Peaceful Societies

The earthquake that devastated the Dzongu Lepcha Reserve in Sikkim on September 18th continues to produce its aftershocks—both in the local mountains and in the attitudes of the Lepcha people.

Map of Sikkim A news story last week in The Hindu, a major daily in India, reported that another minor aftershock had just hit the same region. The low-intensity tremor, 3.2 on the Richter Scale, killed two people. One man, 27 year old Sonam Wangyal, from the village of Lingdem, just south of Mangan, died when he fell off the Lingdem Bridge. The other was an 85 year old man who died of a heart attack as he rushed down the stairs of his home in the village of Nung, inside the Dzongu Reserve. The newspaper did not give the name or any further information about the old man.

A few days later, the Deccan Herald, another Indian paper, reported that the Lepcha residents of Chungtang, whose homes were devastated by the big September earthquake, are now demanding more compensation from the company that is building a nearby Teesta River hydropower dam. The people blame the earthquake on the Teesta Uria company, because it is blasting tunnels in the mountains as part of the project.

A memorandum from the 170 families in the town cited an earlier report from the Mines and Geology Department, which had warned of potential damages to homes in the area from any blasting. The earlier report, according to the memorandum, “proved beyond any doubt that the fear and apprehension of the people regarding the negative impact of the project were correct.” The memo mentioned that 20 people had already died in the area before the earthquake had even occurred.

The memorandum stressed that the people of the Chungtang area need to have their houses rebuilt by the company. It also demanded that the company should rebuild the infrastructure that the earthquake destroyed.

Part of the tragedy of the past week was described in detail by a couple news sources published in Sikkim itself. Evidently, the 85 year old man who had had a heart attack during the latest tremor and died in Nung was actually Samdup Taso, the Kanchenjunga Bongthing. He was the senior priest of the Mun faith, which is the traditional religion of the Lepcha people.

The Sikkim Times confirmed that he had died of shock during the aftershock. It reported that Samdup Taso was the last of the Kanchenjunga bongthings, the priests who performed the central rites of their faith that venerate their sacred mountain. It is not only the world’s third tallest peak, but it is also the god from which the Lepcha descended. The rites of the Kanchenjunga Bongthing used to be the central, unifying, cultural force for the people.

Dawa Lepcha, a resident of Dzongu, said that since Samdup’s son has not followed in his father’s footsteps, and the old man had not performed his rites for decades, the critical Mun rituals have now passed into history. “It is a huge loss for the Lepcha community, especially for those who knew him and his importance,” Dawa said.

The news reporter refers to a book written by Pema Wangchuk and Mita Zulca called Khangchendzonga: Sacred Summit (Gangtok: Pema Wangchuk, 2007). The work indicates that the performance of the rituals would soon be lost since Samdup Teso had discontinued performing them in the mid 1970’s. In fact, the rituals were preserved, recorded, by the Danish scholar Halfdan Siiger, who had gained the confidence of Sandup’s father, the previous Kanchenjunga Bongthing, in 1956. The elder priest had allowed him to record the rituals.

A longer article appeared in another news source, Sikkim Now, on Tuesday last week. The bulk of that piece consists of lengthy extracts from the 2007 book by Wangchuk and Zulca. It appears as if Nung is one of six small villages in the Tingvong cluster of communities, on the north side of the Talung, the major river that forms the heart of the Dzongu.

The authors maintain that the Lepcha people used to be nomadic hunter gatherers and shifting agriculturalists before they settled into permanent agriculture. Their first permanent settlement in Sikkim was in the hills north of the Talung, and specifically the Nung area, because it has the best possible view of the sacred mountain, Kanchenjunga, without intervening hills to block the view. It was only reasonable for the Lepcha to institute the worship of their god at this place.

The rituals that Samdup used to perform at Nung were the basis for Lepcha nationalistic pride. Other bongthings also offer rituals to Kanchenjunga, but the one at Nung was the most important. The secret ritual, and its accompanying processional song, would now be lost except for the recording that Siiger made and transcribed into his book The Lepchas: Culture and Religion of a Himalayan People (Copenhagen: National Museum of Denmark, 1967).

The gradual influx of Buddhism into Sikkim began to dilute the Mun nature worship several hundred years ago. The annual Kanchenjunga rites at Nung were the strongest surviving relics from the earlier era. The Bongthing from Nung used to process to the seat of Sikkim power, the capital at Gangtok, where the Chogyal, the Buddhist King, would honor him with many gifts and a symbolic yak, obtained from much higher mountains. The Bongthing would take it all back to the altar at Nung with great ceremony.

An elephant tusk, a gift of an earlier Chogyal to an earlier Bongthing, had stood next to the altar at Nung, but in recent years it has disappeared. In Wangcheck and Zulca’s 2007 account, the Bongthing lived in a dilapidated cottage, the altar had obviously not been used in decades, and the special elephant tusk, which Siiger had noted in the 1950s, had disappeared.

