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Thursday, 14 February 2008 The Savage who did not understand I looooove the Earth. Sometimes I wish She could shrink and I could expand until we are both just the right size for me to give her a great Big Hug :) She is to me the simplest example of God’s marvel. Forget the countless stars and galaxies we are told of in science, and also coincidentally (or maybe not!), in Japji. My mind doesn’t even get that far; it just gets stuck when I start thinking of the Earth and how intricate She is. Man has rightly bestowed the title ‘Mother’ upon her – for she dotes on us so. She presides over us rain or shine, wind or snow. Man (and beast) has equally found solace in Her arid deserts and vast savannahs, Her dense forests and undulating hills. She is so enbelievably Beautiful and Bountiful - and She smells fabulous, especially right after it rains :) But mankind, being mankind, does not always remember to love Her like She does us – and that is exactly the spirit in which Chief Seattle spoke on that day in 1854. I first read Chief Seattle’s speech for a school assignment. It is described as ‘one of the most beautiful and profound statements’ ever made on the environment. Bear in mind that there is a great deal of controversy on the origins speech; in fact there are debates over its very existence. The version below is actually said to be fraudulent; written by a screenwriter for a movie. That may very well be true – it does seem too beautiful to have ever been uttered in real life. My suggestion? Forget where it comes from. Take it as poetry from a child of Mother Earth. Before you read on, you will have to travel back in time to the 1850s, in America, during the struggle between the White Man and the Native Indian. INTRODUCTION In 1854, the "Great White Chief" in Washington made an offer for a large area of Indian land and promised a `reservation' for the Indian people. Chief Seattle's reply has been described as the most beautiful and profound statement on the environment ever made. THIS EARTH IS PRECIOUS How can you buy or sell the sky, the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and sparkle of the water, how can you buy them? ALL SACRED Every part of this earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every clearing and humming insect is holy in the memory and experience of my people. The sap which courses through the trees carries the memories of the red man. The white man's dead forget the country of their birth when they go to walk among the stars. Our dead never forget this beautiful earth, for it is the mother of the red man. We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters; the deer, the horse, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the juices in the meadows, the body heat of the pony, and man--all belong to the same family. NOT EASY So, when the Great Chief in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy land, he asks much of us. The Great Chief sends word he will reserve us a place so that we can live comfortably to ourselves. He will be our father and we will be his children. So we will consider your offer to buy our land. But it will not be easy. For this land is sacred to us. This shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not just water but the blood of our ancestors. If we sell you land, you must remember that it is sacred, and you must teach your children that it is sacred and that each ghostly reflection in the clear water of the lakes tells of events and memories in the life of my people. The water's murmur is the voice of my father's father. KINDNESS The rivers are our brothers, they quench our thirst. The rivers carry our canoes, and feed our children. If we sell you our land, you must remember, and teach your children, that the rivers are our brothers, and yours, and you must henceforth give the rivers the kindness you would give any brother. We know that the white man does not understand our ways. One portion of land is the same to him as the next, for he is a stranger who comes in the night and takes from the land whatever he needs. The earth is not his brother, but his enemy, and when he has conquered it, he moves on. He leaves his father's graves behind, and he does not care. He kidnaps the earth from his children, and he does not care. His father's grave, and his children's birthright, are forgotten. He treats his mother, the earth, and his brother, the sky, as things to be bought, plundered, sold like sheep or bright beads. His appetite will devour the earth and leave behind only a desert. I do not know. Our ways are different from your ways. The sight of your cities pains the eyes of the red man. But perhaps it is because the red man is a savage and does not understand. There is no quiet place in the white man's cities. No place to hear the unfurling of leaves in spring, or the rustle of an insect's wings. But perhaps it is because I am a savage and do not understand. The clatter only seems to insult the ears. And what is there to life if a man cannot hear the lonely cry of the whippoorwill or the arguments of the frogs around a pond at night? I am a red man and do not understand. The Indian prefers the soft sound of the wind darting over the face of a pond, and the smell of the wind itself, cleaned by a midday rain, or scented