| Despite their
different perspectives
on the natural world, shaman and wise scientist seem to be issuing
strikingly
similar messages about the underlying interconnectedness of all life
and
warnings about the deteriorating state of natural systems.Our book, Wisdom
of the Elders, is an exploration of a few of these shared
ecological
themes. It represents a search for points of intellectual, emotional,
and
poetic resonance between some of the most profound truths of modern
life
sciences–particularly evolutionary biology, genetics, and ecology–and
those
of the time-tested
nature-wisdom of First Peoples around the world, ranging from American,
Andean, and Amazonian Indians of the New World to indigenous peoples of
Africa, Southeast Asia, Australia, and beyond.
-Ed
Native Visions
of Nature
Shamans and
scientists for centuries
have asked very different kinds of questions of the cosmos. How
different are the "answers" each has elicited? One way to distill the
differences
between Native and scientific knowledge about nature is simply to list
some of the fundamental qualities of Native ecological perspectives and
contrast them with conventional scientific ones. By listing them, we do
not mean to imply that all these characteristics will necessarily be
found
in every indigenous belief system. Nor are we implying that no
scientist subscribes in any way to any of the Native viewpoints and
values
that we are suggesting. Nor do we believe our list to be exhaustive.
First,
traditional Native knowledge about the natural world tends to
view
all–or at least vast regions–of nature, often including the Earth
itself,
as inherently holy rather than profane, savage, wild, or wasteland. The
landscape itself, or certain regions of it, is seen as sacred
and
quivering with life. It is inscribed with meaning regarding the origins
and unity of all life, rather than seen as mere property to be
partitioned
legally into commercial real estate holdings.The Native Mind is imbued
with a deep sense of reverence for nature. It does not operate
from
an impulse to exercise human dominion over it.
Native wisdom sees spirit, however
one defines
that term, as dispersed throughout the cosmos or
embodied
in an inclusive, cosmos-sanctifying divine being. Spirit is not
concentrated
in a single monotheistic Supreme Being.
Native wisdom tends to assign human beings
enormous responsibility
for sustaining harmonious relations within the whole natural world
rather
than granting them unbridled license to follow personal or economic
whim.
It
regards the human obligation to maintain the balance and health of the
natural world as a solemn spiritual duty that an individual must
perform
daily–not simply as admirable, abstract ethical imperatives that can be
ignored as one chooses.
The Native Mind emphasizes the need for reciprocity–for
humans to express gratitude and make sacrifices routinely–to the
natural
world in return for the benefits they derive from it–rather than to
extract
whatever they desire unilaterally. Nature’s bounty is considered to be
precious gifts that remain intimately and inextricably embedded in its
living web rather than as "natural resources" passively awaiting human
exploitation.
Human beings are to honor nature
routinely (through
daily spiritual practice, for example, or personal prayer) rather than
only intermittently when it happens to be convenient (on Earth Day, for
example, or following a particularly moving speech or television
documentary,
or in the throes of personal despair over a pressing local
environmental
crisis). And human violations of the natural world have serious
immediate
(as well as long-term) consequences rather than comfortingly vague,
ever
"scientifically uncertain", long-term ones.
The Native Mind tends to view wisdom
and environmental
ethics as discernible in the very structure and organization of the
natural world rather than as the lofty product of human reason far
removed
from nature.
The Native Mind tends to view the universe
as the dynamic
interplay of elusive and ever-changing natural forces, not as a
vast
array of static physical objects.
It tends to see the entire natural world as
somehow alive
and animated by a single, unifying life force, whatever its local
Native
name. It does not reduce the universe to progressively smaller
conceptual
bits and pieces.
It tends to view time as circular
(or as a coil-like
fusion of circle and line), as characterized by natural cycles that
sustain all life, and as facing humankind with recurrent moral
crises–rather
than as an unwavering linear escalator of "human progress".
It tends to accept without undue anxiety
the probability
that nature will always possess unfathomable mysteries.
It does not presume that the cosmos is completely decipherable to the
rational
human mind.
