The lumbering behemoths have ignited debate for more than a decade over whether any exhibit, no matter how elaborate and spacious, is sufficient for animals that roam miles in the wild daily and live socially in herds. A dozen zoos have already gotten out of the elephant-keeping business.
But nowhere has the debate been more fractious or prolonged than in Los Angeles. In the five years since the zoo broke ground for the exhibit, construction has been halted twice for more study, and zoo officials have been hauled before numerous City Council panels for more questions.
Even the latest decision seems unlikely to stem the debate.
"This isn't over," said Catherine Doyle, an elephant-welfare advocate. "As long as there are elephants at the L.A. Zoo, there is going to be controversy. . . . We had experts from around the world saying elephants don't belong in zoos. It's appalling that the science has been ignored."
But the zoo, a city agency, made a full-court press. Unlike in the past, when zoo officials frostily clamped down in the face of noisy opposition, this time they wooed their doubters. They let reporters tread the part of the new exhibit that is already completed and put their vets and keepers in front of council members' hearings.
For everyone who crowded the chamber Wednesday morning, this meeting was their last stand. They were quick to cheer, boo or gasp in disbelief. Council President Eric Garcetti gave visitors a bit of leeway but periodically cautioned against outbursts.
Celebrities who opposed the exhibit provided some of the day's rhetorical flourishes.
"The L.A. Zoo has consistently concealed its use of electric shock and bullhooks," said the entertainer Cher, who opposed the exhibit. (The zoo has long maintained it has not used prods or brandished bullhooks in decades.)
Actress Lily Tomlin lamented that the zoo accrediting agency, the Assn. of Zoos and Aquariums, set minimum space requirements for elephants that she compared to "the equivalent of a three-car garage." And actor Robert Culp called himself a taxpayer who was outraged at funds "going to this shameless political boondoggle."
But most opponents hewed to their well-established argument that no matter how caring the keepers, the zoo's 3.6-acre exhibit -- even dotted with interesting land features for elephants to clamber over and explore -- would not offer enough room for roaming and conditioning their problem-prone feet. Nor would it offer enough social interaction with other elephants, they have argued.
