Insanity or cruelty? (2011년 1월 15일)

I often wake up in the middle of the night these days and hear the imaginary cries of cattle and pigs. ``Help us!” they scream but there is nothing I can do to save them. The nation has buried 1.4 million cows and pigs, dead or alive, for the prevention of foot-and-mouth disease. Anyone who can sleep well while the animals struggle for life underground should be either cold-hearted or extremely overworked.

In my childhood, my family lived in the port city of Gunsan on the west coast. Every winter, the whole city turned into a white canvas of snow on which everyone left marks of one’s own. The most striking was the red dots left by bicycles carrying fresh beef and pork from the slaughterhouse. Adults banned children from entering the red brick house and its precincts for obvious reasons, but we went there anyway.

It was in the 1960s and we didn’t have any factory farms in Korea. Cattle were taken to slaughterhouses after working through their lifetime, while pigs came from small family pens. While pigs entered into the compound noisily, cows usually refused to come in at the main gate. People whispered that cows knew they were doomed. When cows resisted at the gate, their original owners, who were farmers, were summoned. They would caress and coax the animals and the latter walked into the brick house without further ado.

One day, I saw a farmer lead a cow into the house. He let the cow stand on a cemented podium. He rubbed her cheek with his chestnut hands. Then a man with an axe appeared from behind and planted it on top of the cow’s head. The animal collapsed with a thump and it echoed forever. That was the first and most impressive scene of betrayal and death I have observed in my whole life. I saw the teary eyes of the farmer, yet I couldn’t forgive him for what he had done to the unsuspecting animal.

It was much later that I came to remember the scene of death with less remorse and some inexplicable warmth. While the cattle were destined to die at the slaughterhouse, people cared about their feelings. There was a proper ritual of parting and ｅxpression of appreciation and sorrow that spared the victim unnecessary pains.

At that time, we ate beef and pork only on festive days like Chuseok and Seollal, and birthdays and death anniversaries of ancestors. There were few fat people though the word diet was never heard of. Our stomachs were not full most of the time, yet we shared whatever we came by. We believed we should share even a single bean.

As the nation became richer, demand for meat grew. In 2008, the per capita meat consumption of Koreans topped 35.4 kg, more than three times the volume consumed in 1983. To meet the ever-growing appetite for meat, factory farming was introduced for beef, pork and poultry. Now, people eat meat all year round, constantly worrying about gaining weight. The Korean characteristic has also changed from ``quiet tenacity” to ``palli palli” or ``faster and faster.”

People buy beef, pork and poultry from supermarkets as they buy milk, cookies and Kleenex; they are oblivious to the creatures that provide their flesh. Few care about how they live and die. The government’s burial of 1.4 million cattle and pigs since November showcases the widespread apathy towards the meat providers.

The government says the burial is for preventive purposes but the measure had already proved futile. Since FMD was first reported in late November in Andong, North Gyeongsang Province, preventive killing was done near and far, yet the disease spread to Gyeonggi and Chungcheong Provinces. Still, the massive killing continues in the name of prevention. The government is insane and/or cruel, if not plain incapable.

If humans are not affected by FMD and even infected meat is safe for human consumption as the health authorities say, why does the government keep on burying these animals to death? Can’t they be taken to the proper facilities and be killed by electric shock or other means causing minimum pain?

As many of the farmers and officials involved in the livestock massacre are suffering from symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), the Ministry of Health and Welfare has decided to offer counseling and treatment through the 158 mental health centers across the country. The sufferers are humane to say the least. If people bury over a million innocent animals alive and feel unperturbed, they can’t be humans, can they? I wonder if the high-ranking officials who ordered the burial of the livestock have ever been to the hell they are creating down there. If they haven’t, they need to go there once and for all.

 

요즘들어 한밤중에 눈을 뜨는 일이 잦습니다. 비몽사몽 상태에서 생매장되는 소와 돼지들의 비명을 듣습니다. 140만 마리의 소와 돼지를 파묻어 국토는 거대한 묘지가 되어가지만 제가 할 수 있는 일은 아무 것도 없습니다. 구제역 예방을 위해 오염 지역의 가축을 생매장한다고 하지만 매장이 예방조처가 될 수 없음은 이미 증명되었습니다. 지난 11월 말에 경북 안동에서 발발한 구제역이 전국으로 퍼지고 있는 것이 그 증거입니다. 그래도 정부는 매몰 방침을 바꾸지 않고 있습니다. 미쳤거나 잔인하거나, 두 가지 다이거나, 무능력하거나...

 

어린 시절 저는 도살장에서 멀지 않은 곳에 살았습니다. 소들은 대개 도살장 정문에서 들어가지 않으려 버텼습니다. 어른들은 소가 죽을 걸 알고 들어가지 않으려 하는 거라고 얘기했습니다. 소가 입구에서 버티면 본래 소를 키웠던 농부가 호출되어 왔습니다. 농부가 소의 얼굴을 어루만지며 눈물어린 대화를 나누면 소는 도살장 안으로 순순히 걸어 들어갔습니다. 소와 농부가 마지막 인사를 나누는 동안 어디선가 나타난 백정이 도끼를 높이 들어 소의 정수리에 내려 꽂았습니다.

 

소는 단 한 번의 도끼질로 쓰러졌습니다. 소가 쓰러질 때는 산이 무너지는 소리가 났습니다. 쿵... 높은 천장의 시멘트 건물 안엔 한참 동안 쿵 소리가 메아리쳤습니다. 소를 어루만지는 농부와 소에게 도끼를 내려꽂는 백정이 참 미웠습니다. 그러다 언젠가 깨달았습니다. 소에게 죽음은 피할 수 없는 것이었지만 마지막 이별의 의식 덕에 그가 품격있게 최소한의 고통으로 죽을 수 있었을 거라고.

 

구제역에 걸린 가축을 먹어도 사람에겐 피해가 없다는데 왜 그 무수한 가축을 살해해야 하는지 알 수가 없습니다. 어떤 이유로든 소와 돼지를 살처분해야만 한다면 전기충격을 쓰든 어떤 방법을 쓰든 순간적 고통만으로 죽을 수 있게 해야 한다고 생각합니다. 소 돼지의 매몰에 참여한 사람들이 정신적 고통을 호소합니다. 당연한 일입니다. 살아있는 동물을 생매장하면서 고통을 느끼지 않는다면 그 사람이 이상한 사람일 겁니다. 구제역 예방을 위해 생매장을 하라고 하는 높은 분들이 현장에 가본 적이 있는지 궁금합니다. 가보지 않았다면 꼭 한 번 가보아야 한다고 생각합니다.