Wild Mauritian monkeys like Aurélie should never be stolen from their homes and ripped from their families to fuel a costly and ineffective industry that promises to improve human health but rarely—if ever—delivers.
On the 15th of August this year, the immense iron-ore transporter
Wakashio grounded on the precious coral reefs of Mauritius, an
island paradise east of Madagascar in the Indian Ocean. The deaths
of marine wildlife resulting from this human-made disaster
reportedly included at least 40 dolphins and have brought
international attention to this remote ecosystem and led to
widespread protests by proud Mauritian citizens concerned about the
welfare of oiled animals and their invaluable marine environment.
Not in the news, however, is the plight of other suffering wildlife
on the island.
Aurélie, a long-tailed macaque, and her young daughter spend their
days foraging for fruits and seeds, and occasionally, when they’re
lucky, eggs from an unattended bird nest. During some parts of the
year, Aurélie is able to meet tourists and take offered bags of
pretzels or chips. But not everything is perfect in this paradise.
Aurélie knows that some of the monkeys on the island seem to just…
disappear.
Centuries ago, Aurélie’s ancestors were introduced to Mauritius by
sailors who probably kept the animals onboard ships as pets. Today,
they’ve been designated an invasive species by a government
committed to increasing non-tourism revenue, meaning these animals
aren’t entitled to the same protections as other species on the
island.
One beautiful October day, bright sun and low humidity—as if the
rainy season might hold itself at bay this year—Aurélie and her
daughter stumble across a most welcome sight. Fruit, nuts, and eggs
are piled neatly on the ground as if a feast has been prepared just
for her young family. As Aurélie approaches the food and takes a
first handful, a sudden crack sounds. She concentrates on the
presence of her daughter, gripped tightly to her stomach, wide and
fearful eyes looking up. Aurélie wants to assure her young daughter
that she will protect her. But after a few long seconds, Aurélie
becomes aware they have been trapped in a wooden cage. She vocalizes
her terror. The shadows, scents, and sounds of two men chattering
are the last things Aurélie notices before her distress causes her
mind to go blank, her arms wrapped ever more tightly around her
daughter. Large, strong human hands reach into the cage, tearing her
daughter from Aurélie’s grip. There’s screaming—hers or her
daughter’s—Aurélie isn’t sure.
This nightmare is only the beginning of a tragic story. Although
Aurélie is fictional, hers is the story of thousands of living
monkeys who have been stolen from the wild in Mauritius, Vietnam,
and China to be imprisoned and sold to support a multi-million
dollar animal experimentation industry. Unfortunately, the tragedy
of being stolen from the wild is but a microcosm of the life of
torture they will face once ensnared by the animal experimentation
industrial complex.
Following her capture from the only land and home she has ever
known, Aurélie and her daughter will spend time in a breeding colony
run by a company called Bioculture Mauritius Ltd. or one of its
competitors. Then, they will face being sold, crated for
international transport, and shipped through freezing temperatures
in Europe. They will be left on a noisy airport tarmac next to
trolleys full of stinking luggage and reloaded as cargo onto a
chartered airplane. After landing far from home, the United States,
they will be subjected to a detailed inspection and quarantine,
later reloaded onto trucks headed toward their final destination: a
university or another private breeding colony of monkeys stolen from
the wild.
These wild-caught monkeys—“F0s” in industry parlance—will be used
for breeding and producing the next generation of animals—known as
“F1s”—to be used in experiments all over the United States. Aurélie
and her daughter have become an infinitesimally small piece of a
system that keeps more than 108,000 individual non-human primates in
barren cages, where they are tortured in the name of science.
Perhaps most tragically, these animals are not suffering for some
“greater good.” More than 90 percent of drugs tested with some
degree of success on animals fail to make it through human trials—a
fact that is leading many researchers to question the use of animal
trials in the face of the urgent need to find a successful vaccine
for COVID-19. For one, Dr. Jarrod Bailey, Chief Science Officer at
the Center for Contemporary Sciences, sees no efficacy in using
monkeys to study the global pandemic.
“I don’t see any reason at all why any animal models, any animal
tests are going to be sufficiently predictive of the human efficacy
and safety of COVID vaccines,” says Dr. Bailey. “There’s just no
sign that’s the case.”
Why does animal experimentation continue in the face of such a
horrific failure rate and waste of animal life? The answer is
simple: because it makes us feel better that we try out these drugs
on non-human primates before we start giving them to humans.
Organizations are working to end the international monkey trade. A
decade ago, UK non-profit Cruelty Free International investigated
the breeding facilities for Mauritius and found many instances of
inhumane treatment. More recently, the organization has advocated
for restrictions on this trade at the Convention on International
Trade of Endangered Species of Flora and Fauna (CITES).
Renowned primate expert Dr. Jane Goodall has joined the chorus of
people urging the Mauritian government to end the trade of monkeys,
stating in 2015, “I am shocked and saddened to learn about the
capture and breeding of the long-tailed macaque of Mauritius, and
the export of their young for research. I have spent years learning
about primates: they are highly intelligent and form close social
bonds that can last for life. The trade [of] living monkeys and
knowledge of the terrible suffering this is causing has led to
increasing international concern and is tarnishing the image of
Mauritius as an idyllic paradise island. A number of people have
told me they will no longer consider visiting. I appeal to people to
contact the Mauritius Tourism Ministry and urge it to take steps to
end this trade—not only for the monkeys but also the many people of
Mauritius who benefit from eco-tourism.”
Rise for Animals is fighting to end the dangerous and inhumane
import of Mauritian monkeys like Aurélie for animal experimentation.
The organization is working to expose the trade of non-human
primates and track the use of these animals in research. Amy Meyer,
Director of Grassroots Organizing at Rise for Animals, says, “It’s
truly shocking that the United States still contributes to an
unsustainable, dangerous, and inhumane trade in non-human primates
because of the collective lie that animal experimentation protects
people from harm. It’s time we end experimentation on primates once
and for all.”
Activists in the United States may find now the opportune time to
add their voices to the loudening international chorus calling for
the humane treatment of animals. Wild Mauritian monkeys like Aurélie
should never be stolen from their homes and ripped from their
families to fuel a costly and ineffective industry that promises to
improve human health but rarely—if ever—delivers.