State-tolerated perpetrators: hobby hunting and ethics
And who voluntarily keeps company with this violent community, on whose account more than 800 injured and killed people fall each year? Only those who fail to recognize the danger posed by these trigger-happy individuals — whether because they are part of it themselves, because they watched “The Forester of Silverwood” a few too many times in their youth and carry a romanticized image of hunting in their heads, or because they once wanted to partake in the dubious pleasures of this crowd as a hunting guest.
We were out and about recently. Traveling by train across Germany.
We glimpsed spring green, forests, meadows, and cultivated fields. The scattered patches of woodland dotting the landscape were lined with elevated hides — known in hunters’ parlance as “Ansitze.” They crowded the view, flashing past our window in quick succession like so many menacing watchtowers.
Something was missing from these landscapes. It was the free-living animals — and this despite the fact that it was early evening, the sun was low in the sky, and the time of heightened foraging activity for many species had arrived. Hard as we strained to spot animals through the train window, not a single wild ground-dwelling creature was to be seen anywhere.
The armed “nature and animal protectors” — who like to call themselves stewards and caretakers of forest and wildlife — have truly done a thorough job, apparently opening up, or rather shooting out, landscapes free of wildlife. Intervening in natural processes with shot and lead, all in the name of “regulation.” Ecological balance, hunter-style!
Strange ecology indeed! But the intellect of these huntsmen and huntswomen — clouded by the bloody recreational pursuit of hunting, and at times extending no further than the muzzle of their shotguns — appears to be just as impervious to the real ecological connections and facts as it is to the controversial attitude of our society toward this archaic and elitist killing pleasure in forest and field.
Hunter's ecology: animals that must hide in the forest — if one can still call those scattered patches of larger tree stands by that name. Animals whose natural habitat is the forest edge, not the woodland that hunters have surrounded with their hunting stands. And the animals sense the threat: if you dare venture out of the forest, death awaits you.
The death of a sentient being by their own hand is no taboo for hunters — and increasingly not for female hunters either.Women who refuse to lag behind their male counterparts in the passion for killing. Equality and emancipation even in the frenzy of killing, in the thrill of the hunt! What you can do, I can do too! So much for the weaker sex!
They want to be part of the guild, founding clubs with names like “Weiberrevier” (Women's Territory). Yes, “Weiber” — that's what they are! Gun-toting women! Poor parodies of their sex, on both the male and female side. Hunting and killing as compensation for... well, for what exactly? A frustrated sex drive? A failed sense of identity? The hunt as compensation for the trauma of one's own mortality?
Kitsch-laden feelings of “adventure” instead of a cultivated, mature art of living? Or simply elitist status-seeking. The woman belongs to the scene — the green jacket, the antler jewellery, and the over-and-under shotgun as symbols of luxury, power, and sex appeal... at least in hunting circles.
And the non-hunting population looks away — no longer quite as reverently as before, since hunters are reminiscent of those in uniform (from head to groin, the huntsman wears his loden clothes), but protest is still a long way off in this society of dutiful subjects. Better not to stand out, better not to criticise, better not to show any civic courage. Best of all, to refuse any well-founded information about these green-jacketed figures, their behaviour, or their events.
We knew nothing! Somehow that phrase sounds familiar! The teacher, the priest, the professor, the business boss, the politician — many of the well-heeled and the very wealthy turn up in green attire, if only as invited guests at feudal hunts, now also known as corporate hunts. Post-aristocrats of the “wild” landscape, feudally minded lords and ladies for whom the animals replace the serfs no longer legally permissible, or the subordinates handed over to arbitrary power.
Or hunting as a substitute for war — since hunting is one of the last opportunities to indulge in killing outside of wartime. A release of natural, uncivilized instincts. What better way to do this at no personal risk than against declared “free” game?
In every respect a visible master-race mentality. Göring sends his regards! And then there are those who are ignorant of the language and fall for the hunters' jargon of these psychologically underdeveloped individuals, with their talk of necessary stewardship and noble sportsmanship.
These self-styled stewards and caretakers are not above posing as conservationists or draping their pursuits and killings in the cloak of ecological hunting — even though they shoot tons of toxic lead into waterways and forests each year … and into animals.
Save the German forest from wildlife browsing damage — that is a slogan long since debunked. Hunters do not protect forests and fields from wildlife damage; rather, they provoke it through hunting pressure and the resulting increased energy demands of the animals. Are these animals supposed to live on fresh air and love? The high seats stand at the edge of the forest! That is where, if not contaminated by human hands with pesticides and fertilizers, the herbs and grasses naturally intended for the animals grow.
But showing themselves there to eat what little is still edible has become life-threatening for the animals. Animals too have learned from experience. In the end, necessity drives them to the forest edge nonetheless. The trigger finger is very loose, tearing apart the bodies and legs of many animals without killing them — especially since these passion hunters are no strangers to a hearty swig from the hip flask they brought along. “Steady-shot water” is the motto. Before, during, and after — naturally. It is said to help with trembling hands. High-proof spirits as a stimulant, as a catalyst, and as a calming sip before and after the deed half- or fully accomplished.
Hunting is exciting — even from a hide. Driven hunts and banquet hunts certainly are. That's where the more physically adventurous gentlemen and ladies come into their own, along with their dogs. Democratic societies and their harmless pastimes like bowling, sailing, or lounging about aren't stimulating enough for the appetites of these individuals. Blood must flow. Without blood, only half the fun. Lying in wait, stalking, cutting down. Calmly delivering the coup de grâce from a handgun at close range — assuming one even bothers with the follow-up search. After all, they're just animals!
The hope that the huntsmen might thus bring about their own demise remains in vain, however, for the world is full of ignoramuses and trigger-happy natures, so that the thinning ranks are continually replenished. Hunters occupy positions where decisions could be made about the sense and nonsense of hunting. Key positions. These are the time-honoured paths of money, power, influence, and connections that override democratic rules — even though the minds of these gentlemen and ladies have long since switched themselves off.
So what? Politics was never a matter of reason. What is legal or not legal is subject to different rules of the game. Hence also the legal use of traps, baiting, the setting up of carcass sites, and even the shooting of domestic animals near homes.
Oh, almost forgotten! Sex naturally plays a role too. How could it not. The erections among hunters are easy to spot if you know where to look once the hobby killers have taken their shot. Huntsman's Arousal and Huntsman's Fever: climax at the trigger! Among the rifle women, something comparable will presumably occur in the lower abdomen, as dictated by biology. The hormones run wild: hunting fever! Archaic feelings in fashionable packaging. Rotten on the inside and gleaming on the outside — the 0.3% of people in Germany who are hunters for reasons of leisure and status-seeking.
A society that tolerates such psychologically derailed individuals without resistance — like a fate imposed from above: people who now shamelessly admit that it is about the “lust for killing” and “the joy of making a kill.” What moral strength remains in a society whose (book) values can be openly trampled underfoot by a wealthy minority?
More on this in the dossier: Psychology of Hunting