Wangcheck and Zulca recount various local stories about the dissolution of the once-proud ceremonies and the priestly family that had performed them. Alcohol, theft, family troubles—all were symptoms of a faith that was no longer seen as relevant. The dissolution of the Sikkim monarchy and the way the state joined the Indian union in 1975 contributed to the increasing sense of irrelevance, so the Bongthing abandoned performing the sacred rites of Kanchenjunga. The Wangcheck and Zulca account of this dying faith in the Sikkim Now blog post is a fitting tribute to the old man. He died during a mild earthquake last week, but at least 36 years before he had been helpless to stem the desertion of believers from his rituals.

The socio-economic conditions of the Birhor have been back in the news in India last week, with three different articles published relating to their food security, demographic conditions, and lack of forest environment, all of which may affect their survival.

The first report, published at the beginning of the week, discussed the death of 55 year old Ratni Birhor on September 18th in Tilra, Ichal block, Hazaribagh district, Jharkhand state. The author of the news article, Jitendra, claimed that Ratni died due to starvation. He alleged that the death was caused by the failures of the state government administration, plus the incompetence and corruption among NGOs that are getting funds designated for helping the tribal peoples.

Jitendra wrote that Ratni’s job card showed she had not worked at all, and that she had not received any food grains in the course of the previous four months. Furthermore, she was not benefiting from any old age pension support. Also, the roof of her government-provided cement block house was leaking. “She died of sheer negligence,” the journalist concluded.

A news report on September 20th had given very different information. It reported that the Hazaribagh district government was denying reports that the woman had died of starvation. Sub-divisional officer Binay Kumar, who headed an inquiry team, maintained that the woman had died of natural causes, and negative reports in the media were untrue. He said that the deceased woman, as well as other members of her family, had drawn their appropriate pension amounts of Rs 1200 (US$25) on September 12, six days before her death.

Nonetheless, Jitendra’s diatribe continued. Evidently, a fact finding team sent out by the anti-mining, pro-indigenous rights group Jharkhand Mines Area Coordination Committee (JMACC), found that when news reports were published about the suspicious death back in September, government officials quickly placed grain in the woman’s house in order to cover up her starvation. Another Birhor couple, the journalist alleges, are also on the verge of starvation.

Jitendra links this story to the eight Birhor people who died of mysterious causes back in 2008, probably due to malnutrition, though that was never clearly proven. It is clear that that tragedy, a national scandal three years ago, still reverberates in some circles in India.

On Wednesday, another news story about the Birhor pointed out that, unlike much of the rest of India, people in that society do not abort female fetuses. Birhor women give birth to as many girls as boys.

In the quaint English that the news reporter used to translate the local language, Surender Birhor said, “we think for our large family and girl child always welcomes in our community.” He added, “barely any families in the Birhor community think of family planning which is considered an outlawed. A girl child is a boon for the Birhors.”

The journalist, Ashis Sinha, writing from Bokaro, provides grim statistics about the selective abortions of female fetuses in India. The recent national census showed that for every 1000 boys between the ages of zero and six throughout the country, there are only 914 girls.

The third article, also by Mr. Sinha and published last Thursday, discussed the overall changes in the Birhor economy and society in recent decades due to the logging of their forests, which destroyed their traditional livelihoods. The author emphasized that the loss of the forests has threatened the relationships between the people and their ecosystem, as well as eliminated their traditional food sources.

Mr. Sinha concludes that one of the major problems for the Birhor is that they remain unaware of the developmental benefits and rights they can obtain from government agencies. This problem is caused by apathy within the agencies, he argues.

Last week, Tok Batin Apong resented the manner of ten Perak State Forestry officials, who had come into his village to discuss the ways the Semai were using land in the Chikus Permanent Forest Reserve. The incident occurred at the Semai settlement in Sungai Manik, near the city of Teluk Intan, in Perak, Malaysia.

Mr. Apong said that the forestry officials had approached the Semai to discuss the vegetables that were being grown in the forest reserve, as well as the large oil palm plantation that had been developed there.

Oil palm is arguably the world’s most productive vegetable, widely used for the manufacture of biofuels. For comparison, corn (maize) supplies about 172 liters of oil per hectare of corn crop per year, while oil palm produces almost 6,000 liters of crude oil per hectare. Palm oil is also used for food, as a base for cosmetics, and as an engine lubricant. Nearly half of the cultivated land in Malaysia is now devoted to oil palm plantations. The conversion of natural forest ecosystems into these plantations has become a major issue for environmentalists who are concerned about the loss of biodiversity in Southeast Asia.

But Mr. Apong focused on the manner of the forestry officers as well as the substance of their complaints. The officers were carrying firearms and handcuffs, he said. He told reporters, “they did not allow us to farm the area approved for planting herbs. We are forced to cultivate the area as there is no more farming area and [we] still need the forest to make a living.”

