18.W. E. Unrau, White Man’s Wicked Water: The Alcohol Trade and Prohibition in Indian Country, 1802–1892 (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1996).
19.Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples, “Volume 1: Looking Forward, Looking Back,” Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples (Ottawa: Queen’s Printer, 1997), 293–294.
20.Brian Maracle, Crazy Water: Native Voices on Addiction and Recovery (Toronto: Viking, 1993), 44–45.
21.An Act to Encourage the Gradual Civilization of Indian Tribes in this Province, and to Amend the Laws Relating to Indians, 3rd Session, 5th Parliament, 1857; An Act for the gradual enfranchisement of Indians, the better management of Indian affairs, and to extend the provisions of the Act 31st Victoria, chapter 42.
22.This is discussed in further detail in chapter 21.
23.Deborah Chansonneuve, Addictive Behaviours Among Aboriginal People in Canada (Aboriginal Healing Foundation, 2007), http://www.ahf.ca/downloads/addictive-behaviours.pdf.
24.Ibid., 5–6.
18
The Myth of the Wandering Nomad
I’ve read pretty much every book written by Robert J. Sawyer over the past few years, because, as pointed out in an editorial by Adam Shaftoe and Matt Moore in the fall 2011 edition of On Spec, he’s a Canadian sci-fi author who is surprisingly optimistic in his writing, in an age where so much science fiction is dystopian and disasterthemed.1 Also, I really get a kick out of his Canadian references, despite the fact that they are mostly related to Ontario.2 I’d love some more Prairie references, but you’ve got to write what you know, n’est ce pas? Sawyer lives in Mississauga, after all.
As a related aside, my husband was reading the final book in the Sawyer trilogy I’m about to discuss, at the same time as he was reading the final instalment of the Hyperion Cantos by United States sci-fi author Dan Simmons.3 He noted that within the first few chapters of the Simmons book, there had already been a number of fights and all sorts of adrenaline-pumping action, while he was nearly through the Sawyer book and the most shocking thing that had happened so far were some really great intellectual conversations about the nature of what it means to be human. I want to stress that this does not make Sawyer’s book any less interesting, but it is certainly more Canadian somehow.
My ears always perk up (figuratively, obviously, since I’m reading, not listening) when Sawyer mentions “Native Canadians.” It’s a term I think he chose over First Nations because it would be more familiar to readers in the United States, which is, let’s be honest, a way bigger market than Canada. I’m interested in how writers portray Indigenous peoples, and what attitudes are expressed in these portrayals – something you’ve already seen me deal with in chapter 8. Sawyer introduces Indigenous characters fairly often, but never in stereotypically negative ways – nor, to his credit, in stereotypically positive, “noble savage” ways. Since he’s writing sci-fi, many of the Indigenous characters end up being scientists, or other professionals interacting with the scientist protagonists.
The trilogy in question is The Neanderthal Parallax, where contact is made with an alternate earth in which Homo sapiens did not become the dominant humans, but rather Neanderthals did.4 Sawyer explores all sorts of interesting cultural dissimilarities, related to differences in physiology, historical development, and even the ability to believe in a God. It’s a good read; I recommend it.
Two passages in this trilogy really caught my eye, and I wanted to share them with you.
In the second book, Humans, on page 35, one of the protagonists (geneticist Mary Vaughan) is being asked to develop some sort of test to determine who is Neanderthal and who is Homo sapiens (you know, for possible immigration purposes). She has her reservations, but Sawyer has her thinking this:
Mary nodded slowly. It did, sort of, make sense. And, after all, there was a benign precedent: the Canadian government already put a lot of work into defining who is and who isn’t a Status Indian, so that social programs and entitlements could properly be administered.5
I’ll admit I bristled at the characterization of this being benign. Nor, upon further reflection, has my reaction changed. To me, benign is something that is both well-meaning and does not cause harm. I don’t think either of these criterion is met by the current government policies that define who is, and who is not, a status Indian – unless he meant benign like a tumour.
