Blondie with his killers | Facebook
It’s been about a decade since we’ve had a good old lion-killing-controversy, and just like the last one, the antis are following a very similar script. In an event that seems eerily similar to the infamous Cecil the Lion epic that took place back in 2015, it’s time to grab the popcorn and buckle up because we’ve suddenly got another lion and another outrage on the agenda for 2025.
This year’s edition involves a five-year-old male lion who is (obviously) not without an affectuous moniker. Going by the name of Blondie the lion, he was killed towards the end of June near Zimbabwe’s Hwange National Park, following an all too familiar script: a collared research lion, baited out of a protected zone and shot by a white, likely American “trophy hunter” - the perfect recipe for unbridled outrage.
SaY hIs NaMe!!!!!
For context, let’s roll things back to 2015 when our old friend Cecil, a 13-year-old lion, who was lured from Hwange, was shot with a bow and arrow by American dentist Walter Palmer, and tracked for hours before being killed. If you will recall, the global backlash in that case was seismic. Palmer’s life got torched online and in-person, while airlines banned trophy shipments, and Zimbabwe vowed to crack down on alleged “trophy hunting” practices.
Despite the lip service, ‘Babwe did little to actually crack down on lion hunting. The country, which allows up to 100 lions to be hunted annually, generates about $20 million a year from the activity, which is dropped directly into the conservation bucket.
Those dollars help to fund rangers, anti-poaching patrols, and habitat protection in a country where conservation budgets are already stretched thin. With only 1,500 wild lions in Zimbabwe and 20,000-or-so across Africa, facing threats like habitat loss and human conflict, every dollar counts. Tinashe Farawo, Zimbabwe’s Parks spokesperson, defends hunting as a lifeline for underfunded conservation, noting that night hunts (like Blondie’s) make collars hard to spot, and baiting is standard practice.
“This is how people hunt,” he says, shrugging off the ethical hand-wringing.
A Tale of Two Very Different Lions
The problem with Cecil’s hunt was that it raised questions of legality as Zimbabwe’s Parks Authority initially claimed the guides lacked proper permits, although those charges were later dropped.
Dr. Palmer and Cecil the Lion circa 2015 | Rex Shutterstock
Blondie’s hunt, on the other hand, per Zimbabwe’s National Parks, was fully legal, with rangers present and all paperwork in order.
Cecil was a 13-year-old icon, past his prime; Blondie, at just over five, was a breeding male leading a pride of three lionesses and ten cubs. Critics like Africa Geographic’s CEO Simon Espley argue Blondie’s death mocks the “ethics” of hunting, as he wasn’t the “aging, non-breeding” lion hunters claim to target. And while the age of the lion might echo some ethical sentiment across varying circles of opinion, the fact remains that Zimbabwe’s rules don’t mandate age limits for domestic hunts. They only affect limits for exporting trophies, where five years is the minimum. A bar that the Blondie case easily cleared.
Money Talks, Lions Walk
The truth remains that, just like here in America, Zimbabwe is continuing to double-down on hunting as a conservation tool for one over-reaching reason: it works.
While the anti-hunting crowd proposes an incredibly noble “lion levy” for tourists to fund conservation without bloodshed, the question remains: can it scale to replace $20 million a year in funding?
Doubtful.
Tourism’s great, but it’s fickle and expecting the outraged keyboard warriors to fork out tens of thousands of dollars for a 8,000-or-so mile trip to help out is something lions shouldn’t bank on.The social media finger waggers that continue to heat up the debate about an animal that was legally killed in a country many can’t even pronounce remains as a testament of their ignorance.
In Africa, lions aren’t being decimated by hunters. As habitat continues to be developed, these lion-rearing countries are faced with increased human-lion conflicts that ultimately lead to the death of these lions without the associated dollars generated from legal hunts.
Hunters, while imperfect in their own right, aren’t the ones bulldozing savannas or setting snares. They’re funding the fight against those who do. Blondie’s death, like Cecil’s, is a lightning rod because it’s been made personal - a named lion and a cuddly face for the cause. But the mob’s “name and shame” crusade risks alienating the very system that keeps parks like Hwange afloat.
Cecil’s legacy wasn’t a hunting ban - it was tighter rules and global awareness.
Could Blondie’s case end up being something of the same with a possible push for stricter age limits (say, eight years, not five), better enforcement on collared animals, or quotas that prioritize pride stability? Maybe, but only if it makes ecological sense for the environment in which these animals live and the human beings with whom they share it with.
Blondie’s death might be a gut punch to some. But burning down the house to kill a spider is likely not the best solution in this case (and others like it). Legal hunting might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it’s a proven tool in a world where idealism doesn’t pay the bills. If you want to save lions, skip the hashtags and start asking how to make hunting more effective, not how to make it disappear.
