In his article Turtle Island First Foods Devon C. Peña writes of the “living autonomy” he witnessed while taking part in a Skokomish First Foods Ceremony:

“Ceremony is the daily lived practice of the Skokomish people as enduring constituents of their own power in the exercise of their sovereignty. First Foods are the constitutive force that nurtures this sovereignty because the sacred six are rooted in deep histories of cultural practices that are much, much older than any European barley fields. They directly connect people to the ecological sources of right livelihoods” (Peña, 2010).

Contemporary commercial globalization–the kind celebrated by banks, pharmaceutical corporations, Walmart and mining and petroleum corporations–has resulted in an unforseen backlash in the Fourth World.  Hoping to scoop up hundreds of millions of indigenous peoples as new consumers of manufactured foods, electricity, artificial chemical compounds in the form of insecticides, fertilizers, seeds, farm equipment, detergents, and pharmaceuticals globalized corporations and their supporters in states’ governments bending to the World Trade Organization advertize and push relentlessly into small communities the world over.  Promoting themselves and advocates of sustainable development, the modern-day globalizers are eagerly seeking out more and more people whom they hope will become dependent on their manufactured goods.

This is dangerous and extremely short-sighted for the present and long-term health and life of humanity–indeed, Fourth World peoples.

The modern-day globalizers pressing their “sustainable development” agenda pre-suppose the artificially manufactured seeds insinuated into countries and their small farmers through trade agreements, for example, are widely known to be less nutritious, more expensive and the basis for forced dependence.  Farmers and subsistence food producers the world over are pulling back from the so-called “civilized” grains, seeds and other foods introduced into indigenous communities by corporations and state sponsored trade agreements.  Small farmers and susbsistence farmers are realizing that dependence on these corporations and using their products not only create a dependence, but the products are expensive and undermine the diversity of native foods.

On every continent, Fourth World peoples are pulling back and reclaiming their native foods, their cultural practices and their own sciences to explain and solve problems.  Fourth World peoples are reinventing their own systems that permit them to solve the challenges they face and continue to promote life. The trend is growing world wide.

Mexican government officials have tilted heavily in favor of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA)with the United States and Canada.  Small farmers and subsistence farmers have seen the subsidies once flowing from the government collapse forcing them to compete with industrial farms that mainly export produce.  Small farmers and subsistence farmers must feed themselves and their family.  Their best approach to the heavy demands of cost and technical requirements imposed by NAFTA is to retreat into a system of agriculture that has provided the best foods and high nutrition for more than three thousand years.  They are reclaiming the milpa and they are trading seeds among themselves.  They are producing nutrient rich foods in substantially larger quantities per hectare than the industrial farmers even though they produce small quantities–sufficient for their family and neighbors.

The pattern of stepping back from globalized dependence is perhaps the most important consequence of World Trade Agreements.  The people who once produced the world’s food are reclaiming their role as the true food producers that ensure the continuity of life.

It is more apparent now than it has been for several years that the climate negotiations have failed to formalize any kind of agreement or consensus  on reversing CO2 and GHG emissions by the main emitters in the world.  It is also clear that more people are coming to the understanding that the climate change tipping point was already met years ago and we are now in a global climate change spiral demanding close attention to human adapation and the local context for adaptation.

I have repeatedly noted in these columns that indigenous peoples have a great deal to offer themselves and to humanity on matters of adaptation.  I have also called for a recognition of the need to formalize a “bottom up” negotiation approach  choreographed by UN agencies and Indigenous Nations organizations. Our attention must now turn to securing the land and water ways necessary for life and ensure food security strategies to support life…adaptation must be our focus.

The Time has arrived for all parties to recognize that new strategies are necessary to meet the reality of an increasingly raging and changing climate already damaging lives, property and ways of life. Durban has now passed…meetings will be held and discussions will continue, but new energy must be put on the level of localities–microclimates where indigenous peoples are located.  Differences between microclimates demand our attention and adaptation strategies demand our attention.

I had accepted the six-month assignment with the Center for World Indigenous Studies as part of my graduate work in sustainable development. The ominous clouds looming ahead seemed symbolic—of what, exactly, I did not quite know. While hurricane Jova ended up sparing the community from severe structural damage, it wreaked havoc on a series of towns south along the coast.

