A REFLECTION: IS IT A DOG-EAT-DOG NAMIBIA?
The dialogue about consuming different animals, especially dogs, indeed makes for a fiery debate. Perhaps naively, I never expected the “Project Justice for Dalton” with the message “Friend. Not Food.” to attract such a storm. As the campaign draws to a close, I find myself deep in reflection: are we indeed living in a dog-eat-dog Namibia?
The petition garnered more than 7,000 signatures in 4 weeks, and the campaign featured nationwide in most newspapers, on radio and television, and on billboards. And social media… what a dog fight that has been!
But all things considered, the campaign is a triumphant success as it started a nation-wide conversation about how we treat animals, the likes of which has not been seen – with people joining the debate from all corners of our society, expressing divergent views.
The spirited debate quickly evolved to the ‘equality principle’: we consume non-humans, dogs aren’t human, hence, there’s no ethical transgression in consuming dog meat. A simple equation, if you will. Off you go, indulge in dog cuisine.
This perspective is surprisingly shared by many, including quite a few vegetarians. They brandish the question, “Would you eat a dog?” like a final gambit in a game of chess, sure to checkmate the opponent. The usual response is a vehement “no” often deemed irrational.
The proposition of eating dogs feels inherently wrong, not out of mere sentiment, but as a violation of a long-established bond of mutual respect and coexistence between dogs and humans. No matter the question, no matter the motivation, no matter the argument, my response remains: don’t eat dogs.
THE ANCIENT PARTNERSHIP
Dogs and humans share a distinctive relationship, not replicated with any other species – domestic, wild, or domesticated wild. This bond transcends basic pet-ownership, evolving into a nuanced partnership marked by trust, respect, and mutual benefits. It’s an ancient partnership akin to a dance, with neither leading nor following but rather moving together harmoniously.
Now imagine, mid-twirl, one dancer decides to turn the other into a kebab. Seems offbeat, doesn’t it? In the same vein, our relationship with dogs, framed by a unique understanding, makes turning them into dinner an off-key melody.
Our relationship with dogs began thousands of years ago when our human ancestors interacted with wild wolves. Drawn to human settlements by the prospect of food, these wolves gradually grew less fearful of humans. Over time, this mutual arrangement laid the groundwork for what we now term as ‘self-domestication’.
This was more than mere taming – it was the birth of a partnership. Humans benefitted from the wolves’ hunting skills, their protective instincts, and their companionship. In return, the wolves received regular food and shelter.
From their initial roles as hunters and guardians in our pre-agricultural societies, dogs have seamlessly adapted to our changing lifestyles over generations. Today, they serve not only as pets but as service animals, companions, and family members.
Ten years ago, a Weimaraner named Annie leapt into my life and sparked a passion that transformed me forever. I cherish every moment of our unbreakable bond. Annie opened my eyes and heart to the depth of companionship animals offer. She started a profound journey of animal welfare activism for me and her pawprints are etched eternally on my soul.
You could say the relationship itself could have been formed just as easily with some other animal – pigs, for instance. That might be true, but it’s irrelevant. Denying the existence of the relationship would be the irrational thing to do here. The relationship is a fact, and like all relationships, it comes with responsibilities. “Dog is a man’s best friend” is not merely a figure of speech. Humans as a species, are friends with dogs as a species. We are not friends, in this sense, with any other animal. Eating a dog is a betrayal of that friendship. So don’t eat dogs.
Can you teach an old dog new tricks?
The Justice for Animals Trust’s primary aim is not to dictate dietary choices, but to advocate for the recognition of animals as sentient beings deserving of humane treatment. We understand that cultural practices and personal preferences greatly vary around the world, including dietary habits.
In the context of our current campaign (Justice for Dalton), we focus on dogs due to their unique relationship with humans as pets and companions.
Our broader aim includes the welfare of all animals. Whether they are pets, livestock, or wildlife, we believe that all animals should be treated with compassion, dignity, and respect. This includes advocating for better welfare standards.
In many societies, including Namibia, dogs are primarily seen as members of the family, and the thought of harming them for food is distressing for many. On the other hand, a large group of Namibians argue that in the Ovambo culture dog meat is considered a delicacy. The question begs, is it possible to convince these people otherwise? I remain hopeful.
If you come from a culture where dogs are food and not companions, be the generation of change: don’t eat dogs.
Meat Politics
Now, you may argue, “What about pigs? They’re intelligent too!” True, they are. But here’s where the legal and scientific distinction steps in. Domestic animals like dogs and cats are recognised differently from livestock animals such as cattle and sheep. This distinction isn’t arbitrary but has roots in our shared history, societal norms, and mutual dependence.
Law and science differentiate between domestic animals, wild animals, and domesticated animals.
Domestic animals are animals that have been selectively bred and genetically adapted over generations to live alongside humans. They are genetically distinct from their wild ancestors or cousins. Dogs are domestic animals.
