Translator: Michele Gianella Reviewer: Muriel de Meo
Most of the few things I know today,
I learned in a prison.
Not for being a prisoner,
but because I worked in a small prison-island
for over 25 years.
There, I met both human and non-human prisoners,
which will be our guide through this short journey
to peace and nonviolence.
But to get there, I'd like to start the journey from afar,
from another prison.
Greece, 1970's.
George Mangakis, a law professor,
imprisoned for political and ideological reasons
during the colonel's regime,
writes a letter from his prison cell
called “Erasmo and the mosquitos”
which then, with other pieces of writing,
went into a book called “Writers from prison”,
published by Feltrinelli publishers in 1998.
I will read you a meaningful excerpt.
He wrote:
“I would like to write about another friendship which began two autumns ago.
I see it as significant.
It shows the bond that can grow between two unhappy beings.
I was in an isolation cell for 4 months,
in all that time I didn't see a single soul,
only uniforms: guards and interrogators.
One day I saw three mosquitos in my cell,
they were fighting for survival,
resisting the beginning of the cold season.
During the day they slept on the wall and at night they buzzed around me.
Initially they exasperated me.
Luckily for them, however, it didn't take me long
to understand that I too was fighting
to survive the very cold season.
A drop of blood would saved them,
I couldn't deny them that.
At sunset, I uncovered my arm and waited.
After some days, they got used to me and were not longer afraid.
They came close to me confidently and naturally.
For this trust, I owe them.
Thanks to them,
the world was no longer limited to an interrogation room.
Then, one day, I was transferred to another prison.
I never saw my mosquitos again.
This is how we are deprived of our friends
in the arbitrary world of prisons,
but we continue to think about them often."
You may be wondering, why are we starting with this excerpt?
I think it's important
as a starting point for the short journey
we're sharing.
It touches the concept of community between living beings,
the need to share our presence with another being,
even if it's well outside our own species.
Prison matters to me, and it matters to us all.
Chains and prisons
are part of our individual and collective lives.
For these reasons it should interest us all.
My starting point, the stage and setting,
the place that put me to the test,
is the small island of Gorgona,
part of 7 beautiful islands of the Tuscan archipelago, a national park
in the middle of a great transboundary marine area:
the Pelagos Cetacean Sanctuary.
If we consider the etymology of the word “Gorgona”,
“Gorgo” means difficulty.
Gorgona really challenged me,
but at the same time has been great food for thought.
This island, a prison since 1869, has a particular characteristic.
Every prisoner works,
and many of them work the land and work with animals.
I met imprisoned humans and also imprisoned animals,
like all the non human animals that live to produce things for humans.
Both sentient beings,
both with the same spirit for life,
both with the same desires.
Except that humans eventually leave the island,
as prisoners usually serve the last part of their sentence on Gorgona,
while the animals stay behind.
The animals usually leave the island in the form of pieces of meat,
or transformations of their secretions, like, cheese.
In this journey I have met many friends,
and I'm in debt to many human and non human beings.
I'd like to mention Valentina, who is a very close friend,
and who is here also to represent the whole world
of animal and human guests on the island.
We call her the Zen-Cow as we have noticed
that she has some profound meditative and contemplative qualities,
developed while ruminating upon life,
and most of all, a capacity to live in the “here and now”.
So we always called her a Zen Cow.
14 years old. 7 births.
Another person to whom myself and many others are deeply in debt,
is the German doctor Samnuel Hahnemann,
founder of homoeopathic medicine,
who has given me many theoretical and practical tools
to survive and work in this place.
He provided me with knowledge, unknown to me as a western doctor.
This is the search for real causes which are always invisible to the eye,
that vital energy and strength
within every living being.
Essentially, the idea of unique, global health.
We are all interlinked
and interdependant
from an ecosystemic viewpoint, responsible for life.
All this lead to very practical action,
for example freeing all the animals,
because this action is the first one
to guarantee them a good health.
They are called animals precisely because they move around.
We have managed to achieve a good level of freedom
for the non-human animals in the prison.
As you can see here,
there are cows grazing, looking out to the sea.
There was a problem, however: all this effort,
quality medicine, looking after the animals' wellbeing
and the fundamental needs of every species under my care,
in the end nearly always lead
to them dying in an objectively violent way
within the walls of a small, standard-approved slaughterhouse.
Obviously all this raised questions for me:
what am I doing in all this?
What attitude should I have towards this?
What does my final judge say about this, my conscience?
How can I reconcile my ethical views about life
with my medical practice
to face the mysterious journey that we call life?
The fundamental questions, including: love thy neighbour.
Who is my neighbour?
I asked myself, and other people too,
Where is the boundary for the definition of “neighbour”?
Is thy neighbour only a member of my species?
Does it include non human animals?
What about vegetables?
Obviously, I consider
that my neighbour is everything that lives.
The diversity of non-human animals
shouldn't be defined in terms of superiority and hierarchy,
but in terms of opportunity.
Diversity broadens my and our mental,
spiritual, cultural and ethical horizons.
And most of all, how can I change my view
on non human otherness?
I'd like to mention a phrase from a philosopher called Adorno, who says,
“Auschwitz began when someone looks at a slaughterhouse,
thinking: they're just animals.”
I no longer want to think “they're just animals”,
because they're not just animals.
They're animals like we are, they desire
the very same things that we desire.
