Save the Regent's Park Three

This is not to be believed. They are removing London Zoo's elephants, all three of them, for ever. Man and boy I have watched these majestic beasts wandering their pen and waving their trunks at the world. Gloriously visible from across Regent's Park, they seem to have stood sentinel on the city, symbols of wisdom and longevity amid the turmoil. London has few sights so calming as these creatures. Now they are to go. I am sure the small minds who make these decisions have their own fears and grievances to assuage, but who permits them to do this, whom do they consult? Do they ask me, or London's children, or the mayor, or the other animals? A man was tragically killed in the elephant enclosure last month and we must sympathise with that loss. Officialdom has doubtless warned of huge liabilities. The RSPCA is said to have commissioned animal psychologists to prove that zoos are cruel places and declare all animal exhibition demeaning. We can, I am sure, always make the world a safer place. We can release all pets into the wild, go home and watch television.

But surely we can save the Regent's Park Three. The elephants are London signatures, like red buses, black taxis and the ravens in the Tower of London. They are also the identifying species of the Zoo itself. You cannot have a zoo without elephants. Look at every zoo sign. Are they to be wiped out by these slaves to political correctness? Are we all to be cringeing victims of health and safety terrorism?

The first elephant arrived at the Zoo in 1828, the first giraffe in 1836 and a year later the first chimpanzee. In 1882 the Zoo sold Jumbo to Barnum's Circus for £2,000, separating him from his mate Alice and the whole of London rose in a fury at this mercenary divorce. There has never not been a London elephant since Henry III housed one in the Tower of London. In my boyhood, the Zoo still offered elephant rides, a charming adventure that delighted millions of children but is nowadays considered recklessly dangerous by any zoo keeper and his insurance company. Risk aversion makes killjoys of us all.

Hugh Casson's 1965 Elephant House, the architectural centrepiece of the Zoo, was designed to reflect the colouring and robustness of its inhabitants. It is a building for elephants, not for whatever interactive video show may now replace them. The oast house roofs also respect their parkland setting, unlike their overbearing neighbour, the Zoo's new conservation block. This is just another leisure building plonked down as if in a business park.

The Zoo has its problems. It has suffered a collapse of 50 per cent in visitors since the foot-and-mouth outbreak. It is constantly embattled by animal-rights activists opposed to the incarceration of wild (or tame) animals, and by those who prefer rural safari parks to city zoos. The sight of elephants, lions, tigers and giraffes - so-called "charismatic megaspecies" - even in carefully designed enclosures is too much for them to bear.

I would defend the Zoo against this. Its progressive redesign has freed the animals from confined cages and related them more closely to their habitats. They are not in evident distress. The animals give huge pleasure to children by a physical proximity impossible in a safari park or on a screen. There is a thrill, and somehow a comfort, to find in the heart of the city something of the smell of the wild. An American writer friend always visits the Zoo on his arrival in London. He goes to pay his respects to the Gabon Viper, to prepare himself for the London critics.

The removal of the elephants will remove the heart from the Zoo. If the authorities cannot baulk the militants on elephants, they will presumably capitulate on giraffes, lions, tigers, polar bears and, for that matter, zebras, antelopes, kudus and cobras. They must all have their attendant psychologists and habeas corpus lawyers. Who are we to say they do not suffer in captivity? Since the Zoo will have to remove its "elephant" direction signs for fear of suits from anguished children, perhaps it will advertise its location with an ant. I know it has one because I once sponsored it for £5. I wish I had sponsored the elephant. Or are ants also at psychological risk in Regent's Park and must be moved to Whipsnade?

Zoos now regard themselves as primarily conservation bodies. They are concerned with species protection, breeding and the possible reintroduction of endangered animals into the wild. They are moving away from live animals in the direction of films, indoor education and animal embryology. These activities need not be in a park. They can as well be on a science campus or the North Circular Road.

London Zoo was located in Regent's Park to enable Londoners to see animals "in a natural setting". Decimus Burton and others designed buildings appropriate for this use. Later architects have struggled to bring animals and humans closer together, closer than is possible in open country. This is the point. If this can no longer be tolerated, there is no point in having the Zoo located in what was designated as a royal park in central London.

When the Royal Botanic Society could no longer sustain its private premises in Regent's Park in 1932, the outcome was not in doubt. New gardens were laid out in honour of Queen Mary, merged with the park and opened to the public. If the Zoo decides to become a science centre and virtual reality museum, it will be in breach of its lease as a "zoological garden". It should be asked to leave. The site should be landscaped in what could be an exciting urban wilderness running down the canal and made open to all. Already the Crown Estate has been allowed to build a housing estate along one bank of the canal. For the Zoo to go the same way would be outrageous.

Where is the mayor?