Magic mirrors of indigenous peoples.

 

“Every indigenous people is capable of comprehending a man in the position of an anthropologist, but far from every man is capable of comprehending that an anthropologist is merely a position, no matter how many books he has written.”

 

When a representative of academic anthropology sets out to study indigenous peoples –the Papuans, North American Indians, Saami, Inuit, or Veps – the question arises: whom exactly is he studying?

 

At first glance, the answer is obvious. He studies an indigenous people: their language, culture, mythology, rituals. This is precisely how the task of anthropology is comprehended, where it is postulated that there exists the so-called “object of research” – an indigenous people, and there exists the so-called “subject of research” – a scholar. One is observed, the other observes. However, hidden within this seemingly flawless scheme is an enormous error. No position can observe. Only man is capable of observing.

 

An anthropologist is a position that a man enters. And while a man fully identifies himself with his professional role or mask, he begins to take his own way of seeing the world for the natural order of things. That is, the mask describes the culture of an indigenous people, first of all by describing the structure of its own mask-wearing thinking.

 

Many indigenous peoples have long been able to see those who continue to define themselves by their position, thanks to magic mirrors in which the way of thinking of everyone who comes to an indigenous people is instantly reflected. A man completely fused with his position never notices this fusion. He is sincerely convinced that he observes the world as it is. Therefore, when coming to the Papuans, Veps or any other indigenous people, such a researcher notices first of all what differs from the world familiar to him. The attention of one who is not separated from his position is always externally oriented, and this is why bright rituals of speaking with spirits, ornaments, unusual clothing, souvenirs, dances, “peculiar” forms of gift exchange, magical rituals, and practices of verbal interpretation of dreams are so attractive. All this appears exotic to such a researcher. This is confirmed by the kinds of notes he makes in his diaries and by what exactly he tells others when sharing his impressions of a visit to an indigenous people. One can open numerous academic publications and encounter the familiar formula: “The Inuit believe…,” “The Papuans believe…,” “The Veps believe…” But what does this word “believe” mean? For the modern average consciousness, there is a distinction between knowledge and belief. One can know, one can doubt, one can verify. But do such concepts exist within the indigenous people themselves? Of course not.

 

For an indigenous people, everything is the knowledge of the ancestors, who always possessed magic, knew the names of all plants, the names of all animals, methods of cultivating the land, and the kons of creating family and clan unions. Following this, for indigenous peoples, is the preservation of the order established by the ancestors. When an indigenous people addresses their ancestors, the presence of the ancestors is not for them a matter of belief. It requires neither confirmation nor refutation. Consequently, by using the word “believe,” the researcher describes not the worldview of the indigenous people at all, but his own way of distinguishing knowledge from belief, and transfers this distinction into the culture of the indigenous people. Thus, the study of an indigenous people turns into a description of the researcher himself, and the more reasonable and “objective” his description seems, the deeper he immerses himself in his own delusions and attributes to the indigenous people whom they have never been.

 

But not every man remains a prisoner of his position. We honor the remarkable, wonderful man Bronislaw Malinowski, who clearly comprehended who he was and was able at any time to step out of the position of a scholar-anthropologist, and precisely for this reason did what no one before him had done. He settled among the inhabitants of the Trobriand Islands, learned their language, and lived with the indigenous tribal people. He did not observe them, but lived with them, abandoning the research methods of the familiar mask of the anthropologist. Malinowski realized that it is impossible to comprehend a culture if you do not become aware that you are a man. An anthropologist will never comprehend an indigenous people until he realizes that an anthropologist is merely a position. And the one who thinks is a man. Only man is capable of asking himself the question: “Why do I interpret what I have seen in precisely this way? Is it not because my limited thinking compels me to see precisely this?” At this moment, man begins to study himself. If, however, the researcher does not step out of his role, then his chances of comprehending the indigenous people and himself are zero.

 

And indigenous peoples still carefully hold magic mirrors in their hands and gladly help researchers step beyond familiar roles, statuses, and positions and discover themselves alive and thinking.

 

Why do indigenous peoples need this? Indigenous peoples know that they remain the last refuge for those who have lost connection with their roots. Therefore, they remind us that the way home begins not with a road, but with recognizing one’s own thinking.