The Inupiat Eskimo Defensive Scheme

The Inupiat Eskimo Defense System Against Anxiety -- by Gil Prost

During the first half of the 19th century, before American whalers, merchants, and missionaries began to visit the area in large numbers, there existed, scattered throughout the Northwest territory or Alaska, approximately 21,000 Inupiat Eskimo. Living in small isolated villages or bands one’s survival depended on family members, their spouses, and children who lived close at hand for support when needed.

Unlike other tribes anxious about their existence, they refused to abandon logic and merge mutually exclusive status positions in order to compel collateral kins to act like fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and sons and daughters. They chose to created a very different kind of a system, one that would provide protection whenever they entered a neighbor's hunting territory.

To travel outside of one’s ascribed hunting territory represented by the various territorial shapes illustrated above was like entering enemy’s territory, even though one spoke the same language and shared the same customs, institutions, and history. In order to survive in this harsh climate meant "no one was ever voluntarily in a situation where no relative was present."

Anthropologist Ernest Burch points out that this emphasis on kinship becomes apparent when one examines the makeup of a typical hunting team which existed up to around 1848.

The above diagram shows the traditional hunting team was composed of real kin, In this case, consisting of a father, his three sons, the husband of a daughter and her brother-in-law, and the sons of two sisters-in-law. In contrast to the tribes of the Great Plains, what is missing from such traditional hunting parties were fictive or classificatory "sons" and "daughters." It was a life-way in which a web-of-kinship grounded in the merging of collateral and lineal status positions did not exist.

According to Burch,

"The life of a Northwest Alaskan Eskimo, isolated, for whatever reason, from his kin was always nasty and brutish, and often it was short. ...The man with kin was one who could be held effectively responsible for his actions in an institutionalized way. The man without kin was not such a person; he was a social freak toward whom that other members of society had no acceptable way' of behaving."

To travel outside of one’s familial territorial sphere was like entering enemy territory, even though one shared the same language, culture, and history. Such behavior would be classified by the Chácobo as "strange." There existed no such "social freaks" among the Chácobo.

The primary feature of all these 20 scattered bands sharing a common interest was the practice of endogamy, that is, they didn’t marry outside of their small territorial group of 200 to 900 individuals in which they were raised. Exclusive hunting rights to an ascribed territory promoted this marriage practice.

In most societies, however, marriage to someone that is a close member of one's social group does not occur. But since it was dangerous to travel about one's neighbor's territory without real kin living there, then one tended to marry someone who lived within one's own territory.

Therefore, as Burch points out, “Unless one could identify oneself—which for the Eskimo meant proving one was related to people known by his inquisitors—he was usually beaten to death in short." Killing one’s non-kin neighbor, even though he or she lived in the adjacent territory, spoke the same language, and shared the same rules of culture, simply meant there would be more food for one’s family and kin. SOCIAL EXISTENCE in an environment were food was seasonally scarce shaped a life-way devoid of grace and forgiveness.

Burch describes the seasonal availability of food as follows:

"Inter-territorial hostilities closely followed the seasonal round of subsistence activities. By common agreement, from late spring through the fall, a truce was observed. This coincided with the period of greatest productivity and most extensive inter-territorial trading. Then, in late fall when darkness began setting in, hostilities commenced. Any stranger observed in a given territory at this time was assumed to be either a spy or a member of an opposing group of warriors unless proven otherwise. Exceptions included journeys to or from a Messenger Feast, a ceremonial gathering or local families from different localities whose leaders were either trading partners or linked by co-marriage…. Strangers who could not provide such justification, were beaten or killed."

Clearly, a person without multiple spouses, sons, and daughter was considered to be, according to Burch,

"a social freak toward whom the other members of society had no acceptable way of behaving. ...The classic case being that of a seal hunter who accidentally went adrift on the sea as a result of wind and current action. If conditions were unfavorable, he might drift for days, weeks, or even months before getting back to shore again, if he did at all, and his landfall might be tens or hundreds of miles from his home. If he landed near a village (as often happened, since drifting ice frequently runs aground near points where larger villages were located), and if he were observed by one of its inhabitants, he was in trouble. ...Unless he could identify himself --which to the Eskimo meant proving he was [biologically] related to people known by the inquisitors --he was probably beaten to death in short order.”

His crime? The potential stealing of their seals. The solution? Every hunter had to increase the size of the social world in which one could safely operated. This meant one needed a larger network of "family" members. Being a member of the same tribe speaking the same language was not enough. Trusting one's neighbor was a dangerous thing to do. One could only trust lineal and collateral kin as illustrated in the kind of members that made up a hunting crew.

Since “kinship is the idiom in which political interests are advanced and economic goals are maximized,” then who would help if one happen to travel outside one's safe space where there were no fictive or classificatory 'brothers,' and 'sisters,' and 'sons' and 'daughters' on whom one could count on for shelter, food, and assistance when needed? Their lack of real kin spread out over several familial territories meant one was severely restricted as to how far one could travel from home.

Unlike the Kiowa-Apache who lived on the Great Plains, the Inupiat Eskimos chose not to increase the size of the "family" by merging cousins with siblings, nephews and nieces with sons and daughters, and aunts with mother, and uncles with father. But by refusing to merge mutually exclusive status positions, the Inupiat Eskinos actually had preserved, at least on the surface, what some social scientists refer to as a "Biblical Kinship System."

In practical terms, this means, according to sociologist Bernard Faber, “the Biblical kinship system facilitates participation in formal organizations, including the schools, business offices, and voluntary associations which are prevalent in our modern society” as well as “tying together rules governing conduct in the family, industry, and commerce, political activity, and general community interaction into a coherent whole.”

