CHAPTER XV

EUROPEANS AND NATIVES

The relation of the Europeans to the Greenlanders is in many respects

unique, for the Eskimos have been treated more tenderly than any

other primitive people which has been subjected to our experiments in

civilisation. The Danish Government certainly deserves the highest

respect for its action in this matter, and it were much to be desired

that other States would follow the example here given them. Care for

the true welfare of the natives has been largely operative in their

policy, and there is scarcely another instance of a people of hunters

which has come into such close contact with European civilisation and

proselytism, and has held its own so well for so long a time.

We do not often meet with such enthusiasm as that which impelled our

countryman Hans Egede and the first missionaries to seek out this at

that time almost unknown land, and led them to endure so many hardships

there. They did it with the best of motives, and thought that they

were thereby advancing both the spiritual and temporal welfare of the

Eskimo. If we compare this mission and the treatment of Greenland as

a whole with the conduct of Europeans under similar circumstances in

other parts of the world, we cannot but recognise the working of an

unusually humane spirit; and as we examine the whole history of the

government of Greenland down to our own day, we find ever new and

gratifying examples of this spirit.

With all the good will in the world, however, civilised men cannot

resist the tendency to look down upon a primitive people as essentially

their inferiors. Even in the history of Greenland we find many proofs

of this. We learn from his own writings that the devoted Hans Egede

himself cherished no small contempt for the natives whom he held it his

mission to christianise. He even relates how he often beat them, and

had them flogged, or given the rope's end. On one occasion, learning

from a small boy that an angekok, named Elik, had said that it would

be an easy matter to root out the foreigners who had come to their

country, he set off with seven armed men, fell upon the angekok, took

him prisoner, and brought him to the colony. There 'he received some

blows with the rope's end, and was put in irons.' In the evening the

angekok's sons came to inquire about their father, and 'were permitted,

at their own request, to pitch their tents in the colony.' After a

few days the prisoner was set at liberty, and they went away. One

might suppose that after such treatment the Greenlanders would bear

ill-will to the foreigners; but their good-humour and hospitality

are incomparable. As luck would have it, the following winter, Hans

Egede's son, Paul, who had taken part in this high-handed proceeding,

was driven by stress of weather to a place where he was surprised

to find the angekok Elik. It was not particularly pleasant, as he

himself confesses; but to his astonishment he was invited to take up

his quarters with the angekok, who spread a reindeer-skin for him upon

his own sleeping-bench. There Paul Egede had to remain for three days,

and was entertained with the best of everything.[174] This is indeed

'To return good for evil' and 'To do good to them that hate you'; but

Egede attributed it to the Greenlanders' willingness 'to put up with

punishment when they feel they have deserved it.'

Hans Egede had also another habit, which does not show the greatest

possible consideration towards the natives; he would now and then take

children to his house, against their parents' wishes, and keep them

there to learn the language from them. In this connection they made a

song about him: 'There has come a strange man over the great sea from

the West, who steals boys, and gives them thick soup with skin upon it

(that is, porridge) to eat, and dried earth from his own land (that is,

ship's biscuits).' When Paul Egede on one occasion offered a mother a

present if she would let her son remain some time longer with him, she

answered that children were not articles of commerce.

We can still find evidences in Greenland of how difficult it is for

us to get rid of our ingrained contempt for all so-called aborigines.

The motive of the Europeans for supporting colonies in the country is

that they may be a blessing to it; it is, of course, exclusively for

the sake of the mission and of the natives that trade is carried on.

Nevertheless, the relation between the natives and the foreigners has

come to rest on an entirely wrong basis. The foreigners are regarded

both by themselves and by the Greenlanders as a higher race and the

lords of the country, to whom all obedience is due; whereas, if they

were really there for the sake of the natives, they ought rather to be

their self-sacrificing servants. Half voluntarily, half involuntarily,

the Europeans have themselves emphasised this relation, and have all

along treated the natives as a subject race. We came to the country

to preach Christianity; but how does this accord with our Christian

doctrine of freedom and equality, and especially with the example of

Christ himself?

As an instance of the extent to which this abuse has been carried I

may mention that at several settlements in South Greenland the natives

are forbidden to keep dogs, because the handful of European families

who live there want to keep goats. This prohibition has, it is true,

in many cases been determined upon in the local council (see p. 321);

but it has been proposed by the Europeans, and as the Greenlanders,

as I have said, always follow their lead, it was not difficult to get

them to consent to it, against their own real wishes. I have heard them

regretting bitterly that they should have been so foolish as to agree

to such a prohibition. The most glaring injustice, however, is to be

seen in the villages where the German missionaries reside, and where,

for no other reason but that his own goats may live in peace, the

reverend gentleman issues an ukase forbidding his flock to keep dogs.

