Saqqaq: An Inuit Hunting Community in the Modern World 9781442679573

Table of contents :
Contents
Maps
Preface
Introduction
1. The Community, Its People and History
2. A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga
3. Strategic Fishing, or Fishing by Choice
4. Ecology of Staple Food: Sealing
5. Man and Territory
6. Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour
7. An Inuit Hunting Mode of Production
8. National Policy - Local Setting
9. Community and Nation
References
Index

Citation preview

SAQQAQ: AN INUIT HUNTING COMMUNITY IN THE MODERN WORLD Jens Dahl

In the early eighteenth century, West Greenland became a colonial territory of Denmark. Nevertheless, a large number of Inuit communities maintained significant aspects of their cultural and economic practices. When Home Rule was introduced in 1979, the benign paternalism of colonial days was superseded by the incorporation of ethnic and institutional relations under a unified political system in Greenland. A national Greenlandic Inuit community was created, forcing further cultural adaptation on the part of the Inuit. Jens Dahl analyses life in Saqqaq, a small Greenlandic hunting community, and explores the changes that have taken place there over the last couple of decades. As modern technology is introduced and the world-views of the Greenlandic Inuit change, the hunting community continues to base its life on traditional concepts, including an economy involving sharing, exchanging, and free access to the hunting and fishing grounds. Dahl demonstrates that Saqqaq and other communities have adapted to colonial and post-colonial influences by combining their practices of hunting and fishing with other forms of employment. In the midst of these economic developments, however, hunters are losing control over their traditional lands. Dahl discusses this conflict within the political context, making Saqqaq a unique and valuable example of Inuit survival in the modern world. JENS DAHL is Director of the International Work Group for Indigenous Affairs (IWGIA) in Copenhagen.

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JENS DAHL

Saqqaq: An Inuit Hunting Community in the Modern World

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO PRESS Toronto Buffalo London

www.utppublishing.com © University of Toronto Press Incorporated 2000 Toronto Buffalo London Printed in Canada ISBN 0-8020-4448-4 (cloth) ISBN 0-8020-8237-8 (paper)

© Printed on acid-free paper

Canadian Cataloguing in Publication Data Dahl, Jens Saqqaq : an Inuit hunting community in the modern world Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-8020-4448-4 (bound) ISBN 0-8020-8237-8 (pbk.) 1. Inuit - Greenland - Saqqaq - Hunting. 2. Inuit - Greenland Saqqaq - Fishing. 3. Inuit - Greenland - Saqqaq - Social life and customs. 4. Hunting - Greenland - Saqqaq. I. Title. E99.E7D334 2000

306'.089'97120982

C99-932318-0

University of Toronto Press acknowledges the financial assistance to its publishing program of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council. University of Toronto Press acknowledges the financial support for its publishing activities of the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP).

Canada

Contents

MAPS

vi

PREFACE

Vii

Introduction 3 1 The Community, Its People and History 24 2 A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 66 3 Strategic Fishing, or Fishing by Choice 110 4 Ecology of Staple Food: Sealing 131 5 Man and Territory 157 6 Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 174 7 An Inuit Hunting Mode of Production 208 8 National Policy - Local Setting 230 9 Community and Nation 253

REFERENCES INDEX

271

261

Maps

1 2 3 4

Greenland ix Disko Bay and Vaigat x Saqqaq and surroundings xi Area around Saqqaq used for seal netting, 31 January-10 February 1981 147 5 Area around Saqqaq used for seal netting, March 1981 147 6 Area around Saqqaq used for seal netting, 1980-1 149 7 Primary caribou-hunting territories used by settlements before 1960 162 8 Caribou-hunting territories used by settlements in Uummannaq and Ilulissat municipalities after 1981 165

Preface

The fieldwork on which this book is based took place over many years. Except for one year, I have always been accompanied by my wife, Rie Odgaard, also an anthropologist. We went to Saqqaq in the summer 1980 to gain acceptance of the local authorities for our doing research in this small community. We stayed there for eleven months, from late summer 1980 to late summer the following year. We must have enjoyed the stay, for I left Saqqaq only for two short visits to Ilulissat, the regional centre, and my wife left only for two months in 1981 to take care of other responsibilities. We went back in 1982,1984, and 1988. A visit in 1993 lasted only a few days, but we returned again in the late winter of 1996. My work in Saqqaq in 1980-1, 1988, and 1996 was supported by the Danish Research Councils. This book embodies my reflections on life in a Greenland hunting community; most of the information was shared and discussed with my wife during the stays in Saqqaq and afterwards. However, the conclusions and the book as it now stands are my responsibility alone. While I have continued to work with Greenlandic and Inuit topics, Rie Odgaard has done extensive research in Africa. Throughout, I have tried both to give a diachronic perspective, and to focus on those factors in life that seem not to have changed substantially over the years. In these latter instances the examples are usually taken from our first stay in Saqqaq. All Greenlandic place-names are written with the new orthography except in quotations. Sometimes the old/new place-names are given in brackets. Greenlandic terms are always written in italics, except for place-names, which are only written in italics the first time they appear.

viii

Preface

Danish names are given only when they are commonly used and understood. Whenever personal names are used, they are the names of real persons. Inge Kleivan, Ludger Miiller-Wille, Rie Odgaard, Robert Petersen, Andreas Roepstorff, and Frank Sejersen read and commented upon the manuscript. I was grateful for their comments but the final result is my responsibility alone. Jorge Monras made the maps and figures and Hans Christian Gull0v the drawings of the beluga sharing. Linna MiillerWille and Mary Bille did the English language editing. I owe many thanks to these and all other people whom I have consulted for comments, suggestions, and help. Last but not least, I should like to express a deep-felt gratitude to everybody in Saqqaq, where all doors were opened, where people put a great effort in teaching us the language and introducing us to the culture. Some have moved from the settlement, others are no longer alive. It is impossible to mention one and not another because we have always felt that we were accepted by the community, although naturally we have come closer to some people than to others. I hope that this book will help people from other cultures to understand the conditions of life in a small community in Greenland and thus make the time offered by people in Saqqaq worth their efforts.

Map 1 Greenland

Map 2 Disko Bay and Vaigat

Map 3 Saqqaq and surroundings

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SAQQAQ

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Introduction

An Anthropologist in Saqqaq Every time I approach Saqqaq, by boat or by helicopter, a kind of nervousness or anxiety creeps in on me. For weeks or months, this is something that I have looked forward to. I am sure that somewhere inside me a boy's dream about going to the Arctic is fulfilled. But it is more than that. It has become part of my social and academic life, and fortunately I cannot completely separate the two. Once I have arrived and settled, one of the first things the hunters tell me is how bad my Greenlandic language has become. Obviously true, but not completely, because I have never managed the language very well. The next thing is that I look very old. Finally, when I tell them that I will only be staying for a few weeks, they shake their heads in disbelief. How can I consider leaving before this and that event? And suddenly I feel in the middle of it again, even though I have been away for one, two, or four years. From a methodological point of view, most of my data come from observation and from discussions of events I myself have experienced. I have always tried not to rely on data from interviews that refer to past events unless my purpose was to compare factual events with those experienced later or in contrast to the norms. Sometimes I write a letter to a person in Saqqaq. I know that I will never receive an answer. One year I published an article about whaling in Saqqaq in a Danish journal. There were several coloured photos of the hunt and of the important sharing procedure. Since it is not very often that I have an opportunity to give back something of my writings to everyone in the community (and which they have a chance to enjoy),

4 Saqqaq I decided to mail a copy of the journal to every house. Later the same year a visitor from Saqqaq stayed with us in Denmark for a few days. He did not mention that he had received the issue of the journal, and when I finally asked him, he answered, 'Yes, we did receive it, but why did you send it?' I mention this because, since then, when I have been in Saqqaq and discussed whaling with the hunters, they sometimes have returned to this article and to the pictures to underline an argument of theirs. In such cases, photos of events and people from years ago have often helped me to visualize and interpret relationships and changes that have taken place over the years. It was an academic preoccupation that first brought my wife and me to Saqqaq in 1980. Since then, it seems to have been more important just to go than to go to fulfil some specific academic ambition. Now, after so many years, I still have the same scientific curiosity, but it is impossible to account for it without weaving my own participation into the narrative. The chapters of this book all deal with academic issues that can only be dealt with in a meaningful way if I incorporate my own presentation into the narrative, including some of those events that I remember as essential in an anthropological interpretation. In each chapter, the theoretical discussions are entwined with the empirical accounts. They are then gathered together in chapter 7, 'An Inuit Hunting Mode of Production.' Finally, chapters 8 and 9 place Saqqaq in a national Greenlandic context. This book tries to solve an impossible dilemma: to give an analytical description of life in a Greenlandic hunting community, and at the same time to account for and explain changes that have taken place in the same community over seventeen years. I have tried to incorporate the diachronic perspective into the general characteristics of the life situation in a small, modern Greenlandic community without disturbing the evidence of factual events specific to a certain time or period. The basis or point of departure must be our stay in Saqqaq in 1980-1. To that experience is added information compiled from historical archives and newspapers, personal memories, and events that have taken place in the years since. I have tried to delve into the hunting mode of life from the perspective of changing patterns, rather than first describe a situation at a certain date and then account for changes that have taken place since

Introduction 5 then. Instead of giving priority to answering questions like 'How was it in those days?' I have tried to give the presentation a form that clarifies structural essentials even though at first glance they look different today than they did seventeen years ago. This analytical method has revealed that there are developmental trends that might imply severe changes to the logic of the hunting mode of production as accounted for in this book. There are also constants that have existed since 'time immemorial' and that seem 'immutable.' Some of these trends are summarized in the last chapter. This book has its empirical focus on one small community but it deals with a number of themes that relate to community development in general and to development of Greenlandic and Arctic communities specifically. One of these is the notion of 'tradition.' The 'traditional Greenlandic society' was the symbol of identification in the 1970s, when Greenlandic self-government was claimed and legitimized, in opposition to socio-economic development as formulated and directed from Denmark. Nevertheless, while Greenlanders themselves used 'tradition' in defence of the right to self-determination, Greenpeace (and others) used 'tradition' to attack the modern Greenlandic version of sealing and whaling (Caulfield 1997; Hovelsrud-Broda 1997, Wenzel 1991). Connected to this is an understanding of what it means to be indigenous in the modern world. Life in a small community in modern Greenland is different from life anywhere else outside the Arctic, and researchers have often characterized the essentials of this life in terms like 'traditional' (vs. modern), 'aboriginal' (vs. mainstream ), 'subsistence' (vs. commercial), 'local knowledge' (vs. science). In chapter 7 these essentials are explored in terms of 'seven pillars of the hunting mode of production.' Each community has a history, a specific story unique to that community, which sets it apart from others. In Saqqaq, the larger perspective is the process of decolonization and the creation of a new nation, which crystallized after the introduction of Home Rule in 1979. We meet the process of decolonization and nation-building in daily life in the community when, for example, an increase in the world-market prices for Greenland halibut makes the Home Rule government invest in fish processing, or when government intervention in the traditional whale hunting has an impact on the coherence of the community based on territorial hunting rights.

6 Saqqaq Saqqaq - A Community of Hunters Saqqaq is a small hunting community in the northwestern part of central West Greenland. Geographically, it is located in the northern part of Disko Bay, one of the richest marine environments of Greenland. The use of the word 'hunting' in this context is deliberate, although a brief glance at the statistics from recent years reveals that fishing has replaced hunting as the primary cash-generating harvesting activity. This sounds like a contradictory statement - at least if we think in terms of a market-based economy. Less so, however, if we think of hunting as a way of life and as a mode of production rather than a mere subsistence or technical activity. This brings us to the heart of the matter of this book, which is to show how hunting in this small Greenlandic community coexists with or, better, has become part of a modern way of life. Hunting in this Inuit community and in the minds of Greenlanders in general has developed into something very different from being only a specific way of dealing with the environment and the game animals. Hunting is also an ideology that confers meaning to the inhabitants of this small community, who in many respects live on the fringes of the economic and administrative boom of post-colonial Home Rule. Nevertheless, to most people, Greenlanders as well as non-Greenlanders, Saqqaq epitomizes what is usually considered a 'traditional Greenlandic hunting community.' This contradiction is a theme of this book. Saqqaq has often been placed in a category (an imaginary one) separate from most other settlements of the region. The minutes of the district councils (Danish: for slander skaberne; Greenlandic: misissuisut), established in the middle of the nineteenth century (see below), verify that this is not a recent phenomenon. Also, early in this century, the historian/missionary Hother Ostermann wrote that 'Saqqaq thoroughly bears the impression of a prosperous and orderly community - at variance with Qeqertaq and Ujarasussuk' (Ostermann 1921: 230).l Ideologically, Saqqaq is thus often seen by outsiders as a kind of 'model community/ representing what is left of the 'old' or 'real' Greenlandic culture. Parliamentary commissions from Denmark have been shown Saqqaq as an example of a North Greenlandic settlement. In the early 1980s when the queen of Denmark came to the region, she 1 My translation. Unless other translators of Greenlandic and Danish passages are named, the translations into English are mine.

Introduction 7 visited Saqqaq. Except perhaps for the queen, local interest in outsiders does not always match the picture given abroad. However, the people of Saqqaq have to some extent adopted the ideal picture of their own community attributed to it by outsiders. It is usual for people in small settlements to emphasize the uniqueness of their own community, in contrast with other settlements, but in the case of Saqqaq this seems to be more substantial. Still, the ideal picture is most often advanced by non-locals, a theme to be dealt with further. The inhabitants of Saqqaq, the Saqqarmiut, are hunters - because they consider themselves so, owing to their value system and preferences and to the meaning bestowed by the way in which renewable resources are harvested, shared, and distributed. The prerogatives associated with hunting have given more prestige than has fishing, although very successful commercial fishermen can gain similar prestige by being considered skilled hunters. This book deals mainly with the period from 1980 - when my wife and I first visited the community - to 1996. Whereas in 1980 people in Saqqaq paid little attention to fishing, since then the harvesting of Greenland halibut has flourished and become a booming cash crop; local fish processing has created a significant number of salaried jobs. Saqqaq is nevertheless still a hunting community, with strong traditions rooted in history. These traditions give meaning to the people's image of themselves as hunters with strong local roots and as caretakers of the 'old Greenlandic traditions/ including a feeling of being 'real hunters' in the era of Home Rule, when modernization has become reality and development on 'Greenlandic terms and conditions' the ideological flag. Saqqaq is a settlement physically and socially distant, but not isolated from other communities; it has always been part of a larger social and economic system. The Saqqarmiut have developed their own traditions and customs as a community distinct from, but also integrated into the colonial and post-colonial history of Greenland. If we for the moment accept that Saqqaq has many of the qualities that epitomize what is usually considered to represent the 'traditional Greenlandic society/ we should be aware that this notion has been highly influenced by more than two hundred years of colonial rule. Nothing would be more fallacious than to think about Saqqaq - or any other hunting community in Greenland for that matter - as a community that has unbroken links to the pre-colonial Inuit society, and has survived as a traditional community like an island over which modernization has

8 Saqqaq passed leaving Saqqaq only slightly affected. Modernization has never been a threat to Greenlandic hunting communities - it has always been an integrated and indispensable part of the traditional hunting community. As so brilliantly accounted for by Hobsbawm (1983), Ranger (1983), Anderson (1991), and others, use of the concept 'traditional' as something being or representing a cultural past has a number of pitfalls, if it is not directly deceptive. A traditional Greenland does not exist as a contrast to modern Greenland. Modernization is an ever-present process of various form, content, and scope, depending on which historical period is in focus. Even though most people in the towns of West Greenland - and the inhabitants of Saqqaq themselves - consider a community like Saqqaq to be 'a traditional Greenlandic community' or a survival of 'the old Greenland/ we need to realize that we are dealing with a 'modernized tradition' (S0rensen 1994). In this respect, Saqqaq has to a large extent remained a 'traditional' hunting community, not in spite of colonialism and modernization, but exactly because its members have been able to adopt innovations and use them for cultural development. A brief glance at some of the elements often mentioned as denoting old Greenlandic traditions illustrates the point: in Saqqaq everyone speaks Greenlandic; hunting of seal and whale are important harvesting activities; sharing and exchange of hunting products link most members of the community together; on birthdays most households are invited for coffee. These are elements that are considered traditional and that exist or are practised more often in Saqqaq than in the towns. It could also be noted that people in Saqqaq, compared to people living in the towns, adhere more to the use of the traditional flag (the Danish flag) than to the modern flag introduced a few years after the establishment of Home Rule. Only a few years ago, the modernization of primary schools in Greenland stressed, first of all, that Greenlandic was the vernacular and the language to be used in the classroom by all children. But the advent of computer technology, satellite TV transmissions, Internet, and so on has renewed interest in learning Danish and English. Even during the years when Home Rule made a deliberate effort to make the school system more Greenlandic, more and more children were learning and becoming able to manage in Danish. Indeed, it is true that many customs and traditions in small communities are different from those of the busy towns, or have roots farther

Introduction 9 back in history. But they have been formed, modelled, and integrated in the modernization process over several hundred years. This process has been different from urban development, but has been neither an independent nor an alternative development. No factor is considered to epitomize the 'real Greenlandic' more than the ability to read and write Greenlandic. This language was first written down by missionaries, who also developed its orthography. It was the missionaries who made the central West Greenlandic dialect as it was spoken around the first colony Godthab (Nuuk) into the vernacular learned in all the Inuit communities along the coast, so that it gradually became the vernacular of the Greenlandic nation. As a matter of fact, it was a pivotal element in the creation of a nation. When using the word 'traditional' in this book, I refer to those cultural elements that have relatively old historical links or are considered 'original' cultural traits. The Danish flag is therefore the traditional Greenlandic flag; the Lutheran church is the traditional religious institution because in Greenland today no other religious institution exists with links farther back in history. Furthermore, after Christmas, when people dress up in masks and odd clothes (the mitaartut tradition, dealt with in chapter 1), this might be referred to as a traditional activity in spite of the fact that no one has been able to trace its roots back more than about a hundred years. Today, it is the oldest of its kind and only sporadically practised in the towns. I also refer to sealing with nets under the ice in wintertime as traditional, because it is considered to be an old and efficient Greenlandic harvesting method, although it was introduced by Danish merchants and trade assistants for them to survive during the winters. Hunting - A Mode of Production Fishing and fish processing are the factors that more than anything else have changed the West Greenlandic communities. Since World War II, thousands of people have left the settlements of West Greenland to base their lives on the booming fishing industry in towns like Ilulissat, Sisimiut, Nuuk, and others. Those who remained were those who continued to practise a hunting way of life. This way of life is based on what I denote as a 'hunting mode of production.' There are several reasons for using this (controversial) concept, which has a long history within the anthropological materialist tradition (for a recent overview, see Kelly 1995). First of all, it is a concise concept with which to explain the system of

10 Saqqaq harvesting activities, and to delimit factors that have enabled a community like Saqqaq to survive - and flourish - despite the fact that planners, politicians, and scientists go on telling us that these small Greenlandic communities belong to the past (Paldam 1994, to mention one of the most recent doomsayers). The hunting mode of production-concept gives us a frame with which we can reach an understanding both of how hunters have managed to incorporate external changes, and also of a way of life that allows room for each individual to determine his or her own life. Technically, a hunter must have access to a large variety of resources, and he must be able to and have the choice to behave in a flexible way. Flexibility is a sine qua non to a hunting mode of production, which implies great freedom of action of each individual. Hunting is based on the incorporation of new opportunities, rather than selecting one opportunity or one strategy as the only one to be followed. There should always be an alternative. Highlighted within the concept of the hunting mode of production are a number of specified relations, to be denoted 'the seven pillars of the hunting mode of production/ which link man to the environment, to the game animals, and to other hunters. Among the most important of these relations of production are the following: communal access to hunting territories and resources with social control vested in the community; individual ownership of means of production (boat, dog sledge, nets); sharing and exchange of hunting products within the hunting community; the household as a unit of production and consumption; basing the hunters' identity on common heritage and on territorial rights. These relations of production are most often expressed in terms of kinship and a large number of personal partnerships or alliances. Hunters do a lot of things other than hunting. Some fish more than they hunt, and they all rely on some income from salaried employment. Hunters have always fished, and hunters of Saqqaq seem to have done much more fishing at the turn of the century than they did in 1981 (see chapter 3). Today, commercial Greenland halibut fishing has become a mainstay in the economy of Saqqaq, but the Saqqarmiut still rely on a hunting mode of production. Mainly attracted by the opportunities created by booming Greenland halibut fishing, young people now remain in or return to Saqqaq. This fact implies significant changes in the social and economic life in Saqqaq. The hunting mode of production will change and so will the hunting mode of life. Some significant changes are noted in this book. I do not

Introduction 11 subscribe to a functionalist theory that presupposes a closed system consisting of a number of interlinked, mutually dependent, and equally important institutions. The history of Saqqaq has shown that there is room for changes, but some pillars have remained basically intact, although possibly unrecognizable to a seventeenth-century hunter should he happen to visit Saqqaq today. Politics in Greenland is fascinating because it never turns out in ways foreseen by observers and scientists. Acts of politicians are often unpredictable, but behind them is a culture and a society that allow great freedom of action according to each individual human being. This is firmly rooted in the socializing process, and is a pillar of the hunting mode of life. There is great surprise therefore when a celebrated leader or incumbent of a high position is suddenly rejected. Without warning she or he has crossed the limit of the culturally acceptable space for individuality and personal autonomy. Or maybe she or he has no longer let the cultural and social ends meet - she or he has broken the basic rules of exchange, fundamental in any Greenlandic context. These culturally determined exchange practices are essentials in a hunting community. For some time, I thought that the establishment of political parties, more or less copied from the Danish system, would make an end to this. It did not, but it did much to change the world-view and to make the Saqqarmiut citizens of a new nation. The Colonial Past The history of Saqqaq has been formed in a dialectical process in which the colonial system enforced itself upon each and every community of what developed into the Greenlandic nation, while at the same time 'allowing' the traditional Inuit societies to develop and to incorporate external elements. Even the remotest corners of West Greenland have for centuries, and every day, felt the impact of colonial institutions. These institutions, foremost among them the Royal Greenlandic Trade Department (KGH, The Trade), were part of a vertical structure that had agents in all settlements. Those agents often acted as powerful local 'kings.' This vertical institutional system was inherited by the Home Rule authorities in 1979 (Dahl 1986a; 1986b). The local agents (Danes and Greenlanders) had their positions within the colonial system, but until fairly recently they also relied on hunting and on the local social network.

12 Saqqaq It is one of my main assertions that life in and the adaptability of small communities in Greenland today cannot be grasped without an understanding of the political economy of colonial and post-colonial Greenland. From the very early days of colonial history the hunting economy of the Greenlanders became incorporated into the world market. Since the establishment of the first colonial settlement not far from present-day Nuuk in 1721, mission and trade were integral parts of the colonial system, although divergent interests gave rise to many clashes between the two parties. Whereas the missionaries wanted the Greenlanders resettled around the mission stations, The Trade preferred to uphold the existing decentralized habitation. Merchants first came to Greenland to trade with native Greenlanders for blubber from whales and seals. Even before 1721, European whalers came to Davies Strait and Disko Bay every summer to hunt these large mammals and bring home blubber and baleen. Because of this ruthless exploitation, large-scale commercial whaling gradually came to an end, and consequently Danish merchants were left to trade blubber with Greenlanders, who operated near the vast coast of Greenland and only on a minor scale. They pursued a greater variety of whales and seals than the European whalers, who mainly hunted the large bowhead whale. The diversified economy of the Greenlanders was conditioned by a decentralized and nomadic mode of living. During the summer, people left the winter settlements and dispersed along the coast, or went caribou hunting in the interior. Merchants traded utensils, tea, tobacco, guns, and ammunition for blubber, ivory, skins, and baleen. But they never seriously intervened directly in the process of production. The hunter remained on his own, in control of his means of production (hunting equipment), and the colonial administration never interfered in the communal rights to the hunting territories. On the contrary, these have been recognized during the entire colonial history. The only attempt, in 1833, by two private Danish merchants to buy up all items of hunting equipment in the settlement of Napassoq (north of Nuuk) in order, afterwards, to rent them back to the hunters ended in a catastrophe for the merchants and in starvation among the Greenlanders (Trap 1970: 485). Likewise, Danes and others coming to Greenland never settled as competitors to the aboriginal inhabitants, but remained employees under the mission or The Trade. Thus, although Greenlanders at a very early stage were incorporated into and made dependent on market

Introduction 13 relations, this external integration was a mercantile dependency rather than a subordination of relations of production. During more than two hundred years of colonial history, until after World War II, The Trade upheld a monopoly on trade in Greenland. The Trade kept fixed prices on every item to be sold in all corners of Greenland and on hunting and fishing products bought from Greenlanders. Some commodities considered to be luxuries were sold at artificially high prices, while others, considered to be basic and essential goods, were sold comparatively cheaply. Having a monopoly, The Trade used the price mechanism to encourage the hunters to take up specific activities like cod fishing, as Helge Kleivan (1964) illustrated. Although the monopoly was broken in the 1950s, in practice it has never affected the settlements, where The Trade's store is often the only retail store. It is also still a fact that The Trade was, and is, obliged to furnish all settlements with daily necessities, and privately or cooperatively owned regular stores have never operated in the settlements. Even after the early 1990s when the retail market was liberalized and the one-price system seriously challenged, The Trade has remained in operation in the settlements and the outlying districts. This protection of the inhabitants of the outlying districts and settlements against the full effects of the market system in the retail sector has its counterpart in the transport prices and in the market for commodities traded by the hunters and fishermen. The system of protection, which has its roots in the colonial era, is best labelled benign paternalism. Social relations in a hunting community are person-centred, typically associated with the bilateral kinship system. The vertical integration of Saqqaq into the colonial administrative structure and the system of indirect rule never did fundamentally change this. It was thus characteristic that persons elected to the local councils, the district councils, and the advisory Provincial Council(s) relied on their personal network, and they were elected as local representatives. A look into the history of Saqqaq teaches us that even the local agent of colonial institutions like the KGH relied on a local network. For more than two hundred years, Saqqaq, like the rest of Greenland, was ruled by a hierarchical institutional complex. This structure, represented by institutional agents, has formed people's way of thinking and acting. People became used to the fact that a person who occupied any local position of authority represented a large and powerful institution. Decisions taken by these institutional representatives were abided by

14 Saqqaq because they had access to large, unknown, and unlimited resources and benefits. In matters involving external agencies and actors, therefore, an authoritarian and patriarchal attitude reigned, despite the gradual decolonization of the political system initiated as early as the middle of the nineteenth century. The above-mentioned missionary and historian Ostermann gave the mixed ethnic population as a probable explanation of differences between Saqqaq and other communities in the area. He wrote that 'this [mixed marriage] has significantly made its impact on the people's way of thinking and way of living. Among these people one often finds a wider mental horizon and versatility in connection with more energy and initiative, but they also have been given more necessities of life and have more demands in general than is the case among people of nonmixed descent' (Ostermann 1921: 232). It is also highly conceivable that Saqqaq often had stronger and more skilled settlement managers (extension assistants of the early colonial days, later named settlement managers, and today's trade managers) than other communities. And it should be remembered that these representatives of the colonial trading company were also public authorities - postmasters, bank officers, etc. These representatives of a formidable and powerful institutional complex were patrons and brokers in the sense that this concept has been applied in northern Canada by Paine and others (Paine 1971; Freeman 1971). But usually they were also integrated into the local network of social and economic exchange relationships, often through marriage. Thus they usually found themselves in conflicting roles, on the one hand representing the non-local colonial institution, and on the other hand relying on the expectations of their local social network. The conflict they faced was between social incorporation and colonial authoritarianism. Skilled managers were those who were able to meet the local expectations, but were also endowed with the talent to mobilize the relational or symbolic capital (Bourdieu 1992: 112ff) given to them due to their institutional position when they were put under pressure from the locals. The Saqqarmiut seem never to have accepted the incorporation of a settlement/trade manager into the local sociocultural network unless that person allowed the institutional economic and political capital to be part of his network obligations. Managers who have come from outside - that is, primarily Danish persons - have only lasted if they have resorted to authoritarian and patriarchal behaviour. Locally recruited managers, or managers with local relatives, have not survived

Introduction 15 in office if they used their financial assets for network purposes; seen from a local point of view this might be legitimate, but legally it would usually be considered as some kind of corruption. Those who did neither were never given a chance. In this situation, no manager can stay free of both structural systems. It is really a choice. There is room for manoeuvring, and those who have had a chance seem to be people with strong local roots, who have mobilized their bureaucratic political capital and used that for local purposes. It is my interpretation of the history of Saqqaq that personally strong settlement managers have been an essential factor in the success as well as periodic demise of this and maybe other communities. Maybe it is typically Greenlandic, but it is no coincidence that the community is prospering in the 1990s when the powerful institutional domination from outside the community has given room for more diversified leadership. This has happened simultaneously with the vanishing of the traditional leadership of the great hunter, the piniartorsuaq. The contention is also that strong institutional leadership in Saqqaq came in conflict with the democratic movement of the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s, which might explain the decline in integrity, the internal controversies, and the decline of the village in the 1970s and 1980s. Obviously, there was a conflict between the local authoritarian leadership and the rise of the democratic Greenlandic nation. What remains clear to the analysis is that knowledge of the colonial institutional structure is essential in order to understand life in any Greenlandic community, even today. Before we enter into a more detailed account of specific themes, we must localize the community in historical time and in sociopolitical space. The development of small communities depends so much on a few skilled persons and on those in power. For centuries, all Greenlandic communities relied on the doings of a few representatives of the colonial government. In the case of the settlements, the dependency on the only colonial agent was paramount. It is, however, no less important to acquire an understanding of the unique type of decolonization that has taken place in Greenland since the middle of the nineteenth century. Such an understanding is necessary to explain the profound changes that followed the establishment of Home Rule in 1979. Decolonization In the middle of the nineteenth century, the colonial authorities took the first step towards decolonization. Local quasi-democratic structures

16 Saqqaq were established, and a system of indirect rule worked until finally selfgovernment or Home Rule was established in 1979. In 1863, the first partly elected councils were introduced in Greenland by the colonial administration. These district councils were made up of elected councillors (Da.: forstandere; Grl.: paarsissut) from each settlement within a district along with representatives of the colonial administration. The councillors were elected by the independent male providers (Gad 1984: 569). Saqqaq belonged to Ritenbenk district council. The council convened twice a year until 1911 when all district councils were replaced by elected (franchise for women was not given until 1948) communal councils (Da./Grl.: kommunemd) and new district councils (Da./Grl.: sysselrdd). From then until 1950 Saqqaq (including its outposts) had its own communal council. In addition, provincial councils were established, one for North Greenland and one for South Greenland (they merged during World War II). These various councils took up a lot of different issues. Important was the redistribution (Da.: repartition) of part of the colonial treasury. Part of the profit (it was calculated as 20 per cent of the amount paid to the hunters and fishermen) from the sale of sealskins, blubber, shark liver, and fish was redistributed according to a system that favoured those heads of households with many dependents and the most skilled and well-equipped hunters at the expense of the less lucky or less industrious. But a certain percentage of the income from the trading surplus was also used to support needy individuals and families in distress. This system of redistribution existed into the twentieth century. Every autumn, the prospects for a safe winter without famine were discussed in the district councils in relation to each settlement and outpost. Of paramount significance in this respect was the amount of dried capelin and dried meat that was accumulated in each community. The councils also took legal decisions. In a case from the late 1880s, Ritenbenk district council (to which Saqqaq belonged) decided to relocate a woman because of indecent behaviour, and in a case in 1895/6 they took remuneration away from two people because of violent behaviour.2 After World War II, when elected municipalities were introduced, Saqqaq came under Vaigat (Qullissat) municipality until it finally joined Ilulissat in 1963. In 1971, when the coal-mining town Qullissat was abolished and the whole population relocated, northern Disko Bay and 2 Minutes from the Ritenbenk District Council.

Introduction 17 Vaigat were linked to Ilulissat and became part of Ilulissat municipality. In 1975, settlement councils (Da./Grl.: bygderad} were introduced, and Saqqaq elected its first council of three members that year. When Home Rule was established in 1979, Saqqaq became part of the Disko Bay constituency. Saqqaq has one member in the Ilulissat municipal council,3 but no one from the settlement has ever run for a seat in the Home Rule parliament (Grl.: inatsisartut). Seventeen years after Greenland Home Rule authorities took over the first institutions, Greenland had developed into a homogeneous nation with its own parliament and governmental structures. That process is not the theme of this book, but the development of Saqqaq as a community is intimately connected to that process. Therefore, at this stage and in this context, two processes should be emphasized. One of the most radical changes away from a person-centred social and political system happened when national (Greenlandic) political parties were established (chapter 8). These became instrumental in the efforts to promote self-government in Greenland in the 1970s, and for some years political party competition had a significant impact on daily life in every community, small or large, in Greenland. The political parties had their prime legitimacy in opposing Danish rule in Greenland, and in the post-colonial era they were instrumental in the creation of a national political and administrative system. There was very little check-and-balance between the new national institutions and the approximately eighty communities along the vast coast of Greenland simply because the political system was geared to act on a national level and to cope with matters relating to decolonization. The structure did not really evolve to deal with a decentralized society of many communities. In the years after 1979, the initiation of a self-governing Greenland under the term 'Home Rule' meant that several unitary national Greenlandic institutions were established. From then on, there was less room for local deviations than was known under Danish rule. An obvious explanation is that the colonial institutions, which were ruled from far-away Copenhagen, were only able to function if they 'allowed' local traditions and customs to work. It could be said to be ironic that although the Greenlanders wanted self-government to create a 'Green3 In 1996, the settlements in Greenland lost their right to elect their own representative, and from then on all municipalities made up one constituency. However, at the election in April 1997, two Saqqarmiut were elected (see chapter 9).

18 Saqqaq land on Greenlandic conditions/ this has to some extent been experienced as a centralization and a blow against local customs in exactly those communities that symbolize the Greenlandic culture. This book deals specifically with how, today, there is less room for local management of hunting and fishing compared to only a decade ago. I also deal with how the locus of political decision-making has changed from a personal level to a societal level and with what this has meant to Saqqaq. While the community and its social system has often been able to incorporate changes imposed from outside into its own structure, this has now become more difficult. A second noticeable process connected to the introduction of Home Rule concerns the ethnic relations between Greenlanders and Danes. In the 1970s, the frame of reference of all political rhetoric was the ethnic dominance of Danes over Greenlanders (Dahl 1986a; 1986b; H. Kleivan 1968; 1969/70). Relocation of the population from small communities to towns was blamed on the Danish authorities. So were, directly or indirectly, the social problems that followed rapid urbanization. The ethnic question was inherent in the political awakening in the 1970s and so were economic development, labour relations, and so on. It is my interpretation that, after more than fifteen years under Home Rule governance, some of the social patterns that were overshadowed by the ethnic dichotomy have changed, and ethnic relations have to some extent been incorporated and internalized. New dichotomies have resulted, which, for example, have affected the position of those Greenlanders ('half-Greenlanders') who do not speak Greenlandic or look like Greenlanders. This internalization of ethnic relations has not been felt to the same extent in Saqqaq as in the major towns, simply because ethnic relations in this small community have never been cut off from person-to-person relationships. But it should not be forgotten that the ethnic rhetoric of the 1970s had a profound impact on the ideology and world-view of all Greenlanders, also those who were less affected by the direct and observable negative effects of ethnic (Danish) dominance. Home Rule in Greenland Home Rule was established as the outcome of a constructive agreement negotiated between Greenland and Denmark. In a legal sense, it was not an international treaty negotiated between two independent nations, nor was it a unilateral movement instigated by the colonial state.

Introduction 19 It is essential to underline that during this process the Greenlandic delegates negotiated as representatives of all Greenlanders, basically representing a unified nation. And no less important was it that the Danish state recognized its opponents as legitimate representatives of a Greenlandic nation. Furthermore, those who negotiated on behalf of the Greenlanders were elected in Greenland (the two Greenlandic members of the Danish parliament and five members of the Provincial Council in Greenland) in public elections. These persons therefore spoke on behalf of all Greenlanders including ethnic Danes living in Greenland. This process is therefore significantly different from the land claims processes in, for example, the Northwest Territories in Canada, which have been raised on the basis of ethnic rights. The Home Rule Commission, with equal Danish and Greenlandic representation, negotiated an agreement based on a report submitted by the advisory Provincial Council describing in general terms the Greenlandic viewpoints on the future relations with Denmark and the wish for Greenlandic self-government. The establishment of Home Rule is based on legislation passed by the Danish parliament, and it was accepted by 73 per cent of the Greenlandic population in a referendum held on 17 January 1979. Lawyers have debated the constitutional position of Home Rule (Harhoff 1982; 1993; Zahle 1998), but politically it is now recognized that Greenlanders have the full right of selfdetermination. Since 1979, Greenland has developed what comes close to a fullfledged parliamentary system. Except for such matters as foreign policy, defence, currency, and a few others, all internal affairs are in principle controlled by Home Rule authorities. Exploitation of mineral resources is governed equally between Greenland and Denmark, but in 1998, the management of this agreement was physically moved from Copenhagen to Nuuk. Inside Greenland, an effect of this formation of a strong centralized system has been a feeling of pride among Greenlanders at having a government 'of our own.' Until the 1960s, political changes in Greenland were dominated by decolonization from the top (Dahl 1986a; 1986b), but during the 1970s the process was furthered by an increasingly radicalized Greenlandic elite. Those who claimed self-government for Greenland did so with broad support from all corners of the vast country. This process of unification of all island communities is part of the explanation of the strength of Home Rule, but it also explains in part why a small commu-

20 Saqqaq nity like Saqqaq sometimes seems to 'disappear' as a community on its own when Home Rule authorities exert their power. Greenlandic Home Rule institutions are overdeveloped in the sense of the original formulation of this theory by Alavi (1972) and others (Leys 1976; Saul 1974; Shivji 1980; Von Freihold 1977). The character of the Home Rule 'state/ its power, its scope, and its area of function are primarily products of the Danish presence in the country for more than 250 years, and not a product of a national economic and social development. Although Home Rule has established a significant tax base, it still depends on annual block grants from the Danish government. There is thus no internal Greenlandic economic basis to support the high standard of living, the existing level of housing, the highly developed socialsecurity system, and the general wage level. This level of development was inherited by Home Rule, and it is generally regarded as socially and politically indispensable (Dahl 1986b: 321). At the same time, Home Rule institutions have become relatively autonomous in relation to Greenland's social and economic groups and to each community. In this connection, it should be remembered that all corners of the Greenlandic economy are dominated by Home Rule institutions and Home Rule-controlled companies. Those politicians and bureaucrats who control Home Rule institutions and hold many positions in Nuuk have therefore had considerable power bestowed upon them without checks and balances from within the Greenlandic society. No one seems ever seriously to have questioned the territorial integrity of the land claimed by the Greenlanders as theirs. Ethnic claim to land as known from the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act or the comprehensive land claims of the Canadian North has never been an issue in Greenland. The Home Rule Commission not only negotiated the authority of a new public government in Greenland but also laid the basis for what in the 1980s developed into a close to full-fledged Greenlandic state. The territorial identity of Greenlanders with the whole island is a basic element on which Home Rule is based, and the unification of the dispersed pre-colonial Inuit (or Eskimo) communities is recognized as the collective history of all Greenlanders. Social and Territorial Control The establishment of self-government (Home Rule) in Greenland after 1979 is, by and large, celebrated by all Greenlanders, the Saqqarmiut

Introduction 21 included - despite the fact, to be dealt with in this book, that it implies a gradual erosion of social control away from the local community. Most important, it seems to erode the territorial control of the hunters, replacing it with an imagined national Greenlandic territory without social control. In chapter 2 I deal thoroughly with this developmental trend affecting the cohesiveness of a small community like Saqqaq in relation to hunting beluga. In the process of nation-building, dozens of communities along the vast Greenlandic coast have been united under the umbrella of the identity of the self-governing Greenlandic nation. The change has been from a cultural to a national identification (Dorais 1996: 32). The Greenlanders (85 per cent Inuit and 15 per cent Danes) have acquired their own parliament and government, which rule in most matters of daily concern to the more than 55,000 inhabitants living in eighteen centres (towns) and more than eighty villages (settlements). Management of the environment and of the renewable resources are among the matters of Home Rule jurisdiction. Any kind of resource appropriation, from harvesting of natural resources to industrialized agrofarming and resource management, is inextricably linked to a specific notion of territory. Included in this notion of territory are a geographical dimension and a social dimension. All kinds of resource appropriation take place within the frame of a certain geographical area, and access to the same territory is always defined in relation to a community or to communities at more than one level. The territorial aspect of appropriation and management of resources is specifically important because access to the territory is linked to being a member of a community and thus being under restriction of the specific kind of control (social, economic, or political) exerted by the community. It is therefore important, in each case, to define the community (or communities) relevant to the type of activity under consideration. A focal issue is that the new national Greenlandic community is gradually developing its own territorial notion, which sometimes is at odds with local customs; but contrary to the customary and locally based territorial notion, it is not inextricably linked to legitimate structures of social control. In the case presented the customary social control (in relation to territory) of the local community disintegrates while becoming subordinated under the national community, which has not developed new kinds of legitimate social-control mechanisms. And this

22 Saqqaq has far-reaching consequences for resource management, of which beluga hunting is of specific importance to the inhabitants of Saqqaq. The focus is on changes in territorial access, where, until Home Rule authorities started to intervene in management of beluga and narwhal hunting, rules and procedures were vested in local customs and traditions. Although local customary rules and practices must be respected, these are increasingly being overruled by laws and ordinances issued in Nuuk. Rules and regulations in today's Greenland do not generally allow discrimination based on residence, even though hunting quotas in some instances might be allocated to a specific community (caribou, fin whale, and minke whale quotas are now allocated this way). In certain matters, a municipality is allowed to make its own rules and regulations - within the general framework as stipulated from Nuuk. But in this case, they are not allowed to discriminate against hunters from outside the municipality. In the 'traditional' system the local community is surrounded by a kind of territory, within which it exercises a certain amount of social control. Within these territorial boundaries all members of the community can hunt and fish because access to the territory is defined by membership of a community, and within this the access is nonexclusive. This is the traditional system as we know it from the oral traditions of old hunters and as explained in various articles and accounts from miscellaneous places in Greenland (Brasted 1986; R. Petersen 1963; 1965). The existence of such a territory is also the social and geographical frame within which, for example, beluga harvesting and the associated customs have developed after World War II and are still being practised, although with the newly developed limitations mentioned above. The building of the new nation on the foundation of a vast number of decentralized communities and a strong centralized colonial decisionmaking structure resulted in the creation of a new Greenlandic community with its own legitimacy, as recognized by all Greenlanders. The new community has had an impact on, but has not completely abolished, the corporate nature of the vast number of small communities. In a number of ways, the national community is at variance with the 'traditional' local communities. Its size alone contributes to making it imagined, in the sense portrayed by Benedict Anderson (Anderson 1991). No legitimate and effective social system corresponding to the new

Introduction 23 national community has yet fully developed, and while the territorial social control has been taken away from the communities, it has not been replaced by new mechanisms that correspond to the development of a national Greenlandic community. The result has been that people and activities have been left outside social control (local or national) as this relates to hunting activities. Each chapter in this book highlights one or several of the theoretical points mentioned in this introduction. Chapter 1 introduces the reader to the daily life of this small Greenlandic community, including the historical dimension that sheds light on life in Saqqaq today, and points to significant and unbroken links to the colonial past. Chapter 2 on beluga hunting has its main focus on the most significant collective and communal activity in Saqqaq. In this most outstanding and conspicuous institution of the community and of the hunting mode of production, shared values are reproduced and changes confirmed. Chapter 3 is about fishing. Fishing of Greenland halibut has developed into the economic mainstay of Saqqaq. The fishing of ammassat, capelin, takes place every summer when they arrive at the shores of Greenland. Today, it is of less economic significance than Greenland halibut, but it gives evidence of Saqqaq as a collectivity. Seal meat is a staple food, and chapter 4 is about 'what life is about/ sealing. Chapter 5 summarizes a discussion on territoriality. Chapter 6 stresses the pivotal role of sharing and exchange, and addresses the position of the household as a unit of production and consumption. Chapter 7 summarizes and integrates the various discussions on hunting into what I denote as the 'seven pillars of the hunting mode of production.' Chapters 8 and 9 return to Saqqaq as part of a larger social and political construct and focus on the establishment of the new Greenlandic nation.

1 The Community, Its People and History

Saqqaq Saqqaq means 'the sunny side/ The sunny side is the southern slope of the mountainous Nuussuaq peninsula, which extends from the ice cap 175 km east of Saqqaq in a northwesterly direction. The eastern half of this peninsula, stretching from the inland ice to Saqqaq Valley, northwest of the settlement, is a low mountainous Precambrian bedrock area with many small lakes. The western part of the peninsula, including most of the north slope, is a basaltic zone with high steep mountain peaks intersected by several glaciers. From east to west, Nuussuaq is bifurcated by a long valley with the lake Saqqap taserssua (Big Saqqaq Lake). At its western end this longitudinal lake falls into a major river, Kuussuaq (the large river.) Rising gradually behind Saqqaq is a green and friendly slope ending in high peaks and glaciers that can be seen from the settlement. Although not more than 979 metres high, the Inngigissoq east of Saqqaq Valley is most spectacular and Saqqaq's landmark. Saqqaq Valley and the high mountain peaks to the northwest frame what is often regarded as one of the most scenic and beautiful places of West Greenland. No less remarkable are the summer midnights when the sun hits the northeastern slope of Disko Island, only twenty kilometres across the strait of Vaigat from Saqqaq. In wintertime, the landscape looks desolate; only barren windswept cliffs break the monotony of the snow-covered frozen land. No bush reaches more than half a metre above the ground. When one crosses the land on foot during summer, however, a completely different landscape is revealed. The vast heather, lichens, moss, and many flowers give life

The Community, Its People and History 25 to a land inhabited by ptarmigan, ducks, geese, hares, and caribou. In late summer, the land is an enormous field with blueberries and crowberries to be picked and frozen by the Saqqarmiut. But in this part of Greenland, the growing season lasts for only a few summer months. One hits permanently frozen subsoil, only ten to twenty centimetres below the surface, when one tries to cut peat or dig in the ground. Saqqaq, however, is not a community of the land. Like most inhabited places in Greenland, this settlement owes its existence to the sea. Since time immemorial, the inhabitants of the land that is now called Greenland have earned their main subsistence from the sea. The thirty to forty houses cluster to the cliffs around a small sheltered natural harbour. The island Qeqertaq (which means The Island) in front of the bay gives protection from the worst effects of the gales so often raging in autumn and early winter. A continuous sea current flows west and northwest along the southern shore of Nuussuaq peninsula carrying a huge number of icebergs from the glaciers of Torsukattak to Vaigat and farther out into Davis Strait. Close to the small community, these giants rise above the houses and become part of daily life. Behind the small promontory Nuugaarsuk and protected by a shallow water entrance, Saqqaq's natural harbour gives shelter from large and smaller icebergs that otherwise would crush the small boats harboured in the inlet behind the island. Like all settlements in Greenland (in 1990 there were eighteen towns and eighty-five settlements in the country), Saqqaq is a clearly demarcated community, but far from being a self-contained unit. Let alone that Saqqaq is physically cut off by rough weather and sea ice for months during wintertime, the Saqqarmiut (numbering 1980: 147; 1990: 117; 1995: 188; 1996: 203) form a physical, social, and symbolic community. Twenty-five kilometres east of Saqqaq we find the nearest neighbouring community, the settlement of Qeqertaq. Qeqertaq can be reached by boat during summer and autumn and by dog sledge when the ice is passable. Most external relations from Saqqaq, however, go to Ilulissat, the industrial and municipal centre of the northern Disko Bay region. As history and kinship relations reveal, Saqqaq is also connected to communities north of Nuussuaq peninsula. In winter, a sledge trail links Saqqaq and Qeqertaq with Uummannaq, Ikemsak, and other settlements of this northern fiord complex. During the sailing season Nuussuaq peninsula is rounded by some boats, but today the main lines of communication go south rather than north or west.