with the pinion pine. PRECIOUS The air is precious to the red man, for all things share the same breath--the beast, the tree, the man, they all share the same breath. The white man does not seem to notice the air he breathes. Like a man dying for many days, he is numb to the stench. But if we sell you our land, you must remember that the air is precious to us, that the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports. The wind that gave our grandfather his first breath also receives his last sigh. And if we sell you our land, you must keep it apart and sacred, as a place where even the white man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow's flowers. ONE CONDITION So we will consider your offer to buy our land. If we decide to accept, I will make one condition: The white man must treat the beasts of this land as his brothers. I am a savage and I do not understand any other way. I've seen a thousand rotting buffaloes on the prairie, left by the white man who shot them from a passing train. I am a savage and I do not understand how the smoking iron horse can be more important than the buffalo that we kill only to stay alive. What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone, man would die from a great loneliness of spirit. For whatever happens to the beasts, soon happens to man. All things are connected. THE ASHES You must teach your children that the ground beneath their feet is the ashes of your grandfathers. So that they will respect the land, tell your children that the earth is rich with the lives of our kin. Teach your children what we have taught our children, that the earth is our mother. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth. If men spit upon the ground, they spit upon themselves. This we know: The earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth. This we know. All things are connected like the blood which unites one family. All things are connected. Whatever befalls the earth befalls the sons of the earth. Man did not weave the web of life: he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself. Even the white man, whose God walks and talks with him as friend to friend, cannot be exempt from the common destiny. We may be brothers after all. We shall see. One thing we know, which the white man may one day discover, our God is the same God. You may think now that you own Him as you wish to own our land; but you cannot. He is the God of man, and His compassion is equal for the red man and the white. This earth is precious to Him, and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its Creator. The whites too shall pass; perhaps sooner than all other tribes. Contaminate your bed, and you will one night suffocate in your own waste. But in your perishing you will shine brightly, fired by the strength of God who brought you to this land and for some special purpose gave you dominion over this land and over the red man. That destiny is a mystery to us, for we do not understand when the buffalo are all slaughtered, the wild horses are tamed, the secret corners of the forest heavy with scent of many men, and the view of the ripe hills blotted by talking wires. Where is the thicket? Gone. Where is the eagle? Gone. The end of living and the beginning of survival. It seems to me, that the 'savage' probably understood it best of all. Posted by Harkiren Kaur at 1:17 pm 2 comments: Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)
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PORUKA 'DIVLJEG ČOVJEKA' IZ POVIJESTI - PORUKA KOJA VRIJEDI ZA SVE NAS DANAS 'RAZVIJENE BIJELE LJUDE; Svi danas, kakvog god socijalnog statusa, vjere i dobi bili, neminovni smo svjedoci tehnološko-industrijske ere koja je zavladala na gotovo svakom kutku ove naše planete. Postali smo, svi bez iznimke, odgovorni učesnici u onome što se može dogoditi i onome što će se uistinu dogoditi našem okolišu koji uključuje sve ljude okolo nas ali isto tako i svu prirodu okolo nas. Veliko pitanje se može postaviti koliko nam je ovaj drugi vid okoliša prisutan u našem razmišljanju. Kako gledamo, kako osjećamo i kako štujemo - prirodu. Možda kad bismo probali ili barem zaželjeli 'mrvčicu' gledati na prirodu oko nas kao što gleda indijanski poglavica iz SAD-a koji sebe naziva divljim čovjekom, možda bi se i priroda osvrnula na taj naš pogled i dala nam odgovor koji nije samo u vidu iskoristivosti već u vidu duhovnog doživljaja, divljenja te time i dubokog poštivanja svakog njezinog dijela. Pismo indijanskog poglavice Seattle-a iz 1854. godine, upućeno američkome predsjedniku u Washington kao odgovor na ponudu da bijelci kupe indijansku zemlju. Veliki poglavica - Chief Seattle, 1786. © Izvor: Wikipedia "Kako možete kupiti ili prodati nebo, toplinu zemlje? Ta ideja nam je strana. Ako mi ne posjedujemo svježinu zraka i bistrinu vode, kako vi to možete kupiti? Svaki dio te zemlje svet je za moj narod. Svaka sjajna borova iglica, svaka pješčana obala, svaka magla u tamnoj šumi, svaki kukac sveti su u pamćenju i iskustvu mog naroda. Sokovi koji kolaju kroz drveće nose sjećanje na crvenog čovjeka. Mrtvi bijeli ljudi zaboravljaju zemlju svoga rođenja kada odu u šetnju među zvijezde. Naši mrtvi nikada ne zaboravljaju ovu lijepu zemlju jer ona je majka crvenoga čovjeka. Mi smo dio zemlje i ona je dio nas. Mirisavo cvijeće naše su sestre; jelen, konj, veliki