The authors of a recent scholarly paper suggest that the indigenous minorities of Malaysia—the Orang Asli—might have to sacrifice their lifestyles and cultures in order to achieve digital parity with the rest of the country. The basic reason is that the Malaysian government has articulated a goal of having a modern, completely computer literate, society by 2020. Aboriginal peoples like the Semai stand in the way of the nation achieving this seemingly worthwhile goal.

Asian Social ScienceThe study by Rugayah Hashim and his colleagues, published last year in the journal Asian Social Science, focused on the small Semai village of Kampung Bukit Terang, in the Kampar District of Perak State. The authors sampled 40 people in the village of between 104 and 130 people. The questionnaires were distributed by college student assistants who had to help some of the illiterate people respond. Out of the 40 questionnaires distributed, 39 were completed by 12 males and 27 females, who ranged in age from less than 16 to more than 36.

The results reveal that nearly 70 percent of the respondents, 27 out of 39, either have never gone to school or have only attended through the primary level, grade six or below. The remaining 12 respondents have gone to school through the secondary grades.

Computer literacy skills among the 39 Semai are on a par with their education levels. Out of the 39 people, 30 had no idea how to use emails. Similarly, 30 people were unable to use word processing software. Abilities to name computer parts were similar: 28 couldn’t name anything. Abilities to use a computer mouse, to surf the Web, and to use search engines were all similar: 26 to 28, two thirds or more, did not have those skills.

The results, not surprisingly, show that the Semai are excluded digitally from the rest of Malaysian society. The article points out that, in the nation as a whole, 98 percent of adults over 15 are literate, and 56 percent use the Internet. That is, there is an educational divide as well as a digital divide between the Semai and the rest of the country.

The authors state that the government has articulated a “People first, Performance now” policy, which, they argue, should be applied to the Semai. But the Semai are economically disadvantaged, they say, which affects their attainment of digital literacy. The Semai could achieve socio-economic inclusion, they argue, if they had enough training and time.

The concluding sentence of the article reveals the basic attitude of the researchers. “By continuously compounding the benefits of education, the mindset of the [Orang Asli] can be adapted to accept that times have moved on and that the flora and fauna can no longer sustain their livelihood.”

In other words, the Semai have to change, to abandon much of their forest-based culture and ways, in order to join the mainstream of modern Malaysia—for their own good. The authors do not examine the values of modernity in contemporary Malaysian life, much less those of the Semai village, and they do not show why the former are necessarily superior to the latter.

Their basic position is that economic advantages, and advanced education, should lead to higher levels of computer literacy, all of which are good and necessary in order to be a modern Malaysian. It is not at all clear why the Semai in Bukit Terang should adopt modernity if they don’t want to—it is just a given that everyone should want to be part of the modern nation.

More to the point, the authors do not examine Semai culture in any way to find out if it has any value, much less if it is worth modifying or abandoning. Worse, they don’t indicate if they have talked with the Semai themselves to find out what they want out of life, or what values in their traditional culture they feel are important to keep.

Hashim et al. seem to feel as if they have all the answers. The fundamental values of anyone’s life should be literacy, and especially computer literacy. Thus, the Semai of Bukit Terang are mostly failures, as their numbers so clearly reveal. Do they feel that Semai culture as a whole is also a failure? That’s not clear.

It is a shame that the authors could not suspend their preconceptions long enough to learn the virtues of Semai society. Had they interviewed the Semai themselves, they might have produced a valuable report showing the ways the people themselves want to modernize and change—and possibly fit computer literacy into their lives.

Hashim, Rugayah, et al. 2012. “Digital Inclusion and Lifestyle Transformation among the Orang Asli: Sacrificing Culture for Modernity?” Asian Social Science 8(12): 80-87

A news report in the Times of India last week connected Paliyan plant knowledge, ancient Tamil poetry, and the work of modern natural scientists. A Tamil poem is the focus of the story.

Flower bunch of the Ashoka TreeDuring the so-called Sangam period of history in South India, from approximately 100 BCE to 100 CE, a court poet named Kabilar, also spelled Kapilar, wrote a lengthy poem called the “Kurincippattu” or “Kurinjipaatu.” A Wikipedia article provides an overview of it.