26 Saqqaq The Inhabitants With the many colourful houses, the small boats in the harbour, and the drying racks with fish and sealskins, Saqqaq looks like an ordinary hunting community of northwest Greenland. And so it is. Usually, each house gives room for a married couple and their children; a lone grandparent traditionally lives with one of his or her children, but today this is a rule with many exceptions. Except for maybe one of the teachers, no household is without relatives in the community. About half of the people in Saqqaq have Jensen as their family name - they are mainly seen as two separate families, albeit married into each other. During the most recent ten to fifteen years the number of inhabitants has fluctuated between 107 and 212 (table 1.1) From the mid-1970s until the late 1980s, there was a general decrease of inhabitants (as in most other Greenlandic settlements). Hunters from Saqqaq used to deliver meat to the coal-mining town of Qullissat during parts of the year (Fencker 1981; Berthelsen 1995), and the closure of the mine in the late 1960s (the last of the more than a thousand inhabitants moved in 1971) might help to explain the decline in Saqqaq, as might fluctuations in the availability of harp seals (Smidt 1989: 76). An increase in the number of inhabitants in the 1990s can be related to the establishment of a fishprocessing plant in the settlement, and also to social changes within the community. In size, Saqqaq is a fairly typical example of the less than twenty per cent of the population of Greenland living in settlements. However, in a regional perspective, the relative size of Ilulissat (table 1.2) should always be kept in mind. With the exception of one or two Danish men married to local women, all inhabitants of Saqqaq are ethnic Greenlanders. The settlement language is Greenlandic, in public as in the private sphere. Compared to the situation in the early 1980s, more young men and women can speak Danish today, but only a few are fluent enough in Danish to communicate in this foreign language with authorities outside the community. Of course, this gives rise to misunderstandings, since many administrative authorities are Danish persons, and it also explains the lack, or the feeling of the lack of information. Those fluent in Danish are the transient teachers, the midwife, and a few others. A Danish mechanic has lived in the settlement since the 1970s, married to a Greenlander. He communicates completely in Greenlandic, although the language spo-

The Community, Its People and History 27 TABLE 1.1 Number of inhabitants in Saqqaq, 1960-97 Year

Number

Year

Number

reao r0YO r eso resr

sse srr MY res KY

rese reer reee

roY rsa rae r 88 soe srs

r 686

r ees

r08Y

r 665 r 668 T66Y

M5

rs^

Sources: Ministeriet for Gronland: Arboger; Statsministeriet: Arboger; Gronlands Hjemmestyre: Arboger; Gronlands Statistik: Statistisk Arbog. TABLE 1.2 Number of inhabitants in communities in llulissat municipality

Saqqaq Qeqertaq Oqaatsut Ilimanaq llulissat

1970

1980

1990

1997

218 79 151 171 2,544

147 83 85 99 3,648

117 111 63 86 4,191

212 119 56 79 4,168

Sources: Ministeriet for Gronland: Arboger; Statsministeriet: Arboger; Gronlands Hjemmestyre: Arboger; Gronlands Statistik: Statistisk Arbog.

ken in his house is mainly Danish, as it has been in the homes of the Danish-Greenlandic teacher couples. The children of one of the latter spoke both languages. It is worth stressing that all children speak Greenlandic, which is an Inuit language. In other Arctic regions in Canada, Alaska, and Russia, many or most children no longer speak their native language, and in some regions of Canada and Alaska the Inuit language is no longer spoken by any of the children. In the towns of West Greenland, it is sometimes said that many young Greenlanders manage badly in Greenlandic - specifically in the capital, Nuuk. There, 25 per cent of the inhabitants are Danish (1997) compared with 11 per cent in llulissat (the figures from 1980 were 31 per cent and 13 per cent respectively). But in most towns and all settlements like Saqqaq, the children of Green-

28 Saqqaq TABLE 1.3 Men and women of Saqqaq by age groups 1988

1981

1995

Men

Women

Men

Women

0-14 15-29 30-44 45-

31 19 13 17

19 13 18 4

16 20 8 18

11

16 6 14

32 37 21 20

26 21 13 18

Total

80

58

62

47

110

78

Men

Women

Source: Granlands Statistik: Statistisk Arbog

landic and mixed marriages speak Greenlandic. Recent investigations (Gr0nlands Statistik 1996) have revealed that 98 per cent of those born in Greenland and over 18 years of age speak Greenlandic, and that in the same group, 93 per cent of the children of mixed marriages speak Greenlandic. From Nuuk, another investigation revealed that children of mixed marriages are bilingual to an increasing extent (Langgaard 1992). In an ethnic sense, Saqqaq is thus a homogeneous community. This should not, however, be mistaken for an indication of a low influence from Danish or Euro-American cultures. As this study will show, Saqqaq is strongly rooted in the world market, heavily influenced by Danish culture and history, and fully integrated into the national political system of modern Greenland. It is nevertheless a 'traditional' Greenlandic community and the Saqqarmiut are bearers of the 'traditional Greenlandic culture' of today. Very often, the cultural traditions and customs have been saved, developed, and furthered by families of mixed ethnic marriage, and the fact is that today most ethnic Greenlanders have Danish ancestors. The statistics reveal a deficit of women in Saqqaq (table 1.3). As will be dealt with in a later chapter, this is a general characteristic of all settlements in Greenland, and most distinct in communities still relying on hunting but in a stage of becoming more and more dependent on fishing as the main trade. In 1996, there was still a majority of men (117) compared with women (86) in Saqqaq. In 1980, Saqqaq was a settlement on the decline; for years the number of inhabitants had decreased, there was much drinking, and the hunters showed very little initiative to deal with new opportunities brought

The Community, Its People and History 29 by political changes. By 1996, it had become a flourishing community. Fewer teenagers leave the community, and a number of young men and women have returned to their place of birth. This is partly explained by the establishment of a fish-processing plant in the mid1980s. But a self-confident mood has also developed among the young people. During summer, the social structure of Saqqaq is different from the winter situation. Seasonal workers come to build houses, erect a fishprocessing plant, construct a new quay, and work on other projects. Teenaged children return from the boarding school (high school) in Ilulissat during summer vacation, old-timers come for capelin fishing, for seal hunting, or just to visit, and some families leave Saqqaq for weeks or even longer. A few trekking tourists stay in one of the huts or in 'the big house/ the largest construction in the settlement, built by the former settlement manager Hannibal Fencker and now owned by people from Denmark. It should be noted that the number of tourists has increased rapidly in recent years, and German, Swedish, and Danish tourists come from far away. Once or twice a week, the regional supply boat anchors outside Saqqaq, and some people use this opportunity to make a short visit with friends or relatives in Saqqaq. Strolling through the settlement one meets important members of the household outside each house - the dogs. During stormy winter days, they hide in small cavities in the snow, but otherwise they clearly occupy and defend their territories. Every hunter needs a dog team, which is usually made up of from five to twelve dogs. The dog team is an important means of production and transport during the season when ice covers the sea. The hunters are proud of their dog teams and an impressive dog team outside a house reveals the home of a skilled hunter. A dog team includes not only those dogs actually being used, but also puppies and pregnant females (bitches); the latter often roam freely around in the settlement. Dogs are chained at the outskirts of the community or around the houses, and in those households with more than one adult hunter a quite significant number might be seen. The dogs are extremely fierce, and non-householders usually do not intrude into their territories for fear of being severely bitten. If one dog attacks a human being, the others will follow, which, in former days, made groups of unchained dogs so dangerous. Dogs are not only seen, but also smelled and heard. Howling dogs are a characteristic that so often has taken outsiders by surprise. In the middle of winter or on a peaceful summer night as the sun shines from

30 Saqqaq the north, the familiar sound of all the dogs in the community howling at the same time makes communities of the North so different from those of central West Greenland south of Sisimiut, where dogs are allowed to be kept only as pets. History Seen in the mirror of history, Saqqaq can trace its roots back to historic Greenlandic and ancient Eskimo cultures. While colonial history exhibits an unbroken link to what should be labelled 'benign paternalism/ today's inhabitants put ideological meaning into their proud prehistoric heritage. My knowledge about the significance of the prehistory to the presentday inhabitants of Saqqaq began on a windy, cold, and miserable day in late spring. We had made a small fire between the rocks to prepare hot tea and get some warmth. For several hours we had turned ammassat, capelin, which were spread out on the cliffs to dry. The hard job was only alleviated by the fact that the real plague of this season, the mosquitoes, was kept away by the harsh weather. The drying areas were between present-day Saqqaq and Old Saqqaq, a famous prehistoric site. It was the place where Jens, one of the hunters, used to dry his ammassat. I remember thinking that people did not pay much attention to the fact that this was one of the most famous prehistoric sites of Greenland. I was wrong. On several later occasions, during social events and when beers had been opened for a much-liked discussion on hunting and 'the good old days/ there were allusions to prehistoric Saqqarmiut and the inhabitants of the numerous archaeological sites east and west of Saqqaq. These unknown forefathers of today's Saqqarmiut are integral to local tradition and heritage, and the inhabitants of the community legitimize their knowledge about hunting with the occupancy and use of the land and territory 'since time immemorial.' It all began a long time ago, more than 2,000 years BC, when West Greenland, from the south spit of the island to Upernavik in the north, was occupied by the first known inhabitants of the coast, a Palaeo Eskimo people ('Arctic Small Tool Tradition'). The first evidence of this distant culture was seen when artefacts taken from a site at the outskirts of Saqqaq were analysed. Evidence from this culture, which was called the Saqqaq Culture, was soon found along the West Greenlandic coast. Excavations in the area have revealed that the rich fauna of Disko Bay

The Community, Its People and History 31 has attracted all Eskimo cultures since then. Waves of southbound Eskimo immigrants from the north must have passed Saqqaq as did later the European whalers and explorers on their way northwest. Indications of the continuous occupation of the northern part of Disko Bay in general and of the Saqqaq area in particular are easily observed when one travels along the coast on foot or by boat. In bays and coves are remnants from prehistoric and historic days like tent rings, house ruins, and naanngisat, hopping stones placed in a row. Twenty kilometres to the east of Saqqaq remains the famous Saputit, a prehistoric caribou fence. When the first whalers, missionaries, and traders came to Disko Bay, the country was occupied by people belonging to what scientists have called the Thule and Inussuk cultures. The Saqqarmiut are the direct descendants of these people. The settlement structure was more decentralized in prehistoric and early colonial days than today, although there were local variations. Even though seasonal variations made people move between the settlements and the summer camps, the rich fauna at the mouths of the big glaciers of Disko Bay gave rise to quite large prehistoric settlements like Sermermiut and densely populated regions like Southeast Bay in the southern part of Disko Bay. In the colonial period, the Greenlanders gradually became sedentary - but they continued to move around a lot - to summer camps, and with their families from one settlement to another. In the first long period of colonial days, the propensity to change residence seems to have been more pronounced and long-lasting in this northern part of Disko Bay than to the south, and early in this century the Saqqarmiut were said to move over longer distances during summer than did the inhabitants of other Disko Bay settlements, although in general even the Saqqarmiut used to stay close to the community (Ostermann 1921: 229,267). As decided by The Trade in February 1754 (Bobe 1936: 44), Saqqaq was founded as a new colonial settlement (called 'colony') in 1755, when the colonial boundary was extended farther northward from Jakobshavn (Ilulissat). Before this, in 1721, the first Danish-Norwegian colonial station in Greenland had been established near today's Nuuk by the missionary Hans Egede. From its inception, Danish colonial policy was based on mission and trade. Although trade became more and more important, the two activities went hand in hand during the first decades, until the whole West Greenlandic coast, from the southern spit of the island to Upernavik in the north, had come under

32 Saqqaq colonial rule less than sixty years after Hans Egede's landing. A colonial district was made up of the colony, a number of settlements with a trading post, and numerous camps or outposts. Trade was carried on by various companies until 1774, when the Royal Greenlandic Trade Department (KGH) obtained a monopoly on trade in Greenland. During the incipient days of colonialism, trade was in the hands of various companies from Bergen in Norway, but it later moved to Copenhagen when, in 1749, it was transferred to the Royal Chartered General Trading Company (Gad 1984: 558). In preparation for the establishment of the new colony, The Trade assistant and catechist (lay preacher) Johannes Dorf had been sent there from Jakobshavn the year before. The exact location of the colony was chosen by the well-known C.C. Dalager (who also became Saqqaq's first merchant), because of the natural harbour, the scenic view, and the impressive surroundings (Bobe 1936: 45), and the place was known to be rich in resources of marine mammals, fish, and caribou. It lies between the glacial fiords and the open sea, a strategic location for intercepting marine mammals migrating through the Vaigat channel. The structures raised in the colony were typical of all colonial settlements and reveal the rationality behind the extension of the colonized area farther to the south and north of Godthab. Colonial houses consisted of a timberframed house of stone and turf for storing blubber, a warehouse and a turf-and-stone 'baadn0st' (boat shelter or boat house), and a dwelling house made of logs and timber (Ostermann 1921: 244; 1940: 58). The raison d'etre for the establishment of this as well as all other colonies was the trade in blubber. For years, Dutch whalers had been serious competitors to the Danish colonization, and even though they were gradually being pushed out of operation, they were still able to manoeuvre at the northern outskirts of colonial Greenland. This has also been given (Ostermann 1940: 58) as the main reason behind the failure of Saqqaq as a colonial settlement. In 1781, the colonial buildings, the manager, the craftsmen, and the sailors were moved to a new site farther to the south, between Saqqaq and Jakobshavn. Before that, as early as 1770, Saqqaq had lost its status as a colony and from then on it was run only by a trade assistant. When Saqqaq was established as a colonial settlement it was called Ritenbenk in Danish, but when the colony was moved, this was still called Ritenbenk, although the Greenlandic name of the new place was Appat. Saqqaq then 'regained' its Greenlandic name when the colonial structures were moved to Appat. When Saqqaq had been established as a colony, it became a trading

The Community, Its People and History 33 station, but did not acquire its own mission. In 1769, Niels Egede writes that no minister was allocated to Saqqaq because most of the Greenlanders lived away from the colony (1939: 239). The missionary C. Fabricius lived here from 1759-60, but the colony was otherwise served only by a catechist or one of the assistants acting as such. Ostermann (1921: 248-9) writes that there were thirty baptized Greenlanders in the whole district in 1770, and in 1816, only twenty heathens were left - and they lived at the place Ujarasussuk on Disko Island. When the colony was moved to its new location, most of the inhabitants followed, but some remained and Saqqaq grew in size. When, in 1784, a coastal schooner from the colony sank with a crew of five, it was said to be loaded with products from Saqqaq (Ostermann 1921: 268; 1940: 59). The settlement flourished, and Ostermann (1921: 269) mentions that a catechist functioned there in 1786. The prosperity of Ritenbenk at the new site and of Saqqaq during the last decades of the eighteenth century can be explained partly by the introduction of seal nets, which in the early years were applied mainly by Danish merchant assistants and extension assistants (Da.: udligger). The trading company had an assistant in Saqqaq in the 1790s and whaling was organized, but for some time during the Napoleonic war period of 1807-14 the place was unoccupied. In 1840, Saqqaq obtained status as a 'winter settlement' with a Danish extension assistant, a boatswain named S0ren Jensen, who had 'a reasonable Greenlandic house and took quite a few seals in nets' (Rink 1855: 141). Many of today's inhabitants of Saqqaq can trace their ancestry to this Danish boatswain. C.C. Dalager was also married to a Greenlandic woman (Niels Egede 1939: 239) and 'for years they lived among a friendly and concerned population of which the majority however were heathens' (Ostermann 1945: 72). Today Dalager is a common Greenlandic family name in this part of the country. From 1860, Saqqaq had status as a usual settlement (Da.: udsted) (Ostermann 1921:269). In 1884, S0ren Jensen died after forty years as settlement manager (1843-83) in Saqqaq. His successor, Gudbrandur Pjetturson, was a nonGreenlandic boatswain, and from Appat (New Ritenbenk) he was appointed to serve in Saqqaq. From the three years that he served in Saqqaq letters from him to the colonial manager in New Ritenbenk give an impression of a sympathetic but weak person.1 1 Greenland National Museum and Archive: Appat/Ritenbenk, Kolonibestyrer, Modtagne Breve, A. 57.13.01,13.22.

34 Saqqaq Soon after Pjetturson arrived in Saqqaq in 1884, he complains that the Saqqarmiut tease him. His weakness was soon revealed, because as early as April 1884, he is being pressured by the Greenlanders to lend them money. To the colonial manager in New Ritenbenk he writes that 'the Greenlanders come to me every day to ask for money, but I am so afraid that I do not dare refuse and give them a little bit every time they come because they say that they cannot get anything from the district council representative.' The most troublesome person is the catechist. Two years later Pjetturson seems desperate; on 9 August 1886, he writes (the letters are formal, but written in simple language), T find it necessary to write you a letter, because the Greenlanders at Saqqaq have let me know that they will attack me, and I appeal to you to take me away from here ... One person has already laid hands on my wife and his name is Nils Topiassen [the catechist] and I now send two kayak men with these lines and I hope that you will do your best.' Pjetturson received a prompt answer and his petition was accepted. But his trouble was not over yet. In a letter dated 1 September 1886, he writes the colonial manager, T am very grateful to you that you have asked the Greenlanders to keep quiet during the nights. Since you wrote them they have stayed away ... When I had asked them not to shout so loud, they only made more noise and they even gave me a slap in my face/ The crowd was led by the catechist, and even though a kind of truce seems to have replaced direct confrontation, in autumn 1886 Pjetturson made it clear that he could not stay at the same place as the catechist. Pjetturson seems to have been an atypical manager, since he was able neither to make roots in a local network nor to master his relational capital as an agent of The Trade. His successor, Jens Lange, was a Greenlander, or rather a metis (Da.: blanding), as Greenlanders of mixed Danish-Greenlandic origin were called in those days. The authorities seem to have been dissatisfied with the way that Lange handled the means bestowed upon him, and they did not really trust him. But Lange's position was different from Pjetturson's. He was an agent of a non-local agency and supposed to have unlimited supplies, but as a Saqqarmioq himself he was also part of a local social and cultural network. What for the institutional authorities must have seemed close to corruption could for the Saqqarmiut have been a sign of an act of incorporation into the local network of exchange. These opposing approaches to disposing of institutional means are incompatible, but to regard Lange's behaviour as completely illegitimate would violate the

The Community, Its People and History 35 local cultural traditions and also disregard the reality that Lange's dilemma has been felt and experienced by others since his days. The Saqqarmiut have always been known as industrious and skilled hunters. Among the great hunters, piniartorssuit, around the turn of the century were Johan Lange and Pa via Jensen, who, in 1908, were credited with being the first Greenlanders to have placed two skin or canvas bags on the front part of the kayak in order to be able to carry a rifle as well as a shotgun (Steensby 1912: 147). A letter in the archives reveals that in 1902 Pavia had his rifle sent to Egedesminde for repair: price, 14 DKR., comparable to a month's salary for the catechist. However, in a community of strong corporate feelings and values, such a person will easily come into conflict with what is considered the common good. Saqqaq seems to have been such a community, and the life of Pavia Jensen indicates that he must have been such a unique personality. Pavia Jensen, also called Angunnguaq, was a skilled hunter and a famous sledge driver. Shortly after the turn of the century, he had built a hunter's hut twenty-five kilometres northwest of Saqqaq at Qallu, a place to which he returned every year (H.C. Petersen 1986: 174ff). 'It was a quite narrow but long house intended for 2-3 families. When the family arrived the house was already warmed up because Angunnguaq had sent a sledge ahead to get the house ready' (ibid: 175). From there he went hunting seal, walrus, and caribou, and to fetch driftwood and coal along the coast and on opposite Disko Island. However, maybe he was too good, too industrious. In 1906 he moved permanently from Saqqaq to Qallu, which seems to have created problems (Steensby 1912: 171). The hunters in Saqqaq now complained that the katabatic winds from the high mountains behind Qallu, specifically in autumn, brought smoke and the smell of human beings from the house out to sea. The result was said to be that the seals that migrated down Vaigat returned and therefore never appeared outside Saqqaq. A letter from Saqqaq's trade manager, J0rgen Lange, to the colonial managers in Ritenbenk asserted that the hunting was bad and the Saqqarmiut assumed this to be so 'as long as Pavia Jensen has his house in Vaigat ...'2 The hunters insisted that Pavia tear down his house and move back to the community and he had to abide, only with the result that he left the community in 1908 with six other hunters, this time settling farther north of Qallu at Ataa, where the wind was said not to blow from the land out into Vaigat. Pavia Jensen had been the elected member of the 2 Letter dated 3 Oct. 1906. The North Greenlandic Inspectorate, A 57.13.01,13.22.

36 Saqqaq district council from Saqqaq since 1904, but when he moved to the Vaigat hunting camp, it was said that he could not continue as a representative for Saqqaq and a new member was elected.3 For some years, the boat from Ritenbenk is noted to have delivered goods to Ataa as a permanent outpost, but in 1912, Pavia was back in Saqqaq, where he became trade manager in the 1930s. In 1940, Hannibal Fencker was appointed as manager of The Trade in Saqqaq, and for close to thirty years he exerted his authority over the small settlement. Born in Greenland as son of a Danish colonial manager, Fencker was raised in a colonial milieu, but with the exception of a few years as a teenager, he stayed in Greenland his whole life and married a Greenlander. He was fluent in Danish, but his first language was Greenlandic (although his mother was actually Danish) and he considered himself as a Greenlander. He regarded himself as different from the hunters of the community, although he also considered himself as one of their own. Thus, although very much assimilated into the local society, he retained towards his fellow countrymen many of the paternalistic and colonial attitudes characteristic of that time. It is no exaggeration to say that Hannibal Fencker became a famous representative of Danish rule in Greenland for a generation, even though he was employed as a Greenlander and not as a Danish expatriate. He soon became famous as a narrator of Greenlandic nature and cultural traditions, and his hospitality was enjoyed by travelling bureaucrats, scientists, adventurers, and so on. Danish people travelling in the northern part of West Greenland would try to visit Hannibal Fencker; his version of the culture and traditions became the truth, to be reiterated orally and in books and newspapers. The ideal picture of Saqqaq was an image of 'Hannibal's settlement'; it was the colonial image of a flourishing primitive society in the hands of a reformed white man. This ideal image of Saqqaq does justice neither to the community nor to Hannibal Fencker. Although he was often very critical of local customs, he remained one of their own. He was the king of Saqqaq and people from outside talked about 'Hannibal's Saqqaq.' He erected a huge house east of the community, thus creating a physical distance between his own family and the rest of the community. There was law and order in Saqqaq, and Hannibal Fencker did not accept deviant behaviour. Born and raised within the colonial spirit, he never did change. I do not think that he really understood the political changes that swept 3 Minutes from meeting in the district council, 8 September 1908.

The Community, Its People and History 37 over the Arctic in the 1960s and 1970s. When he retired in 1969, he was replaced by his close Greenlandic friend Markus Jensen, himself a native of Saqqaq. Like Hannibal Fencker, Jensen was a cheerful man and a skilled trade manager, who came to be in charge of everything simply because he was the most capable to keep the accounts of the electricity association, the productions cooperative, and so forth. Since for years his wife was Saqqaq's elected representative in the municipal council in Ilulissat, substantial power was in the hands of one person and one family - by the way, a well-known phenomenon in Greenland. Since the death of Markus Jensen in the late 1980s, two women have held the position as trade manager, the first being a native of the community but the current incumbent a Greenlander from outside the community. Strangers and Saqqarmiut Several hours before the boat from Ilulissat reaches Saqqaq, the local passengers know exactly where we are heading, using the mountain Inngigissoq as a landmark. About half an hour before we arrive houses can be perceived behind huge icebergs, and when the boat finally anchors in the narrow sound between Qeqertaq and the mainland, the whole settlement lies in front of us: houses, fish racks, dogs, and people descending towards the beach to meet relatives or friends from the boat. To arrive as a foreigner at a Greenlandic settlement can be a very peculiar and embarrassing experience. Even if this is not one's first visit, a curious feeling imposes itself on you. It becomes even stronger when you stand up in the rowing boat, with all your luggage, heading for the beach or the pier; it engulfs you when you stand there on the beach, surrounded by natives of the settlement; the feeling finally overwhelms you completely when you are left alone on the beach, surrounded by the remaining children, and all others have left to disappear into the houses. There is no hiding! Many years ago, I had a discussion with a Greenlandic friend about a Danish top official in the Ministry for Greenland. Our opinions of this person were not exactly positive, and my friend suggested different penalties that ought to be given to him. The harshest penalty he could imagine was for this person to be dropped from a boat at a settlement without knowing anyone! The feeling of loneliness and of being at a loss in such a situation is

38 Saqqaq known not only by Danes, but by all foreigners. And a foreigner is a person with no relatives, friends, or partnership relations within the community. For such a person, the settlement is unknown territory, and the loneliness is reinforced by the lack of physical hiding. In this, as in so many other cases of daily life, there is a constant and urgent need for everyone to move along lines of established or known relationships. The bilateral kinship system helps, because very often a person will have a distant relative or in-law in the settlement. Arriving at a settlement, this is the time to recall, revive and mobilize kinship relations, be they close or distant. Knowledge about how to move around in this network is an essential part of the Greenlandic Inuit culture. The lack of hiding reinforces the loneliness of those - few - people who settle in Saqqaq without having relatives there. It is most problematic for a woman who marries a Saqqarmiut and moves to Saqqaq from far away, and who has no relatives in this or in nearby communities. The closely knit social network is essential to the solidarity and coherence of the community, but it intensifies the loneliness of those who are outsiders. The community is woven into a network of kinship relations that leaves only a few individuals, but no households, without close and distant relatives. It is often said that there are two major families in the community, but the significance of this is mainly that several factors in combination, for some years, did produce a certain bifurcation of the village (see chapter 8). In reality, people are related in a complex fashion. Kin relations are activated when the need arises. Only close relationships, that is, those of the nuclear or extended family, are constant terms of reference and serve to frame social and economic activities in daily affairs. In the early 1980s there was only one public phone and no private phones except for the settlement manager's and, in later years, also the midwife's and the one in the fish-processing plant. From nine o'clock every morning, people used to gather in the office to call relatives or to wait for agreed-upon calls from Ilulissat or from elsewhere along the coast. There was little privacy, and the clerk, the settlement manager, and those waiting in the queue would share the exchange of information. Even though communication rates and the cost of transportation by helicopter, airplane, or boat are extraordinarily high, the possibility for people regularly to exchange news, information, gifts of meat, birthday presents, and the like was greatly improved when telephones

The Community, Its People and History 39 became available to everyone in the middle of the 1990s. It is really astonishing how often people are in touch with relatives. So, while many observers might have the impression that modern technology works for the destruction of 'traditional' social relations and institutions, I would rather dare to take the opposite position in relation to some of the modern means of communication, which enlarge the network spatially as well as socially and make it more efficient. But there is no doubt that a part of that public exchange of information disappeared when telephones were installed in most homes and letters deposited in mailboxes instead of being displayed on the desk in the shop or the office. During summertime when the sun is in the sky for twenty-four hours, Saqqaq often gives the impression of being an open-minded community. But this could be disputed by the fact that outsiders have lived in the settlement for years without ever really becoming part of the community. It is thus a fact that there is a difference between strangers and Saqqarmiut, but the dividing line is mainly along kinship and social relations rather than on a strict territorial basis. A person from another community can easily be incorporated into the community, if he or she can mobilize social relations that link into a Saqqaqbased network. In this respect, Saqqaq could be said to be a symbolic community (Nuttall 1992). Migration and Communication The settlement of today is a permanent community, inhabited year round; no longer do people migrate seasonally from winter settlements to summer camps. Although some families or some members of families move to tent camps for shorter periods during summer, they keep regular, daily, or nearly daily contact with the settlement, if for no other reason than that fish have to be traded fresh to the processing plant or salting house in Saqqaq. From year to year, significant fluctuations in the demography of every community in Greenland have been a historical fact. Some of these changes have been determined by migration, others by administrative measures, and still others by epidemics and accidents. Even though people have moved to and from the settlement, a core of families has continuously been associated with Saqqaq. However, like all other communities in Greenland, Saqqaq has never been isolated, and people have changed their 'address' over seasons and over the

40 Saqqaq years. The notion of a community consisting of only a single inhabited place is thus of quite recent invention. For all practical means, the old demographic structure, which included permanent occupied outposts and temporary camps, existed until after World War II. In some respects, therefore, the settlement (like other Greenlandic communities) of today is more territorially bounded and its territory to a certain extent more delimited than was the case only a few generations ago and this in spite of increased communication with the outside world. The regular nomadic lifestyle of older days, following more or less predictable geographical movements, has been given up. In terms of personal careers and development of family composition, people move around a lot, but the demographic migrations exhibit some notable changes over time and space. Since these factors are important in understanding both the contemporary situation and the evolution of Saqqaq as a community, I introduce them here. A number of characteristics are as common to Saqqaq as to other settlements in Greenland, specifically those on the verge of shifting from a mainly hunting-based subsistence to fishing as the primary economic activity. The first is easily observed - the surplus of young men. In order to attend the secondary school in Ilulissat, young, unmarried women and girls leave the settlement in larger numbers than young men and boys of the same age. This is true of Greenland in general since at least the 1960s. This is explained and its consequences dealt with in chapter 7. Young men are more socialized into a hunting and fishing mode of living than are young women. They stay longer in the home community and are less educated. No wonder, therefore, that the dance evenings in the community hall have their main season during holidays when the girls return from the secondary school in Ilulissat. This being said, it should also be noted that a significant change has taken place in Saqqaq in the 1990s. Although young women leave, some have started to return and settle down. And due to the predominance of patrilocal residence, young women have also married and moved to Saqqaq from other communities. In this respect, Saqqaq in the 1990s can no longer be said to be a typical Greenlandic settlement. Men migrate from the settlement later in life and marry at an older age than women. All in all, statistics clearly reveal a significant migration from settlements to towns all over Greenland; this is also a movement from one lifestyle to another. This implies that only few young

The Community, Its People and History 41 people consider settlement life the frame for a lifelong career, even though a considerable amount of migration from one settlement to another takes place. The general trend is that very few adults who have left Saqqaq return to the settlement. Some come back after having finished secondary school, and many young fishermen return to Saqqaq for shorter or longer periods to hunt and fish in between working on trawlers or in the town-based fishing industry. Thus, even though some individuals return, no families migrate from towns to settlements except those who take up full-time salaried positions as schoolteacher, trade manager, midwife, and a few other jobs. The most recent trend is that young men and women return to Saqqaq with newly established families. While individuals leave the settlement fairly early during adult life, there is a trend for whole families to end the developmental cycle in the town. From 1980 to 1988, at least six families left Saqqaq to exchange settlement life for life in Ilulissat. More is said about this trend in chapter 6. Here, it should suffice to say that families (or parents) seem to leave Saqqaq to follow their children when, for example, the last grandparent is dead or when the father has lost his hunting companions (usually an adult or teenaged son). This explains why some houses are empty during part of the year, but are occupied in those seasons when the families periodically return to Saqqaq. This is also important because it makes it clear that, although quite a few families move to Ilulissat, they do not necessarily leave Saqqaq. They continue to return during the summer fishing, the spring and autumn beluga hunting, or even the early summer capelin fishing. To return means periodically to pursue an economic strategy, to visit relatives - and to return to what the Saqqarmiut consider the most beautiful place on earth. Eighty kilometres of sea separate Saqqaq from the industrial town of Ilulissat, and travelling is severely restricted for extensive periods every year. In spite of this, social life as seen in terms of geography, life career, or developmental cycle of families is no longer synonymous with settlement life. The same holds for economic relations. But still, Saqqaq exists as an identity-creating community - symbolically or in a real sense. This is also dealt with in a later chapter. Radio Greenland, KNR (Kalaallit Nunaata Radioa), is the foremost source of news from the world outside Saqqaq. Most people listen to the news in Greenlandic and to other transmissions in Greenlandic. In 1989, 63 per cent of the transmissions from Radio Greenland were

42 Saqqaq broadcast in the Greenlandic language. For quite some years, most towns in Greenland have had cable TV, receiving programs from Radio Denmark. In 1982, KNR established a national Greenlandic TV transmission system ranging from Southwest Greenland to Ilulissat. These transmissions were received in all towns and in some settlements, but most settlements, including Saqqaq, received the taped version several days or a few weeks later. It was not until October 1995 that Saqqaq and other settlements in this part of Greenland were directly linked to the national television network. News in the Greenlandic language is now broadcast from Nuuk for thirty minutes five days a week. Fewer than 15 per cent of all transmissions are in the Greenlandic language; the majority of TV transmissions are in Danish or in English with Danish subtitles. People might fear that this, as well as popular videos now circulating and sold in Greenland, might have a deleterious effect on the Greenlandic language, but it might also mean that people become more fluent in Danish and English. Radio Greenland has a regional branch in Ilulissat. The radio has had transmissions from Saqqaq, but that is, of course, an exception since the regional office covers the coast from Disko Bay to the northernmost part of Greenland. Children and adults read books in Greenlandic, and new books written in or translated into Greenlandic are sold soon after becoming available in the shop in Saqqaq. When a representative of The Witness of Joshua once made a short visit to Saqqaq, a family joked about how good it was that he came, because they had no Greenlandic books to read in those days. The two bilingual Greenlandic newspapers, Atuagagdliutit/Gr0nlandsposten (in 1980-1 weekly, but now published twice a week) and Sermitsiaq (weekly), can usually be bought in Saqqaq, and they are read very meticulously. Some people prefer Danish weekly magazines, some of which are also available. A local newspaper, lluliarmioq, is published irregularly in Ilulissat, at times fortnightly, at other times monthly; for a number of years in the 1980s, it was not published at all. Like the other newspapers, it is written in both Greenlandic and Danish, but most of its news is from the town, and, as far as I can judge, not very much read in Saqqaq. In the 1980s, the Saqqarmiut only used lluliarmioq in a few cases as a means of communication. One instance was a debate on the political and social role of The Trade manager following a very critical transmission made by the Ilulissat branch of Radio Greenland. The people of Saqqaq are much more globally oriented than were

The Community, Its People and History 43 their ancestors. Not very surprising, of course, but the identity of the Saqqarmiut has changed tremendously over the past generation. New identities have entered the arena with the establishment of political parties, the founding of the Greenlandic nation (as a product of the Home Rule process and its introduction), and the cross-boundary cooperation among Arctic peoples. Community of Seasons Nowhere in the world are seasonal variations of such importance as among Arctic hunters and fishermen. When Marcel Mauss wrote his pioneering book 'Seasonal Variations among the Eskimos' (1979), shortly after the turn of the century, he dissociated himself from geographical determinism, but he distinguished between the social morphology of winter settlements and summer camps. I do not subscribe to all implications of this theory, such as his assertion that 'there is one set of laws for the winter and another for the summer ../ (62). However, he called attention to the social and cultural significance of living close together during the dark winter months as a contrast to the more relaxed life in the summer camps. Even today, the change from summer to winter is so extreme and has such conspicuous impact on daily life that a short presentation of the seasonal variations in Saqqaq is appropriate. On 27 November, the sun rises for the last time. In 1980, the sun was last seen on 23 November, which was a clear and calm day, unusual in late autumn. It was not seen again until 16 January. In winter the ground is covered by a thin layer of snow except for the barren windswept cliffs. At this northern latitude, snowfall is never as heavy as in regions south of Disko Bay. During these months of midwinter, a faint daylight allows only a few hours of hunting activities. Before freeze-up, these are very much restricted to the tending of seal nets set from the land outside small promontories where the ringed seal is known to pass. Since autumn and midwinter are also seasons of regular gales, hunters are often trapped at home for days, so these are also days of relaxing, socializing, sleeping, and feasting. During November, December, and January 1980-1, I registered more than thirty stormy days or days with heavy winds. A gross figure shows that in this period hunters left to hunt or fish every second or third day. Stormy weather and the appearance of sea ice makes travelling by boat more difficult from the end of November. The last supply ship

44 Saqqaq from Denmark arrives at Ilulissat the first week of December, carrying all kinds of goods (including Christmas trees). After that, no ship arrives at Ilulissat from the south before May. Sometime in December the regional coastal schooner makes its last trip to Saqqaq, carrying items such as potatoes, coffee, jam, ammunition, clothes, and beer. Until the mid-1980s, the only means of flying goods and passengers to Ilulissat was by helicopter from Kangerlussuaq (Soendre Stroemfjord), the main entry into Greenland. Fresh fruit and vegetables were extremely expensive and available only in limited quantities. In Saqqaq, fresh food and fresh vegetables were more a dream than a reality from December to June. Since 1984, however, when an airport opened in Ilulissat, these goods can be bought year round - at excessive prices - in Ilulissat. A few years later when regular helicopter connections to Saqqaq were established once or twice a week during wintertime, these goods were, in theory, also obtainable year round by Saqqarmiut. Autumn and early winter is the season for indoor activities and most of the time is spent at home, relaxing, waiting, eating, gossiping, and socializing. The voluntary associations have bingo evenings, the schoolteachers organize evening classes for adults, and the small homes are the setting for social gatherings. Many of the dark hours are spent watching videos or television, and people really enjoy movies during the dark season. Before the introduction of TV, movies were shown once or twice a week in the community hall throughout the winter. There was no translation into Greenlandic and no subtitles, but two or three times during the movie it was interrupted and a speaker gave a summary of upcoming events. Most favoured, of course, were action films and movies for children, who often crawled together behind the screen to see the movie from that angle. During late autumn and winter, days are very short, but on clear days the hunters can go hunting for a few hours in the middle of the day. However, most days are dark and often stormy, and until ice covers the sea, the hunters are much restrained from leaving the settlement. No wonder that December and January is the season of festivals and celebrations. Even though indoor activities dominate, the children roam around in the darkness, playing and amusing themselves by looking through the windows of the houses. As outsiders, we thought that we were the specific object of this activity and chased away the culprits, not knowing that this is an old tradition in Northern Greenland. The habit was

The Community, Its People and History 45 the focus of a legal case brought before the district council in 1896,4 and even today the Saqqarmiut do not seem to take much notice of it. On the first Sunday in Advent, more people than usual go to one of the two church services. An exception was in 1980 when the hunters took advantage of an extraordinarily nice day to go seal hunting. Later that day, people visit one another for coffee; most Saqqarmiut receive several invitations. This pattern is repeated several times over the next month. Christmas decorations are hung and a star illuminates a window in each house. Some families have ordered a Christmas tree from Denmark, which arrives with the last ship, and others have made their own traditional Christmas tree from available twigs. We were told that all Saqqarmiut go to church on Christmas Eve and again on Christmas Day at eight in the morning. They might have done so, had it not been for the fact that many took part in feasting and drinking parties the night before. In the afternoon, the church is full, and although I was told that everyone had to wear the national dress, half the people came in their ordinary clothes. There is a certain solemnity about the Greenlandic service and the psalms, but nothing confers the impression of humbleness or submissiveness, and it is not unusual for some of the churchgoers to be drunk during the service. One Christmas Day only one man had still not recovered from a party the day before. He took a nap during the service, and to the amusement of everyone, the psalms were accompanied by his snores. The church service is always in Greenlandic. The fact that people wear their national costumes at important church activities (such as Christmas, Easter, confirmation) indicates strongly that the church is seen as a Greenlandic institution. The hymns - many of which are originally Danish or German - are sung in Greenlandic; the religious texts were translated very early into the native language by Moravians 4 The catechist from Saqqaq, Jens Mikaelsen, who must have been an outsider, rebuked the children in the outpost Tartunaq for looking into houses through the windows. One of the locals, Markus Thomassen, reacted against this and beat up the catechist. When Markus Thomassen and an onlooker, Samuel Tobiassen, were brought before the district council, they defended themselves by claiming that this was an old tradition in Northwest Greenland. This did not help, and the district council fined them by taking away their repartition (redistribution of profit from trading). (Minutes from the Ritenbenk District Council meetings and correspondence from the council to the North Greenlandic Inspectorate, in Kongelige Gr0nlandske Handel 189, Diverse Correspondence, Lb.nr 38c, National Archive, Copenhagen.)

46 Saqqaq and by missionaries from the Danish Lutheran Protestant church. It was a Moravian missionary, Samuel Kleinschmidt, who, in the mid1800s, developed a new orthography using the Latin alphabet. When schools were established and the first Greenlandic newspaper, Atuagagdliutit, was published in 1861, the central West Greenlandic dialect developed into the new written vernacular used in all colonized districts (H. Kleivan 1984: 524-5; Dahl 1988). Most people identify themselves as religious believers, but orthodoxy is practically unknown. People say they go to church fairly often, but most do not. But those times a year when the minister comes to conduct the service, the church is full - unless, of course, the weather is excellent for an important hunting activity. At confirmation, marriage, and communion, which only a minister can perform, people attend in large numbers. Baptism, confirmation, and marriage are important cultural and social activities as well as church events. People stress the significance of the church festivals, but ideologically religion makes very little impact on other spheres of daily life. People invite one another for coffee after Christmas service, and the visiting goes on for several hours. Children stroll around in groups; outside the houses they sing songs and are then invited inside. Everyone exchanges Christmas greetings, and the children are offered sweets and cookies. Many carry a plastic bag and, when they enter a house, do not utter a word but hold out the bag, only to disappear again when they have received the presents. After an hour or so, the children become tired (it is minus 16 degrees Celsius) and they no longer sing the songs, but shout a few words and enter the house. By the time Christmas is over, every family has had coffee at least twice with all other families in the community - once as those inviting and once as those visiting. Close friends or relatives might be offered beer, although 'no one drinks beer on Christmas Day/ The social activities continue the next day, Second Christmas Day, and with no less intensity. In late evening, a few adult visitors sing some nice songs outside before they enter our house. They complain that the adults no longer keep the old tradition of going from house to house singing songs on Christmas Night. One of the old hunters likewise tells us that in the 'old days' they walked around twice singing outside houses, first between seven and ten on Christmas Eve and again on Christmas morning between four and six. They began in the western end and proceeded eastward. But that tradition is no longer practised.

The Community, Its People and History 47 When the day is over we suffer from genuine coffee delirium. The visiting rituals of Christmas are repeated during celebration of the New Year. It starts early on New Year's Eve and continues through New Year's Day. Before it gets too dark, there is a soccer game between those who live in the eastern end of the community, the Nuugaarsormiut, and those living in the western section, the Kangaamiut. At eight o'clock on New Year's Eve, those with families in Denmark set off some fireworks (it is midnight in Denmark), but the main celebration takes place at midnight. After the fireworks have been set off, there is a lot of visiting and New Year's greetings. Dancing in the community hall is mainly attended by the younger generation. On the afternoon of New Year's Day, the first mitaartut (sg. mitaartoq) start to perform. A mitaartoq is a person dressed in a grotesque costume. Some wear masks and one person has drawn a rubber boot over his head and cut holes for the eyes. Others have strange hoods made of sealskin or cloth. All wear stockings over their boots, and they all carry a stick, a tube from a vacuum cleaner or a bottle. It seems to be common for men to dress up in women's clothes and vice versa. The mitaartut walk around in the settlement and try to frighten people. They stamp outside the house and knock hard on the door until allowed inside. They say nothing but stamp on the floor. If asked about something, they either do not answer or distort their voices in order not to be recognized. A mitaartoq only takes off the mask if identified. They usually make bizarre gestures or dance-like movements. They are offered cigarettes or cookies, which sometimes are accepted, sometimes refused, unless their identity is revealed. Usually their identities remain unknown and the mitaartut leave after they have warmed themselves. Today, there is not much left of the sexual performance, which is known from other accounts of this tradition (I. Kleivan 1960; Nellemann 1960; Nuttall 1992: HOff). Girls and boys usually act as mitaartut in the afternoon, men and women of all ages in the evening. The children perform in groups of up to five or six persons, while the adults usually appear individually. The mitaartut continue to perform on the following days until Epiphany. One of the hunters told us that in the 'old days' there were no mitaartut on Epiphany. The exact origin of the mitaartoq tradition is unknown, but although it might have pre-Christian roots, it is also woven into Christian or Danish traditions connected to Twelfth Night and imitated by the Greenlanders (I. Kleivan 1960). There are, however, no accounts of mitaartut before the twentieth century (ibid: 28).

48 Saqqaq In the days that follow Epiphany, snowstorms and darkness reign. On 16 January the sun returns, and the shop, the office, and the school close at noon. Children and a few adults gather on a ridge behind the settlement to celebrate the return of the sun, hoping to catch a faint glimpse of it rising from the sea. In 1981, unfortunately, the sun could not be seen due to cloudy weather. The return of the sun signals the end of the dark season. Days become longer, stormy weather is replaced by weeks of high pressure, temperature becomes colder, and travelling on the ice becomes possible. The sea usually freezes sometime in January or February. Then the boats are taken on land, and netting of seals under the ice starts (see chapter 4). The geographical range of this activity is gradually extended, following the formation of sea ice in Vaigat and in Disko Bay. When heavy storms break the ice for short periods, boats are immediately launched. During this transitional period, Saqqaq is virtually cut off from physical contact with other communities. The season of dog sledge travelling starts with the gradual formation of sea ice. Whereas dogs are fed an absolute minimum during the summer, they are now offered nourishing food, including seal meat, instead of only fish offal. For several years during the late 1970s, the formation of fast ice was insufficient, and travel by dog sledge decreased as did the number of dogs. But during the extremely severe winters of the 1980s, this mode of travel increased again. In 1981, travel by dog sledge came to an end in mid-April, but in following years the ice could bear weight until the end of May. During February and March, the light returns and even before the end of this season, travel is possible day and night. From early March, daylight lasts long enough for those who work full-time in The Trade or in the fish-processing plant to go fishing or hunting after working hours. On land, people go inland with sledges to shoot ptarmigan. This is also a much favoured activity for teenaged boys, who go inland with a sledge and a few dogs. Skis are not used much north of Ilulissat, and in 1981, the anthropologists were the only ones to use them for hunting ptarmigan. The approach of spring is felt no more strongly than when the ice inside the house in the corners of the small entrance hall and at the outlet of the washbasin is melted by heat from the sunshine. What also happens at the end of the winter is a physical and social opening of the community. A few hunters travel across Nuussuaq peninsula by dog sledge to visit relatives in Uummannaq Fiord and to hunt and fish Greenland halibut. The Temperance Society might meet with like-

The Community, Its People and History 49 minded people from Qeqertaq, and the soccer team from Saqqaq visits neighbouring Qeqertaq on one of the last days of March. On the following weekend, the teams from Ikerasak and Qeqertaq are in Saqqaq for a one-day tournament, and a large number of dogs and sledges are chained at the outskirts of the community. The game takes place at the snow-covered playground and is followed by coffee and a dance in the community hall. The invited guests from Qeqertaq and Ikerasak stay with friends and relatives and much gossip is exchanged and beer consumed. In 1981, Saqqaq beat a combined team from the two other communities. One day in the early summer of 1996, the soccer team from Qeqertaq arrived late in the afternoon. It was early in the sailing season and there was not much socializing, and when the match was over, the guests left again in their boats. Qeqertaq lost the match, by the way. If ice conditions allow, people travel to Ilulissat and go far away on hunting trips, staying overnight in hunters' huts or in abandoned settlements. In 1984 and 1991, the hunters travelled as far as between Ilulissat and Qeqertarssuaq to hunt beluga trapped in the ice with no escape to the open sea, the so-called sassat referred to in chapter 2. The break-up process in April and May can restrict hunting and travelling for several weeks. In 1981, the first schooner carrying goods arrived on 22 April, but before that a few fishing vessels had arrived at the ice edge carrying people and mail to and from Saqqaq. In the severe winters in the 1980s, the first schooner did not arrive until late May or early June (in 1996 not until 21 May). Open water means summer and travelling by boat. At the first chance, many people rush off to Ilulissat. The only remains of winter are the ice foot and the snow. Soon water flows in streams and rivers and flowers emerge from the frozen ground. Following eight months of deeply frozen soil, water now runs everywhere. As soon as thaw sets in, you can feel the transition; the first impression is vague, and after a few days one realizes - it is the smell! In wintertime, the country not only exhibits a barren landscape, but even the smell is frozen. Senses of smell and sight respond to the melting of the snow, the thawing of dog turds, human excrement, dried fish, or remnants from the kitchens. No image of a Greenlandic settlement can be recalled completely without thinking of this smell so characteristic of summer. With the never-setting sun, summer is the season of outdoor activities and travelling. There are days of endless rain, but as often there are days and weeks of high pressure and endless sunshine. The community opens up and so does social life. The Saqqarmiut now 'inhabit' the

50 Saqqaq landscape (see chapter 3). The range of social activities is expanded. From May, nights and days are twisted around; soccer, for example, usually starts around midnight. In contrast to the sudden change from winter to summer, the latter passes only imperceptibly into autumn. Gradually, days grow shorter and late September or early October brings stormy weather and regular snowfall. Drinking Drinking is a notable social activity. In the early 1980s, alcohol restrictions modelled the drinking patterns and made alcohol the subject of conversation. The restrictions boosted the social significance of alcohol to a level never known before or since, and gave rise to countless discussions until after a few years the system was abolished. Under the restrictions as they were enforced by Home Rule authorities, every adult received 72 'points' a month. Each point could buy the equivalent of one drink: one point would buy one beer, six points would buy a bottle of wine, and twenty-four points half a bottle of liquor. The authorities then had the idea that drinking wine was wiser than drinking beer or pure alcohol, and they therefore stipulated that one bottle of wine could be bought for only three points. This enormously increased interest in drinking wine and in discovering the mysteries of wine labels. One day in the shop I had the opportunity to watch one of the hunters buying wine. He asked the clerk for permission to see one of the wine bottles, and he scrutinized the label carefully. Then he asked to see one of the other wines, and that label too was scrutinized for some time. The shop had four or five different wines. After having had a look at all of them, he chose the most expensive. That surprised me because I knew most people were used to buying the cheapest wine, which was also sweeter. People often mix a drink of half wine and half beer. This wine, a Mouton Cadet, was called puisi pingasut, three seals, because the label showed three garlands that looked like three sealskins hanging to dry on the clothesline. When the hunter had left the shop with his bottle of wine, I asked the clerk why he had chosen a puisi pingasut. He looked at me in astonishment, since that was the wine that I also usually bought; he assumed that the hunter's reason was the same as anyone else's, namely, that this wine had the greatest alcohol content! Every month, on our birth-date, we picked up our 72 points at the office. Most people went immediately to the shop to buy beer or what-

The Community, Its People and History 51 ever alcohol was available, and for sure, there would be a feast during the evening in that family. Most drinking takes place at parties involving family members, friends, political allies, etc. In general the Saqqarmiut have a good knowledge of each other's birthdays, but during the years of restriction, there was an extra impetus for this type of 'traditional knowledge.' Restriction, in turn, strengthened the pattern of drinking because most people used all their points on the 'birthday.' On the positive side was that drinking from one birth-date to the next was limited to those days when one was a guest at another person's 'birthday' drinking party. Greenlanders have a long tradition of making home-brewed beer. In the 'old' days, it was made from malt and hops, but under the restrictions those commodities were not to be sold. Instead, people used raisins, dark non-alcoholic beer, or whatever was available to give some taste to the brew. In the most drastic case, the beer was simply brewed from sugar, yeast, and one or two canned beers to give it some taste. The beer is usually brewed in a bucket or a plastic jar and left to ferment for a day or two. The normal procedure is to start the process one or two days before a birthday or other special occasion. People prefer to buy beer in the shop, but because of a special Greenlandic sales tax, beer and all other types of alcoholic beverages are extremely expensive. And of course in the years with restrictions most people ran out of points soon after their 'birthdays.' The little organization that home brewing demands is one day's planning ahead of a social event; it is never an abstract act for future drinking. Even this minimal planning has a limiting effect on the consumption of alcohol in contrast to the buying of beer, which can be done any time. During the time of restrictions the point system required considerable planning. The restrictions decreased the consumption of alcohol, specifically in those settlements where none or very few other legal or illegal means for obtaining alcoholic beverages existed. When the restrictions on alcohol were lifted after a few years, the consequence was increased consumption and an increased number of drinking days. However, a change took place in the early 1990s, specifically among some of the young people, who mobilized new energy, started fishing and constructing houses, and in other ways reacted against the drinking pattern of their parents' generation. The reaction and adaptation to restrictions and the point system revealed and emphasized, to me at least, the flexibility and 'instantaneous' character of social and individual life.

52 Saqqaq As do most or all Greenlandic communities, Saqqaq has its branch of the temperance movement, Blue Cross. There are members, an elected chairman, and a treasurer. Meetings are held at irregular intervals, but in the early 1980s, the branch was more active than in more recent years. There is a core of members, but also some changing membership, because some leave if they start drinking while others join because they have decided to stop drinking. The most extreme case that we were told of was a person who left the movement a day before a feast, then reentered shortly after. The religious aspect of the temperance movement is either absent or of very little significance. Joining the temperance movement is not the result of a moral attitude but depends on the determination of the individual not to drink or to stop drinking. Members of Blue Cross do not seek converts, because the decision to join the movement concerns one's own drinking and not that of others. That decision is 'contained' and does not involve other decisions related to the consumption of alcohol. Thus, in late winter 1980-1, when Saqqaq ran short of all alcoholic beverages, there was nothing immoral or inappropriate about a request from the catechist to the chairman of Blue Cross to drive by dog sledge to neighbouring Qeqertaq to buy beer. The catechist was not a member of the temperance movement, and the chairman did not drink the beer himself. It could even be that he was paid in points with which he would buy beer for his relatives. During the same period, there was a Blue Cross festival in Qeqertaq and the members from Saqqaq went there; as a natural matter they took with them a lot of points for buying beer. By the end of that winter, Saqqaq had been without alcoholic beverages for so long and the trips to Qeqertaq had been so many that The Trade in Saqqaq ran short of cash! Points were never seen as synonymous with alcohol, but as a kind of money that could be exchanged, sold, and bought. And so they were by everyone, including members of the temperance movement. They were, in fact, an extra income otherwise not available. The points did not circulate in a closed sphere fenced by a lot of moral or other types of restrictions. They were sold for money, beer, services, and food for dogs, but I have never heard of points being sold for meat in Saqqaq. It might have happened in the town, but inside the settlement there is general disapproval of meat being sold on the basis of sheer commercial conditions. Alcohol abuse is widespread in all Greenlandic towns and settlements. Saqqaq is no exception. The restrictions of the early 1980s were

The Community, Its People and History 53 positive in that they put an upper limit on the consumption of alcohol. The decision to abolish those restrictions was made by politicians in Nuuk and was generally not supported by people in the distant corners of the country. My impression was that, although people complained about the restrictions, many nevertheless were in favour of them. At this time, in 1996, Saqqaq and neighbouring Qeqertaq have made their own restrictions. Alcoholic beverages are sold only during the afternoon and only from Monday to Friday; liquor has to be ordered a week in advance. Since so much is written every day about alcohol abuse in Greenland and other Arctic regions, with good reason, I will limit this short section - noting only that a positive change seems to have taken place in the early 1990s! Coping with the Unforeseen It is one of those innumerable occasions when we sit around the low sofa table drinking coffee. The ittoq (head of household) is out hunting. Now and then, the woman whom we are visiting rises from the table to pick up something or to do an errand in the kitchen. Every time she passes the window she makes an imperceptible turn of her head to scan the settlement and the sea. One of the children enters the door, takes off her boots and sits on a chair in the kitchen. Tavia has returned/ she says. Her mother laughs slightly. After a short silence the mother tells us that the ittoq and Pavia took off in the morning to hunt in the same area, northwest of Saqqaq. A short silence follows. 'Maybe the ittoq will return soon/ she says a moment later. 'We have not had seal meat for a while.' Half an hour later we meet the ittoq down at the beach. There is a ringed seal in front of the boat. He tells us that the weather was extremely fine when they took off in the morning, and the seal was shot only ten minutes from Saqqaq. They sailed northwest but, as they were met by a strong wind coming down from Saqqaq Valley, they had decided to return; they headed for Saputit, east of Saqqaq, but had not seen any seals there. Hunting is unpredictable and so is the weather. Hardly anyone is more aware of this than the wife of a hunter. There are so many factors in daily life that cannot be controlled although precautions can be taken to cope with any unforeseen development. Today, most of these precautions are of a practical nature, whereas in the 'old days' these belonged to the supernatural world. But people have stopped appealing

54 Saqqaq to the supernatural, because no one believes that it will help. Still, life is 'instantaneous/ as characterized by the anthropologist Claude Meillassoux (1973). It is not only travelling by small boats that is dangerous. Travelling on the ice is no less risky. There are so many treacherous currents along the coast east and west of Saqqaq that undermine the ice; even though the hunters have an enormous knowledge about ice conditions in general and have inherited generations of experience with the hazardous areas, they nevertheless regularly break through the ice. The number of people who die in accidents is alarming. Hunting and fishing are dangerous occupations, as is living near and by the ocean. Keeping in mind that Saqqaq is a small community of about 125-150 people, the number of accidents at sea during the 1980s was frightening. In early summer of 1981, a ten-year-old boy drowned close to his home as he played on the cliffs. In the summer of 1982, a young man went hunting alone in his fourteen-foot boat; hours later the boat was found empty, drifting twenty kilometres west of the community. He was an only son. In the midwinter of 1988, a month or so before I arrived that year, one old hunter drowned when he fell through the ice outside the community where the current makes the ice dangerous to cross even in midwinter. People hurried to rescue him, but in vain. The current took him and only a few minutes in the icy water can be fatal. That hunter was often said to have had the greatest knowledge about ice conditions. A few years later another old hunter, who had recently moved from Saqqaq, drowned falling out of his fishing boat, and two years later a boy drowned falling from the quay. Since early colonial days Greenlanders, like so many other indigenous peoples of the world, have suffered from epidemics and tuberculosis, which over the years have taken a heavy toll. Tuberculosis is no longer a significant disease, but several of the old Saqqarmiut were hospitalized for long periods in their younger days, and they tell about the heavy loss of life among close relatives with tuberculosis in the 1940s and 1950s. The last major epidemic in Saqqaq was measles in 1954 (Fog-Poulsen 1957; Seedorf 1957), when a few people from Saqqaq died. There are no longer 'uncontrollable' epidemics, and the last 'medical accident' happened in April 1949, when two catechists and a hunter from Saqqaq died from botulism. Except for accidents, suicides, and homicides, the causes of death in Greenland are gradually becoming more and more similar to those in Europe and North America. Various kinds of rheumatism are common. Observed fairly often

The Community, Its People and History 55 among elderly hunters are gnarled fingers, said to be caused by travelling in kayaks. Hours of continuously grasping the double paddle with soaked hands at very low temperatures - often below zero - have, over the years, made their impact. Long-lining and seal netting require hands to be regularly submerged in water and then exposed to air temperatures as low as minus 25 degrees Celsius. Hunters consider the introduction of boats with outboard motors a leap forward from the much more dangerous kayaks of older days. As told today by the old people, the kayakers most feared 'kayak sickness,' nangiarneq. During the summer, there are days when the sea is completely calm and the surface is bright as a mirror. On such occasions, the kayaker, who sits very close to the water, perceives the icebergs and the land merging with the reflections on the surface of the sea. Like the pilot who loses perception of the horizon, the kayaker gets dizzy, loses his balance, and turns over. Many kayakers have drowned this way. Those who survive are usually forced to stop using the kayak, like two old hunters I know in Saqqaq who stopped using the kayak. One, still a young hunter in 1946, stopped after an attack of kayak sickness while he was hunting with his father southeast of Saqqaq. The other also stopped long before he became too old to go hunting.5 When living a life that, to a large extent, is governed by uncontrollable external factors and therefore dominated by 'instantaneous' decisions, it is important that other factors in the social and cultural life of each individual serve as reliable and constant pillars. The social network of each individual is such a constant. If relations in the network are broken, many efforts are expended to restore equilibrium or to make sure that a new balance is created. This is, for example, quite prominent in the tradition of naming. Thus, when a person dies, his or her name can be adopted and given to a newborn baby. In this way, social relations are reestablished because the newborn receives the qualities and social position of the deceased person. In two cases known to me, cousins became closer when the newborn babies were named after recently and prematurely deceased children. A person who has been away from Saqqaq for many years may use such measures to reintroduce himself or herself into the community, by activating kinship or other social relationships. Also, the first son to be born after the death of an older brother will sometimes be addressed not by his name but by angerla, the one who has returned. 5 Various theories about kayak sickness have been dealt with in an article by K.G. Hansen (1994).