He went on to complain that the officers had prohibited the Orang Asli people from farming in the lowland reserve, but that they had permitted others to farm and grow ducks there. Apong said the officers were practicing favoritism.

A local politician, Datuk Zainol Padzi Paharuddin, informed of the incident last week, expressed surprise at the display of force by the forestry officers. He said “it was unnecessary.” He added that the government had in fact allowed the Semai to farm in part of the forest reserve.

Despite the approval at the state level, the Forestry Department apparently had decided to intervene, since that agency was encouraging scientific plant research in the Chikus Permanent Forest Reserve. The results of a study of forest soils in the reserve were just published this year. An inspection of the lowland dipterocarp forest by reporters showed that it had mostly been taken over by commercial interests.

The Forestry Department quickly responded on Thursday to the criticisms that had appeared in the news earlier that day. Datuk Nik Mohd Shah, Director of the Perak Forestry Department, said that a full report had been prepared about the illegal uses of the forest reserve, which have been going on for 20 years.

He said the report would be sent to the Perak Natural Resources and Environment Ministry and the Forestry Department of Malaysia. “We have a complete record of illegal settlers in the area and will submit it to the state government to make policies and find ways to resolve it,” he said.

He told the press that the large size of the Chikus reserve, about 2,500 hectares, and the fact that it is the only lowland forest preserve in the state, made it impossible to fence or regulate it from trespass and occupation. He advised local people to not attempt to move into the forest reserve, as he will “take stern action to curb this activity,” he said.

Regarding the statements to the press by the Semai, he said that they were allowed to depend on the forest for their living, but they were not permitted to cultivate the land or to cut down trees. He added that his officers were supplied with firearms for their own safety, and not to threaten or intimidate the Orang Asli people.

A follow up news report on Saturday indicated that the state is concerned about the oil palm plantations and plantings of cash crops such as guava, lime, and papaya. An officer had been dispatched to investigate. State officials believe that the massive oil palm plantations in the forest are the work of syndicates.

Kentucky and Ohio officials are putting Amish people in jail, in the one state because they refuse to compromise their religious principles, and in the other because a few of them have been terrorizing people. Both issues have been in the news this past week.

In late September, a judge in Graves County, Kentucky, sentenced some men to serve a few nights in the county jail for refusing to mount slow moving vehicle triangles on their buggies. The triangles are too ostentatious for the conservative Schwartzentruber branch of the Old Order Amish. They refused to pay the fines, so the judge ordered them to go to jail for a few nights.

Another judge, this time in Grayson County, Kentucky, has started sentencing Amish men for the same crime. Daniel Yoder was convicted, while two other men, Ben Yoder and Joe Hostetler, have been charged. Daniel Yoder received a fine of $20, plus he has been ordered to pay $143 in court costs. The press did not report if he intends to pay, or if he will prefer to spend some time in the county jail.

The district attorney for Grayson County, Clay Ratley, issued a statement that sounds much like that from other attorneys defending their legal actions against the Amish: “I respect their religion, I respect their beliefs, but at the same time, we have to follow the law.” In Graves County, meanwhile, about 20 similar cases are now pending.

The beard cutting spree in the huge Amish settlement of Central Ohio, which made international news in mid October, has continued to stir a lot of passions—enough to prompt the FBI to join the investigation.

According to a special agent for the FBI, Vicki Anderson, the bureau is concerned that beard-cutting may violate the civil rights of the victims, which “we take as a very serious matter.” She said that a special meeting had included a number of local law enforcement officers. It had led to the decision to enter the case.

Neil Hassinger, Sheriff for Medina County, Ohio, is happy that the FBI has joined the investigation of the violent, beard cutting incidents. “It is a hate crime because they are picking on people who don’t want to do things religiously exactly as they’re doing it,” Hassinger said.

Hassinger went on to tell the press that he has good relations with the Amish bishop in his county, and he deplores the way criminals, and sometimes just pranksters, hassle and at times attack them. They know the Amish are easy targets who will not fight back or resist attacks, he said.

But the sheriff has his own ways of combating violence against the Amish. He disguises his deputies as Amish and sends them out in buggies to see what might happen. He even had two female deputies dress as Amish women and set off in a buggy to see if he could crack a series of criminal robberies against them.

“They’d rob them. They were stopping their buggies and taking their money from them because they know the Amish use cash,” the sheriff said. “But our deputies dressed as Amish in the buggy surprised them.”

Agent Anderson from the FBI did know how much her agency would become involved in the beard cutting crime spree. She said the FBI was taking a careful look to see if any federal laws had been violated.

The Great Falls Tribune reported last Thursday that the National Geographic Channel has started preparing a documentary film about a central Montana Hutterite colony, a project that may have been inspired by a Montana artist nearly four years ago.

Map of Central Montana Hutterite colonies In January 2008, artist Cheryl Bannes, from Lewistown, Montana, hatched the idea of distributing 50 disposable cameras to Hutterite children in the surrounding colonies. With the permission of colony elders, the aim of the project was to inspire the children to take pictures of the ordinary things of life. The kids recorded people picking berries, riding horses, swimming, and so on. The idea was to inspire the children to record events in their colonies through their own eyes.

