“SAVE A WHALE, HARPOON A MAKAH”
In some parts of the world, current tensions between hunting and cultural heritage are encapsulated in this statement. The Makah tribe of Native Americans from Washington state were resurrecting their traditional whale hunting, a central part of their religion and lives until it came to an end as a result of commercial whaling, which virtually wiped out the whales on which they relied. Their attempt to revive these traditions met with fierce resistance from people who saw any killing of whales to be totally condemned, hence the slogan.1
Miller, “Exercising Cultural Self-Determination,” 244.
But the killing of whales as part of religious and traditional practices is only one aspect of the often intimate connection between hunting and the cultural heritage of a person, a people, a community, and a nation. “All Eskimo men hunt—or they dream of hunting. To lose touch with the white tracks and the blood in the snow is to lose touch with your culture. Hunter and Eskimo are synonymous.”2
Gill, “Nowhere Land,” 65.
But the taking of life in hunting is not to be lightly regarded. Kato's article illustrates the respect that traditional Japanese whalers afforded their victims. Memorials were erected and even today their spirits are prayed for by Buddhist nuns. The taking of these whales is reflected in both the material cultural heritage of Japan and its intangible cultural heritage.
Many indigenous peoples and tribal people seek to preserve their communities while living in a largely homogeneous external society. To do this, traditional ways of life are emphasized and followed to the largest extent possible. Hunting with its associated rituals is often central to such activities. For example, in February 2007 the state government of New South Wales in Australia entered into an agreement with the Githabul Aboriginal people giving them native title to 112,000 hectares of national parks and state forests in the northeast of the state.
The pact enables the Githabul to practise their traditional customs, including the right to camp, hunt and fish…. Talk for a while to Liam and his mates, and it soon becomes clear that the community has not lost touch with many of the traditional Githabul hunting practices…. They know the best ways to catch turtles, echidnas, goannas, and witchetty grubs.4
Once again, knowledge, part of the intangible cultural heritage, is preserved by allowing these traditional practices to take place. But there are often complex problems when indigenous and traditional peoples have the right to hunt when members of the larger community do not. How can that right be justified?
Fenstemaker considers the Hopi capturing of golden eagle hatchlings by young men scaling the cliffs where their nests are located in Arizona's Wupatki National Monument. The captured birds are raised on the reservation until the time of a religious ceremony when they are smothered, freeing their spirits to carry messages between the physical and spiritual worlds. This practice is controversial because it is seen as contrary to the concept of the park's status as a national wildlife reserve. Conversely, it raises issues of Native American religious rights. Fenstemaker argues that the practice should be allowed to continue, thus protecting not only religious rights but also the intangible cultural value of the eagles to society.
The intangible cultural heritage is a central aspect of hunting in many parts of the world. Shyllon writes of the Argungu Fishing Festival in north-western Nigeria. Dating from the sixteenth century, this festival is part of an ancient fertility ritual; but it has only attracted outside attention in the past 70 years. The ritual, performed before the fishing commences, is associated with a prayer “to the ancestral spirits of the Kebbawa people to send peace, health, progress, and fortune during the coming year.” The actual fishing, accompanied by music and song, takes place over a 1-mile stretch of the Matan Fada River and lasts only 1 hour. Fishing in that place is forbidden for the remainder of the year. It is a cultural means of preserving natural resources through hunting and participation by the community. There are moves to make it more attractive for tourists, and Shyllon warns that these must be carefully managed to prevent damage to the nature and even the very existence of the festival.
Ritual, part of the intangible cultural heritage, was also an essential element of foxhunting in England as shown in Marvin's article. The very nature of the hunt was governed by specific rules known to all participants. The dress of the hunters, the fox hounds bred for the purpose, the literature and art which celebrates it are all part of the heritage of foxhunting. But the people who participated in the process did not appeal to heritage to justify their actions. For them foxhunting “was a present and immediate life.” But Marvin also notes, “Although nobody in the foxhunt world articulated to me a specific notion of heritage, it was certainly there in terms of their beliefs, activities, and concerns.” This way of life has been put under threat by legislation prohibiting foxhunting apart from limited circumstances. In the eyes of its supporters, the legislation “has stripped the fox of its cultural status and reduced it to that of an animal that can be unceremoniously killed if it is deemed to be a nuisance or a pest.”
Marvin refers at one point to the affect of foxhunting on landscape. This is the central topic of Finch's article on hunting, landscape character, and the politics of place. The effect of hunting on landscape, a major element of the cultural heritage, has been noted in many places. For example, in Australia Aboriginals burned the land to improve their hunting opportunities. This selectively encouraged the growth of eucalypts, which is a ionic feature of the Australian landscape.5
Andrews, Back from the Brink, 151, 160.
Finally, Prott makes a brief study of Internet sites on hunting, drawing conclusions on the antiquity and ubiquity of hunting practices and imagery. She writes of its dynamism, evolution, and changing forms and, having related them to the UNESCO Convention for the Safeguarding of the Intangible Cultural Heritage 2003, points to its overlap with certain other heritage instruments. This may create some interesting dilemmas for governments planning to nominate items for the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.
This collection of articles is intended to illustrate and examine the complex set of relationships between hunting and cultural heritage. Those relationships have been little acknowledged in the literature nor in administrative practice. Many people are totally opposed to hunting in any way or form. They seek, as in England with foxhunting, to have all forms of hunting banned, possibly through legislative means enforced by criminal sanctions. The legislator must be aware of the wider ramifications of such prohibitions: There are aspects of society that could well be destroyed and with them the life of a community.
The articles are not intended to examine the morality of hunting although this is part of Kato's article. She argues that the human/nature relationship must be a reciprocal one containing a quality that is “dialogical, sensory/experiential, and place specific.” Humans cannot remain external to the natural world and are responsible for that world which creates both rights and obligations. The latter may be discharged through spiritual practices.
There are many other aspects of the relationship between cultural heritage and hunting that might be examined. These could be the subject of future articles or of comments on the present set of articles. But whatever form it takes, further work is needed. Hunting goes to the traditional core of humankind's existence and forms the basis of much that has come down to us from the past. We need to establish how that heritage will survive and define our relationship to the natural world so that the future is better assured.
