By Suraj Karowa/ANW
November 18, 2025
In the shadowy underbelly of an ant colony, betrayal unfolds with chilling precision—a Shakespearean tragedy scripted by evolution.
Scientists have revealed for the first time how invading queens from parasitic ant species, Lasius orientalis and L. umbratus, deploy chemical weapons to manipulate host workers into assassinating their own mother queen.
This insidious strategy, documented in a groundbreaking study published Monday in Current Biology, marks the first known instance in biology of daughters being coerced into matricide against their biological parent.
The discovery, led by Dr. Keizo Takasuka, an assistant professor of biology at Kyushu University in Japan, peels back the veil on one of nature’s most ruthless takeovers.
“Inducement of daughters to kill their biological mother had not been known in biology before this work,” Takasuka told reporters via email.
What unfolds is a masterclass in deception: an outsider queen infiltrates a rival nest, masquerades as kin, and unleashes a formic acid-laced spray that turns loyal workers into unwitting executioners.
Ant societies are paragons of cooperation, where chemical scents serve as invisible passports—familiar odors signal “nestmate,” while alien ones trigger alarm.
Parasitic queens exploit this system with surgical cunning. Prior observations hinted at the phenomenon: invading L. umbratus queens slipping into L. niger colonies, only for host workers to slay their queen shortly after. But the “how” remained a black box—until now.
The breakthrough came through meticulous experiments by citizen scientists Taku Shimada and Yuji Tanaka in Tokyo. Each raised host colonies—Shimada with L. flavus, Tanaka with L. japonicus—and introduced parasitic queens.
To bypass initial defenses, invaders were prepped in a scent-acquisition phase: co-housed with host workers and pupae (cocoons) to rub on their exoskeletons, adopting the colony’s bouquet.
“This allowed her to gain nestmate recognition and avoid retaliation upon entry,” Takasuka explained.
Once inside, the parasites bypassed foraging trails and bee-lined for the brood chamber, where the resident queen presided over egg-laying duties.
Workers, deceived by the familiar scent, largely ignored the intruder. Some even proffered regurgitated food in trophallaxis—the ants’ intimate mouth-to-mouth feeding ritual—treating her as royalty.
But the queen’s agenda was assassination, not alimentation. Locating the host monarch amid the writhing larvae, she unleashed her abdominal arsenal: a targeted spray of glandular fluid rich in formic acid, a volatile compound that reeks of hostility.
The chemical cocktail didn’t just irritate; it rewired perceptions. Workers, sensing an “imposter” aura around their own queen, pivoted from protection to predation. Initial nips escalated to savage dismemberment—mandibles tearing at legs, antennae, and thorax.
Photographic evidence from the study is harrowing: an L. umbratus queen mid-spray, her abdomen arched like a venomous scorpion; the L. flavus queen later, her waist severed, a grotesque testament to filial fury. “The host workers eventually mutilated their true mother after four days,” the researchers reported. In both trials, the deed was done: the old regime toppled, paving the way for parasitic progeny.
This isn’t random violence. Matricide in ants is evolutionary housekeeping—common when colonies spawn superfluous queens or when a fertile matriarch outlives her prime. But proxy killing? That’s novel territory.
“It’s astonishing that they can actually use chemical manipulation to cause the workers to do it,” said Dr. Jessica Purcell, an entomologist at the University of California, Riverside, who wasn’t involved in the research. Purcell called the work “refreshing,” confirming long-suspected whispers among ant experts through rigorous observation.
Social parasitism is a thriving niche in the insect world, where cheats hijack others’ hard-won larders. Ants, with their fungus-farmed granaries and protein-packed pupae, are prime targets.
Some parasites, like slave-making Polyergus species, raid nests and brainwash captives into lifelong servitude. Others, including L. orientalis and kin, opt for subtlety: queen replacement without the mess of direct combat.
Historical accounts describe invaders decapitating hosts outright, but this chemical puppeteering elevates the game—workers bear the guilt (or genetic burden) of the kill.
The implications ripple beyond ants. Social insects model human societies in microcosm: eusociality’s altruism versus exploitation. “There’s all of this amazing diversity” in takeover tactics, Purcell noted, from kidnapping to coercion.
This study spotlights chemical ecology’s dark side—how pheromones and acids can hijack kin recognition, a system as vital to ants as DNA is to us.
Even folklore pales in comparison. Matricide is taboo in myths—think Medea’s child-slaying rage or Clytemnestra’s husband-murder—but daughters turning on mothers? Rare.
“The killing of a mother in folklore—let alone children being tricked into matricide—is almost nonexistent,” said Dr. Maria Tatar, Harvard’s emerita professor of folklore, unaffiliated with the study.
Takasuka echoed the sentiment: “Sometimes, phenomena in nature outstrip what we imagine in fiction.”
As parasitic queens flood the nest with eggs—hundreds at first, swelling to thousands—host lineages fade. The colony, once a bastion of L. flavus or L. japonicus, morphs into a L. orientalis outpost, workers tending foreign young until their last breath. It’s conquest by cradle-robbing, a slow erasure masked as maternal care.
This tale arrives amid broader entomological intrigue. Just weeks ago, researchers identified parasites on “zombie” ant fungi, unraveling mind-control cascades.
And in a nod to ants’ post-dinosaur boom—when a Chicxulub impact cleared the board for fungal farming—Current Biology highlighted Apterostigma collare workers tending gardens in Costa Rica. Ants, it seems, are history’s ultimate survivors, their dramas as epic as any.
For Takasuka’s team, the work is just beginning. Future probes might decode the fluid’s exact molecules or test if other parasites wield similar sprays. In labs from Tokyo to Riverside, the hunt intensifies—not for pest control (sorry, no new ant-bait formulas here), but for truths that blur life’s lines between ally and assassin.
In nature’s grand theater, the parasitic queen doesn’t wield a dagger; she whispers poison through scent. And in that whisper, colonies fall—not with a bang, but a chemical hiss.
Discover more from AMERICA NEWS WORLD
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