This struck me as one instance where Sawyer is perhaps too optimistic and forgiving, but it’s also entirely possible he had Mary Vaughan thinking this to highlight her naïvety. I think this would require a wide understanding among his readership since the example given is not actually all that benign, but I doubt most Canadians (or United States citizens) give it any thought at all. Anyway, I don’t want to get into that trap of double or triple guessing what the author was trying to convey with what was a very small bit of Canadian context.
I do want to point out the fact that being mentioned at all in a mainstream work of fiction is rare enough, and here I am, talking about it like it’s a big deal!
That wasn’t actually the passage that got most of my attention, though. Later on in the book, there is a conversation about a statement made that agriculture is a prerequisite to civilization. You see, the Neanderthals in this trilogy do not practise agriculture, yet had clearly developed a civilization including the development of technologies that impressed their Homo sapiens counterparts. (Failure to develop impressive technologies may cause people to dismiss you as primitive, even if you have civilization, so be warned!)
In this conversation, the Neanderthal protagonist, Ponter Boddit, notes hunting and gathering requires only about 9 percent of one’s time (15–20 hours a week), a claim that astonishes the assorted professionals present.6
At this point, a Native American named Henry Running Deer (apparently a professor at the University of Chicago) confirms this and goes on to say some interesting things I want to share. This might be a longish quote, but it bears reading:
“But how do you get permanent settlement without agriculture?” asked Angela.
Henry frowned. “You’ve got it wrong. It’s not agriculture that gives rise to permanent habitation. It’s hunting and gathering.”
“But – no, no. I remember from school–”
“And how many Native Americans taught at your school?” asked Henry Running Deer in an icy tone.
“None, but –”
Henry looked at Ponter, then back at Mary. “Whites rarely understand this point, but it’s absolutely true. Hunter gatherers stay put. To live off the land requires knowing it intimately: which plants grow where, where the big animals come to drink, where the birds lay their eggs. It takes a lifetime to really know a territory. To move somewhere else is to throw out all that hard-won knowledge.”
Mary lifted her eyebrows. “But farmers need to put down roots – umm, so to speak.”
Henry didn’t acknowledge the pun. “Actually, farmers are itinerant over a period of generations. Hunter-gatherers keep their family sizes small; after all, extra mouths to feed increase the work that an adult has to do. But farmers want big families: each child is another laborer to send out into the fields, and the more kids you have, the less work you have to do yourself… But as the farmers’ offspring grow up, they have to move on and start their own farms. Ask a farmer where his great-great-grandfather lived and he’ll name some place far away; ask a hunter-gatherer, and he’ll say, ‘right here.’”7
How many of you were taught that all Indigenous peoples were nomadic – of no fixed address? Perhaps you may have learned that some, like the Haudenosaunee, farmed and stayed put, but, in general, the perception is that we all just roamed the lands aimlessly, never really settling down permanently.
You’ve probably heard of our territories, which, perhaps in your mind, mark some sort of hazy boundary within which we did all this roaming. You’ve no doubt also heard about our ties to the land, blah, blah, blah, but perhaps you never really considered what that actually
means, and what knowledge (and stability) it requires us to have.
As the fictional Henry Running Deer points out, being a successful hunter-gatherer requires an intimate knowledge of a specific territory, a knowledge that does not come quickly and is very vulnerable to relocation. When hunters from the United States come up to Canada, what do they do? They hire someone who knows the land. If they don’t, they don’t get their precious trophies. (Down with trophy hunting, arrrrrgh!)
Now, nothing Sawyer’s character said came as a surprise to me, except for the fact that he had a character discuss this at all. To me, and probably most Indigenous people, this is common-sense knowledge. Yet, it means Sawyer has pondered this issue in a way few Canadians ever do, because this approach flies directly in the face of what the Canadian system of education has taught students since that system was created. Sawyer suggests being nomadic doesn’t mean what you probably think it means; in fact, he goes on to propose permanent settlement might not mean what you think it means, either.
If permanent settlement is building-specific, then simply constructing a structure that will last a decade or longer may fulfill the criterion, but this is a fairly feeble definition. If, instead, it refers to successive generations inhabiting the same area over a significant period of time (like thousands of years), then folks, few people do permanent settlement like Indigenous peoples!
