Gazelle : The Palestinian Biological Bulletin (ISSN 0178 – 6288) . Number 85, January 2009, pp. 1-20. | Page 8

8 with the debris, the net fragments can become entwined about their throats and gradually, over many months as the seal grows, the animal is choked to death in agony. On the Dalmatian coast of ex-Yugoslavia and its scattering of offshore islands, no more than twenty seals have managed to survive the onslaughts of mass tourism. Little is known of the Russian seals, inhabiting the waters of the Crimea, but they are reliably believed to be extinct. Further west, however, some individuals may still survive in the ex-Soviet waters of the Black sea, if only because on the Turkish side, up to thirty animals are thought to be still alive. Since the monk seal has become so shy and retiring, only one thing can be said with certainty, and that is that the war against the species and its habitat rages unabated, and all in the name of progress. As for the sanctuaries that benevolent humankind is willing to provide for the creature, they are few and far between. Ironically, it was one of the poorest Third World countries, Mauritania, which first opened a refuge for the seals. There are two more in Turkey and one perennially due to open in the Northern Sporades islands of Greece, far away from the eastern Aegean but an important colony, perhaps holding up to thirty individuals. Other parks are planned for Madeira‟s Desertas islands, for the Chafarinas of Spain and the Golfo d‟Oresei in Sardinia. But bureaucracy being what it is, some of these may well open to protect no more than a desolate memory, their last seals killed before the departments and committees and conferences have written and sifted through their mountains of paperwork. It became obvious that saving the monk seal would be one of the most formidable tasks ever undertaken by the conservation movement. So numerous, so diverse and so critical were the problems facing this persecuted animal that only a holistic campaign would have any chance of success. And it would be a fight against time. For decades, its plight had aroused little more than reluctant platitudes of concern. The monk seal was perhaps one of the most forgotten endangered species in the entire world. While Europeans were waging a bitter struggle against the slaughter of harp seal pups on Canada‟s distant, blood-stained ice-floes, their own monk seals were being allowed to perish in total obscurity. There was no public outcry, no great media extravaganza, no one willing to risk their reputation let alone their life for the species. What then is the cause of this neglect? One reason is the virtually secret triage strategy which has been adopted by the world‟s most influential conservationists. Swamped by a seemingly endless series of ecological catastrophes, and facing the extinction of up to a million animal and plant species by the year 2010, the movement, rather than reform itself, is now faced with the hideous dilemma of salvaging whatever life it can from the holocaust and leaving the rest to perish. It borrowed the triage strategy from the Allied commanders of the First World War who, during the hellish nightmares of trench warfare, were forced to divide the wounded into three separate groups; those that would be left to die since they were not worth squandering precious medicines upon, those that would hopefully survive without any medical attention at all, and finally, those that were deemed worthy of help. The decisions were pitiless, devoid of sentiment or favouritism. Even the best of friends could be left to die in slow agony. But in today‟s triage, it is Gazelle – Number 85 – January 2009