Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
By Aidan Rankin
If now I sit once more for a brief quarter hour on the parapet of the bridge from which
as a child I dangled my fishing line a thousand times, I am powerfully gripped by an
awareness of how beautiful and remarkable was the experience of possessing a
place to call my own. Just once to have known in one small corner of the globe each
house and every window in them, and every person behind each window! Just once
to have felt inseparable from a particular corner of the world, much as a tree is bound
by its roots to its own particular spot.
Herman Hesse
The ahatai [settlers] have always coveted Llakha Honhat [Our Land], and they have
used deceit and violence in order to take it from us. ... They did not plant the trees;
they do not keep the bees; the wild animals and fish do not belong to them. ... We
have always lived here, since the time of creation -- we are as much a part of Llakha
Honhat as the trees that grow on it. Our land belongs to us because we belong to the
land.
Oral History of the Wichi Indians (Northern Argentina)
Our roots are deep in the lands where we live. We have a great love for our country,
for our birthplace is here. The soil is rich from the bones of thousands of our
generations. Each of us was created in these lands and it is our duty to take care of
them, because from these lands will spring the future generations of our peoples. We
will walk about with great respect for the Earth, for it is a very Sacred Place.
Sioux, Navajo and Iroquois declaration, USA, 1978
THE ISSUES
The struggle for indigenous peoples' rights is not about rights in the narrow, Western
liberal sense -- the "right" to be assimilated in a 'multicultural society', the 'right' to
participate in a global marketplace, the 'right' to citizenship of a remote, impersonal,
irrelevant state. Indigenous peoples' rights are about land, community and self-
determination, the rights of peoples to preserve their distinctive cultures and
identities.
When they assert their right to self-rule, indigenous peoples face at best
ambivalence, at worst hostility and scorn from the so-called 'civilised world'. This is
because their movements elude the facile, right/left stereotypes of conventional
political discourse. They are opposed to capitalism and view their land as common
property, positions that might suggest affinities with the left. Yet their emphasis on
roots, on tradition and continuity, on language, culture, ethnic identity and spirituality,
is conservative in the true and best sense of the word. It is a conservatism that would
probably have been understood by Edmund Burke, who spoke of the successful
state as one that builds upon foundations of inherited wisdom :
By preserving the method of nature in the conduct of the state, in what we improve,
we are never wholly new; in what we retain, we are never wholly obsolete. .... we
have given to our frame of polity the image of a relation in blood; .... adopting our
fundamental laws into the bosoms of our family affections; keeping inseparable ....
our state, our hearths, our sepulchres and our altars.
Indigenous societies are not static. They evolve like any other human groups,
perhaps more than most. They have complex histories of convulsion and change, be
that change political or climatic. They create art and literature, make music, adapt
themselves to some of the harshest conditions known to man. Their respect for
tradition as a humanising influence, their opposition to arbitrarily imposed change of
unproven worth is anathema to both the neo-liberal right and the multicultural left.
Burke's conservative defence of the organic community is drawn from his best-known
work, Reflections on the Revolution in France (1790), a timely exposure of the way
that abstract, rootless 'rights' can become instruments of tyranny. More than thirty
years earlier, in 1756, Burke wrote another book, A Vindication of Natural Society,
where he attacked the idea of 'development' for its own sake and (in language
familiar to indigenous activists today) expresses his supreme belief in a nature which
"if left to itself were the best and surest Guide". He later repudiated this early work,
which had been praised by the anarchist pioneer William Godwin. The connection
between respect for nature and traditionalist conservatism is perhaps more easily
understood in our own age, the butt-end of the industrial revolution.
Like true anarchists -- and indeed true conservatives -- indigenous peoples do not
recognise divisions between state and community, between politics, the arts and
everyday life. Some societies, like the Pygmies of the central African forest, are
made up of highly individualistic hunters and warriors, whose communal bonds are
loose. Others, like the Kalahari Bushmen and the Wichi of Argentina cited above,
practise forms of 'primitive communism' that reconcile individual creativity and
strength with an ethic of social responsibility. The Tuareg of North-West Africa are
nomads with a proud warrior tradition and a rigid hierarchy. Were they to meet, these
disparate peoples would doubtless celebrate the many differences between
themselves. The more discerning among them, might, however, recognise common
values -- respect for craftsmanship and custom, traditions of story-telling, belief in
man as part of nature, not above or beyond it. Those rendered 'politically aware' by
painful contact with the West might also see their disparate societies as pockets of
resistance to globalisation, to the ideology of 'market forces', part death-cult, part
virus, that infests our 'civilisation' and threatens even the remotest regions of the
Earth.