Human beings have domesticated diverse species of wild animals for three primary reasons: Companionship, Food, and Labour.
1. Companionship: Wolves, which are believed to have been domesticated around 10,000 years ago, gave birth to what we now adore as dogs. This domestication was driven not for utility but for an emotional connection.
2. Food: Then there are creatures like cows and chickens, which joined the family farm to fill our stomachs. These animals were domesticated to provide sustenance, whether as meat or in the form of derivative products such as eggs and dairy.
3. Labour: Lastly, we have the powerhouses. These are animals known for their capacity to do heavy work – like hauling goods or pulling heavy loads. Often termed as ‘beasts of burden,’ this category boasts members such as horses, oxen, and camels, domesticated for their muscular prowess.
However, let’s not confuse domestication with taming. Domestic animals are genetically wired to be patient with humans. A wild animal, even if born in captivity, might be conditioned to live with humans but does not undergo a genetic transformation. They are tamed, yes, but still essentially wild.
Animals that are domesticated but revert to living in the wild are known as feral. This term is used for domestic creatures that have escaped human control and have learned to survive in the wild.
And then we have pets, a term that transcends the domestic-wild divide. They are animals we choose to share our living spaces with, to provide us with companionship. They can be a domesticated dog, a farm animal, or even a domesticated wild creature. Pets embody our desire for emotional connection with the animal kingdom, regardless of their classification.
Alas, you can eat other animals: wild, farm, aquatic, donkeys, or creepy-crawlies. You don’t need to give up your beef steaks and lamb chops. But don’t eat dogs.
Lest you lick your wounds
In terms of health, well, let’s just say, eating a dog could potentially land you more trouble than just bad karma. The risk of diseases like rabies, trichinosis, and others zoonotic ailments could potentially turn your controversial dining experience into a hospital stay. Is that a risk worth taking?
One Welfare
I often hear the argument that poor people must resort to eating dogs or face starvation. This leads to an accusatory finger pointing at animal welfare advocates, arguing we’re prioritising dogs over humans. This critique brings us to an important concept: One Welfare.
One Welfare recognises the interconnectedness of animal welfare, human wellbeing, and the environment. It champions the idea that advancements in one aspect should not compromise the others; instead, they should be synergistic. When we advocate for dogs or any animal’s welfare, we are not negating or dismissing the importance of human welfare. Quite the contrary, I wholeheartedly believe the two are intrinsically connected.
In extreme survival situations where other options are scarce, ethical dilemmas indeed arise. It is critical to remember that these are exceptions, not norms. When it’s a matter of life and death, ethical absolutism may not apply, but this doesn’t discount the broader argument against routine consumption of dogs.
That said, it’s essential to acknowledge the systemic issue of food insecurity and malnutrition that often underlies these survival arguments. We must work towards sustainable solutions to address these challenges. It is not enough to argue about which animals should be eaten while turning a blind eye to the root causes of food scarcity.
We need systemic changes so that all Namibians have access to sufficient and nutritious food sources. In the same vein, we should strive to establish systems that respect the welfare of all animals, not just pets. This includes ethical treatment of livestock, and wildlife conservation, and reducing the necessity for people to resort to choices that compromise animal welfare.
One Welfare aims to harmonise the welfare of humans, animals, and the environment. It’s not a zero-sum game where improvement in one area must come at the cost of another. We can, and must, seek a world where everyone, human and non-human, can live with dignity, respect, and freedom from unnecessary suffering.
Therefore, let us reframe this narrative. It’s not about placing dogs above people or vice versa. It’s about recognising the interconnected wellbeing of all living beings, advocating for policies and practices that promote welfare for all, and understanding that our actions towards animals often reflect our attitudes towards humans.
So yes, don’t eat dogs.
What’s for dinner?
Circling back to the question – why can’t we eat dog meat if we can eat beef or donkey? It boils down to the symbiotic relationship we share with dogs, the legal and scientific distinctions we’ve set, and, frankly, the unforeseen medical bill you might have to foot. It’s not just about choosing what’s for dinner; it’s about respecting our unique pact with dogs, understanding the law, considering the health implications, and upholding our societal norms.
Eating meat or not, and what type of meat, is a personal decision often based on various factors such as cultural, health, and ethical considerations. But whatever our choices, I firmly believe they should align with principles of compassion, respect, and understanding towards all animals.
So, if you’re craving a hot dog, make sure it’s the kind that comes with mustard not a wagging tail. Being human doesn’t just refer to our species. It’s about our humanity, and that extends to all beings we share this world with, especially those who trust us implicitly. Don’t eat dogs. Instead, join us in celebrating their companionship and advocating for their well-being.
Yours in animal welfare,
Adv Ronel Lewies
Chairperson: Justice for Animals Trust
20 July 2023
