Sentiment or logic?

Sentimentalizing elephants is all well and good if the aim is to sell more tickets to Kenya's world class national parks and game reserves, but is a poor foundation for policy-formulation or discourse. When I am dragged out of the comforts of my filthy city to visit one of these places where the wildlife lives, I succumb to the romance of "baby" elephants, "baby" cheetahs and, "baby" this that or the other. I will oooh and ahhh appropriately. That is what is expected of the tourist; that is not what a policy-maker or a conservationist should indulge in.

Kenya's elephant population is at risk. Africa's elephant population is at risk. The current ban on the sale of elephant ivory under the terms of the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora (CITES) has not slowed down the decimation of Africa's wild elephants. African governments, including Kenya, have blown hot-and-cold over the conservation and protection of their wildlife, including elephants: every now and then there is a crackdown on poaching, wildlife trophies are seized and stockpiled by these governments. Whether licit or not, these stockpiles have an economic value; they very rarely have a value to conservationists except as proof of the war on wildlife waged by poachers.

The decision on what to do with these stockpiles should not be sentimentalized. That is not the job of governments or their agencies; that is the job of politicians and campaigners against poaching looking for partners. But when it comes to the question of what policy to implement, what policy has worked and what policy has failed, a dispassionate examination and analysis of the facts is called for. Tears and "anger" will not resurrect dead wildlife.

No one denies the intrinsic value of wildlife. But in a political battle between feeding the people or protecting the animals, there isn't a government on this planet that will side with the animals over the people. That is where Kenya finds itself. It has finite financial resources. It has finite human capacity. Where best can it deploy its limited resources for the greatest impact on the people? Unless Kenya's human development index has suddenly improved, it is hard to imagine the Government of Kenya setting aside billions of shillings more for the purposes of wildlife conservation or the interdiction of poachers. If those world class national parks and game reserves are incapable of supporting themselves...

It is important, therefore, not to dismiss the sell-the-ivory brigade out of hand. This ivory has an economic value and a market price. It will stick in the craw of conservationists to admit this, but the ivory-belongs-on-elephants campaign has persuaded few of those who demand - nay, crave - ivory. Demand rises as the elephant population dwindles. These stockpiles, even if they do not depress demand or market price, will release resources for the better protection and conservation of wildlife. That is an economic argument that has merit and does not rely on sentimentality or coos at "baby" elephants.

There is another reason why it will be difficult for the government to dedicate greater resources to wildlife conservation: national parks and game reserves were established in lands occupied by communities who were displaced and rarely compensated. Whether we acknowledge this political problem now or not, it is inevitable that very few communities who rely on pastoralism or farming will view fondly the continued occupation of their lands by wild animals. In Kenya, land disputes last decades and they are rarely resolved peacefully.  Unless these people can be peaceably persuaded to abandon their claims to the lands on which the parks and reserves sit, conservation will not have the complete buy-in of communities and its success or failure will be measured by the growing stockpiles in government warehouses.