Anarchism Has Indigenous Roots

Across the United States, activists are responding to the pandemic crisis with anarchist strategies, like mutual aid. In Window Rock, Arizona -- the seat of the Navajo Nation -- the K'é Infoshop is one such group, and has been providing food and medical supplies to elders, families, and those infected with the virus. In a recent article in "The Nation," the Infoshop's members said their style of autonomous organizing has distinctly Navajo roots.
 

Just a few minutes from the Navajo Nation government offices, the K'é Infoshop opened its doors in April 2017 in a vacant coffee shop. Inside, early collective members painted each wall to correspond with the sacred Navajo colors -- black, white, turquoise, and yellow -- and began stocking the space with Native American books and magazines. Near the entrance, they hung a painting of a women's turquoise-ring-clad hands wrapped around jail bars -- a piece by a member who the group says was unjustly arrested in a police raid of the nearby flea market while she shared her lunch with a group of homeless people. Across the back wall, they put up red stenciled letters that spelled out, "K'é does not discriminate."
 

Anthropologists frequently describe k'é as the Navajo kinship system, but Infoshop members say it's much more than that. "It's our theory of everything," K'é co-founder Brandon Benallie declared. "It's our string theory. It's how we're connected to everything -- but specifically how that kinship is reciprocated and maintained. K'é is this huge overlapping philosophy that the whole universe is interconnected. But it's also these relationships that we have with one another and with the elements that exist in the world, whether that be the weather or the water or the animals."
 

Although there is a markedly European jargon to describing contemporary anarchism, the movement has long been influenced by Indigenous ideas. Being Navajo could be considered anarchist because they never had chiefs; they didn't have a hierarchy. It was always horizontal. Socialism and anarchism derived ideology from Franciscan missionaries who came to the Navajo Nation in the 1500s and 1600s and studied Indigenous societies. And later you have notable activists like Karl Marx, Friedrich Engels, and Mikhail Bakunin reading the journals of these religious figures and how they describe Indigenous societies at that time.
 

As soon as the pandemic hit the Navajo Nation, K'é's members decided they had to help. K'é utilized the food pantry it had stocked for weekly solidarity meals with homeless community members. They gave away a years supply of food in just two weeks. At first the Infoshop was alone in its relief efforts in Navajo Nation, but by April and May, other mutual aid projects began to emerge. The youth-led Navajo & Hopi Families COVID-19 Relief project raised funds to place large orders and organized teams to distribute upwards of 10,000 pounds of food each week across the 27,000 square miles of the reservation.
 

As the Navajo government struggled to control the spread of the outbreak, it established curfews and stay-at-home orders that no doubt saved lives, but made it more difficult for families to travel to any of the reservation's 13 grocery stores. Mutual aid groups obtained essential worker passes to distribute food after curfew, but organizers still faced resistance from the government. They were harassed on many occasions by Navajo police pulling them over and telling them that their authorization letters were not valid.
 

Commenting on the impacts of the pandemic and rapid growth of mutual aid groups across the country, Benallie noted, "Every time capitalism fails, we land on socialism, we land on anarchism, to take care of us. I hope it makes people question who is there for them. Was it the $1,200 stimulus check or six months of unemployment? Or was it the good people of the earth who were organizing resources and material needs to make sure that you don't go to sleep hungry or that your children don't go to sleep hungry?" he said. "Capitalism fosters this unhealthy, highly individualist view of oneself. People began to forget their responsibilities to each other, to the land, and began to only worry about how much they can benefit from the imbalance from broken kinship."
 

As organizers contemplate strategies to take care of their communities in the absence of government support, Benallie urges them to remember their relationships to one another and to the planet. "We can't do this alone. We need all of the good people of the earth to come together."

Appropriate Destruction

From a shamanic perspective, all creation is based on some form of destruction. In order to create something new, something old first must be destroyed. The old form is taken apart and from its energetic source, something new arises. Nature offers the best examples of this constant destruction in the form of seasonal changes. As each season gives way to the next, something is destroyed in the process. Fall kills off the green leaves and lays the landscape bare. Winter kills off the insects and weakest animals. Spring destroys the snowpack and brings floods. Summer bakes the land, drying up the streams and plants. Everywhere in nature are examples of great destruction that reform the land, creating a new canvas for change. Earthquakes, tornadoes, floods, hurricanes, tsunamis, erupting volcanoes, and withering droughts destroy the landscape as it was, clearing the way for new life, new forms, new possibilities.
 

