America, the elephants would share a combined four and a half acres of unnatural living space.
This was but one of many alternative locations that we identified.

The San Diego Zoo further maintains that it needs to snatch the elephants from their natural
habitat because "Such a captive population contributes to the hedge against extinction of this
species in the wild." But neither zoo has made any claim whatsoever that these elephants, or
any of their offspring (should breeding ever succeed-a risky proposition for elephants, to be
sure), would go back into the wild. If nothing else, both sides of this issue agree that elephants
do not breed well in zoos.

And while the zoos bought these elephants for a meager $132,000 contribution to the
Swaziland Big Game Parks Department, they have spent many millions of dollars on the small
enclosures in which the elephants will have to live. The true wildlife conservation priority rests
with significant in situ resource investments-this means millions of dollars to protect the wild
population, not increase the number in captivity.

These eleven elephants came from South Africa originally, where their families were killed as
part of a cull a decade ago. By Mr. Reilly's own admission, "They have all grown up together in
a herd and are therefore familiar with each other." Now, eleven have been removed from the
wild and then separated even further-four to Florida and seven to California. A simple, sad
question comes to mind: What if they miss their friends?

Judge Bates recognized that Mr. Reilly's statement amounted to a bold threat and noted in his
decision that "the Court does not appreciate such brinkmanship." But in the end, as long as Ted
Reilly continued to claim that he would kill the elephants, despite the offer to translocate them
humanely within the southern African region, the path was cleared for their arrival in the U.S.
This is not an example of wildlife conservation; it's the height of humane avarice and
arrogance.

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Keiko's Long Journey to Freedom http://labanimals.awionline.org/pubs/Quarterly/fall02/keiko.htm

Keiko's Long Journey to Freedom

Keiko, probably the most famous whale in the world, is in the headlines again. You know the
story: ripped from his family in Iceland's waters at the age of two by the greedy marine circus
industry, Keiko spent the next 17 years in prison-like concrete tanks in Canada and Mexico
until he was fictionally freed in the hit movie "Free Willy."

In 1994, Earth Island In the wild, orcas

Institute founded the never leave their
Free Willy Keiko mothers;
Foundation and the photo by Center for
debilitated orca was Whale Research.
flown to a specially-built
recovery pool in Oregon
in 1996. After years of
care to get him back to health and vitality, in 1999 Keiko was flown to his home off the coast
of Iceland. There he lived in a pen while being reintroduced to the open sea and pods of orcas
that feed in the area each summer.

This July Keiko's guardians led him out to sea where he quickly bonded with several pods of
orcas. By early August the whales were heading east with the herring schools. A small
transmitter fixed to Keiko's back showed that he was swimming up to 90 miles a day and
diving deep to feed.

Apparently enjoying his freedom, Keiko kept swimming east all August-nearly 1,000
miles-until he arrived at the coast of Norway. There, one day, he came upon a small fishing
boat heading into a fjord. Keiko followed. At the small town of Halsa in central Norway, he
was welcomed with open arms. Children swam with him. Thousands of Norwegians drove to
the fjord to see the friendly whale. The press arrived in droves.

Some Norwegians were not so happy, however. The ruthless whalers who defy the
international ban on commercial whaling don't want to see public sympathy for marine
mammals. One whaler said Keiko should be turned into meatballs. But children across
Norway and around the world sent out a cry to protect the whale. The Norwegian
government, imagining a public relations disaster if Keiko was mistreated or killed, quickly
imposed a 50-meter protective zone around Keiko and agreed to work with the Free Willy
Keiko Foundation.

There are even some signs that the Norwegian government understands the growing
opposition to the captivity of whales, at least this whale. In a letter to Florida Senator Bob
Graham opposing the Miami Seaquarium's bizarre request to go capture Keiko, the
Norwegian ambassador to the U.S. wrote: "In principle we are skeptical to keeping huge
animals like whales in captivity. In Norway there is no tradition for that. Also, we regard it as

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problematic in an animal welfare perspective to send the whale on the long voyage from
Norway to Florida. At the moment the whale has a freedom that makes it possible for him to
make choices. He is not in conditions that will stress him.

"However, we do not doubt that Keiko would get good support in Miami, but it would be a
great step back to put him in an aquarium again.

"Finally, I would like to assure you that the people in Halsa are now very much attached to
Keiko, and would not like to see him depart."

So it appears that Keiko will winter off the Norwegian coast, swimming free at last.

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