The resulting photos—1,200 were submitted—were juried by Ms. Bannes and a committee of parents and a teacher. The best 36 shots were then displayed in an exhibit that was shown in various Montana museums.

All six colonies involved in the project are from the Dariusleut group, and five of the six are located in the greater Lewistown area. The five are the Ayers Colony near Grass Range; the Deerfield Colony near Denton; the Fords Creek Colony, near Grass Range; the King Colony near Lewistown; and the Spring Creek Colony near Lewistown. The sixth, the Loring Colony, is near the Canadian border, 140 miles northeast of Lewistown.

The news story last week did not identify which colony was being filmed by National Geographic, except that it is Dariusleut, is located in the Lewistown area, and it has 59 members. Evidently, the National Geographic crew started filming life at the colony several weeks ago.

Jeff Collins, director of production at the National Geographic Channel, indicated that the Hutterites will tell their own stories, without outside narration. The footage will be used in a ten-part series, to be aired sometime in 2012, and tentatively titled “One Big Family: The Hutterites.”

Since the colony members themselves will do all the talking, there is not likely to be a lot of unwanted, inaccurate dramatization, such as the films that have plagued the Amish. The recent Lifetime Movie Channel film “Amish Grace” seriously distorted Amish values, according to many critics. The forthcoming Hutterite series will focus on the day to day lives of the people. Collins says the filming focuses on just the one individual colony, and does not attempt to generalize about the Hutterites as a whole.

“[The colony] is taking somewhat of a risk by doing it this way, and there may be some Hutterites who don’t agree with the way they tell their story,” he indicated. “[But] I think the show is going to be amazing—no one has ever had this kind of access before.” He said that some viewers may be surprised to learn how the colony members deal with problems.

He added that the colony does, of course, have problems and issues that they have to handle, like any other group of people. He said that they deal with their problems whenever they arise, rather than letting them fester, as other groups may do.

One of the issues the colony faces is how much modern technology to accept and how to incorporate it into their lives. One person told Mr. Collins, “our grandparents used to plow these fields with horses and plows and now we do it with modern tractors that have air conditioning and a GPS satellite system, so yes, we have evolved, and in a way that’s what is necessary for us to survive.”

It is not clear whether the cameras in the hands of the school children nearly four years ago inspired this latest attempt to make information about the Hutterites available to a wider public. Despite very different approaches, the two projects have somewhat similar goals.

Last Friday, AllAfrica.com, an important source of news about Africa, carried a story about the cultural diversity of the Rukwa Region of Tanzania, particularly the Fipa people—or Wafipa, as they are also called.

An article by Willis (1989a) indicated that finger millet (Eleusine coracana) was the primary staple crop of the Fipa, but according to the current news article, their foods now also include rice, beans, round potatoes, wheat, sorghum, sugarcane, groundnuts, sweet potatoes, cassava, and the meats from a variety of domestic animals. This suggests that perhaps the extent and variety of vegetable foods has increased in the intervening decades, though Willis was not trying to provide a comprehensive listing.

Sosthenes Mwita, the reporter, added that the Fipa in some areas consider rats and mice to be a delicacy. They cook a stiff porridge called ugali from their finger millet, adding beans and bits of mouse or rat meat to give it zest.

The reporter interviewed a 71-year old farmer, James Tuseko. He told him that most of the Fipa households raise an average of 12 head of cattle. However, the man added, the people do not drink the milk. It is fed to housecats and dogs. He said that bumper crops of rice and maize are normal occurrences in their communities, an assertion that was corroborated by a different report a few months ago, also in AllAfrica.com, about the agricultural bounty of the Rukwa Region.

The journalist suggested that the diversity of cultures and languages in the region could argue for investments in cultural tourism. In any case, he points out, the name for the administrative centre of the region, Sumbawanga, comes from the name of a village located at the same spot before 1914, “Sumbu Wanga,” which translates to mean “discard your amulets” or “do not come here with fetishes of witchcraft,” in the Wafipa language. Mwita admits that he finds this aspect of the Fipa culture to be “intriguing.”

A history booklet that he has consulted says that the Fipa 100 years ago feared strangers, who might be skilled witchdoctors who would commit awful atrocities. The name of the village was thus an attempt to warn strangers against bringing the tools of their witchcraft into their midst. They might, after all, run into the local witchdoctors who could combat them.

Anthropologist Roy Willis gives a somewhat different impression of Fipa history. According to his 1989 article, the Fipa of the late 19th century were described by European visitors as friendly, talkative with strangers, outgoing, good-hearted, self-possessed, placid, energetic, and industrious.

