In my 25 years of working in a sanctuary environment, I’ve seen far more pain and suffering than I could have imagined even existed. The bloody faces of animals beaten out of fear and ignorance; the frail, desperate cries of helpless infants who lost their natural mothers to the whims of humans; the fractured and twisted bodies of those hit by vehicles; and the emotional pain and confusion exhibited in wild animals, such as monkeys, who were bred for the pet trade.[teaserbreak]
Tragic lives. All of them.
It was probably around 1995 when I first received a request for shelter from outside the U.S. A capuchin monkey in South America had been rescued from deplorable conditions in which she was collared and chained to a post. The rescuers were doing the best they could with the frightened monkey, but she had been a pet all her life, so she couldn’t be returned to the wild with any reasonable chance of survival (and there were no sanctuaries in the area). When they reached out for assistance, I didn’t hesitate.
Little did I know at the time just how strongly our hands were tied.
While many species of wild animals from outside our boundaries receive respite in the U.S., nonhuman primates receive none. That doesn’t mean they can’t be brought into the U.S.—they can—but not for sanctuary. While a lion, or tiger, or just about any species of ungulate can be imported and placed in a sanctuary or environment that promotes a high quality of life, primates cannot. They can only be legally imported into the U.S. for a limited and narrowly-defined set of criteria. Per regulations from Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), a nonhuman primate can only be imported for scientific, educational, or exhibition purposes.
I called CDC in an attempt to help the long-suffering capuchin, but there was no give. She simply could not be brought into the U.S. without qualifying for one of the importation categories.
I never knew what happened to that poor little monkey.
Years later, in 2009, I received an email requesting emergency assistance for two male hamadryas baboons recently rescued from horrible conditions at a small zoo in Lebanon. The rescue organization there on the ground could cover the costs of transport and any required permits for the two baboons, but the only sanctuary they could find that might be able to help was the Born Free USA Primate Sanctuary.
I remembered the previous troubles I had importing from outside the U.S. and double-checked the CDC regulations, hoping for a change in import requirements. But, sadly, it was still the same; if you are in the business of using, experimenting, or displaying primates, then you can import them. If you want to rescue and import a primate for humane reasons, the answer is a resounding “no!”
The regulations even prohibit the transfer of a legally imported primate to any entity or for any purpose other than that for which he or she was originally imported. So, no way to ask a zoo to handle importation and then donate to a sanctuary, as that would be a violation.
Unfortunately, the Born Free USA Primate Sanctuary has received numerous foreign requests for assistance since 2009, but has not been able to assist due to the existing archaic regulations.
While I respect the CDC’s intent to reduce the potential for the spread of disease from outside the U.S., it does not create any additional risk to allow an amendment to the regulations that would permit accredited sanctuaries to import for humane reasons. Sanctuaries importing primates would still be required to follow the same stringent quarantine regulations as those who exploit them.
Some believe that allowing importation for humane reasons would open the “flood gates”—that so many primates would enter the country that there would be no space available to help the at-risk and needy primates who are already here in the U.S.
I don’t think so.
First, the importation and quarantine process is very expensive and exacting, and it would take significant funding to provide for a single primate (much less large groups) to pass through the process. If there isn’t worldwide support, it simply cannot happen, because a primate entering the U.S. for sanctuary will never be forced to pay his or her way—unlike those who utilize them for profit—so there is no financial incentive for sanctuaries to import large numbers of primates (despite the fact that so many need assistance).
Second, as far as I know, all legitimate sanctuaries are already at capacity, and we all fundraise from the same sources. So, this isn’t a matter of taking up vacancies that would otherwise be filled by U.S. primates, but rather a situation in which all sanctuaries need an additional infusion of funds in order to provide for more primates—regardless of where they come from.
Funding generated through worldwide appeals to assist a “foreign” primate is likely to provide much-needed funds that could help sanctuaries build enclosures and habitat that would actually allow for more U.S. primates to be helped, not fewer.
Finally, I know a thing or two about pain and suffering. I also know a good deal about surviving and reclaiming lost lives. I know how wondrous it is to witness a tortured life’s first steps toward healing: how amazed I continue to be at the innate drive and desire to survive (and, when given an opportunity, to flourish). I also know there are many lives that hang in the balance each day, human and animal, and I believe our greatest collective struggle is to embrace our proper place in the world and promote an ideology that allows all life to prosper.
The baboon in Lebanon is no less worthy of compassion than the capuchin kept as a pet in the U.S. His pain is no greater or lesser because of his geographical location. It is this, more than any other factor, that keeps us pressing for change.
For the primates,
Tim