56 Saqqaq Social relationships have to be confirmed and reproduced regularly. Sometimes this takes place deliberately, but often it is part of a wider complex. Besides being events of simple enjoyment and fun, birthdays, holidays, the celebration of 'first events' are popular occasions that serve as milestones in a world of unpredictability. It is characteristic that these events involve all or most of the households in the community. Birthdays are the most common of these. All birthdays are celebrated, and sometimes a family will even invite people to coffee on the birthday of a close relative who lives outside Saqqaq. Typically, in late morning or early afternoon, a child is sent to a number of houses to invite their occupants to the celebration. Soon after, the first guests arrive. They are seated at the table and offered coffee, home-made cake, and sweets. As other guests arrive, the firstcomers move to the sofa, where they are offered cigarettes and sweets. The child is then sent out to invite other families. During the afternoon guests come and go in a continuous stream. Each guest brings a present. It might be money; bills are sometimes hung on the wall and if the giver only has a large bill the person who is celebrating his or her birthday is asked to give change. Others buy a small present in the shop or in the privately owned kiosk; the clerk often knows the wishes of the person to be celebrated. The imagination is much restricted by the supply in the shop and, when winter comes to an end, canned fruits are quite dominant as birthday presents. If the person celebrating the birthday is home, he or she will often wear the national costume, a white anorak and black trousers for the men and the colourful dress, kalaallisuut, for the women. In the evening, the parents invite a few relatives or friends, who are served beer, coffee, and maybe such delicacies as fermented or fresh mattak, freeze-dried Greenland halibut, qullukkat, or whatever is available. On one occasion, a family invited another family, although they did not really want to. It was their youngest daughter's birthday and she was named after a very young girl of the other family. That daughter had suffered from tuberculosis and the parents had expected her to die. She recovered, but in the meantime her name had been given to the daughter of the other family. Thus, they felt an obligation to give the parents of the sick girl special treatment at their own daughter's birthday. Asked about how people celebrate birthdays in Saqqaq, one of the children simply said, 'First we clean the house, and then we start to invite to coffee all those who are not being invited to drink in the evening.'

The Community, Its People and History 57 Besides eating and drinking, there might be dancing too. A much enjoyed event is 'throwing in scramble/ This happens when someone suddenly interrupts the dance by throwing coins or small presents up in the air and the others crawl around on the floor to pick up as many as possible. I must have been too reluctant to pick up the money and the presents, because Emilie, a deaf and dumb woman married to one of the most skilled hunters in Saqqaq, a piniartorsuaq, put her forefinger to her temple and twisted it around, obviously to indicate how foolish I was. I am afraid that the nickname stuck to me; she has referred to me so ever since. A birthday is always an opportunity for having a small feast. In 1981, one of the hunters even celebrated that it was his 'day' in March, although his real birthday was the same day a few months later. And given the fact that the monthly alcohol rations were handed out on the 'birthday/ this alone gives twelve 'days' a year. The flag is always raised on birthdays. Before 1985, the Danish flag was also the Greenlandic flag, but in 1985, Greenland got its own national flag. When we were in Saqqaq in 1988, some of the Danish flags had been exchanged for the Greenlandic flag. It was initially those belonging to the ruling Siumut party who had changed their flags, but even in 1996, many families continued to use the Danish flag. Maybe they will change to the Greenlandic flag when the old one is worn out! Young and Old, Men and Women, Individuals and the Community In a small hunting community like Saqqaq, there is little physical segregation based on age and sex. People are crowded together in the small houses for most of the year. There is also not much basis for secrecy. One of the most notable differentiations of people based on age is the school attendance of all children. After school in the afternoon, the children do household chores, like fetching water or ice and emptying the closet pail, and run small errands or play outside the houses. In summer, they sometimes go swimming in a lake behind the village, but otherwise they seldom leave the settlement unless accompanied by adults. The youngest children nowadays attend kindergarten, which was established in the new community hall, constructed in the early 1990s. During the dark season, children and adults sleep a lot. But in spring and summertime, everyone sleeps as the need arises. Except that the school has fixed hours, there is little structure in the cycle of each day

58 Saqqaq during this part of the year. The same could be said about daily social interactions between men and women. The traditional composition of the household is that of the nuclear family or extended family with a grandparent. In the early 1980s, a small old people's home was built in Saqqaq, reflecting a Danish tradition that has been known in Greenlandic towns for many years. In Saqqaq, however, it didn't work and after some years the house was made into two regular apartments. In the families of hunters, the life of the men is more 'cosmopolitan' compared to the daily chores of the women. The men return in the evening not only with food, but also with news from outside the community. In several respects, the hunter is the provider, a theme to which we will return. Since various chapters deal with the social and cultural aspects of hunting and fishing, they will not be discussed here. Suffice it to say that hunting and fishing are activities that preoccupy the minds of the Saqqarmiut. Today, new opportunities that operate independently of the 'traditional' knowledge of the skilled hunters have become available for the Saqqarmiut to make a living - investments in fishing boats, salaried employment at the fish-processing plant, and various service jobs, to mention three examples. Authority and management of knowledge have become more and more diversified, making the exertion of knowledge and authority more individualized and less dependent on acceptance by the community. In the long-term perspective, the most significant factor in undermining traditional authority might prove to be the rise of women to more and more positions of institutional authority. (Chapter 6 deals with these issues.) Another factor in the erosion of traditional leadership is the diminishing return from collective beluga hunting, which is analysed in chapter 2. A Community of Institutions Since colonial days, a large number of public institutions have made a thorough impact on the daily life of all Greenlanders. Some of these bureaucratic departments, often just referred to as 'the departments,' have ruled Greenland since the early colonial days (Olsen 1976). Following the introduction of Home Rule, the institutional arrangement was reorganized several times, but the structure remained largely unchanged. Several of the institutions are represented even in minor settlements, and their buildings are easily recognized.

The Community, Its People and History 59 No town, no settlement, no household, no individual life career in Greenland remains unaffected by the departments. They had been much criticized as instruments of colonial policy, but today are often seen as an integral part of 'traditional' Greenlandic culture. They are part of the centralized monopoly characteristic of the whole society, and as a matter of fact they are very Greenlandic. Much has changed with Home Rule. The departments have been through a process of Greenlandization; decisions are no longer made in Copenhagen but in Nuuk, by people elected by the Saqqarmiut and all others living in the country. The decolonization has brought about an ethnic internalization of decision making. What has remained unchanged is a life governed by a hierarchical structure of institutions 'from outside.' This is a continuation of a historical tradition, but also a simple corollary to decentralized habitation. School The school is one of the most important institutions. As early as the middle of the nineteenth century, all Greenlanders were considered literate. Today, school attendance starts when a child becomes six years old and is compulsory up to grade nine. The school is one of the largest buildings in Saqqaq; it contains a few classrooms and a bath. There are two to three full-time employed teachers, who have been educated in teacher-training colleges in Denmark or in Nuuk. In the beginning of the 1980s, there was a teacher couple, he a Dane and she a Greenlander, both educated in Denmark. The third teacher, who was also the local catechist, was trained in Greenland. In 1988, there were two Greenlandic teachers, both educated in Greenland, and in 1996, one teacher was a Dane and the other two were Greenlanders. Besides the teachers, there are a few part-time positions; for example, an old hunter teaches the boys hunting techniques and how to make hunting equipment, and a woman teaches the girls traditional skin sewing and embroidery. Four classes are taught in school, one for the first graders and three for the remaining grades including grade nine. Those pupils who want to continue schooling have to attend the boarding school in Ilulissat, which teaches up to grade twelve. Following the introduction of Home Rule, Greenlandic was made the primary language of instruction and Danish the first foreign language. Thus, during the first years of schooling teaching is in Greenlandic only. In the upper classes, however, instruction is very often in Danish

60 Saqqaq simply because about half of the teachers in Greenland are Danish, and only very few are able to teach in Greenlandic. Students from settlements with no Danish teachers often face problems when starting high school in the town, where teachers are to a large extent Danish. Besides mathematics, history, geography, etc., pupils first learn to read and write Greenlandic and later Danish; in the secondary school, students are taught English as their second foreign language. In Saqqaq and in other settlements, classes are held every weekday including Saturday morning. In Ilulissat, the schools are closed on Saturdays, but Saqqaq has chosen a schedule that makes it possible to close the school for summer holiday in mid-May. This gives the children a chance to help their parents during the busy capelin fishing season and to enjoy life in the months when the sun never sets. A further advantage of the six-day school week is that it keeps the children occupied during the dark months when few alternatives are available. While the introduction of television in the 1980s opened a new leisure activity, the winter months allow for very few hunting and fishing activities involving teenaged children. Saqqaq belongs to Ilulissat municipal school district, which includes four settlement schools and two large schools in Ilulissat. Although the teachers are employed by Home Rule and not by the municipality, they usually refer to the district school director in Ilulissat in most day-today matters. The Trade

The Trade has always been the institution par excellence. Sailing into a settlement like Saqqaq, one is always struck by the many red buildings near the waterfront. These are the warehouses, the shop, and the office of The Trade. One of the warehouses always has a large number, specific to that settlement, written on the black roof as a landmark for airplanes. Many of these buildings are old, beautiful, and firmly built timber structures painted the red colour so characteristic of colonial and public buildings in Greenland. Until Home Rule took over, The Trade was in charge of retail sales, buying fish and hunting products, the postal system, shipping traffic, and banking - in short, everything. Until the 1950s, the Royal Greenlandic Trade Department (KGH) had a commercial monopoly, which by and large remained unchanged in the settlements even after it was abolished in the towns. The monopoly to buy, sell, and carry commodities

The Community, Its People and History 61 within the country and between Greenland and the outside world was accompanied by an obligation to deliver goods to all communities at fixed prices. Thus, one kilo of sugar could be bought at the same price in Saqqaq as in Ilulissat or Nuuk, despite enormous freight costs involved in getting products to an outlying settlement like Saqqaq, which is cut off from the surrounding areas for nearly half a year. When we stayed in Saqqaq in 1980-1, we went to the KGH shop (Grl: pisiniarfik) to buy everything and to the KGH office to send letters, make phone calls, book tickets for the coastal boat, cash a cheque, or pick up our monthly alcohol coupons. At the outskirts of the village we bought kerosene from KGH. The hunter delivered his fish to the KGH salting-house and went to the KGH to buy gasoline at the same time as his wife went to the KGH shop to sell some sealskins. No wonder that the KGH trade manager was a small king in most settlements. This absolute monopoly was somewhat modified when Home Rule took control over the KGH in 1985-6 and established the Greenland Trade, KM (Grl.: Kalaallit Niuerfiat). This entailed a division of KGH into a number of sections, allowing each section a great degree of freedom of action. In 1993, KNI was further divided into independent companies, but supplies and services to the settlements are still being taken care of by one company, KNI Pilersuisoq. The impact in the settlements has been minor compared to the towns, because there is only one shop and one office with the same person in charge of both. So even today, people do their shopping, banking, trading, settling of postal matters, and trading of sealskins in The Trade, KNI. No established relationship of dependency exists between people and The Trade. All transactions, buying and selling, are on a cash basis. The credit system was abolished long ago and many people buy goods when visiting Ilulissat, where the big supermarkets (including The Trade's shop) offer most products that can be bought in any Danish supermarket. Mail-order catalogues are quite popular as well. But during wintertime, people generally rely on locally sold commodities or subsistence products that were dried or stored in freezers during the summer and autumn. For casual and full-time jobs, many households depend on The Trade. This was even more pronounced before the establishment of the cooperative fish-processing plant in the mid-1980s. The Trade provides jobs for shop assistants and for labourers, who sell fuel products, salt fish, or carry goods from newly arrived ships to the warehouses. Most other jobs are now offered by the fish-processing plant, owned today by

62 Saqqaq Royal Greenland, a Home Rule institution (before 1985 part of KGH) that basically controls all fish processing in Greenland. Technical Organization, Nuna-Tek, and Its Successors In the 1980s, downhill from the church, there was a blue standard house owned by the Technical Organization for its personnel when carrying out construction or repair jobs in the settlement. The Greenland Technical Organization (GTO) was a state institution until 1987, when it was taken over by Home Rule under the name Nuna-Tek. The Technical Organization was builder of practically all housing in Greenland, as well as infrastructure construction from airports, harbour quays, and electrical plants to water and sewage systems and telecommunication facilities. It operated shipyards and the telecommunication system. Practically nothing could be constructed without adhering to standards set by the Technical Organization. Except for the KGH (KM), no institution has been more powerful in the modernization of Greenland since World War II than the GTO (Nuna-Tek). In 1990, Nuna-Tek was divided into several institutions, separating telecommunication, energy, construction, and shipbuilding, but the hierarchical system linking even the most isolated community remained intact. In practice, most houses in Greenland are constructed with public means and/or are publicly owned. In 1991, 72 per cent of all residences in Greenland were owned by the Home Rule and the municipalities (Granlands Statistik: Statistisk Arbog 1995). These are all standard houses developed by the Technical Organization since World War II. Many of them are of a very high standard, and although the Technical Organization has been a popular object of severe criticism, it should be credited for the very high quality of housing in Greenland, compared to other Arctic regions. During the 1990s, Nuna-Tek was further decentralized, losing much of its former monopolistic power in construction, technical services, and the like. In 1995, Home Rule established a new housing corporation, INI (Grl.: Inatsisartut Inissiaatilecjatigiiffik), with control over all publicly owned houses in Greenland. Today, about half of the houses in Saqqaq have been constructed as publicly subsidized houses. By public allocation and using public means, a house of a certain type and size is constructed and rented to an applicant. The rent varies according to the construction costs and, provided that people pay the monthly disbursement, they will own the house after a number of years.

The Community, Its People and History 63 The impact of INI is less significant in Saqqaq than in the towns. Since 1973, inhabitants of settlements have had the opportunity to construct their own houses with public support. For many years, the system was most popular in the municipalities north of Disko Bay. Since 1987, Home Rule has provided 95 per cent of the costs of building materials with no service of the debt. This loan is depreciated over thirty-three years. The builder has to provide five per cent of the material costs (13,000 DKR in 1995) and all the labour input. In Saqqaq, this arrangement has been extremely successful, although the hunters and fishermen have to use much of the best season on house construction. Since the early 1990s, when Saqqaq became a thriving settlement based to some extent on the introduction of commercial Greenland halibut fishing, about twenty new houses have been built by the young men themselves, and the visual impression of the settlement has changed completely. Political decisions in the 1950s and 1960s allocated substantial investments in Greenland to a few major towns, thus severely neglecting the settlements. In Saqqaq, no houses were erected between 1960 and 1974. But with the introduction of Home Rule and a concomitant new policy towards investments in the settlements, things did change, and a number of new houses were erected, including the previously mentioned home for the aged. The development policy, as furthered by the Danish authorities, also explains why the old type of winter house made of stone, sod, and wood remained widespread in the hunting districts in the 1960s and 1970s. In 1980, nobody in Saqqaq lived in a sod house. The Church The Lutheran church is the yellow building that towers above the settlement, but does not dominate the community as do the domelike Catholic structures in, for example, African villages or the fourteenthand fifteenth-century village churches in Denmark. The whole structure, including a small clock tower, was erected in 1909; more than eighty people can be seated in the pews. The lack of physical ostentatiousness fits well with the church's social and cultural position. Religion is an important element in Greenlandic culture and has been so since early colonial days, but the church of today is no powerful political institution. Besides the Protestant church, only a few minor sects have established themselves in the major towns, but they are of little prominence. The church language has

64 Saqqaq always been Greenlandic and has never been affected by Danification to the extent that the educational system, the bureaucratic, and the political institutions have. The church is considered, with a certain pride, to be a fully Greenlandic institution. The church leader in Saqqaq is a catechist, usually a teacher who has received special training and religious instruction. In 1980-1, one of the three teachers was a catechist, but since he moved in 1981, various lay catechists from the settlement have held irregular church services. That situation was regretted by many, but for years it was obviously not possible to find a teacher who could act as a catechist. In 1996, one of the villagers was educated as catechist and he now acts in that capacity. The priest from Ilulissat visits Saqqaq only a few times a year. Health Service

As in all other settlements, the Health Service in Saqqaq has a midwife whose primary job is to act as nurse and health aide to the doctors at the hospital in Ilulissat. Besides that, she has control over a small store of essential drugs to be dispensed locally. The midwife is educated in Greenland, but because most deliveries take place at the hospital her prime daily job is to act as nurse and 'barefoot' doctor. Every day she phones the hospital to receive instructions on how to treat patients and what type of medicine to prescribe. All complicated cases have to be dealt with in Ilulissat, Nuuk, or Copenhagen. A visit to the doctor in Ilulissat is frequently given as a reason for going to town. All health services in Greenland are free of charge. That includes hospitalization, visits to the dentist, and medical services rendered by specialists travelling along the Greenlandic coast in summertime. Every summer, medical specialists, such as the orthopedist and the eye specialist, travel along the coast rendering services or referring people for special treatment at hospitals in Greenland or in Denmark. A dentist comes from Ilulissat once or twice a year, first of all to serve the children. Greenlanders generally do not care about the condition of their teeth in the same way as do Europeans, and it is not unusual for a man or woman in his or her twenties to have all their teeth removed. The heavy consumption of sugar and biscuits among children might sometimes make the dentist's job hopeless, but prophylactic treatment, education, and the use of fluoride in water and toothpaste have had their impact. Like the other main institutions, the health system integrates the

The Community, Its People and History 65 settlement into a geographical and administrative hierarchy of decision making and rendering of services. In conclusion, it should be stressed that these hierarchical institutions are present in Saqqaq and all other Greenlandic settlements. This is significant in order to understand how a so-called traditional community like Saqqaq is integrated into the national and global system. In the next chapters, we enter the world of the hunters and we start with an activity, beluga hunting, that epitomizes the 'real life' as the hunters like to remember it.

2

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga

The Beluga Hunting Complex The hunting of beluga, being a community-wide activity, epitomizes and expresses the collectivity of this small community. In a physical sense, beluga hunting involves the whole community, and symbolically it is an arena in which collective ideas and representations are expressed, confirmed, negated, and revised. The hunting of beluga takes place within the public sphere and involves larger groups than do other kinds of hunting and fishing. Because the whole settlement is involved in the hunting of beluga, it is a well-defined communal and collective activity. The social setting of modern beluga hunting in Saqqaq is remarkably different from seal hunting. Whereas the latter claims the ingenuity of each individual hunter, the hunting of beluga puts the collectivity of this small community to the test. The typical image of the social structure of Inuit hunting activities is based on seal hunting, where the community is atomized into a number of households, that is, separate units of production and consumption. Taken separately, each of these units is integrated in the process of production, with the man hunting and flensing, often along with his wife, whose entire responsibility it is to scrape, wash, and prepare the skin. In the seal hunting complex, the social and economic frame lies with the domestic unit. To use the words of Marshall Sahlins, The household is as such charged with production, with the deployment and use of labour-power, with the determination of the economic objective. Its own inner relations, as between husband and wife, parent and

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 67 child, are the principal relations of production in society' (1972: 76-7). Meat and information are distributed to relatives, namesakes, and friends from other households as a result of the taking of seals. Compared to this, the beluga hunting complex not only knits various households together in the sphere of distribution, but the hunt itself relates directly to the community as a whole. Hunting of beluga is by far the dominating activity during two delimited seasons of the year. The first one immediately follows breakup, the second is in the autumn when days grow short. The days of beluga hunting are days of nerve-racking and intense waiting and watching. Young and old are on the lookout. As soon as the cry qilalukkat (belugas) is heard, each and every hunter rushes to his boat. The beluga is on everybody's mind. Women, children, hunters, and old people talk about it, longing for the hunt to be plentiful. A peculiar excitement surrounds the hunting of beluga, a kind of fever that affects everybody for several weeks. One explanation for this is that beluga hunting takes place within the public sphere. Thus, the cultural ideology of beluga hunting is a communal ideology, involving decision-making not within the family, as in the case of the seal-hunting complex, where the gender division of labour is a matter of family or household concern. Comparing seal hunting with beluga hunting, we see that the cooperation between wife and husband has been replaced by the combined effort of a group of hunters - ideally under surveillance of the whole community. It is specifically the prestigious process of sharing that places the hunter (the man) in focus. During the beluga hunt itself and the subsequent conspicuous sharing of meat and mattak (whale skin), authority, hunting ability, and alliances are recognized, reproduced, established, or formed in public, and conflicts that become exposed in public are aggravated or reconciled, thus confirming or correcting communal values. In most cultures of the world, it has been observed (Reiter 1975: 279; Rosaldo 1974: 35) that the public sphere (the beluga hunting complex) is dominated or even monopolized by men, whereas within the private sphere (preparation of seal skin), the roles are mostly reversed. When comparing the Greenlandic situation with other societies, it should be noted that women are never cut off from the public sphere. This is easily elucidated by the physical setting. In wintertime, the small houses traditionally give no room for separating men from women or children from adults; and in summertime, a landscape of rocks and tundra does

68

Saqqaq

not exactly encourage physical separateness. This furthers the sharing of information among men as well as women and inhibits decisions taken in secret. Besides being a strategic economic activity, beluga hunting derives cultural and ideological importance from its being a social and communal activity. As hunting implements and methods have changed, so have the rules of hunting. Still, the integrative functions of beluga hunting within the community remain, and as a public display, the partition and sharing of beluga meat and mattak reflect local authority, communal values, and even conflicts. As a community-oriented activity, beluga hunting contains a symbolic reflection of communal relations and values, and in it we can read the tensions in the small community. In many ways, beluga hunting provides an excellent opportunity to analyse relations of cooperation. Let us therefore look at the empirical facts. The Hunt In autumn, when ice covers Melville Bay in North Greenland, herds (schools) of beluga and narwhal migrate south along the coast of West Greenland. Whereas narwhals are common to the north of Nuussuaq peninsula, very few come down Vaigat, and each year narwhals are only randomly taken by the Saqqarmiut. An exception is in cases of sassat (whales encircled by ice), which is dealt with at the end of this chapter. In the northern part of Disko Bay, in 1980, the first whales were observed in the late days of October, and from Saqqaq the first animals were hunted on 30 October. From that date throughout November, beluga hunting dominated settlement life, thus constituting the hunting season proper, though a few isolated whales were taken in December. In early spring, as soon as the ice breaks up, the whales start out on their northbound migration. In 1981, the first belugas were taken outside Saqqaq on 20 April (in 1988 and in 1996 one month later). More precisely, it was Easter Monday immediately before the ten o'clock church service. One of the old hunters, constantly on the lookout, caught sight of the whales and eleven boats struck out. (Those who stayed home were not kept behind by religious considerations, but rather by hangovers from the celebration of Easter the day before.) From that Easter Monday through the following month, hunting of beluga continued with varied intensity, but always taking priority over

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 69 all other activities. In this season of never-ending daylight, time and geographical space are expanded. This is very different from beluga hunting during early winter, when darkness confines hunting to a few hours not far from the settlement. Let us look more closely at 30 October 1980, when the first successful beluga hunt took place. Actually, it all began a few days before. One of the hunters had returned from tending his long-lines near Atanikerluk, northwest of Saqqaq, and announced that not a single wolf fish had been caught. This is an unmistakable sign of the belugas' arrival. Diving into the statistical files from that year, we later observed that no wolf fish were sold to The Trade later than 28 October. The days of waiting and observing then begin. From first daylight until sunset, the hunters are on the lookout. From the small promontory Nuugaarsuk and from the bench above The Trade's office, hunters and old men scan the sea through binoculars. Only days of bad weather will break this rhythm. On 30 October the weather is fair, with slight frost and the sun in the sky for a few hours in the middle of the day. Suddenly, at 1 p.m. the cry is heard, 'Qilalukkat!' One of the hunters, Martin, has seen whales in the small sound between the island and the settlement. Everyone rushes down to the boats (twelve- to sixteen-foot skiffs with outboard motors), which for the past couple of days have been only loosely anchored by the jetty. In next to no time, the message is heard all over the settlement: 'The whales have come!' The children are let out of school and the teacher goes hunting. One of the labourers goes, along with The Trade manager. Women, men without a boat, old people, and children run to Nuugaarsuk to follow the hunt. All at once, the settlement has gone from quiet calm to intense activity and confusion. People are running! They leave behind what they were doing. Some go for their guns, only a few for warm clothes, and most rush down to the beach. Some of the first boats that are launched hurry to cut off the sound between the western end of the island and the land, thus trapping the whales in the shallow water inside the island. With people sailing back and forth in the western entrance, making as much noise as possible, the whales do not dare to leave the sound that way. When the whales return, the other boats are ready to shoot as soon as a beluga comes to the surface to breathe. At the eastern end of the sound, other boats try to block the animals from escaping. Two belugas are trapped and both of them wounded. As one of the whales emerges near a boat, it is

70 Saqqaq harpooned. To the end of the harpoon line is attached a red ten-litre gasoline drum. For a few minutes, the hunters follow this red hunting float before the beluga comes up again and is finally shot to death. Meanwhile the other beluga has escaped, but it is soon harpooned and caught south of the island. Nine boats, eight skiffs, and a small twenty-two-foot Greenlandicbuilt fishing vessel (peterhead) (Da: nummerbaad) participate in the hunt. To save time, the two captured whales are left in the water, marked by the red gasoline float. Now the hunt continues east of Nuugaarsuk, where whales have been observed. One beluga is captured in the shallow bay behind the promontory. More boats and a fishing vessel from Ilulissat have joined the others roaming eastward along the coast. The boats can be seen at all times from the settlement and gun shots indicate that whales have been spotted. This is confirmed when the boats return with two whales in tow. The majority of the boats continue west of the settlement, but a few boats pursue a beluga within the sound. This one is wounded, probably by someone standing on the cliffs, but escapes. Later, this or another whale is captured by a group of boats east of the settlement. At one time it seems as if there are whales all over, and great confusion reigns. There is no coordination of the battue, and the school of beluga is scattered in small pods of one to three whales pursued by groups of hunters instead of being tracked as one large school into a shallow bay. Only when the hunt takes place within the settlement area can women and men up on the cliffs direct it, because the whales are much more easily visible from above. For a while, when all the boats have gone west, whales come slowly migrating along the coast off the settlement. The only people left are one hunter, who stands with his gun on the top of Nuugaarsuk, and an old man, Kristian, whose ancient, rusty rifle fails to go off at the right moment. A minke whale passes peacefully - only one hundred metres from Nuugaarsuk. Around four o'clock in the afternoon, as darkness falls, the boats return to the settlement, some of them with a beluga in tow. The total catch of the day is seven whales. After several hours' rest, people gradually gather down on the beach, where flensing, partitioning, and sharing of the whales takes place. With the exception of a few street lights, the settlement is now plunged into darkness and the flensing is carried out by the light of two hurri-

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 71 cane lanterns. Hunters, women, and children gather below The Trade's warehouses, where six whales have been hauled onto the beach. One beluga had already been flensed in the afternoon. Two whales are now separated from the others and pulled to the sandy beach to be flensed jointly. I realize that these belong to one hunting party and are thus to be flensed and shared together. A larger group of spectators lines up in a semicircle behind the scene of action. All of them are chewing mattak. People have been longing for the first whales, and at this early stage nothing is more enjoyable than to cut off and eat mattak from the tail tip and the head, to be taken by everyone.1 Hunting beluga is the men's domain. So is the flensing and sharing with the notable exception of a widowed fifty-four-year-old hunter who most often is accompanied by his adult daughter. To judge from a remark made by Philip Rosendahl from Qeqertarsuaq (Godhavn) dating from the first half of this century, this has not always been the case; he mentions that women took part in the flensing of a beluga (1967: 612; see also Hutchison 1932: 320). The first step in the flensing procedure is to cut off the mattak in rectangular slabs of equal size from the up-turned side of the beluga to the back, then to the belly. A two- to four-centimetre layer of blubber is kept with the mattak. When the cutting of mattak from one side is accomplished, the animal is turned and the mattak is removed from the other side. A couple of hunters work together, and the pile of mattak slabs from the whales grows rapidly. When all mattak has been removed, the carcasses of the whales are cut up. The animals are still hot and steam rises in the cold evening air as the carcasses are butchered. The meat is always piled separately from the mattak. When this is finished, it is time for the sharing procedure. As a first step, the mattak is divided into as many small piles as the number of participating boats in the hunting party. Without exception, mattak is shared before meat. In this case, only a few boats have shares (that is, made up the hunting party) in the first two whales, and the sharing goes swiftly. In the meantime, some of the men have commenced butchering the 1 A similar procedure from the flensing of a minke whale in Qeqertarsuaq has been observed by Richard Caulfield, who writes, 'Even before the whale flensing began, a member of the crew cut out a small section (4-5") of the mattak from the tail using his knife, and ate it... While the flensing took place, about 30 or so people stood around, watching and helping out as needed in return for a small share of meat and mattak' (Caulfield 1991: 72).

72 Saqqaq remaining four whales. Very soon one of these, evidently kept separate, has been butchered. The mattak and meat have been piled when a discussion arises of how many boats - and which ones - participated in hunting this specific beluga, thus being eligible for a hunting share. A heated discussion follows before nine boats are appointed. Once this is decided upon, mattak and meat can be divided into nine shares each. Before the end of this procedure, two of the remaining three whales have been flensed. They belong to a hunting party of thirteen boats, including one of the small fishing boats and a fishing vessel from Ilulissat. Most of the boats from the first whale have shares in these, too. The last whale is also shared by thirteen boats - with a few replacements from the former hunting party, which likewise consisted of thirteen boats. Before nine o'clock in the evening, the last share is drawn. Behind the scene, women and children have been waiting to put the remaining shares in plastic tubs and on sledges. One of the older hunters looks really sulky. All in vain he had claimed a share in one of the whales, but Marius - an informal hunting leader - insisted that he had come to the hunting ground too late. Since that decision was agreed upon, the matter is settled. Fortunately, the old hunter has a son-in-law with shares in four of the six whales. The following day, 31 October, the settlement is in a whirl of excitement. Life is in the sign of beluga, and from sunrise people are on the lookout, spread out on the higher rocks. Attracted by the appearance of beluga near Saqqaq, shrimp vessels from Ilulissat have arrived in the night, and at daybreak they have left the settlement to go hunting on their own. Around 1 p.m., an old hunter who has been on the lookout shouts. Outside Nuugaarsuk, a school of whales passes quietly in contrast to the turmoil that takes the settlement as the message is heard. People are running to and fro, and I am asked to join one of the small fishing vessels. What happens thereafter is a copy of the events of the day before. Next to the easternmost houses of the settlement, we drive a single beluga into a small bay, Kangerluarsuk, where the whale tries to hide under cover of new ice in the bottom of the bay. It is as if we wait for ages before the whale comes up to breathe, and as we make up a noisy enclosure at the mouth of the bay, a group of boats leaves to track two whales outside, harpooning one and wounding the other. The skipper of our boat prefers to stick to the latter hunting group, but before we

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 73 reach the scene both whales have been harpooned and drift around with gasoline floats. Compared to the small boats with outboard motors, a fishing vessel is very slow, and our skipper now decides to rejoin the first group. After a while, the beluga emerges at the edge of the new ice and is then killed, whereupon we take the whale in tow. During the return to the settlement, a few boats have tracked a single beluga, but our boat is too slow to arrive in time. A group of boats have already drifted towards the west along the coast. We follow with the whale in tow and later we share in catching a single whale. Meanwhile, when all boats are out west, a school of six whales passes the settlement - but to no benefit. After two hours of hunting activity, seven whales have been taken and an eighth is obtained the following day. After an hour's rest, the flensing and sharing takes place. This afternoon one beluga is shared by three boats, another by six boats, a third by five boats, a fourth by nine boats, and the fifth and last beluga by seventeen boats, yielding only a tiny share to each boat. As darkness falls, the remaining two whales are moved to the island Qeqertaq, because it is said 'that someone steals meat under cover of night.' These are butchered and shared the following day, together with the eighth whale. In contrast to the relatively peaceful sharing procedure the first day, there are heated discussions about the sharing of meat, presumably because the many participating boats yield very small shares to each. This continues on the third day when the three whales remaining on the island are shared. A meeting in the community hall is formally called by the chairman of the local branch of the Hunters' and Fishermen's Organization, to recall the rules and disentangle the practice. This kind of battue or communal whaling as it took place during those autumn days is practised in other districts in Greenland (K. Hansen 1971: 48ff; Caulfield 1991) and in Canada (Wenzel 1981: 56ff; McGhee 1974). As in the 'old days' when kayakers frightened the whales by loud shouts and struck them with paddles (K. Hansen 1971: 52; Nuligak 1966: 16), great noise-making is an important element in today's beluga hunt. When a school of migrating whales is spotted, they are surrounded by the noisy boats with outboard motors, and the terrified animals are driven into a shallow-water bay or sound. If the enclosure is effective, the whales are trapped and easily approached, shot, and harpooned when they are forced to come to the surface. This hunting method is most efficient when the whales are driven into small bays, but the collective hunt very often takes place on

74 Saqqaq the open sea. Whereas few whales are lost in the first case, the collective hunt on the open sea is more precarious. In a technical sense, this type of beluga hunting is fairly simple, but it makes heavy demands on the organizational ability of the hunters. A concerted action has to be taken at the right moment to secure as many whales as possible and to avoid a dispersal of whales into smaller groups that easily escape. This challenge is discussed further below. The first day of the autumn hunting in 1980, 30 October, unmistakably showed the confusion that results from unclear leadership and lack of cooperation - splitting of the hunting groups and the moving around of participants from one hunting party to another. In such a case, as further elaborated below, the disorder is often repeated in the sharing procedure. From this detailed analysis of each sequence and process of the beluga hunting over a few autumn days, necessary information and insight have been gained to approach a structural interpretation of the communal significance of this activity. Before I proceed to an in-depth delineation of particulars of hunting cooperation and sharing procedures, however, a few words should be said about harvesting belugas with nets. The battue is by far the most used method to take beluga, but a few whales are taken in nets every year. A few hunters set nets from small promontories where they know that the whales migrate close to the shore. This hunting method is only applied in the autumn when the nets are concealed by darkness. Were it not for the ice that drifts north along the coast of Nuussuaq, this method would be applied much more, but the combined effect of ice and stormy weather destroys many of the nets, and the method is only infrequently applied by the hunters in Saqqaq. As she similarly observed from Disko Bay, Thomsen writes that 'hunting with nets was reported to have become less effective, owing to the traffic and noise, which have made the animals keep from coming close to the coast' (1993:18). Another method applied successfully in other districts is to set nets at the entrances of small straits into which the belugas have entered. The whales cannot escape and are thus an easy prey. This has been very successfully applied in Upernavik (Nuttall 1992: 35), but also to the northwest of Saqqaq (Rink 1857: 146; Vanhoffen 1897: 38f) and in the southern part of the bay (Collin 1809: 203). I have never heard it mentioned that this method has been used in Saqqaq, where physical conditions would seem to be perfect, with the narrow strait behind the small island Qeqertaq forming a perfect enclosure.

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga

75

As early as 1930 the hunters from Niaqornat at the northwestern spit of Nuussuaq peninsula complained about this type of hunt. They wanted 'to curtail or stop this exaggerated net hunting of beluga by use of motorboats during drive hunt.'2 They feared that this type of hunting, which was initiated by The Trade manager in one of the villages in Upernavik district to the north, would endanger the hunt of beluga farther south along the coast. In 1995, the efficiency of this method as applied in Upernavik was given as the prime reason by Home Rule authorities for making illegal all types of drive hunt in which whales are encircled or trapped in bays and inlets. This was done in order to ensure sustainability in the hunting of beluga and narwhal. The wording of the 1995 instruction is 'that any kind of hunting by encirclement, like trapping the whales towards the coast or the ice edge, is illegal/3 It is still too early to analyse how this instruction will be interpreted and applied. Hunting Parties Everybody in the community is allowed to go beluga hunting - and on equal terms. Even though no rules or regulations in the early 1980s excluded part-time hunters and fishermen from hunting beluga, angry voices were from time to time raised against those participants with full-time salaried employment. New regulations, issued by the Home Rule authorities in 1993, allow every person with a hunting certificate (both commercial [full-time]) and non-commercial ([part-time] certificates) to participate. Those angry voices were most frequently heard in times of scarcity, when only a few whales were shared by a large number of boats. In the spring of 1988, the chairman of the local branch of the Hunters' and Fishermen's Organization explained to me that a letter had been forwarded to the municipality in Ilulissat demanding that only full-time hunters and fishermen be allowed to hunt beluga. However, he did not expect a favourable response, because, as he explained: 'All members of the municipal council only have red hunting licences (the certificate for a part-time hunter and fisherman), so we 2 Minutes from municipal council meeting in Niaqornat 15 April 1930. 3 See Granlands Hjemmestyre 1995. The Home Rule instruction concerning the hunting of beluga and narwhal banned the use of any kind of enclosure ('encirclement') technique (Da.: omringning; Grl.: ungusisarneq). The ban was primarily directed against the type of drive hunt where whales are entrapped in shallow bays or ice-covered baylets.

76 Saqqaq TABLE 2.1 Composition of hunting units at Saqqaq

1-5 boats 6-10 boats 11-15 boats 16- boats

Autumn 1980

Spring 1981

7 11 4 1

5 5 4 6

probably never hear anything from them/ As a matter of fact, the proposal made by the Saqqaq hunters was that part-time hunters and fishermen should be allowed to participate, but only to receive smaller shares than full-time hunters and fishermen. As explained below, a similar grievance - but far more serious - has been raised against people from the outside pouring into Saqqaq and the northern part of Disko Bay during the semiannual beluga hunt. A group of boats (skiffs, motor boats, fishing vessels) hunting together makes up a hunting party or hunting unit. Most often sheer coincidence determines the composition of a beluga hunting party and only in rare cases does a group of hunters deliberately decide to hunt beluga together, and then usually far away from the settlement. This situation is different from the collective hunting of the larger minke whale, described from Qeqertarsuaq by Richard Caulfield, in which 'kinship is a major factor determining who participates' (Caulfield 1991: 80; 1994: 276ff). But, as stipulated by Home Rule regulations, hunting of larger whales like minke whales requires participation of at least five boats. As explained at the end of this chapter, the hunting of minke whales also presupposes close relationships among the participants - in Saqqaq as elsewhere. As the beluga hunt develops and continues, more boats join the hunting party, but often split again into units that hunt separately and pursue smaller pods of whales. The fission and fusion of hunting parties goes on continuously, thus carrying much confusion to the subsequent sharing procedure, which must decide which boats have shares in each whale. Most frequently a hunting unit is made up of from five to fifteen boats (see table 2.1), but in some cases more than twenty boats operate together. It is easy to imagine the irrationality of so many boats rushing around in close quarters. This is also illustrated by table 2.2, which shows no positive correlation between the number of boats making up the hunting parties and the size of each share of mattak. As a matter of

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 77 TABLE 2.2 Composition of sixteen hunting units at Saqqaq and size of hunting shares in kilograms, 1980-1 Number of boats

Mattak: size of share

2 3 4 5

55kg 67kg 46kg 20kg

B

6 7 9

18kg 17kg 12kg

C

11 11 11 12 13

6kg 15kg 9kg

A

D

21 21 22 25

20kg

16kg 4kg 5kg

35kg

9kg

fact, the number of whales retrieved relative to the number of boats decreases when the hunting parties grow too large. (It is, however, not possible to say anything about an optimum size of a hunting unit.) It is furthermore dangerous when twenty or more hunters simultaneously fire at a beluga emerging between the boats. All this is fully understood and complained about by the hunters, but the system and the rules of hunting do not limit the number of participants. Table 2.2 shows that the largest shares belong to the small hunting groups consisting of two to four boats. The statistics do not give a clear correlation of diminishing return for hunting parties made up of from five to twenty-five boats. Using some caution, however, the data in table 2.2 indicate a diminishing return from group A to group D, thereby supporting the findings from beluga battues in Canada reported by Eric Alden Smith (1991: 319ff), in which he indicates a linear decline from small to large groups. However, beluga hunting is a collective, communal activity, and

78 Saqqaq although individual shares diminish with an increased number of participating boats, there are no indications of a decrease in the total catch. Even if that were the case, beluga hunting is fun and mattak is so highly valued (as also indicated by Smith) that everyone tries to participate. The hunters are aware of the problems related to large hunting parties, and sometimes they deliberately try to separate from the others, but there are no means for them to exclude other boats. Only those who participate in hunting a specific whale - or a specific school of whales - are entitled to hunting shares. To participate means to join in on time and not to leave prematurely. If, for instance, a whale has been shot and wounded by a group of four boats, a newly arriving boat is not considered entitled to a share of that particular whale. In practice, this holds true even though, as the chairman of the local branch of the Hunters' and Fishermen's Organization explained to me in 1988, the rule is that those who came after a beluga was harpooned were not considered participants. Theory thus says that when fifteen boats hunting three whales but having harpooned only one whale are joined by two more boats, the first whale should be divided by the fifteen boats and the rest by seventeen. That is what the hunters try to do, but because boats join and leave, in practice they often have to accept sharing several whales - in this case three - among the larger group. As can be imagined, hunting practice leaves room for much discussion and an endless number of interpretations, thereby placing the informal hunting leader in an extremely important position when sharing of mattak and meat takes place (see also Dahl 1990). The differential role played by each participant during a beluga hunt is of less significance today compared with the 'old days.' When fifteen boats hunt together, no one can determine from which boat the whale was first wounded, and harpooning is as much a matter of collective efforts as of individual ingenuity. In the 'old' days when hunting of beluga was done from kayak (more than one generation ago), the hunter, that is, the person first to approach the whale, was the 'owner' of that whale, and others who joined him were his helpers. With the introduction of fast-moving boats with outboard motors and with all hunters equipped with effective high-powered rifles, this distinction is no longer possible and generally not in accordance with the conditions of hunting. Essentially, the hunting units are much larger today. Those descriptions available to me from Saqqaq (from interviews) of beluga hunting from kayak in the 1950s clearly indicate that usually only one

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 79 or a few kayaks pursued beluga in cooperation. In K. Hansen (1971: 48ff), there is a description of group hunting in Southwest Greenland with many participating kayaks,4 and a drawing by Greenlander Tittus M0rch from Uummannaq (Hutchison 1932) indicates the earlier existence of kayak battues in Northwest Greenland. From this it follows that today participation per se is more crucial than the specific role played during the hunt. In the days of kayak hunting, a distinction was meticulously made between the hunter, the second to harpoon or shoot, the third, etc. (see also pp. 94-6ff). Nowadays, with the dominance of battues and the application of motor boats and large hunting groups, the focus has moved away from the role played by each hunter towards the collective participation of a group of boats. The significance of participating should be considered literally, as can be seen from the following incidents. In the early morning of a fine calm day, one of the last days of April 1981, a substantial school of whales was observed close to the settlement. It was a morning to be remembered for some time, because that day fourteen whales were landed and flensed on the ice foot in the small bay next to Nuugaarsuk. That day practically every household was represented in the hunt. But one hunter, with his daughter and two sons, returned from a visit to Ilulissat in his sixteen-foot boat exactly when all the whales were lined up along the ice edge to be flensed - an incident that gave rise to quite a few jokes. They were returned with a promise that they would all receive meat gifts from him another day, and everyone laughed again. During the entire morning, hunting groups of varying size and composition chased smaller schools of whales along the coast. In the late morning, twenty-two boats had herded and trapped a small school of beluga beneath the ice in the shallow-water bay, Kangerluarsuk, east of the settlement. Since the school of belugas was observed in the vicinity of the community, this allowed an old hunter in his slow, heavy dory with 3 hp outboard motor to join. From the land, I observed what happened. The old hunter came from the settlement and joined the others at the mouth of the bay, waiting for the whales to surface. As usual great confusion seemed to arise when a whale came up and more than twenty guns were shot at the same time. In the tumult, the reactive response of the old hunter was far too slow, and before he had aimed at 4 The book from which this description is taken was first published in the Greenlandic language in 1922-3 as a 'Textbook of Hunting.'

80 Saqqaq the game the wounded beluga had dived again. Furthermore, in the tumult that now arose, the old hunter came into the sight line of the other boats amid shouts for him to get out of the way. In the end, this hunting party shot and retrieved eight whales. On his own terms, that old hunter took as active a part in the hunt as all the others, and in the final analysis the crucial point was that he had participated. Later that day the sharing procedure revealed the existence of a striking collective solidarity in the whole beluga hunting complex. During the flensing procedure, the old hunter worked and walked around showing unconcealed happiness because he, at last, had been part of a beluga hunting group. Even more significant were the reactions shown by the other hunters and the watching women. As I walked around, several of them expressed joyfully in identical terms, 'How good it is that Isak, the old, participated/ This was fully confirmed during the sharing procedure. All twentytwo shares of mattak were lined up - but one share with a whole tail was obviously larger than the others. The first share to be appointed (for a further description of the sharing system, see below) was the large one, and 'by chance' the lot fell to Isak, who laughed, beaming with joy - as did all the others! In the actual hunting of beluga individual spontaneity and opportunity are more pronounced than communal and organized planning. No sooner have whales been spotted than people rush down to their boats. And off they go. Even though the hunters recognize that some strategic planning pays off, this is mostly not done. Now and then, one or another of the hunters might try to get away, behaving as if he were going sealing, without telling others that he has seen whales. Only in the case when whales have been spotted by a small or large group of people and one of the hunters then has rushed off well in advance of the others might anger be expressed publicly, because the school of whales will be scattered, leaving the other hunters with few chances of success. This was what happened on a day in late April 1981. It was another warm and sunny morning when whales were observed some distance from the coast. Until that day, only one whale had been taken, and yet the hunters took their time. I expected that they would be leaving simultaneously, but suddenly a boat was seen rushing off well in advance of the others, leaving all the rest no choice but to join as fast as possible. Almost all the hunters went away that day. No organized common effort developed, and several hunting groups pursued their own quarry from the school of whales, which was scattered

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 81 by the hunter who had left in advance of the others. Soon, some hunters returned unsuccessful to the settlement and later others followed. Only seven boats resumed the pursuit and returned home six hours later with a single beluga in tow. Of these boats, three were outsiders and four were from Saqqaq; the 'dissident' hunter was not among them. What in the morning had looked like a promising concerted action ended with a very meagre return. Five days later the scene was repeated with another hunter as the guilty party. At least, this was the explanation given when the hunters returned from the southeast, empty-handed and with sour faces. . Like the above-mentioned rule, there is a similar tacit understanding that restricts sealing during the peak of beluga hunting. When the whole community is on the lookout for beluga, you are simply not supposed to go sealing, thus disturbing the whales with the noise from the outboard motor. In this case, individual inclination must give way to the common good. In the days or weeks before whales have been observed near the coast, and later after the peak season, hunters very often go sealing not too far from one another - in the hope of meeting a beluga. After some weeks, at the end of the beluga season, the traditional 'ban' on individual hunting is gradually abolished as people start longing more and more for seal meat. As the number of whales grows smaller, the hunters gradually resume hunting seals. Since the end of the 1980s, however, the pattern portrayed above seems to have changed. Beluga usually no longer migrate close to the shores of Saqqaq, and the hunters have to go far away from the community. Now, therefore, hunting of beluga is more often performed as an opportunity for boats that go sealing on their own or two boats hunting in the same area. The Sharing Institution The sharing of beluga mattak and meat immediately after a successful hunt reveals a great deal about the social structure of this small community. To illustrate, I describe what took place on an early spring day in 1981. Fourteen whales were harvested that day, and the hunters expressed feelings that reminded them of sassat. According to local standard, this was a noteworthy day and was even mentioned on the radio. With the exception of one family, I think hunters from all households participated in the battue.

82 Saqqaq The first whales were taken in early morning, and the rest about noon by hunting parties of varying composition. The second round took place east of the settlement in the small bay Kangerluarsuk, and could be followed by those of us who rushed there from the community. Twenty-two boats pursued a small pod and four whales were killed and retrieved. In the middle of the afternoon, after an hour of rest, the villagers assembled in the small ice-covered bay below Nuugaarsuk. Whereas in the morning the sky had been overcast, the sun was now shining and the feeling of spring emphasized the joy of a successful beluga hunt. The ice-covered bay was an ideal flensing ground, and very soon the first whales were hauled up on the ice, a process watched by a considerable part of the community. At one side of the bay, a single whale was being flensed separately, while three others - two huge whales and a small one - were being flensed at the other side of the ice. The separate flensing of the whales expressed the fact that the single whale belonged to one hunting party, while the three others were harvested by another hunting party. Only later did I realize that five boats made up the hunting party to share the single whale, while the three other whales belonged to a hunting party of twelve boats, of which three boats also were among the five boats to have shares in the single whale (see Fig. 2.1). At one end of the bay, the mattak from the single whale was piled, and similarly, at the other end, mattak from all three whales was heaped up in one single pile, expressing the fact that all three whales belonged to the same hunting party. Flensing beluga at the ice edge on a warm and sunny afternoon in early spring is a way of life. Afterwards, the anthropologist might specify the process as 'hunting/ 'sharing/ 'subsistence/ 'economy/ and so on, but these terms do not grasp the reality of an intense social and communal event. One of the hunters, Atiia, is cutting up the meat of a beluga while Pavia is cutting a strip of mattak from the tail; two of the other hunters are watching; Marius is eating some pieces of mattak. A few metres away some of the boys are helping to cut sheets of mattak from another beluga. Family members and boys have come to participate in the event. Looking forward to obtaining gifts of meat and mattak, some elders have come to assist. Behind the scenes, some men and women have gathered, chatting and smoking cigarettes. They are talking about the day's event, of which everybody is a part even though, as mentioned above, flensing and butchering are within the men's sphere of activity. In the case where the only active female hunter in the

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 83

Figure 2.1 The sharing of fourteen beluga among four hunting parties from Saqqaq made up of twenty-two participating boats (A-V)

84 Saqqaq settlement participated in the hunting, she was also in the flensing team. Now and then pieces of mattak are cut from the whales. According to tradition, everybody is allowed to cut mattak from the head of the whale. The extremity of the tail is cut away by the boat that towed the whale back to the settlement.5 So it is today and so it has 'always' been. The children are not the least active with their knives, as they cut pieces of mattak from the heads and strip the carcasses for meat. Along the spine huge slices of meat are usually left from the flensing, and those are cut by children and elders. Some of the children play with the penis of a huge male beluga and try to attract the attention of the anthropologist. It is a wonderful day. When the butchering has been completed, when meat and mattak have been piled in two heaps, the time has come for the sharing procedure to commence. The first step in this process is to determine the number of boats entitled to a share in this (these) specific whale(s). As mentioned above, the first whale to be hauled on the ice that afternoon was flensed separately. Five boats shared this single whale, and this case raised no problems concerning the number of participants, that is, boats, entitled to shares of mattak and meat. Simultaneously, at the opposite end of the bay, the three whales had been flensed, and mattak and meat placed in two separate piles. These three whales had been harvested by one large hunting party. No doubt about this - but which boats had participated? With an increased number of participating boats, the number of problems obviously multiplies. Each time several whales are harvested on the same day by miscellaneous hunting parties discussions arise about the harvesting of which whales by which boats. This afternoon, with fourteen whales to be shared by hunting parties of up to twentytwo boats, problems and discussions occur. By contrast, it is quite striking that when a single beluga is taken at the opening of the season, the hunters wear their nerves on the outside and the sharing is scrupulously done. As a matter of fact, comparatively few heated discussions occurred this afternoon. Now, let us return to the procedure. A number of hunters have 5 I have never heard of belugas being inflated in order to facilitate towing, but this is known from the Mackenzie Delta in Canada (see Inuvialuit Pitqusiit 1991: 28), and recently I interviewed old people from Prince William Sound, Alaska, who told me about it.

