Killing without counting — South Africa’s elephant conflict debate lacks data

South Africa has just held its Southern African Elephant Indaba, where solutions to human-elephant conflict (HEC) were pushed forward with urgency – culling, trophy hunting, damage-causing animal removals and better fencing. Yet all of this rests on a glaring void: the absence of reliable, national data on the scope of HEC.

At the indaba, hosted by Deputy Minister of Forestry, Fisheries and the Environment Narend Singh, voices ranged from residents to wildlife ranchers, conservation scientists and government officials. HEC dominated the agenda, as it should. But how do you craft policy when no one can answer the most basic question: how many incidents are we actually dealing with?

Fragmented data

Across Africa, elephants are estimated to kill between 100 and 500 people each year. In South Africa, however, deaths are extremely rare. Netcare hospital data between 2015 and 2018 recorded just 10 admissions due to elephant attacks, some fatal. A single tourist death made headlines in the late 1980s, another in 2024. Crop raiding, the main form of HEC, is harder to quantify. But without reliable reporting systems, nobody really knows how widespread the problem is.

What we do know is fragmentary. Limpopo and North West recorded 471 elephant-related damage-causing animal cases between 2015 and 2020. Mopani District tallied 55 incidents between 2001 and 2004. The South African National Biodiversity Institute (Sanbi) reported 41 elephants euthanised as “damage-causing” just last year. Beyond that, we are left with anecdotes and partial records. That is not a foundation for national policy.

Their arguments, stripped bare, were less about human-elephant conflict than about economic gain.

Still, the indaba forged ahead. Trophy hunters and private game ranchers predictably argued for culling and hunting quotas, citing “too many elephants” (with South Africa’s population at 44,000 to 45,000). They lobbied for revisions to national norms and standards, which currently recognise elephants’ sentience and social complexity. Their arguments, stripped bare, were less about human-elephant conflict than about economic gain. Some went as far as to suggest that carcasses of culled elephants be handed to communities in the form of meat, hides and by-products – an incentive dressed up as empowerment, but one that treats elephants as mere commodities.

Conservation scientists tentatively pushed back. Sanbi’s Dr Jeanetta Selier reminded attendees that more than two-thirds of South Africa’s elephants live on state land, primarily in the Kruger National Park. The problem, she argued, is not raw numbers but ecological processes. Dr Sam Ferreira of SANParks has long emphasised that “too many elephants” is a misleading frame. Elephants move in response to resources, and the real issue is artificial management – such as permanent waterholes – that concentrates populations unnaturally. SANParks’ adaptive approach, including closing artificial waterholes, has slowed Kruger’s elephant growth dramatically, from about 6% a year to about 2%, without mass killing. In short, the solution lies in restoring ecological balance, not in the barrel of a gun.

Broken fences

Meanwhile, broken fences across collapsing reserves allow elephants to wander into communities, with little government response. Many provincial and national reserves are underfunded, neglected and in disrepair. Fence failures are common, and when elephants inevitably raid crops, communities are left to fend for themselves. Promises of “better fencing” ring hollow when existing infrastructure is so poorly maintained. Funding is too often misdirected, leaving communities vulnerable and resentful, and elephants branded as criminals.

Here lies the real danger: without reliable, up-to-date data on HEC, decision-making is vulnerable to capture by powerful interest groups. Ranchers and trophy hunting lobbyists seize the opportunity to frame elephants as a menace, advancing old arguments of overpopulation that mask their financial motives. Politicians, keen to appear decisive, are tempted to back such measures in the absence of clear evidence. Communities, left without proper support, are then drawn into a narrative where elephants are the enemy, rather than victims of human neglect and poor planning.

South Africa has the resources and expertise to lead Africa in innovative elephant management. Yet on human-elephant conflict, it is falling at the first hurdle.

There are more imaginative, humane and scientifically grounded ways forward. Adaptive ecological management, as Ferreira’s work shows, can rebalance elephant populations without resorting to culling. Community engagement is crucial: if local people see tangible benefits from living alongside elephants – through ecotourism revenue, sustainable land-use schemes or compensation for crop losses – they are more likely to tolerate the occasional raid. Technology, too, can help, from drones and early warning systems, to innovative fencing methods that are both effective and community-managed. But none of these solutions can be properly scaled up without first knowing the true extent of the conflict.

National audit needed

South Africa urgently needs a comprehensive, transparent national audit of HEC incidents. This means centralising reports from provinces, parks, communities and NGOs into a single database, standardising how incidents are defined and ensuring that both fatalities and crop-raiding episodes are recorded. Such an audit must be ongoing, not a one-off exercise, to capture trends and inform policy dynamically. Without this, solutions will remain guesswork and elephants will continue to pay the price for human failures.

The irony is stark: South Africa has one of the continent’s most celebrated conservation legacies. The Kruger National Park is world renowned, and the country has the resources and expertise to lead Africa in innovative elephant management. Yet on HEC, it is falling at the first hurdle – measuring the problem. Instead of data-driven policy, we are left with rhetorical battles between hunters and conservationists, with communities caught in the middle.

The conclusion is unavoidable: until South Africa can say with confidence how many human-elephant conflicts occur each year, any call for culling, trophy hunting or “damage animal removals” is little more than opportunism. It is policymaking built on sand, with devastating consequences for elephants, ecosystems and people alike. What is needed now is not another indaba with recycled talking points, but a national commitment to evidence, transparency and science-driven management.

Only then will South Africa have the credibility to claim it is truly managing its elephants – not sacrificing them for profit, politics or neglect. DM

Dr Adam Cruise is an investigative environmental journalist, travel writer and academic. He has contributed to a number of international publications, including National Geographic and The Guardian, covering diverse topics from the plight of elephants, rhinos and lions in Africa, to coral reef rejuvenation in Indonesia. Cruise is a doctor of philosophy, specialising in animal and environmental ethics, and is the editor of the online Journal of African Elephants.