Circus elephants and Chicago aldermen behind the velvet curtain

You might think that the elephant, beloved mascot and lucky charm of the Republican Party for more than 130 years, would be an endangered species after this month's presidential election stampede.

Actually, the trusty old elephant is used to getting the hook.

But this isn't just another monotonous recital about presidential politics.

It's about pachyderms too; the captive ones that do tricks.

And how circus pachyderms and Chicago politics converge in something called a "bull hook."

This is circus month in Chicago (the actual circus, not the election). Ringling Brothers & Barnum and Bailey Circus is in town; now at the United Center after a run in Rosemont at the Arena-Formerly-Known-as-the-Horizon.

For eons, one of the most popular attractions at the circus has been the performing elephants. They wear goofy hats and glittery collars. They trot around the ring, get up on their hind legs and link their trunks to the tails of the elephants in front of them. For many people, it is the greatest part of the "Greatest Show on Earth."

As the elephants prance and dance, the children scream in joy.

What the kiddies don't know, because the circus people don't want them or any of us to know, is how they get the elephants to do those stunts.

On a Ringling Web site, trainers say their circus elephants are merely acting out what you would see them do in the wild, "such as climbing on their mothers and on each other, doing head stands for fun or manipulating things in their environment like logs and branches."

According to Ringling, "training is simply a matter of encouraging the elephants to do what comes naturally on cue to music- Anyone with a dog knows that training takes patience, praise and lots of treats, but the outcome is a secure, stimulating life for the animal. The same principles hold true for an elephant."

An investigation by the ABC 7 I-Team a few years ago found something far different and disturbing. We showed numerous behind-the-scenes videos of circus elephants being beaten into submission and we talked to former trainers and other experts who said that you can't get a 5-ton animal to do tricks by any other method.

Our news investigation and countless others the past 15 years have focused on the use of bull hooks. The pole with a sharp metal hook on the end is officially known as an "ankus."

As you might expect, circus officials recoil at suggestions they run an elephant Guantanamo and they hire teams of public relations agents to deflect such scurrilous attacks.

Circus folk prefer that bull hooks be called "guides" and they deny that the tools are used to torture and intimidate.

"No. If you watch the way the elephants respond to the trainer you will see they are comfortable both with the trainer and the guide and that the guide is used to lead the elephant at times when the noise of the crowd or distractions might cause the elephant to miss a verbal cue," is how Ringling explains it.

"In training, animal care experts might touch an elephant's foot with the guide and say 'foot' to get the elephant to lift its foot and understand the meaning of the verbal cue."

So, to use the description from Ringling, elephants are trained using "patience, praise and lots of treats."

Another species is trained that way as well.

Chicago aldermen. Some of them respond especially to the treats. They particularly enjoy the thin green treats.

Records show that about $40,000 in circus dollars and tickets have been given to Chicago aldermen and their political organizations since the city council began considering an ordinance that would crack down on elephant abuse.

Some of the money went to aldermen who have stalled a vote on the latest elephant-protection ordinance.

Before it was put off, though, even that proposal was watered down by the city council. Originally the proposed ordinance would have banned the use of bull hooks on elephants. The amended version just refers to any device used with the intent to cause pain and injury.

Intent is a hard thing to prove. You know what's happening, but end up ignoring it because it happens behind the velvet curtain.

Of course none of these public officials would ever admit being influenced by thin green circus treats or free seats with views of the elephants in the center ring at the United Center.

You don't see any aldermen wearing sequined suit cuffs and rhinestone neckties as they spin and dance on the floor of the council room for the TV cameras.

As I said, intent is a hard thing to prove. You know what's happening, but end up ignoring it because it happens behind the velvet curtain.

• Chuck Goudie, whose column appears each Monday, is the chief investigative reporter at ABC 7 News in Chicago. The views in this column are his own and not those of WLS-TV. He can be reached by email at chuckgoudie@gmail.com.