We are not food for elephants. They are vegetarians. Yet, when an elephant sees a human, it often attacks. Why does this happen?
Animals usually attack for two reasons, either to defend themselves or to feed. Elephants, however, eat leaves, twigs, grasses, and other greens in the forest. The palm leaves we offer them in captivity are a poor substitute for their natural diet. Have you ever seen an elephant climb a palm tree to feed? Clearly, their diet in the wild is much more complex than what we assume or provide.
But even though they do not need us for food, we have continuously attacked and exploited them, not for survival, but for greed, control, and pleasure. We attempt to dominate a giant creature like the elephant using a small stick, and we take pride in breaking their spirit. It takes years to convert a wild elephant into what we call a domestic one. But the truth is, they never truly become domestic. They comply only because of fear.

Science tells us that elephants have a memory more powerful than that of humans. Unlike us, they do not just store personal memories, they pass down knowledge, experiences, and warnings through generations. That is one of the core reasons elephants react so strongly to humans. A tiger, which is a meat eater, rarely attacks a human unless provoked or under extreme circumstances. Elephants, on the other hand, have a clear and deep-rooted grudge against us. They remember.
You may already know this. You may have watched videos where travellers cross forest paths, only to be chased by an elephant from behind. I am a frequent traveller through the Western Ghats, and I often pass through forest routes. During one such journey through the Kutta–Tholpetty route, I heard a story from a local acquaintance who has lived there for over thirteen years.

He told me about a night when he was returning from a trip and saw a group of tourists in a vehicle. They had spotted elephants on the road and began clicking pictures, calling out to them, making noises, and teasing them. The herd was clearly disturbed. One elephant charged toward the vehicle. The tourists had to drive in reverse, and even we, coming from behind, had to move back. The group of elephants held them on a curve for over an hour, and they were eventually forced to take an alternate route home.
This story is not unique. Elephants do not forget. What we do to them, they respond to, not always immediately, but inevitably.
We have distanced ourselves from nature’s system and abandoned the right way of living, all in the name of modernity. But the animals have not changed. They live by the same rules’ nature gave them. And when we interfere with their world, with our arrogance, sophistication, and careless behaviour, we create conflict.
So where does this deep-seated hatred come from? It is born out of the cruelty we have inflicted on elephants for decades, and continue to. Each generation of elephants inherits the trauma caused by human greed. In the old days, hunters would shoot elephants in the forehead to bring them down and harvest their tusks for profit.

The methods we use to capture wild elephants are brutal and calculated. We use trained elephants to isolate and manipulate wild ones. We dig pits and set traps. The captured elephant is then tormented by these decoy elephants, trained to intimidate, attack, and guide the wild one into submission.
And once captured, this gentle giant is made to do unimaginable work, hauling heavy tree logs, performing in temple processions, pushing burdens, and even begging. During one of my travels in northern India, I saw elephants trained to beg. Their soulful, intelligent eyes and adorable faces were exploited for coins.
Is it any wonder, then, that elephants hate us? Perhaps no other animal sees humans as their greatest enemy the way elephants do. It is possible that an elephant calf, upon birth, is warned by its mother or the herd: be careful of the two-legged creature; do not trust them; kill them if you must. That might be the message passed down, a generational memory of betrayal.

Picture Credits : Madhu Mitha IFS shared on X platform. In picture, Dr. V. Krishnamurthy taking care of Elephant.
The famous writer Jeyamohan portrayed the life of Dr. V. Krishnamurthy in his collection of short stories titled “Aram”(translated as “Compassion”), particularly in the story “Yaanai Doctor” (The Elephant Doctor”). He was a forest Veterinarian who was also lovingly called “Aane Doctor” in Tamil Nadu. He treated many injured wild elephants, especially those affected by snare wounds, bottle-foot infections, and human- inflicted injuries. Elephants, when they step on broken glass bottles, suffer what is called “bottle injury” and can bleed to death. This doctor dedicated his life to healing such wounds. He treated wild dogs, wolves, and elephants, forming a silent bond with them, a bond that seems like a mirage in today’s modern world.
In the story, it is written that elephants would travel from faraway places seeking this doctor. In today’s world, where it is difficult to distinguish fact from fiction, such a tale may raise eyebrows. But it is true. That is the extent of their memory.
And yet, we blame them, for destroying property, for taking lives, for disrupting our comfort. But in truth, it is not violence. It is repayment. A quiet, slow, inevitable return for what we have done to them.
“Such a powerful reminder to be kind and compassionate.”
True, Elephants attack human only because of revenge.