Cannibal: Part Three

RACHEL ATTITUQ QITSUALIK

While Inuit displayed in their tales a traditional dread of Indians, the Algonkian and Athapaskan peoples were all too eager to return the favour, filling their own folklore with stories of the loathesome northern cannibals, the Eskimantsik, or “Eaters of Raw Meat” (from which comes the word “Eskimo”).

The Algonkian-speaking and Athapaskan-speaking Indians occupied a great deal of sub-Arctic land in Canada, in the form of similar yet distinct nations that ranged all along the treeline. Depending upon their respective areas, Inuit had to contend with a great number of tribes, fighting a sort of “cold” war with elusive, and therefore grossly misunderstood, treeline peoples.

Even at a glance, one can appreciate the vast potential for cross-cultural misunderstanding. From southeast to northwest, the Inuit clashed with Naskapi and Montagnais (both known today as Innu), west main Cree, western woods Cree, and Athapaskan peoples such as the Chipewyan, Yellowknife, Hare, Kutchin, Koyukon, and Holikachuk.

The problem is that the taiga has always acted as a sort of fence, keeping either super-culture from fully knowing each other. The treeline is the dividing line between two distinct worlds.

On the northern side were Inuit, whose technology had already been so superbly adapted to the Arctic environment that Inuit were fearful to leave it for the “cannibal” Iqiliit-infested woodlands.

On the southern side were the Algonkian and Athapaskan nations, whose lifestyles were perfectly suited to their sub-arctic forest lands, and who feared straying too far north, away from the cover of the pines, and into the clutches of the man-eating Eskimantsik.

The Algonkian folklore was brimming with exceptionally ancient legions of woodland cannibal ghosts and monsters, the most famous of which was the dreaded “Wendigo,” a man who had transformed himself into a monster by eating human flesh, and who was doomed to forever stalk the woods and northern “wastes” in a mad search for raw, human flesh.

Already armed with such beliefs, it was not difficult for the northernmost treeline Algonkians to identify the Wendigo with Inuit, for the Inuit tendency to eat uncooked meat was vastly monstrous to them (few of the Algonkians ate quaq.)

Unfortunately, the treeline only served to keep the super-cultures just far enough apart that there could be little understanding between them. Each super-culture could only observe the other from afar, generally consumed with ignorant fear.

With the only contact consisting of occasional encounters (wherein neither party understood the other’s language or customs), often in the form of raids or skirmishes occurring over millenia, is it any wonder that lurid rumours developed on both sides?

Nor is it any wonder that the most common accusations were those of cannibalism, for human beings naturally have a tendency to dwell upon, to study and examine, their worst fears — evoking maximum terror in their effort to imagine “just how bad it gets”. And the key tool in such primal psychotherapy is the alienation of others, the need to define oneself as opposed to the “monsters.”

Yet a monster is a difficult thing to concretize, for the truly inhuman monsters of nature are only, in the end, mere animals: the bear, the shark, the venomous serpent. These animals may possess fearsome or deadly traits, but they generally avoid humanity, and are easily dealt with.

Therefore, man turns to himself, looking at his own kind for those who might play the monsters. And it just so happens that cannibals fit the bill exactly. The unspoken assumption is that, unlike beasts and birds, cannibals have made a conscious choice in their diet. They are the perfect monsters, for they masquerade as humans, having human traits and talents, while perversely eating their own. They live among their food.

But make no mistake: I’m not saying that cannibal legends are entirely the result of cross-cultural fear. Are the claims of Indians and Inuit completely false? Are there true cases of cannibalism among either super-culture?

Based upon the evidence available, the answer might appear to be … yes.

In fact, there are many documented accounts of cannibalism occurring among Indians and Inuit, but not necessarily each toward the other. Where cannibalism does occur, each super-culture, it seems, tends to “keep it in the family”. But you’ll see exactly what I mean next week.

Pijariiqpunga (for Part Three).