The 261 line work describes the mountainous terrain of Tamil Nadu where a hero and heroine have fallen in love. They enjoy frequent trysts, but they are afraid to tell their parents of their relationship. When they cannot arrange to meet, however, the girl misses her boyfriend so desperately that she falls ill and starts to waste away. Her parents are mystified about her illness until a girlfriend tells them the truth, but she relates their story in such a way that they approve of the match.

In the course of the story, the poet refers to 99 different plants growing in the mountains of Tamil Nadu, including, for instance, one referred to as the pinti (Saraca indica L.), now called the Ashoka tree (Saraca asoca). An endangered forest tree that originated in the Western Ghats, it is widely revered in India and Sri Lanka for its many historical and mythological associations, as well as for the beauty of its colorful orange blossoms.

The 99 flowers of the Kurincippattu have fascinated a contemporary zoologist who has had a life-long passion for Tamil literature and culture, and especially for works of the Sangam period. C. Ravi, a 36-year old assistant professor of zoology at Thiagarajar College in the city of Madurai, recently combined his two interests into an interdisciplinary search for the 99 plants mentioned in the famous poem.

He enlisted the help of a student, T. Boopalan, and a botanist, Prof. S. Ganesan, and the three combed the Sathuragiri Hills and the Megamalai Hills for the flowers. Of the famed 99 flowers, they found 46—18 in Sathuragiri and 28 in Megamalai. He presented the results of their search on Tuesday last week at a national conference titled “Biodiversity—Green Strategies for Sustainable Development” held in Chennai. Unfortunately, the Times of India article did not mention the names of any of the plants they had found.

While the locations of these plants in the hills of Tamil Nadu may have been a mystery to science, the Paliyans clearly knew about them already. Prof. Ravi said that the local tribal peoples, notably the Paliyans, have been using the flowers and other parts of the plants for their herbal and medicinal values for many years. Prof. Ganesan added, “the tribals of Sathuragiri and Megamalai are good herbalists and know the ethno-botanical importance of many plants. They don’t go to doctors, but nurture the plants and use them extensively in their food and for medicines.”

The scholars feel that more of the plants mentioned in the ancient poem could also be found, though probably in more isolated, more remote areas of the mountain ranges. It was not clear from the article how much they discussed the plant locations with the Paliyan people.

Another attendee at the conference, Sheela Rani Chunkuth, spoke up to urge the preservation of the traditional knowledge of the Paliyans and the other tribal societies. She said, “in a generation or two much of this knowledge will be lost. It is up to this generation to learn about traditional medicine.”

Alarming news about the brutal ways Botswana has been treating the G/wi and the other San peoples of the Kalahari sometimes seems to never end. One story last week indicated that government repressions have increased, but another report was much more positive.

Rural Botswana police stationThe good news first. The positive report was that the Botswana Police Service has begun training San people for work as police officers. Boeletswe Gobotswang, Assistant Police commissioner and Deputy Director of the Botswana Police College, confirmed the report.

He indicated that the Police Commissioner directed the college to begin recruiting people from the San communities for training. Initially, the agency intended to recruit 30 San for inclusion among the 160 new officers selected for 12 months of training. However, due to competition for the positions, only eight finally qualified.

The Commissioner stated that including the San people as trained officers will help end “miscommunication” during police investigations. He also said that including them in the police force will help break down barriers between government agencies and the San communities.

The second, more negative, news story gave further details about the government’s decision to prevent the San people living in the Central Kalahari Game Reserve (CKGR) from gathering food in the desert, as they have been doing for millennia.

According to Survival International, a human rights NGO based in London, three children were jailed the week before last for possessing antelope meat. The government has outlawed hunting in the CKGR. The children were released subsequently, but SI has learned that other incidents of intimidation and harassment have also occurred in recent weeks.

Amogelang Segootsane was beaten up by wildlife officials on January 9th because he had wild fruits and berries in his possession. They told him that the wild foods were “for animals, not human[s].” He was hospitalized as a result.

Another San man told SI that they were being harassed and hunted by the Botswana police because of tourism. The police especially hound the indigenous people if they suspect they have been gathering wild foods, he alleged. “The Bushmen of the CKGR cannot eat, cannot drink. How will they survive without food?” he asked rhetorically.

