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Alaska Natives at the Time of the Invasions: A Cultural Profile Project Draft 3 Do not quote or copy without permission from Mike Gaffney or from Ray Barnhardt at the Alaska Native Knowledge Network, University of Alaska-Fairbanks. Mike Gaffney suggests that one read the Teacher's Manual Preview first to get a good idea about the purpose and design of this secondary school textbook. Mike Gaffney Chapter 13
Again, the past illuminates the present. We have said that worldview is the heart of our concept of culture and therefore deserves special consideration. Now it is time to give it that special consideration by exploring how Alaska Natives made sense of their spiritual, natural, and social worlds, and what they believed was the proper way to conduct themselves in these worlds. This exploration should tell us much about how their core values, traditions, and valued historical legacies shaped their cultural identity. But first recall that one purpose of the Cultural Profile Project is to show how the study of traditional times helps us better understand contemporary Alaska Native life and civic affairs. We have referred to the connection between the ancient past and present times when we discussed the historical research required when a tribe applies for federal recognition. And again when we discussed how Native aboriginal title served as the legal basis for Tlingit and Haida land claims and for ANCSA. And again when we noted that as partial fulfillment of the trust responsibility to tribes, the federal government insists on an Alaska law supporting a rural subsistence priority before allowing the state to assume management of fish and game on federal lands. And, finally, when we discussed the role of Iñupiaq traditional knowledge in the development of Arctic marine science. Yet it may surprise you to know that understanding traditional Alaska Native worldviews also can have practical application in modern times. To illustrate this connection, we go to Carlos Frank v. State of Alaska and the story it tells.1 In 1979, Carlos Frank, an Athabaskan Indian from Minto, was arrested for taking a moose out of season. He and other hunters took the moose for the purpose of providing ritually required moose meat at a funeral potlatch. Mr. Frank and his legal counsel argued that the funeral potlatch is a religious event dating from traditional times and the consumption of moose meat has always been an essential ritual of this spiritual activity. Therefore the “application of the game regulation to him, under the circumstances, amounted to an abridgement of his freedom of religion,” hence a violation of his constitutional rights under the 1st Amendment. Representing the State of Alaska the Attorney General countered Frank’s defense with two arguments. First, while the consumption of moose meat at a funeral potlatch is highly desirable, it is not an absolute necessity. Secondly, The State of Alaska has a “compelling state interest” in applying the rules of fish and game management equally to all Alaska residents. The Attorney General then expanded on the state’s argument by suggesting that the regulation of fish and game is closely monitored by the many Alaskans passionately involved in hunting and fishing activities. It is therefore predictable that any exception made for one class of people is sure to set off a firestorm of anger, protest, and possible “lawlessness.” This potentially explosive situation only heightens the state’s compelling interest to deny any exception to the rule, no matter the circumstance. The District Court and, on appeal, the Superior Court both agreed with the state’s arguments and held that Mr. Frank’s First Amendment rights were not violated by the game regulation. The case was then appealed to the Alaska Supreme Court. It is important to note that all three Alaska courts involved in the case sought guidance from the common law. Using two precedent-setting decisions by the United States Supreme Court on questions of religious freedom, the courts applied a three factor test.2 First, was the funeral potlatch an integral part of a “distinct belief system?” That is, did there exist an authentic religion? Secondly, was the conduct of the hunters clearly tied to fulfilling a fundamental tenet of that religion? And thirdly, was Carlos Frank a sincere believer in the religion? All three courts determined that the funeral potlatch and its spiritual context clearly satisfied the first two factors of the test. As for the third factor, they easily found Mr. Frank to be a sincere believer. Given our concern about the reliability of historical information, an interesting question for us becomes: What historical evidence convinced the courts that this spiritual element of the traditional Athabaskan worldview constituted a religion as commonly defined in modern times? Answer: the courts were convinced by the considerable testimony they heard from distinguished Athabaskan elders, including Chief Peter John of Minto, and from respected anthropologists. The courts also found that these oral testimonies were well supported by scholarly documentation on Interior Athabaskan cultures. In