It tends to view
human thought,
feelings, and communication as inextricably intertwined with
events
and processes in the universe rather than as apart from them. Indeed,
words themselves are considered spiritually potent, generative, and
somehow
engaged in the continuum of the cosmos, not neutral and disengaged from
it. The vocabulary of Native knowledge is inherently gentle and accommodating
toward nature rather than aggressive and manipulative.
The Native Mind tends to emphasize celebration
of
and participation in the orderly designs of nature instead
of rationally
"dissecting" the world.
It tends to honor as its most esteemed
elders those individuals
who have experienced a profound and compassionate reconciliation of
outer-
and inner-directed knowledge, rather than virtually anyone who has made
material achievement or simply survived to chronological old age.
It tends to reveal a
profound sense
of empathy and kinship with other forms of life, rather than a
sense
of separateness from them or superiority over them. Each species
is seen as richly endowed with its own singular array of gifts and
powers,
rather than as somehow pathetically limited compared with human beings.
Finally, it tends to
view the proper
human relationship with nature as a continuous dialogue (that is,
a two-way, horizontal communication between Homo sapiens and other
elements
of the cosmos) rather than as a monologue (a one-way, vertical
imperative).
Sacred Ecology
This unfinished litany of Native ecological
themes suggests
that there
is a fundamental division between Native and Western ecological
perspectives. Within
Native worldviews, the parts and processes of the universe are, to
varying
degrees, holy; to science, they can only be secular. Thus, this
ancient,
culturally diverse aboriginal consensus on the ecological order and the
integrity of nature might justifiably be described as a "sacred
ecology"
in the most expansive, rather than in the scientifically restrictive,
sense
of the word "ecology". For it looks upon the totality of patterns and
relationships
at play in the universe as utterly precious, irreplaceable, and worthy
of the most profound human veneration. To indigenous peoples around the
world, the sacred is, and always has been, waiting to be witnessed
everywhere–diffusely
scattered to the four directions of the winds–and "everywhen" (a term
coined by Australian Aboriginal scholar W. E. H. Stanner)–continuously,
throughout all time.
The eminent Swedish historian of religion
Åke Hultkrantz
suggests that the narrow Western term
nature seems
incapable of enfolding Native notions of a vast, spiritually charged
cosmic
continuum, in
which human society, biosphere, and the whole universe are seamlessly
rolled
into one. The Western religious dichotomy between a world
of spiritual plenitude and a world of material imperfection, a dualism
pertaining to Christian and Gnostic doctrines, he states, has no
counterpart
in American Indian thinking. Indians value highly life on Earth, and
their
religion supports their existence in the world.1
According to Alfonso Ortiz, a Tewa Indian
and well-known
anthropologist: Indian tribes put nothing above nature. Their gods are
a part of nature, on the level of nature, not supra-anything.
Conversely,
there’s nothing that is religious, versus something else that is
secular.
Native American religion pervades, informs all life.2
At the same time, it is important to
emphasize that this
inherent spiritual dimension does not mean that Native nature-wisdom is
somehow naively romantic, ethereal, or disconnected from ordinary life.
Native knowledge about nature is
firmly rooted
in reality, in keen personal observation, interaction, and thought,
sharpened
by the daily rigors of uncertain survival. Its validity rests
largely
upon the authority of hard-won personal experience–upon concrete
encounters
with game animals and arduous treks across the actual physical contours
of local landscapes, enriched by night dreams, contemplations, and
waking
visions. The junction between knowledge and experience is tight,
continuous,
and dynamic, giving rise to "truths" that are likely to be
correspondingly
intelligent, fluid, and vibrantly "alive".
This experiential
basis of knowledge,explains
Canadian anthropologist Robin Ridington, who has spent years studying
British
Columbia’s subarctic Beaver Indians, or Dunne-za, allows for a
"science"
that is negotiated in the same way that people negotiate social
relations
with one another. This does not mean that aboriginal people are
colorful
and spiritual but somehow not really connected to the real world in
which
we now live, he continues. They are real. They are translators. They
remember.
We forget or ignore what they know at our peril.
To be sure, Native attitudes toward the
natural world
are not without certain tensions. After all, nature is not only sacred
and beloved–it must daily be exploited, to some extent, in order to
survive.