Stephen Corry, Director of SI, noted on January 15th that the government of Botswana has used the values of conservation and protection of wildlife as an excuse for its latest abuses of the San societies. And, he indicated, Ian Khama, the president of Botswana, is on the board of Conservation International, an American NGO that is well known for advocating the protection of the natural environment worldwide. “The American NGO obviously knows its board member’s atrocious human rights record,” Corry said.

The government’s first major effort to destroy the G/wi society, starting more than a decade ago, was to forcibly remove them from their homes in the CKGR. They were relocated into deplorable resettlement communities. They finally won a suit in the nation’s High Court in 2006 which guaranteed them both the right to return to the desert and the right to resume their pre-exile mode of subsistence.

The government then tried to prevent them from having access to water in their desert communities. After some years of legal wrangling, Botswana’s Court of Appeals in 2011 ruled that the government was completely wrong and ordered it to allow the G/wi, and the other San people, to drill wells for water at their own expense.

Their latest repressive measure, announced in November, has been to deny them the right to hunt and gather food. If it can’t force them out, or prevent them from having drinking water, it can at least starve them into submission—under the guise of conservation, of course.

It is not clear why the government persists in its hostility to the San peoples. It appeared in the earlier years of the seemingly endless court battles as if the major issue was one of control of diamond wealth. For reasons that are not completely clear, it now seems as if government officials feel the San may somehow interfere with tourism. The motives, the reasoning, are obscure.

Asked if the community would take a united stand against the shale gas industry, the Amish man slowly shakes his head. “We try to avoid conflict,” he tells his visitors. A short ways behind his farmhouse, a hydraulic fracturing, or fracking, rig has been making loud thudding noises around the clock for weeks, disturbing the peaceful family with nine children that bought the property and settled in rural Lawrence County, western Pennsylvania, 18 years ago.

Marcellus Shale gas well padElizabeth Royte, the author of a January Web Exclusive article in OnEarth, the environmental magazine of the Natural Resource Defense Council, focuses her piece on the threats that fracking the Marcellus Shale formation pose to the air, water, and quality of life for rural residents of Pennsylvania. She accompanied a local environmental activist around the county recently to find out what is going on as the controversial fracking expands. Lawrence County, near Youngstown, Ohio, had only 26 wells as of June 2012, a small number compared to Washington County further south in western Pennsylvania that has 1,795 wells, or Bradford County, in northeastern Pennsylvania, which has 896.

The issue for the rural residents of Pennsylvania is not only the noise from the massive drilling rigs, it is also the air and water pollution the drilling generates, and the disruption and noise from thousands of large trucks traveling local roads to get to the drilling sites every day. Some rural residents, as Ms. Royte finds out, are quite enthusiastic about the drilling—especially those who have sold off leases and made a lot of money. Others are heatedly opposed. The Amish quietly side with the opposition, for the most part.

Along with local environmental activist Carrie Hahn, the author visits Fred Kingery, a financier and the owner of a 100 acre tract of land directly across the road from Ms. Hahn’s house. Mr. Kingery does not live on the property on which he has sold a gas lease. Justifying his gas lease sale, he denies that combustion of hydrocarbons is warming the earth, and he argues that further development of shale gas resources from the Marcellus formation will help America achieve greater energy independence.

Hahn tells him abruptly that her house, her property, is screwed if a drilling rig were to be erected across the road from her. “I wouldn’t want one across from my house either,” he admits, “but that’s just how it is.” He adds, “It’s not about the money. It’s all about energy independence.” He goes on to say that the noise and disruption of the energy extraction process is all a necessary part of progress.

The 400 Amish families who live around New Wilmington, in Lawrence County, are mostly opposed to the drilling, but some are ambivalent because they sold gas leases on their land long before the fracking boom started a few years ago. Instead of the $3,500 per acre that current land owners are getting for signing leases, they got $3.00 per acre. Yet those leases, which the land owners thought meant only the small drilling rigs of the time, evidently also give the companies the right to come back and erect much larger, more intrusive, drilling pads for the fracking process.

Fracking involves drilling straight down a mile or so into the Marcellus Shale formation, then turning the hole on a right angle, and drilling for thousands of feet horizontally within the Marcellus. Then, the driller pumps a water/sand/chemical fluid mixture into the well at high pressure to fracture the rocks, allowing the trapped gas to flow out along the pipeline.

