Colombia is considering opening the door to the regulated hunting of capybaras, the world’s largest rodent, in a move that has sparked debate among environmental authorities, local communities, and animal rights advocates. The government argues that overpopulation in some regions is putting strain on ecosystems and agricultural activities, while critics warn that authorizing hunting could create more problems than it solves.
The capybara: A rodent of unusual size and cultural importance in Colombia
Known locally as ‘chiguiros’, capybaras are semi-aquatic mammal’s native to South America, weighing up to 150 pounds (68 kilos) and thriving in wetlands, rivers, and savannas. In Colombia, they are particularly abundant in the eastern plain region of Los Llanos, a vast expanse of grasslands and waterways that stretched toward Venezuela.
For centuries, Indigenous communities and rural populations have haunted capybaras for their meat, which is considered a delicacy, particularly during Holy Week when catholic dietary traditions restrict the consumption of red meat. Their thick, oily skin has also been used in leather goods, while fat derived from the animals has been employed in traditional medicine.
Despite this cultural and economic relevance, capybaras have long existed in legal gray zone. Hunting is generally prohibited in Colombia, except under specific circumstances such as population control programs, but illegal hunting continues. Authorities say they are now weighing whether a more regulated approach could balance ecological realities with longstanding human practices.
The push for regulation
The Ministry of Environment and Sustainable Development has acknowledged receiving proposals to authorize capybara hunting under controlled conditions. The main argument rests on reports of overpopulation in areas of Meta, Casanare, and Vichada, where the animals often graze on crops, damage pastures, and compete with cattle for resources.
Officials claim that in some regions the density of capybaras has exceeded the carrying capacity of the land, leading to concerns about soil erosion, biodiversity loss, and conflicts with farmers. “We cannot ignore the environmental imbalances and the social tensions that emerge when species populations grow unchecked,” said one ministry spokesperson in a recent press briefing.
Proponents argue that regulated hunting would generate new sources of income for rural communities while reducing illegal trafficking. By issuing permits, setting quotas, and monitoring populations, the government could theoretically ensure sustainability while also channeling demand into illegal markets.
Backlash from conservationists and animal rights groups
The proposal, however, has drawn fierce opposition. Environmental NGOs argue that capybaras play a vital ecological role in maintaining wetland systems. As grazers, they help control vegetation growth and provide food for predators such as jaguars, caimans, and large birds of prey. Removing large numbers from the ecosystem could disrupt these delicate balances.
Animal rights groups have also criticized the move as a step backward for wildlife protection. They note that Colombia is already struggling with deforestation, habitat fragmentation, and biodiversity loss, and fear that authorizing hunting could normalize the exploitation of vulnerable species. While capybaras are not currently listed as endangered, conservationists caution that legal hunting might increase demand and fuel poaching.
“Regulating hunting sounds good on paper, but in practice it is extremely difficult to enforce in remote areas. Once there is a market incentive, you risk creating pressures that local authorities are not equipped to manage,” said Maria Fernanda Ramirez, a biologist from Orinoquia Foundation.
A question of governance and rural development
Beyond the ecological arguments, the capybara debate reflects deeper tensions in Colombia’s rural development model. Los Llanos is a region where cattle ranching dominates, and land disputes are common. Farmers who see capybaras as pests often resent what they perceive as government inaction. At the same time, Indigenous communities stress that any decision about hunting should respect their ancestral rights and knowledge.
The issue also raises questions about how Colombia wants to position itself internationally. The country markets itself as one of the world’s most biodiverse nations, a destination for ecotourism and conservation. Authorizing hunting of such a charismatic species could complicate that narrative, especially at a time when global pressure is mounting to protect tropical ecosystems and curb deforestation in the Amazon and surrounding regions.
The Ministry of Environment has not yet issued a final decision but is expected to release guidelines for public consultation later this year. Any policy change would require approval at both the national and regional levels, as well as input from scientific institutions tasked with monitoring capybara populations.
For now, the debate is far from settled. Advocates of regulation see a chance to align tradition with modern wildlife management, while critics warn of irreversible consequences. What seems certain is that the humble capybara, once an overlooked creature of Colombia’s plains, has suddenly become a flashpoint in a broader discussion about how the country balances cultural heritage, rural livelihoods, and environmental stewardship.
As the world watches, Colombia’s decision on the fate of the capybara could set a precedent for how Latin America manages human-wildlife coexistence in an era of growing ecological stress.