In defence of buffalo and bulbul fights

Nabaarun Barooah

(barooah.nabaarun@gmail.com)

The Gauhati High Court’s recent ruling to ban buffalo and bulbul bird fights during the Bhogali Bihu festival in Assam has sparked a heated debate that balances concerns for animal welfare against the preservation of a centuries-old cultural tradition. The Court struck down the Standard Operating Procedure (SOP) issued by the Assam government, which had permitted these events under specific guidelines. This ruling, which invokes the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Act of 1960 and the Wildlife Protection Act of 1972, comes on the back of increasing scrutiny of such practices as part of the larger movement for animal rights across India. While the legal position is clear, the cultural and economic ramifications of this ban warrant a more nuanced examination.

The tradition of buffalo fights has a long history in Assam, tracing its origins to the Ahom dynasty. This practice, which dates back nearly 200 years to the times of Swargadeo Rudra Singha, is deeply intertwined with Assam’s rural and agrarian identity. For generations, these events were not seen merely as competitions of strength, but as a celebration of the bond between humans and animals. The buffaloes involved were not wild creatures but domesticated animals, raised for farm work like ploughing fields. Over time, ‘Moh Juj’ became a popular festival event, particularly during Magh Bihu, where local communities would gather in thousands to witness the spectacle and participate in the celebration at Ahatguri.

What often gets overlooked in the animal rights debate is the role these buffaloes play in the lives of the people who raise them. In a region where agriculture is the backbone of the economy, these animals are more than just livestock—they are companions and valuable partners in the daily work of farming. For the farmers who breed and train these buffaloes, the practice of fighting is not about cruelty, but a reflection of the animal’s strength, training and stamina. Indeed, many locals argue that the buffaloes, which are treated with care and respect, have never died during the fights. The tradition has, in fact, evolved with measures in place to prevent harm, with the fights taking place under controlled conditions and with veterinary checks.

However, as animal rights organizations like PETA have pointed out, the very idea of animal fights — no matter how carefully managed — raises serious ethical concerns. The law must, at some level, protect animals from practices that could be construed as exploitation, regardless of the intent behind them. In this light, the Court’s decision to strike down the SOP issued by the Assam government is not surprising, especially in the context of India’s evolving legal and social attitudes toward animal cruelty. The Supreme Court’s landmark ruling in the 2014 A Nagaraja Case, which banned all forms of animal cruelty, provided a strong legal precedent that undoubtedly influenced the outcome of the recent case.

Despite this, an outright ban on these age-old practices may not be the best solution. Instead of erasing these cultural traditions entirely, a more thoughtful and balanced approach would be to introduce stronger regulations that ensure the welfare of the animals while allowing these events to continue in a more ethical manner. Rather than eliminating practices that have been an integral part of local culture for centuries, there is an opportunity to reform them, ensuring they evolve in line with modern ethical standards.

The case of bulbul fighting in Assam adds another layer of complexity to the debate. While the buffalo fights are primarily an agricultural tradition, bulbul bird fighting has religious and ritualistic significance. The practice traces its origins to the 17th century during the reign of the Ahom King Pramatta Singha and has since become a key part of the Magh Bihu festival, particularly around the Hayagriva Madhava Temple in Hajo. Local communities catch and tame red-vented bulbuls for the fight, which takes place after a series of prayers and rituals. The birds, handled with care and trained to compete for food, are an important part of the community’s spiritual life. At the conclusion of the fights, Swargadeo Pramatta Singah commanded that all the birds be set free and returned to the forest. To this day, the people of Hajo honour his decree by releasing the birds back into the wild at the end of the festivities.

Proponents of bulbul fighting argue that the birds are well-treated, not subjected to cruelty, and even develop a bond with their handlers. These birds are fed a special diet and trained for the event, with some even being given mild, safe intoxicants under expert supervision to energize them. The fights themselves, which typically involve the birds vying for a food item like a banana, are closely monitored to prevent harm. Many claim that the birds do not suffer serious injuries or fatalities during the event. However, the practice has faced increasing criticism from animal welfare groups, which argue that the practice, despite the careful treatment of the birds, is inherently cruel, as it forces animals into a situation where they are encouraged to fight.

Once again, while the legal position on animal welfare is clear, the cultural importance of the event cannot be ignored. Bulbul fighting is deeply embedded in the religious and cultural life of the region, particularly in Hajo, where it attracts thousands of spectators each year. Like the buffalo fights, bulbul fighting is not just about the competition itself, but the community coming together to celebrate their traditions and spiritual beliefs. The event provides a significant boost to the local economy, drawing tourists, pilgrims and devotees to the region. The influx of visitors’ benefits local businesses, artisans and farmers, creating jobs and opportunities for economic growth. To simply ban this practice would, in effect, erase an important source of income and cultural pride for the local population.

It is vital to acknowledge the tension between preserving cultural heritage and adapting to changing ethical standards. Rather than imposing a blanket ban on these practices, a more constructive approach would be to regulate them in ways that address the concerns of animal welfare while allowing them to continue in a responsible manner. This could include mandatory veterinary checks, restrictions on harmful substances, and strict supervision during the events to ensure that no animals are harmed. Furthermore, public awareness campaigns could help educate communities on the ethical treatment of animals, ensuring that these traditions evolve in a way that respects modern sensibilities.

India is a land of immense religious, cultural, and regional diversity, and practices like buffalo and bulbul fights are part of the rich tapestry of local customs. While animal welfare is undeniably important, it is essential to understand the cultural context in which these practices exist. The goal should not be to eradicate these traditions, but to ensure they are carried out in a way that respects both the animals and the people who participate in them. The forced standardization of rituals would not only diminish the cultural richness of the Assamese identity but also lead to an unwarranted secularization and Abrahamization of the Hindu faith in its totality.

The history of Assam’s buffalo and bulbul fights is a history of resilience, community and cultural pride. By finding a middle ground, Assam can continue to honour its traditions while adapting to the changing world, ensuring that its cultural heritage thrives in a way that is both ethically responsible and economically sustainable.

(The views are of the writer)