Philosophy of AR > Morality > Speciesism
Listening to Elephants. Breaking the Human / Nonhuman Divide
full article at: http://www.orionmagazine.org/index.php/ articles/article/2960/
by Cyril Christo
Published in the May/June 2008 issue of Orion magazine
AMONG THE HUNTER-GATHERERS of Kenya, whose last remaining forests are in jeopardy due to deforestation, the Ndorobo, or Ogiek, share tales about their people having followed the migration paths of elephants for centuries. They tell of olden days when elephants used to live peacefully with humans. This was a mythic time, when the Ndorobo would eat the olerondo fruit in imitation of the elephant and boil acacia bark for its sugar. Tales of being given milk from elephant cows in times of drought, and of the Ndorobo giving the elephants honey as part of their family, are part of the lore of the first peoples of Kenya.
It was from the pastoral Samburu, whose relationship to the elephant is perhaps unique in Africa, that we were able to glean something of a sacred and remarkable alliance. After many trips to Africa, in September 2007 Marie and I took our son, Lysander, to touch the ground of East Africa for the first time. We were told by Pacquo, a Samburu elder from central Kenya, that during the peak of the elephant slaughter thirty years ago, a herd of twenty or more elephant orphans who had lost their entire family somehow managed to make its way to Samburu country, having traveled for days to reach a village where they were given sanctuary. Today the extant herd of elephants in the Matthews Range is due to the Samburu's kindness and their acknowledgment of the elephant as an extension of their own being. Indeed, the Samburu as well as the Maasai have a concept--tenebo--which sees the coherence of elephant family dynamics as a model for human interrelationships.
One story told by Pacquo tells of a rogue elephant who was destroying crops in a nearby village. The elephant's repeated intrusions prompted the authorities to threaten to kill it if the problem was not solved. A Samburu elder faced the elephant and somehow communicated that people were going to come and shoot it if it did not go away--and within a short while it disappeared in the bush. The elephant never returned.
Another story, which goes back decades, has taken on the status of legend. It concerns a Samburu tribesman, Lesematia, who lost a leg in the British army while fighting the Italians in Ethiopia during World War II. Many years later, back in Kenya, Lesematia was walking on crutches at dusk toward his uncle's house when he noticed a pair of male lions stalking him, lions who knew he was a cripple. He thought to himself, What can I do? I am going to be eaten by lions. He pondered his predicament and realized he could call on his brother the elephant. He sat down and meditated on his elephant friends. Eventually, three elephants came and stayed with him, keeping the lions at bay, waiting the whole night next to Lesematia. When dawn finally arrived, and the lions had gone, Lesematia thanked his brothers the elephants as they returned to the bush. This story, firmly fixed in the oral tradition of the Samburu, expresses the uniqueness of the relationship between beings who have broken through the Berlin Wall of interspecies communication. It tells us, the dominant species, that we can either call out to the other, reach across the gulf that supposedly separates us, or reject at our own peril that which is not human.
Today, humanity needs to reach out to elephants and hear a singular voice, a
mind that has evolved with us and influenced us biologically, culturally, and
mythically, for our entire evolution. The trauma that elephants have experienced
over the last few decades is not completely measurable by humanity. Indeed, only
a few people have been willing to break the human/nonhuman gulf to insist that
elephants--in killing villagers in India and Sri Lanka, in raping rhinos as they
have done in South Africa, and in exhibiting post-traumatic stress disorder as
documented by psychologist Gay Bradshaw--are exhibiting symptoms of a much larger
malaise: the breakdown of not just habitat and family structure, but also of
mind across an entire species. This breakdown is symptomatic of the unraveling
of nature as we have known it. The irreplaceable bond we have had with the
elephant is an alliance we need to salvage not only for the sake of the
elephant's future but for ours as well.