Opponents contend that the drilling fluids contain many dangerous chemicals that could harm the ground water and that the process also releases harmful pollutants into the air. Industry sources deny those dangers. The money, along with the noise and pollution, that the drilling brings into rural Pennsylvania and some nearby states, divides communities.

Ms. Hahn visits one Amish farmer whom the author calls Andy Miller, a pseudonym. He sold off his gas drilling rights many years ago for a pittance, and now he is faced with the possibility of big drilling pads on his land. The new drilling pads would be several acres in size, and would include a lot of equipment and noise—large drilling rigs, storage tanks, compressors, pipes, flare towers, diesel generators, office trailers, and the like. Plus, drilling pads are serviced by up to 1,000 large trucks per day. A quiet rural forest or farm field is transformed into an industrial zone.

Mr. Miller sold his rights to Atlas, a company that was bought up by Chevron in 2011. He admits he has used the money he made from his gas lease to pay for some things he needed, such as new drainage tiles in his fields. But he is opposed to the threatened additional developments. “We don’t want huge gas companies coming here because of the heavy pollution, the traffic, and so much money,” he tells Hahn and the reporter. “When money rules, a lot of bad things happen to a community,” he concludes.

Atlas drilled a small, shallow, gas well some years ago, but, surprisingly, Mr. Miller has managed to keep the Marcellus Shale gas developers at bay. He denounced a gas company representative who tried to visit his property on a Sunday. He refused another his permission to gain access to his land to conduct seismic mapping, evidently a process that he has no obligation to allow. Ms. Royte writes that she pressed him to explain how he could legally deny access to the representatives of the gas drillers, but the Amishman avoided answering the question.

As in all such controversies, human motivations are often confused and conflicted. The journalist points out that while it is tempting to contrast the low-tech Amish with the high-tech drilling pads, the issues are not so simple. The Amish make individual decisions about their lands—so long as they don’t violate the Ordnung and community moral standards.

They have expenses and taxes to pay, like everyone else, and they are often tempted by the stories and promises of the landmen who try to talk them into signing leases. And they can feel the usual emotions toward others who waited a few years and got a thousand times more per acre.

The Natural Resources Defense Council launched a Community Fracking Defense Project last year to provide policy and legal help to local governments in Pennsylvania, Ohio, New York, North Carolina, and Illinois that want to try and control the development of shale gas drilling. This current article in OnEarth, with its interesting focus on the Amish, gives an effective overview of the hazards to rural America from the shale gas boom.

Royte, Elizabeth. 2013. “Fracking the Amish.” OnEarth. January 10, 2013. http://www.onearth.org/article/fracking-the-amish. Accessed January 21, 2013.

The Tristan Islanders celebrated what they call “Old Year’s Night,” the last night of December, with the usual revelry this year—and with a couple of effective speeches thrown in. Descriptions and photos of the event were posted on the Tristan website last week.

Ian Lavarello

The Chief Islander, Ian Lavarello, spoke about the events of 2012 in a most inspiring fashion. He highlighted the celebration on the island of the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee and the publicity that the Tristanians gained worldwide for their unusual way of commemorating the event—a bonfire composed of a large pile of invasive plants. “It’s a good indication of how Tristan’s unique way of life is now being recognised as something very special in the wider world,” he said.

Lavarello also singled out the construction of the thatched roof house, built cooperatively by a group of Islanders and intended both as a museum piece for visitors and a way of keeping alive the traditions of the past for younger Tristanians.

The Chief Islander described an agreement reached with South Africa, which provides for the help that country will continue to give Tristan in educating Tristanian children, beyond the lower grades that they can handle in their own settlement. The Islanders do not want to avoid the challenges of modern life. Lavarello said that, hard as it is for the youngsters to leave their island homes, even temporarily, it is only by having children achieve their highest potentials that Tristan can hope to survive and prosper in the future.

Mr. Lavarello dealt with several practical matters in his speech. He indicated that the island’s claims against the companies that insured the M.S. Olivia, the huge bulk carrier that ran aground on Nightingale Island in March 2011, have all finally been settled. He also discussed the improvements that are sorely needed for the island hospital and the harbor.