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 85 drifted towards the scattered piles of mattak and meat, while others continue with the flensing along the ice edge. People are chatting, playing with their knives, chewing mattak. After a while, one of the hunters comes forward asking the others to stand in a circle. At this moment the hunting leader (or maybe two leaders) reveals himself to an outside observer. Standing in the circle should be one representative from each participating boat. A large crowd of onlookers gathers behind the circle. Now a discussion arises because some of the hunters assert that one of the other hunters has no claim to a share, because, they say, he arrived when two (of the three) whales were already dead. A short, but not very heated discussion follows. Everybody knows the advantage of leaving one hunting unit as soon as a beluga is harpooned or wounded in order to join another hunting unit, thus aiming for as many hunting shares as possible. Therefore, a recurrent theme of debate is the question of when it is acceptable to leave a hunting party and still be entitled to a share, and when you may join an ongoing hunt and receive the right to a share. In this case, the matter is settled after a short time, leaving twelve entitled boats. When the matter of the number of shares has been settled, the mattak is piled in twelve equal shares under the discreet supervision of the informal hunting leader(s). To each pile goes the same number of regular sheets of mattak. In the end, some of the sheets are cut and evenly distributed. The hunters help one another, but in cases of doubt they obviously address one of the hunting leaders. No share should be treated unfairly. Finally, to each share are added equal pieces of flippers and tails. The latter practice varies, because tradition also says that the person who has harpooned a beluga (kapissisoq) is entitled to one flipper, and the one who towed the whale to the settlement (if the beluga was hunted at a distance from the community) to the other one. Furthermore, in some instances, the hunter who killed the animal could be given one of the flippers. The rules refer to the old tradition, but they are often dispensed with. The time has now come for the final sharing of the hunt, and, in a semicircle in front of the piles of mattak, one representative from each boat takes position, several of them obviously looking forward to the culmination of the day. From among the crews (see figure 2.2, an example with ten crews), two people (A and B) are selected to draw lots; both are facing the ten hunters, one (A) behind the piles of mattak and the other (B) between the piles of mattak and the ten hunters. The former, A, points at one of the piles of mattak and asks, 'Who is going to

86 Saqqaq

Figure 2.2 Sharing of meat and mattak among ten boats from Saqqaq

have this pile?' Then B, who cannot see which pile is indicated, selects one of the ten hunters. A points at another pile, B selects a new hunter and so on until all ten piles have been allocated. The atmosphere is both intense and relaxed, but all tensions are eased when the last lot has been drawn and the hunters rush to pick the pile allotted to each of them. The public show is over. Mattak is put in plastic tubs and loaded on sledges to be taken care of by the women. If a share is to be further divided among a boat's crew, that is their concern only. But, in fact, the process is not over, because now the same procedure is repeated with the meat from the three whales. The meat is piled in twelve heaps of equal size and lots are drawn. As in the autumn, I am struck by the relaxed atmosphere, and, compared to the distribution of mattak, the lenience with which the meat is divided. This clearly indi-

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 87 cates the lower economic and cultural value of meat compared to mattak. When the hunters have picked up their share of meat, they drift to the other end of the bay where eight whales are being flensed. Four of these eight belugas were harvested in Kangerluarsuk, east of the settlement. It was evident that not all those boats present in Kangerluarsuk had shares in all eight whales, but after some discussion, the four whales from Kangerluarsuk are pooled with the four others. Now, as representatives from all participating boats form a semicircle, it becomes apparent that no less than twenty-two boats are entitled to a share, the same number of boats that I had counted in Kangerluarsuk earlier in the day. Among the twenty-two crews is the old hunter mentioned earlier, who obviously had seemed to be in the way during the battue in Kangerluarsuk. Like no one else among the twenty-two, his face expressed undisguised happiness at being among the successful crews, which at his age is unusual. Then follows the sharing of mattak and meat, and finally the day's hunting activity comes to an end when the last whales are shared among four crews. Usually the intestines are carried away as required and used to feed the dogs, although I have observed, for example, that the kidneys have been shared with the meat. After a while, the bay is empty except for a few dogs and puppies in search of small pieces of meat. What meat the children have left on the carcasses is taken care of by the dogs. Only the blubber is left untouched. Small amounts are consumed with mattak and meat, but the bulk is left behind. A very productive and enjoyable day is over. Hunters, women, and children return to their houses loaded with meat, mattak, and a good experience. Some of the mattak and meat is consumed immediately, some is stored in the snow on the island, and some is taken the following day to be sold in Ilulissat and Qasigiannguit (Christianshab), the nearest towns. Finally, some mattak is stored in freezers, which most households have. Principles of Sharing and Leadership As a primary tradition in the beluga sharing institution in Saqqaq, the hunters keep very strictly to the rule that says that hunting shares are linked with the number of participating boats - regardless of size, number of people in the boat, or the role of individuals during the

88 Saqqaq hunt - one boat, one share. Thus a fishing vessel with a crew of four to six gets one share as does a small boat with only one or two people. The further division of the share among the crew is a matter of no communal concern and does not relate to the public process of sharing. The rule of one boat, one share is a local tradition, used nowadays in an attempt to keep shrimp vessels away from Ilulissat, or at least to minimize their share of a day's communal catch. The effort is, however, to a large extent in vain, because fishing vessels from Ilulissat arrive in increasing numbers each year. Apparently, the customary rule in Saqqaq also applies in other settlements of Northwest Greenland (Hertz 1977: 94; Brochmann 1992: 187) but deviates from the tradition, for example, in Ilulissat. As tradition has developed in that town, a fishing vessel receives more hunting shares than a boat with an outboard motor. But, when these fishing vessels come north and participate in a communal hunt with hunters from Saqqaq, operating within the - undefined - hunting territory of the Saqqarmiut, then the local tradition is enforced upon them. As a counter-measure, the fishing vessels take up positions at distances from Saqqaq that make it more difficult for the small boats from Saqqaq to participate. The consequence is that whales are often intercepted before they arrive within the smaller boats' operating distance from the settlement. When whales are flensed and the sharing takes place within or close to the community, the event becomes a community-wide or collective affair. In this case, the customary rules are different from those that prevail when the whale is shared at a site far from the community. In the days of kayak hunting, the community had the right to a hunting share when the whale was taken to the settlement, but this was usually not the case when the whale was retrieved and shared at a far-away location.6 To enforce their communal rights, people have always pressed for taking the animals back to the village. Sticking to the local tradition is not only to exclude outsiders, but more important, to exclude the large fishing vessels. The Saqqarmiut consider beluga hunting to be a traditional activity with strong roots in history. It should remain within the hunters' domain. Thus, hunting beluga (and narwhal) is an essential part of an identity that pertains to 6 From East Greenland, Cunera Buijs writes that 'when a narwhal is brought in pieces to a village, no one has any right to the communal share; this was the case in earlier times, as well' (1993: 126).

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 89 the hunter and to the community. It is a way of life. In an economic sense, hunting beluga is of great strategic significance, but merely to stress its position as an element of trade would be to disregard the large extent to which the egalitarianism (equal opportunity, cf. Flanagan 1989: 248) of local hunting traditions is being maintained. A lot can be learned from the management of the rules, and from the exceptions, such as in the case already mentioned of the old hunter receiving an extra-large share. The rule is that each whale 'belongs to' a specific hunting group, but the case of several hunting groups pursuing whales at the same time in the same geographical surroundings often gives rise to problems and discussions. As already mentioned, the response might be that all participating boats share all whales, thus preventing those who had tried to shift from one group to another from harvesting the fruits of that unsocial strategy. The small sound below Saqqaq, between the island and the settlement, is an ideal place for tracking down beluga. If the hunters succeed in common - which, however, is most often not the case - a school of whales is chased into the sound only to be trapped by the boats cutting off each outlet. Furthermore, from land, high above the water, the whales are easily spotted and shot at. The first time I observed this, two land-based hunters had a decisive influence on the killing of a beluga, and each of them received a hunting share. This did not proceed without a heated discussion, however, because literally only boats have rights to hunting shares. Shortly after that incident, two whales were killed and retrieved due to effective support from five land-based hunters. With ill-concealed dissatisfaction, those five hunters received one hunting share to be divided among them. The other hunters asserted that those from land were entitled to one share on a par with a boat. In anger, one of the land-based hunters left without taking his fifth of the share. In a community like Saqqaq, where the hunting and sharing of beluga is covered by customary rules, the position of the informal hunting leader is of extreme importance. His integrity and his ability to be above conflicts dividing the community are prerequisites for his authority (for a discussion of this problem, see also Dahl 1985). I have observed a few cases in which a hunter left before the sharing took place. In one case, a hunter returned to the ice edge when the sharing was finished, took his share and went home. The same day another hunter did not show up at all, but his share was put in a plastic tub and later picked up by his wife. In one case, twenty-one boats were

90 Saqqaq sharing five whales, but the first one was flensed separately to be shared by only eighteen boats. Suddenly, after the mattak was shared, someone remembered Jonathan, who had participated but, because of shyness or absent-mindedness, had disappeared into the crowd. Everybody laughed and a totally confused Jonathan came to the scene and took an enormous piece of meat. I supposed he felt obliged at least to do something - and now the crowd was nearly dying of laughter. As mentioned previously, it was only in the autumn when darkness comes early that complaints about irregularities in the sharing procedure were raised. This smoothness is only possible because a tacit understanding exists on how to reach a fair solution. The most problematic part of the whole process is the decision on who has the right to a hunting share. The existence and authority of an informal hunting leader reveals itself nowhere more conspicuously than in those cases in which a hunter not possessing the requisite qualifications gives his opinion in an impetuous and aggressive manner, as in the following example. It was one of those days when quarrels were unavoidable. There were too many boats, and only a few whales were retrieved. One whale had already been flensed, and the issue of the number of hunting shares was to be resolved. One of the hunters came forward and, with a loud and aggressive voice, gave his opinion on who was and was not entitled to a share. A lot of quarrels arose, but somehow people seemed to enjoy the scene. During the long and heated discussion, two of the hunters now and then intervened and quietly gave their opinion, only to be interrupted by the hunter who had started the discussion. In the end, it was the viewpoint of the two quieter hunters that was 'accepted/ and the hunter who had tried to set the scene left with a great smile and began to flense the next whale. Half an hour later the scene was repeated, but late in the afternoon disagreements gave rise to much more anger and quarrelling. This time the outcome was that mattak from two whales was pooled and so was the meat. The ability to make decisions and to exercise authority, not from institutionalized leadership, but from mutual and often silent agreement, is the sign of a piniartorsuaq, which is illustrated by the following event. It is a cold afternoon in May. Around four o'clock whales are observed to the west of the settlement and twenty-one boats rush off. Of these, eight are from outside the community. The sea is dead calm, but the boats return two hours later with only a single beluga in tow.

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 91 Nobody is in a rush, and the flensing is delayed until eight o'clock. The sun is in the sky, the temperature slightly below freezing, and many people come together at the tip of Nuugaarsuk. We all enjoy the moment, chatting, gossiping, and looking down at the beluga in the water. After a long while, Marius rises slowly and lazily, heading for the water line. Then, gradually, the others start moving, and soon the flensing and butchering take place. When that is done, Marius divides the mattak into twenty-one shares. When he suddenly gives the sign that each participant can take a share and thus dispense with the customary drawing of lots, this is accepted by the others. Obviously, the piles are so small that a formal sharing procedure has no meaning. When someone takes the initiative to divide the meat, Marius shakes his head in resignation, and as one of the others then takes a piece of meat, the rest follow this initiative. Hunting, flensing, and sharing of beluga is a collective and public activity - the arena is the community. It is supervized by everyone in the community, a factor also observed and noted from Ammassalik district in East Greenland (Robbe 1975). It also includes an extended form of cooperation among the hunters, and during these activities, authority is exercised and reproduced. The beluga complex is the domain par excellence of the hunter or hunters of influence and authority. This is where the position of the informal leader is confirmed, reproduced, and maybe also generated. Being the most important public activity, hunting and sharing beluga becomes a decisive forum for securing a cohesive and legitimate authority structure for the community. However, the authority can only be upheld if there are opportunities in which it can be exercised. Not having this opportunity implies the erosion of communal authority and a subsequent disintegration of the community. And there z's an erosion of 'traditional' communal authority taking place in these years. The significance of beluga hunting is therefore not only a matter of economy or subsistence, but a matter of cultural and political cohesiveness of a small community. Those hunters who have authority in these matters are usually not as successful in hunting as some of the younger hunters. The statistics show that the latter often - or usually - catch more seals, sell more fish, and are more hard-working than the piniartorsuaq. However industrious they are, they lack the authority of older hunters who perhaps have their most productive years behind them. To be an acting piniartorsuaq implies having accumulated hunting skills. Thus, to have authority in these matters requires a combination of

92 Saqqaq personal qualities, like generosity and personal integrity, and hunting skills accumulated over years - generated and reproduced in practice. We see that age and experience are conditions of authority, which yet contains the germ of its own destruction. To be a hunting leader means to be an acting hunting leader. There is no institutionalization of authority and no gerontocracy. Aging hunters are listened to, but they do not exercise authority as leaders of the hunt. Hunting authority is supported by history, by tradition. Even these days when authority and power are exercised by politicians, bureaucrats, trade managers, teachers, etc., hunting constitutes its own sphere of authority. This does not mean that authority remains unaffected by outside influence, but it points to a development in which an everchanging sphere of hunting authority is sustained. The fact that in Saqqaq authority and expertise within one sphere of society is not automatically transferable to another sphere or institutionalized is in accordance with observations concerning leadership in (other) band-organized societies (Silberbauer 1982: 29). On the other hand, the introduction of fishing vessels owned by hunters in Saqqaq (since the late 1980s, three small fishing vessels have been owned by Saqqarmiut) will have an impact on the equality of ownership of the means of production and thus the exercise of authority (see also R. Petersen 1970). Furthermore, globalization of hunting regulations and resource exploitation will tend to institutionalize authority. In a general sense, the latter tendency contradicts the traditional way of making decisions related to hunting activities, which relies on empirical knowledge and personal competence rather than ownership of means of production, status positions, or education. The traditional way is authoritative rather than authoritarian (Silberbauer 1982: 29). The public nature of the beluga hunting complex indicates, or presumes, a high degree of consensus. In this sense, it is in contrast to the decision-making process as this takes place in closed forums and assemblies such as political parties. From Kayaks to Outboard Motors The ear-splitting noise from today's hunting seems quite different from what is described in the following account by an old Saqqarmioq, dating to the early 1950s, when hunting from kayaks was prevalent. It was June 13. We had many visitors in our house, as we celebrated that my son had got his first kittiwake. We know, naturally, that the belugas

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 93 had migrated north long ago. Usually the last whale should pass Saqqaq June 5 or 6. Nobody had beluga in their minds. But we had forgotten that, some time ago, killer whales drove a school of whales to the glacier fiord. We thought no more of this when our feast was in full swing. Look, in those days we only had kayakers in Saqqaq. About thirty-five hunters altogether. Suddenly, in the middle of our feast someone caught sight of a huge school of beluga passing northward along the shore. All the hunters rushed from the party down to their kayaks, and then it did not last long before we heard this lovely signal: eeehh ... eeehh ... eeehh, as the hunters say through the kayak paddle down in the water. Long intervals between these sounds means "I have good hunting, come and help me!" In contrast: eh, eh, eh, in quick succession says, "Hurry, help me, I am drowning!" The hunters were already far away, but the signal came distinctly through, so that, being inside our house we heard the sound being transmitted through the floor. This day no less then seven big whales were harvested. Summer was approaching and they had yellowish mattak because they had started casting off the old skin.

A similar account, which stresses the need for cooperation, was given by Aron Kristiansen from Ilulissat and Johan Henningsen from Uummannaq (recorded in the early 1920s): '[when you have harpooned the beluga] ... and the hunting float has not yet emerged you should utter three long cries "ek," "ek," "ek" at convenient intervals. If shouting with too short intervals you will alarm the other kayakers too much, because they will believe that you are drowning. If you, however, make suitable intervals between the shouts, they will understand the message, be glad, and row to meet you' (K. Hansen 1971: 139). In a small community like Saqqaq, the collectivity of the beluga hunt has always reigned. It is and was the concern of all. This also holds true in relation to the sharing institution, although it has changed significantly. The necessity of cooperating in the hunting of beluga remains today maybe to an even larger extent than was the case in the days of hunting from kayaks. If we take a look at the sharing institution in a diachronic perspective, it is evident that a change has taken place from allocating hunting shares according to the role of each hunter (when hunting took place from a kayak) to participation as the main criterion (Saqqaq today). The tradition of sharing as it was practised in the days of kayak hunting was abolished when boats with outboard motors gained ground

94 Saqqaq in Saqqaq. In some settlements to the north of Disko Bay it still exists in a less modified manner than in Saqqaq. The sharing procedure and the sharing rules related to the hunting of beluga from kayaks were called ningeq (ningerneq) in Greenlandic. This concept is usually no longer applied to the sharing process today, and people refer to ningerneq as the way of the 'old days/ when each whale was divided according to the rules described below. The concept or verb used today is agguarpoq, which designates sharing in a more general sense. However, when sharing of beluga is called for, the hunters very often just ask everyone 'to meet/ Each share is called agguaqqat and those who have the right to a share agguartut. In East Greenland, ningeq was similarly used about 'the game captured in the course of a collective hunt and divided among those participating in the hunt' (Buijs 1993:117). As in Saqqaq, the ningeq type of sharing did not include individual gifts of meat. On Baffin Island, Canada, the concept of ningeq is used more broadly to denote sharing within the community (Wenzel nd) and is more related to meat giving than strictly to sharing the catch; the term ningiqtuq denotes a modern development of the old tradition, which now includes a wide distribution of resources within the community (Wenzel 1995). Robert Petersen (1997) has also indicated that the concept sometimes is used in a wider sense in Greenland, and from a settlement in Upernavik district Nuttall writes that ningeq is 'the distribution of catch shares from large sea mammals such as whales, walrus and bearded seals' (Nuttall 1991: 219). Thus he does not separate the sharing from the meat giving, but he considers sharing to be a more comprehensive concept that includes giving of meat gifts. A 'meat gift' is a cultural institution that includes the giving of any type of food. The old hunters still tell about how whales were shared in the 'old days.' In Saqqaq the mattak and meat were shared as shown in figure 2.3, an example with one beluga harvested by four hunters.7 The first hunter to harpoon the beluga ('the hunter') was entitled to shares (1). Usually 'the hunter' would allow people who came down to receive him when he returned from the hunt to cut mattak from the foremost section of the animal. The first hunter coming to his aid would receive mattak and blubber 7 The information on this matter is gathered from personal interviews with old hunters and confirmed by information gathered by NEUG, the Danish National Museum's Ethnographical Investigations in the early 1950s.

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 95

Belly

Back

Figure 2.3 Sharing of a beluga taken by four kayak hunters from Saqqaq

behind the flippers (2), called napuppoq. The second hunter coming to help would receive shares (3), the upper part of the back called qajaassaq, and the third helper would receive the flippers (4), called taleqquppoq. Share (5) belonged to 'the hunter/ who would give the mattak to all households in the community, but keep the blubber for himself (this share is called ammarlarsuit). There were an endless number of variations, according to the number of hunters participating, the number of whales taken, and the mood of the hunter(s). According to the memory of the old hunters, the way of sharing also had its variations from Saqqaq to other communities. It might also vary according to what the hunters meant by 'old days/ To one hunter this may be the 1950s, but another hunter might be referring to the 1940s.

96 Saqqaq Comparing with beluga sharing of recent days, the system as it was practised when kayaks were used had a few outstanding characteristics. The first, which has been mentioned, is that the role of the hunter during the hunt determined the exact share given to him. Second, there was a marked delineation between 'the hunter' and his 'helpers/ Third, the community as a whole received a share. This communal distribution or consumption seems to have had a long tradition along the coast of West Greenland. It was mentioned by Hans Egede Saabye from the 1770s (Saabye 1942: 42), and was still known in the region until recent times (Rosendahl 1967: 61). The former settlement manager, Hannibal Fencker, recounted that he 'once was so lucky as to catch three belugas. And there was happiness in the settlement, because there was enough for everyone. We kept one beluga ourselves. Those who helped to tow, shared the second, and the remaining thirty-four homes in Saqqaq shared the third whale' (Fencker 1984). The fact that the community had the right to a share of the catch emphasizes the collective aspect associated with beluga hunting (and the hunting of large seals). Hunting as such is a community-based activity and the sharing therefore includes the community as a 'helper' in the hunt. The collectivity might take other forms, such as in Upernavik (Nuttall 1991: 219f) when a person makes a claim on the catch by helping or touching the animal when it is hauled on land; but I have not observed this custom in relation to collective beluga hunting in Saqqaq. Still, it might influence the meat giving, which always follows the sharing, but the meat and mattak giving involves households and personal relationships. By the distribution of gifts of meat from seals or whales to other households in the community, the collectivity of social relations is reinforced. In the beluga hunting complex, exchange of meat and mattak follows the sharing process. Today's sharing procedures, as an integral part of the hunting process, reflect the collectivity of the hunting and not the relations governing the exchange of meat and mattak. A detailed account of the sharing process not only confirms this, but, moreover, makes the contrast to former days' sharing obvious. It is very important to keep separate the sharing institution from the distribution of meat and mattak, the gift giving. Meat and mattak were and are given by hunters to specific people immediately after the sharing or later. This is one of the most important institutions in the community and is discussed in chapter 6. When boats and outboard motors were introduced, the tradition by which all houses were entitled to a

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 97 hunting share was gradually abandoned, but gifts of meat and mattak are still given, of course. One could say that the case mentioned by Hannibal Fencker is a late case of the community receiving a share (he had a motor boat); the many examples mentioned earlier, when those who participated in running down a few belugas from a land position only reluctantly were given a share, underscore the change. The sharing institution has changed, but it still includes a collective or communal aspect. The developmental trend of beluga hunting in Saqqaq is in accordance with a general sketch given by Robert Petersen (1972: 286). 'Where the traditional way of hunting is concerned we can classify the Greenlandic as individual in acquisition but social in consumption, although in principle the latter is likewise subject to individual or familial ownership. But with the application of the motorboat to hunting we can probably anticipate only pooled sharing or collective acquisition while consumption becomes more and more individualized and is limited to the immediate family circle.' Thus, in former times hunting was often more individual and distribution more collective, whereas today the hunting proper seems more based on cooperation, but with far less communal distribution. According to Richard B. Lee (1981: 15), in societies based on hunting, fishing, and gathering (called 'foraging mode of production'), a primary feature is the collective distribution and consumption of food. He too notices (ibid: 16ff) the breakdown specifically of the communal sharing system when those societies are changed by exogenous factors. In this section I have stressed, in a diachronic perspective, the communal and public aspects of beluga hunting and its role in producing and reproducing community-wide social relations, solidarity, and cohesion. A focal point in the analyses has been the significance of beluga hunting to the viability of the small settlement as a coherent community. This significance is further emphasized by the ideological and symbolic value assigned to beluga hunting by the Saqqarmiut themselves. Customary Rules under Pressure I have drawn attention to the fact that traditional rules say that hunting of beluga is open to everybody. Today, the only condition is that the participants have either a commercial or non-commercial certificate (for some years the terms 'full-time hunters' and 'part-time hunters' were used), that is, hunting or fishing is their main activity or a secondary source of income.

98 Saqqaq In the perspective of the historical tradition, we can trace a continuous evolution of non-exclusive communal use rights from precolonial/early colonial days up to the present. Usufruct rights are no longer vested in the community, neither de jure nor de facto. There is, as a matter of fact, a far-ranging tendency towards disintegration of community-based hunting rights and customary rules in favour of generalized rights based on belonging to the Greenlandic nation and fulfilling certain professional and non-geographical criteria to be dealt with in later chapters. The hunters of Saqqaq try to enforce their own traditional rules and, as is made clear below, in the sharing institution they were quite successful for years. But in general and in a future sense, the traditional rules are insufficient to cope with the globalization of each and every corner of the world and even of this 'remote' settlement. And the hunters know it. Today, all hunting regulations are issued by the Home Rule government. Within the general framework established from Nuuk, some municipalities have issued by-laws to further regulate hunting of beluga. Thus, in Uummannaq and Upernavik, by-laws were issued stipulating that hunting of beluga was allowed only with boats of thirty feet or less, thus excluding most shrimp-fishing vessels from Ilulissat and other towns (Municipal by-law Uummannaq 4 Nov. 1986; Municipal by-law Upernavik 26 Sept. 1979). The Upernavik by-law further states that 'from 15 September until 15 December all hunting of beluga and narwhal in the municipality of Upernavik shall be pursued in the form of communal (collective) hunts, due notice having been given' (section 1). Within Ilulissat municipality, customary law applies, but it is worth noticing that traditional practices vary from community to community and the customary rules in Saqqaq do not necessarily apply in Ilulissat town, or vice versa. But even in regions where municipal by-laws exist, it is stressed that customary rules should be observed. The hunting activities of fishing vessels from Ilulissat have raised particular concern in Saqqaq. They often arrive at the settlement in the evening and leave very early in the morning at dawn, not waiting for the Saqqarmiut. The latter protest and blame the fishing vessels for the fact that fewer whales migrate along Nuussuaq peninsula today. Similar complaints have been made by hunters from Upernavik district, who say that the noise from motor boats (their own and those of outsiders) have pushed the migration routes of the whales farther off the coast (Nuttall 1992: 35). In the late 1980s, the number of non-local

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 99 fishing vessels in Saqqaq increased during the beluga seasons, which is given as the explanation why the migrating whales take to the coast of Disko Island. Thus complain the hunters from Saqqaq, who, with their small boats, have a more limited area of operation. This viewpoint has recently been confirmed in interviews with hunters from Saqqaq and Ilulissat (M.L. Thomsen 1993:10). The new Home Rule instruction from 1995 as amended in February 1996 concerning hunting of beluga and narwhal stipulates that those with boats larger than 25 gross register tonnage can hunt only for their home consumption, and users of boats of more than 50 tons can take only two narwhals or belugas each trip. Boats larger than 80 tons cannot be used to hunt these mammals at all, and no boat larger than 25 tons can function as supply boat for minor boats. The implications of this instruction are still unknown, but it is unlikely that it will lead to a sustainable harvesting level since so many boats are allowed to participate and there are very few means to control their activities. Sustainability was given as the main reason for adopting the instruction, but it can hardly escape observation that many political decision-makers are owners of or have vested interests in these larger boats. Whatever explanation is given, according to biologists it is a fact that the numbers of beluga and narwhal along the West Greenlandic coast have seriously decreased, and restrictions have to be made. On the one hand, the Saqqarmiut would like to restrict hunting of beluga in the northern part of Disko Bay to their own people. On the other hand - who are the Saqqarmiut? The family that moved two years ago to stay in Ilulissat, but returns during the summer - what about them? The brother of a Saqqarmioq, who was raised in Saqqaq and who continues to consider himself a Saqqarmioq? Is he a Saqqarmioq when he stays in Saqqag but not while living in Ilulissat? These questions cannot be answered easily. Nevertheless, the necessity of making some regulations is evident, and the Saqqarmiut know they have to go further than customary rules permit. Even though industrialized fishing and international law to a continually increasing extent encroach upon - and change - local traditions, customary rule is still a main regulating factor; this is beneficial because traditions have changed without hunters losing control (see chapter 7), but is a weakness in that the ecological setting today is a global setting, and also because of the enlarging political arena in which Home Rule authorities, Greenpeace, and others have a say. This is fully

100 Saqqaq illustrated by the powerlessness of Saqqarmiut vis-a-vis the harvesting activities carried out by what are seen as intruding fishing vessels from Ilulissat and other towns. No information available to me indicates that more whales are taken as a result of an increased number of participants operating from the settlement. It rather seems that as more people gather in Saqqaq during the beluga season, the number of boats in each hunting unit increases. For example, if the total number of whales taken in the northern part of Disko Bay increases, it is due to the large number of fishing vessels operating to the north in Vaigat and along the Disko Island - outside the range of the small boats from Saqqaq. In Disko Bay, municipal by-laws have not been used to regulate beluga hunting, but a by-law from 1980 excludes fishing vessels from shrimp trawling in the northern part of the bay from 1 April to 31 May and during the nights from 1 October to 30 November. The motion in the municipal council originated with the member from Saqqaq, the intention being to keep shrimp vessels from the area during the beluga season. However, as years pass, the attraction of beluga seems more and more to surpass a limited ban on shrimp fishing. The ban on shrimp trawling seems to be an incentive for some of the fishing boats to go beluga hunting. Neither local traditions nor municipal by-laws exclude anyone from participating in beluga hunting. In contrast to traditional rules of early colonial and pre-colonial days, no community today is surrounded by what could be labelled a proper hunting territory. 'In earlier days each settlement was surrounded by a hunting area within which in principle everyone is allowed to hunt where he will, but the distribution of settlements has to some degree entailed that it is not desirable just to do so ... Everyone living in a settlement is allowed to hunt in its hunting area. This also applies for visitors, so long as they stay there' (R. Petersen 1965:115). This has changed, however, and consequently Saqqarmiut cannot prevent outsiders from taking part in the hunt, thus exposing the harvesting to increased pressure. In the issuance of municipal by-laws, no discrimination is allowed between hunters - neither between hunters from within the municipality nor between these and hunters from outside (Granlands Hjemmestyre 1994: 26). Over time, municipal bylaws and local customary rules have lost terrain to laws and regulations issued by the national authorities in Nuuk, a theme to be further dealt with in chapter 9.

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 101 Before proceeding to the economic significance of beluga hunting, I mention next the harvesting of belugas and narwhals when these are caught after having been trapped by the ice - the so-called sassats. Sassat During winter, it sometimes happens that a school of whales is cut off from open water and thus trapped in a polynia, or in a lead that is being kept open by the whales themselves. Belugas and narwhals thus trapped are easy quarry for the hunters and in a sassat hundreds of whales are sometimes killed. I have never personally experienced a sassat, but there are numerous accounts of sassats from Disko Bay. In a sassat near Qeqertarsuaq in April 1988, a few hundred whales were retrieved, but during the past fifteen to twenty years a sassat has only once (1984) been reported from an area within easy operating distance from Saqqaq. Hunters will travel over long distances to take part in such a hunt. There was a sassat near Disko Island off Qeqertarsuaq in 1982, but because of an occurrence of rabies, the hunters from Saqqaq were not allowed to leave the settlement with their dogs. In 1990 there was an enormous sassat near Ilulissat and hunters joined from all over Disko Bay, including Saqqaq and as far away as Uummannaq. More than one thousand whales are presumed to have been taken (A/G no. 14 and 15, 1990). I have no information about how many whales were retrieved by the hunters from Saqqaq, but from the amount of mattak that was sold to The Trade in Saqqaq, I estimate the number to have been between seventy and one hundred. The sassat in 1990 was one of three famous sassats of this century in the Disko Bay region. The others took place near Qeqertarsuaq in 191415 and northwest of Saqqaq in 1955. Sassats are great events and give rise to heated debates on hunting methods, participation, and distribution of meat and mattak from harvested whales. Sassats occur when a sudden freeze-up traps the whales and hinders them from escaping towards the sea. When a sassat is discovered the rumours spread rapidly along the coast. Today, the rules say that the nearest communities should be warned immediately and the Hunter's and Fishermen's Organization should appoint a leader (captain) of the hunt. This is in accordance with the old tradition that stipulated that when a sassat was discovered the nearest community was notified and that community paid the messenger according to what he might have lost during his absence from the sassat (Oldendow 1935: 274). Thus, in

102 Saqqaq 1931, the communal council in Ujarasussuk suggested to the inspector in Qeqertarsuaq that a reward be given to a person who found a sassat. Again, in 1935, the communal council in Qullissat gave twenty crowns to Jacob Karlsen, who found a sassat, and ten crowns to Tobias Lukassen, who brought the message. The disposition by the communal council was later endorsed by the inspector.8 In January 1955, a sudden freeze-up had created all the conditions for a sassat. As reported by Golodnoff (1955; 1956), the first whales were taken near Saqqaq and a few days later a huge number of whales was observed in a narrow lead in the southern end of Vaigat, west of Saqqaq. Over the next two weeks, hundreds of sledges came from all over Disko Bay and from Uummannaq. The lead was so narrow that the hunters could touch the whales when they emerged to breathe. There was no escape for the whales and even after the hunt was over people used mirrors under the ice to find whales that had been killed but not retrieved. One source has given an estimate of three thousand whales being harvested in that sassat (Dege 1964:159). Other sources tell of two thousand or thousands of killed and retrieved whales (A/G 24 Feb. and 5 May 1955; Hannibal Fencker 1981). One of the hunters from Saqqaq who was interviewed on Greenland Radio recalled the size of the sassat in this way. The rest of the year we hunted whales that were entrapped by the ice ... There were so many whales entrapped, and we have never since harvested so many whales from Saqqaq, and it is still remembered' (Isak Jensen 1981). Whatever is the exact number, the first-hand account given by Golodnoff, who was a participant, clearly indicates that it was a very significant sassat, comparable to the sassat in 1915. The location of that sassat was east of Skansen, a now abandoned settlement on the southeast coast of Disko Island. 'Late in the evening of 10 February, a hunter came running home to Godhavn to announce that one of the skilled hunters from Skansen, Ludvig Geisler, had found an enormous sassat. Everybody with a sledge or young people was leaving shortly after midnight ... After twenty kilometres of driving they turned to the ice and drove about ten kilometres until they reached the lead, which a few days earlier had been eight kilometres long and a few hundred metres wide. Now there was an endless number of breathing holes and the hunters took to those not yet occupied' (from an account given by Rosendahl 1967: 291). The hunters came from all over Disko Bay and Uummannaq district several hundred kilometres away, 8 Granlands Nationalmuseum og Arkiv, Landsfogeden i Nord Grenland. Sager vedr. Qullissat/Ritenbenk. A01.02; 04.22, pk.16.

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 103 and an estimated number of one thousand narwhals were killed (Porsild 1918: 52). The way the hunt took place was heavily criticized and gave rise to a debate on the rules and regulations during a sassat. Porsild, a Danish scientist living in Qeqertarsuaq, has given a detailed account of that sassat. According to him, the hunt was completely unorganized, and he gives an account of a young, skilled, unmarried hunter from Qeqertarsuaq who participated in the first day's hunt. The second day this hunter shot five narwhal males, took the teeth, and dumped the rest. In this, as in most other sassats, there is no rescue for the whales, but the lack of organization suggests that the killed whales are not retrieved, so that they are left for sharks to eat instead of being taken by human beings. In this case, rotten animals and carcasses were seen several months after the sassat, which took place in February. The sassat in 1990 also raised debate about hunting and retrieval methods. This time there were owners of snowmobiles who wanted to use these to retrieve the carcasses (which was against the municipal bylaws), a proposal severely opposed by the municipal authorities (Iluliarmioq, 28 Feb. 1990). This contributed to a renewed debate on the general rules and regulations concerning hunting of beluga and narwhal and led to the adoption in the Home Rule Parliament of general instructions (Gr0nlands Hjemmestyre 1992). The instructions concerning sassats are written in section 6 as follows: 1 When a sassat is localized this is to be reported as soon as possible, by VHP-radio in the event one is in use, to relevant settlements/ towns. 2 The local KNAPP shall appoint the responsible (captain). The captain is responsible for reporting according to section 8.1. 3 The killing must take place as quickly and efficiently as possible. The flensing must take place as soon as the whale has been retrieved onto the ice. 4 The participants are not allowed to hunt more animals than they are capable of carrying away by sledge immediately after the sassat, in accordance with section 4.2. 5 Before leaving the location of the sassat, the participants are responsible for removing all parts that cannot be used by humans or dogs. 6 Marked portions of meat, mattak, and blubber and moored animals must not be removed without the consent of the owner, unless municipal authorities, considering the weather situation, have given a time limit for the removal of the catch and this date has been surpassed.

104 Saqqaq Section 6.2 was removed in the revised instructions of 1993 (Granlands Hjemmestyre 1993a). The debate on sassats has sometimes arisen because observers from outside, mainly Danes, are offended by the large number of animals killed and the seeming waste of meat and blubber. This is sometimes interpreted as unnecessary killing of innocent animals. It should not be forgotten, however, that whales trapped by the ice have little or no chance to survive. The sassat only shortens their struggle against death. The real problem is to make sure that the hunters do their job as efficiently as possible, that is, that they take all precautions to retrieve the killed animals. This matter has been debated several times in the Provincial Council (before 1979), in the municipal councils, and by Home Rule authorities. The hunters from Saqqaq participated in the sassat in 1984, in which they took a small number of animals. About two hundred were reported to have been harvested (Iluliarmioq, 2 Feb. 1984). As mentioned above, a large number were taken by hunters from Saqqaq during the 1990 sassat. The occurrence of a sassat has always given an enormous economic and nutritional boost to the communities affected. It is not my intention to enter a discussion on factors of the substitute value of beluga meat and mattak, but it is worth stressing that these hunting products, and not least the mattak, are of very high nutritional quality - so much that in the 'old days' the availability of meat, blubber, and mattak from beluga accounted for a periodically high nutritional standard, such as was the case in Saqqaq in 1955 (A/G 24 March 1955) and during World War II. In 1931, the communal councils in Ujarasussuk and Saqqaq also credited a sassat with the good health conditions in the two places. Economic Aspects of Beluga Hunting The harvesting of beluga has a commercial as well as a non-commercial aspect. In the other intensive foraging activity of the Saqqarmiut, ammassat (capelin) fishing (see chapter 3), the commercial aspect is by far the more important. However, as a household-based activity, ammassat fishing differs significantly from the collective, community-based beluga hunting. Besides being a subsistence activity with essential functions in the reproduction of community-oriented relationships, beluga hunting is also a strategic activity. This means that to some households in some

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 105 TABLE 2.3 Beluga and narwhal sassats in the northern Disko Bay and Vaigat regions, in which hunters from Saqqaq are presumed to have participated (those for which accounts are available). Year

Numbers

Location

Source

1899 1899 1915 1915 1919 1931 1933 1935 1939 1943 1945 1945 1951 1952 1955 1967 1968 1969 1970 1970 1970 1982 1984 1988 1990

? 80 1,000

Qeqertaq Ritenbenk Skansen Ritenbenk ? Qullissat Ritenbenk Qullissat Manillat Qullissat-Ujarasussuk Ujarasussuk Tartunaq Vaigat Aammaruutissat Vaigat Tartunaq Qullissat Saqqaq Saqqaq Disko Bay Qullissat Qeqertarsuaq Marraat/Saqqaq Disko Ilulissat-Disko

Forstanderskaberne B&K; Siegstad Porsild Porsild Communal Council2 Communal Council3 B&K; Siegstad B&K; Siegstad Telegram4 A/G; Telegram5 Telegram6 Telegram;7 Siegstad Golodnoff; Siegstad Siegstad Golodnoff; Fencker; A/G Siegstad Berliner; Siegstad Siegstad Siegstad A/G; Siegstad Siegstad pers. comm.; Siegstad pers. comm.; lluliarmioq A/G; Siegstad A/G; Siegstad

25 ?[61]1 200

100 100 200 350 100 100 250 450 2,000-3,00( 34 400-600 7

100 340-1000 50 50-200 200 100-300

500-1,000

1 The number in square brackets is the number of whales retrieved by Saqqarmiut. 2 Minutes from Saqqaq communal council meeting, 31 January 1919. 3 The minutes from Ujarasussuk Communal Council (15 April 1931) note that 187 were taken from this settlement and from a meeting in Saqqaq Communal Council it was stated that Saqqarmiut also benefited from the sassat. 4 From a telegram from the trade manager, Gising, in Qullissat (dated 31 March 1939) and from other sources (The Greenland National Museum and Archive, Inspekt0ren for Nordgronland A01.02, 04.22, pk.16), it appears that the sassat near Manillat (25 km north of Qullissat) lasted about two weeks (from 14-27 March 1939). 154 belugas, a number of narwhals, and 11 walruses were taken. There is no information about the role of Saqqarmiut. 5 A telegram from Qullissat to the inspector of North Greenland says that 54% of the animals taken were narwhals. The sassat took place 16-17 March 1943 about 20 km east-southeast of Qullissat. 6 A telegram from Qullissat to the inspector of North Greenland indicates about 100 belugas and narwhals were killed 27-28 February 1945. 7 A telegram from Qullisat to the inspector of North Greenland indicates that after the sassat at Ujarasussuk, this sassat took place at Tartunaq, an outpost to Saqqaq.

106 Saqqaq years beluga hunting is of great economic value, and its economic value is used strategically. Dealing with the strategic aspect of this intensive harvesting activity, reference is made to both the ecological exploitation of a natural resource and to the level of social relations. Thus, the outstanding economic position of beluga hunting - as a strategic resource harvesting relates to the ability of households to organize their use of meat and mattak in accordance with their needs. As a greatly appreciated delicacy, mattak is easily sold at high prices on the informal market in Ilulissat, and in recent years, it has also been bought by the fish plant in Saqqaq. Meat is sold at much lower prices and in smaller quantities. Beluga hunting is neither a subsistence nor a commercial activity as such, but for some households under some circumstances products from beluga hunting are utilized in a commercial sense. For other households under other circumstances the reproductive aspects of beluga harvesting predominate. The overall economic position of beluga hunting and its role as a factor to be used strategically by households is easily understood when its commercial value is compared with other hunting and fishing activities. In 1980-1, the hunters from Saqqaq were involved in the harvesting of approximately seventy-nine belugas (the number is fairly accurate). Forty-one were taken in the autumn and thirty-eight in the spring (to this must be added one narwhal without a tusk taken in late winter). Since we were on the spot in most cases, we were able to observe who participated in each hunt, how many of the participants came from Saqqaq, and how many from other communities. In each case we made calculations of the size of the hunting shares. Our estimate says that approximately 5,450 kg of mattak and 9,800 kg of meat were allocated to the Saqqarmiut (approximately 85 per cent).9 An unknown number of whales was taken by fishing vessels from Ilulissat, but for example, one day when five whales were retrieved by hunting groups operating from Saqqaq and flensed on the island, three fishing vessels from Ilulissat flensed seven to ten whales on Nuugaarsuk. 9 On 13 November 1980, a hunting share from the division of five whales was measured. This gave an estimate of 80 kg mattak and 132 kg meat for each beluga. The size of these whales was taken into consideration when calculations of other belugas were made. In case of a larger whale, for example, an increase of 25% was made when measuring the amount of mattak and meat. Randal Reeves gives a calculation of 120 kg mattak and 400 kg meat for narwhals (1993: 84). Born (1987) gives an indication of 350 kg edible parts of a beluga.

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 107 TABLE 2.4 Estimated potential value of beluga products at Saqqaq compared to the traded value of sealskin and fishing products (in DKR)1

1980-12

1980

3

Beluga, mattal Beluga, meat Seal pelts Ammassat Other fish

327.000 89.0004

Total

416,000

158,095 100,630 126,196 384,921

1 The value of products from minke whale and seal meat is not included in this table. 2 This includes the autumn season of 1980 and the spring season of 1981. 3 The commercial value was 60 DKR/kg. 4 The commercial value was 10 DKR/kg.

However, only a few of the whales taken by the fishing vessels from Ilulissat were landed in Saqqaq. One skipper told me that in the spring 1981, he had got nineteen whales alone and had shares in an even larger number. In 1980-1, the estimated value of mattak alone - if all of it was sold equalled the commercial value of all traded fishing products (including capelin), plus sealskins, that is, it equalled the value of all other de facto hunting and fishing products traded to the Trading Company (table 2.4). In 1990, the de facto value of mattak sold to The Trade from the sassat in February was 320,000 DKR. Even though fishing of Greenland halibut had taken over as the most important cash activity in the late 1980s, the commercial value of mattak made up 75 per cent of the total traded products of the first two months of that year (Iluliarmioq, 30 April 1990), and an unknown amount might have been sold later at the informal market in Ilulissat. Hunting of Larger Whales Hunting of whales larger than beluga and narwhal is strictly regulated by the authorities in Nuuk. To a small settlement like Saqqaq, the only whale (besides beluga and narwhal) of some importance is the minke whale. Hunting of minke whale is allowed only by boats equipped

108 Saqqaq with a harpoon gun, but on application a licence can be allocated to the settlement and a dispensation issued, which gives the right to hunt minke whale with groups of at least five boats. Only hunters with a commercial certificate (full-time hunters) may participate. For many years, Saqqaq had a quota of up to five minke whales. The majority of these whales were taken by a fishing vessel from Ilulissat (the skipper was born in Saqqaq and some of his family still resides there) in cooperation with boats from Saqqaq. The fishing vessel did not have a harpoon gun, so legally it could hunt only with the help of other boats, and I suppose that at least one of these had to come from Saqqaq, since the quota was allocated to that community. Some communities are now very strict about limiting participation to boats from the community that has received the allocation. In most recent years, Saqqaq has been allowed to hunt only one or no minke whale, as the total quota for Greenland has been cut down by the International Whaling Commission.10 The hunters in Saqqaq have voiced complaints against the abovementioned procedure, by which a fishing vessel from outside can 'intervene' in the local quota, but it cannot be concealed that a major problem for a long time was the Saqqarmiut's inability to organize groups of at least five boats in a concerted effort. Comparing the hunting of minke whale with beluga hunting, a paramount difference has to do with planning, organization, and leadership ranging beyond informal authority. Because they have been deficient in these formal qualifications, the Saqqarmiut have not been able to utilize their own quota by themselves, but have relied on the chance to associate themselves with a fishing vessel with a naalagaq (leader, institutionalized leadership such as a skipper, trade manager, etc.). As more and more Saqqarmiut buy their own fishing vessels, these boats will have a chance to be 'organizers' of minke whale hunts in the future. In the new regulations from 1993, a licence is given only to an appointed leader ('captain'), and the names of all participants are written into the permission. So, some planning is necessary. There are always many animosities between people in a small community like Saqqaq that make it difficult to organize a minke whale hunting group. Even if kinship, friendship, or neighbourhood makes it 10 It should be noted that in some years, as in 1995, Saqqaq was not able to use its quota and no minke whale was landed.

A Communal Complex: Hunting Beluga 109 possible to gather a group of five hunters, the existence of two dominating political parties (the Atassuts and the Siumuts - these affiliations cross the other types of alliances) has made it even more complicated, and people have sometimes aired the viewpoint that they do not cooperate with Atassuts or, vice-versa, with Siumuts. This topic is explored in chapter 8.

3

Strategic Fishing, or Fishing by Choice

The segmentation of the calendar year into four seasons is a cultural construction with roots in a European or agricultural tradition. In the European way of classifying time, spring follows winter, summer takes over from spring and autumn completes the calendar year. In Northwest Greenland however, there is no real spring, only a short transitional period between winter and summer. Most foreign travellers to the Arctic are struck by the sudden metamorphosis of the land and nature succeeding the melting of the snow. Sheltered by stones and cliffs, blue, red, and yellow flowers sprout even before the snow cover has left the land. The arrival of the snow bunting marks the end of winter. This small bird seems to want to take full advantage of the short summer season; like all other pioneers, it is sometimes punished if winter returns for several weeks. When this happens, huge flocks come to the settlement, relying on human beings for food. Trickling water, small streams and creeks emerging from the snow cover, flowers, and birds are signs of the sudden transition from winter to summer. As remarkable as the physical transformation is a kind of symbolic feeling of the thawing of a community. The spring beluga hunt marks the first opening of the settlement, and the arrival of the ammassat (sg. ammassak), capelin, signals the social setting of summertime. Fishing of capelin implies a physical and social opening of the community. People move out of their houses, out of the nuclear family, and out of the settlement. Fishing Ammassat It is mid-June. The sun is in the sky for twenty-four hours a day. School

Strategic Fishing, or Fishing by Choice 111 is closed for summer holiday, which starts early in this settlement, one reason being the fishing of ammassat. Many boys and girls have returned from the secondary school in Ilulissat. It is time for the arrival of ammassat, but stormy weather has prevailed for several weeks. Around 10 June 1981, sunny weather sets in, and since the ice foot has melted, people expect ammassat to come very soon. Ammassat, or capelin (Latin: mallotus villosus), is a small salmon fish, 13-20 cm long, which arrives at the shores of Greenland in May and June to spawn. The coast of West Greenland, including Disko Bay and the northern shores of Nuussuaq peninsula, are usually the northernmost spawning areas for ammassat. They arrive almost every year at the shores near Saqqaq, and are considered an extremely reliable resource. However, this is not to say that ammassat appear every year. In 1995, the Saqqarmiut had to travel far into Torsukattak, and no ammassat were sold to the Trade. Ammassat arrive at the shore to spawn in shallow water. The huge shoals of fish return regularly to the same spawning grounds year after year. This is, of course, observed by the local population. Ammassat very often spawn on a shallow sandy or gravelled bottom. Shoals of females arrive first, and later the males. Very often the water seethes with ammassat shoals so near the water's edge that many of the small fish are pushed onto the shore. Twice a day, at each low tide, the ammassat come to the shore. From the early days of June, the Saqqarmiut keenly watch the coastline, specifically those shores where ammassat are known to often arrive first, such as the abandoned outpost Tartunaq, ten to twelve kilometres west of Saqqaq, or Qajaasat, east of the settlement. Following the returning ammassat, harp seals also come from their breeding grounds east of Newfoundland. When they return to the waters of Greenland, they are very thin, and when they are observed in small schools, amisut, this is taken as a harbinger of the arrival of the ammassat. But the sure sign of spawning ammassat is when seagulls are seen diving close to the shore. In 1981, the first ammassat were taken at Tartunaq on 12 June (in 1982, the first ammassat were taken exactly one week later). That day every living thing left for Tartunaq. A few hours later the boats returned brimfull of ammassat with the gunwales dangerously low in the water. The arrival of the first boats filled with ammassat marked the beginning of the most laborious season of the year, involving all but the youngest members of the household. Within a few days, the ammassat arrived at Ujaqqiukkat andllluluarsuit,

112 Saqqaq only two to three kilometres west of the settlement. That meant an intensification of the fishing, because the distance between the fishing sites and the drying grounds had diminished. One morning I stayed with Pavia at Ujaqqiukkat. He and his eighteen-year-old son fished from the boat with landing nets, and sometimes Pavia's ten-year-old son assisted, too. The ammassat were really scooped up in the boat, and within only a half or one hour the boat was filled to the gunwales. Pavia's friend and political fellow partisan, Adolf, standing on the rocks, fished alone, but he too succeeded in filling his boat within a very short time. Even at this early stage of the ammassat fishing, the traditional drying grounds at the island off Saqqaq were filled, and Pavia and Adolf sailed the filled boats to an area with flat rocks a few hundred metres from the fishing site. They were met there by Pavia's wife, their fourteen-yearold daughter, their nine-year-old son, and an adult daughter of his wife now home for vacation. His wife had already prepared tea, and as we sat on the rocks eating biscuits and drinking tea, we enjoyed the feeling of summer from the calm sea, the ice, and the sun, which was caught by the glistening ammassat in the boats. At the edge of the water, children were fishing ammassat with their hands. With tea finished, the time had come for the hard and laborious part of ammassat fishing. Usually, it is the men who carry fish from the boat to the drying areas well above the high-water level. Buckets, bowls, and tubs are used for carrying ammassat, and when poured out on the rocks the fish are spread out by the women and children. Very often a broom is used first to distribute ammassat over the rocks and then the work is finished by hand, so that each lies separately, to be dried by the sun and the wind. During the fishing of ammassat, as I have observed it, the division of labour reveals a demarcation between the fishermen (read 'hunters'), that is, the procurers, and the processors, that is, women, elders, and children. During two seasons, I have never observed a woman doing the scooping. This is in contrast to historical records. The Danish missionary Glahn wrote in the early days of the colonial era (1768) that he had heard that ammassat fishing in some districts was done by women, but in his district (Holsteinsborg/Sisimiut, 500-600 kilometres south of Saqqaq) men did the scooping and women the carrying of fish to the rocks (Glahn 1921: 233). In the edited version of Glahn's diaries from 1921, however, Ostermann remarks in a footnote: Tn contrast to the division of labour as described by Glahn, today men and women usu-

Strategic Fishing, or Fishing by Choice 113 ally take an even part in the different processes of the ammassat fishery' (ibid: 233). From South Greenland the missionary (1768-73) Otto Fabricius writes that 'catching and drying of ammassat is the women's work alone...' (Fabricius 1962:94). Also from South Greenland, Bendixen recounts that 'when the ammassat season draws near, the women, assisted by the old men who are no longer able to hunt, are transported to the fishing sites to scoop and dry ...' (Bendixen 1921b: 452-3; 1930: 8). An account similar to the latter is given by Rink. 'They [the ammassat] are shovelled on shore by means of small nets by women and children, and spread over the rocks to dry during four weeks of May and June ...' (1877: 135). More recent sources (Elgstrom 1916: 186; Rosendahl 1967: 201-2) indicate that scooping is mainly the work of men. This also seems to have been the case in East Greenland before colonization, as accounted for by Hanserak in 1885 (Hanserak 1933:169). Thus it seems justifiable to conclude that in Saqqaq the trend has been towards a strengthening of the role of the 'hunter.' Similarly, distribution of fish on the ground is the job of women, elders, and children. Only the job of carrying fish to drying grounds can be done by everybody, but usually it is done by men. This division of labour has several implications; they are best considered by returning now to the account of the fishing process. Pavia and his eighteen-year-old son carry the ammassat to the drying grounds, where his wife and four other children do the spreading. To minimize the carrying job rocks nearest the sea are preferred drying grounds. It is preferable to travel quite some distance to find a suitable place rather than have to carry the fish far from the shore. Given the limited number of available and easily accessible flat rocks, the fish are put as close to one another as possible. In years with plentiful ammassat, all drying grounds several kilometres east and west of Saqqaq are occupied. When one sails along the shore outside the ammassat season, the drying grounds are easily observed because those rocks, lacking black algae, expose a light colour among the surrounding dark rocks. Several hours pass before the boat is emptied of ammassat and the last bowl of fish has been spread on the rocks. This illustrates a fundamental aspect of ammassat fishing - the fishing proper - that is, scooping - is of minor significance compared to the real bottleneck, which is the number of people available for carrying and spreading ammassat. This bottleneck is further narrowed after three days, when it is time to turn the fish; this is dealt with below. At last that day all the ammassat have been spread out and there is