Indigenous peoples and their allies could, like the young George Orwell, legitimately
call themselves 'Tory anarchists'. Their anarchism is close to that of Proudhon and
Courbet, for thinker and artist alike found inspiration in the rugged, fiercely
independent peasant communities of the Franche-Comte. In our own century,
indigenous anarchism accords well with the philosophy of Paul Goodman, who
dismissed the 'compulsory mis-education' of children with the wise remark that
students could learn more from the cafe than the classroom. In a similar vein, the
British anti-authoritarian Colin Ward has written for over thirty years about co-
operatives, communes and other oases of human values within our unsustainable
consumerist society (for his humanity and vision he was sacked from the New
Statesman and Society in its revamped, technocratic form).
Who is the greatest predator of all? she asked them. We are! she answered, when
they refused to respond.
Were she transferred to Inner London, this same teacher would no doubt ban classic
children's books in the name of 'multicultural awareness' or 'equal opportunities'. Her
'progressive' conditioning prevents her from seeing the centrality of hunting to Innu
life, or realising that the Innu respect and value the animals they hunt, incorporating
them in their folk religion, giving them qualities of courage and wisdom. Thus, with all
the best intentions in her limited little world, she places herself in a long line of
oppressors of the Innu: the missionaries who trampled upon their folk traditions, the
bureaucrats who forced them to live in houses and buy junk food from supermarkets,
the NATO airforces that shatter their peace with incessant low-level flights over their
land. Contrast her approach with that of John Seymour, a true ecologist untainted by
'political correctness'. In his book The Ultimate Heresy (1989), he understands that
Joseph, his Bushman friend, revered the gemsbok as he hunted it with a spear :
Though he would probably not have put the prayer into words, it might have run
something like this : The life force ordains that your kind shall crop the grass after the
rains and munch the tsava melons.... You destroy these things so that they should
become part of a higher form of life, and the life force ordains that I shall kill you, my
Brother, and partake of your flesh, so that I can live too.
Few Western ecologists display the generosity or wisdom of the redoubtable Mr
Seymour. For indigenous societies, 'political correctness' is colonialism in green
wrapping paper.
The idea of indigenous rights cuts like a scalpel across the outdated boundaries of
Western political thought. It is conservative, in its respect for history and tradition,
green in its respect for ecological limits, and archist in its advocacy of autonomous,
human-scale communities. It is also separatist, because it is based on the
fundamental right to self-rule, and nationalist, in the broadest, most generous sense
of this word, affirming the connection between land and identity, between cultural and
territorial integrity. Indigenous peoples, by their very survival within an increasingly
uniform world, present a powerful human challenge to the two most inhuman
ideologies today: economic liberalism, and multiculturalism. The first of these
reduces individuals and peoples to slaves of 'market forces', the second destroys and
dilutes all cultures under the pretext of 'tolerance' and 'inclusion'. Amazon Indians
working as cheap labour for oil multinationals, eating at McDonalds, and listening to
the Spice Girls through Sony Walkmans -- that is the 'globalist' ideal. By asserting
their right to exist, indigenous peoples show that there are such things as societies,
that they can be defended, that the notions of 'progress' and 'growth' that have
brought misery to the West can be successfully opposed.
The term 'indigenous peoples' is one that I am using for convenience to describe the
300 million people throughout the world who live in communities based on land and
tribe, outside the mainstream of the world economy, remote from the established
centres of political power, and possessing distinctive cultures which predate
capitalism and socialism. Many other terms are used to describe such societies :
Survival International refer to 'tribal peoples', whilst many Native American groups
understandably prefer 'First Nations'. With apologies all round, I shall stick to
'indigenous', because it is the most familiar term and because -- as we shall see -- its
definition can be broadened. There are so many peoples that fall into this category
that the examples I use are bound to be somewhat arbitrary. For this reason, I have
isolated three characteristics which indigenous societies can be said to share :
Indigenous peoples regard land as the basis of national or tribal identity, religion and
culture, of life itself. It is treated as collective property, transcending in importance
personal possessions. Argentina's Wichi Indians refer to Llakha Honhat (on the
borders of Argentina, Bolivia and Paraguay) as "the land of their ancestors' bones".