a word, the courts felt confident in accepting this historical and cultural evidence because it passed their tests for reliability. Now for the rest of the story. We know the lower courts held that “moose meat was not such an absolute necessity…as to override the compelling state interest of the State of Alaska in the management and control of its game for the benefit of all its people, Native and white.” Therefore Mr. Frank’s freedom to practice a religion was not violated. The Alaska Supreme Court, however, reversed the lower courts, ruling that indeed the moose hunting regulation did violate Mr. Frank’s First Amendment rights. The Court held that “absolute necessity” is too strict a standard when judging a freedom of religion case. The fact that moose meat consumption at a funeral potlatch was a deep and abiding spiritual tradition was cause enough to allow an exception to the game regulation. Moreover, the state’s interest in maintaining healthy moose populations is not compromised by such rare, religiously based exceptions. As for the state’s prediction of civil disobedience and possible lawlessness if an exception is allowed, the Court found no evidence supporting this assertion. The Court went so far as to say that such a suggestion insulted the people of Alaska. After years of appeal, Carlos Frank’s conviction was finally dismissed, and the lawlessness predicted by the state did no occur. We close this story by observing that in modern times there has been growing conflict between Native American religious practices and state policies and laws. The Carlos Frank case is certainly a good example. Another example is the eagle feathers case we discussed in an earlier chapter. Finding that many times Indian religious beliefs and practices were disregarded or misunderstood by state agencies and local non-Indian communities, Congress enacted the American Indian Religious Freedom Act (AIRFA) in 1978. Unfortunately the Act “only imposes certain procedural requirements on federal agencies…[such as directing] federal officials to familiarize themselves with Native American religious values to help prevent unwarranted and unintended interference with traditional practices.” For the most part, AIRFA has proven ineffective because it fails to clearly provide enforcement powers to federal agencies. It has been characterized as legislation without teeth.3 An Alaska Native worldview. Dr. Oscar Kawagley’s book, A Yupiaq Worldview, continues to assist our work on this important subject. In the book he describes what he sees as the Yup’ik worldview and how it conflicts with the Western, Anglo-American worldview. Importantly, he suggests that the fundamental elements of the Yup’ik worldview have much in common with all other Alaska Native worldviews. While there may be differences among the various Alaska Native worldviews, these differences melt away when compared to the Western worldview. Therefore we want to pay close attention because he is telling us what to look for in our own cultural profile research. In fact, Oscar actually gives us an instructional guide to the kinds of things we should look for. And one of the first things he emphasizes is “an intricate subsistence-based worldview.” What he means is that the elements of the traditional Native worldview flow from their subsistence way of life as opposed to an urban-industrial way of life or a rural agricultural way of life or any other way of life. He points out, for example, that a major element of the traditional Native worldview was proper behavior and attitude toward the natural world, particularly toward the body and spirit of animals. Since Native life was based on subsistence, hence totally dependent on fish and game, it should not surprise us that over time certain animals took on mythical qualities and spiritual meanings for the people directly dependent on them. In the following passage from his book you will find other important points emphasized in italics. You only have to make a list of these elements to initially know what to look for when researching the worldview of your Native group. These elements are myths (for example, Raven), rituals, ceremonies, role of elders, and core values such as responsibility, awareness, harmony, and reciprocity. Here is that passage:
Citing the works of several scholars, Oscar continues:
Oscar then gives us an Iñupiaq example of how significant elements of a worldview are passed on to new generations. Within the following short story by Mary Muktoyuk are many of the points emphasized in the above passages. He says that “out of this ecologically based emphasis on reciprocity, harmony, and balance have evolved some common values and principles that are embedded in the worldviews of Alaska Native people. From Mary’s Iñupiaq Rules for Living, here is the story:4
Oscar Kawagley’s tetrahedral metaphor. Oscar employs an interesting device for summarizing the Native worldview. He calls this device a tetrahedral metaphor, which comes from geometry and the term, polygon. A polygon is a geometrical figure with three or more sides connected in such a way that no two lines cross. The simplest polygon is the triangle. A tetrahedron is a polygon with four line segments or “faces.” The Egyptian and Mayan pyramids are good examples of a polygon structure. Below is his tetrahedral structure as metaphor and his own words on how it helps us understand Native worldviews: Figure 15