Basically, Sawyer is challenging the ladder theory, or unilineal theory, of civilization and development.8 I’m talking about the Sid Meiers’ Civilization game-type theory that has all people progressing through certain stages until they basically become like Europeans.9 It goes something like this: first, you’re an animist, then you’re into polytheism, then you get with the program and believe in only one god. All the while, you’re developing agriculture, metallurgy, building cities – becoming civilized! (It’s okay if you like the Civilization computer games; I do, too! I even bought the expansion pack so I could play various Indigenous peoples – even though my game play relies heavily on armed expansion and colonization – to the dismay of all my ancestors, no doubt.)
Sawyer questions what most of us were taught in school (something we should all do more of). The ladder, or unilineal, theory has been pretty soundly discredited, but like so many things we were taught (but never confirmed were actually true),10 it’s had immense staying power in the minds of most Canadians, and it has certainly continued to influence opinions and policy.
Sawyer’s characters are surprised by this different way of looking at the issue, and I imagine many people who have read this book were surprised, as well. That surprise comes from the fact that we have all been so “well educated” on the matter, we don’t tend to question these outmoded assumptions. I’m grateful Sawyer did. I find it slightly ironic that more people are likely to have these beliefs questioned in the context of science fiction than in so-called real life, but then again, sci-fi is great for that sort of thing.
Now, if I could chat with him on the pesky matter of what constitutes benign in the context of the Indian Act….
NOTES
1.Brent, “2015 Alberta Book Awards,” On Spec (blog), September 11, 2015, https://onspecmag.wordpress.com/.
2.As a geeky aside, in 2015, I had the opportunity to attend ceremony in Serpent River First Nation, and we drove by Sudbury, which is close to the neutrino observatory that was housed in INCO’s Creighton Mine (in operation between 1999–2006). This is the crucible of Sawyer’s Neanderthal Parallax, and well… It was really cool. Hush.
3.Dan Simmons, The Rise of Endymion (New York: Bantam Books, 1998).
4.Robert J. Sawyer, Hominids (New York: Tor, 2002); Robert J. Sawyer, Humans (New York: Tor, 2003); Robert J. Sawyer, Hybrids (New York: Tor, 2003).
5.Sawyer, Humans, 35.
6.The “original affluent society” theory was first put forth by Marshall Sahlins in 1972, suggesting early hunter-gatherers only worked between three to five hours a day in food production, and the remaining time was possible to spend in leisure. As you can imagine, some people dispute this theory.
7.Sawyer, Humans, 173–174.
8.A 19th-century social theory about the evolution of cultures and societies wherein Western civilization is the pinnacle of evolutionary achievement and one can get there by following a single line moving from most primitive to most civilized.
9.Sid Meier, Civilization, video game, 1995, http://www.civilization.com/en/home/. If you’d like a video game with a more Indigenous point of view, try my game, Idle No More: Blockade. It’s free! Sorry, it only works on PCs. When you click the download link, you’ll be sent to a dropbox link and asked to download an exe. file. I promise it isn’t a virus! Download it here: https://www.dropbox.com/s/k0gvjst7inm54j6/Idle%20No%20More.exe?dl=0. As Hugh Goldring of Ad Astra Comix points out, it’s “not much of a video game, but it’s a hell of a story!” Heh.
10.Christopher Wanjek, “The Tongue Map: Tasteless Myth Debunked,” livescience.com (blog), August 29, 2006 (04:19am), http://www.livescience.com/7113-tongue-map-tasteless-myth-debunked.html. The same goes for the tongue map! The idea that your tongue has four areas to taste – sweet, sour, salty, and bitter – is all wrong!
19
The Myth of Authenticity
Okay, folks, it’s time. Say it with me: traditions aren’t technology-dependent.
I feel like I’ve said this so often, it should be indelibly emblazoned on the mind of every person who has ever lived, but the sad fact of my limited vocal reach requires me to repeat myself – and really, it’s okay. I like exploring this concept.