Yet, we have an ample legislative corpus,
national and international laws:
the ethics of my profession,
the famous article 13 of the treaty of Lisbon:
the Universal Declaration of Animal Rights.
We have important texts like “Animal Liberation” by Peter Singer.
We even have a book about the “animal issue”
within the Biolaw Treaty.
There is a lot of interest in some fundamental ethical steps:
to acknowledge the sentience of non human animals,
acknowledge their wellbeing,
protect their lives and their needs.
The Cambridge declaration of consciousness, 2012,
even recognises the consciousness of animals considered inferior.
Yet we continue to treat our so called “pets”,
by curing their illnesses and protecting them,
while “livestock animals” are cured and exterminated.
It is my duty - as I'm also here on behalf of those who don't have a voice -
to remind us all that we send at least 60 billion
non-human “livestock”animals to their deaths in slaughterhouses,
in addition to animals for other uses.
It's a daily and annual extermination.
We can't ignore the impact of livestock farms on our planet,
we have also heard about climate change
during this TEDx conference.
We mustn't forget this: they have a fundamental role
in climate change.
But since it's still a taboo, we hardly hear about it.
A documentary film that is currently shooting in Italy,
Cowspiracy,
deals exactly with this problem: the taboo of livestock farms.
We inflict every possible violence upon animals.
Every possible, thinkable violent act has already been committed.
And again, it is my duty to remind you
and show you just some of the atrocities that we inflict everyday
on non-human animals.
(Video) 8 Cruelties you'd rather not have known about
[A glimpse in animal exploitation industry]
[1. Forced feeding for fois gras]
[2. Castration without anesthetic]
[3. Grinding alive]
[4. Skinning alive for furs]
[5. Punched to death]
[6. Cruel experiments]
[7. Over crowded during transportation]
[8. Dumped alive]
[These are normal procedures]
[inside industries that use animals.]
Marco Verdone: We are showing this video,
like other videos and investigations
because if we don't see, we don't understand,
therefore we can't change.
Obviously I have asked myself, what do I do?
What am I doing here?
What is my role, my duty, what's my presence?
I consulted my wise friend Valentina,
and one of the first things I did,
the most powerful and immediate thing you can do even from this very night,
and is a non action.
I made a pact with my friends, my patients:
I said "I will never eat you again",
because you aren't just a food ingredient for me anymore.
You aren't objects.
You are living beings, sentient beings, just like me.
(Applause)
Thank you.
I witnessed, I have spoken, like I am doing now,
I wrote, I have tried to bring their intangible presence
by giving voice to who doesn't have one.
We have put, for instance,
a “Charter of Rights for the Animals of Gorgona” in a book called
“Ogni Specie di Libertà” (All Species of Freedom).
A book of many voices, including a piece
written by an ex prisoner of the Island,
and one written by the Director of the prison island himself.
In the first article we are reminded of a simple concept.
All animals are not things, nor machines.
But are, as us humans, sentient beings
that feel desire and fear much like we do.
Recently, we created an original document
which we called “The Decree of Mercy”.
In other words, we managed to grant some animals,
starting from Valentina, then extended to other animals too,
the status of “refugee” and therefore a protected entity,
a being will never be killed for food or any other reason,
and for whom we will acknowledge the full duration of their natural life.
Exactly what we would wish for ourselves and our loved ones.
Most of all, we considered them pioneers of the rehabilitation process.
Here we have Valentina and other companions on the journey.
All these actions have prompted a movement,
and a couple of important associations including LAV and Essere Animali
promoted a public petition that gathered thousands of signatures
to request all the animals on the island to be protected,
not just the few you have seen.
Another recent thing: some important people
in Justice, Communication and Culture,
including Luigi Lombardi Vallauri, Stefano Rodotà, De Luca and Tamaro,
people who you will have probably heard of,
have pledged their support for an appeal to permanently safeguard
the life of each animal on the Island,
sent to the highest authorities of the Government.
What is our dream?
Our dream, as the article 27 of our beautiful constitution reminds us,
is that if the penal system aims
to rehabilitate the convicted, then this rehabilitation has to take place
under principles of non violence, of peace.
Therefore, we dream of a prison without slaughterhouses.
But we also dream of a world without prisons,
or at least without prisons as we know them.
We dream of a world without cages and slaughterhouses.
We dream of a place, like this one, the Ippoasi Peace Farm,
a sanctuary and shelter for former livestock animals,
with whom we can establish relationships based on empathy,
knowledge, acknowledgment of non-human subjectivity,
the knowledge of the capabilities
and diversity of non-humans
which must be respected, protected
and, if possible, even internalized,
to amplify and broaden our vision of the world,
which needs a dramatic upgrade
for thousands of reasons.
Obviously, we would like to start from the latest generation,
human and non-human cubs.
I would like to conclude this short journey with two women:
one is Margherita Hack who wrote:
"I believe that killing any living creature,
is somewhat like killing ourselves, and I don't see any difference
between the suffering of an animal and that of a human being."
I see it exactly like her.
We started from a prison with bars
and I would like to conclude with another kind of bar: an empty cage.
I would like to conclude with a last thought,
of a Polish poet, recipient of a Nobel Prize in 1996,
Wislawa Szymborska, who wrote:
"Among the bushes he found a cage,
He took and kept it So that it stays empty."
I dream of a world with empty cages,
a world with no suffering, no exploitation, no speciesism,
and, allow me to say, especially today,
a world without terrorism. Peace!
Thank you.
(Applause)