As Colombia takes a stand against cockfighting, a heated debate unfolds in Cartagena
In the heart of Cartagena, far from the vibrant streets and the 500-year-old fortress walls overlooking the Caribbean, a passionate crowd gathered, their cheers echoing through the night. It was a scene that could have been mistaken for a football match, but the reason for their excitement was far from ordinary.
The atmosphere was electric as the spectators witnessed the brutal climax of a cockfight, a tradition deeply ingrained in Colombia's culture. The white padded walls of the ring, now stained with blood, bore witness to the intense battle. As the male bettors clinked their cold drinks and collected their winnings, the handlers swiftly removed the defeated bird, while a worker swept up feathers and cleaned the blood, preparing for the next fight in a series of over 100 that evening.
Cockfighting, introduced by Spanish colonizers, has been a beloved pastime in Colombia for centuries. However, its days are numbered. A constitutional court ruling in September banned the practice, citing concerns over the violence and suffering inflicted on animals. The court established a three-year transition period, during which the government must provide alternative livelihoods for the tens of thousands of people who rely on this tradition.
Alí Viveros, a 38-year-old breeder and shop owner, expressed his horror at the court's decision. "Cockfighting is a tradition, an integral part of our culture," he said. "It's not just about the breeders, but also the vendors, doormen, judges, and many others who depend on it."
The national cockfighting federation, fighting to overturn the ban, estimates that there are nearly 10,000 fighting arenas across the country, supporting between 270,000 and 290,000 families. However, animal rights organizations and activists challenge these figures, citing the informal nature of the industry as a reason for unreliable data.
Andrea Padilla, a senator leading the ban, argues that cultural practices do not justify cruelty. She points out that child marriage, once considered a cultural norm, is now banned. "The fact that something is deeply rooted in a society does not make it morally valid," she asserts.
The court's ruling also banned bullfights, coleo (where a bull is brought down by its tail), and corralejas (where amateur matadors taunt bulls). A right-wing senator introduced a bill in January to reverse the ban, claiming cultural heritage. However, the proposal is still in its early stages in the legislative process.
The central argument for the bans is that cultural traditions should not be used to justify violence and suffering. Fabián Montes, a leading cock breeder, defended the practice, arguing that the animals are not mistreated and fight due to their natural instincts. He mentioned that scientific research has shown some breeds have a predisposition to combat due to centuries of artificial selection.
Despite the ban, Padilla warns of the potential for clandestine cockfighting. She believes that the government's lack of progress in providing alternative livelihoods could lead to a surge in illegal fights. "Laws do not erase cultural practices overnight," she said. "The challenge lies in finding a balance between tradition and animal welfare."