What the heck am I talking about, you ask? As always, I’m talking about misconceptions. Some of them are even funny!
Often they’re hunting-related:
A:That wasn’t a traditional hunt; they used high-powered rifles, not bows and arrows!
B:And they should have dragged the deer home with their teeth, too, right?
A:Well, I guess if that’s the tradition….
Sometimes they’re communication-related:
A:Some traditional Indian she is, with her Facebook and iPhone.
B:You’re going to say something about smoke signals, right?
A:Well, you know, however you guys traditionally used to talk to each other, sure….
Often they are related to living conditions:
A:Oh, a house, hey, real traditional that! How do you like all that nontraditional running water, anyway?
B:You mean the nonpotable water that isn’t safe to drink? Oh, man, I hate that stuff.
A:You know what I meant….
Aaaaaand there are plenty of other examples. I am always amazed how much people seem to know about our traditions. You know, the next time you’re not sure about a traditional practice, I suggest skipping the whole thing with the Elders. I bet you could zip on over to the Internet and get the real scoop in nanoseconds! Try the National Post comments section – it’s full of ancient wisdom!
Okay, but for serious.
The idea that Indigenous traditions require us to use technologies that were only available to us precontact, or more generously, slightly post-contact, is silly. If silly was all we were dealing with, then I’d let it be. But silly ends up translating into policy, and I have to take that seriously. I’ll give you an example.
Back in 2004, King Ralph1 signed an Interim Métis Harvesting Agreement (IMHA) with the Métis Nation of Alberta.2 Now, this former Premier of Alberta didn’t always act with class,3 but this was a pretty groundbreaking agreement. If you are unaware of this, until the Powley decision in 2003, neither the federal nor provincial governments really recognized a Métis right to hunt.4 Powley was applied pretty narrowly, so it still did not grant province-wide hunting rights, but the IMHA was the first step toward doing exactly that. Sort of. (Oh, please, don’t make me go into the many problems with having a provincially legislated framework for the exercise of inherent Aboriginal rights. It’s late and I just want to pretend it’s simple, okay?)
&
nbsp; Before you anticipate the swelling music of victory, you should know the IMHA was scrapped once Steady Eddy5 took over, and things have gone back to the traditional tale of Métis hunters having to fight their cases out individually (and at much greater expense to the taxpayer than a negotiated agreement) in the courts.
Back to the point. Although the IMHA seemed like a better way to approach the issue than forcing us into the courts every time we wanted to assert our right to hunt, there were some silly interpretations being applied, based on notions of what is “traditional.”
The IMHA mentioned fishing with nets, specifically. Some Métis were being ticketed for fishing with a rod and reel instead of the more “traditional” gill nets.
That sound you’re probably not hearing is me rolling my eyes.
Many of the men from my community were traditional fishers. They fished back when you could actually eat what you caught from Lac Ste. Anne. You can bet that as the technology improved, they were right there using it. I’m not talking about camping out for a week to get the new iRod, and they kept the know-how so that when all they had were the materials at hand, they weren’t left without a way to fish. The point wasn’t what they were fishing with; it was that they were catching fish.
The arbitrary decision to say, “That isn’t a traditional practice if you’re using ‘new’ technology,” freezes us in time, and for no good purpose. It would be like me telling you that you don’t get to travel anywhere if you’re not doing it in a horse and buggy. Or, that unless you wear your powdered wig, you don’t get to dance if you wanna, so just leave your friends behind.
It would be like me saying your legal system is invalid because you no longer have the Courts of Chancery, and I have decided only your pre-1740 way of life is “traditional.”
Just look at Canadian property law if you’d like a sense of how you can be both traditional and modern. The rules governing what you can do with your land, what rights you have in your land, and who you can pass it along to are all based in feudal notions of ownership. I’m a geek, so I think this history is actually pretty fascinating, but I’m not going to insist you ditch computers and start administering the Torrens system via clerks with quills and ink bottles, and reinstate the feudal system in the meantime. That would be pointless.
Indigenous Writes Page 21