Answer: When it is a victim of terror, and you are a member of PETA -- People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.
On January 26, yet another Israeli bus was bombed by Arab terrorists. But this time, the delivery system was not a Palestinian -- it was a donkey. With explosives strapped to its back, the poor animal was directed towards an Israeli bus and the bomb remotely detonated. Fortunately, the people all survived. But the donkey didn't.
Enter PETA. After receiving a barrage of protests from its shocked members, the president of PETA, Ingrid Newkirk, fired off a letter to Arafat. She first spoke of another major aspect of the Arab-Israeli conflict -- the recent invasion of Palestinian territories. Israelis take the perspective that it was a necessary response to the wave of terrorism. Palestinians grieve over their fallen "martyrs."
PETA sympathized with an overlooked dimension of this event: "We watched on television as stray cats in your own compound fled as best they could from the Israeli bulldozers."
Then Ms. Newkirk made her request to Arafat: "If you have the opportunity, will you please add to your burdens my request that you appeal to all those who listen to you to leave the animals out of this conflict?"
It's sad when an animal dies. In Judaism, fulfilling most commandments is accompanied by the blessing of shehechiyanu, in which we thank God for bringing us alive to the day when we can fulfill the Torah. But no such blessing is made upon the commandment of using the method of shechitah to slaughter an animal for food. That's because we can't express happiness for being brought to the point at which one of God's creations dies, no matter how good the reason.
Similarly, the prohibition against mixing meat and milk, amongst the most basic laws in Judaism, relates to the sanctity of life -- milk, the source of life, is to be kept separate from a dead animal. All life is precious; Judaism forbids killing any creature, even a bug, for no good reason.
One cannot help but be struck by the lack of any sympathy for the human victims.
The strange thing is that the many laws in Judaism concerning sensitivity to animals (19 commandments in Scripture, and hundreds of rulings in the Talmud and Jewish Law) are intended to make one into a better person. How is it, then, that we find so many people who are wonderfully compassionate when it comes to animals, but are unable to summon the same kindness with regard to their fellow human beings?
I believe that there are several aspects to this problem. Sometimes (often for tragic reasons) it is the case that people find it easier to form relationships with animals than with other human beings. Animals don't emotionally abuse you, and they don't usually physically abuse you either, if you treat them correctly. It's a very simple and gratifying relationship. This point was clearly made by a person who wrote to me as follows: "I currently have three cats and no children (nor do I intend to have any of the latter, as I feel that I am too selfish to make the sacrifices necessary to properly raise them).
This is only a partial answer; there are many people who lead fulfilled interpersonal relationships and still identify with PETA's campaign for the dead donkey and fleeing cats.
There is another angle to this phenomenon. Kindness to animals can be performed for two very different reasons. The secular perspective is that kindness to animals is to be performed due to the rights that animals possess. In Judaism, the laws governing our treatment of animals are not based on the rights of animals. Rather, they are based on the responsibilities of man. As the only beings with a sense of morality, man has to learn the traits of kindness and compassion. In fact, all of Judaism, even the aspect of interpersonal relationships, is based on responsibilities rather than rights. This breeds a society of givers rather than takers.
With there being differences in the essential reasons for kindness to animals, there will correspondingly be a difference in the effect that practicing such kindness has on a person. If kindness to animals is performed to train oneself in compassion, then it will surely have that effect on one's behavior in general, regardless of the species of the recipient. But if kindness to animals is due to the animals' rights, then it doesn't change the person very much.
What is the root cause behind whether kindness to animals is performed due to their rights or due to our responsibilities? Part of it has to do with the fact that in modern society, the concept of rights -- "What's in it for me?" -- is so much more prevalent than the concept of responsibilities. It just doesn't occur to many people that animal suffering can be relieved in any way other than by reinforcing their rights. This gives these well-meaning people a head start on the wrong track.