The Miami Seaquarium, a privately owned oceanarium in South Florida, has announced that it intends to free — to return to the wild — an orca captured in 1970. The orca, a 57-year-old female known as both “Lolita” and “Tokitae” (after a common greeting in the Coast Salish languages) to her captors, and as Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut to Indigenous advocates for her freedom, was captured along with several other young orca as an adolescent in a poaching raid in the northern Pacific. She was transported to Miami and sold to the Miami Seaquarium. Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut was the only orca captured in that raid who survived.
The announcement of her forthcoming release follows the orca’s belated “retirement” last year. Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut is the second-oldest known living orca in the world.
The Miami Seaquarium, its parent firm, the Dolphin Company, and that firm’s owner and CEO, Mexican multimillionaire Eduardo Albor, are hailing the announcement as a big win for animal rights activism. Albor has associated himself and his company with billionaire-funded nonprofit corporation Friends of Toki. He presents himself to the public as a concerned philanthropist, environmentalist, and animal lover.
The truth of the matter is that Albor is, first and foremost, a capitalist — a profiteer — and that his decision to release Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut was made, first and foremost, because holding her in captivity is no longer profitable. She is too old to continue performing; the stress has undoubtedly shortened her lifespan, and would kill her if she were forced to continue. Her death by overwork would doubtless bring a wave of negative publicity crashing down on the Miami Seaquarium and its owner, damaging the company’s public image and, ultimately, hurting its bottom line. Now, after decades of profiting from her misery, the firm that owns Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut has agreed to release her. This is not charity. This is not justice. This is a public relations stunt.Meanwhile, since 2018, far in the “background” of the corporate media buzz surrounding the “philanthropic” pursuits of “concerned” capitalists, an Indigenous-led campaign for Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut’s freedom has carried on, gaining international support. The campaign is directed by the Lummi Nation through their nonprofit organization Sacred Sea. The Lummi, also known as the Lhaq’temish, are a federally recognized tribe native to a part of the Salish Coast, with a reservation in present-day Whatcom County, Washington. The goal of Sacred Sea’s campaign is to “right the wrong of Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut’s capture, and safely and responsibly bring her home to the Salish Sea.” To this end, the nonprofit has prepared a “comprehensive” operational plan, summarized as follows:
Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut lives in a concrete tank that is barely bigger than she is. She cannot dive and swim freely; she cannot escape the relentless Florida sun or hurricane dangers. The chlorinated water in which she swims is devoid of all life. Killer whales see with sound, as well as with vision. Her acoustic isolation is an extreme cruelty, akin to solitary confinement in a prison cell far from home.
By contrast, the Xwlemi Tokw [Lummi Home] that has been designed and would be custom-built for her is a large netted structure within a secure and protected area in her natal Salish Sea waters. She will have ample space to swim and dive; the waters will be full of natural life. She will breathe the air of the Salish Sea, she will hear the birds, keep company with the fish, swim over kelp beds, feel the pull of the tides and currents. We believe that water is alive, and has memory. Her home waters will embrace her.
The Xwlemi Tokw will give access to spiritual practitioners, scientists, and veterinarians who will continue to assess and fulfill her changing needs. The Operational Plan details every aspect of the Xwlemi Tokw, including maintenance systems, long-term environmental assessment protocols, and on-site risk management.
Since the Lummi Nation’s 2018 resolution to fight for Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut’s freedom and return, Lummi activists and their allies have employed protest and public awareness tactics. Moreover, according to Sacred Sea,
In 2019, two individual Lummi women invoked the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) and announced their intent to sue Miami Seaquarium if the Seaquarium would not agree to collaboratively work out a plan to safely bring Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut back home to her family in the Salish Sea.
Whether such legal action would meet with any success within the white supremacist U.S. court system, dominated by capitalist and settler interests, is doubtful. But such “lawfare” tactics could prove ruinous to the Miami Seaquarium’s public image, and hit the firm where it really hurts: its revenue stream.
Fortunately for the Lummi Nation’s campaign, theirs isn’t the only potential legal threat the Dolphin Company faces.