114 Saqqaq time to eat boiled kittiwakes shot in the morning. Meanwhile, the rising tide has made it difficult to scoop ammassat. Instead of fishing another boat full, the family decides to leave for Saqqaq and return in the evening at the next low tide, when ammassat will have returned to shore. Within only one day the territory along the coast east and west of Saqqaq has become occupied by human beings. The community has been enlarged or spread out. Ammassat season lasts only for a few weeks, but for twenty-four hours a day - day after day. Boats come and go. On shore, along the whole coastal stretch from Qilerserfik east of Saqqaq to Ujaqqiukkat west of the settlement people are busy. Somewhere you can hear a hunter giving orders to his wife and children. From another corner the men groan under the burden of carrying the heavy bowls onto shore. Although occupying the land, people no longer settle there in tents as in the 'old days/ Some of the elders told me that in the 'old days' they often camped at Tartunaq west of Saqqaq or in the small bay Saputit fifteen kilometres east of the settlement. In 1982, Saputit was used for fishing ammassat by Saqqarmiut as well as by people from neighbouring Qeqertaq. Saputit was confirmed as a suitable spawning place one day near the end of the ammassat season when we visited there and found the shoreline completely covered with yellow roe. Nowadays tents are carried only as a shelter from rain and mosquitoes and sometimes to shield dried ammassat against rain. I have heard that some people in other settlements still keep up the tradition of moving into tent camps during the ammassat season. In 1978 I visited people from Uummannaq municipality, who had made ammassat camps at the northern shores of Nuussuaq peninsula. In 1984, there were no ammassat near Saqqaq, and the hunters went as far away as to Appat (Ritenbenk), where they stayed and dried the ammassat. Only some of the hunters were reported to have travelled to Saqqaq every day. Ten days after the opening of ammassat fishing in 1981, a family returned to Saqqaq from Ilulissat, where they had been fishing and working in the fish-processing plant. They immediately rushed to the fishing grounds. We met them near the old settlement of Illuluarsuit on a warm, cloudy, mosquito-infested day. The husband, Atiia, was there with his wife, daughter, son, and old mother. In the baylet of Illuluarsuit, Nilo and his sons were seineing, one of them standing on the rocks and the eldest son sailing around the shoal. The ammassat were scooped up in the boat from the seine. Using the seine makes it possible to fish

Strategic Fishing, or Fishing by Choice 115 outside low-water hours and to keep the fish trapped if the ebb hours are used for carrying fish onto land or spreading them on the rocks. Nile's wife was drinking tea with Atiia, her recently arrived brother, and his family. As the shoal was standing low in the water, Nilo imagined that Atiia would have trouble scooping from land and offered him a seine full of fish; this gesture not only stressed the kinship between the two families, but also the easy availability of ammassat. First, however, and in spite of rising tide, Atiia wanted to try an old method of attracting the shoal of males to the shore. He succeeded in filling a net with male ammassat. Placing the net on the rocks slightly raised over the water, he could tread on the fish and thus squeeze the milt out of them. When milt was flowing down into the water, the result was not long in coming; the shoal of ammassat was immediately attracted to shore, and soon the water beneath the stone and rocks was seething with ammassat. Later on, I was told that Saqqarmiut also used to pour out clay soaked in water with the addition of seal blood to attract ammassat shoals to shore. While Atiia did the scooping, the ammassat were spread out by his wife, son, daughter, and old mother. The latter applied an old drying method. Instead of using rocks, she spread the ammassat on heather and moss, placing each fish separately, an extremely time-consuming method - in the short run at least. This method has the advantage, however, of allowing the fish to be dried on both sides at the same time. In contrast to ammassat spread on rocks, heather-dried fish are not turned - another time-consuming job. In the 'old days,' this method was presumably far more prevalent. Nowadays it is used only for fish consumed within the household. Fish for commercial use or for dog food are always dried on the rocks. From Saqqaq to Ujaqqiukkat, freshly scooped ammassat are now gleaming in the sun. Fortunately, days with sun and light wind have set in extremely important to the drying process. Rain prolongs the drying time, and mouldy ammassat cannot be sold, nor are they very good as dog food. If the weather remains dry, the fish should be turned after three days, to dry on the other side for three more days. In 1981, rain disturbed the drying process for only two days and caused no serious trouble. Walking along the shore, we meet a lot of people working, others cooking meat on the primus stove, and still others roasting meat on flat stones, while chatting. It is an enjoyable time, even though it is hard, hard work. Initially, fishing was succeeded by carrying and spreading

116 Saqqaq ammassat, but after three days the task of turning the fish, which is done with shovel and hands, has increased significantly. Many families are on the fishing sites at low tide twice a day. After more than a week, tiredness slowly creeps over everyone. But incessant work affords a chance to earn a lot of money. After three weeks, the ammassat fishing drags to its close, but the rocks are still covered with fish. For household consumption, people prefer ammassat scooped during the early fishing days, because after spawning the fish lose fat very quickly. Scattered in the landscape are piles of dried ammassat covered by canvas or plastic. East of the community, at Qilerserfik, a hunter, Ditlev, has raised some scarecrows to keep away gulls and kittiwakes. In the initial phase of this season, seagulls dove into the shallow water for ammassat, and loose dogs were soon satisfied. Now, as ammassat disappear from shore, the sea birds suddenly show a new interest in the ammassat drying on land. Then the hunters know that the ammassat are leaving the shallow waters. A few days later, on 8 July, the last ammassat have been stored and the drudgery has come to an end. To those families who have staked on ammassat as a means for making larger investments - in a boat or an outboard motor - or for use in lean seasons, the prospects were worth the toil. Then came a real shock - the very same day. The Trading Company (KGH) announced that Saqqaq was allocated a quota of only nine tons of dried ammassat - in contrast to twenty tons the year before. Then the local branch of the Hunter's and Fishermen's Organization decided that only those households that relied on hunting and fishing as their main occupation were allowed to trade 500 kilograms of dried ammassat (later raised to 600 kilograms). Those families who had relied on ammassat had expected two to five times this amount. A strange mood reigned that afternoon as some of the men took to the island to stamp ammassat in oil drums. Others stored the fish in storehouses. The only comfort was that ammassat could be used next winter for dogs. The following day, ammassat was traded to KGH. We were told that this used to be a day of rejoicing, but even though people bought a lot of alcohol, it was as if the spirit had gone. Furthermore, since ammassat are graded and packed in Saqqaq, the small quota meant less salaried work for women in the coming weeks. After the ammassat had been sold to The Trade, everybody needed a rest. But then came the time for grading and packing, done mostly by

Strategic Fishing, or Fishing by Choice 117 women, although some men take the chance to earn some cash. Grading and packing took place in an old warehouse for two to three weeks. Whereas in the first many days of the ammassat fishing period everybody was completely occupied by fishing, people began longing for fresh meat after ten days to two weeks, but only a few short regular hunting trips were made. Others took to eider ducks, which now passed along the coast in huge flocks, and in the middle of the season a minke whale was landed in Saqqaq. Social Space of Ammassat Drying Grounds Let us now for a while return to the ammassat drying grounds. Their geographical distribution reveals many significant aspects of social relations in the community. When we were in the midst of the hectic ammassat fishing, boats filled with ammassat passed one another sailing to and from various separate drying grounds. Some people obviously did not use the drying grounds nearest to where they fished, whereas others came from some distance and took cliffs close to where another family was fishing. We observed two families fishing four kilometres west of Saqqaq, sailing seven to 9 kilometres east of Saqqaq with loaded boats, in spite of the fact that plenty of non-occupied areas were available not far from where the fishing took place. We were curious as to why this happened. When we asked, people denied that each family had its own drying grounds. However, some modified their answer, telling us that 'originally' each family used the same drying areas year after year, but only on Qeqertaq, the island inside the settlement - thus indicating a tradition no longer being followed. If a family did not use its area on the island, it could be used by other families. The statement that only the island was divided into areas occupied by use was further revised because, as a hunter told me, "Ditlev used to dry at Qilerserfik' east of the settlement; this was afterwards confirmed by Ditlev himself. We could also observe that the spit of Nuugaarsuk had a status similar to Qeqertaq. Even though we were able to observe that drying grounds were far from being chosen randomly, we could shed no more light on this question. When we returned to Saqqaq one year later, in 1982, we arrived just before the opening of the ammassat season. We soon unequivocally confirmed that families made a preferential selection of the same drying grounds they used the previous year. The written sources from the Disko Bay region contain very little information on this matter, but our

118 Saqqaq observations were confirmed by the writings of a German geographer who visited Saqqaq in June 1963 (Dege 1964:162f; 1965:148). There is no doubt that a certain kind of use right to ammassat drying grounds exists - even today. But what does use right imply in this context, and what does it mean when people seem to refer to this principle as something that 'originally used to be'? As applied today (the 1980s and 1990s), I would say that use right to ammassat drying grounds is a right to use - if you come in time. Although with some reluctance, I would dare to say that this right can only be protected by continued use - year after year. Furthermore, since use can only take place if families (households) have the necessary labour power, the developmental phase of each household needs to be taken into consideration as a limiting factor. Therefore, in practice only a relatively small area can be claimed year after year (corresponding to a developmental phase with few household members), but often a larger area is de facto being utilized. This might explain why people usually indicate that only the island, Qeqertaq, is covered by use rights, because it is the area first taken into use each year (no dogs can go there). Only one family was said always to use drying grounds outside the settlement area. It should be added that, according to my information, the use right is always associated with the hunter. This also implies that the use right 'fades out' the farther you go from the settlement; the closer the drying grounds are to the settlement, the stronger are the use rights. It also indicates a relativity contained in this concept - the more regularly a drying ground is used, the stronger is the right of the hunter and his family to dispose over it. In a spatial perspective, there seems to be a dilution in use right principles radiating from the settlement (the island Qeqertaq and Nuugaarsuk) reminiscent of Sahlins' model of reciprocity (1965). Similarly, the enforcement and cognition of use rights fade out in proportion to the distance from the community. Rocks and areas of heather and moss suitable for drying are not limited resources to be controlled by some individuals or families. Nevertheless, selection of land and enforcement of some kind of priority to certain drying sites indicate and confirm specific social relations. Fishing ammassat is a public activity involving nearly everyone in the community. In this respect, there are social similarities with beluga hunting and sharing. But, whereas beluga hunting and sharing is the hunter's show, ammassat fishery is a family concern. Although it is a social activity involving practically everybody in the settlement, the

Strategic Fishing, or Fishing by Choice 119 fishing process is family- or household-oriented and has no direct implications to the community as a collective entity. In a diachronic perspective - that is, the developmental process of households - we are able to understand why the de facto area covered by use right (as I observed it during two seasons) is larger than what is declared by people to be the drying grounds of this or that hunter. When asked by the anthropologist, people will consider use rights to drying grounds to be those areas that have 'always' been used by certain hunters rather than those areas used in that specific year or the preceding two or three years. Use right to some areas might be more permanent than use right to other areas. Seen in the perspective of history, the ammassat fishery has changed from a resource only used for household consumption to a commercial product. Only a few generations ago, ammassat was a safeguard from starvation during harsh winters - today it is also used for earning money. No longer a strategic resource to cope with starvation, ammassat is today a strategic subsistence and commercial resource. I assume that in the 'old days/ a kind of expected or anticipated need determined the amount of time invested in ammassat fishing. An anthropologist working south of Disko Bay in the 1970s wrote that 'by using the same drying sites year after year, people can estimate when an abundant amount has been fished' (Hertz 1977: 25). Danish missionaries and administrators often criticized the Greenlanders because they ceased ammassat fishing prematurely and before abundant winter reserves were obtained (see also Fleischer 1996: 105). This reminds one of the 'original affluent society' as described by Sahlins (1972), in which some resources were abundant. Today, a new incentive is associated with the ammassat fishery - the opportunity to earn a substantial amount of money in a few weeks' time. It is the main motivation for putting a large amount of effort into this activity today. The limiting factor is the amount of labour power available within the household. The commercialization could also be among the factors explaining why the men, the hunters, today seem to play a more significant role in ammassat fishing than was the case years ago. It is my theory that the total amount of ammassat fished in Saqqaq in recent years exceeds that of earlier days because some families have chosen this activity as a strategic commercial endeavour. For this reason, over a period of an unknown number of years, the area covered by use rights has been enlarged, specifically by some families, and now

120 Saqqaq includes areas outside the island - the latter still is conceived by many to be the only area cognitively recognized as being covered by use rights. One cold and windy afternoon we were sitting with an elderly hunter and his wife behind some rocks, drinking coffee, chatting, and warming ourselves at a small fire. The hunter and his wife were tired from turning ammassat and joked about the method in use today (turning ammassat with a shovel) in contrast to the 'old days/ when ammassat were arranged one by one in nice rows and patterns. This family used the same drying sites on the island each year (which we had been able to confirm), but gave the opinion that no use rights existed outside the island. Several days later we saw that this area of the mainland, called Nuunnguacj, was now being used by one of this hunter's friends. The following year we again observed this latter person spreading ammassat in the same area of Nuunnguaq early in the season, but later on both families used the area. In this case - as in others - reproduction of friendship is implied in the management of use rights. Use of specified drying sites is not monopolized by some families, even though we were once told that one family 'used to be all over the island/ as another family had been many years ago. I do not subscribe to a statement made by Dege, who was in Saqqaq in 1963, that use right on the island followed a strong hierarchical principle (Dege 1964,1965). According to the situation we observed about twenty years later, I would rather assert that ordinary people would be quite reluctant to make use of areas - specifically on the island - which are considered to 'belong' to families of piniartorssuit - considering that these have been in use in recent years. During the ammassat season, in the selection of drying sites, the social space of the community is moved out onto the land. Geographically, people now occupy larger tracts of land, and they bring the social relations of the settlement with them. Ordering of the enlarged territory seems to mirror social relations as they reign within the settlement. Let us therefore have a brief look at how people select sites for drying ammassat, particularly as this takes place in areas outside the island. My assumption is that when choosing new - or relatively new - drying sites, prevailing social relations are activated, and only to a lesser degree those relations that are developed over years and maybe generations. The latter, however, might be the case on the island, that is, within the area where the strongest use rights prevail. Regarding the selection of sites away from the settlement, my first

Strategic Fishing, or Fishing by Choice 121 impression was that families from the western section of Saqqaq dried ammassat west of the community, while those from the eastern part went east. At least, it obviously did not depend much upon where the scooping took place. The best proof of this trend was that while fishing took place a few kilometres west of Saqqaq, all those who sailed to drying sites east of the community had their houses at Nuugaarsuk at the eastern end of the settlement. But this trend only reflects one set of alliance - neighbourhood. Other factors and alliances were in operation as well; among them were kinship relations, friendship, and political party membership. As a confirming example, we observed that two nuclear families, who by various social standards could be considered outsiders, took drying sites at an ample distance from all others. Occupancy of drying sites is a continuous process, each step 'activating' one or several kinds of alliances, which means that the process is more revealing than the end result. One day a hunter may choose a drying site near his brother, but the next day a site near a political party companion. Thus, looking at the spatial distribution of drying sites five days after starting the fishing, we are met by a more complicated overall picture than if we followed each step from day to day. A snapshot of the distribution of drying sites at any time will cover a number of different social relations and alliances, but none of them is revealed unless we have been able to follow each successive stage of occupancy. The spatial distribution of drying sites thus recalls a symbolic identification. Each household is connected by a large variety of alliances of crisscross relations, all showing great flexibility. This again is in contrast to political relations (which I deal with later), which tended to divide the community into two factions. This picture might have been different if selection of sites had been a question of control over limited resources, and not over land that is available in unlimited amount. The Ammassat Fishery Economy Ammassat fishing has a long tradition in Greenland. In the 'old days/ it was often the bread-and-butter resource during severe winters. While today it is still a strategic resource, it has become more of a commercial resource as well. Statistical data from 1980 and my own from 1981 reveal that those households and families that invest real effort in ammassat fishing are those with many hands. In small households, consisting of few people

122 Saqqaq over ten years of age, ammassat can only be a strategic resource if family members from other households can be recruited. For example, one family got help from two brothers staying by themselves, and another family was helped by two adult daughters coming to Saqqaq on holiday. The most active families are not only larger - having more hands but each member invests more time in the ammassat fishing than members of small households do. This is very clear from our observations, and in a way, logical, since fishing ammassat constitutes a social activity that involves the whole household. It is hard work, but it is also fun. In no other activity, except for the preparation of sealskins, is the work of women more important than in this. Whereas, in hunting, the number of adult males is critical to the viability of a household, in ammassat fishing, it is the number of women, children, and elders (Odgaard and Dahl 1983). Figures 3.la and 3.1b show for several years at the end of the 1970s and for several years before and after 1990, the commercial importance of ammassat compared to all traded hunting and fishing products in the community. Figure 3.2 gives the significance of dried ammassat for fifteen households relative to all money income for one year (1980). Although many reservations should be made for these figures (1980 was a good ammassat year, to mention only one), these data support our own observations over three years that ammassat is a significant strategic resource for some families. These families also talked a lot about it before the season - as something to look forward to and to invest in. It is obvious that to the community as a whole, the commercial significance of ammassat as such has diminished. On the other hand, if we look at the amount traded commercially, the picture is somewhat different. In 1990, no less than 38 tons were traded, but it made up only 5 per cent of the total value of all items traded. Ten years earlier, in 1980, 20 tons were traded, constituting 40 per cent of the value of all items traded.1 The figures for 1991 were 9 tons, 1992: 6 tons, 1993: 10 tons, 1995: none, 1996: 7.4 tons. My interpretation is that ammassat continues to be of strategic importance to families who rely on a variety of resources, even though a few Greenland halibut fishermen are responsible for the bulk of the total value of fish traded in the community. Where does the dried ammassat go? Some are exported to countries in Africa; others are sold in Danish supermarkets as food for dogs and 1 It should be noted that the figures do not include the value of meat and mattak traded at the informal markets in the towns.

Figure 3.1a Sales of dried ammassat The Trade in Saqqaq 1974-80 and 7989-93 (inDKR)

Figure3.1bSales of dried ammassat to The Trade in Saqqaq, as percentage if all items traded, 1974-80 and 1989-93

124 Saqqaq

Figure 3.2 Sales of dried ammassat to The Trade as percentage of total income for fifteen households, 1980 in Saqqaq

cats. In 1981, 200g of dried angmassat (they used the old Greenlandic orthography) were sold in a Danish supermarket at 13.45 DKR, which is 67.25 DKR/kg. The hunter in Saqqaq received 6.00 DKR/kg, eleven times less. But regardless, it is usually too valuable a resource to be used only for dogs! Fishing by Choice We are constantly being told by civil servants, politicians, and the press that fishing must replace hunting as the economic mainstay of Greenlandic hunting communities. The boom in Greenland halibut fishing in the late 1980s and early 1990s in most settlements of Disko Bay, Uummannaq, and Upernavik municipalities is convincing in support of this argument. The cash flow into these communities has increased significantly, and new job opportunities have been brought to a number of settlements that had suffered for decades from a net emigration primarily of younger women (see chapter 6). Saqqaq is one of those communities that has benefited most from commercial fishing of Greenland halibut. Two aspects of this development deserve to be dealt with further. While in these years, fishing is taking over as the main cash-generating activity in what are often considered traditional Greenlandic hunting communities, that is not to say that fishing is replacing hunting

Strategic Fishing, or Fishing by Choice 125 activities. As I explain in the next chapter, sealing is not a commercial activity, and the economic logic of sealing is linked with social relations rather than being market oriented. In the coming years, Greenland halibut fishing might develop into a purely commercial venture for many Greenlanders just as shrimp fishing did, but for the present harvesting Greenland halibut is one of several resource niches. If further developed, it will presumably add to the transformation of hunting as a way of life, but at present, increased cash income from fishing Greenland halibut makes it possible for people to continue a way of life based on a 'hunting mode of production' (see chapter 7). In accordance with this, it is crucial not to treat fishing as being in competition with hunting, but to analyse the role of new activities in relation to 'a hunting mode of living.' Secondly, a unilinear development of Greenlandic societies from being based on hunting towards relying more and more on fishing is often assumed. If this is taken as a general trend, it is correct, but if it is taken as an empirically ascertainable unilinear and continuous development, there are at least exceptions. Saqqaq is one of these. Sometimes we are led to believe that fishing is something new, something 'real hunters' only do when they have to, out of necessity. But this assumption disregards the fact that fishing has always been a critical part of the hunting mode of production as it has been practised in West Greenland. While commercial fishing of Greenland halibut has flourished since the mid-1980s, for the Saqqarmiut the significance of fishing decreased in the years that followed World War II, or maybe even earlier. Whenever the decline began, fishing was never of such relative economic insignificance as it was in the late 1970s and early 1980s. This is in sharp contrast to the situation prevalent in the nineteenth century and the first decades of the twentieth. In those days, fishing of Greenland halibut was one of the main insurances against famine (the others were dried ammassat, dried seal, and beluga meat). From before the beginning of this century, the archives reveal that year after year the Saqqarmiut depended on Greenland halibut to avoid hunger. In some years, Greenland halibut seems to have been harvested from fishing grounds close to Saqqaq, but the species used to be more abundant in the interior of Torsukattak, close to neighbouring Qeqertaq. Thus in 1895, the hunters from Saqqaq travelled to Qeqertaq to fish Greenland halibut. The next winter when hunting was bad in December and January, the hunters again relied on Greenland halibut to avert hunger. In 1897, the netting of seals failed and the people once again

126 Saqqaq relied on the Greenland halibut.2 In the minutes of the district councils and the communal councils, this resource is mentioned year after year as having saved the inhabitants of Saqqaq and other communities of the region from starving or from relying on poor relief. Fishing Greenland halibut has always been a resource niche for the Saqqarmiut. Today it is a commercial niche, whereas a few generations ago it was one of several niches to cope with the recurrent hunting failure and starvation. Expressed in different terms, we could say that incorporation into the world market has never eliminated hunting as a mode of living and as a form of production by which the use of a variety of resources has made it feasible for Saqqarmiut and others to cope with world market fluctuations, depletion of some resources, and the disappearance of others due to climatic oscillations. As known from agricultural societies in the Third World, where salaries are often below the cost of reproduction of labour and where seasonal employment means that part of the reproduction has to take place in other sectors of the society, it is simply necessary for the market-oriented sector not to completely destroy other forms of production. While non-commercial activities, including fishing, have often played the role of relief when the market collapsed (as it did for seal blubber decades ago or recently for dried ammassat) or when game animals stayed away, the relationship has become symbiotic, and marketoriented activities like commercial fishing of Greenland halibut make it possible to continue living 'the hunting way of life.' Thus, the role of fishing has changed for the Saqqarmiut, and significantly so over the past fifteen to twenty years. In the 1970s and 1980s, fishing wolf fish and ammassat were by far the two most important commercial fishing activities, as can be read from trade statistics. Having the community as a frame of reference, fishing is now dominated by Greenland halibut, and on a much larger scale than previously. Following the ammassat season in mid-July, the time comes to set long-lines for wolf fish. The coastal areas of Vaigat have many good fishing sites and hunters very often stay over in hunters' huts in Tartunaq and Qallu, or in the abandoned settlement of Ujarasussuk (Alangocj). Wolf fish are also taken in other areas along the coast west of Saputit. As mentioned earlier, wolf fish are taken until the arrival of beluga in the autumn. 2 In Kongelige Gr0nlandske Handel, Diverse Korrespondence, Lb. nr 38c, National Archive, Copenhagen.

Strategic Fishing, or Fishing by Choice 127 Fishing of Greenland halibut and wolf fish was traditionally carried out by use of long-liners. In the U-shaped glacial fiords outside Saqqaq, water depth is often several hundred metres and a long-line can be 400600 metres long. In summer, long-lines are set from boats, and in winter from holes in the ice. At the end of the line is a glider made of a sheet of iron, for example, to draw the line down along the sloping bottom. Several hundred hooks are usually attached to each long-line. This method is still used, but small fishing vessels have now started to apply bottom nets. When the sea is covered by ice, Greenland halibut is either taken on long-lines or by jigging. A few kilometres west of Saqqaq there is a suitable area for jigging Greenland halibut. Fish caught there are not as big as those taken in deep water or in Torsukattak, but fish is a much welcomed alternative to meat at a time when ice conditions do not allow longer sledge travels. Furthermore, fishing in the vicinity of Saqqaq allows old hunters and teenaged boys to participate. In early 1981, this was specifically the case during days of cold and snowy weather. Fish caught by jigging are used only for home consumption; the amount of fish taken by jigging is rather limited since tidal currents restrict fishing to a few hours every day. Through the ice, long-lines can be set at various sites depending on ice conditions. A much used area is the puisip aqqutaa, 'the seal road/ which hunters localize by taking bearings on a mountaintop on Disko Island and a mountaintop on Nuussuaq peninsula. As a matter of fact, this is also a preferred seal-hunting area in summer and autumn. In the 1990s, long-line fishing from the ice increased significantly with the high prices obtained for Greenland halibut at the fish-processing plant in Saqqaq. Long-lining on this increased scale takes place outside Saqqaq, but also deep into Torsukattak. Those hunters, or rather those families, who have invested in small fishing vessels operate them from Saqqaq, and give priority to the rich Greenland halibut fishing in Torsukattak. In 1995, only two families in Saqqaq had invested in small fishing vessels, but a third family had ordered one for the 1996 season. With a small fishing vessel, Greenland halibut can be taken in nets - a more profitable venture than long-line fishing. Due to depletion of the resource, various measures have been taken to limit Greenland halibut fishing with nets, specifically in the interior of the Torsukattak glacial fiord. Greenland halibut are traded to the fish-processing plant in Saqqaq, where they are filleted, packed, and frozen. When fish is traded by the hunters, ten to fifteen people are employed to process and pack the fish.

128 Saqqaq

Figure 3.3 Value of Greenland halibut sold to The Trade in Saqqaq, as a percentage of all items traded, 1988-96

The significance of this change in the fishing of Greenland halibut is twofold. First of all, more money flows into the settlement (figure 3.3) and not only to those families who own boats, but also to those individuals working in fish processing. Second, the hunting and fishing economy is now in the process of gradually changing from being niche oriented to being capital oriented. In the 'hunting mode of production/ fishing of Greenland halibut, among other species, is fishing by choice. It could easily be replaced by seal hunting if weather permits or if a person is in that mood; or a son could fish and the father go hunting. Flexibility in exploitation of niches is essential to this mode of production, and priority of activity reflects decisions based on a large number of economic, social, and ecological variables. Investing in a fishing vessel, even a small one, requires regular payment of interest and instalments, and fishing of Greenland halibut has now become fishing by priority only in so far as this activity can pay for a significant investment. However, even if this commercial aspect has

Strategic Fishing, or Fishing by Choice 129 become dominant, this type of fishing should in no way be confused with industrialized fishing. Whereas the latter is dominated completely by year-round commercial fishing and salaried employment of various types, commercial fishing as it is practised by small fishing vessels in Saqqaq is still family-oriented and, due to climatic conditions, restricted to the open-water season. Even though it is commercial and based on substantial capital investments, the crew is recruited from within the household or the family, which is also the frame of reference for decision-making and management. For these households, even though it is given priority, commercial fishing can never be operated as the only activity throughout the year, without recourse to either hunting or other fishing activities. From the end of the seal netting season until the beginning of wolf fish long-lining, uuaq (pi. uukkat, Greenland cod) is sometimes fished by household members. The area around Saqqaq is still ice-covered. At the entrance of the harbour and outside Nuugaarsuk, uuaq is jigged through cracks in the ice; home-made lead sinkers with four hooks are much used and very efficient. Most often jigging is done by teenaged boys, elders, and occasionally some hunters. Jigging uuacj is a subsistence activity aimed at fulfilling a need within the household; as an ecological niche, it is exploited not by the hunter but by a member of the household. The argument is further substantiated if we turn to netting of uuaq, which takes place in the last weeks before break-up when long trips on the sea ice are difficult. Nets for catching uuaq are set near Saqqaq and very near the shore. When setting a net, the same method is used as when setting a seal net (see pp. 145-6). Depending on net size, a number of holes are made in a straight line and the net is set with the help of an ice chisel pushed under the ice from hole to hole with the net attached. An often-seen pattern is that of a hunter setting a net accompanied by a teenaged or ten- to twelve-year-old son. It is tended by his family, for example, his wife and the son, or two sons, or himself with a son or his wife. Usually a hunter sets only one or two nets (two nets are often set end to end in a straight line), which have to be tended every day because of attacks by red gammarus. It is fairly common to see fish with almost no heads, even in nets tended the day before. Red gammarus is a reason why some hunters prefer to jig uuaq. Another reason is that tending uuaq nets has to be done every day, so a hunter must rely on his family because he himself might be occupied by other activities. Uuaq fishing is not an extremely important activity, but in an economy

130 Saqqaq dominated by domestic relations of production, it is a niche not to be underestimated. Uukkat are consumed in the household, dried, and used as dog food, or in some years sold to The Trade, which had its own drying racks. In a diachronic perspective, uuaq has lost its commercial significance and has become a sheer subsistence resource. Maybe this helps explain why uuaq fishing demonstrates a flexibility in the gender division of labour not known from other harvesting activities. Thus, after thaw, uuaq is irregularly jigged from boats, usually by the hunter and a family member. If, for example, a hunter is travelling or if he has been drunk for many days, his wife might be seen jigging uuaq with one of her boys. On other occasions, a married couple sails out, simply to jig and enjoy a sunny evening in the boat. From an economic point of view, uuaq fishing, in some instances, can be a seasonally important niche like long-lining for wolf fish; from a social point of view, it carries no significant status and the division of labour is therefore best characterized as relaxed. In April 1981, when nets for fishing uuaq were set outside the easternmost end of Saqqaq, this was done at the outset only by people from Nuugaarsuk and the eastern section of the settlement. When the last net was set, it was to the east of the others and was set by a family from the westernmost end. Later, a few nets were set off Nuugaarsuk by families from the western sections of the community. This observation deserves only few remarks, but it should be noted that, to a limited extent, it adds to what has been recounted above concerning the geographical location of ammassat fishing and drying sites. Gathering mussels is of no great importance, but the good sites are known and sporadically used. The transition over many years from sealing and fishing to commercial fishing implies, among other things, that women's labour in the domestic-oriented process of production has been made superfluous. In the traditional division of labour the man hunts seals and the woman prepares the skin; this cooperation between men and women disintegrates when commercial fishing is given priority over hunting activities. On the other hand, with the establishment of a fish-processing plant in Saqqaq, new relations of production are created and new job opportunities are open for women, who otherwise have lost their role as active participants in harvesting and processing activities. In the end, this might happen to be a crucial aspect of introducing commercial fishing on a large scale in Saqqaq.

4

Ecology of Staple Food: Sealing

Subsistence and Culture It was sometime in the autumn. With one of the hunters in his sixteenfoot boat, I had gone sealing west of the community. The sea was calm when we spotted the first seal, about ten kilometres from Saqqaq. A long-distance shot made the seal dive immediately. Rushing to the site where it had dived, we saw bubbles indicating in what direction it would surface next. We pursued the trail for about five minutes before the seal appeared again - far away in the opposite direction from where we had expected. A new long-distance shot made it dive again. We rushed to where it had disappeared, then kept on tracking slowly beyond that area. After a while, the seal came up the for third time, not far from the boat, and this time it was shot and hauled into the boat. It was a harp seal, as are most of those shot from boats during late summer and autumn. Going farther northwest, we met other hunters from Saqqaq. In the area between Atanikerluk and Qullissat, we saw five or six seals, but all shots missed. Roaming around on a dead-calm sea, we suddenly saw that the sea had grown dark blue to the east, inside the glacier fiord. We headed immediately for Saqqaq, but the bad weather approached quickly, and soon we were met by a strong wind coming down from Saqqaq valley. The waves were choppy, breaking constantly over the boat. Four and a half hours after leaving Saqqaq, our boat, drained of thirty litres of gasoline, brought us back, drenched but a harp seal richer. At least, that's what I thought as we entered the hunter's house with the seal in tow. There, we were met by his wife, who had prepared boiled

132 Saqqaq black guillemot and traditional Greenlandic soup, suaasat. After eating, I relaxed while the hunter joyfully flensed and butchered the seal on the kitchen floor. This day he had succeeded as provider and he was now flensing his own game. Later, I would receive a share and the skin would be taken care of by his wife. Anthropologist that I am, I made some 'rational' calculations of the value of the sealskin relative to costs of petrol, ammunition, and depreciation of boat and outboard motor. I reflected on the time and effort used in retrieving one seal. The picture would have been grim, had it not been that these reflections were mine only. The hunter had reason to be proud, as is the case every time a hunter returns with his game. In this society, successful sealing is the way to make social and economic ends meet. Returning with a seal means that the family has food, that a small cash income from the skin can be obtained, and last but not least, that the hunter and his wife can give meat to relatives, partners, namesakes, or friends. He, the hunter, has reproduced important social relations and accumulated significant social merit. Besides that he has provided the family with real food. This was not only a one-time experience but was reiterated again and again. A narrow economic calculation could never explain why people went seal hunting - which is not to suggest that the hunters don't make such economic calculations - in fact they often do. But their logic is different from my way of making calculations. As accounted for, this day was followed by days of windy weather not suitable for hunting. More than a week later, while most of the other hunters were pursuing beluga, the same hunter went hunting alone again near Atanikerluk. He returned empty-handed five or six hours later. He then remained at home the following day - on the lookout for beluga. Two days later he went sealing west of Saqqaq - in vain. The following day was Sunday, an extremely nice day; the hunter left Saqqaq about ten o'clock in the morning and returned empty-handed at three in the afternoon. He had set a few seal nets from land west of Saqqaq. I accompanied him on the next day, Monday. First, we tended a net close to the community and then another at Kinaa, ten kilometres farther west; both were empty. Heading farther northwest we saw seals outside Tartunaq and Atanikerluk, but eventually returned to Saqqaq without a seal. The following day the weather was bad. Wednesday, the hunter sailed west and returned an hour and a half later with a ringed seal, caught in his net. I have information from twenty-two of this hunter's trips during

Ecology of Staple Food: Sealing 133 TABLE 4.1 Recorded seal hunting trips of twelve men from Saqqaq hunting from open boat, October 1980-July 1981 Total number of trips

Total number of seals taken

Seals taken per trip

251

232

0.92

Note: The table does not include all hunting trips, but only those for which all data are reliable and unequivocal.

November and December that year (excluding trips to pursue beluga). From these trips, he returned with three harp seals and seven ringed seals (some caught in nets), making a total of ten seals or one seal every other hunting trip. Although fairly complicated to estimate, this figure holds true as concerns his seal hunting by boat the following summer. To verify the reliability of this figure, I made a similar compilation of 251 hunting trips made by twelve hunters from October 1980 to July 1981 (table 4.1) - trips from which I had been able to collect all necessary information. Table 4.1 seems not to deviate significantly from the approximate figure of one seal taken every second trip. Unfortunately from the perspective of the economy of hunting - some qualifications should be made to this table. First, it was easier to get information visually or from second-hand knowledge - in cases of successful hunting trips than from hunters who returned empty-handed. If one day, for example, we had no information on the activities of a hunter, but saw him flensing seal late in the afternoon, we knew that he had been out. Had he returned empty-handed, we would sometimes never have learned about it. Consequently, in the total number of hunting trips, there is an overweight of hunting trips from which there was a positive outcome. As far as table 4.1 is concerned, this indicates a minor overestimate of the number of seals taken per hunting trip. Second, it should be noted as well that, in many cases, two hunters from two different households hunted together, thus minimizing the costs but also the hunting returns accruing to each. My statistical conclusion is that less than one seal is taken per hunting trip, and during part of the open-boat hunting season only one seal is taken every second hunting trip. To these figures it should be added that some hunters generally have a very low figure, while others generally have a higher success rate. Why this rather negative interpretation of the data? Because I, as an

134 Saqqaq TABLE 4.2 Average price of sealskins traded to the trading company in Saqqaq in 1980 (numbers in brackets)

Price

Skins from ringed seals

Skins from harp seals

Average

122.65 DKR (496)

172.35 DKR (483)

147.54 DKR

observer, initially doubted the economic viability of seal hunting from open boat. With a success rate of less than 0.90 seal taken per hunting trip, this definitely confirms the negative economic correlations between sheer economic costs (gasoline, ammunition, and depreciation of boat and motor) and cash earning (sealskin). Table 4.2 shows the average price of sealskins traded to the Greenland Trading Company in Saqqaq in 1980. Without entering an extended economic calculation, an average of 147.54 DKR per sealskin or a cash income of even less per trip (when using boats) can hardly cover the costs. In conclusion, my 'rational' calculations that afternoon when we returned with a harp seal seem relevant; no explanation relating to cash income or market factors can account for the fact that seal hunting by boat is one of the most preferred activities in Saqqaq. This non-commercial perspective is further substantiated by the fact that hunters continue seal hunting with boats at the same time as processing of sealskins has decreased drastically in the early 1990s, with the result that there were very few skins to be sold. Thus, in 1995, the figures were 99 skins from harp seals and 44 skins from ringed seals (in 1980: 483 and 496).1 This lack of economic correlation between expenditures and income has also been described by other observers in other parts of Greenland (Forchhammer 1989: 29, 37; Nuttall 1992: 178ff) and in Arctic Canada (Wenzel 1991: 64ff). The hunter who returns with a seal is a provider - for his family and for his meat gift partners in the community. In a Greenlandic hunting community, exchange is a fundamental part of the subsistence system, and meat is the means par excellence. Whereas beluga hunting epitomizes the collectivity of the community, the exchange of seal meat is the most fundamental of all interpersonal exchanges. Much of the equality of the community is embedded in the exchange of seal meat, which ensures that nobody will be without this most essential food for a long period of time. It is therefore crucial to consider hunting of seals by boat 1 From Granlands Statistik 1996b: 1.

Ecology of Staple Food: Sealing 135 not only as an economic venture, but as a cultural achievement. Based on material from a hunting community in Upernavik district, Nuttall (1992:180) has similarly stressed this aspect of exchange (using the word 'sharing'), and he goes so far as to write that 'any threat to seal hunting is a threat to community life, to the relationship of human beings to their environment, to animals, and to each other. The continuity of subsistence hunting provides the foundation for a secure kin-based network, for sharing, and for the continuity of both person and community.' In people's minds sealing can be a distinctive phenomenon in so far as they feel 'hungry' if too many days have passed without having had boiled seal meat. The old people in particular complain about it. One afternoon we were sitting around the table in the house of an elderly couple, drinking coffee with cookies. The iron stove was supplying a comfortable warmth. But the woman looked sad, her elbow on the table and her head in her hand. She dipped a piece of sugar and then a cookie in her coffee and suddenly said, 'Perlerpugut/ meaning 'We are hungry' or 'starving.' She went on to complain about not having more seal meat in the freezer; for 'a long time' they had not been given any gift of seal meat. Most households eat seal meat at least once a day or every other day. Besides having cultural significance, seal hunting is an important subsistence activity and, as such, an economic pillar for the community. But before I go into this subject further, a few remarks about hunting from boats should be made. Seal hunting by boat takes place from early spring to early winter. In fact, it would be more accurate to say that people go out with their boats whenever there is an opportunity. When there is open water, it is only during the ammassat fishery and the beluga hunting periods that sealing from boats has a secondary position. In recent years, when more hunters have entered Greenland halibut fishing, sealing has also become more of a 'by chance' or 'opportunity' activity. When the ice starts forming in early winter, the hunters continue to go out in their boats as long as possible; even after ice has covered the bay the hunters prefer to go out in their boats every time an open water channel makes it feasible. It would be extremely wrong, however, to conclude, from the fact that sealing in some seasons has become second in importance to Greenland halibut fishing that sealing in general has become a secondary activity. Thus, in 1996, in the weeks following the break-up of the sea ice, all the hunters went sealing, and fishing for Greenland halibut was absolutely of secondary importance. Every time they were asked

136 Saqqaq what they would do the next or later the same day, the hunters answered that they would (preferred to) go sealing - and they hoped there would be an opportunity for pursuing beluga. Most hunters seem to favour open-boat sealing over other types of sealing and also over the other activities of those seasons. I assume that there is more prestige in shooting a seal compared to taking seals in nets, which helps explain why setting open-water nets in the autumn is done by only a few hunters who have no boats or are otherwise disadvantaged, or because the family is truly longing for seal meat. Likewise, hunting seals augments the prestige of being a hunter, which working for salary does not. The hunters go for seals - at least they prefer to. On a quiet summer afternoon or evening, nearly all boats will be out sealing, usually for hours. Often the hunters return without having killed any seals. But very often, while sealing the hunter has also shot some eider ducks, guillemots, kittiwakes, gulls, or other sea birds. This might seem insignificant - but it is not. It is my impression that birds are a resource that is grossly underestimated both in terms of quantity and from a strategic point of view. As one of several economic niches available to the Saqqarmiut, birds are often seen as a much appreciated food, but specifically in the autumn they might also be a kind of last resort, when days of stormy weather cause the seal hunt to fail. In late autumn and early winter, darkness and stormy weather inhibits hunters from leaving the settlement for days on end. Thus, when the longing for seal meat pushes hunters out at the slightest opportunity, they often go in vain. But, in such a case, they always try to return with some birds. An estimate of the activity of thirteen hunters from 15 November to 31 December 1980 reveals that, on an average, they embarked upon hunting trips only every third day (table 4.3). If social activities or consumption of alcohol have prevented the hunter from fulfilling his role as provider, or if a temporary salaried job keeps him from hunting, a teenaged son sometimes resorts to hunting birds. In the light summer evenings of June, July, and August, teenaged boys are often seen at the top of Nuugaarsuk waiting for eider ducks that migrate along the coast in flocks. As birds pass over promontories, they are vulnerable targets for hunters hiding behind rocks, and when shot they are easily retrieved from a rowboat. One schoolboy, who stayed alone with his grandmother and a smaller sister, used much of his leisure time in late winter one year to go inland by dog sledge for ptarmigan. Although the overall economic value of this kind of activity might seem limited, it can be of nutritional importance, and in addition, it has an important socializing role.

Ecology of Staple Food: Sealing 137 TABLE 4.3 Recorded hunting days and home days at Saqqaq, 15 November-31 December, 1980 Total number of days recorded

Hunting days

Home days

A B C D

20 23 27 28 36 29 33 21 22 21 31 23 27

5 10 14 10 21 16 11 3 7 10 7 6 8

15 13 13 18 15 13 22 18 15 11 24 17 19

13

341 100%

128, average 9.8 37.5%

213, average 16.4 62.5%

Hunters

E F G H I J K L M

Note: None of these hunters had a salaried job during this period. Days for which I had no information are not recorded.

Thus, the taking of birds is a significant subsidiary activity that enhances the total subsistence value of sealing - although the latter is actually what the hunter is aiming for. According to my account, sealing by boat has primacy in relation to most other activities, including other types of sealing - in practice as well as in the sense of cognition. The primacy of sealing by boat seems first of all to be explained by the fact that it is a direct evolution of sealing by kayak, which was the dominant type of sealing in this part of Greenland until the 1960s. Hunting by kayak was the job of a genuine hunter. From this activity he gained prestige and a reputation as a piniartorsuaq. Sealing by boat is a continuation of this activity, only with new means of production, and great prestige is still associated with open-water seal hunting. Furthermore, despite the technical development of the hunting equipment, the hunter has remained in control (of the hunting as such and of the means of production) as this is vested in the role of being a hunter. His status as hunter is achieved, and hunting seals by boat is what really distinguishes the skilled hunter from the less skilled. During the past two decades, productive activities other than sealing have gained more and more importance - first of all, fishing and sala-

138 Saqqaq ried employment in the fish-processing plant. Like ammassat fishing, these activities are cash-oriented. Although, in many respects, these changes have had quite a radical effect on the community, they have not challenged the role of seals as the most important subsistence resource. From Innaarsuit, a settlement in the northern municipality of Upernavik, Forchhammer (1989) has reported that, to a growing extent, seals are harvested from boats as subsidiary to other activities - and not vice versa. My own observations from Saqqaq2 do not generally support Forchhammer's analysis, even though many similarities between Saqqaq and Innaarsuit should make the development in the two settlements comparable. Both are hunting communities in which processing facilities have been established. Forchhammer interprets the trend, as he has observed it in Innaarsuit, as reflecting rising costs of production (boat, motor, gasoline, ammunition), a general increased need for cash, and the relatively low prices offered for sealskins. With the establishment of the fish-processing plant and the investment in larger fishing boats by the Saqqarmiut, a similar trend should thus be expected in Saqqaq. The deviation, as I observed it in Saqqaq, could be a transient phenomenon, but it might also indicate that the Saqqarmiut have always been used to fishing, while fishing is a new undertaking in Innaarsuit. So far, commercial Greenland halibut fishing has been incorporated into the harvesting strategy of the Saqqarmiut. Following Forchhammer's argument, the logic would then be that the development that makes sealing a secondary activity could have been postponed, but presumably not completely avoided, if the prices for sealskins had not been so low. The fact is, however, that the prices the hunters have received for sealskins remained more or less constant during the 1980s and 1990s, correlated with the consumer price index. The process, therefore, as observed by Forchhammer, should be expected to have been even more pronounced, had not Home Rule authorities intervened and subsidized the marketing of sealskins, with the result that for many years the average price of sealskins followed the Greenlandic price index (table 4.4). The effect of fluctuations of sealskin prices on the economy of Saqqaq and on the household economy is dealt with more thoroughly in chapter 6. There is nothing in my data either to support observations from 2 These coincide with observations made by Ludger Muller-Wille in Naujaat in Arctic Canada in 1973 (pers. comm.).

Ecology of Staple Food: Sealing 139 TABLE 4.4 Numbers and average prices of sealskins marketed, in relation to the consumer price index, Greenland 1980-92

1980 1981 1982 1983 1984 1985 1988 1989 1990 1991 1992

Number of sealskins

Total price2 (1.000DKR)

Average price per skin inDKR

63,908 55,663 55,211 47,842 52,514 50,526 57,545 45,038 53,471 64,530 69,140

9,4562 7,8022 9,1572 8,5622 9,585 10,860 13,941 11,664 15,095 19,629 20,382

148 140 166 179 183 215 242 259 282 304 295

Consumer price index1

108.1 121.3 133.4 146.2 154.5 180.5 191.1 198.9 206.7

210.2

Corrected price per sealskin inDKR

1483 130 137 134 125 139 134 136 142 147 140

Source: Gronlands Statistik. 1 January 1981 = 100.0. The figures used are from July. 2 In 1980-3 bonuses were paid to the hunters, and are included here. 3 This figure is not exactly correct, but there is a significant drop in prices from 1980 to 1981.

East Greenland, which correlate the prices of sealskins with the fact that people turn to other activities (Larsen 1987: 36-7), or to support the argument put forward by Forchhammer, who relates the development to the generally low prices on sealskins as traded by the hunters. To close this section on seal hunting by boat, two points should be emphasized: first, that in Saqqaq sealing by boat is carried on disregarding sheer commercial considerations; and second, that there are indications of a change in the economic significance of sealing in relation to other activities, mainly commercial fishing, which for this discussion only seems to emphasize the non-commercial character of sealing. Types of Sealing As the number of daylight hours decreases towards the end of the year, seal hunting by boat is confined to a few hours, and only on those now fewer and fewer days of calm weather. Increasingly, therefore, some of the hunters turn to the more reliable method of setting open-water seal nets, immarsiutit, from land, which can be practised when waves and twilight hamper shooting of seals on open sea.

140 Saqqaq When daylight becomes shorter in late autumn, ringed seals migrate close to land. Initially, the hunters set their nets near preferred hunting areas for harp and bearded seals, but gradually some hunters prefer to set their nets along the coast near Saqqaq, within easy reach by boat or by walking along the shore. However, icebergs moving in a northwesterly direction along the south coast of Nuussuaq peninsula and calving ice are constant threats, and some hunters complain that they have lost more nets than they have retrieved seals. These are the prime factors inhibiting widespread setting of open-water seal nets, which sometimes can be quite profitable. Thus, people usually - or ought to, as people sometimes say - stay home Christmas Day, but in 1980, as there was no wind that day, a hunter took off to tend his nets at Tartunaq - after the service, the catechist stressed. That day he returned with four ringed seals. Netting of seals in open water is not very prevalent, but it takes place during a transitional period when darkness prevails and before the sun returns and ice covers Disko Bay. Prescriptive rights to seal netting sites seem not to be as strong as those known from farther north (Nuttall 1992: 44); this could be explained by the insignificance among the Saqqarmiut of this type of harvesting. This is also the only time of the year when ringed seals as well as harp seals are significant game at the same time. Figure 4.1, which gives the data on trading of sealskins in 1980 and the first half of 1981, shows the relative seasonal importance of harp and ringed seals. There is a lapse of time between the day when a seal is harvested and the time when the skin is traded. This can amount to only a few days if the family is in urgent need of money, but the data available to me indicate that two to ten weeks is more usual. At least the period is longer than can be explained by the time used by the women to process the skin. The data on the harvesting of ringed seals that I obtained from January 1981 until July 1981 provide useful information. Although the figures on seals harvested are not exact numbers but observed numbers, their relative significance and distribution in time is reliable. Figure 4.2 clearly displays the peak harvesting period from 1 March to 15 April. The latter date is fairly exact because after 15 April no travelling on the ice was possible, and for some time that year people simply stopped harvesting seals and turned to other activities, such as travelling to Ilulissat to sell seal meat. Nevertheless, there is significant trading of ringed sealskins until the end of May and even after that date (figure 4.3).

Figure 4.1 Trading of sealskins, Saqqaq, January 1980-July 1981

Figure 4.2 Number of ringed seals harvested (as observed), Saqqaq, January-July 1981

Figure 4.3 Number of skins of ringed seals traded, January-July 1981

144 Saqqaq Even though the exact numbers in figures 4.2 and 4.3 cannot be compared (more seals are harvested than the figure revealed by my observations), sealskins are sometimes kept until there is a need for cash. The conclusion to be drawn from this phenomenon is that sealskins are treated as a kind of short-time capital to be used as an equalizer for cash income.3 During the open-water season, hooded seals and bearded seals are taken, but compared to ringed and harp seals, they are of minor importance. Some skins of hooded seals are traded, but the skins from bearded seals are used for other purposes, such as leashes and soles of sealskin boots. When ice forms along the coast in late autumn, a few hunters mainly the old and less skilled - walk from Saqqaq to set nets from the edge of the ice foot. In autumn 1995, we were told that only a few elders had nets from land east of Saqqaq, where they could be reached easily on foot. Far more significant is the setting of nets from small icebergs, which takes place as soon as larger sections of Disko Bay freeze over. In cold years when solid ice covers the sea for a long period, harvesting of seals in ice-nets is the most important type of sealing. In its present form, ice-net sealing was introduced by Danish merchants and colonists. The origin of any form of sealing with nets has been a much disputed topic. It was probably known in pre-colonial days - at least in open water - but was of little significance. Probably, too, it was introduced in Uummannaq in the 1760s by the merchant Johan Heinrich Bruun, and was soon adopted by Danish merchants, merchants' assistants, and trade managers throughout Northwest Greenland. The subject-matter and references to primary sources can be found in Ostermann 1917; Porsild 1919; Myhlenport 1920; Birket-Smith 1924; Gad 1974). In the early colonial days, products of hunting were a necessary means of subsistence for many Danish merchants' assistants living in remote communities. They adopted and improved upon sealing with ice-nets (Ostermann 1917: 15), developing it into a significant subsistence and commercial activity. The importance of this type of sealing to the Danish colonists is shown by the fact that the profits, that is, the number of retrieved seals, seem to exceed what is normal today for seals by Greenlandic hunters and fishermen using this method. This 3 A similar observation has been made among hunters in an East Greenland community where 'a store of dried skins means that the households have some control over their own cash production' (Hovelsrud-Broda 1997: 163).

Ecology of Staple Food: Sealing 145 fact also indicates that the attitude towards sealing among the Danes was different from the attitude of the Greenlanders. It should be noted as well that the Danish merchants often used Greenlandic helpers to tend the nets. Sealing had no cultural significance to the Danish assistants, who were often on the periphery of the local social network. Greenlandic hunters adopted net sealing more slowly and, as explained below, it was incorporated into the hunting economy and ecology in a way different from that practised by Danish colonists. In Saqqaq, net sealing was practised by the Danish trade manager Jens Andersen Geraae (Ostermann 1917: 20) from 1774, and only later adopted by the Greenlanders (Myhlenport 1920: 91). Nets and yarn were very expensive - possibly a significant factor in Greenlanders' reluctance to take up net sealing. As mentioned above, it is unknown whether net sealing under the ice was known in pre-colonial days. Nets made of baleen have been excavated, but the development of net sealing to its present form depended on the importing of yarn, which, in the early days, only Danish colonists could afford. Today, however, sealing with ice-nets is considered a traditional Greenlandic activity. Now let us return to this activity as it is practised in Saqqaq nowadays. Among the first hunters to set ice-nets are those who for some reason are less successful at open-water hunting - older people, for example, who occupy all icebergs in the vicinity of the settlement, which can be reached on foot. The method used for harvesting of seals by ice-nets is the same all along the northern part of the West Greenlandic coast. Because seals like to swim near small icebergs, that is where nets are set. In the choice of an iceberg and a site, several factors are taken into consideration. The iceberg should have a gentle outward and downward sloping side under the water. The sea current is another determining factor in the selection of a good angle from where to set the net. A hole is cut in the sea ice at the edge of the iceberg, allowing the hunter to look down into the water and inspect the suitability of the site. If it is suitable, two more holes are cut in a row. A string is tied to the ice pick, which is pushed under the ice from the first hole to the next and then to the third. When the net is tied to the string it is easily drawn and set beneath the ice. It is also tied with strings to three small pieces of ice or wood above the three holes. Small stones or other heavy items are used to keep the net down. A good description is given in Hertz 1977.