Ceremonies. We can get a good idea of a people’s worldview by examining their rituals and ceremonies. A “ceremonial cycle” can provide a visible cultural window through which to glimpse less visible core cultural values of the group. Take what might be called the yearly ceremonial cycle of Americans. An African anthropologist from the Nation of Botswana in Southern Africa, for example, can get some idea of American values and traditions by asking about the meaning of our holidays and how they are actually celebrated. Among others, there is Presidents Day, Columbus Day, Martin Luther King Day, Memorial Day, Labor Day, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. For an Alaska Native example, we go to the work of the anthropologist, Ann Fienup-Riordan. She has described five major feasts and festivals making up the traditional winter ceremonial cycle of the Central Yup’ik. There is the Bladder Festival, the Feast of the Dead, the Gift Festival, the Messenger Feast, and the Masquerade Festival. As with American holidays, the question becomes: What aspects of Yup’ik culture is being celebrated by these holiday feasts? So be sure to look for similar ceremonial activities of your selected group.5 Shamanism – Alaska and Siberia. A cultural profile of a Native group’s traditional worldview is not complete without a description of their spiritual leadership. Here we are talking about what usually is called shamanism, although there are Gwich’in Athabaskans who prefer the designation, medicine man or medicine woman. The term shaman apparently comes from the language of a Siberian Native group, the Evenk, and means “ones who knows.” Rather than start with an example of traditional shaman duties and practices from Native Alaska, let’s look at a brief description of shamanism as generally practiced among the twenty-two indigenous Native peoples of Siberia. The reason for doing this is twofold. First, it still gives your study of shamanism importan guidance. But secondly, we broaden our knowledge and sharpen our ideas about life when we seek comparative referents from other places. Recall our use of an Irish comparative referent in our discussion of the cultural element of speech community. When thinking about law and order, we used the Sioux and the Crow Dog case as comparative referents. Indeed, you may find that shamanism in Native Alaska has interesting similarities to its practice in Native Siberia. In her book, The Shaman’s Coat: A Native History of Siberia, Anna Reid offers this description:
Figure 16 Anna Reid certainly gives us a colorful description of the Native Siberian worldview and of one shaman ceremony called the “soul-journey.” Yet they are only partial descriptions. As she found in Siberia and as you will find in Alaska, shamanism was a multi-functional institution. We know that the main function of the shaman was to act as spiritual go-between or mediator for his or her group in their relations with the spirit world. In many cases, however, Alaska Native shamans had other serious duties. It is not overstating the case to say that shamans were multifunctional institutions unto themselves. In addition to their spiritual duties, they were often the chief practitioners of medicine. They also could be leaders in war as we learned from Miranda Wright’s work on the Koyukon worldview and the Nulato battle of 1851. We turn again to Dr. Rosita Worl who has researched traditional Tlingit shamanism. She reports that Shamans always accompanied their clan and war leaders into battle, acting as their intelligence officers. No Tlingit clan would dare be without the everyday services of a shaman. In her paper, Dr. Worl included a photo of a Tlingit shaman. We include it here8 Figure 17 There is oral history indicating that some shamans did not hesitate to use their powers — and people’s fear of their powers — to advance their own personal interests. Northwest Iñupiaq oral history, for example, includes stories of the Iñupiaq prophet, Maniilaq, who became a heroic figure in the 1800s. Along with his well known prophecies, Iñupiaq oral tradition says he successfully confronted a regional network of shamans who were not above terrorizing local populations to gain personal wealth and power.9 Unquestionably the everyday life of all traditional Native societies was strongly influenced by shamans. Powerful shamans were viewed as absolutely essential for maintaining the health, security and welfare of the group. So we must ask, who became shamans? Were they individuals who as youngsters displayed special talents and powers? And what kinds of talents and powers did people look for when identifying a future shaman? Could a shaman be male or female? Was heredity a determining factor? That is, were shamans expected to descend from a family line of shamans much in the same fashion European Kings and Queens are expected to come from well established royal lineage? Were those identified as potential shamans expected to undergo