Mr. Lavarello was not, himself, able to attend a meeting of the Joint Ministerial Council in London during the year, but the U.K. Representative, Chris Bates, stood in for him and made some progress on those major Tristan issues. The representative was able to discuss them with the Minister for the Overseas Territories, and then with the Prime Minister, David Cameron. He reported back to Mr. Lavarello that Mr. Cameron seemed to be well versed on the issues related to a possible replacement Tristan harbor.

The Chief Islander said that island knitters are now making products for export to New Zealand, and that the island has a new firm that is designing and marketing their stamps to collectors. And, most heartening, the finances of the island appear to be improving—at least they are “turning the corner,” he said.

The Island Administrator, Sean Burns, opened his speech with a message from the Governor of St. Helena, Ascension and Tristan da Cunha, Mark Capes. Governor Capes said that he had had an audience with the Queen earlier in December, and she had asked about the progress on Tristan. Governor Capes told the Queen that he will be making his first visit to Tristan in November 2013.

Mr. Burns reflected on the positive events of the past year, much as Mr. Lavarello had done. He singled out the settlement of the case over the Olivia, the need for a new and better harbor, and the completion of the thatched house project. On the latter, he said that the team working on the thatched house demonstrated “a lesson to everyone in what hard work, skill and team work can achieve.”

He also mentioned the financial situation of the island, but his take was that while it had gotten better, “it was still precarious.” However, the Island Council was able to give government employees their first salary raises in many years. The First Night revelry of the Islanders, referred to as Okalolies, a long-time tradition of Tristan, evidently occurred in the usual spirits again this year. The Tristan website posted some pictures of the mummery.

In response to several years of protests and demonstrations by the Nubians, the Egyptian government finally announced last Friday that it will grant them 5,320 acres of land around the shores of Lake Nasser. Many Nubian villages, in both southern Egypt and northern Sudan, were flooded when the High Dam at Aswan was built in the 1960s. The refugees from Old Nubia, their homes destroyed by the reservoir, Lake Nasser, were inadequately compensated—or resettled on infertile, non-agricultural properties at a distance from the Nile River.

The shore of Lake NasserAl-Ahram, an official news organ of the government, reported that the 5,320 acres will include lands suitable for agriculture adjacent to the lake. Previous plans to give the discontented Nubians land without any agricultural potential were rejected by the Nubian community. At least some of them have a dream of farming along the Nile once again, as their ancestors did for millennia.

Evicted from their villages, the Nubians have been demanding justice for decades. The sit-ins, plus the occupation and torching of the Aswan Governate building in the city of Aswan in September 2011, appear to have caught the attention of government officials.

Or, perhaps, the new administration of President Morsi is concerned about fair treatment for the Nubian people. The newly-announced government plan also includes the right to Nubian ownership of homes that they have occupied for at least 100 years.

The announcement included a commitment by the government to improve the capacity and performance of three different wells in Nubian places called Adandan and Al Qastal. The government will pursue that project with the assistance of the World Food Program. The English-language story in Al-Ahram did not report the reactions by the Nubians to the announcement.

The consumption of alcohol poses a severe threat to the peace and stability of Ladakh, according to speakers at a one-day program held in the Ladakhi capital, Leh, last week. The Leh city police department organized the program, titled “Negative Impact of Alcohol on Society,” to alert the people of the district about the dangers of alcoholism.

beer concealed in a teapotA range of community representatives listened to several presentations. P. Sonam, the Additional Superintendent of Police, Leh, welcomed participants by explaining that the point of the meeting was to raise awareness throughout Ladakh of the menace that alcoholism can play in a small, closed society such as theirs. He blamed alcohol as the primary cause of most recent crimes and accidents in Ladakh. The people need to stem the problem before it blights their future, he urged.

Dr. Tsering Lhadol pointed out that alcohol is the main source of problems that harm Ladakhi society, such as the introduction and spread of HIV/AIDS. She urged Ladakhis to make decisive efforts to end the over-consumption and abuse of alcohol.

A Councilor, Tsering Angmo, said that Ladakhis have already witnessed many unpleasant, alcohol-related incidents, which particularly threaten the younger generation. She said that doctors and the police can’t really stop the spread of alcoholism. The whole society must take responsibility for rooting out the problem.

The Deputy Superintendent of Police, Abdul Khaliq, described how the police department has been working to control the illegal trade in alcohol. He said his department could take credit both for lessening the illegal commercial activity, and for reducing alcohol-caused highway accidents.