Outwardly, the above Eskimo kinship system appears to represent the Biblical Kinship system. But there was a problem. If a Biblical kinship systems actually "facilitates general community interaction," which I strongly believe it does, then why did it not facilitate positive community interaction between neighbors who spoke the same language and shared the same culture and history? For years I wondered what went wrong? Eventually, anthropologist Earnest Burch provided me some answers.

First, what went wrong was, at some point in their history, the Inupiat Eskimo had reconfigured the internal structure of the nuclear family. Unfortunately, the internal restructuring of the family failed to show up in the kinship chart. Submitting to infrastructural pressures of living in the harsh climate of Northwest Alaska, they rejected the "one flesh" principle of husband-wife and replaced it with the "one flesh" principle of parent-child. At some point in history they chose to "go their own way" (Acts 14:16).

According to anthropologist Ernest Burch,

"The parent-child relationships were the strongest bonds that existed in traditional Northwest Alaska. ...the parent-child relationships were still preeminent within the kinship in 1970." "At the conceptual level, the weakness of the husband-wife tie reflected the general Eskimo view that all relatives by descendent took precedence over all relatives by marriage, including spouses. The concrete illustration of this principle was the blood feud, in which a person ideally was expected to support any consanguineal relative against a spouse if the need arose."

Not only did their reconfiguration of the internal structure of the nuclear family manifest a spiritual divergence from the Creation Order stated in Genesis 2:24, this spiritual divergence was also manifested externally in their sleeping and living arrangements. Like the Chácobo, the Inupiat also had men's houses.

Except when husband and wife came together for activities specifically directed to economic, social, and sexual matters, they did not see very much of each other. The wife stayed at home or with her relatives; the husband spent his time hunting, visiting male relatives, or staying in the men's house. In the words of Robert Spencer,

"A man who stayed in the men's house remained there for days on end. Their wives cooked food and brought it over to the men's house in pans and trenchers to feed their husbands. ...The man came home at the end of the day to sleep."

Since restructuring the nuclear family failed to provide the security they all longed for, and since trusting one's neighbor was a dangerous thing to do, their only recourse was to trust one's descent group along with collateral kin as illustrated in the kind of members that made up a hunting crew.

But to solve the problem of being severely restricted in their movements, they needed to come up with a cultural form that would satisfy this need without relaying on the merging of mutually exclusive status positions. The new form they created was called italiuqtuq, 'to make a relative.' In traditional times this term meant, 'to make (someone) a relative through a voluntary act,' just as one makes a house, or makes an item of clothing."

Since territorial rights were owned by "family member," their solution to the problem was to

“make someone a relative through a voluntary act, in the same way one makes a house, or makes an item of clothing. Through the act, a man and woman become spouses, and any children either of them ever had before or after, become siblings. ...sexual intercourse was the only way that kinship could be extended.”

The only way one could acquire rights to move around one's neighbor's territory was to "make a relative." "It was systematically employed to reduce danger from outside one's own district."

Through sexual intercourse with a friend's wife from another territory, the Inupiat Eskimos created a biological linkage between hostile communities.

Its function was to increase one’s chances for survival in a dangerous world where food could be scarce and non-kin could not be trusted. The goal in life was to survive. And to survive one needed a real wife and real sons and daughters and sons-in-law and daughters-in-law.

Unlike nearly every other society on earth, the Inupiat Eskimo chose not to increase the size of their "family" by classifying cousins as "brothers" and "sisters," uncles and aunts as "fathers" and "mothers," and nephews and nieces as "sons, and "daughters." They clearly understood the law of non-contradiction and refused to merge cousins with siblings, uncles and aunts with fathers and mothers, and nephews and nieces with sons and daughters. For the Inupiat, the concepts were mutually exclusive and were not merged.

Semantically, this means they refused to detach from universal forms held common to all their inherent meaning-content which informed them what the qualities of being a father, mother, wife, son, daughter, and brother and sister were. Such behavior was unusual.

So instead of expanding the size of their “family” by classifying collateral relatives as sons, daughters, and brothers and sisters as tribes living on the Great Plains did, they chose to “make someone a relative." "Sexual intercourse was the only way that kinship could be extended.”

Regardless of what missionaries and governmental officials thought, such sexual activity was not generated by lust. As anthropologist Ernest Burch points out: “In the chaotic circumstances of the time, this was not promiscuity, but a rational means for dealing with a difficult situation.” By an intimate act they were “creating” real sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers, and uncles, and aunts whose moral duty was to aid each other in time of trouble.

Like so much of the tribal world, kinship was still the stuff from which the Inupiat Eskimo constructed a socio-economic designed to relieve their existential anxieties as to who could help them if caught entering their neighbor's hunting grounds. They simply "made a relative" a practice they called ilaliuqtuq ". Instead of using the classificatory method to increase the size of their "family," they chose to "make a relative" by the mutual exchange of spouses living in different familial territories.

Convictions:

While it is recognized that the nuclear family is universal, what is rejected by every materialist is the fact that there exists a Divine internal structure to the family that can be violated.
If the internal structure of the nuclear family "remains pure, man’s culture has promise; but if it becomes polluted, all the rest will turn to dust and ashes." The Inupiat had violated that structure.
Etic divergence occurred when the Inupiat reconfigured the nuclear family and replaced the husband-wife dyad with that of parent-child.
Such behavior infringes on the "internal law of marriage."