a special kind of education and training? Did they, for example, serve a period of apprenticeship under the watchful eye of a shaman acting as their teacher? Comparing Alaska Native and Western worldviews. To further explore Oscar’s elements of the Native worldview, lets compare it to the Western worldview by asking a set of questions. If you were to select a polygon metaphor like Oscar’s to illustrate the Western worldview, what would it look like? Perhaps a better question is, would a polygon metaphor work at all? Can it be argued, for example, that the “Natural Realm” (the natural environment) will not fit into any diagram attempting to represent the Western worldview because it does not hold the same spiritual meaning as found in subsistence-based Native societies? The point has been made several times that the quality of life in traditional Native subsistence-based societies was almost totally dependent on a people’s relationship to wildlife and their habitat. Therefore we should not be surprised that the natural realm takes on sacred meanings for Native people who infused it with ceremony and ritual. Why is the Raven the central figure in many traditional Native beliefs about creation? Why do Iñupiaq whaling families traditionally give a drink of fresh water to the head of a just butchered whale and push the head back into the sea? Shortly after killing a black bear, why do Koyukon Athabaskan men hold what has been described as a potlatch-like feast honoring the bear? Why are all Tlingit clans totemic, with their clan crests showing a specific animal as emblematic of the clan’s mythical origins?10
The traditional Native view of the natural realm as sacred is quite different from the historical Western worldview where the basic theme is a the belief that the natural environment exists to be exploited and changed for human material advantage. Most often Western man has viewed the natural environment as an obstacle to overcome, not as sacred realm to be carefully used and maintained. He has even found in the Bible divine inspiration for constant exploitation of what he considers to be “wilderness.” Many times this belief also provided justification for removing Native tribes from their lands in order to advance the Western concepts of progress and Christian civilization. All of this was best expressed in the ideology of manifest destiny. By the 1840s Americans had come to believe it was manifestly evident — even justified in divine scripture— that the United States was destined to expand across the continent to the Pacific, bringing its grand experiment in liberty, democracy, and self-government to the “uncivilized” Native tribes. Americans – particularly new immigrants to America – were looking for fertile lands west of the Mississippi to settle and cultivate. And American merchants and manufacturers were searching for new raw materials and markets. One of the best known Native American writers is N. Scott Momaday, a Kiowa Indian from Oklahoma. He makes this point:
Declarations of a divine inspiration to “tame the wilderness” occurred repeatedly during the European colonization of the Americas. Another way of describing the ideology of progress is what some scholars call the “doctrine of higher uses.” This concept refers to the European Christian idea that God intended man to cultivate and commercially develop all lands, including Native lands. Rather than be left to the primitive uses of subsistence hunting and gathering, the land and its resources must be put to the “higher uses” of farming, ranching, industry, and commerce. Anything less may be considered sinful idleness.13 [Ideology = a system of beliefs and ideas providing a philosophical basis for political, social, or economic action . Non-violent civil disobedience, for example, was the ideology of Dr. Martin Luther King’s civil rights movement.] Indeed, versions of the doctrine of higher uses have carried over to modern times. During the Alaska Native land claims struggle of the 1960s, for example, there is this statement by an Alaska mining executive:
Historical legacy: reality and myth. Dr. Kawagley suggests that “myths” and “legends” are a large part of any people’s worldview. Just as myths and legends are embedded in the collective memory of every human group, so also is historical legacy. It is that part of the group’s past – most often a heroic past – which is told and retold down through the ages to the point where it can easily become the stuff of mythology and legend. (Remember that we earlier defined mythology as those stories telling of a culture’s origins and history, including heroic feats of ancestors and ancient relations with gods and other supernatural beings.) For every human group, whether traditional or modern, the retelling of the historical legacy always has purposes beyond mere presentation of facts. There are always cultural values to be considered and lessons to be learned. Let’s momentarily shift back to Ireland. Reflecting on the popular retelling of his culture’s history, the Irish writer, Sean O'Faolain, reminds us that: “History is … an ever-developing process, and all its events not so much events as thoughts hammered into mortal heads.”