I have spoken of this to many otherwise intelligent and kind-hearted

residents in Greenland, but found them all of the opinion that since

the dogs chased and worried the goats, it followed as a matter of

course that they must be prohibited. On my objecting that the Europeans

were few and the Greenlanders many, so that it was more reasonable that

the latter should forbid the keeping of goats, they simply laughed in

my face. It did not seem to occur to them that they themselves are the

interlopers, and that the Eskimos have kept dogs from time immemorial.

Nor did they see anything particularly wrong in the fact that the

goats often tore the turf from the roof and walls of the Greenlanders'

houses, injured their fish when it was hung up to dry, and so forth.

Another result of the different manner in which the rights of the

Europeans and of the natives are regarded is to be found in the

regulations concerning the sale of brandy. While it is illegal, as

stated in Chapter V., to sell brandy to the natives of the country,

the European residents are free to have as much of it as they please.

This is unfortunate: for it can scarcely fail to annoy the natives to

have it perpetually brought home to them that they are not held good

enough to be entrusted with that which the meanest European may have at

will. But this ordinance becomes still more hurtful from the fact that

the Greenlanders who enter into the service of Europeans are allowed

brandy every day, while others can obtain it if they sell something to

the Europeans. That this may easily lead to the gravest abuses is clear

enough, and we may be sure that it has actually done so. I pass over

minor inconsistencies, such as the fact that certain individual natives

of mixed descent and of social importance are allowed to order from

Europe a stated quantity of brandy every year.

It was of course a clear necessity to forbid the sale of brandy in

Greenland, on pain of greatly accelerating the extermination of the

native race. But the only right and consistent thing to do would have

been to make the prohibition apply to natives and Europeans alike. Many

maintain, I am aware, that this would have been to inflict an unjust

hardship upon the Europeans, who have all their lives been accustomed

to this stimulant; and I know that this would have been specially the

case with regard to people from Denmark, where brandy is drunk at

almost every meal, even among the working classes, and where it is

thus regarded as well-nigh a necessity of life. But notwithstanding

this, I cannot but hold to my opinion that a general prohibition would

have been the only right and advantageous thing for both parties. Such

a demand cannot be called unjust; for if the prohibition is known

beforehand, it is always open to any European to refrain from going

to Greenland, and I have no fear but that, in any event, there would

always be plenty of Europeans in the country.

But my demands would go still further. I hold that not only should the

sale of brandy be prohibited, but also the sale of coffee, tobacco,

and the other indubitably noxious, or at any rate valueless, products

which we have introduced among the natives. It is certain that they

had no desire for them; on the contrary, it took us a long time to

make them acquire the taste for them. The East Greenlanders to this

day do not like coffee. On the west coast, as before stated, we have

been unhappily successful in begetting this taste, and coffee has

contributed not a little to the decline of the race. But if the sale

of coffee to the natives were forbidden, its importation for the use

of Europeans should, of course, be forbidden as well. Many will call

this fanaticism, but I cannot help it. My opinion is that if it be

indeed for the sake of the natives that we have come to their country

and undertaken to live there and teach them, we must prove this by our

conduct, we must fulfil consistently the duties imposed upon us by such

a responsible and difficult mission, and we must submit to the small

deprivations it may involve. Such a work of self-sacrifice cannot be

carried on without deprivations. The Apostles of the Lord have always

regarded suffering as an essential part of their calling, and if we

cannot endure it we are neither fitted for, nor worthy of, such a

task, and ought to refrain from it altogether. If, on the other hand,

we have come to Greenland not for the natives' sake but for our own,

that is quite a different matter; but in that case let us call things

by their right names, and not use big words such as civilisation and

Christianity.

