 |
| A markhor seen on a glacier in this undated image.— Facebook@Hunter'sHaven/File |
The Markhor and the Price of Pride: Why Pakistan Must End Trophy Hunting of Its National Animal
Introduction:
A Goat on the Edge of the World
A wild goat stands high in the Pakistani northern mountains' crags, where altitude thins the air and snowdrifts whisper across ridges. Its horns twist like ancient calligraphy against the sky, curling upward in impossible spirals. Its body is lean, toughened by winters harsher than most people will ever know. This is the markhor—the national animal of Pakistan, a creature that carries with it centuries of myth, survival, and pride. The markhor is more than just a goat to Pakistanis. It is a symbol of bravery and resilience, a reminder of the tenacity required to thrive in unforgiving terrain. Markhor, which means "snake-eater," is a nod to heroic tales. It appears on national literature, conservation posters, and military insignia. To see one in the wild is to glimpse a piece of the country’s living identity. And yet, each year, a small number of these animals are auctioned to the highest bidder. Wealthy hunters—often foreign tycoons or even royals—pay staggering sums, sometimes hundreds of thousands of dollars, for the chance to kill one. The logic is dressed in the language of conservation and economics: that money from hunting permits helps local communities and safeguards the species from extinction. But at what cost? Can a nation honor its symbol without selling its life to wealthy outsiders? Is it dignity to protect an animal, only to allow its selective slaughter? This essay argues that the system of trophy hunting permits for the markhor must end. It is not only morally contradictory but also undermines the very symbolism of the markhor as Pakistan’s emblem of pride. By tracing the history of the laws, examining the role of money and power, and comparing global approaches, I will show that the markhor deserves not managed death, but absolute protection.
National
Animals and National Pride
The selection of a nation's national animal is not taken lightly. These creatures become representations of shared ideals and imagination. They embody traits that a nation wants to project to the world and to itself: strength, resilience, wisdom, freedom, or endurance.
- The bald eagle was chosen for its sharp vision and high flight by the United States. Killing one is a federal crime, regardless of population levels.
- India chose the Bengal tiger, fierce and regal. Poaching is treated as an attack on national heritage, with severe penalties.
- China treasures the giant panda, investing enormous resources into its preservation and never allowing it to be hunted.
- Kenya has the lion, protected fiercely as both an ecological keystone and a tourist icon.
- In each of these cases, the animal is not merely protected as a species but safeguarded as a symbol.
The laws that shield them are infused with cultural meaning. To kill one illegally is to harm not just
biodiversity but the nation’s identity.
Pakistan’s selection of the markhor was deliberate. It is not the strongest animal, nor the flashiest, but it is the survivor—clinging to cliffs, finding water where there is none, enduring winters where life seems impossible. It mirrors the grit of the Pakistani people, who have weathered hardship and still risen. So why, unlike the eagle, the tiger, or the panda, is the markhor subject to exceptions?
The
Legal Landscape: From Protection to Permits
The story of the markhor’s legal protection in Pakistan is complex,
spread across provincial and federal levels.
Federal
Framework
The Islamabad Wildlife (Protection, Preservation, Conservation and Management) Ordinance, 1979 provides the basic federal protection for species like the markhor. It explicitly prohibits the hunting of females and young animals. It requires certification for the possession of horns or derivatives. In spirit, it treats the markhor as a creature to be preserved. But this framework left space for provincial acts to regulate hunting. And in the provinces where markhors actually live—Gilgit-Baltistan, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, Balochistan—the laws evolved to permit something unusual:
Regulated
trophy hunting.
Provincial Systems
- Gilgit-Baltistan: Community-managed conservation areas that are subject to the GB Wildlife Act of 1975 are permitted to hold annual auctions for markhor permits. Usually only four are issued per year. The government gets 20% of the fee, while the other 80% goes to the communities in the area.
- Khyber Pakhtunkhwa: The KP Wildlife and Biodiversity Protection Act, 2015 allows similar trophy hunting arrangements, with hunts limited to elderly male markhors judged past reproductive prime.
- Balochistan: Programs for community-based trophy hunting that are similar to those in GB but smaller in scope.
The
Auction System
Each year, international hunters bid staggering amounts for a permit. In 2025, one permit for an Astore markhor in GB fetched $370,000—a world record. In KP, permits often sell for over Rs 60 million (about $220,000). The justification: these funds incentivize local communities to protect markhors. Instead of killing them illegally for meat or horns, locals see more benefit in keeping populations stable so that wealthy foreigners will continue to pay.
On paper, it looks like a win-win.
In practice, it creates deep contradictions.