Twewang Dorjey, the Police Inspector, indicated that between 70 and 80 percent of vehicle accidents in Leh District were caused by alcohol, which has resulted in 30 to 40 fatalities annually, not counting the much larger numbers of injuries. He urged the public representatives present at the meeting to take their own initiatives to curb alcohol consumption, especially at the village level throughout Ladakh. That might help preserve a healthy future for the Ladakhi people. The news report did not indicate if any of the speakers dealt with threats that alcohol may pose to the traditional Ladakhi peacefulness.

Ladakh is not the only peaceful society to recognize the dangers of alcohol. The Paliyans and the Ifaluk Islanders are others who have a strong fear that any use of alcohol could prompt violence. But Inspector Dorjey’s comment that alcohol use at the village level is a paramount issue for Ladakhis is useful, since, except for the small city of Leh, most Ladakhis live in high mountain villages. The literature about those communities is a good place to look for further details about the nature of Ladakhi alcohol consumption—and its relationship to their peacefulness.

Janet Rizvi, in her overview of Ladakh society (1994), points out that the alcoholic beverage of choice in Ladakh, and throughout the greater Tibetan region, is chang, a mildly alcoholic beer made out of barley water. It is consumed along with butter tea as a major ingredient of the Ladakhi diet.

During the long winter evenings, men and women both participate in family events and celebrations, and the adults will consume quantities of chang in the process. In contrast, Rizvi writes, in Kargil and the other Muslim sections of Ladakh, the people consume much less, if any, chang due to their strict religious prohibitions against alcohol. The Buddhists of the Leh District are not so constrained.

Dr. Keith Ball, a medical expert visiting Buddhist Ladakhi families in the Zangskar Valley in 1980, observed the wide consumption of chang. He noted that the beverage is provided to very young children, even those that were still nursing, but an informant assured him that alcoholism was unknown. However, he wrote, “We noticed that the people became very merry as the chang parties progressed (p.409).”

The best source for the contemporary uses of chang in Ladakhi villages is the recent book by Fernanda Pirie, Peace and Conflict in Ladakh (2007). During her field work in a remote village, Pirie found that chang continued to be consumed constantly during all social occasions. This was especially true during the winter when temperatures routinely go below -30 degrees C and people normally stay indoors.

The critical issue is the affect the consumption of chang may have on the stability and the resolution of conflicts in the village. Villagers criticized such anti-social behaviors as displays of anger, selfishness, laziness—and the over consumption of chang. They stigmatized all those behaviors as being morally wrong. But they were not so much opposed to the drinking of the alcoholic beverage itself, as to the tendency of people—particularly men—to drink in excess and then to cause alcohol-induced aggressive incidents.

People would regularly brew the chang, offer it to others, and consume it in large quantities. If a man (rarely a woman) would return home from a social occasion drunk, he would fall asleep in front of the stove and the others in the house would laugh indulgently. As one informant told Pirie, “most of us just fall asleep, but chang makes some men feel tall and then they start arguing (p.72).” The people feared the social disruptions of arguments, and possible fighting, that the alcohol might cause.

Pirie emphasizes that the Ladakhi village people she worked with did not have a rosy view of their own peacefulness. When she commented to one man that the villagers did not seem to quarrel very much, he quickly contradicted her. The village people have far too many arguments, he assured her, which is a very serious situation. Besides, he added, “we drink too much chang (p.126).”

Reading between the lines of the news report from Ladakh last week, it is clear that the Leh police are trying to build upon well-established concerns in the society about the harm that alcohol can do for social peace and stability when it is consumed to excess.

The Montana Supreme Court voted last week 4 to 3 against the Big Sky Hutterite Colony, throwing out its suit to overturn the discriminatory provisions of a state anti-Hutterite law passed in 2009.

Cut Bank, Montana, welcome signThe colony, located near Cut Bank in northwestern Montana, had sued the state and won a lower court decision, which found that a law requiring colony businesses to provide workers’ compensation insurance for their members violated their freedom of religion. A state legislator, Chuck Hunter, who had introduced the controversial legislation in 2009, freely admitted that his bill was intended to target the Hutterites.