Mexico has suffered increasingly intense drought, four major hurricanes, and devastating floods which have led to soil degradation and destroyed crops, infrastructure, and human settlements. Indigenous communities, and the bio-culturally diverse regions they represent, are vulnerable to the recognizably changing climate. I have begun to learn that rural communities in western Mexico have the capacity and desire to adapt to the changes using knowledge learned from earlier generations of farmers and residents. This knowledge is a key point of debate in Durban, South Africa where climate change treaty negotiations started on November 28th. Given what I have experienced on the ground in western Mexico, it is critical for those in the midst of the United Nations Forum on Climate Change (UNFCC) and other “leading experts” to look at how ready and willing THEY are to adapt to inevitable climatic changes and related food insecurities.

Part of my work focuses on the local use and production of climate sensitive plants while engaging in long distance colloquies over the incorporation of language in the climate change treaty negotiations supportive of indigenous peoples. The question of how ready and willing self-described “developed” nations are to adapt to climate change is not intended as a direct plea for their higher levels of social and environmental accountability (although I do believe such governments and the corporations who fund them should be held accountable). Rather, it stems from a long overdue acknowledgement that the 5,000+ indigenous communities worldwide, who hold 80% of the world’s remaining biodiversity within their lands, have proven to be incredibly resourceful in adapting to historical climatic changes in their respective eco-niches through a consistent and symbiotic relationship with Mother Earth. Instead of spending time not agreeing to global mitigation plans, government decision-makers representing the monetarily prosperous sectors of nations should be asking for guidance from indigenous communities as they consider their own layers of vulnerability: concrete food deserts, oil-dependent infrastructures, and an incessant need to consume well beyond human and environmental means. As the climatic shi(f)t hits the fan, will they have not only the hands-on skills to make adaptive responses but also the collective ability to creatively and more responsibly reconfigure their societies?

In a recent visit with members of the indigenous municipality of Cabo Corriente, Jalisco, I met a subsistence farmer named Bety. Dr. Rudolph Ryser, the leader of this research effort sent me to Bety’s community to ask about the food availability and distribution patterns of certain nutritionally-dense foods. What I had read about the security of such communities and what I found were two different things. In current economic and agricultural discourse subsistence societies are primarily described as those who do not produce a surplus; they produce only the minimal amount of food or goods that are necessary for their basic survival. Based on this definition, one might envision—as is often depicted on the front cover of UN and NGO briefing reports—families on the brink of starvation, eager to acquire the technological and financial transfers necessary to upgrade their production capacity.

This was not the scenario I encountered as I talked with Bety and observed what actually transacted on her farm. Set amongst a backdrop of lush hillsides, Bety, her parents, and about thirty other residents have been subsistence farming for generations. Maize, heirloom tomatoes and squash, maguey, hibiscus, sugar cane, beans, plantains, avocados, chickens, pigs and cows are just a handful of food sources that Bety proudly showed me as we toured their small, incredibly-efficient parcel of land. Subsistence clearly produced considerable abundance and variety. “Why would I want to work in an factory or an office all day when I can work out here; move my body and breathe fresh air?” she asked. “The land wants to provide–if you are willing to put in the time and love–she is more than willing to produce”.

Nearing sunset, Bety and her family literally kicked up their heels, relaxed in hammocks, and invited us to partake in home-fermented raicilla—a regional, moonshine version of Tequila. It was apparent that subsistence communities celebrate happy hour as well.

Life-Supporting Societies
While I recognize that the degree to which different subsistence communities around the world can or cannot fully provide for their own needs varies tremendously, especially given uneven climate change effects, I think it is important to highlight a positive, yet often-neglected view of subsistence living. In her seminal work entitled Subsistence Perspective, Maria Mies presents a vision for an alternative ecological model for societies. It is not an economic model; rather, it is a way of looking at the economy—a perspective. She describes it as subsistence perspective because it focuses on the creation, recreation and support of life and it has no other purpose than this. It is life that stands at the center of this vision, rather than money, economic growth or profit.

Prior to my visit with Bety, I might have read Maria Mies revised definition of subsistence, and quietly tucked it away as a cozy, past-oriented notion that is no longer plausible within today’s fast-paced, growth-oriented ideology. Yet when I make my daily trek to the neighborhood Mercado, an open-air market teeming with color, variety, and intricate layers of human interaction, I recognize the numerous ways in which Mexico continues to boast tremendous life-supporting cultural infrastructure.

Indigenous communities, which comprise most of Mexico’s population, have cultivated these life-supporting systems for millennia. Their role in local, regional and international discussions on climate change and food security is vital, not only because of the vulnerabilities their own communities face, but because of the critical knowledge–the science– they have developed as a result of successful historical adaptations.