Recovery of that land, stolen from them by settlers for intensive farming, is central to
their struggle for survival as a people. Similarly, the Guarani-Kaiowa Indians of
South-Western Brazil experience deforestation of their land as a form of religious
desecration, because the forest was created by their life-giving spirit, Nande Ru. In
West Papua (called 'Irian Jaya' by its Indonesian occupiers), the Freeport McMoRan
mining site, part-owned by RTZ, encroaches on land sacred to the AmungMe people,
because it is the home of the ancestral spirit Jo-Mun Nerek. Land-based spirituality
gives indigenous communities a special awareness of the environment and the folly
of trying to overthrow nature. This letter from the Hopi people of Arizona to the United
States government in 1984 shows an early awareness that 'civilisation' is playing
Russian Roulette with the climate :
We have tried to warn you again and again that some white men will cause great
suffering for all life if they continue to violate and desecrate the great spirit's laws for
this land and life. Already the forces of nature are hitting your cities and towns with
greater intensity and violence. Big winds, earthquakes, tornadoes, volcanoes,
severity of seasons changing, droughts, floods, fires, freezing-cold weather, blazing
heatwaves. All your scientists have not been able to predict these natural forces, nor
can they stop them!
The prominence of women in indigenous societies has been noted with admiration in
the West. We have seen already with the Tuareg of North-West Africa -- a Muslim
people -- that women are educators, story-tellers and myth-makers, so are looked
upon by men as sources of knowledge as well as life. Tuareg society is stratified,
with political discourse confined to the highest castes. Within those castes, however,
women exactly the same powers as men, and are included in discussions at every
level. Throughout the indigenous world, female creativity in music, painting, story-
telling, child-rearing and village politics is regarded as central to the community's
existence. In the words of another Hopi petition :
The family, the dwelling house, and the field are inseparable because the woman is
the heart of these, and they rest with her.
Like European pagans, indigenous peoples worship goddesses as well as gods, and
the spirits of the forests, mountains and rivers are as likely to be female as male. This
male/female balance is not based on sameness, but difference, between the sexes. It
values differences between men and women rather than seeking to obliterate all
distinctions like orthodox feminism in 'developed' societies. The masculine attributes
of spontaneity, inventiveness, craftsmanship and military prowess, and the female
attributes of nurture, resourcefulness and life-affirming wisdom are seen as
complementary principles holding together the structures of extended family, village
and tribe. Friendships between men and co-operation between women are often as
important, sometimes more important, than marital ties. It would not occur to a
Yanomami, Wichi or 'Pygmy' woman that preparing food, or looking after the young
and the old, somehow made her 'second-class'. Nor would it occur to her husband
and brothers that hunting gave them special privileges.
In Britain and other 'developed' countries, roads are seen increasingly as symbols of
the assault on nature by consumer capitalism. For indigenous, they can bring utter
devastation. In 1960, the 'developmentalist' Brazilian government bulldozed the BR-
364 through the savanna homeland of the Nambiquara people, allowing an influx of
settlers and farmers to colonise Indian land. A 'reserve' was later created for the
Indians, carved out of territory that should have been theirs, but the authorities
conveniently chose an area so arid that nothing could grow. During the 1980s, the
World Bank poured money into 'improving' the road, without thinking of consulting the
indigenous population. The result is that farmers plough up Nambiquara land, loggers
steal wood, and game -- scarce even at the best of times -- has all but disappeared.
According to a Survival International report :
The 1,200 remaining Nambiquara are suffering from malnutrition and fatal diseases,
including typhoid and yellow fever, brought in by the immigrants. Now gold miners
are moving onto their land, polluting rivers and threatening their very survival.
Have the missionaries of 'progress' learned from such tragedies? Sadly not. The
Brazilian government of President Fernando Henrique Cardoso, left-wing economist
turned rampant free-marketeer, still plans to develop the Pan American Highway,
'opening the interior' to foreign investment at the cost of native lives and native
cultures.
For most indigenous peoples, independence from European colonialism has not
brought freedom. On the contrary, it has brought new, more extreme forms of
colonialism, or enforced assimilation in federal unions or arbitrarily defined nation-
states. The Tuareg, whose fierce resistance to French rule won international acclaim,
found themselves divided between five new states: Algeria, Burkina Faso, Libya, Mali
and Niger. To them, these borders have nothing to do with national identity -- they
see them as meaningless lines on a map. The Tuareg are a people who value their
right to roam; before the advent of borders and roads, they controlled the trade
routes across the Sahara. But the governments of Mali and Niger, where most
Tuareg are concentrated, have continuously attempted to impose a 'settled' lifestyle.
