Humans and other animals

I AGREE with the central conclusions Paul D'Amato made in his column "Socialism and 'animal rights'": Only humans can politically organize to consciously change the world, and People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) is dead wrong to equate mistreatment of animals with racism and sexism or any other type of social oppression. Thus, talk of animal "liberation" makes very little sense.

However, while I don't believe this is the most important question facing us today, I do think socialists can say more about the relationship between people and other animals, and in doing so, can improve our dialogue with those who see animal cruelty as a motivating issue.

I don't pretend to have all the answers, but here are some things we should consider:

1. Even if the concept of political "rights" doesn't apply to animals, what should socialists argue with regards to laws that prohibit animal cruelty? Obviously, like almost all laws under capitalism, the police selectively prosecute poor and oppressed people. So, for instance, while we oppose the racist vilification of Michael Vick (as David Zirin has done so brilliantly), we should support legislation that bans pumping thoroughbreds full of steroids so they can compete in the Kentucky Derby in order to satisfy the egos of the super rich who dominate horse racing.

It seems to me that we have to contextualize animal cruelty laws and take them on a case-by-case basis: who is sponsoring the law and who is the target? Like serious drug abuse, animal cruelty is most often a symptom of poor and powerless people trying to cope with the degradation and pain they suffer because of capitalism. Socialists argue that drugs should be decriminalized and that a socialist society would eliminate the social basis for drug abuse (drug use is, of course, another question), but we also argue that addicts deserve free and quality treatment in the here and now.

I think we can make a similar argument around the question of laws that prohibit animal abuse. It should not be a question of punishment, but of treatment for the abuser, and rescue, if possible, for the animal.

2. Americans spend countless volunteer hours and make generous donations to the Humane Society and other animal welfare organizations. Many rich people do this to reduce their tax burden, but millions of ordinary workers pitch in because they feel a powerful kinship with animals that suffer abuse.

Of course, for those of us who understand that capitalism (as D'Amato points out) is the root cause of the completely distorted relationship between humans and animals, it can be frustrating to see this much effort aimed at saving animals while U.S. imperialism runs amuck in the world and millions of children starve. Certainly, we should forcefully condemn those (like some in PETA) who see humanity as a cancer.

However, we should also learn to relate to those who value their affinity with animals and seek to satisfy in their volunteerism a longing to fix something they feel is amiss, even as we point out that only a socialist revolution can radically reconstruct humanity's interaction with the natural world, and that revolution is only possible by prioritizing the fight against human oppression and imperialism.

3. Having grown up on a horse farm, I think there is something unique about people's relationship with domesticated animals. Of course, which animals are considered domesticated varies with time and by society, and we should reject any notions of cultural superiority based on how other societies use and relate to animals. However, there are a relatively small number of species that have, by their domestication, sustained a long-term interconnection with humanity that has left a mark on both.

As far as I know, dogs are the only species that will regularly defend a member of another species (humans) from their own kind. Of course, humans will do the same for dogs, even at the risk of death. Horses, on occasion, will stand by their rider in the event of injury, but the much longer and more intimate interaction between dogs and humans has made this relationship unique for many (not all) human societies. In fact, there is even a debate about the relative importance of the domestication of dogs to the survival of the human species, at least in some geographic areas.

None of this means that dogs have "rights" that should be counterpoised to human's rights. However, I tend to think that it does mean that all people ought to have the right (not the obligation) to benefit from a healthy bond with "man's best friend," and other animals to boot. In fact, one set of very successful and popular programs for inner-city kids revolves around the opportunity to work with animals...and, of course, these programs are being gutted by budget cuts.

4. All of this is complicated by the fact that humans are omnivores. We eat other animals and doing so was necessary to ingest enough protein to develop sufficient brain power to become who we are.

I see no moral dilemma in continuing this tradition. Of course, there are those who believe being a vegetarian contributes to changing the world. I used to be one. In so far as political vegetarianism is posed as a means to change the world (or at least to alter people's use of animals), socialists must point out that it is a dead-end. In fact, we should demand sufficient meat as part of a healthy diet for the billions of undernourished people in the world, and we should advocate slaughtering as many cows and pigs as necessary in order to ensure this.

Capitalism has destroyed the equilibrium between humanity and nature, and only a global, socialist transformation of the economy can restore it under modern conditions, not by returning to an earlier epoch, but by harnessing technology.

That struggle will be a long one. But in the meantime, socialists should take heart from the widespread sympathy that ordinary people have for animals. It is a sign that capitalism has not succeeded in completely destroying our ability to commune with nature.

There is something noble and important in this. John Trumbull, the most renowned painter of the American Revolution, portrayed the death of General Hugh Mercer at the Battle of Princeton in 1777. Mercer was a British soldier who went over to the side of the revolution and became a national hero in death. In Trumbull's depiction, Mercer is shown kneeling beside his wounded horse. A British soldier tries to bayonet the animal, but is stopped when Mercer grabs the bayonet with his hand.

Of course, Trumbull was not present at Mercer's death and could have chosen any scene in the battle to lionize him, but his choice as an artist, and as a propagandist for the revolution, imagined Mercer sacrificing himself for his mount. Thus, even in the midst of war, there is something between humans and animals that transcends simple use value and Trumbull focuses on this in order to praise Mercer.

Sometimes there is a bond...and that is part of being human.
Todd Chretien, Oakland, Calif.