In 2021, the U.S. Department of Agriculture investigated the Miami Seaquarium, and reportedly found that Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut was suffering in abhorrent living conditions. The water in her tank, drenched with chlorine, was “turbid” with filth, plastic, and chipped paint. She had endured years of malnutrition caused by the Seaquarium’s policy of chronically underfeeding her; her diet consisted of mostly rotten food, despite the objections of a veterinarian. She had sustained major injuries, including a jaw fracture, after being forced to perform dangerous jumps and somersaults, despite her advanced age. She was provided with no shelter from the oppressive Miami sun, which, in addition to painful overheating, can damage orcas’ eyes.
The protesting veterinarian would be fired by Miami Seaquarium shortly after the USDA’s report on Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut’s living conditions was published.
Now, in 2023, the Dolphin Company has at last agreed to cooperate in implementing the Lummi Nation’s “operational plan” for Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut’s rehabilitation and rematriation to the Salish Coast. In all likelihood, mounting pressure from multiple sides was the true impetus for the Miami Seaquarium’s sudden “ethical” awakening. Capitalists know no other morality than the profit-motive.
The announcement of Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut’s forthcoming release and reintroduction to her northern Pacific birthplace has again brought into the light that the horrific abuses of capitalism extend not only to humans and livestock animals, but also to any animal, no matter how rare or remote, that the capitalists can harness and exploit for profit.
All available evidence from scientific research indicates that orcas are sentient. They have magnificently complex social structures, rivaled in the organic world only by simian primates and elephants. They feel, by all appearances, a range of complicated and nuanced emotions and have intricate interpersonal bonds. They communicate with each other in something resembling language, and separate pods (small social units) even have varieties of this “language” resembling unique dialects. They are capable of abstract thought and planning, and of applying elementary logic and mathematics in novel ways in order to solve problems. They cooperate in teams when hunting, quite literally “herding” and corralling schools of prey fish, in a method known as “carousel feeding,” similar to how human hunters might pursue herds of deer or bison. They evidently have long memories, as pods can navigate thousands of miles of ocean together to complete regular migrations. Mothers affectionately sing to their calves, passing down “pod songs,” unique to each social unit, that the newborns remember and recite for the rest of their lives. The orca’s enormous, highly developed brain contains spindle neurons, a rare class of neurons associated with intelligence, found only in hominid apes (including humans), some monkeys, raccoons, and elephants. Most males live for 30 to 60 years; most females, 50 to 80 years, with some recorded living into their early 100’s.
While we believe that we should avoid anthropomorphizing (that is, reading human traits into nonhuman animals), it is difficult to deny that we can see many aspects of ourselves — our human minds, emotions, relationships, and societies — reflected in these animals. We can only speculate about the subjectivity, the mind, the internal life of an orca (in other words, what it is really like to be an orca, from her own perspective), but it seems undeniable that orcas, as with some other nonhuman animals, are endowed, in their own ways, with sentience.In a 2021 article, Lummi Nation leaders Raynell Morris and Ellie Kinley discuss the “people below the waves” in strikingly empathetic terms — terms of relatedness:
Our teachings hold that we have kinship bonds — as well as cultural and spiritual ties — to a particular clan of killer whales who live in the Salish Sea. They are our relatives, and so we call the J, K, and L pods of the Southern Resident orcas by their Lummi family name, Sk’aliCh’elh (Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut means “daughter of Sk’aliCh’elh”).
We are taught that our Lummi and Sk’aliCh’elh families mirror each other. Our connection to the Salish Sea defines our people, as it does with the orcas. Salmon is essential to our identity and survival, as it is with the orcas. Our Lummi notion of “self” is inseparable from kinship and community; so, too, it is with the orcas. Family is sacred to us all…
In the 1960s and ’70s, about one-third of the Southern Resident orca population was captured and sold to aquariums and theme parks. For several decades, many of our own Lummi children were taken and sent away to boarding schools and foster care. Bringing those children back into our families and community has been healing. Sk’aliCh’elh children were sold to marine parks, where most of them died.