In a 1985 article, he maintained that Fipa ideology does not really focus on opposite categories or on definite conceptual boundaries, us versus strangers. It emphasizes, instead, complementary, unitary processes. Their major legend is about a mythic king of Ufipa who lost his kingship while out hunting to three women, all of whom were strangers. They represent the Earth. The king subsequently reached an agreement with the women that he could retain his office and title, but they would retain some rule over most of the territory.

This myth symbolizes and explains many of their attitudes, Willis (1985) argues. It suggests that their society lacks categorical distinctions. This lack of categories results in people being courteous to strangers. A lack of categorical distinctions also results in the fact that men and women eat together, an unusual condition among African societies.

Furthermore, Willis argues, instead of focusing on division and dualism, the Fipa emphasize processes that promote unity. Rather than transcend duality momentarily, as other societies do through ritual, the Fipa villages regularly, and continually, strive for unity and harmony. None of this denies that a fear of witchcraft is also part of their culture.

Friday’s story includes a variety of cultural information about the Fipa. Despite the famed generosity of the people, it indicates that the men will turn quite hostile if you try to steal or vandalize any of their property, especially the produce from their farms. Also, they believe that any man who tries to steal the wife of another will be hit by a thunderbolt.

Mr. Tuseko, the farmer, cites an episode, apparently widely repeated, of how an offensive, corrupt policeman who had harassed villagers was struck down during a soccer match by a bolt of lightning while seated among a crowd of spectators. Others around him were slightly injured. “He was the only one who was singled out for death,” Mwita writes.

The journalist also writes about the Nsimba, a Fipa dance. Ms. Nakama Nachirima, a 64-year old former dancer, described the dance to him. The performers stand next to stools which are perched on upside down pots, which are balanced on their upside down lids. The performers twitch the stools with their legs in order to make the stool legs tap on the pots, which rattle on their lids. Each pot, agitated rhythmically through its stool by the performer, makes different, melodious sounds depending on its size.

The women dancers shake their shoulders, stomp their feet, and nod their heads in time with the rhythm of the twitching pots. As the dance heats up, men will also join in with the dancing. The continuing vitality of Fipa culture comes through convincingly in this news report.

Anyone interested in the welfare of the peaceful Ladakhis should realize that a fair political settlement of the divisions and conflicts in India’s state of Jammu and Kashmir will promote the continuing stability and health of Ladakh. The state, located in India’s north and bordered by Pakistan and China, has been riven with discord and violence for decades, much of it caused by complex, cross-cutting demands and factions that try to advance their own agendas, often to the disadvantage of other groups.

P. Chidambaram

A blue-ribbon panel of prominent Indian citizens, appointed last October to explore possible solutions to the Kashmir problems, submitted its report to Home Minister Palaniappan Chidambaram on Wednesday last week. Mr. Chidambaram, as well as the members of the panel, agreed to keep the details of the report confidential for a short time until he had had the chance to study it. This has not stopped the press from speculating about the contents of the report, based on confidential sources who may, or may not, really know the contents of it.

The big question that everyone is speculating about is how much, if any, autonomy has the report suggested for Kashmir, Jammu, and Ladakh, the three constituent parts of the state. Referred to as interlocutors, the three panelists, Dileep Padgaonkar, Radha Kumar, and M. M. Ansari apparently tried to suggest a balance between the self rule advocated by the partisans of Kashmiri independence and more moderate demands for autonomy.

Most of the news sources concur that the report suggests some sort of internal autonomy for the Muslim Kashmir portion of the state, and regional councils for Jammu, the Hindu portion, and for Ladakh, the partially Buddhist and partially Muslim section. The national government is not committed to implementing the report, but the fact that the Home Minister himself appointed the three interlocutors will give their findings some standing.

One news source, claiming to have “accessed” the report, said that it calls for the Armed Forces Special Powers Act to be reviewed, and for a gradual withdrawal of the armed forces from parts of the Valley of Kashmir. The Valley is where the majority of people in the state live, and it has been the location of a lot of separatist violence. Supposedly, the report steers clear of supporting complete autonomy, though it apparently does suggest some sort of compromise.

The People’s Democratic Party, a Muslim group that openly advocates a role for Pakistan in administering at least a portion of the state, took a fairly moderate stance about it. “We look forward to the report, but apparently, it falls short of the expectations,” said Naeem Akthar, leader of the PDP. He promised that his party would examine it carefully and then respond.

Another news story indicated that the report focused on enhancing job opportunities and economic development in all three parts of the state. This source learned that the report was suggesting a 51 percent formula of development funds for Kashmir and Ladakh, and 49 percent for Jammu. This allocation formula would supposedly address resentments in both the Kashmir and the Jammu regions about the locations of government projects.

The panel, apparently, has recommended reducing the visibility of the armed forces in urban areas. This would be accomplished by removing some of the cities from the list of special disturbed areas that are designated in the Indian law. Padgaonkar, the chair of the panel, indicated that he and his colleagues had taken testimony from 600 different delegations, in 22 districts of the state, plus three round-table conferences and three mass meetings. He felt that the report represented “the most accurate, comprehensive and broadest possible spectrum of opinion from Jammu and Kashmir.”