The Hutterites claim that their workers are actually members of a religious community, not employees, and that their work as part of colony businesses is an expression of their religious faith. Since they live in communal situations, they receive no wages—much less insurance benefits—and their “compensation” is the membership in the commune, with all the food, lodging, and other benefits provided. They can make no claims against their colonies, nor can they take money for themselves, without risking excommunication.

Because the colony businesses do not have to pay their workers wages, much less pay for their insurance coverage, they have lower costs than other Montana firms. Contractors in the state became envious of the fact that the colony construction companies frequently underbid them. The 2009 law was designed to “level the playing field,” in the words of one of their representatives. The Hutterites won in the lower court, but lost on January 2 in the Supreme Court.

Writing for the majority, Justice Brian Morris indicated that the law requiring the colonies to provide workers’ compensation insurance does not interfere with their religious beliefs. It only regulates their commercial enterprises. He cited other cases where courts have found that government regulations of commercial enterprises carried out by religious groups did not violate their freedom of religion.

Justice James Nelson sharply disagreed. He felt that the decision violates the freedom of religion provisions of the constitutions of Montana and the U.S., only to satisfy companies that argue they are at a disadvantage in trying to compete with the colonies and their lower costs. “Apparently, henceforth, ‘no law’ prohibiting the free exercise of religion does not actually mean ‘no law’ in Montana. Rather, it means no law, except to the extent that the law greases the squeaky wheal of a powerful industry,” the justice wrote.

One of the other judges who was in the minority, Justice Jim Rice indicated that the 2009 law may have given the appearance of applying to all Montana employers, but in fact it was specifically aimed at the Hutterites. He noted from the record of the debates in the legislature that the discussions were solely concerned with the Hutterite minority in the state. Judge Rice added that the system of forcing the Hutterite businesses to pay for insurance coverage that they will never use, and for which they will never receive any benefit, “defies logic and violates public policy.”

The Inuit Circumpolar Council and the Saami Council, major organizations for both societies, have developed an effective working relationship, a testimony to long traditions of cooperation. A journal article by Shayna Plaut published in 2012 explores the relations between the two groups.

Aqqaluk LyngeThe theme of the article is the importance of cooperation. The author quotes Aqqaluk Lynge, former president of the ICC, who believes that the close relationship is unique and positive. “You don’t find that close cooperation internationally [among other organizations] but the Inuit and the Saami do have it,” he said (p.204). “This can serve as a model for other Indigenous peoples.” He also emphasizes the importance of personal connections, trust, and mutual support.

The Saami, reindeer herders, fishers, and farmers, number about 70,000 people in northern Norway, Sweden, Finland, and northwestern Russia. More than twice as many Inuit, traditionally a hunting and fishing society, live in Greenland, Canada, Alaska, and northeastern Russia. People in both societies are proud of their differing spiritual worldviews. Both groups also proudly retain their distinctive child rearing methods, health practices, and clothing styles.

While most of the Inuit and Saami live in states that, today at least, generally respect the organizing patterns of their minority, indigenous peoples, these conditions did not always prevail. Both groups were subject, historically, to attempts by some of their host states to annihilate their cultures. In several cases, state governments tried to eliminate the uses of the indigenous languages by educating children in boarding schools outside the traditional territories of their parents.

While there are some similarities in their histories, the Saami and the Inuit have fundamentally different cultures and traditions. But the representatives of the two peoples saw that they faced enough similar issues to warrant closer cooperation.

The ICC and the Saami Council began forging links at a conference in 1973 and strengthened them at another meeting in 1975. Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, the ties became still stronger. The two groups worked together on the Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, learned to share their traditional knowledge, and, just as importantly, shared their experts and their lawyers.

They have both learned, over the years, that one of the challenges they have in common is a need to overcome their histories of being the subjects of repressive colonialism. They have learned that the strategies they pursue in interacting with their host countries are similar. As a result, the two organizations learn from one another and share their approaches to their respective issues. This mutual support, according to the author, is emblematic of the basic habits of cooperation endemic in both societies.

The author argues that the harsh northern climate in which they both live fosters patterns of cooperation with outsiders as an adaptive mechanism for survival. To extend that argument, she writes that forming international councils to represent and promote shared interests is a natural outgrowth of that mechanism. The cooperation between the two umbrella organizations represents a still larger stage of international cooperation, one that grows out of the respective traditions and histories of the Inuit and the Saami.