The authors also relate a heart-wrenching account:
This past spring, Lummi tribal members traveled to Miami and joined with members of the Seminole tribe, on whose homeland the Seaquarium is built, along with a nontribal filmmaker. After paying for their tickets to see “Lolita,” they took their seats in Whale Stadium, the arena surrounding Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut’s tank. The tribal members began to sing, drum, rattle, and pray. Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut began her routine. The filmmaker, who had attended and recorded previous shows, noticed that Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut was not responding to the trainer’s cues as usual. She would not perform. Many people have spoken for her, but we believe that this time, in the presence of ceremony, she was speaking for herself.
Despite their sentience and our relatedness, when orcas are captured and forced into the inhumane and dehumanizing process of capitalist production, they, like all organisms, including human beings, are reduced to mere objects — commodities, profit-generating machines, privately owned means of production. A whole entertainment industry has been built upon kidnapping orcas from their natural habitats, stealing orca calves from their mothers, caging them in distressingly small and solitary enclosures, isolating them from fellow orcas and depriving them of social lives, perversely compelling them to breed and to bear offspring, subjecting them to cruel experiments, torturing them in order to “train” them as show animals, and forcing them to perform for crowds of human onlookers.
For her part, Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut was forced to perform for over 50 years before she “retired.” Only at the relatively advanced age of 57 will she be allowed to return to the waters where she was born. Unfortunately, her release cannot be immediate: She first must be taught by veterinarian specialists how to hunt in a specially designed enclosure — for she was deprived of the chance to learn from her pod — and she needs to grow a substantial amount of muscle — for the conditions of her captivity, inhabiting the cramped tank to which she has been confined since adolescence, have caused her muscles to atrophy. Only after a few years of rehabilitation will she have a chance to find her way back to her pod.
According to Morris and Kinley, “Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut still sings the [pod song] her mother taught her when she was a baby. Family is everything to these killer whales. Bringing Sk’aliCh’elh-tenaut home will heal a very specific wound: It will make her family whole again.”
We hope that they’re right; we hope that their prediction is realized.
We look back with horror, and rightly so, at the depravities of mass entertainment in past epochs — for instance, the bloodsport competitions forced upon Rome’s slaves in the Colosseum. Future generations will look back with similar horror upon the depravities of our own, capitalist epoch, and their horror will be no less justified. Our grandchildren, or their grandchildren, or their grandchildren, and on, will wonder with disgust at how we could abide the caging and torturing of sentient animals for the purposes of live mass entertainment and, above all, capitalist profit; they will judge us and our times unkindly; they will feel immense gratitude at the circumstance that they were born into a more civilized, repaired world, a world in which such barbarities have receded into history.
Why are we writing about this issue in a Communist newspaper?
Communism means the universal and total liberation of humanity from all forms, modes, and structures of oppression — including the abolition of all colonial regimes and the decolonization of all stolen and subjugated lands. Communism means not only the abolition of social classes and of private property, and therefore the elimination of poverty and exploitation, but also the abolition of all other manifestations of social and interpersonal violence inherent to class societies — an end to all wars, genocides, deportations, occupations, plundering, and other violence between populations. This has been well established since Marx. We hold that the first step in the long historical march of Communism on this continent, North America, must be, and can only be, its complete decolonization — the abolition of the illegitimate settler-colonial empires occupying it, the U.S. and Canada, the rematriation of all Indigenous lands, the liberation of all colonized peoples, and the eradication of all racism. Moreover, we believe that Communism would be incomplete, if we failed to also champion the liberation of nonhuman animals, to work for the ecological restoration of our planet — our only home — and to safeguard the continuation of life as we know it in this and future eons.
Morris and Kinley write as follows: “Our late beloved hereditary chief of Lummi Nation, Tsilixw, told us that if we heal our orca family, if we heal the salmon, if we heal the Salish Sea, we will heal ourselves. We believe he meant our Lummi selves and also, broadly, our human selves, our species.”
We believe it is the duty of every Communist to wholeheartedly support Indigenous liberation struggles, and to unite these struggles with the struggle against the capitalists — the struggle for the emancipation of the working classes and the poor of all countries, without distinction of ethnicity, race, or religion — the struggle for socialism.