Padgaonkar said that the panel had completed its work within the time frame, one year, established by the Home Minister. He added, “The mandate was to try and trace contours of a political settlement. This is what we have proposed. We have traced [the] contours. We have made [a] certain number of recommendations which aim at [a] permanent settlement of [the] issue of Jammu and Kashmir.”

He added that the panel hoped their work will help the nation at large to arrive at a consensus regarding the issues of equity, autonomy and development in the state. Padgaonkar said that the key to the resolution of the continuing crisis regarding Jammu and Kashmir was for everyone to concentrate on the welfare of the people themselves.

He was asked about the refusal of the separatists to cooperate with the panel, or even to meet with them. He replied that their stated positions are reflected in the wording of the report. “The fact of the matter is, we tried and tried again and they refused. I believe they have missed the bus,” he concluded. As news stories indicated when the panel was appointed, the separatists believe that theirs is the only possible solution to the Kashmir issue, and they made it clear at the time that they didn’t intend to budge from their intransigence.

The Inuit are gradually losing their spoken languages, Inuktitut and Innuinaqtun, according to a report issued last week, and the government of Nunavut needs to do more to encourage their usage. Cathy Towtongie and Jack Anawak, respectively president and vice-president of the NGO Nunavut Tunngavik, Inc ( NTI), released the group’s annual report for 2009/10 at a press conference in Iqaluit last Wednesday.

NTI Annual Report The report, titled Our Primary Concern: Inuit Language in Nunavut, argues that encouraging Inuit parents to use their native languages in their homes will make the difference in whether or not they will continue to be used in the territory. Inuktitut is used throughout most of the territory, except for the extreme western end, where Innuinaqtun is used in the two communities of Cambridge Bay and Kugluktuk.

But English has become the predominant language of most Inuit youths, rather than the languages spoken by their elders. The report outlines three goals aimed at keeping the traditional languages strong: the status of the native languages should be promoted among young people; the uses of those languages should be advocated in homes; and the schools should try to graduate fully bilingual students.

The executive summary of the report summarizes the issue. “Presenting the Inuit language in ways that appeal to young people is essential for use and transmission in informal settings. Unless the language is seen as socially affirming—colloquially speaking, cool—English will continue to overshadow Inuktitut and Inuinnaqtun as the single language of status, power and opportunity.”

The government of Nunavut and Inuit organizations need to get involved, to make sure that young people and their parents will encourage the use of the native languages, and not just the language of power, English.

Towtongie said that her organization had looked into the issue of whether or not outsiders who reside in Nunavut long-term bother to learn an Inuit language. It found that they generally did not have a commitment to it. They just looked forward to their retirements. The report urges that non-Inuit residents should be offered training in Inuktitut as soon as they arrive, during the period when they are normally still interested in learning it.

Anawak said at the news conference that NTI expects the government to do more to encourage the uses of the Inuit languages—and not just among the young people. Outsiders, government officials, everyone should learn it. “It’s unacceptable today for our elders not to be able to speak their language, when they have a message or a demand for the government, if the person answering at the other end of the phone does not have the capability to speak Inuktitut.”

Perhaps the most alarming aspect of the report was the finding that the usage of the Inuit languages is declining. From 2001 to 2006, their status as the first spoken languages in Inuit homes had declined from 57 percent to 54 percent.

Towtongie commented at the press conference that the federal government spends $4,460 dollars per Canadian French speaking person for the promotion of spoken French in Canada, and $53.71 per Inuit language speaker for the promotion of the spoken Inuit languages. The report concludes that if that imbalance is addressed, if promoting the Inuit languages is made a higher priority, and if that goal is funded adequately, “it will be possible to stabilize the Inuit language in Nunavut and eventually see its resurgence in the coming years.”

The full text of the report is available on the NTI website.

Fifty years ago, on October 8th, 1961, two months after the rumbling and shaking had started, a new volcanic cone shattered the earth only two hundred yards east of the settlement on Tristan da Cunha. This past week, the British media have been commemorating the eruption, and the evacuation of the islanders that had become necessary.

Perhaps the best narrative of the events is in Peter A. Munch’s book Crisis in Utopia, which surveys the history, values, and social structures of the islanders, plus, of course, the traumas the people endured when they were relocated to England until late 1963.

The minor tremors that started on August 6th, 1961, became much worse on Sunday, October 8th. A heavy shock broke loose a part of the cliff face directly behind the village, though without causing any damage. But on the eastern side of the settlement, which is on the north coast of the volcanic island, buildings started to heave. The people decided to spend the night, for their own safety, with others in the western end of the community.

The next afternoon, cracks developed in the earth about 200 yards to the east of the settlement. A large fissure opened and a sheep fell in, but while it bleated, the crack rose and the sheep jumped out. It resumed its normal life—eating grass—but the crack continued to rise. What had been a fissure in the earth became a mound, then a small hill, rising at the rate of about 5 feet per hour. By dusk it was 30 feet high.