orao, svi oni su naša braća. Stjenoviti vrhunci, sočni pašnjaci, toplina tijela ponija i čovjek - svi pripadaju istoj obitelji. Tako, kad Veliki poglavica iz Washingtona šalje glas da želi kupiti našu zemlju, traži previše od nas. Veliki poglavica šalje glas da će nam sačuvati mjesto tako da ćemo mi sami moći živjeti udobno. On će nam biti otac i mi ćemo biti njegova djeca. Mi ćemo razmotriti vašu ponudu da kupite našu zemlju. Ali to neće biti tako lako. Jer ta je zemlja nama sveta. Ta sjajna voda što teče brzacima i rijekama nije samo voda već i krv naših predaka. Ako vam prodamo zemlju, morate se sjetiti da je to sveto i da svaki odraz u bistroj vodi jezera priča događaje i sjećanja moga naroda. Žubor vode glas je oca moga oca. Rijeke su naša braća. One nam utažuju žeđ. Rijeke nose naše kanue i hrane našu djecu. Ako vam prodamo svoju zemlju, morate se sjetiti i učiti svoju djecu da su rijeke naša braća, i vaša, i morate od sada dati rijekama dobrotu kakvu biste pružili svakome bratu. Mi znamo da bijeli čovjek ne razumije naš život. Jedan dio zemlje njemu je jednak kao i drugi, jer on je stranac koji dođe noću i uzima od zemlje sve što želi. Zemlja nije njegov brat nego njegov prijatelj i kada je pokori on kreće dalje. On za sobom ostavlja grobove otaca i ne brine On otima zemlju od svoje djece i ne brine se. Grobovi njegovih otaca i zemlja što mu djecu rađa zaboravljeni su. Odnosi se prema majci zemlji i prema bratu nebu kao prema stvarima što se mogu kupiti, opljačkati, prodati kao stado ili sjajan nakit. Njegova pohlepa prožderat će zemlju i ostaviti samo pustoš. Ne znam, naš način je drukčiji nego vaš. Izgled vaših gradova boli oči crvenog čovjeka. Ali možda je to zato jer crveni čovjek je divlji i ne razumije. Nema mirnog mjesta u gradovima bijeloga čovjeka. Nema mjesta da se čuje otvaranje listova u proljeće ili drhtaj krilaca kukaca. Ali možda je to zato jer sam divlji i ne razumijem. Buka jedino djeluje kao uvreda za uši. što je to život ako čovjek ne može čuti osamljeni krik kozoroga ili noćnu prepirku žaba u bari? Ja sam crveni čovjek i ne razumijem. Indijanac više voli blagi zvuk vjetra kad se poigrava licem močvare kao i sam miris vjetra očišćen podnevnom kišom ili namirisan borovinom. Zrak je skupocjen za crvenog čovjeka jer sve živo dijeli jednaki dah - životinja, biljka i čovjek. Bijeli čovjek ne izgleda kao da opaža zrak koji diše. Kao čovjek koji umire mnogo dana, on je otupio na smrad. Ali ako vam prodamo našu zemlju, morate se sjetiti da je zrak skupocjen za nas, da zrak dijeli svoj duh sa svim životima koje podržava. Vjetar što je mojem djedu dao prvi dah također će prihvatiti i njegov posljednji uzdah. I ako vam prodamo svoju zemlju, morate je čuvati kao svetinju, kao mjesto kamo će i bijeli čovjek moći doći da okusi vjetar što je zaslađen mirisom poljskoga cvijeća. Tako ćemo razmatrati vašu ponudu da kupite našu zemlju. Ako odlučimo da prihvatimo, postavit ću jedan uvjet: Bijeli čovjek mora se odnositi prema životinjama ove zemlje kao prema svojoj braći. Ja sam divljak i ne razumijem neki drugi način. Vidio sam tisuće raspadajućih bizona u preriji što ih je ostavio bijeli čovjek ustrijelivši ih iz prolazećeg vlaka. Ja sam divljak i ne razumijem kako dimeći željezni konj može biti važniji nego bizon koga mi ubijamo samo da ostanemo živi. Što je čovjek bez životinja? Ako sve životinje odu, čovjek će umrijeti od velike osamljenosti duha. Što god se desilo životinjama, ubrzo će se dogoditi i čovjeku. Sve stvari su povezane. Spomenik poglavici Seattle u Seattleu, država Washington, USA © Izvor: Wikipedia Morate naučiti svoju djecu da je tlo pod njihovim stopama pepeo njihovih djedova. Tako da će oni poštovati zemlju. Recite djeci da je zemlja s nama u rodu. Učite svoju djecu, kao i što činimo mi sa svojom, da je zemlja naša majka. Što god snađe zemlju snaći će i sinove zemlje. Ako čovjek pljuje na tlo, pljuje na sebe samoga. To mi znamo zemlja ne pripada čovjeku; čovjek pripada zemlji. To mi znamo. Sve stvari povezane su kao krv koja ujedinjuje obitelj. Sve stvari su povezane. Što god snađe zemlju, snaći će i sinove zemlje. Čovjek ne tka tkivo života: on je samo struk u tome. Što god čini tkanju, čini i sebi samome. Čak i bijeli čovjek, čiji Bog govori i šeta s njime kao prijatelj s prijateljem, ne može biti izuzet od zajedničke sudbine. Mi možemo biti braća, poslije svega. Vidjet ćemo, jednu stvar znamo koju će bijeli čovjek jednoga dana otkriti - naš Bog je isti Bog. Vi sada možete misliti da ga vi imate kao što želite imati našu zemlju; ali to ne možete. On je Bog čovjeka i njegova samilost jednaka je za crvenoga čovjeka kao i za bijeloga. Ta je zemlja draga Njemu, a škoditi zemlji, znači prezirati njezina Stvoritelja. Bijeli također trebaju prolaz; možda brže nego sva druga plemena. Zaprljajte svoj krevet i jedne noći ugušit ćete se u vlastitom smeću. Ali u vašoj propasti svijetlit će sjajno, potpaljeni snagom Boga koji vas je donio na ovu zemlju i za neku posebnu svrhu dao vam vlast nad njome kao i nad crvenim čovjekom. Sudbina je za nas misterij, jer mi ne znamo kad će svi bizoni biti poklani i divlji konji pripitomljeni, tajni kutovi šume teški zbog mirisa mnogih ljudi i pogled na zrele brežuljke zamrljan brbljajućom žicom. Gdje je guštara? Otišla je. Gdje je Orao? Otišao je. To je konac življenja i početak borbe za preživljavanje".