Duane Smith, the Director of the ICC-Canada, stated simply that cooperation is an obvious necessity. “We work together because it is to both of our benefit. Why wouldn’t we cooperate if it helps us both (p.199-200)?”

Both organizations firmly believe that people must first commit themselves to their own cultures. Only after cherishing their own ways can the Inuit and the Saami consider having links with people in the other region. “You cannot contribute to the global society unless you have a firm solid basis in who you are,” says one Saami leader (p.200).” Northern identity is thus built on diversity—and pride in it.

Both the Saami and the Inuit recognize that they have traditionally solved their conflicts through effectively avoiding and resolving disputes. This pattern has fostered a style of politics, similar in both societies, of attempting to solve issues through open, parliamentary style negotiations and effective diplomacy. In essence, modern political practices among the Inuit and the Saami represent contemporary ways of building on their traditional styles of getting along.

A unique expression of the cooperative spirit between the two organizations was the creation of the Arctic Council, an intergovernmental organization that both groups helped organize. One of their major goals in helping found the Arctic Council was to make sure that they would remain substantial partners—strong contributors to the decision making process.

They wanted to ensure that the Arctic Council would work on a consensus basis rather than a contentious one—an approach that fits in with their own traditions. Although the two groups do not vote in the Arctic Council, they do have the power to block votes. Thus, the Arctic Council has become a collaborative group operating through consensus, with the two indigenous organizations having much larger positions than simply ceremonial ones.

Ms. Plaut devotes a portion of her article to Saami-Inuit cooperation that has developed outside the purview of the two major organizations. One area for cooperative efforts has been educational exchanges. The University of the Arctic, a non-degree granting institution that functions without a physical campus, helps promote plurality, cultural diversity, and an Arctic identity. It is a non-traditional institution that fosters collaboration and cooperation. In effect, the University pulls together more than 120 member institutions in the Arctic region.

The author describes other cooperative exchanges and cultural programs that help the Saami and the Inuit develop people-to-people interactions based on the commonalities of life in the North. Her article highlights the continuing importance of the cooperative peacefulness that characterizes both the Inuit and the Saami, despite their many differences.

Plaut, Shayna. 2012. “’Cooperation Is the Story’—Best Practices of Transnational Indigenous Activism in the North.” The International Journal of Human Rights 16(1): 193-215

Birding has become a passion for many Amish people in Ohio, and not just the ones in Holmes County who are well-known (among birders) for their skills in the annual Christmas Bird Count. An article by Suzanne Fisher published early last week provided some new perspectives on their avocation.

Magee Marsh Bird TrailMany Amish families hire vans and drivers to take large groups north to the shore of Lake Erie in the spring and fall to visit places like Magee Marsh, near the western end of the lake, where birds congregate in large numbers during their migrations before resuming their flights north or south. Bird watchers congregate with them.

The author quotes the observations of environmentalist Cheryl Harner, author of the nature blog Weedpicker’s Journal, about the large numbers of Amish groups, with many children in tow, who gather at these birding hot spots each migration season. The children are invariably quiet and orderly—they never shout or run. It’s almost as if the adults are raising their kids to be birders. She surmises that the Amish seem to have a strong respect and reverence for nature.

Ms. Harner, herself a serious birder, often visits Amish farms to check out the birds, which appear to be more numerous than on “English” farms. The reason, she feels, is the Amish use little if any pesticides, at least compared to other farmers. Without the insecticides, their fields of course have more insects, which attract more birds. She argues that while kestrels may be declining elsewhere, their numbers are increasing in the vicinity of the Amish farms.

Ms. Fisher quotes from a 2007 American Birds article by Bruce Glick on the Holmes County Christmas Bird Count, and updates his information about Amish participation in that quintessential bird-listing experience. Cheryl Harner adds that the CBC is only a male thing among the Amish. Families, including women and girls, will participate in group birding, with many children included, but the women and girls would never go birding by themselves, as the men and boys do during the CBC.

The Amish style of birding also differs from that of the “English” birders. Their teenage boys prefer to bird from their bicycles. In fact, they are committed to that style of birding. They will decline offers to drive around the countryside with other people in vehicles. They only bird from bikes. Ms. Harner repeats her admiration for the way the Amish teach their children to be quiet. They are becoming ideal little birders, even while they play.