MNSBC:
A Commentary by Rabbi Marc Gellman
Special to Newsweek
August 1, 2007
Original
Article
Aug. 1, 2007 - On July 14, Jeff
Tierney, a zookeeper at the San Antonio, Texas,
zoo was attacked and mauled by a five-year-old
male Sumatran tiger named Berani who had been
at the zoo for three years. In the slow summer
news cycle, this story was briefly reported and
then the focus of the media returned to important
stories like what is Paris Hilton up to. But
I am still thinking about Jeff and Berani.
My grandpa, Leo Gellman, was a zookeeper at
the Milwaukee zoo. My childhood was filled with
happy days feeding giraffes and monkeys. I wanted
to feed Sampson the gorilla and Tony and Cleo
the hippopotamuses, but Grandpa Lepa never let
me get close to them. He loved animals, but he
also understood what it means to be wild. He
would patiently explain to me that they did not
want to be in their cages but that we put them
there so that little boys like me could see up
close what they look like, how they move and
what sounds they make. Grandpa explained to me
that this was a deal we humans made with the
wild animals of the world. We capture and display
some of them so that people would feel something
for them and protect the wild animals that were
not in cages. I asked grandpa if he thought the
deal was fair. He thought and said, “It's
a good deal for us, and not such a good deal
for them.” I still think grandpa was right.
The zoo deal needs to be reconsidered. I just
finished watching the Discovery Channel’s “Planet
Earth” in all its high-definition spectacularness.
It does more to show animals in their natural
environment, behaving as they really behave in
the wild than any zoo ever could. True, you cannot
smell them, and true, there is an unforgettable
size and savor to elephant dung, but in these
new breathtaking images, we humans can see animals
without imprisoning them. Now I can already hear
the pro-zoo defenders objecting that if we can
eat animals, we can certainly trap and display
them. But animals do not have the rights of people.
The philosopher Peter Singer would call this
pro-human arrogance “species-ism”—just
another form of bigotry.
The tigers I saw spent all day pacing in their
cages, and it was clear that they were not happy
cats. The attack on Jeff Tierney ought to remind
us that these are wild animals that we foolishly
expect to behave like house pets so that we can
ogle them. They were not built to be displayed.
They were built, I would say created, to run
free and be wild in the few wild parts that remain
here on planet earth. We changed that for the
tiger we named Berani, and his attack was not
just an attack on the man bringing horsemeat
for lunch. This was an attack on everything we
do to wild animals for our convenience, for our
expansion and for our enjoyment. The deal my
Grandpa Lepa explained to me is a hard deal for
the animals, and I am not sure how much longer
we ought to defend it.
The animals in zoos do not behave
like their wild cousins. They mostly mope around,
and some of them, like the bears I remember,
have even learned to sit up and beg for treats.
Look, I don't want to appear to be a zoo Scrooge
here, but the enjoyment of kids at the zoo, an
enjoyment that once included me every weekend,
is not a reason to imprison animals. Do zoos
increase environmental consciousness and thus
help to protect the habitats of other wild animals?
I don't think so. As far as I can tell, the people
deforesting the Amazon or killing elephants in
Africa for their ivory have not been deterred
by outraged kids and their families who just
visited the zoo. I love what domesticated animals
like dogs and cats do for us: they teach us the
joy and responsibility of truly caring for a
living being who depends upon you and who loves
you in return. However, it is simplistic and
wrong to imagine that our love for Fido is the
same as our love for lions and tigers and bears.
Oh my!
I am of course pleased that the zoos of today
are not the cement and steel prisons I remember
from the old Milwaukee zoo (the new one is beautiful).
The cages have become displays, and every effort
is made to recreate natural settings. In some
new zoos, the people actually travel safari-like
through the animal habitats. Zoos have also helped
to save endangered species and reintroduce them
into the wild. However, not all zoos are new
zoos. Many thousands of wild animals are trapped
in horrible conditions. I remember traveling
in a country tormented by war, and I saw emaciated
lions panting in the heat as a rotten chicken
carcass became food for the flies. It was the
Jerusalem zoo after the Six Day War, and it made
me remember that every time I visited the zoo
with grandpa, I hatched some fantasy to free
all the animals from their cages. Once I told
grandpa of my plans and he said that Milwaukee
was not really a good place for hippopotamuses
to live.
I have no desire to lead an anti-zoo crusade,
but a part of me sees zoos as an act of human
domination over wild animals. There is a cute
little polar bear cub in the Berlin zoo named
Knut who is a huge attraction. The zoo recently
announced that the little show in which Knut
frolics with a zookeeper would be stopped because
Knut was becoming too big and too aggressive.
In time the crowds will go away, but Knut will
still be there in his cage, his wildness, his
very essence, now a public-relations liability.
We must learn to know Knut as just
a polar bear without a name and Berani as just
a tiger yearning to be free. William Blake understood
all this. He wrote what I precisely and passionately
believe:
The Tiger
Tiger, Tiger, burning bright
In the forest of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And, when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?
What the hammer? What the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?
Tiger, Tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
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