O'Faolain’s observation that over time the triumph and tragedy of significant historical events and of heroic figures are retold in ways that remind adults and convey to youngsters the essential aspects of its core values and cultural identity. It is “hammered into mortal heads” by story telling, the construction of monuments, and through ritual and ceremony. In recent times, for example, there has been much public storytelling about the American experience in World War II. It is being hammered into our mortal heads. World War II – the great American historical legacy. Starting sometime in the late 1990s, World War II storytelling seemed to surge with the publication of, among others, the bestselling books by the American historian, Stephen Ambrose. Especially popular were his D-Day, June 6, 1944 and Band of Brothers. The D-Day book inspired the box office hit and academy award winning movie, Saving Private Ryan. The Band of Brothers book led to one of the most widely-watched television events in recent times — the ten part mini-series of the same title on HBO. And published in 1998 was one of the all time bestselling books, The Greatest Generation, by former NBC News anchor, Tom Brokaw. To tell the book’s story, Brokaw uses the living oral history method. He retells fifty personal stories as told to him by Americans from different walks of life who lived, worked, and fought during World War II. He suggests that they should be considered the greatest generation because they changed the course of American history with their courage, perseverance, and sacrifice during the war, as well as with their exceptional leadership in countless ways after the war. Most recently in 2007 there is the seven part PBS documentary by Ken Burns entitled “The War” which, of course, is WWII. As for monuments, all of this well crafted and immensely popular storytelling led to the remarkably swift construction of the World War II Memorial in the heart of the Nation’s capitol. It was opened to the public in April, 2004, only six years after Saving Private Ryan hit the movie houses and the Greatest Generation hit the bookstores. The Memorial was funded almost entirely by private contributions totaling $195 million in cash and pledges, a fact that certainly attests to the emotional impact the retelling of this historical legacy has had on the American imagination. Not surprisingly, the World War II Memorial is flanked by two other significant America historical shrines, the Washington Monument to the east and the Lincoln Memorial to the west. The very manner in which visitors conduct themselves at America’s war memorials in Washington D. C. tells us we are on hallowed national ground. It makes no difference if it’s the Korean War Veterans Memorial, the Vietnam Veterans War Memorial, or the World War II Memorial. People move slowly and quietly and speak in hushed tones as if they were in church. If America has a central spiritual place — a great outdoor national cathedral dedicated to what is found sacred and glorious in the American spirit —it is these war memorials combined with the nearby Presidential memorials, all of which are within walking distance of each other. Along with the telling and retelling of stories and the construction of monuments, there is constant ritual and ceremony to remind us — to hammer into our mortal heads — of how the historical legacy represented by war and presidential memorials reflects the best of American values and traditions. At major sporting events there is the singing of the national anthem or an equivalent such as “America the beautiful.” There is the presence of military honor guards and the unfurling of the American flag. There is the pledge of allegiance recited by children and teachers at the start of the day in many of the nation’s schools. It should not surprise us that both Republicans and Democrats at their national conventions spend less time on specific issues affecting people’s everyday lives and more time on how they are better than the other party at representing the best of the America historical legacy. The overriding convention message is that our political party’s version of American history and what made this country great is better than the other party’s version. Therefore our party is certainly best at advancing the ideals of freedom and democracy and securing America’s proper place in the world. Why World War II? Why does the historical legacy of World War II occupy such a venerated place in the American worldview? It is because for centuries to come it will provide the perfect opportunity to reinforce for adults and convey to the young our most cherished national self images. It was the right war fought at the right time in the right place. Unlike other American wars, the morality of it — the righteousness of its cause — was clear. A militaristic Japanese imperial government with its “sneak attack” at Pearl Harbor and the monstrous purposes and actions of Nazi Germany make them the perfect enemy. You cannot say enough bad things about them and, therefore, think enough good things about us. It is, moreover, the retelling of a horrible history without horrible consequences, at least from the American perspective. World War II itself was surely brutal on every front, with the Americans sustaining considerable loss of life and limb. But when looking back, it is the triumph over such brutal conditions which makes for an even more uplifting historical legacy to be played over and