146 Saqqaq Nets vary in size. A commonly used size is about 3 metres by 2 metres, but some are larger. Having finished the setting, the hunter makes a final check to see if the net is hanging smoothly and in a vertical position. When he returns the next day, the first thing he does is reopen the middle hole. A very gentle drawing of the string often indicates whether a seal has been caught, but to be sure, all trash ice is removed from the hole. Kneeling with head down, hands around the eyes and breathing gently down into the hole to remove newly formed ice, one has a splendid look down into the water. If a seal has been caught it is usually hidden below the ice. A mirror tied to a stick reveals to which side the animal is. The hole nearest the seal is enlarged, the net is loosened in the other holes, and the seal is drawn up. After the seal and net are disentangled the net is set again. On a cold sunny morning in February, I joined a hunter to tend his nets. We walked a couple of kilometres southeast from Saqqaq and came to an area with many small icebergs. There was a seal in the first net we checked, but it was left to be retrieved on our return. The following four nets, a few hundred metres apart, were empty. Two more nets to the south could not be reached because a crack had formed in the ice. The hunter had set those two nets the day before. As we returned, we checked some nets belonging to the hunter's son, who had stayed at home with a hangover. From them, we retrieved one seal, which we dragged by a rope fastened to its head. This one was completely frozen by the time we got back to remove the seal from the first net we had checked, closest to Saqqaq. Even though the hunter had checked all his nets the day before, the head of the seal taken in the net nearest land was completely covered with red gammarus. These are a real problem, because they can spoil the skin within a day or two. Seals taken in shallow waters are especially threatened, and these nets are usually checked every day, while nets far from land are most often tended every second day. In the early days of the ice-netting season, many hunters wait for larger areas to be covered by ice so that they can go farther from Saqqaq with dog sledges. Choosing sites at ice-bound icebergs to set nets is a matter of free choice. To minimize walking or dog sledge travel distance, icebergs are usually selected within one area or in a line. As soon as the ice is safe for travelling, some hunters prefer to go far away. Early in the season of 1981 most nets were set east of Saqqaq, but a storm in February removed most suitable icebergs. When ice again covered the bay, most

Ecology of Staple Food: Sealing

147

Map 4 Area around Saqqaq used for seal netting, 31 January-10 February 1981

Map 5 Area around Saqqaq used for seal netting, March 1981

148 Saqqaq nets were set west or northwest of the settlement. Nets were set on the other side of the bay near Disko Island, and some hunters preferred areas in Vaigat outside Mannik and Qallu. In such cases, hunters often stay overnight in a hut or house in the closed-down settlement of Ujarasussuk (Alangoq). If hunters return to Saqqaq the same day, the dogs then need a day of rest; thus a pattern is set of tending faraway nets every second day. If a hunter is unable to go out, he can ask a friend or relative to tend his nets. If he does so, the retrieved seals always belong to the hunter in whose net they were caught. Ownership of seals is meticulously observed, even between father and son. In several cases, I have observed a young hunter returning with seals only to learn later from other people that the same hunter was unsuccessful. But, people said, his father who I knew had hardly left his sofa for days - had got a couple of seals. This form of mutual support is, if not the reason behind it, at least made possible by the fact that friends and relatives often set their nets in areas near one another. There are few rules and regulations in the setting of nets. An area exploited one year by one hunter may be 'occupied' by another the following year. This is not primarily explained by the fact that an area with many icebergs one year can be left without any next year. A hunter who has lost a net in a storm or removed it may see the same area or even the same iceberg 'occupied' by another later in the season. Two hunters can even have nets at the same iceberg, on condition that the nets cannot become tangled. Among hunters from the same settlement there is no territorial exclusiveness - even no use right or prescriptive rights to ice-netting sites. What Woodburn writes with reference to IKung Bushmen comes close to an understanding of this situation: 'Association with a particular locality seems usually to provide a means of identifying spatially, rather than a set of exclusive rights' (Woodburn 1982:437). In the choice of a site there seems to prevail a situation similar to the geographic orientation of drying grounds for ammassat located outside the community; that is, when choosing sites for their nets, hunters follow their social orientation within limits set by the physical conditions. Some hunters prefer by tradition to go to specific areas - for example, around Tartunaq, Mannik, or Ujarasussuk. Map 4 shows the areas used for ice-netting early in the season and map 5 the areas used and occupied in March. Finally, map 6 is the approximate area used and occupied for ice-netting in the winter of 1981, that is, from late January to mid-April.

Ecology of Staple Food: Sealing 149

Map 6 Area around Saqqaq used for seal netting, 1980-1

As already mentioned, hunters with no dog teams of their own (the old and the very young, for example) seem to be among the first to occupy sites within walking distance from Saqqaq. This is a relevant social fact, influencing a de facto use of a certain territory. In general, the territorial pattern of ice-netting of seals reveals a map of social relations, since friends and relatives sometimes leave together or prefer harvesting in neighbouring areas. A great variety of factors determines how many nets are set by each hunter. Ice condition was mentioned above; thick ice means that tending a net takes more time. Availability of nets in the store is sometimes mentioned. Last, but not least, the hunter's mood and inclination supervenes. On one day in February, I estimated the number of nets to be about 140 divided among twenty-five hunters. A few hunters had only one net that day and only two had more than ten (twelve and seventeen respectively). Part of this story is that all 140 nets were taken away by a storm the day after I recorded the numbers. But new nets replaced the lost ones after a few days. A hunter keeps a count of how many seals he has caught in his nets, and with a broad grin on his face, he will tell about all those he has lost.

150 Saqqaq Nets are either bought in the store or home-made. Everybody knows how to make nets. Money, mood, and availability of nets in the store determine a hunter's decision whether to buy the nets or to make them himself. In 1981, the store ran out of nets soon after the opening of the season so the hunters had no choice but to make their own. According to the hunters, this had happened before. Perhaps in its planning The Trade uses the average annual figure for taking home nets (and other items). If this is the case, a problem will arise every time a storm removes the nets early in the season. The archives tell that on 1 February 1907, The Trade manager in Saqqaq wrote to the colonial manager in New Ritenbenk that the hunters had lost all their nets and no yarn was available for them to make new ones.4 From the perspective of an outside observer, one could interpret this situation as a cultural tradition rather than as bad planning or an exception. The hunters of Saqqaq use other methods of sealing than open-water hunting and netting, but of them only uuttoq hunting - shooting seals that crawl up on the ice in spring to bask in the sun - is of any significance today. Hunting along the ice edge is only practised in late spring when boats have been launched. With kayaks no longer in use, when one travels by dog sledge, hunting along the ice edge is pointless because any seals shot cannot be retrieved. Waiting at breathing holes for the ringed seals is a laborious venture and very little practised; this type of hunting is best done by two or more cooperating hunters. Hunting on new thin ice (Da.: glatisfangst; Grl.: quasasiorneq) is known to the Saqqarmiut but seldom practised. On a quiet day with new ice, the hunter can hear the seal under the ice, and by following the sound he can shoot the seal at one of its breathing holes. This method is more common to the north in the landlocked Uummannaq fiord, where there is less sea current than in Disko Bay. Another kind of breathing hole sealing, maanneq, is still irregularly practised. When smooth ice is covered by a thin layer of snow, breathing holes are fairly easily spotted. One hunter with a gun remains at a breathing hole while another (or others) looks for other holes used by the same seal, trying to frighten it to the hole where the hunter with the gun is waiting. Alternatively, while the hunter with the gun remains at the breathing hole, his helper can walk in a huge circle gradually narrowing the radius in order to frighten the seal away from its breath4 In Inspekt0ren for Nordgronland Appat/Ritenbenk, Kolonibestyrer, Modtagne Breve. A 57.13.01, 13.22 pk.l, Greenland National Museum and Archive.

Ecology of Staple Food: Sealing 151 ing holes and into the breathing hole in the centre, where the hunter is waiting. In the 'old days' when several hunters went out together, they might each occupy a breathing hole, waiting for the seal to come up in one of them. Having succeeded they would go on to another seal's breathing holes. All types of breathing hole sealing are time consuming and far less productive than ice-netting and uuttoq hunting and are practised only coincidentally or for fun. When light has returned, when days grow longer and the temperature increases, the seals crawl up onto the ice. Relaxing and basking in the sun, seals are shot by hunters approaching behind a screen or maybe sometimes behaving like a seal, crawling gradually nearer the seal. This is the famous uuttoq hunting known from many Inuit societies (Birket-Smith 1924: 326ff; Balikci 1970: 83ff; Boas 1964: 75ff) and still practised today. Guns have replaced harpoons, making the hunt more efficient, but the seal is constantly on alert, raising its head regularly, and must be approached carefully - as always. Early in the season uuttoq hunting is practised when a hunter is travelling with dog sledge to and from tending ice-nets, but gradually uuttoq hunting takes over. These are the days when hunters return by dog sledge to Saqqaq, sitting on top of five to ten seals. Some hunters might choose to leave for Qeqertaq for a few days to pursue uuttut (pi.) in Torsukattak glacial fiord. Late spring is by far the most productive harvesting period of the year, when seals are netted and uuttoq hunting is practised. After break-up, uuttoq hunting continues, now from a boat. Sleeping seals are approached along ice edges and floes, and the curious seals are also attracted to the surface by scratching on the ice with an ice pick. Only ringed seals are harvested from uuttoq hunting and ice-netting. Following break-up, a few hooded seals are taken on ice and ice floes. Gradually, also harp seals returns, at the time of the year that harp seals migrate in schools called amisut. They are pursued but are difficult to retrieve, since they are very lean with only a thin layer of blubber, and they sink shortly after being shot. To summarize, sealing takes place in all seasons of the year. In Saqqaq, the ringed seal is the most important species, but in contrast to many other settlements of northwestern Greenland, harp seals are also taken in significant numbers. Ice-netting and uuttoq hunting are more productive than any other kind of sealing. This holds true as relates to number of seals taken and also as concerns the net monetary income.

152 Saqqaq In contrast to accounts from towns and from other regions of Greenland (Larsen 1987), importing of food for dogs is insignificant in Saqqaq. Heads and intestines from wolf fish and Greenland halibut, dried capelin, seal meat, and blubber are available in sufficient quantities in Saqqaq to make hunting with dog sledge commercially viable. Since the establishment of the fish-processing plant in Saqqaq in the mid-1980s and the introduction of commercial fishing of Greenland halibut, more fish entrails are now available for dog food. The commercial versus subsistence discussion is further dealt with in chapter 7, but a few remarks on the 'efficiency' of sealing should be made. In his famous essay on the so-called 'Original Affluent Society/ Marshall Sahlins writes, with reference to aboriginal Australians, that they 'seem to underuse their objective economic possibilities' (Sahlins 1972: 17). Without entering deeply into a discussion on the whole concept of affluent hunting and gathering societies, I am inspired by Sahlins' analysis - made by an observer and not by the people themselves - to make some observations in Saqqaq, from which to gain an understanding of structural relations between subsistence and commercial foraging activities in a Greenlandic hunting community. As compiled by me, the data show that in the autumn and winter, until the beginning of capelin fishing, every second day is a day devoted wholly or primarily to non-economic activities (relaxing, socializing, visiting, drinking), and about 40 per cent of all days are hunting and fishing days (table 4.5). I take these figures as more or less reliable for a full year. Even though some hunters for some time might invest a lot of time in one type of activity (ammassat fishing, uuttoq hunting), this only seems to be followed by a lengthy period with a low level of activity. In recent years, there has been an overall and unequivocal trend towards more time being spent in salaried jobs (including jobs on trawlers and fishing boats) and less and less time spent in hunting activities. There has also been a trend over time for more and more people to practice commercial fishing during summer, autumn, and late winter. Whether this takes place as long-lining through holes in the ice, from one's own boat, or as a crew member on a trawler or fishing boat, it implies a more continuous investment of labour than is required by hunting. Considerably fewer productive hours are used on days devoted to hunting than on days devoted to salaried jobs. That is, to judge from my data, and in support of Sahlins, there is no doubt that, in a historical perspective, the number of hours devoted by the men to

Ecology of Staple Food: Sealing 153 TABLE 4.5 Days of main activities of sixteen hunters from Saqqaq, as observed, from 13 November 1980 to 13 June 1981 (percentages and numbers)

13Nov.-31 Jan. 1 Feb.-14Apr. 15 Apr.-13 June

Days of hunting and fishing

Non-working days1

43% (276) 45% (367) 28% (204)

53% (343) 41% (341) 47% (344)

Wage work _3

8% (66) 6% (44)

Travelling2

4% (27) 5% (50)

20% (144)

Total observed

100% (646) 100% (824) 101% (736)

1 The reason - bad weather, feasts etc. - is not debated here. This also includes days when people were waiting for beluga. 2 Includes, for example, visiting, travelling to llulissat to sell meat or to work away from the community. 3 None of the hunters used any time for wage work in this period.

productive activities has grown since the introduction of commercial fishing and salaried labour. The establishment of a fish-processing plant significantly added to this trend. The switch from hunting to salaried jobs means more work. In an annual perspective, the harvesting of seals is a regular and continuous activity, that is, there are short intervals when sealing yields to other activities, but there is no lengthy season without sealing. Seals are the basic resource of this community, and seal meat the 'bread and butter' for all but a few households. This is further underlined by the information compiled by me that indicates that no season of the year seems to disclose a correlation between the total amount of time used for harvesting of seals and the relative number of seals caught. Netting of seals under the ice and uuttoq hunting are the most productive sealing activities of the year (a large number of seals taken correlated with the time invested), but the information available does not indicate that considerably more time is spent on seal hunting in this season than is invested during the less productive open-water hunting period. Table 4.6 displays an increase in the duration of each hunting trip during the period with ice. Nevertheless, this cannot be fully seen as an intensification of the overall input. It is also partly explained by the statistical method employed; some hunters stay in a hunting hut for several days, and each of those days is enumerated as a trip of twentyfour hours' duration. Even if we conclude that a certain increase in sealing takes place in

154 Saqqaq TABLE 4.6 Hunting trips of fourteen Saqqaq hunters, and average number of hours per trip (observed),1 1980-1.

13Nov.-31 Jan. 1 Feb.-14Apr. 15 Apr.-13 June

Number of trips2

Average hours per trip

125

4.3 6.93 5.3

1343 114

1 Only trips for which information is available concerning the time of departure and time of return have been used. 2 The numbers reflect only information available and not any level of activity. 3 In this period, many hunting trips extended over more than one day, and the hunters stayed overnight in hunters' huts. Each day is considered a separate trip. The high average reflects, among other things, that a two-day trip the first day is counted as twenty-four hours; on a three-day trip each of the first two days are counted as twenty-four hours.

late winter/ due to more travelling, the conclusion must be that no more time - to any appreciable extent - is spent on harvesting seals in one season compared to other seasons. And even with the noticed increase in late winter, this figure would be nothing compared to the output of each trip, which can be estimated to be two to four times higher than at any other season. Increased output per invested labour hour does not significantly increase the overall labour input. Also worth considering is the gender perspective in relation to the amount of effort put into seal-hunting activities. Processing and preparing of the sealskins for sale to The Trade is the job of the women. When a hunter returns with several seals, this adds to his wife's prestige as well as his own, and it represents a lot of work for her. In households where an adult son is an active hunter too, the burden of processing and preparing skins can be heavy, especially in late winter. In wintertime, the seals can remain frozen outside for a short time until the hunter's wife has time for flensing and for scraping the skin. After removing the blubber, she can choose to dry the skin for longer than usual before she washes it again, thus extending the processing period to accommodate the preparation of several skins. This might explain why so many skins from ringed seals are traded months after the uuttoq hunting: the women simply do not have time to prepare all the skins at once.

Ecology of Staple Food: Sealing

155

This delay is not possible during the summer when skins have to be prepared soon after the seal is caught. The skins are sometimes kept in water for a few days out of reach of the dogs, but in summertime when skins are less valuable, it is not unusual to see rotten sealskins floating at the waterline. In addition, more and more of the young women are unable (or unwilling) to process and prepare sealskins. The statistics do not show any correlation between the number of seals taken and the price obtained for the skins when traded. Some of the very skilled hunters (alone or combined with adult sons) obtain a high price and others a comparatively low price. What is significant is the distance between the hunter who receives the lowest price (for more than ten skins traded) and the hunter who scores the top. For ringed sealskins, the figures are 115.00 DKR and 169.38 DKR and for harp sealskins 137.19 DKR and 195.63 DKR (1980). In general, those who obtain the lowest price do so for both types of sealskins, indicating that there is considerable variation among households. Today, these factors combined do indeed aggravate the problem when the hunter returns with a large number of seals. The gender division of labour within the household as the unit of production may result in a bottleneck unless seal meat can be sold commercially and the skins can be processed by the women or by industrial means. Although meat is sold to some extent, when the ice disappears and travelling to Ilulissat becomes possible, the commercial factor does not cause the hunter to intensify his hunting activities. The limiting factor of the women's capacity to process skins has often been referred to by observers of Inuit societies and correlated with the need of a skilled hunter to have more than one wife (Burch 1988b: 28). Yet it must be remembered that the whole mode of production depends upon extensive flexibility in foraging activities to cope with various types of bottlenecks such as unpredictable weather conditions, variations in harvest yields, social inequalities, and the developmental cycle of households. This was the case in the traditional society as well as it is today. Returning again to the discussion of the intensity of hunting activities, it is the strength of the seal-hunting complex that a constant low level in this specific harvesting activity gives room for a flexibility unknown in industrialized production systems. This culturally determined factor seems to have remained unchanged under the influence of the world market or the intrusion of new political domains, and this cultural, ecological, and political context is the analytical frame to sub-

156 Saqqaq stantiate notions about affluence. It is precisely because there is a builtin system of taking a large number of unpredictable factors into account that the hunting mode of production in general and the seal-hunting complex specifically have survived, developed, and integrated new technology. This is one of the themes of chapter 7. But first we need to look into the significance of territory in the social structure of a hunting community.

5 Man and Territory

In a geographical sense, territory in Greenland has three dimensions: water areas, the frozen sea, and the land. An analysis of relations between man and territory should, thus, consider not only the role of space, but also the significance of seasonal variations. The use of the territory varies from one season to another, and so might the rights of the individual and of the community. In a social sense, territory is the cultural landscape that is occupied, used, and appropriated by human beings. Territorial rights as we know them from Saqqaq are collective or communal rights inherited through generations. Rights to the land, the ice, or the water might be bestowed on the individual as a member of the community, even if this membership is only for a few days as in the case of a person from outside visiting his relatives in the community. Seen from inside the community, the right to use and have access to the territory and the right to participate in the hunt is the same for all members of the community. There is nothing to monopolize for oneself or one's family.1 But what is most significant is that as a member of the community, the person is part of, or included in, a network of social relations and social obligations. This includes abiding to the rules prevailing in the community, the sharing procedures, and the customary exchange of meat and mattak. As a member of the community, one is also expected to share information and knowledge. The drying of capelin revealed an appropriation of space that to some extent reflected social relations internal to the community. The spatial 1 This is the ideal situation. In other parts of Greenland, there are places where some families developed exclusive use rights to fish-net sites. The use of such sites could be inherited. See R. Petersen 1963.

158 Saqqaq setting of seal nets under the ice pointed in a similar direction. Unfortunately, I have no information on berry gathering, but in this case also I would suspect that the social organization of the community is transferred to or reflected in the geographical distribution of harvesting activities. In a diachronic perspective, the occupancy of capelin drying sites near the settlement revealed the existence of family usufruct or prescriptive rights. Vague usufruct rights were also mentioned in relation to netting seals from land, but because of physical factors this type of sealing is of limited significance to the Saqqarmiut. These territorial orientations relate to the community and basically do not involve other communities. The hunters from Saqqaq do practice uuttoq hunting near Qeqertaq, and hunters from there and from other places arrive in Saqqaq during the beluga seasons. As far back in history as the sources give us information, the hunters from Saqqaq have fished Greenland halibut in Torsukattak close to Qeqertaq. Those fishing grounds were considered to 'belong' to the people of Qeqertaq; nevertheless, this did not exclude hunters from other communities from going there. The minutes of the local district council meetings and communal council meetings from around the turn of the century provide us with numerous examples, such as the following illustration excerpted from Saqqaq communal council, 31 January 1916: 'because of bad new ice in January, it was very difficult for the hunters to earn a living, and it has been only in the last days that they have fished Greenland halibut at Qeqertaq's fishing ground.' The Saqqarmiut have reported that some generations ago there were no ammassat close to Saqqaq, and then they used to fish farther away from the community. It may be that they met with people from other communities. None the less, I have never heard of hunters setting seal nets or dried ammassat on land that is considered to 'belong' to another community, unless they, for shorter or longer duration, stay there as a member of the community. Nevertheless, there is land that seems to have a status comparable to a kind of 'everyman's land.' In a case from the early decades of this century, and soon to be mentioned, the communal council in Saqqaq expressed the wish for outsiders to apply to the council before they were allowed to settle there. This was a response to a very specific situation, which concerned hunters who wanted to settle in northern Vaigat. Here, it is important to emphasize that the intention of this move was not to exclude outsiders, but to maintain local social control by incorporating activities that took

Man and Territory 159 place in 'everyman's land' or, more correctly, inhibiting any establishment of a 'no-man's-land.' They did not want uncontrolled hunting to develop in Vaigat, which could affect them negatively. In fact, the Saqqarmiut also tried to stop one from their own community (Pavia Jensen) a few years earlier when he settled at the northern end of Vaigat at the outskirts of Saqqaq's territory. Of course, there might be some competition between various communities in relation to hunting sites, but, seen from the viewpoint of members of the community, it is definitely the case that no one should be outside social control. There are always overlapping territories in which more than one community has some kind of vested interest, where people meet to hunt together, and where more than one social system exerts control, but the real problem is to inhibit activities that are outside any control. As no hunting territory is absolute or exclusive, there will always be territorial and social interregnums where innovative or asocial individuals will seek refuge. Any such move will be opposed by community members, a position different from actions intending to create monopoly or exclusiveness. What is at stake is social control and not institutionalized power. A kind of proof of the existence of this 'everyman's land' (the common) is that the geographical range of one community relative to the territory of others has often given rise to disputes between communities. In the early decades of this century, the Saqqarmiut had a longlasting dispute with the Nuussuarmiut (inhabitants of the settlement Nuussuaq). Saqqaq wished to construct a hunter's hut seventy kilometres to the north, at Ivissussat near Ataartaa2 [Ataa], but they did not want people from Nuussuaq to establish a permanent outpost there. In relation to this, the minutes of a meeting of the Saqqaq communal council say: Tn this connection we cannot permit the Nuussuarmiut to move to Ataartaa, because, as a matter of course, we do not like to grant part of our hunting area to others, at the same time as we ourselves believe that our territory is already too small.'3 Three years before that, 30 April 1919, 'the council negotiated about the border of Saqqaq commune. It is now usual that the Nuussuarmiut, during the period when the seals migrate south during August, September, and October, hunt too much within the border. The council is now sure that when hunting takes place there (in Vaigat), the seals disappear at Saqqaq and Tartunaq 2 This must have been at the same site or close to where Pavia Jensen from Saqqaq had established a small outpost for some years. 3 Minutes from communal council meeting 28 February 1922.

160 Saqqaq during autumn, and this always results in hunger during winter, because the people are unable to store enough supplies. The communal council stated that the Nuussuarmiut should not be allowed to construct houses at Ataartaa.' Similar conflicts have been noted between the Saqqarmiut and the neighbouring communities to the east, and together with Ujarasussuk, Saqqaq tried to have hunters prevented from settling at Qullissat, when it was established as a mining community. My interpretation of these cases and more recent ones, such as the fishing vessels from Ilulissat that hunt beluga and narwhal in Vaigat (mentioned in chapter 2), is not that the Saqqarmiut want to exclude outsiders from their traditional territory, but rather to ensure that these people remain within or are included in the community-based social network and social control. A person who settles within Saqqaq's territory will harvest resources that 'belong' to the Saqqarmiut, but more important than this competitive aspect is that he enters the social sharing and exchange network, and thus adds to the security and well-being of everyone in the community. If hunters from Nuussuaq were to settle at Ataartaa, they would not join Saqqaq's social network; rather they would either establish a new network radiating from Ataartaa or remain within the Nuussuaq-based network. This would not exclude the Saqqarmiut from hunting at Ataartaa - provided they enter the Ataartaa or Nuussuaq network and its implications in relation to sharing and exchange. If we wish to continue along this line and enlarge the scope of the territorial analysis from family and community and to inter-community relations, we should draw upon new material. Caribou hunting, although economically insignificant today, can help shed insight into these areas. Caribou Hunting In the mountainous western part of Nuussuaq peninsula, caribou hunting has always been limited to broad river valleys, as shown on map 7. The name of the largest of these valleys, Aaffaarsuaq, even means 'the great caribou hunting area.' The map displays the main or primary caribou-hunting districts on Nuussuaq from early colonial days until sometime after World War II. In this area, caribou were pursued by hunters from the northwestern, western, and southwestern settlements of Nuussuaq and to some extent by hunters from communities across Vaigat.

Man and Territory 161 Several sources point to Saqqaq Valley, Kuussuaq, and Aaffaarsuaq as the main hunting areas of the Saqqarmiut, and written as well as oral accounts indicate that caribou on Nuussuaq must have been much more abundant and widespread than today. Once they were so abundant on Nuussuaq that the caribou were said to come right down to the settlements winter and summer (Ostermann 1940: 58). They even came down from the basaltic plateau, through narrow gorges, to the coast of Nuussuaq opposite Disko Island, near the old inhabited places of Mannik and Ataa. '[At Mannik] caribou more often come down to the seashore, and therefore this place is very much liked by Greenlanders as a tent camp site during summer' (Rink 1852: 30). 'The tent camp site Mannik, 2l/2 miles (25-30 km) from Atanekerdluk belongs to one of the most beautiful regions in North Greenland. Here the Greenlanders stay in summer to hunt caribou and fish capelin' (Rink 1857,1:144). The significance of caribou was at least of a magnitude that, at the turn of the century, made the settlement manager (trade assistant) from Saqqaq mention it often in his report to the colonial authorities. In the 1950s, a hunter stated that formerly they used to hunt caribou from Ataa and Mannik (NEUG, Julius Br0nlund). That is similarly recounted by a well-known Saqqarmioq, Angunnguaq (Pavia Jensen), from the turn of the century: 'September passed. Snow was falling on the mountains and the reindeer moved down towards the coast. One day when the children woke up, their mother told them that their father had gone reindeer hunting from Mannik. He came back the same evening with a couple of fat reindeer. He might be able to make the trip again with good results' (H.C. Petersen 1986: 179; see also Rikli 1911: 194f). In 1943, during World War II, the people from Qullissat are reported to have shot fifteen caribou that year (Gr0nlandsposten [A/G] 1943, 23: 275) and in 1945, twenty-three that could have been from the land behind Mannik. The existence of a six-hundred-metre caribou fence at Saputit east of Saqqaq bears witness to times when caribou was more plentiful in the eastern part of Nuussuaq peninsula as well. No Saqqarmiut or others from the area has ever accounted for the use of this fence, although oral traditions existed in Ilulissat in the beginning of this century indicating that ancestors went north hunting caribou in the environs of Saputit (Porsild 1920: 306). In support of a past more plentiful with caribou, Rink wrote in 1852 that 'to Nuussuaq [peninsula] people usually did not come from far

162 Saqqaq

Map 7 Primary caribou-hunting territories used by settlements before 1960 (sources: Rink, Rosenkrantz, Neug)

away, but those Greenlanders living along the coast of the peninsula very often made long trips into the interior. Usually they only carry some food to last a day and sleep out or under a shelter of turf; but as soon as they have caught caribou they miss neither food nor tent.' (1852:180). People used to hunt caribou in areas near settlements or camps. Geologist Alfred Rosenkrantz, who walked with hunters from Saqqaq into the interior of Nuussuaq in the late 1930s, wrote in 1943: In those two summers that I travelled in Auvfaarssuaq, I observed that Greenlanders have divided the interior of Nugssuaq very meticulously

Man and Territory 163 according to hunting of caribou in autumn (August and September) - the only time of the year when caribou hunting is allowed. The inhabitants from Tartunaq and Sarqaq go hunting from Nernartut along the south shore of Taserssuaq and in Sarqaq Valley proper. From Qutdligssat people pass the border mountains in lower Ata Valley and hunt between Nernartut and Nussaq, south of Kugssuaq. From Niaqornat and, until August 1938, also from the now abandoned settlement Nugssuaq, people had the terrain north of Kugssuaq up to Agate Valley, whereas hunters from Qaersut used the terrain east of the river in Agate Valley along the northern shore of Kugssuaq and Taserssuaq. The demarcations between these hunting districts are mainly rivers with abundant water and thus difficult or impossible to cross. (92-3)

In his account Rosenkrantz tells us that the country in the western section of Aaffaarsuaq was unknown to his escorting hunters from Saqqaq, and according to him, they knew the name of only one mountain top there. In spite of this observation, an old hunter from Saqqaq told us that he, as a younger man, once went caribou hunting for two weeks in the interior of Nuussuaq, including Aaffarsuaq, but that he did not go as far as the settlement Nuussuaq at the western spit of that peninsula. Practical considerations and logistics alone speak for the existence of some kind of hunting territory, but not for territorial tenurial rights. In the early 1950s, a hunter from Niaqornat, at the north side of Nuussuaq peninsula, narrated that when he was a child they went hunting not only in the westernmost part of Nuussuaq peninsula, but also farther south behind the settlement Nuusaq (Nussaq) (not to be confused with the settlement Nuussuaq (Nugssuaq) farther to the northwest of Nuusaq and northwest of the great central river). His father had described trips by boat to Qarajaq behind Ikerasak, where they hunted caribou in the eastern Nuussuaq peninsula, and he had even heard of hunters who walked from Niaqornat and met hunters from Ikerasak at their hunting grounds (NEUG, Tobias Kruse). In the case ofammassat drying grounds, we saw that people practised loose claims to the drying grounds, when these de facto are being used. We also observed that a spatial fading out of these rights, radiating from the community, seems to be prevalent. Caribou hunting diverges from this, simply because people do not occupy a certain tract of land, but follow the migrating animals. The few accounts we have from the days when caribou were plentiful on Nuussuaq indicate a mutual

164 Saqqaq orientation towards members of neighbouring communities, which signifies a loosening of community-based rights radiating from one's own community, and conversely that one plays the explorer's role when approaching other communities. In the 1950s and 1960s, the caribou herds on Nuussuaq peninsula diminished considerably, and in 1969, the Provincial Council issued a ten-year ban on all caribou hunting on the whole peninsula. An old hunter from Saqqaq told me that he used to hunt in Saqqaq valley and in Qooroorsuaq as late as 1968. The ban was extended, but from 1981 and throughout the 1980s a small quota was allocated to each community that could claim to have a hunting tradition on the peninsula. In 1981, Saqqaq was allocated a quota of four, and although a small increase in quotas has taken place since, it never gained any economic significance. Finally, a new ban was issued. In 1996 the Saqqarmiut were again allowed to take a small number of caribou (one hundred caribou in all were allowed to be taken on Nuussuaq peninsula). The prospect of having fresh boiled caribou meat and caribou tallow to put in their coffee can animate most people. In regard to the discussion on hunting territory, an interesting development has taken place. Today, the western part of Nuussuaq peninsula, that is, all the traditional hunting grounds of Saqqaq and settlements northwest of Saqqaq, is virtually empty of caribou and no hunting takes place there. Hunters from the western settlements, who in the 1980s had rights to hunt caribou, sailed to the root of Nuussuaq peninsula - areas traditionally 'belonging' to hunters from settlements like Qeqertaq and Ikerasak (see map 8). Even in this area the caribou stock was depleted in the early 1960s, and in 1968, ten tame animals were transferred from Nuuk (Itinnera) to eastern Nuussuaq. These ten animals have propagated by 30-35 per cent annually. The caribou in western Nuussuaq (which are very few) are supposed to be descendants of the original local caribou herd (A/G no. 26,1987). In the 1980s, the right to hunt a caribou was usually given by drawing lots among full-time hunters and fishermen, and was taken care of by the local branch of the Hunters' and Fishermen's Organization. The lucky hunter would usually associate himself with some other hunters rather than go hunting alone. As far as community-based territorial rights to caribou hunting are concerned, we can note a developmental trend from early in this century to the reintroduction of caribou hunting in the 1980s. This is a

Man and Territory 165

Map 8 Caribou-hunting territories used by settlements in Uummannaq and llulissat muncipalities after 1981

process from a loose territorial right that a person had as a member of a community (even if only for a few days), towards rights being vested in a person as member of a social group such as the Hunters' and Fishermen's Organization, or as belonging to the category of full-time hunters and fishermen. Even if a sense of territory has never been very strong, the role of the community as a centre for such a territory is now gradually fading away. Among the factors explaining this process is the establishment of political institutions of great power and of wide territorial range, like municipalities and, since 1979, Home Rule institutions. This has other implications, for example, the fact that territory is no longer a regulating mechanism in harvesting activities. It is important to distinguish between hunting rights vested in membership of a social community and rights associated with an administrative unit. What might be considered the traditional hunting territories of various communities are, thus, not the same as the administrative

166 Saqqaq boundaries that have surrounded communes, districts, and municipalities. We have already mentioned that the Home Rule ordinance on beluga and narwhal hunting emphasizes that the relevant territorial unit is Greenland. In the case of the controversy between Saqqaq and the settlement Nuussuaq, already mentioned, the Inspectorate of North Greenland finally intervened, and in June 1923, wrote that no communal council could prevent people from outside from settling within its borders. It also stressed that 'the communal boundaries are not the hunting territories of its inhabitants, and no permission is needed from the communal council to hunt or to settle at an already inhabited place. These are old Greenlandic rights and cannot be changed by the communal councils/4 Before showing that the above-mentioned developmental trend can be found in other types of resource harvesting, I have to deal with the question of caribou-hunting territory in relation to family rights and to individual rights. I would guess that a territorial concept was more prevalent in former days when caribou was a family concern and involved a larger group of people. Most sources indicate that on Nuussuaq, as in other parts of Greenland, battue was prevalent in the 'old days' in contrast to the modern method of stalking. Climatic changes and the introduction of rifles were presumably major reasons why stalking completely took over from collective battues (Nellemann 1969/70 and Gr0nnov et al. 1983 give detailed and general accounts of development of caribou hunting in Greenland). In the late 1950s, when the Danish National Museum conducted ethnological questionnaire surveys in Greenland, battue had completely disappeared. Furthermore, all sources record that hunting caribou by dog sledge in wintertime was always carried out by an individual hunter or a few hunters (winter hunting on Nuussuaq was made illegal from 1927). When I posed questions on caribou hunting in the 1980s, nobody had memories of battues. 'Originally/ hunting of caribou was a family event; the discovery of hopping stones, naangissat, at Nernartuut in the interior of Nuussuaq clearly indicates that it had been a family camp site. In the 1930s, Rosenkrantz was told by his companions from Saqqaq that in the 'old days' that site was occupied every summer. 'Before the snow melted, 4 Circular to the municipal councils in North Greenland, dated 22 June 1923. In Greenland National Archive A 01.02, 04.22.

Man and Territory 167 women's boats (umiat) were brought to the lake at Nernartuut on dog sledge. The women fished salmon while the men hunted the huge herds of caribou throughout the summer' (Rosenkrantz 1943: 90). At Nernartuut, Rosenkrantz found tent rings and even some sod and stone houses, one with a stone roof. Men, women, and children participated in the battue; herds of caribou were driven by women and children towards the hunters, concealed behind stone cairns. Hunters in the 1950s remembered that the 'hunter' received the skin, but the meat was divided equally among all participating hunters. This seemed to have been prevalent (NEUG) at Nuussuaq, but some sources told of sharing each caribou according to the role each hunter had in killing the animal. As the hunters recorded it, equal sharing among all hunters in a team was only carried out in summertime. One hunter (NEUG: Julius Br0nlund) reported specifically that sharing was equal at a battue; that is, sharing was done only among the hunters. No source tells about women having sharing rights, but meat was also distributed to the community when the hunting team returned. To judge from caribou-hunting data and from the extended description of beluga hunting, larger collective hunting ventures in this century seem to have generated a pattern of an equal division of the catch among all participants. This indicates a general evolution in Greenland away from sharing based on role towards an equal sharing among participants (men). This in turn has the implication that there is an increased 'sharing or collective acquisition while consumption becomes more and more individualized and is limited to the immediate family circle' (R. Petersen 1972: 286). Now, let us again return to the question of territory specifically in relation to caribou hunting. With the introduction of guns and other more effective means of hunting and the occurrence of climatic variations (it became colder) - or as wolves came down from the ice cap (a reason given by a hunter, B & K 1933: 169) - the non-existence of exclusive territorial rights, or rather the breakdown of communal rights, led to depletion of caribou on Nuussuaq. This reminds us of the 'tragedy of the common' (Harding 1968), which in my understanding develops when communal territories and, specifically, the outskirts of the territories, the commons ('everyman's lands'), are turned into 'no-man'slands/ and everybody has unlimited access to limited resources. The consequences of this have been discussed in relation to caribou hunting from other Inuit areas as well (Usher 1981; 1987). In a renewed attempt

168 Saqqaq at resource management on Nuussuaq, Greenlandic authorities have introduced not territorial but social group rights. The example of caribou hunting on Nuussuaq clearly shows that in the case of scarce resources and unchanged rules under changed technological conditions, 'freedom in a commons brings ruin to all/ to use Harding's words. But most disastrous was the breakdown of territorial rights based on communal social control. The depletion of the original Nuussuaq caribou stock was the result of technological innovations combined with the demise of the social-territorial control mechanism. There are many similarities between this situation and the unsustainable harvesting of beluga that has caused alarm in Greenland in recent years. As a digression from this discussion I turn now to traditional coal mining on Nuussuaq, which can be taken as an illustration of the opposite phenomenon, because we are considering an abundant resource. Coal Mining In pre-colonial days, food was cooked and houses were warmed by burning oil from seal and whale blubber. Keeping the soapstone lamp burning was the woman's job, a job that required constant attention. With colonialism came the iron stove with which the Danish colonists heated their homes and cooked their food. The fuel used was coal, which was available in huge quantities on Disko Island and on Nuussuaq peninsula. The prices for imported iron stoves must have prevented Greenlanders from buying the new invention, and oil from seals and whales was available anyway. Nevertheless, during the first 200-250 years of colonization, the seal oil lamp gradually disappeared. Several factors can explain this. The use of iron stoves made it possible to have larger houses, to name only one. The Royal Greenlandic Trade Department bought blubber from hunters, which may have facilitated local adoption of the coal-heated stove as an alternative. Possession of iron stoves could have been a sign of status. A final factor may have been that coal stoves are supposed to be less laborious. In the nineteenth century, coal was mined on a commercial basis in a few localities on Disko Island and on the shores of Nuussuaq peninsula. To supply the Greenlandic market, coal was mined on an industrial basis at Qullissat from 1924 to 1972, when operations were stopped and more than one thousand inhabitants relocated.

Man and Territory 169 From Saqqaq, coal is easily available in several localities. These deposits can be used freely by everyone and no ownership right or usufruct right on an individual or local communal basis has ever developed in relation to coal deposits.5 Now it is even written in the Law of Mineral Resources that coal can be mined freely for subsistence purposes or 'for one's own use.' Coal is in no way scarce, and I have never heard any kind of territoriality mentioned in relation to this resource. Today coal is no longer mined in Greenland, either on commercial bases or for home consumption. The last hunter in Saqqaq to mine coal stopped doing so when he moved from Saqqaq to Ilulissat in the mid1980s. He usually mined coal at Mannik or near Ujarasussuk on Disko Island and sailed back to Saqqaq, but all other people bought coal at the store, coal imported from abroad. In earlier decades, coal was usually mined in Saqqaq valley, near Kitingusaaq, fifteen to twenty kilometres from the settlement. In wintertime, the hunters drove there with dog sledges and mined coal themselves. As a subsistence resource, coal was mined for home consumption primarily, but also sold to The Trade. Later in the season, coal was very often traded back to the same hunters, but at a higher price. As a commercial resource, coal has never had any great importance in Saqqaq, and its significance should be seen as one of many subsistence niches that have been available. A project to mine coal on a large scale in Saqqaq valley was debated around 1980, but has now been completely abandoned. Territory and the Sea

In Saqqaq today, people remain by and large in the settlement during the whole year. But in a not too distant past, people moved out from the settlement each summer, when they moved into tent camps. Here, they often joined families from other settlements, and some even travelled over long distances to trade and to socialize. Thus, in those days, a community changed its membership and location during the physical year. Today, people stay in tents and in hunters' huts away from the settlement only one day or a few days at a time. Summer is now very 5 In 1957, the Greenlandic Legal Committee (Det Gr0nlandske Lovudvalg) refers from Qullissat that the local authorities could appoint a place for private coal mining. In the case that small investments were made, the investor was considered to have a right to that place. In Grenlandske Lovudvalg 1957.

170 Saqqaq often a time to visit relatives in other communities, in which case a family sometime stays away for longer periods. These remarks are made to stress the non-fixed, 'instantaneous/ and flexible character of territoriality in a geographic, spatial, and demographic sense (Meillassoux 1973; Layton 1986). This holds true in Saqqaq as it does in other societies based on harvesting and foraging of wild resources. Hunting during summer and hunting in wintertime was, and is, a matter of resources, expediency, and logistics. On the basis of social space and family relationships, territoriality as described above is in principle the same during all seasons. So is the concept of territory seen in relation to other communities, although shifting harvesting activities imply variations in the use pattern. Map 5 (p. 147) showed the actual area occupied for seal netting in March 1981 by hunters from Saqqaq. No hunter from outside Saqqaq had nets in this area. Map 6 (p. 149) showed the approximate total area used and occupied for seal netting during the winter 1980-1. In the uuttocj season, seal hunting by hunters from Saqqaq takes place as far east as Torsukattak, but during those days the hunters usually stay with friends and family in the nearby community of Qeqertaq. Like drying ammassat, netting seals means that people - for a limited period of time - occupy a site, whereas during uuttocj hunting, open-water sealing or caribou stalking, the hunter continuously follows the game animals. In summertime, hunters from Saqqaq sometimes fish cod near the former settlement Appat (Ritenbenk) or Greenland halibut near Qeqertaq. As a matter of fact, hunters go where the resources are available in sufficient quantities instead of depleting limited resources within a certain territory. An interesting perspective of territoriality comes up if we look at hunting of whales trapped in the ice, the sassat mentioned earlier. An old tradition said that when a sassat was discovered a message should be sent to the nearest inhabited community. In the 1930s, this rule was discussed in the North Greenland Provincial Council because of complaints that hunters and communities tried to keep the discovery of a sassat secret (B & K 1933:160f; Oldendow 1935: 274f). The result of that debate was that a provincial by-law was issued making the local council, kommunerdd, responsible for deciding whether a message should be given to other communities, depending on the size of the sassat.6 In 6 Regulativ for Ledelse af Savssat, Ordenens Opretholdelse og udbyttets Fordeling, Udstedt 13. nov. 1935.

Man and Territory 171 1958, the by-law was changed and responsibility was transferred from the kommunerdd to the police. In 1992, this responsibility was given to the local branch of the Hunters' and Fishermen's Organization, and since 1993, a message is to be given to the 'relevant communities.' However, while some hunters have been rewarded afterwards for giving notice of a sassat, I have never heard of the by-laws regarding a sassat being applied in practice, or rather any break of the mentioned rule, because as a matter of fact, the discovery of a sassat can never be kept secret. The important thing to note in relation to this discussion is that no exclusive tenurial right exists, but that in certain specified cases there is a territorial obligation to spread information, that is, to invite hunters from other communities to participate in the harvesting. Even if it is decided not to spread information of a sassat, no rule excludes people from other communities from participation. The significance of exchange of knowledge and information within the community will be dealt with in the next chapter. Since no notable stream or river with trout or arctic char is to be found near Saqqaq, nothing can be learned from there concerning territorial rights, ownership rights, or usufruct rights. Otherwise, as described from farther to the south (R. Petersen 1963), trout places exhibit some of the most well-developed examples of family prescriptive rights. The only significant fishing sites for arctic char in the vicinity of Saqqaq are at Appat. However, fishing there is very much restricted, and only the game officer, who was recruited from Saqqaq, seemed for some years to have put an effort into fishing there. Conclusion Although hunters from Saqqaq have voiced the opinion that fishing vessels from Ilulissat should, somehow, be excluded or restricted in their access to hunt beluga in the northern part of Disko Bay, this contradicts all traditions of non-exclusive harvesting practices. Furthermore, one of the preconditions of the open ecology of these hunting and fishing societies is availability of a large number of niches to counterbalance an ecologically insecure environment. This flexibility relates not only to resource exploitation but also to territory, and we are here confronted with one of the most striking examples of historical continuity of customs, in contrast to the many invented traditions otherwise mentioned.

172 Saqqaq The Greenlandic suffix -miut (from, belonging to, living in) has always been applied in order to place oneself in relative and complementary opposition to others. In that sense, and in that sense only, it is exclusive, but if taken as territorial behaviour, it 'is basically a mode of communication, serving to convey information about the location of individuals dispersed in space' (Ingold 1986: 133). To continue my reading of the argument, I agree with Tim Ingold as he makes a distinction between territorial behaviour and tenure, the latter being a mode of appropriation 'by which persons exert claims over resources dispersed in space' (ibid). Territoriality 'has nothing whatever to do with the maintenance, through active defence, of exclusive access to resources by a social group ...' Territoriality 'is one aspect of the organization of work, governing not the social appropriation of land but the practical conduct of its exploitation' (ibid: 143). This distinction seems to be very useful when applied to the territorial relationship between the Saqqarmiut and inhabitants from other communities both in a historical and in a recent setting. Even though the residents of Saqqaq have controlled the use of harvesting areas or only allowed people to hunt within its territory after they had become members of the community, this has never given rise to any kind of territoriality as exclusive maintenance of an area in the sense that this concept has been defined by Elizabeth Cashdan (1983: 47). But 'territoriality can be viewed as a type of resource management that depends on controlling and limiting access to resources' (ibid: 48). The right to hunt was imputed to a person because of defined social relationships or as member of the community and not because of possession (FienupRiordan 1990:139). Territorial rights are associated with de facto use of a certain territory and not with communal exclusivity, inheritance, or ownership. Territories overlap and the non-exclusiveness is associated with an open access to the resources. As it relates to the history of Greenland in this century as accounted for by old people, the most detailed analysis of this issue has been given by Robert Petersen (1963; 1965). Each community had a hunting territory, but since communities varied in size as well as location, so did hunting territory. 'A settlement or camp has its hunting territory in the nearest sea area, and everyone living there - even if only for a day or so - hunts there' (1963: 272). Thus, the hunting territory is more a natural hunting area than a territory based on exclusive tenurial rights. 'When individual families had their definite spring and summer camps, circumstances often led them to regard the places as their own territory

Man and Territory 173 though not to the extent that they could exclude others - no Eskimo could, for that matter, exclude anyone from his home' (ibid: 274). There is general agreement that these remarks are valid as a description of communal hunting rights in Greenland as they have been known since the early colonial days; that they are still valid in many respects is accounted for in previous chapters. Evolution and development, or rather decline, of caribou hunting on Nuussuaq peninsula has given us more details on this theme. However, hunting and fishing are no longer the concern of the hunters alone. Scientists, environmentalists, and politicians intervene in the methods being employed by the hunters, and national and international institutions determine permissible harvest levels. The rationality behind such interventions varies, but the effect is always that the right to make autonomous decisions and freely to dispose of means and methods is taken away from the hunters. From being a matter of access to a territory based on social control and membership of a local community, hunting and fishing today are turned into a matter of management as this is exerted by a centralized national community. It is obvious that some of such management procedures as adopted by Home Rule authorities to regulate hunting and fishing are in conflict with local customs as these have developed in small hunting communities like Saqqaq. Behind this is an evolution away from a situation where everyone has a right to hunt and fish as a member of a local community to a new situation where rights are allocated to individuals as members of socio-economic groups (fulltime hunters and fishermen, owners of fishing vessels) or simply as citizens of a new national Greenlandic community. Some of the implications of this are dealt with in the final chapter. Meanwhile, in the next two chapters, we remain within the world of social relations based on kinship, friendship, and membership in a small hunting community.

6

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour

Cooperation, Knowledge, and Exchange Standing on the doorstep to the shop, dressed in sealskin trousers, one of the hunters gesticulated as he talked to a younger hunter, who was carrying a few groceries. It was late winter and the former had just returned from tending his seal nets and from hunting uuttut. In detail he recounted an incident that had happened out on the ice. A few others on their way to the shop stopped to listen. The shop at Saqqaq is a meeting point. I would estimate that at least one person from every household goes to the shop twice a day. The wife might go in the morning and the husband in the afternoon, very often to buy only one or two items. In between, the children are sent on minor errands, or to buy sweets and biscuits, which are consumed in large quantities. It might depend on who has the time; it might depend on what is needed; but it also might depend on the information to be given or expected to be received. Buying cigarettes, potatoes, or kerosene is not shopping in the sense known in larger communities, but a social activity. When shopping is a social or cultural institution, the exchange of information is just as important as the buying of groceries. If the returning hunter has information to share, and if he is not too exhausted, he might go instead of his wife or one of the children. The doorsteps of the shop, the private kiosk, and the office are important meeting points, and an enormous amount of information and knowledge is exchanged and imparted there every day. The stage is often set by the man, the provider. The hunter returns from travelling and has stories to tell about the hunt, the weather, and the places visited. His narratives are listened to by the other hunters,

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 175 the women, and the youngsters. A woman might return home from the store and tell her husband about an incident told by another hunter. If the storyteller has given important information about hunting or ice conditions, her husband will make sure to meet that hunter for further details. The stories are told again and again, in the evenings and during the days when the hunters remain at home. The stories are exchanged and enjoyed by everyone. Every day, a continuous flow of information and knowledge reaches all members of the community. Specifically in relation to hunting, the return of a hunter with a seal also implies that meat gifts will be given to relatives, friends, namesakes, and so on. Exchange and cooperation in a broad sense are fundamental to the viability of a modern hunting and fishing community like Saqqaq. This holds true even though the rules of hunting and fishing and the technical and economic conditions are rapidly changing. As shown in chapter 2 on whaling, the traditional rules are being eroded by the amplification of the national system, which has endangered the community as an integrated collectivity. Problems like these are further aggravated when political parties take over much public decision making; that topic is dealt with in chapter 8. In the first part of this chapter, I deal with varieties of cooperation and exchange, first of all sharing and gift giving. The second part focuses on division of labour in relation to gender. Sharing and Exchange Meat gifts and sharing are often mentioned as pivotal institutions in traditional Inuit societies. One observer, writing from Upernavik district in Greenland, even goes so far as to say that sharing and mutual aid is a symbolic expression of community (Nuttall 1991; 1992). There has been some confusion about the definition of sharing; unfortunately, the concept of sharing is often merged with the giving of meat gifts. Some clarification of these concepts is needed. Sharing and exchange are often mentioned as epitomizing Inuit societies. To distinguish between hunter-gatherer societies and other types of societies in general, Richard Lee writes that 'the most important contradiction is between the sharing and generalized reciprocity which is central to the hunting and gathering way of life, and the saving, or husbandry of resources, which is equally central to the farming and herding way of life' (Lee 1981: 16). The most precise representation of

176 Saqqaq the kind of evolution taking place in Saqqaq and other Greenlandic communities is to designate it as the evolution from a society based on sharing and exchange to a society based on husbandry of resources (investments, investment goods, means of production). This evolution is also a move away from a relatively egalitarian society simply because sharing, generalized exchange (Sahlins 1965), and egalitarianism are connected factors. The meat from seals is meted out to others, and to be recognized as a piniartorsuaq you give more meat than you receive. It is obvious that this alleged egalitarianism does not imply that everyone in a community like Saqqaq is equal, but it implies that all members (in practice, the men) of the community have equal access to the resources, the means, the technology, and the knowledge necessary to acquire those resources (Woodburn 1982; Flanagan 1989; Kelly 1995: 295ff). It also implies that raising oneself above the others is associated with personal abilities, skills, and qualities. Men and women are not equal in a hunting community, but they rely and depend on each other when the products of the hunt are processed. It might be that status is mainly associated with the men and their hunting skills, and it might be that our eyes focus on their doings, but a man can only rise to become a piniartorsuaq if his wife and his relatives match his qualifications. Some of these characteristics are undergoing change in modern Greenland, but not all of them. Education offers new opportunities for status achievement; technical innovations offer new types of jobs; capital investments can be inherited; and access to resources are increasingly allocated to selected groups of people. While these developments radically alter the physical and social landscape of a settlement like Saqqaq, there are (to use the concepts as formulated by Hobsbawm (1983)) traditional institutions that link the modern community to the past while allowing the customs to develop new patterns. Sharing and exchange are such institutions. The culturally defined sharing between hunters and the exchange of hunting and fishing products remain - not unchanged or immutable, but one of the pillars of the hunting community. No one can be educated in a school to become a hunter. In Saqqaq, the boys are socialized into hunting by their fathers, relatives, and the community. Technically, a person can learn to shoot a seal and to set a seal net. But hunting is, first and foremost, a mode of living, a way of life, which is learned by years of listening outside the shop or down at the pier during social activities, and by observing on the spot. This knowl-

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 177 edge is handed down from older to younger relatives, but it also flows through a public information network shared by all members of the community. There is no monopoly acquired from an educational system or from control of means of production or means of communication. There is much confusion about the use of the concept of sharing. Richard Lee (1981) uses the concept of sharing in a general sense as giving away. Burch (1988a) uses sharing synonymously with generalized reciprocity, but he distinguishes between sharing and the right to have a share, which comes from a non-reciprocal division of large game in northwest Alaska. Given the above definition, it logically follows that a person can have the right to a 'share' that nevertheless was not the result of a 'sharing' procedure. The differing usage of the words 'share' and 'sharing' is related to the problem of translation of concepts from one culture to another. This was most obvious in the late 1950s when the Danish National Museum conducted ethnological questionnaires in Greenland. Some of the translators used the term 'hunting share' (fangstpart in Danish) when they translated the Greenlandic word ningeq, which is the portion of meat or mattak given to a person from ningerneq, which, again, is the traditional process of dividing a large animal. Unfortunately, the term 'hunting share' was also used to indicate what was given, pajuppoq, as meat gift, pajugut.1 It has to be remembered that in the 'old days' a hunting share, ningeq, was sometimes given to the community in addition to those who had taken part in the hunt itself. This only stresses the importance of distinguishing between the 'traditional' sharing of game, ningerpoq, the more recent type of dividing large animals, agguarpoq, and the giving of meat gifts, pajuppoq. The first two mentioned belong to relations of production and the third to the system of exchange; all three exist in Saqqaq today, although the ningeq institution is rapidly disappearing. I prefer to use the term 'sharing' to denote an integrated part of the system of relations of production, and thus distinguish sharing from exchange, in which distribution of meat gifts is the most important component. In this sense, sharing follows from a right that some persons have to specified parts of an animal or to a specified amount of meat and mattak, in contrast to a moral and social obligation to give away meat or to lend things to others. The meat gift is, as mentioned, a 1 When Robert Petersen (pers. comm.) and others made the translations, they realized that those who had done the questioning often made this mistake.