Native knowledge embodies an ethos for mitigating this universal
conflict,
but it cannot be expected always to do so in perfect harmony.
Historians
suggest that Native peoples, too, have on occasion committed
environmental
"sins"–through wasteful hunting and trapping practices, for example, or
the gradual depletion of agricultural soils. But the worst of these
excesses
were generally of relatively recent vintage and occurred under the
influence
of powerful, imposed, non-Native economic incentives and value systems.
The earlier, pre-contact ecological infractions that took place
certainly
were done without the terrible technological leverage of modern Western
infractions.
Cross
Cultural Resonance
Modern science looks out upon the same
universe through
a very different lens. Through an often laborious process of debate and
discussion, the community of scientists itself agrees for a
time
upon an interpretation of some aspect of the world–a new, more
intellectually
satisfying paradigm, or model, of reality, the latest in a long,
lurching
succession of ever-provisional scientific "truths".
Despite this gulf
between Native
and scientific ways of knowing about nature, each tradition has much to
learn from the other. A cross-cultural resonance can be felt in the
ringing public
statements issued by some of our wisest and most respected elder
statesmen
of science. They speak knowingly of the genetic and evolutionary
kinship
of all species and of our fundamental dependency upon the systems of
nature.
They describe the intricate, lifelike homeostatic processes that
regulate
the chemical balance of the Earth’s oceans, soils, and atmosphere. And
they plead for a new global environmental ethos based on this
scientifically
documented unity–one that might grant all forms of life an inherent
value
and right to exist and burden human beings with a greater sense of
responsibility
for maintaining long-term ecological balances in the biosphere.
A landmark 1987 report by the World
Commission on Environment
and Development, popularly known as the-Brundtland
Report, boldly addresses the value of indigenous
ecological perspectives
to many global efforts to deal with ongoing environmental crises.
It
pleads for the prompt-restoration
of traditional land and resource rights to the world’s remaining
indigenous
and tribal peoples, and it calls for a renewed respect for their
ecological
wisdom:
These communities are the repositories of
vast accumulations
of traditional knowledge and experience that links humanity with its
ancient
origins. It is a terrible irony that as formal development reaches more
deeply into rainforests, deserts, and other isolated environments, it
tends
to destroy the only cultures that have proved able to thrive in these
environments.3
We wholeheartedly
concur with the
Brundtland Report’s stand on the
urgency
of protecting Native rights, lands, and knowledge. Native
spiritual
and ecological knowledge has intrinsic value and worth,
regardless of
its resonances with or "confirmation" by modern Western scientific
values.
As most Native authorities would be quick to point out, it is quite
capable
of existing on its own merits and adapting itself over time to meet
modern
needs. For it is, after all, a proud, perceptive, and extraordinarily
adaptive
spiritual tradition, every bit as precious, irreplaceable, and worthy
of
respect as Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, and other great
spiritual
traditions. In our view, respect for Native
spirituality
and the nature-wisdom embedded within it is inseparable from
respect
for the dignity, human rights, and legitimate land claims of all Native
peoples.
Seen in this light,
Native knowledge
and spiritual values are not simply "natural resources" (in this case,
intellectual ones) for non-Natives
to mine, manipulate, or plunder. They are, and will always be, the
precious life-sustaining property of First Peoples: sacred
symbols
encoding the hidden design of their respective universes; mirrors to
their
individual and collective identities; and ancient and irreplaceable
maps
suggesting possible paths to inner as well as ecological equilibrium
with
the wider, ever-changing world.
References
1. Åke Hultkrantz, Native
Religions of North
America (Harper and Row, 1987).
2. Alfonso Oritz, "Why Nature Hates the
White Man", interview
by Jane Bosveld, Omni (March 1990).
3. World Commission on Environment and
Development, Our
Common Future (Oxford University Press, 1987).
From Wisdom of the Elders: Honoring
Sacred Visions
of Nature by David Suzuki and Peter Knudtson. © 1992 by David
Suzuki and Peter Knudtson. Used by permission of Bantam Books, a
division
of Bantam Doubleday Publishing Group, Inc.
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