The
Contradiction of Trophy Hunting
Here lies the paradox: Pakistan’s national animal is both celebrated and sacrificed. The symbolism of the markhor is one of endurance and national pride. Yet the law makes exceptions for those with money, turning the goat into a commodity for global elites. Imagine the United States auctioning off the right to kill a bald eagle for $500,000. Or India letting foreign royals shoot an old Bengal tiger. The outrage would be immediate, not just from conservationists but from citizens who feel their pride and identity had been sold. And yet in Pakistan, this practice continues under the banner of “community development.” The problem is not only moral but also symbolic. A nation runs the risk of reducing its emblematic animal to a price tag when it allows its emblematic animal to be killed for money. Instead of embodying resilience, the markhor becomes a luxury trophy, mounted in a villa thousands of miles away.
This sends a dangerous message: that national pride can be auctioned if
the bidder is wealthy enough.
The
Money Heist: Tycoons, Royals, and the Commodification of Heritage
The sums involved in markhor trophy hunting are staggering. When permits sell for hundreds of thousands of dollars, it attracts not ordinary people but the global elite: oil tycoons, foreign royals, billionaires. For them, the hunt is less about conservation and more about prestige. To shoot a markhor is to gain a trophy few others can claim. The photographs and mounted horns become status symbols—proof of wealth and access. But for Pakistan, this resembles a money heist. A national symbol is sacrificed, not for the survival of the species alone, but for the pleasure of outsiders and the profit of insiders. While communities may indeed benefit financially, the framing ignores the deeper cultural cost: selling heritage.
This is not conservation—it is commodification.
The
Argument Against Trophy Hunting Permits
Your personal view—that all hunting permits must be stopped—is grounded
in both ethics and national pride. The
reasoning can be set out clearly:
- The Markhor as National Symbol
A national animal should be beyond commercial exploitation. To allow its killing is to contradict the very idea of national pride.
- The Unfairness of Money
Only the wealthy—foreign tycoons or royals—can afford these permits. This creates a system where heritage is reserved for the elite to exploit.
- The Moral Contradiction
Claiming to “conserve” by killing is illogical. Conservation should mean life, not selective death.
- Global Tradition
Other nations protect their animals absolutely. The U.S. does not allow bald eagles to be hunted, regardless of population health. Why should Pakistan treat its national animal differently?
- Long-Term Identity
The survival of the markhor as a living, untouchable symbol matters more than short-term revenue.
Comparative Perspectives: How Other Countries Protect Their Symbols
- United States: Bald Eagle The Bald and Golden Eagle Protection Act (1940) makes it illegal to hunt, sell, or even possess eagle parts without a permit (and permits are never for sport). Penalties include heavy fines and prison. Even though eagle populations are recovering, there are still no exceptions.
- India: Bengal Tiger Under the Wildlife Protection Act, 1972, hunting tigers is completely banned. The tiger is seen as the essence of Indian strength and cultural pride. No trophy hunting permits are ever issued.
- China: Giant Panda The panda is a national treasure. There will be no exceptions. Instead, China uses the panda as a diplomatic and cultural ambassador and invests in global breeding and conservation programs.
- Kenya: the Lion Kenya banned all trophy hunting in 1977. Its lions are now symbols of tourism and national identity, safeguarded not as commodities but as part of living heritage.
Each of these nations sends the same message: our symbols are not for sale.
Why
Pakistan Should Follow This Path
Ending markhor trophy hunting would align Pakistan with this global
norm. It would treat the markhor as
sacred national heritage and elevate it beyond population control.
It would also:
- Strengthen Pakistan’s global image as a protector of its culture and biodiversity.
- Inspire domestic pride by showing that heritage is not for sale.
- Encourage alternative community benefits like eco-tourism, which rewards conservation without killing.
The markhor is deserving of life and not death for pictures and horns.
Alternative
Models: Life Over Death
Instead of trophy hunting, Pakistan could invest in:
- Eco-tourism: Guided wildlife tours to see markhors in their mountain habitats. Locals can earn from guiding, hospitality, and transport.
- Conservation branding: using the markhor as a symbol for goods that bring in money for communities, like sports teams, cultural events, or textiles.
- Education programs: Teaching children the markhor’s value not as a trophy but as a living symbol of Pakistan.
- International support: Seeking conservation funding from global organizations, without attaching death as the price.
These alternatives provide sustainable income without undermining the symbol.
Conclusion: Pride Beyond Price
The markhor is more than a goat on a mountain. It is Pakistan’s story written in horns and hooves—survival against the odds, beauty carved by hardship, a reminder of strength.To allow even one to be killed for money is to erode that story. It tells the world that symbols can be auctioned, that pride has a price tag, that heritage is negotiable. But it does not have to be this way. Pakistan can choose another path—one that aligns law with meaning, conservation with dignity, and protection with pride. Examples include the tiger, panda, lion, and bald eagle, among others. Because they are symbols rather than animals, they are not hunted. The markhor ought to be the same. To protect the markhor absolutely, without permits, is to protect Pakistan’s own reflection in the mountains.
It is to say: our pride is not for sale.