They call the Tuareg 'white nomads' and accuse them of clinging to the 'privilege' of
nomadism.
The Jummas of Bangladesh are a collection of largely Buddhist hill peoples who
resemble the tribal minorities of neighbouring Burma and Thailand. In colonial times,
the British recognised their culture as distinctive, and protected their lands from
colonisation. Since 1971, when Bangladesh became a fully independent state, its
governments have relentlessly persecuted the Jummas. They have moved settlers
onto their land in the Chittagong Hill Tracts, sent troops to burn them alive in their
homes and attempted to obliterate their religion. One third of the Jummas are now in
exile, many in refugee camps across the Indian border. A similar situation is faced by
the Nuba of central Sudan. The Nuba are a mainly Muslim people, but ethnically they
resemble the Christian and animist peoples of the South rather than the Arab-
dominated North. Their practice of Islam is considered unorthodox by the Khartoum
government, which incited local religious leaders to issue a collective Fatwa against
them. The real motive is not religious, it is economic and territorial. The government
wants the fertile pasture lands of the Nuba Hills for its friends in agri-business. It has
encouraged attacks on Nuba by neighbouring Arab peoples and moved them forcibly
to 'peace villages' that are little more than concentration camps. Nuba children have
been sold into slavery in the North. Sudan's borders are arbitrary even for post-
colonial Africa, forcibly uniting peoples who have no cultural or historic connection
with each other except for the experience of British rule. Further West, the chaos of
Nigeria presents a powerful warning of the dangers of federal union without popular
consent.
Argentina's Wichi, who had hunted, farmed and fished sustainably for generations in
the dry Chaco region of their country's border, have seen their land this century
reduced to an inhospitable dust-bowl. This is because the settlers, known as criollos,
introduced intensive cattle ranching to an area where it was wholly inappropriate. As
the Wichi history shows, they brought with them fences and rifles -- which they have
used to exclude the Indians from their own land :
Some said they had come to buy iguana skins and they would go at the end of the
season. But soon they set up trading stores and stayed -- without even mentioning it
to us, as though we didn't exist.... One colonist even threatened us with war. "Indians,
what will you do without weapons if we make war on you?" he asked.
In recent years the Wichi have experienced a remarkable cultural revival and have
developed a strong political organisation, called Lhakha Honhat, after their
homeland. They have reclaimed their oral history, had it transposed into writing for
the first time, and produced a giant map of their colonised land which they are using
to lobby governments. In 1994 a Wichi representative, Francisco Perez, travelled to
Geneva to address the UN Commission on Human Rights -- no mean achievement
for a people who only ten years earlier were barely acknowledged to exist.
WE ARE ALL "INDIGENOUS PEOPLES" NOW!
By their very existence, indigenous societies hold up a critical mirror to the dominant
culture of consumerism. They prove that human beings can find material and spiritual
satisfaction without the aid of the market or the state, television soap operas,
packaged foods or prozac. In this sense, they are a living embodiment of the Third
Way, rejecting both global capitalism and state socialism, practising decentralisation,
living within natural bounds and viewing land as a sacred possession, not a mere
piece of real-estate. They are the cutting edge of resistance to multicultural
imperialism, the universalist, levelling-down ideology of corporations, governments,
mass-media and 'political correcters' alike. Multicultural imperialism is more insidious
than traditional forms of colonial rule because it uses the language of egalitarianism
and tolerance to promote uniformity of thought. It values 'inclusiveness' over diversity,
scorns attachment to land and place, and seeks to break down rather than
strengthen traditional cultures. Most Western greens have yet to realise what
indigenous peoples have understood for some time -- that the global market and
global 'political correctness' are but two sides of the same coin.
In Britain, the idea of citizenship has always been nebulous, at least since Norman
times; the radical republican factions of the Civil War identified the 'Norman Yoke' as
the root of centralised oppression. Whether it happens to lean to 'left' or 'right', our
political establishment behaves more as a colonial power than as a democratic polity.
In the names of 'progress' and of multiculturalism, our countryside is destroyed by
roads, our history rewritten, our cultures denigrated, our right to self-determination
signed away. In the name of 'political correctness' our voices are silenced, our
language castrated. Land and identity are subordinated to 'market forces',
male/female balance to a life-denying cult of 'gender neutrality'. The struggles of
indigenous peoples have become ours, too....