Layers and Meaning; Crime and Punishment

Flickr Photo - HA! Designs

When we are perceptive our experiences overlay one another in such a way that new meanings emerge from proximity and context as much as from the content of the isolated events. Now that's a long-winded, pseudo-philosophic statement if I ever heard one! Let's get down to an illustrating case study, which is unfolding for me right now.

It involves three seemingly distinct experiences, which have overlain one another to create a new filter through which I can interpret my world. I'll list the experiences. See if you can figure out their relationships before I get back into my long-windedness:

• I am presently struggling with debilitating pain caused by a groin injury, which I incurred playing the beautiful game - that's soccer for anyone out there who may be entertaining varient visions;
• I recently attended a book launch for a volume called Educating for Peacebuilding, written by Catherine Bargen, BC's Coordinator for Restorative Justice. Catherine has been instrumental in implementing a Restorative Action programs in schools all over the world;
• I am currently reading Romeo Dellaire's agonizing account of how child soldiers are recruited, trained and abused by military regimes in destabilized regions throughout the world.

Take thirty seconds or so to see if you can identify the connecting strand between those disparate streams of consciousness. Then, if you are interested, read on.

Are we responsible for our ancestors' crimes?

I have been reading British Columbia Chronicle 1847-1871. As a Canadian of British and Scottish ancestry, I must confess many of the passages concerning Europeans' first contacts with native peoples make me cringe. One in particular should be the prelude to every conversation on the topic of collective culpability for past actions. It is an autobiographical account of a meeting between Gilbert Malcolm Sproat with the aboriginal people who had a summer camp at the head of the Alberni inlet, where he was to establish a sawmill. In his book Scenes and Studies of Savage Life Mr. Sproat recounts as follows:

"Chiefs of the Seshahts," said I on entering, "are you well; are your women in health; are your children hearty; do your people get plenty of fish and fruits?"

"Yes," answered an old man, "our families are well, our people have plenty of food; but how long this will last we know not. We see your ships and hear things that make our hearts grow faint. They say that more King-George-men will soon be here, and will take our land, our firewood, our fishing grounds; that we shall be placed on a little spot, and shall have to do everything according to the fancies of the King-George-men."

"Do you believe all this," I asked.

"We want your information," said the speaker.

"Then," answered I, "it is true that more King-George-men (as they call the English) are coming: they will soon be here; but your land will be bought at a fair price."

"We do not wish to sell our land nor our water; let your friends stay in their own country."

To which I rejoined: "My great chief, the high chief of the King-George-men, seeing that you do not work your land, orders that you shall sell it. It is of no use to you. The trees you do not need; you will fish and hunt as you do now, and collect firewood, planks for your houses, and cedar for your canoes. The white man will give you work, and buy your fish and oil."

"Ah, but we don't care to do as the white men wish."

"Whether or not," said I, "the white men will come. All your people know that they are your superiors; they make things which you value. You cannot make muskets, blankets, or bread. The white men will teach your children to read printing, and to be like themselves."

"We do not want the white man. He steals what we have. We wish to live as we are."

The sorry history of European-Indigenous relations throughout the period of colonial empire is encapsulated in that exchange, which took place in 1860 - just 150 years ago. It has been a history skewed by greed and arrogance, occasionally moderated by blithe paternalism. From the excerpt you can extrapolate the disgraceful future-history of the reserve system, residential schools, and the social problems that plague First Nations to this day.

Can I really wash my hands of this record? Can I rest my case on some variant of Social Darwinism, which says the strong must take what they need or succumb to those who won't hesitate to assert their 'superior' claims? Can I say the past is past, let's get on with the future?