The United Nations (UN) has described poaching, or the illegal hunting of wild animals, as an urgent issue that demands action. The critical need to stop the extinction of animals such as elephants and rhinos is a matter of international consensus. So why is it that poaching, and the threat of extinction it brings to animals across southern Africa, seem so impossible to eradicate?

It is often assumed that the problem lies in the inadequate response of national governments, who are either unable or unwilling to invest adequately in anti-poaching programmes. This logic underpins several fundraising campaigns which emphasise, above all else, the need for sizable financial contributions to conservation charities. However, poaching cannot be attributed to complacent or hapless local politicians: large-scale conservation efforts have been underway in since the 1950s, when Operation Rhino, established in South Africa, began a relocation and breeding programme at Hluhluwe-Imfolozi game reserve. Nor are governments unaware of the critical importance of preserving existing wildlife: Edna Molewa, the minister for environmental affairs in South Africa, has described poaching as a “national priority crime.” This verbal commitment has been reinforced by large financial commitments across the region: Namibia pledged N$179 million towards conservation in its 2018 budget, with substantial donations also coming from private individuals. However, despite the sincerity of these efforts, poachers continue to slip through the net: 1,028 rhinos were poached across South Africa alone in 2017, while in Botswana, long lauded for its tough policy on conservation, charities have described a recent “poaching frenzy,” with 87 elephants slaughtered in only a few months.

In the wake of this continuing failure, it has been argued that the solution is to raise the stakes for poachers – to equip rangers and law enforcement with lethal force and authorise them to use it at will. Examples of this “green militarisation” can be seen at game reserves across the region- a striking example being the Akashinga: an all-female sharpshooting task force in the Zambezi valley. Other rangers employ drones and other technology, and have received training from private security firms. However, this approach carries inherent dangers. The Kalahari San of Botswana have faced violence and repression at the hand of armed conservationists, despite their right to hunt on their ancestral lands being recognised by the Botswanan Supreme Court. Survival International, a non-profit that defends the rights of tribal groups, notes with concern that rangers are operating a “shoot first, ask questions later” policy amounting to extrajudicial execution. Furthermore, many actual poachers have responded to the increased militarisation of conservation networks by increasing their own military capacity – in the past decade over 1,000 rangers have been killed trying to combat increasingly well-armed and organised groups of poachers. This arms race is not just tragic – poaching gangs are destabilising. A link between poaching and terrorism has been hypothesised, though it is still a matter of debate: al-Shabaab in the Horn of Africa and the Janjaweed in Sudan and Chad in particular have been pinpointed as terrorist groups which acquire ivory and sell it for the armaments to fuel their campaigns, which in the case of al-Shabaab have included high-profile bombings in Kenya and Somalia. Former US Secretary of State John Kerry was therefore correct to say that poaching “creates instability [and breeds] corruption” across the continent.

The main problem with the militarisation, however, is that it is thoroughly ineffective because it misunderstands the mechanisms and networks involved in modern poaching. Like all industries, poaching is fuelled by demand. Wealthy individuals wish to possess elephant tusks or rhino horns as luxury goods, or seek them out for use in traditional medicine, allowing buyers to “flaunt wealth and success” as highlighted by Ronald Orenstein in his groundbreaking book Ivory, Horn and Blood. These individuals, especially in Vietnam: which has emerged as a leading market in the last decade, exert a powerful influence on poor rural communities in Sub-Saharan Africa. As the fourth largest illegal global trade, the trafficking of animal products is a lucrative enough business that many will be willing to risk the consequences, no matter how extreme they become. A single rhino horn can sell for $5,000 USD in Mozambique, a country where the average weekly salary is $218. In this context, poaching is a tantalising option.

The global networks connecting buyers and local poachers are both complex and nebulous. As professional criminals, many smugglers operate under the protection of fear: they are rarely reported to the authorities, and often use contacts with corrupt officials to avoid conviction or to drastically reduce their sentences. Transcontinental networks operating through middlemen are also difficult to uncover and check. Despite a recent spate of high profile arrests of middlemen like Thailand’s Boonchai Bach, poaching statistics have not significantly decreased – only 26 fewer rhinos were poached in South Africa in 2017 than the previous year. A successful response would require a broader perspective. Gretchen Peters, founder of the Satao Project, describes  these groups as “a matrix of different organisations that collaborate to move illegal goods” across borders. In this world, the arrest of an individual or syndicate simply creates a vacuum for others to profit from. In this vein, one of the largest networks been christened Hydra by investigators. An important step forward would be to block demand – but it must be done in countries where demand originates. Efforts in Japan, where the import of legally acquired ivory is strictly monitored, demonstrate that progress is possible in this regard.

One of the main hindrances to eradicating poaching is a lack of collaboration by organisations and governments. Samuel Wasser, of University of Washington’s Centre for Conservation Biology notes that new technology allows officials to trace the origins of rhino horns seized anywhere in the world, thus building up a picture of common smuggling routes and poached areas. But countries have so far proved reluctant to share this data. There have been some steps taken to fix the fragmented nature of conservation efforts in an attempt to build stronger transnational relationships and share ideas. Earlier this year, rangers from 14 different countries attended the first African Rangers Congress in South Africa. Similarly in Chad, the government has handed over management of Zakouma National Park to the nonprofit African Parks, who have harnessed communication equipment and ranger training techniques to minimise poaching.

The impact of poaching is not purely environmental: the cost to local economies is estimated to be around $25 million every year in tourism alone. It is therefore imperative, for both southern Africa and the world, that poaching is stopped. It is certainly not an easy issue to untangle; the ingenuity of the greedy and those driven by desperation cannot be underestimated. Nevertheless, the tools for preventing the extinction of many of our most majestic animals lie entirely within our reach. All that is required is an impassioned and coordinated response worldwide: one that harnesses technological advances and focuses on import laws and local communities to attack both supply and demand, without resorting to meaningless violence.