It was too late to leave the island in the dark, but everyone realized that evacuation was essential. So to get safely through the night, the 264 islanders, carrying only essentials, plus additional expatriates living on the island, had to walk to another fairly level spot a couple miles away, the Potato Patches, a gardening area. There was no shelter at the Patches, so almost all the people spent the night in the open, in a cold drizzle.

The following day, Tuesday October 10th, the islanders walked back to the settlement and saw the new lava cone, now rearing high above and spitting stones and lava. Fortunately, a couple fishing vessels were anchored off shore. Though much too small to shelter the entire population overnight, they were prepared to take the people to temporary safety, on nearby Nightingale Island. There, the islanders had a number of fishing huts, which could safely shelter the people for several more days if necessary. The longboats of the islanders ferried the people out to the Tristania and the Frances Repetto, which took them to Nightingale.

The Islanders had wanted to have six men remain on Nightingale, with a longboat and rifles, so they could return to Tristan and shoot the dogs. There had not been time to round up the animals, and the people were afraid that, after a while, the dogs would become hungry and turn on the livestock for food. They felt the cattle, at least, might be able to survive if left to fend for themselves, perhaps for even a fairly long human absence.

But the following morning, the 11th, all of the Tristan Islanders were ordered to board the Tjisadane, a Dutch liner that had just arrived. It was headed for Tristan anyway, planning to pick up three people and take them on to Cape Town. The men were told to hand over their rifles. The Islanders were not told that the Colonial Office in London had decided during the night that the evacuation from Tristan would be permanent. The bureaucrats had apparently decided that allowing people to live on the remote island was more trouble than it was worth.

The articles on the BBC website on October 4th and on October 5th discuss the fate of the islanders when they reached England weeks later, after a brief stopover in Cape Town. They lived at first in huts on the abandoned Pendell Army Camp, in Merstham, Surrey, until late January, 1962. They were then moved to much nicer permanent homes in Calshot, in Hampshire, near Southhampton. They were welcomed into the community and many were able to get jobs. They began to learn how to get along in a modern, industrial economy.

But they also began contracting chest infections and bronchitis from the unaccustomed English weather. With homesickness increasing, they wondered when they would be able to return to their homes.

The news reports last week don’t discuss the government’s strategy in the early 1960s of trying to force the islanders to stay in England. Nor do they mention the growing suspicion by the Islanders themselves that what they wanted—to return to Tristan—was not what the government wanted for them.

The people, used to accepting directive from others with superior status, were not immediately able to take matters into their own hands and present a united front to the government. Making demands was never part of their style. But, as Munch recounts the story, they slowly, haltingly, made plans to send back to Tristan a bunch of men to see what conditions were like. The first group of 12 men returned in September 1962.

They reported that the volcanic activity had died down, that the settlement was basically unhurt, and they started the rebuilding process. The people decided to move back, even if they had to make the arrangements themselves. Prompted, and perhaps shamed, by the British press, the government ultimately backed down and in 1963 most of the remaining islanders returned to Tristan. A group of 51 people left England on March 17th, and the remainder, 198 people, boarded a liner on October 24th, 1963. A few had come to enjoy the modern life of conveniences and chose to remain in England.

Much as they were determined to return to their own homes, the islanders clearly appreciated the hospitality of the people of Calshot. They named the small harbor that British engineers subsequently built for them the Calshot Harbor, in appreciation for the people in Hampshire who had hosted them.

Ernie Repetto, now 85, remembered to the BBC that it had seemed quite nice in Calshot. “I was able to grow potatoes. I remember catching the bus to Southampton to see the ships in the docks. They were nice people there.” Mrs. Repetto had a slightly different take on the experience, however. “In England if you ain’t got money, you can’t live. In Tristan you can kill a sheep, catch a fish or grow potatoes and still have a happy life.”

The Tristan da Cunha Association, in cooperation with the government of the island, has mounted a special page on its website in commemoration of the anniversary. It contains an interesting account by Peter Wheeler, written in October this year, about the evacuation he had to supervise 50 years ago as the administrator of the island. The webpage also announces that the islanders are compiling a commemorative book about the events of 50 years ago, to be published on the anniversary of the return to Tristan in 2013.

The Amish in Carroll, Holmes, Jefferson and Trumbull counties, Ohio, have become increasingly upset in recent weeks because of aggressive, physical attacks by a break-away group who have religious differences with them. The dissident attackers have been cutting off the hair and beards of the men, and in some cases the long hair of the women. These are serious, degrading insults in the Amish community.

By Thursday last week, a number of news accounts had blamed a small, dissident community of Amish living in a compound near Bergholz, in Jefferson County, where the people operate a leather shop and do carpentry work. Sheriff Fred Abdalla of Jefferson County said that the families that were suspected of perpetrating the assaults committed the crimes for religious reasons. But he was frustrated because the Amish themselves were reluctant to file formal complaints.