over again down through the ages. World War II has indeed become a treasured, almost sacred myth which blends fact with fiction to deepen its emotional appeal and highlight cultural lessons to be learned. Because we are all familiar with it, World War II is chosen here as an example of a historical legacy giving rise to a mythology which, in turn, becomes part of a culture’s worldview. That is, World War II has transcendent cultural meaning. By “transcendent” we mean the purpose for telling the history goes well beyond facts. Like the film Saving Private Ryan, it is not always claimed that every part of the story is true. Instead, it is told and retold because of what it says about American traditions, values, and cultural identity. It is a historical fact that there was no Private Ryan to be saved. But that’s not what is important about the film. What is important are its searing images of extreme sacrifice and courage for what are considered all the right reasons. The historical event’s people and actions become larger than life and rise to the level of mythology, usually to the level of heroic mythology. When World War II is bundled together with other historical legacies such as the “founding fathers” and their struggle for a constitution government, we glimpse the dominant American worldview and cultural identity. So when working on your cultural profile assignment, always keep in mind this fundamental idea:
So look for historical legacies in your research. Ideal culture vs. social reality. Another important reason for giving worldview special consideration is because it highlights the idea that all human societies operate on two levels. There is the level of ideal culture where oral and written traditions, including historical legacies, reflect what the group says are its most precious values. But there is also the level of social reality where many times the everyday actions of people and institutions contradict the very values proclaimed as precious by their ideal culture. We know that many of the pronouncements on human equality and liberty in the American Declaration of Independence and the Constitution’s Bill of Rights have been violated by real American history. One hundred and eighty years of slavery and over eighty years of segregationist Jim Crow laws in the South are obvious examples of such contradictions. So, too, is the tarnished history of federal Indian policies and their often devastating consequences for Native Americans.
In all cultures there always exists some gap or contradiction between the ideal and the real simply because we are all imperfect humans who operate imperfect human institutions. Fortunately this social fact has not kept courageous people from challenging injustices by asking questions such as: Do we have the means and the determination to close the gap? Is the gap between our ideals and how we actually conduct our real life closing or is it getting wider? In a sense, the ideal culture affirms the ultimate values and standards a society strives for and by which it can measure its actual progress. The ideal culture can represent hope and aspirations, even against the grimmest social realities. Recall our extended side trip into federal Indian law. We said that whenever Native tribes argue for their rights in American courts, the driving idea or theme behind their argument is: “These are your own American legal principles. All we ask is that you abide by them!” By invoking this theme, tribes seek to expose what they see as the gap between an American legal ideal and an American legal reality. But as we have discussed at length, this does not mean tribes always prevail in the courts or in Congress. If, however, there was no ideal legal culture to call upon – in this case, the fundamental principles of federal Indian law – such arguments would have little chance of being heard let alone being successful. To understand the significance of these principles as ideal legal culture, we take a brief side trip to look at the contrasting case of Aboriginal tribes in Australia. Australian Aborigines: a contrasting Native rights situation. In sharp contrast to the ideal culture of American Indian law is the uncertain legal status of Aborigines, the indigenous peoples of Australia. Unlike the United States, there is no historically developed legal doctrine defining Aboriginal land rights and tribal sovereignty in Australia. Even today, Australian Aborigines cannot say, “These are your own Australian legal principles. All we ask is that you abide by them!” Figure 18 Geographically, Australia is the sixth largest nation in the world. It has, however, a relatively small population of 20 million.. The Australian federation consists of six States and two federal Territories. The Aboriginal population is estimated to be about 500,000, or about 2.5% of the total population. Before the arrival of Europeans, Aboriginal tribes occupied most areas of the Australian continent. Scientific studies indicate that Aborigines inhabited Australia at least 20,000 years before European contact. At the time of contact, Aboriginal people spoke one or more of a hundred different languages. In 1770, Captain James Cook landed on the east coast of Australia. Applying the rule of discovery, he claim it for the British Crown. The Crown then decided to use it as a penal colony. About 160 000 men and women were brought to Australia as convicts starting in 1788. The convicts were joined by free colonists in the 