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Cock Fighting: A Clash of Culture and Cruelty
Written and Photographed by Bill Bell
Warning! The following story and photographs may be offensive to some readers.
Cockfighting: a Mexican tradition steeped in history and culture—or the cruel and inhumane treatment of animals, where roosters often fight to the death for the pleasure of the crowd?
In the Mexican state of Nayarit, cockfights, known as palenques, are legal and regulated by the government. Promoters and organizers travel between various towns, where locals turn out in large numbers to watch up to thirty fights per event. While the audience is predominantly male, it’s not uncommon to see families and young children attending these gatherings. Bets are placed on the birds, each identified by a red or green leg marking, and the crowd’s energy builds as the fights progress.
The atmosphere at these events is surprisingly friendly, and American and Canadian visitors are welcomed. Although photography is permitted, flash photography is strictly prohibited, as it is believed that the sudden bright light could blind the birds.
Each bird is carefully weighed, classified, and prepared to fight. Bets are placed, and odds are given based on the breed and reputation of the bird’s owner or trainer. In these local fights, razors are attached to the spurs of the roosters’ legs, making the contests incredibly lethal. The roosters are conditioned much like professional athletes before the event, their bodies honed for battle.
While not all fights end in death, the cocks often endure severe physical trauma, including broken legs, wings, and deep cuts. Many matches conclude with a broken neck or the rooster being immobilized due to blood loss. The sight of the still-twitching bodies of these once-majestic creatures, discarded in a heap beside the arena, is both haunting and sobering.
“I bet you’ve never seen anything like this in America,” a young Mexican man, wearing a cowboy hat and holding a Pacifico beer, said to me. It was a sweltering night, and the still air was thick with the smell of blood, sweat, and beer.
This particular cockfight was taking place in the small community of Puerto de la Lima, about 120 kilometers north of Puerto Vallarta. The event was filled with local Mexicans whom I admire and consider friends. They are respected members of the community where I reside, and when I asked what draws them to the cockfight, their response was nothing more than a bewildered stare, as if I had asked a question that shouldn’t need an answer.
The crowd’s reaction to the fights is akin to the fervor seen at prize boxing matches. They discuss strategies, point out the fighters’ deficiencies, and cheer when decisive blows are struck. There’s a palpable excitement when the winning rooster stands triumphantly over its defeated opponent.
Animal welfare and animal rights activists often condemn cockfighting as a blood sport, due to the severe physical trauma inflicted on the birds. Advocates of the sport, however, frequently cite cultural and religious significance as reasons for its continuation.
“Don’t try to change Mexican culture into ours,” is something I’ve often said to expat friends and newcomers. Cockfighting is part of Mexican culture, a tradition with deep roots. Yet, as I witnessed this event, I found myself mentally stumbling, struggling to reconcile those oft-repeated words with the brutal reality before me.