Cruelty - Up Close and From Afar (Essay by Bob Racine)

Until very recently I never gave much thought to what animals had to be put through in order to be counted on to perform for the pleasure of human beings.  Practically everybody of my generation has been to the circus at one time or another in their lives and we have all been dazzled and maybe thrilled to see those elephants and tigers and lions performing in obedience to their so-called “trainers”.  Did we ever notice that they did not fawn over the man who cracked the whip?  A domesticated dog, hungry for human attention and with lots of instinctive affection to bestow, bubbles over when laying eyes upon just about anybody who comes into view, especially when the approaching individual is the pet’s owner or even somebody halfway familiar.  Walk into any pet shop and you will be greeted by yelps and sniffs and scratching coming from just about every cage on the many shelves.  But in the circus we see no wagging tails on those performing beasts in the ring, no delight in the very presence of those giving the commands.  They respond only to threats.

The ones performing are not domesticated; they are captives who have been subjected to the cruel abuse and repression of their captors.  A few weeks ago 60 Minutes had a segment that featured an elderly married couple who have made it a life’s work gathering proof of such cruelty.  They have spent what must be millions to expose the racket, even to the extent of paying photographers to eavesdrop with hidden cameras behind the scene to record the deadly doings.  They have extended their investigation into many different countries. We were warned ahead of time that some of what we would see would be deeply disturbing and horrifying.  It was!  But the good news is that these folks have had tremendous success in getting humane laws passed and rescuing what must be hundreds of animals from a fate worse for them than death.  Barnum and Bailey’s recent abolishment of its elephant extravaganzas was surely one of the fruits of the labors of these humane and committed folks. 

In 1962 a movie, “Hatari”, featuring John Wayne, put in a successful bid at the box office.  Unlike other Wayne vehicles, this one had no villains.  The viewer visited an African game compound and watched as an assorted band of daredevils captures one animal after another for display in the zoos of the world.  Romantic comedy was mixed with the action; Wayne and Elsa Martinelli (owner of the hunting business for which the men work) fall for each other, and Red Buttons provides some sassy pun licks, but ultimately it all comes down to the dangerous business of capture and ship. Hatari after all is Swahili for “danger”.  I remember feeling entertained by the film, especially by Henry Mancini’s score that included the famous “Baby Elephant Walk”, but over the decades since, my consciousness raising over animal rights has reached such a point that I do not plan ever to see “Hatari” again or recommend it to any viewers.  The only positive thing I can say about it is that no animals are killed for sport – only one crocodile to save a member of the party from fatal attack.   

What we are not shown in the film are the conditions to which the captured animals are subjected.  I know they are confined to pens awaiting their new existence displaying themselves for curious citizens in varied countries.  But how can we not be aware of the fact that these denizens of the forest will never know freedom again?  Their fate is unknown, after we last see them, but thanks to 60 Minutes I have a rather clear idea of what it is.  

Animal rights are one thing, human rights are right there alongside of them.  There are thousands of refugees from war torn nations who are at this very minute being treated in like fashion, confined to walled-up and wired up encampments barely surviving, and many of them will likewise never know again the freedom that was once theirs.  We say that what is happening to these creatures is cruel, which it is, but the more I give thought to the subject of cruelty, the more it becomes clear to me that cruel treatment does not necessarily involve sadistic treatment.  Conditions themselves can be cruel – conditions that evolve from desperate and dangerous circumstances that nobody welcomes. 

The dictionary gives us essentially two definitions of the word “cruelty”.  On the one hand, it is identified as delighting in the pain of others, and secondly as doing what causes pain, whether the doer is aware of the result or not.  A cruel act can be nothing more than the making of a decision that causes needless suffering.  Pertaining to the first meaning, a sadist is a demented individual who enjoys inflicting pain.  Such a one does not have to have a political or practical reason for what s/he does.  The suffering s/he imposes is reason enough.  Watching another living being writhing and slowly succumbing to the numbness of death feeds some perverted hunger of theirs.  They glory in the agony.  Jack the Ripper comes to mind and numerous self-confessed killers on Death Row, as well as the Nazi death camps that were run by people hired to be monstrous.  But by far the most insidious form of cruelty is the second type, the unintentional, the suffering that emerges from what is conceived of as a high and noble purpose. 

Those of us who have seen the movie “Apocalypse Now” might recall the moment in which Robert Duvall as a military commander expresses delight in the smell of napalm.  He claims it gives him a lift, especially in the morning.  He bellows about it as he bends down to serve water to a wounded civilian right after his company has leveled the town and brought devastation upon the civilian he is supposed to be serving.  He is so distracted by his own waxing enthusiasm that he never finishes letting the man drink.  He does not seem to be pleased with suffering as such, but he is totally insensitive to what impact his actions have had upon the lives of Vietnamese peasants.  He wants to win the war, to correct something that allegedly needs correcting, but he might as well be delighting in the smell of blood, which for sure is just as keen in that morning air as is his beloved napalm.   

War’s and injustice’s cruel aftermath!   

How many of us decent citizens have ever been the recipients of cruelty as children?  I know I was.  I am not speaking of domestic abuse and violence; I suffered none of that.  I mean the kind of cruelty that one child can practice upon another on the playground or in the streets during playtime.  I was not a very brave kid.  I was terrified of rough play or physical combat.  Bullies were not unheard of where I spent my preteen years.  Some of what I underwent is such a painful and shameful memory that I could not bring myself to talk about it, much less put it down in print.  I saw what must have been criminals in the making, whether they ever stepped over onto the wrong side of the law or not.  My parents and I did not live in a very affluent neighborhood.  And I realize now all these decades later that the economic deprivations contributed to the shaping of many young minds.  A child fights back against such things and the inhibited scaredy-cats like me are an easy target.  If you get stomped on at home where you cannot defend yourself, you take it out on weaker playmates who you know will not make trouble for you.  The seeds of inferiority get planted in the child’s mind and as they germinate the seeds of superiority can grow up right alongside in a tug-of-war. 

What the two types of cruelty have in common – that which comes from close up and that which comes from afar – is the needlessness of it, whatever form it takes.  No human or social or political good is served when innocent people are savagely conquered and exploited.  It only serves to fulfill the demands of somebody’s warped understanding of their own or their nation’s or tribe’s importance and the supposed authority of their own brute strength.  Those immigrants who have found shelter in our country could tell us a lot about that.  We can only imagine what they have lived through.  Let us as a nation of peace and plenty welcome them and support them in their struggle to start a new life.  

To read other entries in my blog, please consult its website:  enspiritus.blogspot.com.  To know about me, consult the autobiographical entry on the website for Dec. 5, 2016.