178 Saqqaq voluntary distribution not demanding any payment according to value or need ... It could be discussed how voluntary this distribution is because it is generally expected. But in principle it is voluntary, because the receiver has no claim to it. These pieces of meat are taken from "the hunter's" share and they are gifts in the sense that they are taken from his "private" meat ...' (R. Petersen nd: 86). Usually, snaring follows a cooperative hunt or a hunt that involves more than one hunter. In this respect, Price (1975: 11) has used the term 'task group sharing,' which relates to cooperative hunting (production) in contrast to other types of sharing that take place within the family. Sharing, as the concept is used here, follows certain rules heeded by all members of the community. Sharing of beluga or bearded seal validates and affirms the rules and regulations, whereas the giving away of meat or mattak is an act of generalized reciprocity that confers prestige to the donor and confirms or establishes social relationships. The giving away of seal meat is often discussed, and either the hunter or his wife can suggest that meat be given to a certain person or family. It is a deliberate act, which makes it possible for each individual to operate within the overall framework that exists for bestowing meat gifts. Meat gifts are expected to be given, but if, for example, a hunter has quarrelled with a certain relative, he has the opportunity to make an act of not giving a gift of meat to that particular relative. And people are very often reluctant to give meat gifts, but not because of new and alternative opportunities to sell the seal meat and mattak for cash. These opportunities are utilized mainly when meat and mattak are available in ample quantities. Giving away meat confirms the prestige of the hunter, but it is a process that can be manipulated. Furthermore, it is important to note that giving away meat and mattak is to a large extent controlled by the wife of the hunter, truly giving the women significant impact on the management of social relations. The meat gift is not a direct part of hunting or fishing as such. Giving of meat gifts is a system of exchange and therefore not a part of the relations of production, but of social and cultural relations in a broad sense. A meat gift is given 'voluntarily' by a hunter or his wife from the day's catch or from a recent catch. (Meat gifts are always raw or frozen raw meat.) The non-obligatory aspect is significant and is in contrast to hunting shares. 'But expectations of receiving meat gifts are, nevertheless, so strong that a seal hunter is still not completely free to dispose of his products. This is particularly true with respect to his near relatives,'

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 179 wrote Helge Kleivan from South Greenland in the early 1960s (1964: 70). To a large degree, this still holds true today in a settlement like Saqqaq. A meat gift is a gift of raw meat, intestines, mattak, skin, a bird, or a fish. Giving a meat gift indicates a social relation, but very often it satisfies a need of the receiver - a need known in the community. We do not necessarily speak of a family in permanent need, but most households are sometimes without fresh food. Nowadays, the answer to permanent need is not to be found in the exchange of meat gifts, but is solved by social welfare or old age pension. Giving meat gifts is not an annoyance that people generally try to avoid, but something of which most people are proud. To be able to give meat gifts confers prestige, and since the donor determines to whom the gift shall be given, it can be used to manipulate social relations. When a hunter tries to keep meat for his own household instead of giving to those to whom he is expected to give, it is not necessarily a sign of general reluctance to give, but a reluctance to fulfil exactly those social expectations at that specific time. It is my impression that hunters generally try to maximize the social utility of meat gifts, and that conflicts arise as a reaction against the obligatory aspects of the institution and not against meat giving as such. Meat exchange is a very important economic and social institution in Saqqaq, not only within the settlement, but also to maintain relations with relatives and friends in the city. In general, I would guess that from every catch of a seal at least one gift of meat is normally given. Brothers would exchange meat gifts between their respective households just as they would help each other generally. A person with a fulltime salaried job is expected to help his family with money and expects to receive meat gifts from his brothers. In practice, this gives rise to many conflicts, because some people try to reserve their money income for themselves or for their own household's consumption. During the summer, an elderly couple used to receive meat gifts from the man's nephews, from his son-in-law, from other relatives, and from neighbours. The man fished regularly, but even though he himself was unable to hunt, they usually had fresh meat in the house. As winter came, he was able to set seal nets and, with undisguised pride, he always gave meat gifts: a piece of loin to a neighbour working in the store; a breast to an old man; a liver to the anthropologist; a whole seal to his son-in-law. It is a generalized system of exchange, and meat gifts are not only given to those from whom one has received them earlier.

180 Saqqaq In late autumn, a hunter and his son came home with a bearded seal (which is often comparable in size to a beluga). I think it was the first bearded seal taken in the community that autumn, and, consequently, many households in the settlement received meat from this bearded seal. Thus, when a large animal like a bearded seal is taken, all households, or at least most households, would receive a piece of meat. Later that autumn, when two other hunters returned with a bearded seal, a large number of meat gifts were distributed. In the spring, following the first major beluga hunt, those few households that were not represented in the battue were given meat gifts. From this first hunt, everybody should have a taste. Meat is given deliberately to strengthen social relations. Those people with full-time salaried positions like the teachers, the shop assistants, and the store manager are given meat gifts. Friends and political party mates have meat gift relationships. All in all, the large number of partnerships open to meat gifts makes it possible to manipulate social relations, even though custom might indicate to whom meat gifts should be given. A hunter or his wife might go in person with a meat gift to someone, they might send a child, or might send a child with a message asking a person to come and receive some meat. One does not ask for a meat gift. As a matter of fact one does not ask for anything, but, if necessary, one indicates a need. For instance, one afternoon during coffee at one of the hunters' homes, a neighbour came visiting. The conversation was about everything and nothing, when the wife mentioned how 'hungry' they were, since neither the ittoq, her husband, nor their son had taken seal for some time. After some talk about weather and seal hunting, the neighbour, who never went hunting himself, mentioned that he had some mattak in his freezer and promised to send them a piece. Meat is exchanged on a more equal basis than any other item. Following Sahlins' (1965) terminology, exchange of meat usually follows a pattern of generalized reciprocity, while other items and commodities change hands under more balanced conditions. Meat is a subsistence product. Only the surplus is sold for money in Ilulissat, and in some years also traded to the fish-processing plant in Saqqaq. Only rarely does this involve a problem of priority: should the meat be sold or used for home consumption or given as a meat gift? The conflict is, however, significant, and buying and selling of meat among the villagers is generally disliked. A person might expect or hope to be offered a meat gift, but if instead he is offered meat to buy, a social relationship is

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 181 fundamentally changed. Naturally, this conflict is most evident in cases involving close kin and affinal relationships. The resentment that the Saqqarmiut feel about meat being sold within the community is underlined by the gossip that frequently accompanies such cases. As part of the overall exchange system, borrowing is very much practised. When a person lends his boat, outboard motor, rifle, dogs, etc., he is entitled to a hunting share. For example, it is said by some that a person who borrows a whole dog team should give the owner half of the catch as a hunting share. Everything from tools and washing machines to dogs are borrowed or given away - the distinction is blurred. Thus, a hunter gave a puppy to another man, who, a year later, offered all his dogs to be used by a third person for the time being. One day, however, the original owner of the puppy took back the dog, explaining that the hunter who had borrowed the dog mistreated it. All over Greenland, Danes have an endless number of stories about people not 'paying back' or not 'giving back' loans - borrowing all kinds of machines and technical equipment, which are returned to the owner when broken down and without any offer of compensation. This is not a theme that I deal with, but it underlines the significance of generalized exchange as part of daily life in Greenland in general and in a community like Saqqaq specifically. It also emphasizes that social relations of exchange are based on 'being able to use/having a need' rather than on an 'own/borrow' model. Types of Sharing The various types of sharing known in Saqqaq have been described in chapter 2 on beluga hunting. The 'traditional' ningeq type differentiated among the various roles during the hunt, each share depending on the role. This type of sharing is not significant in beluga hunting in today's Saqqaq. In this more 'traditional' type of sharing, an animal belongs to the hunter, and the others are his helpers. "The hunter," pissaqqartoq, is the nominal owner of the animal and he is always credited with the catch. In old days, the hunter was the person who first harpooned the animal - whoever killed it' (R. Petersen nd: 87). The pissaqqartoq had a right to 'the hunter's share'; although not necessarily the largest piece, it was a specified part of the animal. The 'helpers' had rights to other - specified - parts of the animal. Old people in Saqqaq have mentioned that in some cases even the community had the right to a share in a beluga catch. This is supported

182 Saqqaq by information from other regions (from East Greenland, see Robbe 1975), like this from Holsteinsborg (Sisimiut) district: 'It is furthermore, and foremost in small communities, the custom to distribute some meat and blubber to all houses; in the case of generally good hunting conditions only meat is distributed' (Bendixen 1921a: 55). The ningecj type of sharing is known in most Inuit regions. In Northwest Alaska, Ernest Burch writes, 'The second type of division was inherently unequal, and was known as ningeq. In the study region this procedure was employed in two different contexts. The first was if a bowhead or gray whale was taken - in which case there was a whole set of rules governing the disposition of the carcass into a series of graded shares ... The second context was when someone just followed some hunters without actively participating in the hunt, or if someone did not even accompany the hunters but assisted in unloading the sled ...' (1988a: 102). The latter type of right to a share is well known in Saqqaq; it was also mentioned in chapter 2 on beluga hunting during a sassat (Golodnoff 1956: 278). Still today it happens that a person descends to the beach to help retrieve a seal or a beluga taken in net on shore, and receives a small share of the meat or mattak. When referring to Iglulimiut (Canada) sharing practices, Damas writes, 'Ningeq or division of the larger animals was present, but, whereas among the Netsilik the division took place only among the hunters who had cooperated in securing the game, for the Iglulik the entire settlement was involved in sharing bearded seal, narwhal, beluga, polar bear, and especially the walrus' (1972: 231). This statement seems to be in accordance with the old practice in Saqqaq when the community as such received a share of a beluga catch. However, at least as concerns our Greenlandic example, the sharing was only partly generalized; it was not the whole catch that was shared community wide, but only a hunting share, that is, a designated part of the animal(s). Whereas this type of generalized sharing belongs to history in Saqqaq (but might still be practised in settlements to the north and in East Greenland), the ningeq type of sharing among Baffin Island Inuit in Canada has fairly recently been described as a generalized sharing of the whole catch and as still being practised (Wenzel 1981: 92f; 1995). Introduction of small motor boats in Greenland and boats with outboard motors changed the pattern of cooperation, because more than one hunter now manned the boat. Hunters in Saqqaq prefer not to travel alone in a boat. Preferably a hunter goes with a son, a brother's son, a brother, or a friend. When a boat or a motor is broken down the hunter tries to make an alliance with another hunter instead of going

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 183 with his son, for example. This type of cooperation is much practised and necessary, because every household is regularly without an engine or a boat. The family may not have money to buy a new outboard motor when the old one breaks down, and it might take several weeks or months to get a new one. In this case, alliances with people outside the household are essential, and the plight of a hunter without sons or lasting alliances can be harsh - today he must rely temporarily on social welfare benefits. In the case when a hunter takes a friend with him in his own boat, a relationship between the owner and the non-owner is established. The information available does not indicate a permanent unequal owner/ non-owner relationship as far as boats with outboard motors are concerned, but, of course, this develops with investments in larger boats and fishing vessels. The old ningeq sharing system is now being changed and quantified. When one seal is caught, the skin belongs to the owner of the boat and the meat is shared equally between him and his helper. If two seals are caught, both skins and half of the meat from each seal belong to the boat's owner. If the same two people return with a third seal a few days later, the skin belongs to the helper and the meat is shared equally. Sharing is, thus, not only a matter of dividing the catch, but an establishment of a more or less lasting relationship. Although there are differences, some people express this type of sharing relationship in the same terms used on board fishing vessels: one share to each hunter and one share to the boat. In some cases the seal meat is shared so that the owner of the boat receives two-thirds of the catch while the helper receives one-third. This is sometimes said to be 'the usual' way of sharing the catch. Sharing of beluga among boat mates seems to be different, or at least less rigorous and less predictable, simply because it is a more complex matter involving more people. What I have observed is that mattak as well as meat is shared equally between the owner of the boat and his 'helper,' if they are not close relatives. But it seems to be rather complicated, leaving room for much bargaining, manipulation, and inventiveness, as was illustrated by a case already mentioned, in which a hunter borrowed an outboard motor from a neighbour and took off beluga hunting with his own brother. From the collective hunt he got shares of meat and mattak, but half of each of these shares belonged to the motor's owner, who showed up during the collective sharing procedure and went off with his part of the share. These examples show that sharing is not always done as a 1:1:1

184 Saqqaq relationship among the hunter, his boat/motor, and his helper. Thus, during one late autumn, a hunter went hunting for several weeks with his friend and neighbour, and they shared equally, including bearded seals. The boat owner explained it as a result of their friendship, since his friend's engine was broken down and maybe sometime in future the relationship would be reversed. It should also be mentioned that personal considerations play a role, so that skin and meat are shared according to need and desire. As described, beluga hunting is accompanied by two stages of sharing. First, the collective sharing divides the catch among the boats on an equal basis, and second, in some cases (when two people in a boat are not closely related), this is followed by sharing among the boats' crews. It is essential to keep these two procedures separate, although both processes belong to the process of production and not to the distribution or exchange of meat and mattak as meat gifts, which always follows as a third stage. Not all boat crews share the catch according to these loosely stipulated rules. Within households and between closely related people no regular sharing takes place. In these cases, people say that sharing is done according to need and solidarity among close relatives. Obviously, this does not preclude conflicts, and young men, when leaving family and community, sometimes complain that their fathers did not give them a proper share (money) from the catch. In the 1960s, Robert Petersen observed a similar situation in Upernavik district (nd: 85ff). To avoid giving hunting shares, some hunters preferred to have relatives in their boats. Close relatives were usually not given hunting shares and old sharing rules would run against the demand to pay instalments on the boat. According to this account it seems that when motorboats were introduced, interest and repayment were met by a strategy of at first not changing the rules of sharing, but instead recruiting helpers from among relatives. When commercial and industrial fishing grew along West Greenland, this strategy just mentioned was inevitably challenged by the alternatives available to helpers; they could choose to leave the settlement for a better-paid future as fishermen in town. What can be observed is a trend to change the sharing custom so that each member of the crew will have a defined share. The alternative is to recruit the helpers from within the household or the nearest family (brothers, for example), where a kind of generalized reciprocity prevails. Thus, from the old ningeq sharing institution two different systems have grown. One is a modernized ningeq system, adapted to cope with

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 185 management of small capital investments in boats and outboard engines. This system is, to a large extent, similar to North Atlantic fishing by contract sharing (boat, boat owner, and each crew member having an agreed-upon percentage of the value of the catch). The other is community-wide sharing during collective hunting, described in chapter 2 on beluga hunting and characterized by the meticulous equality of sharing among boats of unequal size and role. This change was also known in caribou hunting; equal sharing was mentioned in the late 1950s (NEUG: Nathan Petersen). The ningeq sharing and the giving of meat gifts both function as levelling mechanisms within the community. Misfortune in hunting can be ameliorated through both institutions. Another aspect of these cultural traditions is that they regulate hunting activities and protect an area from being over-exploited (R. Petersen 1965: 119). The practice of generalized reciprocity postpones the day when the longing for seal meat cannot be satisfied, because even if a family's store or freezer is empty, it can rely on meat gifts from others; often the household will regularly receive meat, not because they are in acute need, but because a cultural practice is being followed. To conclude this section, I stress the difference between sharing, in the sense in which that term has been used here, and exchange. In those cases where means of production are borrowed and the hunter returns with a catch, part of it has to be paid back to the owner as a share. If no profit results from such a loan nothing is paid to the owner. There is a transitional trend towards more and more items and products being sold commercially, a process in which people have to cope with market demands where the products are sold, and social demands where the products are produced and social relations reproduced. This has repercussions on the rules of sharing and exchange and sometimes gives rise to conflicts. Division of Labour Explorers, anthropologists, and colonizers have given accounts recording that Inuit societies are conspicuous for the marked division of labour between men and women. In general, it is a well-known fact that in band societies men do the hunting and women do most of the gathering. These processes are separate and, in an instrumental sense, one does not depend on the other. In this respect, the labour processes in Inuit societies are different. In Inuit communities where hunting is a prime economic undertak-

186 Saqqaq ing, the main division of labour between men and women does not relate to two different labour processes, but to a complementary division of labour within the same process of production. Typically, men do the hunting and women prepare and process the hunting products. The man is the provider; the woman is the processor, reproducer, and caretaker. When men turn away from hunting to take jobs in fishing industries or other types of salaried employment, or to take up full-time fishing, this is in many respects a blow to the traditional position held by women. They are left unemployed because their traditional activities were inextricably rooted in the men's hunting activities. Contrary to widespread practice in many agricultural societies, where men monopolize the salaried jobs and women are left to take care of all subsistence activities, the distinction in Greenland between wage labour and subsistence activities is not identical with the gender division of labour. Most of the primary subsistence activities in Greenland are performed by men. Consequently, a woman cannot take over if her husband turns to some kind of wage-earning activity. In those cases in Saqqaq where the gender division of labour corresponds to distinct economic activities, most often within the household, it is the woman who has the paid employment and not the man. Strictly speaking the processual division of labour between men and women exists today only in a rudimentary or less significant form. Women now have salaried jobs, and processing of hunting products locally continues to decrease. Until recently, sealskins were the exception, but this is also gradually changing, although more sealskins are still scraped and processed in Saqqaq than in other Greenlandic communities. In winter when the hunter returns from hunting with a ringed seal, he takes it home to let it thaw on the floor inside the house. Most often his wife flenses and butchers the seal. In the very characteristic Greenlandic way, she works with stretched legs and stiff knees, bending over the carcass. In this position, which is very strange to a European, she works steadily and skilfully. When she has flensed the seal, she cuts up the skin along the belly using a woman's knife, ulo, being careful not to prick a hole in the carcass as she cuts the skin and blubber free. After a while the entire skin with a thick layer of blubber is cut off, and the carcass, resting on the skin, is butchered in such a way that no blood is spilled on the floor. With her hands she regularly scoops blood into a pot to be boiled with the meat. If too much blubber is left with the

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 187 skin she removes it, leaving one to two centimetres or at least enough that she can be sure not to cut into the skin. But the roles are no longer as fixed as they used to be. When hunting was the only or the dominating activity, the seal was taken to the house by the hunter's wife and she did the flensing. Today, the hunter can often be seen taking it to the house himself and he might also do the flensing, alone or with his wife. While flensing and butchering of seals is now sometimes done by the man, preparation of the skin is the woman's job par excellence. Scraping the skin is done on the floor or using a plywood board placed on the floor and elevated at one end so that she scraps downwards away from herself with the ulo. All blubber has to be removed from the skin, but the skin must not be damaged, a process that requires great skill. Accordingly, when talking about a skilled hunter's wife, people very often mention a woman who is skilful in scraping and preparing skins. Scraping a skin takes from half an hour to more than one hour depending on the size of the skin and on the carefulness and ability of the woman. After being scraped the skin is dipped in water, usually down at the sea, and then washed in a fluid bought at the store. Eventually, it can be washed in a machine in the community building. The holes where the flippers were are sewn together and the skin is left to dry on a clothesline or clothes rack. Later it is stretched on a wooden frame. This process must sometimes be repeated two or even three times in order to produce a clean skin. The length of this process depends on a variety of factors. If there is an urgent need for cash in the household the skin is traded a few days after the seal was taken. I estimate an average of eight to twelve days elapse from the time a seal is caught until the skin is taken down from the frame. If there is no urgent need for money, it might hang a few days more before it is taken down from the wooden rack to be stored until sold. The skin is sold by either the man or his wife, but whoever sells it, it is registered as sold by the man or one of their sons. This is interesting because it indicates that the skin is considered the property of the man and as his - taxable - income, even though the money from selling the skin might be disposed of by the woman. Maybe it is just taken for granted that the skin is registered under the man's (the hunter's) identification number. It has always been that way, and it could be that nobody has ever thought about it. I would, however, really like to see the face of a confused clerk in The Trade if a

188 Saqqaq woman demanded a skin be put on her identification number! Why? Because sealing is, first of all, a cultural and symbolic complex and only secondly a group of activities and technical skills that are being remunerated. Sealing, as it still takes place in Saqqaq today, is part of a mode of production and a way of living, of which an integral part includes the hunter as the provider for the family. If this interpretation is correct, it is natural that any kind of registration of the skin must be done in the name of the provider, the symbolic owner of the catch. And when the skin is sold this cultural and symbolic gender role is confirmed. It is not disturbed by the fact that the woman disposes of the income from the sale. The registration of the skin under the man's name is thus a cultural and social affirmative action that gives it a symbolic significance. All yearly income below a stipulated level is tax free in Greenland, and if a hunter has earned more than this limit, the family might register the skins under the name of a teenaged boy, but never under a teenaged daughter. Preparing and processing a skin is a strenuous job, and a good price presupposes that the skin is clean with no holes. The price obtained depends on the species (ringed, harp, or hooded seal), size, and quality. Today, the scraping and cleaning of sealskins is often disliked by young women and teenaged girls and goes counter to their ambitions (which does not prevent them from talking with admiration about those women who are skilled at preparing skins). A girl's wish to obtain an education is often supported or even championed by her mother. Since a woman's ambitions on behalf of her daughter are incompatible with the position of hunter's wife, there is little to encourage teenaged girls or young women to acquire the skills necessary to prepare skins. The result is that more and more skins are left unprocessed. This has motivated Home Rule authorities to initiate an experiment to buy unprepared skins, which are salted locally and processed at the fur factory in Qaqortoq, South Greenland. While in the early 1980s very few of the young women had learned to prepare and process sealskins, this seemed to have changed when I visited Saqqaq ten years later. In 1996 some of the young women had acquired the necessary skills. It is interesting that those said to be the most proficient were daughters of the few non-hunters' households in the community. Making skin garments and sewing skin coverings for the kayak and the women's boat, the umiaq, were originally some of the most timeconsuming jobs of the women. Today, that tradition is gone or nearly

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 189 gone, except for some hunting garments and festival clothes, specifically the woman's dress, kalaallisuut. Shoes and clothes are now bought at the store, by postal order, or at fashion shops in Ilulissat. During the winter 1980-1, most people in Saqqaq used sealskin trousers and sealskin boots when travelling, hunting, and fishing. All skin garments are made locally from scraped, untanned skins. However, I cannot imagine hunters wearing fur garments in a future when all or most skins are sold unprepared. People cannot afford to buy industrially processed skins, which are also not suitable for hunting purposes. If the skill to prepare sealskins dies out completely in Saqqaq, fur hunting garments will also disappear. If the hunter returns empty-handed from a seal hunting trip, there is no skin for his wife to prepare. In many respects they are bound together. The prestige of the hunter is imparted to his wife - and vice versa. The hunter depends on a skilled wife, but she is 'nothing' if the man does not provide her with animals. The hunter furnishes his wife with skins, but it would be too restrictive to interpret the work done by the wife as a service rendered to him. Within the seal-hunting complex, she has her own specific role, which she can manipulate in a variety of ways. She can be more careful with the scraping if she knows that she herself can dispose of the income from selling the skin. Likewise she can favour or discriminate against an adult son or her husband by putting very little effort into scraping and preparing his skin. Thus, in relation to the gender division of labour, men are sometimes in the position that they have to strive to be worthy of the services rendered by the women (wives, brother's wives, mothers) as much as the other way around. Whatever job the man or woman has in Saqqaq, the woman does the housework - cleaning, cooking, baking, etc. There is nothing shameful about a man doing these household chores, and likewise nobody resents a woman who goes hunting. But when it occurs it is an exception that can be explained by peculiar circumstances within the household. This was the case in the household of a widowed man who lived with his adult daughter and two teenaged sons. The daughter had lost the thumb on her right hand and was unable to scrape skins from seals brought home by the father. He, therefore, did this woman's job himself. This household was also exceptional in other ways, since she sometimes went hunting with her father, which she enjoyed very much. She was the only woman in the settlement to hunt. The division of labour between men and women is also reflected in

190 Saqqaq the socialization process. As part of socialization, many household chores are done by children. Most water and ice is fetched by children ten to fourteen years old. Errands of all kinds are attended to by children. In early summer, children help in the capelin fishery, and as years pass, more and more duties are assigned to teenaged boys and girls. An elder sister takes care of a younger sister or brother; children are often charged with serving an old grandfather or grandmother. In early spring when some snow is still left, the children take the sledges with a few dogs to fetch heather, later to be dried and used to make fire in the stove. In the old days heather was also used as insulation material in houses, but this is no longer used. In the daylight hours, one can always see someone fetching water or ice. This is a laborious task, done twice a day, mainly by children, but also by men and women. Before 1983, water was fetched from a small lake behind Saqqaq. At the end of February, the water turned brown and was full of small animals. From then on, water had to be fetched from a lake farther away. People used plastic cans or buckets. When snow covered the ground, sledges were used, and the boys often hitched up a dog or two in front of the sledge. Water is usually fetched two or more times a day. Water from these lakes is generally disliked as drinking water compared to the high-quality water obtained from melting inland ice from small icebergs. These are always accessible along the shore in summer and from frozen icebergs in winter. In late winter of 1981, ice was gathered as a municipal work activity and placed in large piles that were available to everyone free of charge. Publicly employed people, like teachers and the store manager, got water and ice delivered as part of their job. During the short summer, pipelines took water from the lakes, and from May to freeze-up in October, water could be obtained from a few taps. Then, in 1983, a regular all-year pipeline system was established; now water can be fetched from three or four taps even during the winter. Only the school, the fish-processing plant, and the community building have water systems installed. Hunters and Wage Workers Hunting and fishing are open to everyone; in Saqqaq all adult men go hunting and fishing regularly or periodically. As a matter of fact, this is part of the settlement way of living. With the only exception of a few old and retired people living alone, all households own a boat with an outboard motor, and most households have a dog team. For years, one

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 191 of the largest dog teams was owned by The Trade manager, who was a skilled hunter and always on the spot at the arrival of beluga. For a man who dislikes hunting, fishing, and travelling, settlement life must often be boring. Usually, it is only midwives' husbands who move to or stay in a settlement without having any position and without having been socialized as a hunter and fisherman. Everyone is allowed to hunt and fish as long as they are permanent residents in Greenland. There is also an expectation that men do go hunting. There is no ethnic criterion; there is no sexual criterion. These are general rules in Greenland, and they are fundamental to settlement life as a way of living. Thus, the Danish teacher and the Greenlandic trade manager can hunt seals, go fishing for capelin or cod, and shoot ptarmigan. As monitoring and management of more and more species are taken over by national and international institutions, a trend is developing that harvesting of some species (caribou, larger whales, etc.) is restricted and can be pursued only by full-time hunters and fishermen (those who gain their main income from hunting and fishing); other species can be commercially traded only by people possessing a licence. Until recently, these rules affected Saqqaq only slightly, but in the 1980s, permits to hunt minke whales were allocated only to full-time hunters and fishermen, and drawing of caribou lots was also restricted to this group. In Saqqaq, there are twelve to eighteen full-time, permanent salaried positions (teachers, catechist, trade manager, office clerk, store clerks, store workers, midwife, manager of the fish processing plant), a number of part-time positions (supervisor of the electricity plant, church supervisor, policeman, fireman, municipal agent, domestic helpers, charwoman), and many irregular jobs. Since the mid-1980s, most of the latter have been in the fish-processing plant. In the early 1980s, two to five full-time salaried positions were occupied by women and so were the same number of part-time positions. At that time, full-time positions were occupied by people from households that did not rely on hunting and fishing. None of the men in full-time salaried positions would ever be expected to turn or return to hunting and fishing as his main occupation. However, the expectations are different for people holding part-time or irregular jobs. They engage in wage work, not as an occupation but as an adaptation consistent with a niche-oriented strategy. This state of affairs in relation to jobs changed radically in the 1990s,

192 Saqqaq and a significant transformation of Saqqaq is now in progress. First and foremost there are the young women who return to Saqqaq after finishing school and/or vocational training in Ilulissat or other towns along the coast. They return because full-time permanent or semi-permanent jobs are available. In 1980, The Trade manager was a man and so was the store manager. In 1996, both were women; The Trade manager was from another community, the store manager a younger local woman. In 1980, all four employees in the office, the store, and the warehouse were men; three of them are now young women, all originally from Saqqaq. In 1980, the community clerk was a woman from Saqqaq; she has now been replaced by another younger woman who has returned to Saqqaq, while a young man from Saqqaq serves as janitor in the community building. A woman from Saqqaq, still finishing her education outside, is expected to be next in charge in the fish-processing plant when she returns in late 1996. A kindergarten has been established in the community building, giving jobs to several young women. While in the early 1980s, only a few permanent jobs were occupied by women, today three out of four are held by women. It is remarkable that several of the young women holding permanent full-time salaried jobs are married to hunters either from Saqqaq or from elsewhere. This is a big change from only five to ten years ago when a hunter's household never had economic input from major, constant, and reliable salaries. The ramifications of this change might significantly alter the resource-harvesting strategies of the hunters towards increased investments in small fishing vessels, for example, but so far mainly a certain increase in the purchase of consumer goods is noticeable. Full-time employed people do not act or behave as a social group, nor are they an important social category compared to other social categories. From a settlement in South Greenland, Per Langgaard writes that 'the most important social categories are created by the polarization between drinkers and nondrinkers' (Langgaard 1986: 307). This distinction is a limited factor in Saqqaq, but, as is discussed later in chapter 8, political parties and other voluntary associations have been influential in creating social divisions. There is no clear demarcation between people whose main income is from hunting and fishing and those who rely mainly on wage work. But a distinction is made when hunting certificates are issued. Parttime hunters and fishermen are primarily people with low-paid jobs and with only seasonal or part-time employment. They rely basically

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 193 on hunting and fishing. The establishment of a fish-processing plant in Saqqaq increased the significance of wage work considerably, and, strictly speaking, a larger number of people should be considered parttime hunters and fishermen. However, for many years the issuing of certificates was not always very strict and if a man was considered a full-time hunter, the municipal authorities would be likely to give him a full-time certificate. This was justified because even if he fished and hunted ten months of the year and held salaried employment for only two, he could easily have a larger monetary income from wage work than from selling fish and sealskins. Furthermore, much of his cash income from fish and mammals sold unofficially would not be reported to the tax authorities. When new rules were introduced in the early 1990s,2 it was stipulated that to be a full-time hunter, that is, to have the right to obtain a 'professional hunting licence/ the person must have relied on hunting and fishing for at least 125 days of the previous year and not have had permanent employment for more than 125 days that year. As a condition for acquiring a new licence, hunters are now obliged to keep a hunting diary, which is sent to the authorities once a year. Over the years, more and more people will become part-time hunters and fishermen, and to this group of people, hunting is in the main a non-commercial venture. Although only subsidiary activities, hunting and fishing nevertheless assume an important role in the reproduction of labour, because of low salaries and periodically recurring seasons that offer no employment. It is important to realize that, although parttime hunters and fishermen very often are those most in need of both non-cash and cash income from hunting and fishing activities, they are increasingly being excluded from certain harvesting activities. A very clear trend in today's Greenland is that hunting and fishing are reserved for specific groups of people, not with the purpose of protecting or favouring subsistence activities, but to comply with demands made by full-time hunters and fishermen, particularly the owners of larger fishing vessels. This is despite the common assertion that subsistence is a traditional Inuit activity. Thus, in 1985, the then leader of the Greenlandic government, Jonathan Motzfeldt, declared that 'a commercial exploitation of the caribou population is not only morally reprehensible, but also a non-Greenlandic or non-Eskimo tradition' (A/G 1985: 24). In 1995 a distinct outcry rose when Home Rule authorities 2 In Gr0nlands Hjemmestyre 1993b.

194 Saqqaq charged full-time hunters 100 DKR (part-time hunters: 500 DKR) to shoot a caribou. As wage labour becomes more important in Greenland, the focus of economic relations will change towards the market. Nevertheless, the fact that the household has remained a major economic unit in a settlement like Saqqaq should not be disregarded. In chapter 7, the focus is on how the viability of the hunting mode of production in its present form depends on the household as a unit of production and not just as a unit of consumption. As described in the other chapters, women have lost much of their position within the traditional process of production as this relates to hunting activities based mainly on seals (see also Odgaard and Dahl 1983). However, women's work is a prominent niche in the economic strategies pursued by the household. Seen in terms of cash only, seal hunting is a non-viable activity and the hunter needs additional income from other activities. This does not mean that the hunter alone must supplement his income. On the contrary, his activity is viable if cash flows into the household from other sources - when his wife has wage work or his mother's pension is pooled into the household economy. Even during the years when the men had a de facto monopoly on the best salaried jobs, women's part of wage income was very significant, as can be read from table 6.1. From all fourteen hunters' households (table 6.1), women's wage income is slightly higher than men's. The table shows further that income from teenaged or adult children is even more important than the father's or the mother's salaried income. Comparable figures from more recent years are not available, but there is no doubt that women's salaried income-generating activities have increased more than have men's. The significant economic role of teenaged and adult children for this group of households is clearly shown in table 6.1. Looking at individual households, the significance becomes even clearer when we consider the stages of the developmental cycle. At one stage in the developmental cycle, the income from teenaged and adult children is very important to the household. For most people, wage work is a niche to be exploited - not a job to be performed. This also influences people's strategy and attitude towards working habits. Nobody stands aloof from taking wage work. The young men might prefer to work for some years in the fish-processing plant in Saqqaq, just as others periodically leave for Ilulissat to work on

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 195 TABLE 6.1 Salaries in fourteen hunters' households1 in Saqqaq 1980-1 (in percentages and in DKR)

1980 1981 Total

Husband

Wife

26% (91,552) 31% (116,114) 29% (207,666)

35% (121,952) 32% (120,179) 33% (242,131)

Sons and daughters2

Total3

38% (133,597) 38% (142,728) 38% (276,325)

99% (347,101) 101% (379,021) 100% (725,919)

1 Hunters' households are defined as those in which neither the man nor the woman has a permanent full-time salaried job, but their incomes are from hunting and fishing. 2 The table includes children's salaries from share fishing. 3 The table does not include social benefits and pensions.

trawlers or to take up other fish-related jobs. After some years, some of them will return to living as hunters. The skilled hunter prefers to go hunting, but if weather is harsh or hunting prospects are bad, he might prefer any kind of wage work. After the ammassat season in 1981, many people, men as well as women, were employed to grade and pack the dried fish. Most families tried to have at least one member working in one of the storehouses. Several of the hunters worked there, but they tended to work more irregularly than others. They were likely not to show up on days with good sealing prospects but would return the following morning. Wage work is to them a niche to be exploited when circumstances are favourable for exactly that activity. Working in the fish-processing plant, gathering and piling ice for drinking water, stone work for repairing the paths between houses - seen from a hunter's point of view, these are niches much more than specific jobs to be done. This is reflected in working attitudes, which are very different from what is expected in competitive jobs. In 1981, those who packed ammassat used most of the time, or an extremely large part of it, for chatting and gossiping. It was a social event, as is the collective sharing of beluga meat and mattak. Even though there was a foreman there, the work was far from being seen as an industrial activity. Working relations were also social relations, and the economy of The Trade, which bought and packed the ammassat, was not transparent. When workers were em-

196 Saqqaq ployed, it was expected that social factors and kinship relations would be taken into consideration. As I mentioned in another context, a few years after the establishment of the fish-processing plant it became clear that in a market-oriented economic unit this attitude had to be changed. Working in the fish-processing plant is still a niche to be pursued by individuals or households, but for the first time in the history of Saqqaq, industrial working habits have been introduced. Composition of the Household It is obvious that households composed of more than two adults are in an advantageous position in relation to supplying extra cash income; it can be pension from a parent or irregular cash income from a daughter or son. Many indications point to a correlation between composition of a household with regard to sex and age and its viability as a huntingand fishing-based household. The most prominent of these factors is the economic advantage of having two adult men within the household. Hunters prefer not to go to sea alone. They prefer to be two in a boat and, if possible, go hunting and fishing with a son or a brother. Those households that are able to utilize a large variety of niches and that also have their main income from hunting and fishing are typically those composed of two adult hunters (a man and his son) and at least one adult woman. This fact is realized by people themselves in various ways. It is thus a special sorrow for a family when the last teenaged boy leaves the home to take up an occupation in the town or in another settlement. That moment obviously is envisaged with sadness by the father, who will miss not only his son but also his hunting companion. Seen in the perspective of the developmental cycle of the domestic group, the household is most viable during those years when at least one adult son stays at home. When the last son leaves the settlement, that is the moment for the hunter to retire or to consider moving the family into the town. That adult sons are more important to the viability of the hunting household than are adult daughters is also reflected in the dissimilar socialization of daughters and sons in relation to modern society and to learning the traditional activities. Whereas a family will endeavour to keep one son at home after he has finished settlement school, there are not the same incentives to keep girls at home, and they are often

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 197 TABLE 6.2 Population of Saqqaq, males and females

1970 1976 1981 1986 1991 1995

Men

Women

Total

104 89 80 72 79 110

107 70 51 52 46 78

211 159 131 124 125 188

Source: The 1981 figures are my own. The rest are from official statistics.

encouraged to continue school in Ilulissat. Among parents, grandparents, and even among the girls themselves, there is general agreement that settlement life in general has no future for teenaged girls and young women. But if all young women have emigrated, what future is there for the young men in the settlement? In 1981, the families in Saqqaq had, altogether, thirty-nine daughters above fifteen years of age. Of these thirty-nine girls and women, fourteen were attending educational establishments outside Saqqaq and only seven stayed in Saqqaq or another settlement. The same families had thirty sons above fifteen years of age; of these only two were attending educational establishments outside Saqqaq, but fourteen stayed in settlements (thirteen in Saqqaq). For decades girls have been the first to leave Saqqaq and other settlements. This trend appears in all Greenlandic settlements when commercial fishing takes over from hunting as the main economic pursuit. And the process is self-reinforcing. When women are made superfluous in the hunting mode of production, if they are not socialized into the local setting, they emigrate and obtain an education of no use in a stagnating settlement. This process is unequivocally confirmed by the statistics to be seen in tables 6.2 and 6.3. Table 6.2 shows the deficit of women in Saqqaq from the mid-1970s, but it also strongly indicates a change since 1991, which I primarily attribute to the introduction of new job opportunities following the establishment of the fish-processing plant. Fewer young people leave Saqqaq now, and the young women return, sometimes with husbands or boyfriends from another community. It is also possible to notice a significant change of mood among young people and among their parents. They have come to believe that there is a future for young

198 Saqqaq TABLE 6.3 Greenland, 1981. Settlement population of people born in Greenland

Age

Men

Women

Total

0-14 15-29 30^4 45-59

1,741 (51%) 1,593 (54%) 864 (56%) 607 (52%) 348 (49%)

1,653 (49%) 1,371 (46%) 685 (44%) 565 (48%) 365(51%)

3,394(100%) 2,964(100%) 1,549(100%) 1,172 (100%) 713(100%)

60-

Source: Ministeriet for Gronland: Granlands befolkning 1. January 1981.

TABLE 6.4 Greenland, 1986. Settlement population of people born in Greenland

Age

Men

Women

Total

0-14

1,576 (50%)

30-44 45-59

1,155(54%) 1,267 (56%) 682 (57%) 379 (48%)

1,555 (50%) 987 (46%) 978 (44%) 514 (43%) 410(52%)

3,131 (100%) 2,142(100%) 2,245(100%) 1,196(100%) 789(100%)

15-29

60-

Source: Granlands Statistik: Granlands befolkning 1. January 1995.

people in Saqqaq. This holds true for men as well as for women, and a new optimism has been felt in recent years. Comparing table 6.2 with table 6.3 we have statistically significant proof of this long-lasting crisis of settlement demography: young women emigrate from settlements and leave a deficit of women. By 1981, this had taken place over so many years that the deficit encompassed the population more than fourteen years old. It is therefore worthwhile to compare this with the most recent situation (table 6.4). We still see the surplus of young and adult men in the settlements, but it is too early to guess about the future demographic trend in Saqqaq compared to other settlements. In a snapshot perspective, the number of households of young couples has increased tremendously if we compare 1981 with the situation fifteen years later. An informed estimate is that between 1980 and 1988, three or four young couples established new households in Saqqaq. This should be compared to the period between 1988 and 1996 when twelve to fourteen young couples established their own households (with at least one of the couples being a Saqqarmioq). There are other reasons than the purely economic for young people

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 199 to leave the settlement. One is the strong dominance of the ittoq, the head of the household, usually the father. The role of being a hunter includes the position as head of the household. In many aspects of life, the ittoq simply tells other members of the household what to do and not to do and how to dispose of household assets and income. Most girls and young unmarried women who have been in boarding school in Ilulissat, and who may even have had some vocational training, have also acquired values very different from those attributed to the hunting way of life. Only reluctantly will such young women stay in the house of a dominant hunter, and when they are home during the summer holiday, conflicts easily arise. Among young women there is an increasing awareness of and opposition to this dominance traditionally associated with the hunter role. They are particularly opposed to beating, which is common in many families even among young people. Quite a few young men resent being ordered around by their father and told not to smoke or not to drink. Quite often they are not allowed to dispose of money in the way they see others of their own age doing when living in town. On the other hand, it should be recalled that boys are socialized far more into the role of hunter than girls are into the corresponding woman's position (the hunter's wife), and thus, the incentive to adapt to parents' role expectations is far more outspoken among boys than girls. Returning now to the developmental cycle of the domestic group, we see a striking preponderance of patrilocal residence. Of twenty-six verified marriages in 1981, twelve were virilocal (the wife coming from a community other than Saqqaq), nine were endogamous, only two were uxorilocal, and three couples had moved to Saqqaq from outside (all three couples living on full-time salaried positions). There was not one single case of a hunting family in which the hunter did not come from Saqqaq. Fifteen years later, an outsider without close relatives in Saqqaq still only moved there to take a full-time salaried position as The Trade manager or a teacher. But some of the young women have married men who have moved from other communities to Saqqaq, where they live as hunters and fishermen. All these women have permanent full-time salaried jobs. This change in residence pattern is evidence of two significant changes. The first is the incipient but, I would guess, permanent break-up of the 'original' division of labour between the hunter and his wife, which made both of them mutually dependent on the

200 Saqqaq labour of the other. A hunter's wife is no longer automatically integrated into the traditionally defined division of labour based on gender; she can now take up a position completely on her own terms and conditions. A hunter's household can now include a person with a fulltime salaried job, which might have a significant impact on the pattern of financing investments in hunting equipment. One ramification of this is that the household has lost its focal point as a unit of production, although it continues to be a hunter's household with an integrated economy. The second change is the uxorilocality that is characteristic of these couples. This could mean that it is easier for the hunter to adapt to a new geographical and social setting than it is for his wife to get a job in his community of origin. Although we deal with small numbers, we can still notice that virilocality and endogamous residence (the figures are seven virilocal, three endogamous, and four uxorilocal) are prevalent among young hunters who established their own households between 1981 and 1996. Nevertheless, this should not overshadow the above-mentioned new trend in residential practice. There is no rule or ideology that explicitly gives preference to virilocal residence or community endogamy. The explanation for the prevalence of virilocality and settlement endogamy could be sought in the need for community-wide hunting cooperation, for continuous cooperation between (two) adult hunters, be it father/son or brother/brother, and for mutual support between households in critical phases of their developmental cycle. In his interpretation of marriage practices in traditional band societies, Elman Service explained a prevalence of virilocality by the need of hunters to cooperate and not by their knowledge of the territory. 'It seems likely that the importance of the cooperation of males in hunting and in warfare is a more significant factor. To hunt many of the animals, especially those in large herds, requires close collaboration of several men ...' (1966: 37). Although, like Guemple (1972), I am critical of Service's interpretational model, I think that in the Greenlandic case the alliance perspective is one of the most decisive factors, even more important than environmental knowledge. But it is far from being the only one. Scholars of Arctic societies, such as Riches (1982) and Guemple, have pointed out a number of other factors of significance to hunters when they choose location. It is necessary for the hunter to cooperate with other hunters, and it is important that he knows the environment, but today most young hunters also need ac-

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 201 cess to cash income in order to establish themselves - it is the sum of a large number of factors that influence the decision about where to settle down, rather than any strict rule that should be observed. The fact that the traditional residence pattern is basically either endogamous or virilocal makes sense of the following contradiction: on one hand, the household is the main economic unit within the hunting mode of production; but on the other hand, very few households are self-contained units in terms of relations of production or in terms of relations of consumption. Every hunter experiences times when he has to enter into relations of production with a hunter from another household. A variety of causes - an accident with the boat, the non-availability of outboard motors, the son leaving intermittently for another community - can make him rely on cooperation with a friend or relative from another household. Most often the hunter knows his own close relatives, with whom he grew up, better than those of his wife, and everything else being equal, alliances are easily entered upon with them. The strong ties that exist between related men are not simply survivals from pre-colonial band societies, but are also indications of the necessity of strong ties between hunters who have known each other for years, who know how the other thinks and makes decisions in situations of stress or crisis. Cooperation in the hunting itself is an advantage or even a necessity, as is the exchange of meat gifts. Nevertheless, a hunter should be able to raise cash to buy a new boat or outboard motor. To do this he needs support from relatives, besides cash income earned by members of his own household. If the nuclear family of a young newly married couple has a permanent income, and in the short-term perspective has become a self-contained unit, it makes sense to let the choice of residence depend on the permanent job. Adult sons prefer to move away from their parents' house - to another house, at least - when they get married. And most young women no longer want to sleep in the same room as their parents-inlaw. The chances for a young couple to have their own room in a parent's house are very small, since many houses have only a kitchen, a living room, and a small bedroom. Most households are viable on their own only in those years when the son(s) is about sixteen years old until he moves away, usually between twenty and twenty-five years. This means the time span of optimal viability of the household is from five years to a maximum of twenty years, depending on the number of sons and the time span between birth of the first and the youngest son.

202 Saqqaq Outside this five- to twenty-year period, the household depends on the cooperation and mutual support of other households. The significance of strong patrilineal or patrilateral relationships is exemplified by three families who bought small fishing vessels in the mid-1980s. The first boat was bought by a very proficient hunter and his even more capable son. For some years the latter was the person who harvested by far the most seals in Saqqaq. Father and son very often cooperated in hunting activities, and the son regularly fished and hunted from other settlements. Buying this boat made it possible for them to enter commercial Greenland halibut fishing, operating out of Saqqaq. The son married a girl from up north. She moved to Saqqaq, bringing her mother. They moved into one of the larger houses and soon had a couple of children. For years, he was very successful, fishing Greenland halibut in summer and hunting during winter. He employed young men, non-relatives or relatives of his wife, to fish with him. At that time, his father, then in his fifties, his mother, and two younger brothers left Saqqaq to live in Ilulissat. Another boat was bought as a result of a joint venture between three brothers, of whom one was a hunter, a second had irregular income, and the third was a pensioner; the latter two were unmarried. The hunter had for many years hunted and fished with his oldest son (stepson), and they were active in operating the new boat. The son, however, was away from Saqqaq most of the year fishing with trawlers and shrimp vessels. He was replaced by a younger brother. Each of the three brothers had their own household, but the two unmarried brothers usually stayed together. Among these households there was extensive collaboration, which made each household viable. It also furthered a smooth generational transition since the sons of the hunter could rely on broad assistance during the years when they gradually established themselves as hunters and fishermen in Saqqaq - if that was what they wanted! A third boat was obtained by two young unmarried brothers living with their parents; their father was very old. Both of them were capable and proficient hunters. Sometime after they bought the boat, the elder brother, now in his mid-twenties, left Saqqaq for long periods to fish with trawlers far from home. The other brother, a few years younger, operated the boat and fished with relatives (a younger brother among others) and friends. After some years, each of the two brothers had established their own households in Saqqaq, but they continued their cooperation in hunting and in fishing. During winter, they took turns

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 203 checking each other's seal nets; in the open-water season, they worked the fishing boat together and were often successful in catching beluga and narwhal. In summary, fairly strong evidence points towards alliances between closely related men being the most successful and viable. Let us now turn to those families (hunters' households) who left Saqqaq in the 1980s. There is, of course, no easy answer to the question of why they, in each specific case, left the settlement. Many factors may have influenced the individual decision - health, the wish to stay with children who live in Ilulissat, life in the city, and so on. But allow me to point to the fact that all these families (four) were in what we could term a critical transitional phase of domestic development. In the case of one of the emigrating families, the hunter was evidently in failing health at the time they decided to move. Two of his teenaged sons had left school, but apparently were not old enough, able, motivated, or interested in supporting the family by pursuing a hunting and fishing way of life. Although born in Saqqaq, the father had no relatives there, but the mother had siblings and other relatives in the community. It is worth noting that the economic strategy pursued by this family diverged somewhat from that of others. In the early 1980s, we observed that they made a huge input in capelin fishing, where they could take advantage of having a large family with many children. Furthermore, and in contrast to the 'norm/ the hunter obviously preferred seal netting to open-water sealing. He also made an effort always to be on the spot during beluga hunting. In none of these strategies did he rely heavily on support from relatives, but when he hunted beluga his fifteen-year-old son was always with him, steering the boat. We have never seen and were never told that he actively cooperated with his wife's relatives, but this is not to be taken as an expression of tense relations. When this family left Saqqaq, they moved to Ilulissat, where both man and wife had relatives. The family stayed in Ilulissat, but in 1995 the oldest son started to build his own house in Saqqaq. He was still unmarried, but was expected to move to Saqqaq in 1996. In a second case, a widowed hunter mentioned earlier lived with his eldest adult daughter and two younger sons. In the mid-1980s, both sons had left school at a time when the father, around sixty years old, was less active in hunting activities. His fingers were gnarled from many years paddling a kayak - like other hunters in Saqqaq - and, although always very active, he must have had a feeling of getting old. He did boat sealing with his daughter, his eldest son, or a friend, and in

204 Saqqaq spring his two other daughters returned to Saqqaq to fish ammassat, which was an extremely significant activity for this family. Apparently neither of his two sons would continue schooling outside Saqqaq, and if both of the sons had left Saqqaq for other reasons, which most young men do periodically before getting married, the family might have run into structural problems. In the mid-1980s, when both sons had become adult and the oldest started to fish from Ilulissat, the whole family moved to town, where they joined another daughter. The sons became fishermen, and both daughters had salaried employment. In an economic and structural sense, they had made an efficacious decision. They kept the house in Saqqaq, returning in summer for beluga hunting, for capelin fishing, or for enjoyment. In the early 1990s the father was lost when he fell overboard from their fishing boat, and the two daughters moved back to Saqqaq. The younger, who had two children, took a job as a domestic assistant while the older worked in the fishprocessing plant. The small 'hunter's house' of their childhood was expanded, and they seemed to have made a fortunate decision when they moved back to Saqqaq. Then around 1995-6, the two sons moved back to Saqqaq and established themselves as hunters. The younger constructed his own house, where he moved with his wife and children. The older brother had a girlfriend with salaried employment in neighbouring Qeqertaq; he had not yet established himself, but lived with his siblings. The two brothers hunted and fished together, and in 1996, the family (sisters and brothers) ordered a small fishing boat, which was expected to arrive late that year. It came as no surprise when we learned of the emigration from Saqqaq of a thirty-year-old hunter, his wife, and two small children. He grew up in a non-hunting household and was never a prosperous hunter. Although he had relatives in Saqqaq, he could not rely on them for his hunting and fishing activities, and he was never able to establish other lasting or viable cooperative hunting and fishing relations. His wife came from Uummannaq district and had no relatives in Saqqaq. He received regular economic support from his parents, but there seemed to be no prospects for him to rely dependably on a hunting and fishing mode of production. The family moved to Ilulissat where they engaged in share fishing and wage work. Years later, the couple divorced, and the man returned to Saqqaq with another woman and obtained a job as an unskilled municipal labourer. A hunter previously mentioned, his wife, and two of their children left Saqqaq at a time when the oldest son had established his own

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 205 household in Saqqaq and was successfully operating a newly acquired fishing boat. They had daughters in town, and there seemed to be no economic reason forcing them to leave Saqqaq. They had even built a new large house in Saqqaq a few years earlier. On the other hand, the son, having acquired a fishing boat, had become economically independent so the father and mother were not obliged to stay. I would say that this household was able to cope with the advent of a new generation by eliminating the dependency between father and son. This could be seen as a logical process in today's Greenlandic society, but not an option open to everybody. A final comment on this case is that the father and mother did not stay together for long after having moved to Ilulissat. Some time after the divorce, the father moved back to Saqqaq with his youngest son, who took up hunting and fishing. As a way of living, hunting is based on partnership relations and so is the household as a unit of production and consumption. The introduction of commercial fish processing in Saqqaq was, directly or indirectly, a blow to some of these partnership relations. Nevertheless, others will continue to exist and make possible the survival of the hunting way of life. The conscious imputing of the value of exchange and partnership in the younger generation in the form of naming practices, meat gift relations, celebration of the first catch, and so forth, implies that, whereas institutions based on market economy and cash (the fish-processing plant) can be accommodated within the community, it is more difficult for personal relationships to be based on money. A person in Saqqaq who is skilled in repairing outboard motors, sledges, or other equipment does not expect to be paid in cash for his services because these are seen as part of kinship or partnership relations. For many years, a Danish technician has lived in Saqqaq. He is extremely knowledgeable in all kinds of technical matters, and it is thanks to him that such items as outboard motors, radios, and washing machines usually function in Saqqaq. However, he has never relied on hunting and fishing and has had problems with payment for his many jobs. People have also had problems with how he should be remunerated. Since he was doing so many jobs every week, it could never be fair only to pay him in meat, which meant that often he had neither meat nor money. On the other hand, he was very reluctant to turn his technical skills into an institutional system by establishing a 'firm/ and for many years he preferred to work informally at home or at the electricity plant, which he supervised. He also worked for entrepreneurs constructing wharfs and installing water in Saqqaq and Qeqertaq during summers. He was, and is,

206 Saqqaq integrated into the social network of partnership relationships, and this is a prime explanatory factor why he, even after having married locally and lived there for about twenty years, has always been reluctant to establish business relations with the local population. Like the lack of skills in preparing sealskins among many young women, the establishment of the fish-processing plant and the availability of a considerable number of permanent salaried positions will change and reduce the role of the household as a unit of production. But there is a dialectic in the process, because the availability of wage labour is also a determining factor for young women to remain in Saqqaq, and this ultimately affects the opportunities for young men to remain in the settlement and pursue a hunting and fishing way of life. Man the Provider In chapter 3 on ammassat fishing, an account was given of a diachronic change in roles allocated to men and to women. Today, in contrast to earlier days, scooping and carrying fish from the boat or water edge is done by men only; the men thus provide fish for women to spread out on the drying grounds. The explanation given for this change in gender roles was that ammassat fishing changed from being a purely subsistence activity to a cash-oriented project. There is another logic in this change from women (and men) doing the scooping to only men doing it. Man has always been hunter and provider.3 Being a hunter is not only a technical role but a status position filled with symbolic values. This further explains why a person can be a hunter even though he hunts very rarely. Some years back, I interviewed mine workers who had given up hunting to work in the lead-zinc mine at Maarmorilik, farther to the north of Disko Bay. Among a lot of other questions they were asked, Tf we met you on the street in a town down south during one of your holidays and asked you if you are a hunter or a mine worker, what would you answer?' And most of them answered, T am a hunter/ As Fred Myers noted: 'Change is not understandable in terms of the subsistence technology alone but is also directed by the purposes and aspirations of the participants. Thus, there may be "hunter-gatherer people" who hardly seem to hunt and 3 This is not limited to Greenland or Inuit societies, but is integral to all societies where men do the hunting. Henriksen (1993: 26ff.) deals extensively with this from the Innu of Labrador, Canada.