Shamans acknowledge the awesome power of transformation that comes with destruction and seek to harness that power. One powerful universal shamanic motif of appropriate destruction is the dismemberment of the apprentice during the initiation as a shaman. The individual dies a symbolic death and is then restored and brought back to life. Completing this restorative rite is precisely the task of the shaman. As anthropologist Joan Halifax explains in her book Shamanic Voices, "The shaman is a healed healer who has retrieved the broken pieces of his or her body and psyche and, through a personal rite of transformation, has integrated many planes of life experience: the body and the spirit, the ordinary and non-ordinary, the individual and the community, nature and supernature, the mythic and the historical, the past, the present and the future."
 

The viewpoint emerging from the shamanic community suggests the times we live in have a theme of planetary and cosmological initiation. Shamanic initiation is most often precipitated by physical, psychological, emotional, or spiritual events that force the ego into submission. Who we believe ourselves to be is not who we truly are. No matter how many years one has been developing their consciousness, no one is exempt from this shamanic death-and-rebirth. This is a shamanic initiation on the grandest cosmological scale.
 

The times we find ourselves in are like a great river in flood. We can try to hold on to the shore to save ourselves from being swept along with the current. But this is a futile effort, for nothing can resist the great tide of change that is sweeping through and forever altering life as we have known it for millennia. Instead, we are being challenged to let go and go with the flow. We are being given the opportunity to surrender to the current of change so that new dreams and visions can emerge.
 

The cure for dismemberment is appropriate destruction. An appropriate destruction measure for anyone would be to get rid of anything that does not contribute to personal growth and learning. This would include the elimination of unnecessary possessions, ideas, habits and limiting beliefs that no longer serve you. Situations, careers or relationships that no longer resonate with you will eventually fall away from your life. When you clear out the old, you make way for the new.

Pre-Columbian Council Circle Discovered in Kansas

Archaeologists using new drone-sensing technology have found evidence of an enormous, horseshoe-shaped trench hidden beneath a Kansas ranch. The rounded earthwork, which may be part of the largest pre-Hispanic settlement north of Mexico, appears to be what's known as a council circle. To date, researchers have identified five such structures across 22 sites in the area. Ancestors of the modern Wichita and Affiliated Tribes lived in what is now southeastern Kansas between about 900 and 1650 A.D. They lived in grass-roofed pit houses; hunted bison; and farmed crops like squash, beans and corn.
 

Over time, erosion filled the newly discovered earthwork with topsoil, concealing it from view. But modern sensors can detect subtle differences in temperature and foliage between the filled trench and the earth around it. The researchers located the ditch through a combination of drone surveying and LiDAR, infrared and thermal imaging.
 

Relic hunters who looted the region in the 1800s gave council circles their name, but the earthworks' actual purpose remains unclear. Researchers have previously posited that the structures served as the site of ritual ceremonies, housed community elites or offered protection from invaders. Archaeologists now suggest that sites including the just-detailed trench were part of Etzanoa, a population center dubbed the "Great Settlement" by Spanish conquistadors.
 

Spanish colonizers first encountered Etzanoa in the 1590s, when an unauthorized group traveled north in search of Quivira, a mythical city of gold. Though the expedition ended violently, one survivor managed to return and inform the Spanish of what he'd seen. In 1601, conquistador Juan de Onate marched to the settlement, captured a resident and tortured him until he revealed the city's name.
 

Archaeologists first excavated the site of the newly discovered council circle more than 60 years ago. But by 1967, they felt that they had discovered all of the mounds and earthworks located along Walnut River. Thanks to new technology, contemporary researchers have proven these predecessors wrong. Led by Dartmouth anthropologist Jesse Casana, the study's authors used nighttime thermal imaging to measure how daytime heat dissipated from the soil. The ancient ditch, which measures roughly 165 feet in diameter and 6.5 feet thick, is filled with looser soil than the tightly packed prairie around it; as a result, it holds more moisture and radiates less heat at night.
 

Casana and his colleagues identified the ditch as a cooler, darker horseshoe shape in a warm landscape. They then followed up during the day with photography and infrared imaging. The team also reviewed previous aerial and satellite images, spotting the circular formation in photos taken in June 2015 and July 2017. Researchers plan to continue exploring the site with remote-sensing techniques, which will hopefully enable them to develop precise targets for future excavations.
 

This article first appeared in the September 2020 issue of Smithsonian Magazine