In order to remedy the state of lawlessness which arose from the

disuse of the old customs through the influence of the missionaries,

and from the fact that the meanest European felt himself entitled to

look down upon and domineer over the natives, the enthusiastic energy

of Dr. Kink has succeeded in introducing the so-called local councils

(_forstanderskaber_), which consist partly of native members, chosen

by the different villages or small districts. The intention was that

in these councils all the internal affairs of the community should

be regulated, the poor-rate should be determined, and, in general,

law and order should be maintained. As the Greenlanders, however,

did not themselves understand these matters, the pastor in every

district was to act as chairman of the council, and the other European

residents were to be members of it, and to advise and guide the native

councillors. It now appears that the Europeans have gradually got

into their hands the whole real authority, and that the others simply

obey their wishes. It was a fine idea, and worthy of all recognition,

that the natives should acquire the habit of self-government, and

Dr. Rink's innovation marks a turning-point for the better in the

history of the Greenlander. It suffers, however, from the disadvantage

inseparable from all measures which the Europeans can devise for the

benefit of the natives--to wit, that it has not arisen from among the

people themselves who are to profit by it. The introduction of new

social customs is nowhere to be effected in a moment; changes cannot

be brought about by a single act of will, but must be the result of a

long process of development in the people themselves. An institution

imposed from without by foreigners must at least need a very long time

to take root in the national life. Many Greenlanders now regard it as

a distinction to serve as a councillor; but I have also known others,

and these the most capable among them, who do not appreciate the

honour, holding it of more importance to look to their hunting and to

the support of their families than to travel long distances in order

to attend meetings where, after all, with their exaggerated deference

towards the Europeans, they can do nothing but follow their lead and

agree to what measures they propose.

From what I have just said, and from many other passages in this book,

the reader may perhaps be inclined to conclude that the Greenlanders

are a people of no natural independence, and born for subjection.

This, however, is quite a mistake. On the contrary, the Greenlander's

love of freedom and independence has always been very marked. When the

Europeans first came to the country, the natives held themselves at

least their equals, and the idea of standing in a menial or subordinate

position to another man, as they saw the Europeans do among themselves,

seemed to them strange and degrading. It is true that the father of a

family exercises a certain authority in his own household, and perhaps

over all the families who live in the same house; but this authority is

so mild and unobtrusive that it is scarcely felt. They have servants,

too, in so far that women who have no parents or other relatives to

provide for them are often received into the house of a hunter, to

assist the mother, daughters, and daughters-in-law in the household

work; but they stand on a footing of equality with them, and are thus

servants in name rather than in reality. Male servants are entirely

unknown. Consequently they could with difficulty reconcile themselves

to the idea of going into service; and they still dislike above

everything to be ordered about in a domineering fashion, even if their

extreme peaceableness of disposition prevents them from protesting

openly.

This love of freedom rendered it difficult at first for the Europeans

to procure native servants. Gradually, however, European influence has

demoralised the natives in this respect as well, so that even hunters

now enter the service of the Company and sometimes feel a certain pride

in so doing; for, among other things, they thus, as Danish 'officials,'

are entitled to their snapsemik (dram) every morning.

Danish ladies can still bear witness to the fact that it is not so easy

to avoid giving offence to the pride of their Greenland maid-servants.

They are active and agreeable so long as they are well treated;

but if a hard word is addressed to them, they will often disappear

without ceremony and not come back again. If then the mistress is not

prepared to eat the leek and beg pardon, she must look out for another

handmaiden.

If the Greenlander sometimes impresses one as being of a servile

disposition, I think the effect is due to his astounding patience and

power of taking everything, even to the most open injustice, with

imperturbable calmness. It must be this patience which Egede describes

as 'the Greenlanders' inborn stupidity and cold-bloodedness, their lazy

and brutish upbringing,' and so forth. I believe it is the hardship of

their life that has taught them this apparently phlegmatic calmness.

The very uncertainty of their hunting, for instance, often puts their

patience to the severest tests; as, for example, when they strike a

run of ill luck, and come home day after day with no booty to their

hungry families. Egede least of all had any right to complain of this

characteristic; since but for it, and their extreme peaceableness of

disposition, they would certainly not have put up so amiably with

the often violent proceedings of the first Europeans. I had many an

opportunity of admiring their stoical patience--when, for example,

I would see them in the morning standing by the hour in the passage

of the Colonial Manager's house, or waiting in the snow outside his

door, to speak to him or his assistant, who happened to be otherwise

engaged. They had probably some little business to transact with them

before starting for their homes, often many miles from the colony, and

it might be of the greatest importance to them to get away as soon as

possible in order to reach their destination betimes. If the weather

happened to look threatening, every minute would be more than precious;

but there they would stand waiting, as immovable as ever, and to all

appearance as indifferent. If I asked them if they were going to make

a start, they only answered, 'I don't know,' 'Perhaps, if the weather

doesn't get worse,' or something to that effect; but I never once heard

the smallest murmur of impatience.

The following occurrence, for which my informant vouches, affords an

excellent illustration of this side of their character. An inspector at

Godthaab once sent a woman-boat with its crew into the Ameralik fiord

to mow grass for his goats. They remained a long time away, and no one

could understand what had become of them. At last they returned; and

when the inspector asked why they had been so long, they answered that

when they got to the place the grass was too short, so that they had to

settle down and wait until it grew.

With just the same patience do the Greenlanders await the ripening of

their own ruin. They are a patient people.

Footnotes.

[174: P. Egede, _Efterretninger om Grönland_, p. 21; compare also p.

25.]

Eskimo Life · 第 16 / 18 章