Donald Kraybill, the famed Amish expert at Elizabethtown College in Pennsylvania, contacted by the Associated Press, indicated that Amish men typically have long beards and Amish women do not cut their hair. These beliefs are based on biblical teachings. He added that violence by the Amish against one another “is extremely rare.”

The aggressors have typically entered the homes of their victims and overpowered the men in order to cut off their beards. Local police have indicated that some of the men have suffered minor injuries as a result. Locals allege that the bishop of the group in Bergholz, Sam Mullet, is responsible for the violence.

Mullet was the bishop of an Amish group in Fredericktown, but when he ordered the shunning of two families, they appealed his decision. As a result, Amish bishops from across Ohio formed a committee, which disagreed with Mullet’s decision. He was dissatisfied with that, and moved to the Bergholz location in Jefferson County with his extended family and friends.

He allegedly requires his followers to bring back clippings of hair as proof that they have carried out the attacks. Sheriff Abdulla claimed that Mullet had threatened several times to have him killed. He believes that the bishop is dangerous, and he was quoted as comparing the man to Jim Jones, of Jonestown infamy.

Late Friday night, a story carried by WKYC, a TV station in Cleveland, included an interview with Bishop Mullet. He admitted that he knew about the raids, but denied he had anything to do with them. He said he might know some people that were involved, but that he had talked with them.

He told the reporter that whoever was responsible for each attack, the motivation was religious, not criminal. He said he couldn’t understand why the county sheriff “has his nose in our business.” It all started out over an excommunication of members who “weren’t listening or obeying our laws.” He continued, “I didn’t know the courts could stick their nose in religion, but that seems what they did here.”

He got defensive with the reporter. “I don’t work any different than any other bishop, but I’m pointed out and held way up here for being the meanest one of the bunch,” he said. He went on to say that his strict beliefs have prompted others to suspect him for years. “They’ve been after me since what, 2003, trying to put me in jail or in a mental institution,” he said. He added that he had a long-standing feud going with Sheriff Abdalla. He alleged that other Amish were paying the sheriff to be against him, and he acknowledged that he had heard the rumors that were being spread about himself and his family.

The reporter quoted him further: “They said I was being bad to my daughters, forcing them to have abortions and stuff. That we had children who weren’t healthy and I was killing them and burying them. But there’s no evidence of that. We’ve had social workers down here time after time, checking into our grandkids. Look at them. I was supposed to have been punching them. Do you see any black eyes? I was supposed to have done all these horrible things to my wife and my nephews.”

Friday evening, Holmes County Sheriff Timothy W. Zimmerly responded to a complaint from an Amish family that had just been attacked. A judge in Holmes County issued arrest warrants, and Mr. Zimmerly sent them to the Jefferson County sheriff. Abdalla’s deputies quickly arrested Lester S. Mullet, 26, of Hammondsville, and Johnny S. Mullet, 38, Levi F. Miller, 53, and Lester M. Miller, 37 of Bergholz.

The four men allegedly went by truck to the home of Myron and Arlene Miller, on Saltcreek Township Road, just north of Mount Hope, around 9:00 p.m. They told Mr. Miller they wanted to discuss church business with him and his father, and waited until he got dressed. They went together to the nearby grandfather’s house. After a few minutes of polite chit chat, one of the men stood up, announced that they were there on behalf of Sam Mullet, “in retaliation for the church shunning them.”

The four allegedly pushed and shoved both men, plus another who had come down the stairs. An additional 24 men were in a horse trailer behind the truck. The four aggressors used scissors and hair clippers to remove the beard on the elder man, and some of his hair.

As Mrs. Miller tells the story, “the guys came up and surrounded him and cut off a chunk of his beard. They were unable to get any more because he struggled so hard against them.” She added that the attackers told them, “this is to uncover sins, and it’s to straighten us out.” The men then shaved her head.

While the Amish traditionally work out their differences among themselves quite peacefully, and normally do not let the local plice become involved with their problems, the Millers were very upset. “This is not a religious fight,” she said. “We believe we’re in danger. They’re like hate crimes. They’re terrorizing people and communities.” Mrs. Miller alleged that Bishop Mullet was using sleep deprivation techniques to help brainwash his followers.

Bishop Mullet on Friday night denied that he was personally involved with the most recent attack. He maintained once again that since these were religious disputes, the police had no right to become involved. Over the weekend, one of the four accused men, Lester M. Miller, was released. He had been mistaken for one of his brothers, who was still at large.

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Peaceful Societies

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Birhor Society Still Imperiled

Semai Incensed by Firearms

Amish Buggies and Beards

National Geographic Project at a Hutterite Colony

Fipa Vitality

A Fair Settlement for Jammu and Kashmir?

Strengthening the Uses of Inuit Languages

Fiftieth Anniversary of the Evacuation of Tristan

Amish Attack Amish in Central Ohio

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