Learning from the Streets

Imagine if you will the distant tropical island, remote, isolated, some might say disengaging with society, think of its green trees, natural resources, and the civilisation that has lived there for centuries. The civilisation that does what it does already to survive, labours in the land, uses resources for shelter and warmth, and knows how to maintain the island, because by doing so knows that they survive on an island which thrives.

Imagine the cultures, the festivals, the rhythms of the island. The patterns of life per day, per week, per month. The way it orders itself around the weather, the moon and the seasons, should it have them.

It might not feel like paradise to you as you read this on a screen, with technology, but normal life for that island habitant is likely to feel a kind of authenticity and paradise.

It would be easy to describe what it might be like for this perfect idyllic nation to be destroyed by invaders and have narratives about that invasion become pervasive to the point of nationalism and narcissism. But that story is too well known, and is too explicit for this Island.

What if instead an invasion doesnt happen, but that the island is passively used instead?

On a corner of its land, is a beach, a harbour, where boats leave to catch fish, and that harbour is mid way between two warring nations, and so, one nation uses that harbour as a stop off.

The boats from one of these nations land. Its aeroplanes drop cargo from a newly laid runway.

Its Soldiers and crew become familiar in the place.

The natives wonder what all the equipment is, it was nothing they have ever seen.

They wonder where all the food arrives from that seems to come for free

The natives even wonder if these people in uniform had a religious or sacred affinity, given that their goods arrived with little or no work attached to it.

The Soldiers were respectful and shared their goods to the natives, in abundance at times, food, clothing, tools, materials

Until that is

When the war between the nations ended.

The troops went home. In Jubilant celebration, returning as war heroes to their land. And took all their equipment back.

Leaving the Island paradise bereft of its new found resources.

What might the Island community then do?

To invoke the Gods that they attributed who gave these goods, via the troops, they initiated the same religious sacred militaristic rituals, with devastating effect. The Island Paradise was lost forever.

I wonder.

Who are the Island community, and who do they represent?

Who are the troops? and what is the effect?

In his book ‘Rekindling Democracy’ Cormac Russell writes:

When we reflect on the language that is often used around communities in the face of austerity, they are not too dissimilar to that raised by the story of the US troops and the inhabitants of Tanna Island.

It is not uncommon to hear such partisan and bigoted statements against economically marginalised people such as:

1. They have learned an unhealthy dependence on outside aid, they need to learn to stand on their own two feet and stop looking for handouts

2. They are fundamentally orientated towards materialism and have lost touch with wholesome traditions and values that have helped people get out of poverty for generations

3. Their lack of sophistication and education has caused them to misread the situation and place unrealistic expectations on the benevolence of outsiders – they are now passing this dependency on to their children

4. They are being guided by local leaders who are abusing the situation for their own selfish ends; knowing the cargo will never come, they still use their charismatic leadership style to convince their followers otherwise

5. They are feckless; while they wait for cargo, they could at least engage in constructive activity, they do not proving that they are lazy.

In short it is all their fault

Cormac Russell, Rekindling Democracy (2020)

Cormac wonders whether we have all been subjects of a ‘Cargo Cult’ at some point in our lives, and the extent to which in western materialistic society the marches of materialism are the same as what are seen in shopping centres. What I would add, is the level of projection that the statements above often carry too.

Looking at the troops? Were they in the wrong?

Maybe it’s what they saw, and didnt see. They viewed their goods as riches to share, amongst people they thought had none, but didn’t see a community that had riches that weren’t goods. By being not of the industrialist world, the islanders had perfectly survived and more than so. The islanders had organised and had abundance.

The troops saw only deficits in the society and they sought to address this with ‘goods’ from the cargo, and it made them feel good to do so. ‘We have the cargo, you have deficits and ignorance, we can help you’. The Troops mapped the terrain, based on their own prejudgments and values and acted accordingly.

The islanders then saw themselves not as rich and resourceful, but insufficient and in need of more cargo, they lost sight of what they once had. What they turned to was an expectation that another large grey metal ship would save them in the future. They became in need of rescue from the outsider.

But could the islanders have refused the cargo? Could you?

I ask myself, Have I ever been the Soldier arriving with cargo? – what did I see when I first went to a community? Have I fallen into the trap of seeing young people in need of my rescue? What of a community or an estate? Am I in it to bless it with cargo from the outside? What might that do to it? What resources in a community have I not seen?

What do I need to see differently? And…what about you?

What about now, its not the paradise of an island – but 18 months down the line of a pandemic? When food distribution is at an all time high, and universal credit payments about to be reduced again…what has dependency looked like and felt like- and what happens next?

What does the story of the Cargo Cult do for you? Does it prompt? provoke? And why? Do share below

Ill include some of Cormac further reflections in my next piece…