In an apparent effort to avoid accounability under the commitments made as a signator to the Kyoto Protocols, the government of Canada is sending signals at the Durban, South Africa session of the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change that will now consider withdrawing from that agreement.  Since Canada committed itself to substantial reductions in CO2 and green house gas emissions by 2012 and has actually failed to do any reductions, but has increased emissions by 6% it appears that Canada is attempting to avoid accountability when it must report whether it met the reduction committments.  Many small states, developing countries, non-governmental organizations and indigenous peoples are bemoaning the prospect that Canada’s decision to pull out could cause the collapse of all efforts to negotiate a global agreement.

It is clear that the current negotiations ignore the fact that climate changes have already been occurring world-wide and it is likely that any final agreements under a treaty will only slow CO2 and greenhouse gas emissions. Climate changes are already moving swiftly and indigenous peoples in their vulnerabilities have been reacting to these changes with adaptations (some successfully) out of necessity. I suggest the following (originally sent to the indigenous peoples’ coordinating adhoc body at the Durban talks:

“We are of the mind that most GHG and CO2 producing countries remain uninterested in caps and restraints.  Indigenous peoples have to create several strategies for addressing this reluctance that may include ongoing efforts to participate in the climate talks, addressing Kyoto and a range of other state-sponsored discussions. Some strategies have to consider the fact that climate changes are already well underway and indigenous peoples’ vulnerabilities must be addressed. Indigenous peoples must now consider what can be done collectively and individually given the inability of states’ governments to move forward in deliberate and focused ways, while climate changes sweep over indigenous peoples’ territories.”

We are obliged to move swiftly now since 40 years ago it was apparent that climate changes would be innundating indigenous peoples in many parts of the world through drought, floods, hurricanes, heavy snows, etc. The states may not survive (many are already in collapse). Many indigenous peoples have the tools and capacity already to make the necessary adaptations.  They are often constrained by commercial and state interests taking over indigenous territories.  Those are human created obstacles we have yet to overcome.  For now…there is considerable evidence that the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change talks have the quality of a Ghost Dance that could produce important outcomes, but for now they are whistling in the wind as the storm continues to take its toll.

A nearly nutritionally complete food, quinoa exists as a product of the intimate relationship between Aymara, Quechua and other indigenous peoples in the Andean region and the mountainous lands more than five thousand years before the present.  This tiny seed has been a central part of the diet of indigenous peoples in the Andean region used as a grain in baking, pourage, and soups.

Mexico also originated and domesticated Huazontli, a relative of Quinoa.  Though there is only a slight genetic and morphological similarity between Huazontli and Quinoa, they are different plants, according to botantical researchers.  Huazontli was appears to have become a major food source for peoples in Mexico about 5000 years before the present.  It’s historical uses were mainly as a green vegetable as it is today.  Like its sister in the Andean region, huazontli is richly nutritious with protein (amino acids) Vitamin A, riboflavin, Vitamin C and a compliment of nutrients including calcium, phosophorus, magnesium, potassium, iron, copper, manganese and zinc in greater amounts normally available in maize, oats, barley, wheat and rice.

Another version of Huazontli and Quinoa has been discovered to have been domesticated in North America’s Atlantic region (Eastern woodlands) about 1600 years before the present.

Yet, another important food, Chia, is cultivated by indigenous peoples and known to provide nearly complete nutritional support including essential fatty acids (Omega 3 and Omega 6).  While Chia is not a Chenopodium, but rather a sage mint (Salvia Hespanica) the abundant seed provide all of the essential amino acids, essential fatty acids, vitamins and minerals.

These three plants are today a powerful source of nutrition that remain dependent on human intervention for their continuing adaptation to changing environmental and climatic conditions. Indigenous peoples are essential to the continuing availability of Chia, Hauzontli and Quinoa, and their continued cultivation of these important foods.

Quinoa, Hauzontli and Chia are among the oldest known cultivated foods in the hemisphere–preceding maize, beans, squash. They were plentifully cultivated by the ancestors of present day indigenous peoples, but forcibly replaced with wheat, oats and rye (less nutritious grains) when Spain colonized the land.  The restoration of Quinoa, Hauzontli and Chia as foods central to the indigenous diet is critical their health and well being.  The restored relationship between indigenous people and these three plants will ensure natural food security–a value that cannot be replaced by industrialized food production.