1790s. The wool industry and the gold rushes of the 1850s led to ever increasing European immigration to the Australian colony.16 Until an Australian High Court decision in 1992, the only principle guiding all legal action on the indigenous rights of Aborigines was the doctrine of “terra nullius.” This concept originated in ancient Roman law and means “empty land” or “no man’s land” in Latin. From the time of Christopher Columbus and the Spanish Conquest of the 16th century, terra nullius developed as a major principle of European-made international law. During the era of European exploration and colonial expansion in the 17th and 18th centuries, the definition of terra nullius grew to include not just empty lands, but also lands occupied by tribal people viewed as not having a civilized system of law and property ownership. However, British law said that indigenous peoples may retain some form of Native title to their lands even if these lands were acquired by conquest. The American legal doctrine of aboriginal title has its origins in this early law. [The High Court of Australia is equivalent to the United States Supreme Court.] Yet British law provided colonists with another option. If the newly discovered land was considered unoccupied, then it could be declared terra nullius and free of any Native claims to land and sovereignty. Like the white settlers who occupied Indian lands in the American West, the early colonists in Australia desired large tracts of land for farming, livestock raising, and mineral development. But unlike American settlers and others who often found the West occupied by large, powerful Indian tribes, the British colonists encountered small, nomadic hunter-gatherer groups scattered throughout the Australian continent. They dismissed as uncivilized – even nonexistent – what they knew or imagined about Aboriginal law, governance, and subsistence land use. And they quickly sought to extinguish any Aboriginal attempt to claim Native title by declaring Australia to be terra nullius. Although questioned by some at the time, this declaration was not overruled by the ultimate colonial authority in Australia, the British government. For two hundred years terra nullius survived as Australian legal doctrine automatically extinguishing whatever Aboriginal rights to land and sovereignty might be claimed. Then in 1992 the Australian High Court agreed to hear an Aboriginal challenge to terra nullius. The Court ruled in Mabo v. Queensland that indeed terra nullius had been wrongly applied in 1788. The Court also said that by any reasonable interpretation of modern international law and Australian common law, it certainly does not apply today. As the High Court’s Chief Justice Gerrard Brennan put it, "The fiction by which the rights and interests of indigenous inhabitants in land were treated as non-existent was justified by a policy [of terra nullius] which has no place in the contemporary law of this country."17 Before we Americans get too self-righteous about being better than Australia on Native rights, consider the following statement by Frederick Jackson Turner, the historian famous for arguing that the frontier experience best explained the distinctive character of the American people and their democracy. Writing in 1896 he said:
“The Free lands?” “ The empty spaces of the continent?” Any reasonable person would have to admit that this sounds an awful lot like the doctrine of terra nullius. Although Turner’s frontier thesis has been largely discarded by modern scholars, it was widely accepted when he was writing in the 1890s and early1900s. His “terra nullius” perspective certainly fits in with manifest destiny, the American expansionist ideology of the preceding decades. So, did the striking down of terra nullius as legal doctrine mean Australian Aborigines now have rights to land and sovereignty approaching that of American tribes occupying Indian country? Absolutely not. While the High Court’s decision in Mabo held that the declaration of terra nullius did not extinguish Native title, it also said that other actions by the British Crown over the years may have the power of extinguishment. The Court held that as ultimate sovereign of Australia, any grants of land made by the Crown to non-Aboriginal private or public interests are likely to be valid acts extinguishing any Aboriginal claims to the same land. Much of what the Court gave with one hand, it seemed to take back with the other hand. In response to the Mabo decision, the Australian federal government passed the Native Title Act one year later. The purpose of the Act was to bring the federal government into compliance with the Court’s ruling on terra nullius. This legislation recognized any well documented Aboriginal ownership of land prior to 1788 as basis for a legitimate claim of native title. But echoing the High Court, the Act also said Native title is considered extinguished if the claimed land is now privately owned or under some form of freehold title. Perhaps the greatest obstacle to a just resolution of Aboriginal land claims is the fact that Australia is a confederation of six states, each of which exercise far more sovereign authority than do American states. When an Australian state says it has authority over aboriginal affairs within it boundaries, it becomes very hard for the federal government to say otherwise. The Australian constitution contains no functional equivalent to the American commerce clause interpreted as giving Congress plenary power over Native affairs. As a result, most Aboriginal land claims appear to have little chance of success except in the federally administered Northern Territory. Unlike Australian states, the Northern Territory, or the “Top End” as it is often called, does not have a separate sovereign status like the six states. It is directly administered by the federal government, much like Alaska before gaining statehood in 1959. As you might expect, it is in the Northern Territory where the greatest number of Aborigines now reside, making up 29% of the Territory’s small population of about 200,000. As a result of the 1976 Northern Territory Aboriginal Land Rights Act, many Aborigines live on tribal reserves to which they possess a Native title and exercise measures of sovereignty approaching that of American tribes occupying Indian country. But there still remained one more question: What land rights did Aborigines have on what are know as pastoral leases? These are government leases of huge tracts of land to private cattle and sheep ranching operations for a specified period of time. In the state of Western Australia, for example, pastoral leases account for nearly 70% or 1 million square miles of the state’s land area. In 1996 the High Court looked at this question. In Wik Peoples v State of Queensland the High Court held that if an Aboriginal tribe can clearly prove they have been a cohesive political group and occupied a specific land area within a pastoral lease since pre-colonial times, then they may have a valid claim of Native title or at least a right of access to this land. This requirement should sound familiar to us because it echoes the “historical times” requirement for tribes seeking federal recognition in the United States. The Mabo and Wik decisions and the Native Title Act were highly controversial indeed. Many non-Aboriginal citizens and commercial interests feared losing their property to Aboriginal land claims. And state governments bitterly protested, arguing that the Australian constitution gives them and not the federal government control over Aboriginal affairs within their borders. The federal government may have ultimate ownership of all Australian lands, but it is the states which have ultimate authority over Aboriginal affairs. It is highly unlikely that any of the states will recognize any real degree of Aboriginal sovereign authority over land and people no matter how clearly a tribe can prove it has been continuously governed by its own laws in a well defined place since pre-colonial times. Native rights and the Rule of Law. Western democracies such as the United States and Australia claim to cherish the “rule of law,” which usually means the existence of a well defined body of law to be fairly and equally applied to all. It is the law and not the prejudices and self interests of men that shall prevail. The ideal democratic culture says that regardless of wealth and power, nobody is above the law. This is an assertion we heard numerous times during the impeachment proceedings of President Bill Clinton in the late 1990s. Nobody, not even the President of the United States, is above the law. This frequently proclaimed cultural value of the rule of law makes it more difficult for the United States to dodge a Native argument based on “these are your own legal principles.” Dodging the more abstract and ambiguous “these are your proclaimed moral principles,” however, is another matter. To invoke legal principles means you are making an argument based on established legal doctrine. You are invoking the cherished American cultural ideal of the rule of law. You therefore involve both the political and judicial systems in your case. Obviously in Australia there is no clear rule of law defining the indigenous rights of Aborigines. To rely on moral principles — no matter how eloquent and noble they may be — often means you deal only with the political system. Without having tribal rights principles well established in Australian common law, involvement of the courts is limited. Therefore Aboriginal arguments are largely confined to the political arena where they must compete with other legislative agendas, with powerful interest groups, and with unsympathetic state governments. And every one of these opposing forces will claim to have moral and practical reasons for using Australian lands and resources “for the greater good of the entire nation.” When they reflect the best standards and traditions of the ideal culture, there is simply no substitute for the protections offered by established legal doctrine. The late Standing Rock Sioux scholar, Vine Deloria Jr., has given us instruction at various times in these chapters. Most likely the general public knows him best as a harsh critic of United States Indian policy and the erratic application of federal Indian law. His first book, Custer Died for Your Sins, disturbed many people. It was, nevertheless, a nationwide best seller in the 1970s. Yet even Deloria concedes that the legal principles historically governing the relationship between American tribes and the federal government has meant that, “in spite of the history of exploitation and conquest represented by American settlement of North America, American Indians have actually been treated considerably better than any other aboriginal group on any other continent.”19 What we should be thinking about – key study questions.
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