Cooperation, Exchange, and Division of Labour 207 gather any more' (1988: 273). This might also aid in understanding why unemployment or underemployment is a harder blow to men than to women, and also why Greenlandic men often seem to be less well integrated into roles embedded in the industrial society, which often negate roles predominant in the culture based on hunting. The increased availability of salaried jobs has de facto made women the provider of the main cash income in many households. This is appreciated by the men, because the income enhances their opportunities to continue in a hunting way of life. So, in a way, the new status of the women can be used for them to persist in asserting the ideology of 'man the provider.' The men in Saqqaq very often, and with pride, talk about themselves as being hunters, explaining differences between Saqqaq and other settlements in this regard. The role of hunter is a social position, which men generally try to monopolize. The developmental trend is towards more equality between men and women, for example, in the educational system. Thus, the social role of hunter becomes even more significant to men. Hunting is an activity that confers prestige, setting the skilled person aside from his settlement compatriots. But hunting also confirms the identity of people with nature, with the territory occupied. 'Hunting is the means par excellence to express identity and maintain self-respect' (Rasing 1994:172). The identity-confirming process is needed by most Greenlanders and signals an ethnic identity that differentiates them from Danes. As an old hunter in Canada is reported to have said: 'Some of us are hunters all the time, but all of us are hunters some of the time' (cf. ibid). My inference is that when people stress the role of being a hunter or, indeed, revive its significance, this is pivotal to what I label 'the hunting mode of production.'

7

An Inuit Hunting Mode of Production

Hunting as a Way of Life The previous chapters focused on the main harvesting activities as they take place in Saqqaq today. Seal hunting is a year-round activity, and so is the fishing of Greenland halibut; beluga hunting and ammassat fishing are concentrated harvesting efforts within confined seasons. Whereas sealing epitomizes hunting as an activity that traditionally has linked man and woman in the sphere of production, the beluga-hunting complex is a communal activity par excellence, and ammassat fishing represents the physical opening of the community. The proliferation of Greenland halibut fishing has launched an unprecedented economic boom in this and other small settlements of Northwest Greenland. The various harvesting activities, of which the above mentioned are outstanding, are linked and combined with salaried jobs in a structural economic whole. It is to this system that I apply the term 'a hunting mode of production' (Dahl 1989). It has its roots in the colonial history of Greenland, and partly because of its built-in flexibility and strong ideological foundation, it has revealed an outstanding ability to incorporate technological changes coming from outside, and also to survive in a world being dominated by market forces and industrialization. When I use 'hunting mode of production' as an analytical frame of reference, the focus is on the social relations of production, the material conditions, and the ecological restrictions under which hunters pursue their harvesting activities. 'Mode of production' as such is not the kind of analytical tool that we can carry in our pocket or that we can easily observe, but it consists of the three elements that we can recognize empirically, and that are organized in a more or less consistent way.

An Inuit Hunting Mode of Production 209 The hunting mode of production' refers to the way that people in a hunting community relate to their environment and to one another, given certain technical and economic conditions, and considering that exogenous factors are processed through the relations of production (Lee 1981: 16). The mode of production concept confers dominance to the relations of production, even though they are not determinants in a strict sense. In previous chapters, this was reflected in the longer accounts of sharing, exchange, territorial appropriation, and hunters' control over their means and conditions of production. These are the most prominent relations of production. The anthropology of Inuit societies has always paid much attention to environmental factors. Since anthropologists like Franz Boas (1964) and Marcel Mauss (1979) wrote their studies at the turn of the century, most anthropologists have refuted geographical determinism. Although the Inuit are not seen as slaves of the harsh Arctic environments, survival is still a key word in most studies of hunting and subsistence in Inuit societies. The mode of production concept moves the focus away from Inuit as mere fighters of the cold and slavelike harvesters of natural resources towards a human-ecological approach that incorporates economic, political, and ideological factors. The mode of production concept moves the focus from the environmental impact and stress on what hunters do to survive and optimize harvesting to how community members act towards one another in order to pursue a culturally accepted way of living. I have therefore written more about sharing and exchange than about optimal harvesting. By applying a mode of production approach, I also wanted to dissociate myself from an approach that transforms community studies into sheer symbolic affairs. The approach chosen here is to a large extent in line with those applied by Lee (1981) and Leacock (Leacock and Lee 1982). The mode of production concept has often been applied to analyse the process by which the capitalist mode of production has destroyed and incorporated non-capitalist modes of production. While I do not refute that the capitalist mode of production has gradually subordinated all other modes of production, it is essential to stress that, in the case of Saqqaq, we have an example of a mode of production that has developed its own terms and conditions rather than simply being completely swallowed during the process of transformation. Writing from Canada, Tanner (1979) applied the term 'relative autonomy' to a process comparable to the one with which we are dealing. I fully agree with

210 Saqqaq him that this 'results not from the ability of the hunting sector of the economy to resist this historical process of externally-caused change, but to modify its mode of production in a way that enables the hunting group to retain control of the means of production, and ensure the conditions for its own reproduction despite the existence of these powerful external influences' (12f). For full credit to be given to the peculiarities of the way of life in a modern hunting community in Greenland, it is of fundamental importance to see the logic of each harvesting activity as part of a mode of production instead of linking the analysis of each activity to western market-based economic concepts or to environmental determinism. Otherwise, we will never have a chance to understand the logic of seal hunting, for example, as part of a social complex. People do not normally celebrate sealing or ammassat fishing as a specific cultural activity, nor do they, regarding technical terms, praise beluga hunting as a specific indigenous subsistence activity. I agree with Usher when he writes: 'I am suggesting that native people (like other people) have a greater allegiance to a mode of production as a whole than to some particular feature of it - in this case, to a social system based on fish and wildlife harvesting than to love of fish and wildlife per se' (1981: 62). As a way of life, hunting is based on the hunting mode of production. Framing the centre of social life, we find, first of all, the household and the social community, which is made up of the Saqqarmiut. Most, but not all, Saqqarmiut live in Saqqaq. The household has a pivotal role as a unit of production and unit of consumption. All harvesting-related activities in the community are linked in a horizontal network through kinship and various social and political alliances. It is this web of exchange relations, hunting cooperation, and partnership alliances that makes Saqqaq a social and cultural community. The hunters have always depended on the marketing of blubber, sealskin, or fish, but throughout history the members of this community have basically been able to incorporate the world market into their own structure, rather than vice versa. Seen from the point of view of the hunting community, some people have marginalized themselves from the community, moved to the cities, and joined another way of life. This is not to say that the hunting mode of production and the hunting way of life has remained unchanged, but if we limit ourselves to a sectoral approach, we will never understand why twenty per cent of the Greenlandic population has remained in the settlements with all odds against them, nor will we be able to grasp the way that self-government, industrial investments,

An Inuit Hunting Mode of Production 211 revolution in the communication system, and so on have been accepted by Saqqarmiut and other villagers in Greenland. This chapter focuses on three themes: the subsistence controversy, the issue of the annual cycle of harvesting activities, and the role of indigenous knowledge. Each theme is related to the configuration of the hunting mode of production. To this end the characteristics of the hunting mode of production as we now know it in Saqqaq can be summarized as seven essential pillars. The Seven Pillars of the Hunting Mode of Production The primary logic of harvesting activities is to meet the needs of the household. Each household is linked with other households through a network of relations based on kinship, naming, friendship, political allegiance, neighbourhood, and the like. It is this network that integrates and defines the community as a social and cultural entity based on a number of households as focal units of production and units of consumption. We have seen how planning of ammassat fishing depended on the composition of the household. We have also been able to confirm that skins from seals harvested by the hunter are processed by his wife. Often salaried jobs fulfil a need within the hunter's household, rather than a desire of the person to use his/her skills or to satisfy personal ambitions. We have also seen how brothers and sisters pool the resources of their respective households to buy a fishing boat or make other types of investments. As a major economic unit the household is one of the pillars of the hunting mode of production. Seen in the mirror of history, one of the most conspicuous continuities in the development and evolution of the Greenlandic hunting communities has been the ability of each individual hunter himself to control the primary process of production (hunting and fishing) and also the means of production; among the most important of these are boats with outboard motors, dog sledges, and until a generation ago, kayaks, which are no longer in use in Saqqaq. The hunter simply owns his own means of production, and he decides when to go hunting, when to fish Greenland halibut, and when to spend time socializing. This control and ownership is essential to a flexible harvesting strategy, that is, to the hunter's ability to shift from an intensive resource exploitation to an ad hoc niche-oriented strategy; this is very often taken for granted, but it should not be. It is remarkable that, in spite of enormous changes in the technology applied by the hunters, they have always

212 Saqqaq maintained control of the hunting process as such. This is a second and essential pillar of the hunting mode of production. While noting the importance of the individual control of the hunting as such, we have to realize that this individuality is closely associated with two aspects of collective or communal concern. One relates to the distribution and exchange of resources and information among members of the community, including relatives and friends living outside the settlement. Much stress has been put on the public sharing of beluga and the exchange of meat gifts, which include all members of the community. It has also been made clear that to become a hunter the young man relies on non-institutional information to be furnished by the elders. Information is given, exchanged, and appropriated in a communal network within which authority and status is collectively acquired and confirmed. The integrative nature of the community is thus reinforced by a closely knit network of kinship and alliances. This collective network or system of exchange is the third pillar. The territory of the Saqqarmiut is the land (including water bodies and ice) under collective and non-exclusive appropriation. The use of this territory is a positive right open to all members of the community. It does not directly exclude outsiders, and movement between communities is free. According to customary tradition, all members of a community have free access to its resources. Limited use rights or prescriptive rights exist in connection with recurrent use (ammassat drying grounds is an example mentioned), but they do not prohibit others from harvesting specific resources. All hunters can thus harvest seals and belugas provided that they have a licence, because there are no recognized hunting or fishing territories exclusive to members of specific families or communities. The collective and free access to the land and the territory is a fourth pillar. Hunting is a concept and attached to it are strong ideological connotations. It epitomizes tradition, prestige, and, in a sense, the priority of men's activities over those of women. Within the social and cultural network of the community, the skilled hunter can achieve a status that cannot be reached by means such as high salaries, political position, or other jobs. Hunting is thus an identity-carrying activity as much as a harvesting enterprise. And only men can be - or rather - only men are hunters. The role of the hunter is the role of provider, not only of highly valued goods (meat), but also of status and prestige, which flows to the skilled hunter as well as his wife - even though his wife might have a salaried job without which the household could not survive. When the

An Inuit Hunting Mode of Production 213 hunter comes back to the community, he comes home with news about the world, nature, and people from other communities whom he has met; returning home he provides this information to those who remained behind in the settlement. Nowadays, it is obvious that the division of labour between men and women is rapidly changing as young and educated women increasingly occupy salaried jobs and influential positions. By various means, men try to maintain and enlarge the role of being the provider, and thus confirm and stress the cultural and symbolic identity and meaning implied by the act of coming home with and delivering the essence of culture to the family and the other members of the community. In this sense, the role of the hunter as the provider of essential cultural and identity-carrying goods is a pillar of the hunting mode of production. The sixth pillar refers to the instantaneous character of life in a hunting community. The weather is unpredictable and so is the exact location and time of appearance of the game animals. In his harvesting activities, the hunter is niche-oriented, and flexibility is to him a sine qua non. Indeed flexibility permeates all or most aspects of social life. This gives room for, or necessitates, individual decision-making without there being too many narrowing restrictions and rules. Life in the hunting community is characterized by 'guided behaviour/ but very few rules. Behaviour is expected rather than a matter of cause and effect. The way of life in the hunting community could be seen as an individual's paradise, which favours the strong and selfish person. It might seem so, but those who take advantage of the cultural demand for flexibility only for selfish purposes lose the support of the community. In this respect, flexibility is a precarious act of balance between the self and the collective, because while most decision-making is individual, the control rests with the collective. The hunting mode of production relies on sustainable use of nature and of resources. Low population density, frequent movement between communities, and a number of cultural harvesting habits have always safeguarded the reproduction of the renewable resources. Until a few generations ago, if this balance was endangered, the result was hunger and sometimes even starvation. This is no longer the case, and the nonsustainable exploitation of resources by individuals has become a threat to the mode of production. It is important to understand clearly that it is not the actions of each individual that are guided by sustainability (a hunter always takes the game animal when the chance is there), but ensuring sustainability takes place at the level of the functioning of the

214 Saqqaq mode of production. One of the means of providing for this is traditional knowledge, which includes religious and non-religious practices and ways of dealing with the game animals. Traditional knowledge is orally transmitted, based on observed behaviour, and essential for a hunter's control of the process of production (second pillar). Today, new means such as quotas and various types of hunting restrictions have been adopted; they ameliorate the potential deleterious effects of the disappearance of the old control mechanisms and the adoption of new technology. Notwithstanding these new means, sustainability continues to be a pillar of the hunting mode of production. Each of these seven pillars undergoes constant change. It is the remodelling of the pillars and the incorporation of new technology and innovations that have enabled the hunting communities to survive and to develop. But combined, these seven pillars give hunting as a way of life and a mode of production the chance to persist and to prosper in today's Greenland. Incorporated into the world market, the reproduction of the hunting mode of production depends on the availability of a commercial market for fish products and on salaried employment opportunities. There is thus no unilinear development in Greenland from a mode of production based exclusively on hunting as it was known in 'the old days' to a modern industrialized fishery as it exists in the major towns of West Greenland. Commercial fishing has made it possible to reproduce basic relations as these have been identified under the term 'hunting mode of production.' The use of the conceptual frame of the 'mode of production' should help us to grasp an essential part of the logic (an essential aspect of hunting is that there is no cogent logic) of the life in a community of hunters like Saqqaq. In this light, I now briefly touch upon three themes that are often under public and scientific scrutiny. These thematic issues are the subsistence debate, the role of the annual cycle as a concept in hunters' decision-making, and the meaning of traditional knowledge. Subsistence Subsistence is a much debated and controversial concept. It has been widely adopted and applied by authorities to regulate harvesting of renewable resources, and by European and North American environmental organizations to curtail indigenous as well as other types of hunting and trapping activities.

An Inuit Hunting Mode of Production 215 Subsistence is often defined as production and distribution for home or local consumption, in contrast to commercial harvesting and marketing of hunting and fishing products. 'Subsistence hunting may be regarded as hunting for household economy, with a distribution system which secures that the community shares the products' (Kapel and Petersen 1982) is such a definition. However, even if we accept this definition, it must be stressed that all subsistence activities of today presuppose some kind of commercial or salaried activity. Whether it is for the market or for home consumption, no one can go hunting or fishing without having money for investments in boat, gear, gasoline, etc. Others have stressed the link between subsistence and a more or less traditional ('aboriginal') indigenous culture, the application of traditional means of production etc. Unfortunately, there is no generally recognized definition of the concept 'traditional,' and it has been widely used by organizations, people, and institutions from the dominant Euro-cultures to confine and control the activities of Arctic hunting cultures. Most of these definitions focus on sectorial activities, on means and methods that are seen as negations of 'market,' 'commercial/ 'modern,' etc. Like other settlements, Saqqaq would typically be designated as a subsistence-oriented community. Unfortunately, this does not impart a full understanding of the settlement as a socially, culturally, and economically viable community. I prefer a structural approach with a view of subsistence as an integrated part of the hunting mode of production. Taking this approach, we can define subsistence (Dahl 1989: 27ff) as harvesting activities or those aspects of these activities necessary to sustain the units of reproduction and the reproduction of labour. The social and cultural aspect is essential, and the intent of subsistence is 'to sustain local social, cultural and economic activities intergenerationally in their essential form and content ...,' as stressed by Freeman (1993: 249) in order to distinguish subsistence from commercial activities (whaling, in that case). While the logic of seal hunting in a community like Saqqaq may seem difficult to grasp taking into consideration the fluctuations in the world market of fur prices, it can be explained by the role of subsistence in this type of hunting. As presented in the preceding chapter, it is not the cash motivation, but the significance of meat and the role of the hunter as provider that explain why people go sealing. This does not preclude selling meat for cash. Actually, meat is sometimes marketed by the

216 Saqqaq hunter - though very often it is not. In 1986, the processing plant in Saqqaq bought seal meat of a value three times that of capelin and onefifth of the total value of traded fish and hunting products (that year Greenland halibut alone amounted to three-fifths). Nevertheless, marketing or not marketing seal meat - sealing is still a subsistence activity. Within the hunting mode of production, subsistence is an integrated part of harvesting activities, pursued by independent hunters and fishermen who control their own means of production. This mode of production is often related to hunting and fishing in their 'traditional' forms, despite the fact that small boats from twelve to twenty-two feet with outboard motors are among the most important means of production. Subsistence is thus an activity essential to the hunting mode of production, but the two concepts should never be considered identical. Like subsistence, the hunting mode of production includes income from paid employment or from social benefits. It is also important to note that subsistence is a significant subsidiary activity pursued by people who rely mainly on wage labour and by fishermen engaged in commercial fishing. The ecological and economical viability of the hunting mode of production as this is represented in Saqqaq seems to be founded on the interaction of three different types of niche orientation. One is represented by periods with intensive resource harvesting (beluga hunting, capelin fishing, Greenland halibut fishing), and another by continuous (sealing) or recurrent (bird hunting, varieties of fishing) niche activities. This distinction is not to be confused with the opposition of commercial to subsistence activities. The third niche is salaried employment locally or in other communities. A significant amount of labour is invested during the intensive resource-harvesting activities, and in general these are of great strategic significance. They are strategic but they can also fail, due to environmental factors, such as when severe winters make the beluga migrate north outside Disko Bay to the west of Disko Island, or to political decisions, such as when the trading company makes restrictions on the buying of dried ammassat. There is a certain amount of gambling, which is possible only because these activities are part of a system in which flexibility is an inherent quality. The intensiveness of these resource-harvesting activities is clearly shown by the fact that capelin fishing, which occupied the average household for only two to three weeks in one year, accounted for 26 per cent of the value of hunting and fishing products sold to the trading

An Inuit Hunting Mode of Production 217 company. Furthermore, since dried ammassat is an important winter food for sledge dogs, its economic importance should be clearly recognized. But the most substantial economic role of ammassat is not to be sought in the settlement as such, but at the household level. As it is a distinctly labour-demanding activity, extended families and households that have many teenaged children are in an especially favourable position. For these households above all, ammassat fishing can be treated as a strategic resource. Thus, one household concentrated all its efforts on ammassat and obtained 66 per cent of its trading income from this resource alone. Besides being extremely labour intensive, the seasons of intensive harvesting activities are easily delimited. Hunting of beluga commences immediately after spring thaw and lasts approximately one month; as mentioned, the animals return from the north in autumn, and the hunting season opens the day after the disappearance of wolf fish has been observed. Likewise, ammassat fishing starts in the vicinity of the settlement when seagulls have been observed diving along the shores and promontories. Then, after approximately three weeks, the shoals disappear from shallow waters. Commercial fishing of Greenland halibut falls somewhere in between, because the hunters might try to fish during the whole sailing season, if they are not occupied with more important activities such as beluga hunting. These intensive harvesting activities are strategic in an economic as well as in a cultural sense. This, too, gives activities like beluga hunting and ammassat fishing particular symbolic value and meaning. It is this integrative aspect that gives this type of strategic harvesting its structural significance and places it in a core role for understanding this hunting community in historic perspective and within a process of developmental changes. This combination of economic and symbolic factors is what makes strategic hunting and fishing pivotal subsistence activities, and furthermore explains why the hunting mode of production as practised in Saqqaq still endures - in an ever-changing form whether products are sold or consumed locally or whether hunters use kayaks or boats equipped with outboard motors. Intensive harvesting activities are concerted efforts of the household, the community, or a boat crew. The second variety of subsistence activities is represented by the hunter, who makes the most of any niche available to him, travelling by boat or dog sledge, or walking over land. Sealing is the most prominent within this category. For the Saqqarmiut, seal hunting is no less important than hunting of

218 Saqqaq beluga, but its role is different; harvesting of seals is pursued on an year-round basis. As an extensive activity, it differs markedly from the above-mentioned category of intensive harvesting. Among the different varieties of seals, the ringed seal is most important to the Saqqarmiut, but there are years when the harp seal is of fairly equal significance, and taken together they may be considered what Wenzel (1985: 80) has designated the 'bread and butter' species. What he writes about the significance of the ringed seal among Inuit in Canada applies in Saqqaq to the harp seal and ringed seal taken together. The ringed seal, on the other hand, is available year round, access is not restricted by imposed regulations as to season or number harvestable, it is locally available in high numbers and harvested individuals are rapidly replaced, it is both a high-quality and desired food source and has an accompanying high-potential monetary value' (Wenzel 1986: 77). Seals are not strategic resources to be manipulated in alternating commercial and reproductive strategies. In all societies relying on the exploitation and harvesting of natural resources - that is, hunting and fishing societies - ecological viability is determined by the most extreme conditions pertaining. Thus, in pre-colonial days the size of any Eskimo community was determined not by the peak, but by the lean periods. Living in a world of uncertain and fluctuating occurrence of fish, mammals, and opportunities for wage labour, the Saqqarmiut of today still rely on the hunting of seals as a constant and recurrent resource. In chapter 4 it was shown that seals are pursued on a regular basis and that no significant positive relations between the productivity of the hunt and the scale of invested labour time can be documented. As mentioned, this has a number of explanations. One of them is that seals are a subsistence resource and that seal hunting is basically a noncommercial venture. As formulated by Peter Usher, referring to Inuit in Canada, 'so long as production for use value rather than for exchange value prevails, demand is relatively inelastic' (1981: 58). Thus, harvesting of seals is carried out for the sake of the subsistence value of seal meat and sealskin, and does not correlate with fur prices on the world market. (This does not imply, however, that decreasing prices of sealskins on the world market is without economic importance.) Not all skins from seals harvested are sold. Some are used for subsistence purposes to make boots, coats, trousers, or handicrafts. Others are left to rot in the water either because of poor quality, specifically during

An Inuit Hunting Mode of Production 219 the moulting period, or due to lack of motivation or ability among the women to do the preparation and processing. It is impossible to give any exact data from Saqqaq on the number sold compared to the number used for subsistence purposes. Fewer are used for local consumption today than a generation ago, and more are left unused and unprepared. According to a recent investigation covering Greenland as a whole (Granlands Hjemmestyre 1994: 75), between one-half and onethird are traded, a figure that seems to me surprisingly low.1 But this only further substantiates the value of seal meat to the subsistence economy and to the culture. The question arises whether commercialization of seal meat would lead to an intensification of sealing - a trend that in Saqqaq seems to have characterized ammassat fishing. Selling of seal meat for cash is an old phenomenon in Saqqaq. When the commercial coal mine on Disko Island was in operation from 1924 to 1971, the hunters from Saqqaq had a lucrative market supplying the 1,500 people living in the mining town of Qullissat with seal meat. A few accounts from around 1950 are in existence (supported by personal communications to me from people who lived there), which convey to us the impression of a fairly established trade, with boats loaded with seal meat from Saqqaq arriving up to twice a week (Smidt 1989: 76; Seedorff 1957:521). It can be ascertained decades later that this business did not destroy the important community-wide exchange of seal meat in Saqqaq. Although this system of exchange by the old people has been said to be somewhat eroded, as in all Greenlandic communities, it cannot be explained by the Qullissat business. Since the establishment of a fish-processing plant in Saqqaq, buying seal meat has been tried for some years.2 In 1986 the cooperative bought 8,900 kg of seal meat, equivalent to approximately 350 seals.3 In an average year, this would amount to a maximum of about one-third of the number of seals taken and perhaps one-quarter of the amount of meat, if we assume that more meat from small seals (ringed seals) than 1 There are good reasons to assume that relatively fewer sealskins are traded today than ten or fifteen years ago. 2 The processing plant lost money on this attempt and gave it up in 1987. 3 The estimate is based on 20 kg for a ringed seal and 35 kg for a harp seal; no figures are available as to how many ringed seals and harp seals respectively were traded and the average used. Therefore, 25 kg per seal should be considered a qualified guess. In 1986, meat was bought in the ringed seal season as well as in the harp seal season, but the heavy end seemed to fall on ringed seals.

220 Saqqaq from large seals (harp seals, hooded seals) was sold. (The processing plant buys only whole carcasses and not smaller amounts of meat.) This raises the question of the effect of a trend towards an increased number of seals harvested in those years when it was possible to sell meat locally. This question is difficult to answer because seal meat is sold irregularly at the open-air market (kalaaliaraq) or outside the shops in Ilulissat. This takes place as soon as the ice breaks up. The hunters leave for Ilulissat to visit relatives and to sell seal meat that has been stored in freezers and under the snow cover from the abundant harvesting during the netting and uuttoq season. It is my impression that a substantial amount of this seal meat would never be used by humans at all, but would be given to the dogs. This would mean that sealing has an even more limited impact, since at the same time the intensified Greenland halibut fishing has furnished hunters with a new source of dog food. The official statistics reveal that, in 1980, the Saqqarmiut traded 999 sealskins to the Trading Company; in 1981, they sold 1,085 skins from ringed, harp, and hooded seals. If the above-mentioned investigation carried out by the Home Rule authorities is correct, a maximum of half of the skins from seals harvested is traded, which indicates that at least 2,000 seals were taken in Saqqaq in each of those two years. If we continue this calculation and accept the above estimate from the trading of meat to the production plant, which stipulated that each seal provides 25 kg of meat (which is a low estimate since my calculation also includes meat from the large hooded and bearded seals, which were not traded to the processing plant), the amount of seal meat available to all Saqqarmiut would be about 50,000 kg per year, or about 400 kg for each person. This works out to more than 1 kg of seal meat per person daily, which is undoubtedly more than what is actually consumed, even if we assume that relatively fewer sealskins were sold when Home Rule made its investigation compared to my figures from the early 1980s (see note I).4 In 1986, the price per kilogram of meat sold to the processing plant was 11 DKR; at 25 kg per seal, this amounts to 275 DKR, which is slightly more than or the same as the price obtained from selling the fur. From the statistics of skins traded or from interviews, it is not possible to trace any significant increase in the number of seals harvested due to 4 From the 1930s, Knud Oldendow made an estimation of 260 kg of meat from sea mammals (seals, whales, walrus) per person in Greenland (Oldendow 1945: 26).

An Inuit Hunting Mode of Production 221 local commercialization of seal meat until 1987. As a matter of fact, there would be a number of obstacles to such a trend. The first is that selling of seal meat has taken place for generations anyway, and local marketing of seal meat means only that people do not have to take it to Ilulissat. Furthermore, as far as the ringed seal (the main source of seal meat to be sold at the market) is concerned, it is a non-migratory species, which implies that an equilibrium between hunting efforts and number of retrieved seals would be reached fairly soon. In contrast to terrestrial animals like caribou, migratory localized species like arctic char, and large visible animals like the bowhead whale, which can easily be exterminated, the stock of ringed seal is difficult to deplete. The ringed seal is not taken at its breeding grounds, and every year there is a simple maximum to the number that can be taken on the open sea or under the ice. But this maximum is never reached because of the diminishing return on the labour input. Given the settled residence in Saqqaq, which limits the activity radius, and given the limited number of ringed seals available within this area, it should be fair to assume that the indigenous culture has developed procedures, methods, and traditions that establish an acceptable equilibrium. The apparent absence of intensified harvesting in response to commercial opportunities seems to confirm what has been observed from other hunting and gathering societies concerning the logic inherent in these types of societies (Sahlins 1972: 32ff). The harp seal is a migratory species, which is taken when it passes through Vaigat and Disko Bay. Some meat from harp seals is traded in Ilulissat, but it is of no great significance, and while in late winter people talk about the income they hope to obtain from selling ringed seal meat when the ice breaks up, I have never heard that mentioned in relation to harp seals. The hunters pursue the harp seals if they are there, if they have been observed, but usually they do not pursue the harp seal in order to have more meat to trade. The ecological limitation on the number of seals that can possibly be taken within the activity range of Saqqaq - and other settlements makes hunting relatively inelastic even if an equilibrium is reached at a higher level of numbers harvested than is the case today. These observations have an impact on the subsistence discussion. To apply a distinction between commercial and subsistence sealing as a means of regulating hunting of certain species is, in the case of Greenlandic sealing, to disregard the fact that management of hunting is better done by means that takes into consideration the structural

222 Saqqaq conditions of the hunting mode of production, as summarized in the seven pillars. In accordance with this premise, a ban on commercial marketing of seal products (skins, meat) has a disruptive instead of a regulatory effect. To summarize, seals have the role of bread-and-butter species; this is confirmed ideologically when people 'go hungry/ that is, when they have lacked seal meat for 'a long time/ It is economically substantiated by the non-viability of open-water sealing seen as a mere cash-oriented activity. Therefore, the continuity of seal hunting indicates the basically reproductive and non-commercial orientation of seal hunting. The real value of sealing relates to its character as a recurrent subsistence activity. In an economic sense, it is only viable if cash comes from other sources such as salaried jobs, commercial fishing, or selling of meat and mattak from whaling. Even in such a case, as in Southwest Greenland, where sealing as a subsistence activity is of minor importance on a year-round basis, its role as a stopgap in lean periods gives it a structural significance. Since salaried jobs are mostly available on a seasonal basis, the reproduction of labour primarily takes place within the subsistence-based sector of the hunting mode of production. To maintain a modern fishing industry based on seasonal employment (in the settlement or in the town), a condition is the availability of subsistence hunting and fishing during the lean periods. Conversely, subsistence relies on cash income from various types of activities. Actually, it is meaningless to distinguish between subsistence and commercial hunting as contradictory or mutually exclusive activities, in so far as the viability of both relies on integrated structural relations. This has been observed from Greenland for many years (Dybbroe and M011er 1978; Forchhammer 1989). It is also important not to detach an analysis of the settlement-based subsistence system from the rest of Greenlandic society. The interdependent activity structure promotes flexibility in a situation governed by fluctuating conditions for hunting and fishing, as well as for salaried jobs, and on the world market for hunting products. The hunting mode of production has yet another characteristic that demonstrates its flexible structure. In contrast to agricultural societies, which are dominated by exclusive control of farming areas, the Greenlandic hunter and fisherman can turn from paid employment to fishing or from fishing to subsistence hunting from one day to the next, or from one season to another. This tradition still dominates, although an increasing number of restrictions have been introduced in recent years concerning the free access of everyone to hunt all species.

An Inuit Hunting Mode of Production 223 The above discussion has focused on a structural interpretation of hunting strategies in an economic and ecological perspective. From all over the Arctic, hunting strategies are often accounted for on the basis of a yearly environmental cycle. Many books on the Arctic have been built upon this cyclical description of one season following the next in a recurrent and fairly constant scheme. To the reader, there are obvious advantages in thus having a universal key to these hunting societies, but there are pitfalls, too. One has already been mentioned - harvesting of resources do not just follow each other in a continuous and cyclical way, simply because they have different strategic significance in specific social, economic, and historical circumstances. In this respect, these analyses give too little consideration to individual decision-making. Seasonal Cycle In late January, when the sun returns to Saqqaq, there is a feeling of change, and when in April or May the ice breaks, the social and physical space of the community is enlarged. The seasons are clearly demarcated and the passing over from one season to the next is much debated. It is not only the physical change when one season follows the other. With the appearance of a new season, so many other things return to this community. The beluga returns, the harp seal returns, and so do social relations implicit in these activities. These are the variations so brilliantly described by Marcel Mauss nearly a century ago. Return means to reestablish or reconfirm social relationships. The succession of seasons is a recurrent sequence of alliances as much as it is the return of game animals. In simple functionalist terms, it is extremely important to realize that if a resource is permanently eliminated from the pool of game animals to be pursued by the hunters, it implies as well the disappearance of a network of social relationships. If, for example, beluga hunting, which epitomizes the communal appropriation of nature, is curtailed by outside authorities or institutions, it might endanger the settlement as a collective community as much as remove a resource niche. These social relationships are not unchangeable even though they seem to be recalled with new seasons and with recurrent types of harvesting activities. I hope the preceding chapters have documented such changes in relation to various harvesting or hunting and fishing activities. They are combined or united in a system or network of relations that has exhibited a capacity to persist in many of its basic abilities. I have termed this system a 'hunting mode of production.'

224 Saqqaq In Saqqaq, the appropriation of resources, that is, the ecological relationship between man and resources, is modelled as the combined effect of utilizing three types of niches: strategic resources, bread-andbutter species, and finally a variety of alternative opportunities. To a very large extent, this accounts for ecological strategies as pursued by households, families, and individual hunters. Ecological strategies followed by the households - that is, by the most important unit of production, decision-making, and consumption - do not reflect seasonal variations, but each household acts upon variations and possibilities given by nature. Ammassat is thus made a strategic resource by some households but not by others. To further illustrate my point: to the farmer, to whom nature is the subject of labour, the calendar is an economic as well as an ecological cycle, and first of all, it is a cycle of economic production and reproduction. This is not the case in a modern hunting community like Saqqaq, and the hunter does not see economic activities in calendric terms. Specific harvesting activities are, of course, associated with specific seasons, and people look forward to the events of those seasons. The annual cycle gives the hunter a variety of opportunities that are met according to the developmental cycle of the household, to his abilities, to his wishes, and so forth. It is not so that his harvesting strategy is made up of a string of resources that follow each other according to season. My argument is best illustrated by looking at two types of often applied calendar charts. Both models portray economic or ecological activities in calendric terms. Both figures (figures 7.1 and 7.2) give an impression of activities throughout a 'typical year' (which does not exist, of course). The models have no acting agents as we are not dealing with generative models but a visualization of main and secondary activities in the community. Each figure is an activity chart, like a sample of photos taken by the anthropologist in the community and shown to friends in a faraway country. Nevertheless, it conveys an impression that there is a system of appropriation of natural resources that is applicable to this community. But this is an erroneous message. The community does not exhibit such abilities. The charts are not models of household activities or of individual strategies, and I would assume that we could not find a single hunter who follows this model or whose activities could be plotted into the chart. Nor do we have in front of us models from which forms and strategies can be generated (Barth 1966).

An Inuit Hunting Mode of Production 225

Figure 7.1 Saqqaq calendar chart

Unfortunately, these types of charts convey an impression of environmental determination and do not convey an understanding of strategies developed and followed by individuals, by households, or even by communities. With the charts in front of us we either see an arranged sequence of cyclical activities (figure 7.1) or receive an impression of totality, a system in which something is going on the whole year through (figure 7.2) either as primary or secondary activities. In all households, there are periods when the members do nothing, and there are days, weeks, and even months when a hunter does no harvesting. There are periods of relaxation, there are periods of drinking, and there are those days when the house is repaired or the seal nets are mended.

226 Saqqaq

Figure 7.2 Hunters' households in Saqqaq showing periods of main and secondary activities

Consequently, these calendric charts should be treated with great caution. Like so many other calendars, these are intellectual constructions and, as Bourdieu writes, The problem is that the calendar cannot be understood unless it is set down on paper, and that it is impossible to understand how it works unless one fully realizes that it exists only on paper' (1977: 98). From a community point of view, the charts exclude approximately one-third of the adult population, that is, those households where the provider's income stems from a permanent salaried job; these are teachers, the settlement manager, the storekeepers, workers in the fishprocessing plant, and others. Some of these jobs are only available to the incumbent and not included in the charts. It would also be a fairly boring chart - either a black circular or linear cord. Decision-making within the households leads to a division of labour among man, wife, and other adult members of the household (or family). Planning for a major investment presupposes that someone takes full-time employment in the processing plant for several weeks or months. In many households, the main salaried income is provided by the wife - who is practically non-existent in the modelling of these charts. In the household, decision-making takes place against a background of factors like the developmental cycle of the social unit, strate-

An Inuit Hunting Mode of Production 227 gies to be pursued by economic agents (man, woman), and natural conditions. The annual cycle might exist as a social calendar in the minds of people but not as an ecological chart. In the world of the chart, we meet only the hunter. Clearly, nobody would expect him to follow strategies from a chart, written down or kept in his mind. If the winter is extremely severe, beluga may not appear in waters outside Saqqaq - as was the case for several years in the early and late 1980s. Maybe the sealing season will then be extended. The charts tell us that he will then pursue another of the main resources, like capelin, but just as likely (if his family is small) his wife will turn to wage labour and he will now and then go hunting, or the family will spend the whole summer in another community. Whaling in Saqqaq is an illustration of what Helge Kleivan referred to when he wrote, that 'implements and forms of organization decide what we can exploit in our continuous efforts to achieve and maintain adjustment to our environment. Thus they also decide what we cannot exploit' (1964: 63). In some years, hunting minke whale has been a potential niche to be exploited by Saqqarmiut, but very often the hunters were unable to organize themselves. Similarly, Greenland halibut was for many years a secondary niche but a niche that could be transformed to a main resource for those who were able to accumulate capital to invest in a small fishing vessel. Even though the limitations of these models have been emphasized, we are still left with the 'fact' that the coming and going of seasons is a most remarkable fact in Saqqaq as in all other Arctic communities. People do store dried fish and meat to be consumed in lean seasons, and all activities are strongly influenced by seasonal variations. The knowledge about seasonal variations may be among the most important cultural facts and as such of tremendous significance to hunting as a mode of living and survival. The calendrical charts are based on observations and scientific interpretations, whereas the hunter's information is a traditional knowledge based on empirical observations over generations and given to him by the elders. The scientific procedure is rooted in an agricultural and industrial tradition where knowledge is followed by interpretation and planning. The hunter's experience leads to qualitative judgments (see also Freeman 1985) of a social and cultural nature rather than quantitative measures. The hunter takes decisions that involve social and cultural relations. This is significantly different from seeing the seasons in terms of activities to be planned or economic decisions to be maximized. This is really where western planning

228 Saqqaq based on science tradition collides with hunting based on traditional knowledge. Traditional Knowledge Every day, the hunters listen to the weather forecast from Radio Greenland. Sometimes they laugh a little bit because the forecast is not in accordance with what they have observed themselves. If you then ask one of the hunters if he will stay home because strong winds from the west have been announced, he might reply that the winds do not affect him seriously. Disko Island and the mountains and valleys of Nuussuaq peninsula give Saqqaq its own climatic conditions. A strong westerly wind can change direction and lose its strength before it reaches Saqqaq, with only minor implications for hunting and fishing in the waters around the settlement. The wind is sometimes altered and comes down Vaigat as does the real northern wind, avannaq, but it never comes to anything outside Saqqaq, and the hunters therefore call it asuliuna, 'one that fools.' From observing the clouds, the snow blowing from the mountaintops, winds coming down the Saqqaq valley, and from the behaviour of animals, the hunter can compile an abundance of information about hunting conditions in the area around Saqqaq. And it is these micro-climatic conditions that matter - not the weather as such. The information from the weather forecast does not refute the hunter's own observation, or vice versa. The hunter incorporates the scientific meteorological figures into the information based on his own observations, and sometimes they add to his own conclusions. One day a hunter might say that a storm from the north can be expected; when he is being questioned about the evidence for this, he will only answer, T heard it on the radio.' There is no way that a hunter can learn about local weather conditions from the scientific meteorological observations. Part of being socialized as a hunter is that this knowledge is given to him by relatives and other villagers. As it is with the weather it is also with the behaviour of the game. He listens to the narratives of the old people and he observes himself the behaviour of the animals, and from this he makes his conclusions. The ringed seal, for example, is a stationary mammal, but from years of behavioural observation the hunters can tell the difference between local ringed seals and those that are said to have drifted to Greenland from Canada with the ice. This traditional knowl-

An Inuit Hunting Mode of Production 229 edge is an essential aspect of hunting as a way of life and as a mode of production. This is not the place to take up an extended discussion on various types of knowledge regimes or the difference between scientific, local, indigenous, and traditional knowledge (for such a discussion see, for example, Agrawal (1995) and Kalland (1994)). In this context, I have used traditional knowledge as a term that refers to local traditions and customs that are transferred directly from one person to another. This knowledge is personal and involves personal relations, and as such, the traditional knowledge is reproduced within the social network that makes up the settlement as a community. Knowledge of the environment and of the game animals seems to be prominent. But traditional knowledge also includes a technical component, such as the women's knowledge of preparing sealskins for many different purposes and the men's skills in the production and repair of hunting equipment. Efforts to institutionalize types of knowledge have been done in the school, where one of the settlement women taught skin sewing and one of the hunters instructed the boys in making hunting gear. However, the essential traditional knowledge is not rooted in such technical skills, many of which will disappear and be replaced by modern types of equipment and industrialized processing. The crucial aspect of traditional knowledge, and what makes it differ from other types of knowledge, relates to the incumbent social relations, customary rules, and information flows. Traditional knowledge is closely linked to power and to control. So far, the hunters have retained far-reaching control of their lands and territories, which gives validity to the traditional in situ knowledge. There are, however, processes at the national and international level that encroach upon a small settlement like Saqqaq and that make it necessary for dwellers in this community to acquaint themselves with knowledge and information flows over which they exert very little or no influence. Some of these have been dealt with, and those that refer to decolonization and the establishment of Greenland as a political nation are described in more detail in the next chapter.

8 National Policy - Local Setting

It was a quiet night in early summer. Midnight had already passed, but at this time of the year the sun never sets, and sunbeams were shining with purple colours on mountaintops beyond Disko Bay and Vaigat. As happens often during this time of the year, the sea is dead calm in the middle of the night, and on this night, silence was only imperceptibly broken by an ongoing soccer match. Behind the church and the school is a small flat area used as a playing ground for soccer in winter and summer. Both teams include people from twelve to about thirty years of age. A few women participate sometimes, but this is more common in other communities than in Saqqaq. This night the only women there were a few giggling teenaged onlookers. At this late and yet light hour of the night, the Jensen family is playing against all others, but as a matter of fact, their opposition includes some Jensens, too. On other occasions Greenland's two main political parties, Siumut and Atassut, oppose each other. Settlement geography is also used to define teams; sometimes those from the western part of Saqqaq, Kangaamiut (those from the small promontory), play against those from the east or Nuugaarsormiut (those from the small peninsula). From other settlements we learned that soccer games were always between the Christian Temperance Society (Bla Kors) and the drinkers (amaartartut}. Significant social relations are revealed by the soccer games. The make-up of soccer teams is a process of symbolic identification reflecting main or paramount alliances in the small community. This process of identification is a symbolic presentation of community oppositions; it is therefore not always that only Siumut supporters are on the Siumut

National Policy - Local Setting 231 team. This is most obviously revealed when children play this political game during school break. Nor can we expect all Jensens to be on the Jensen team - more than half of all families have Jensen as their last name - but to explain why Jensen is made into a symbol we must know that Jensen is by far the most common family name in Saqqaq. Most of the Jensens are related, but not all of them. Whereas a common family name is a local phenomenon, the establishment of political parties in Saqqaq reflects processes of the national (Greenland) arena. To understand political decision-making and political alliances in this small community, we have to look into the formalized and non-formalized settlement organization, which reflects local as well as national factors. As I mentioned early in this book, Greenland has a long tradition with representative political institutions. Until Home Rule, these were imposed from above by the colonial authorities; even when political parties appeared on the scene in the mid-1970s, they came to life in response to decolonization, reflecting grassroots initiatives to a much lesser degree. This vertical and institutional integration has been a constant factor in the history of Greenland and has influenced life in each and every community. To deal with this issue, we now take a close look at the establishment of political parties in Greenland and the effect of this on settlement life. But first we should be acquainted with the many voluntary associations, most of them local branches of national institutions. Associations All towns and settlements in Greenland have a large number of voluntary associations. Typically, these associations have two meetings a year: a general meeting and a social event like a bingo evening from which money is raised. A few of these associations are organized to take care of a common property; these are the Electricity Association, the Coop, and the Community Hall Association. In the mid-1970s, a diesel plant was established in Saqqaq; with the exception of a few houses, all had electricity installed in the early 1980s. Electricity is very expensive, even though a reform in the mid-1980s stipulated a uniform price in the whole municipality (later in the whole of Greenland) to replace the cost-price of earlier days. This reform made electricity cheaper in Saqqaq and some families now even use electricity instead of gas for cooking. Since this change in municipal and

232 Saqqaq national policy, the Electricity Association has not been very significant, because most decisions are made outside the local community. This is in contrast to the Co-op Vaigat, which was organized to raise money for establishing a fish-processing plant. In the early 1980s most households were represented in the Co-op and paid the rather symbolic entrance fee. To obtain public funding for a Co-op, people have to raise a small percentage of the investment costs; this was done in Saqqaq in the late 1970s and early 1980s. As mentioned elsewhere, the fish-processing plant was built in 1983, but it very soon went deeply in debt and has since been taken care of by shifting Home Rule departments. The Co-op does not exist anymore, and Vaigat was taken over by KTU (later Royal Greenland). There have been several financial crises in the operation of the plant, including lack of proper accounting, extremely low productivity, problems in the transport of frozen fish from Saqqaq, etc. These types of problems are known in other communities, too. During the years when money was raised to establish a fish-processing plant, the venture looked reasonably successful. However, when it came to the working of the investment, conflicts, which I have referred to in an earlier chapter as conflicts between two modes of production, immediately arose. Conflicts seem to be most outspoken if the person (or persons) in charge is from Saqqaq and has a wide network of kinship and friendship relations in the community. If the person in charge is from the community, people prefer him to run the venture in the same manner as a household, that is, duplicating well-known types of relations of production and relations of solidarity. In the early 1980s, the Co-op and the Electricity Association were governed, as were most associations, by a board of three persons: a chairman, vice-chairman, and treasurer. In the Co-op and the Electricity Association, as well as in the property-holding association, the Community Hall Association, these offices were filled by the same three people: The Trade manager, his wife, and a third person. The wife was Saqqaq's member of the municipal council, and her husband, The Trade manager, was in charge of most settlement affairs. This changed in the late 1980s when institutional influence became more diversified, coinciding with a general decrease in association activities. Membership in these associations is not restricted, and they are obviously used as arenas to confirm and expose political authority. This is a formal type of authority, in contrast to the informal authority so characteristic of hunting leadership.

National Policy - Local Setting 233 Other associations with membership open to all are the Sports Club, the Christian Temperance Society, and the Burial Club. The Sports Club is a non-property holding association whose members play table tennis in the community hall in winter, and soccer when there is a ball to play with. Membership of the Christian Temperance Society is likewise open to all, and many youngsters, inuusuttut,1 join. The Burial Club is a mutual-security association that provides support in case of the death of one of its members. They meet once a year, and sometimes attend regional meetings with representatives of burial clubs from the Disko Bay region. Three associations have restricted membership. One of these is the women's association Arnat Peqatigiit. Meetings are held more often than in other associations and various activities are undertaken, although in Saqqaq the assocation is less active than in other settlements. They meet, for example, to practise traditional Greenlandic needlework, but the meetings are mainly social events. Once a year during the Easter season, they arrange a women's dog race. Arnat Peqatigiit also has regional meetings, and in a few instances, a member has taken a course at the women's folk high school in Sisimiut. The Hunters' and Fishermen's Organization, KNAPK, is open to all who practise hunting and fishing. But generally a person is not a member of both KNAPK and of the Workers Association (see below). At the national level, KNAPK negotiates prices with The Trade (now with Royal Greenland), and trading conditions are thus stipulated centrally. The same prices usually apply to trading fish and meat to a cooperative. The Saqqaq branch of KNAPK is important in the management of local hunting affairs. Thus, when serious disagreements have arisen concerning rules and regulations of beluga hunting and sharing, the matters have been discussed at a meeting of KNAPK in the community hall. The meetings are sometimes very heated, but the decisions made are considered binding to the whole community, not just to members of KNAPK. Practical arrangements for allocations of caribou and whale quotas are made through KNAPK, and thus, besides having a function as regulator of customary rules, the association also exerts a certain authoritative role. The chair of KNAPK is therefore an important position, and the conditions for being elected to this position are quite different from all other associations, which are much more open as arenas for 1 Langgaard (1986) has elaborated on the meaning of being a youngster, inuusuttoq.

234 Saqqaq political competition in settlement affairs. Status as chairman of KNAPK might be used for political self-promotion, but is not used for open competition between political parties (in sharp contrast to election in the main national KNAPK organization). Nor is the chairman one who relies only on his 'traditional' authority, a piniartorsuaq. The third restricted-membership association is the labour union, S.I.K. The Saqqaq branch has only a few members, and for many years there was little basis for having meetings. The last type of association is the political party. Two political parties, the Siumut and the Atassut, have local branches in Saqqaq. Since the role of political parties has grown tremendously following introduction of Home Rule in 1979, I now turn to examine in depth the whole political system and its impact on life in Saqqaq. Political Parties Danish policy in Greenland had as one of its effects that, from an early stage of colonial history, Greenlanders became involved in regional and local representative or elected bodies. Since those days, a gradual political decolonization has given Greenlanders more and more political influence and responsibility. Today, Greenland's internal political system is a matter of Home Rule authority. In each Greenlandic settlement like Saqqaq, there is a settlement council, which is an advisory body to one of Greenland's seventeen municipal councils and to the member of the municipal council elected in the settlement. Until 1997, as part of Ilulissat municipality, Saqqarmiut appointed one member of the municipal council, and the community had its own three-seat advisory settlement council. Since 1997, settlements no longer automatically appoint a member to the municipal councils. Since then, the municipality, including towns and settlements, makes up one constituency. In April 1997, Saqqaq elected two people, one from the Siumut party and one from the Citizens List (table 8.1). In elections to the Home Rule Parliament (Grl: Inatsisartut; Da.: Landsting), Saqqaq is in the Disko Bay constituency, which, in 1979, elected four members to the first Home Rule Parliament. For elections to the Greenlandic parliament, Greenland consists of five single-member constituencies (the so-called outlying districts) and three major constituencies - Disko Bay, Central West Greenland, and South Greenland. From 1983, Disko Bay has elected five members, to which can be added one or two supplementary seats. The 1995 parliament consisted of thirty-

National Policy - Local Setting 235 TABLE 8.1 Municipal election 1997, llulissat. Elected members and their party association Name

Community

Party

Ole Dorph (mayor) Johanne Olsen Lars Ludvig Petersen Hans Eriksen Ruth Moller Jensen Ove Villadsen Malene Fiilskov Amalie Markussen Anthon Frederiksen Jonas Isak Reimer Frederik Rosbach Peter Karl Jensen Nikolaj Lange

llulissat llulissat llulissat llulissat Saqqaq llulissat llulissat llulissat llulissat llulissat llulissat Saqqaq Qeqertaq

Siumut Siumut Siumut Siumut Siumut Siumut Atassut Inuit Ataqatigiit Citizens List Citizens List Citizens List Citizens List Citizens List

one members, of which six were elected directly from the Disko Bay constituency. Finally, Greenland, as one constituency, elects two members to the Danish parliament. Voting rights as well as Danish citizenship are vested in all adults over eighteen years of age who have stayed in Greenland for more than six months. Saqqaq is one of four settlements within llulissat municipality. For many years each settlement elected one representative to the municipal council, which has thirteen members. General elections usually take place every fourth year, although there was no election between 1983 and 1989. In 1997, only Oqaatsut was not represented in the municipal council. For many years, the delegate from Saqqaq was a woman, Elisabeth Jensen, also a member of the Atassut party. She did not run for election in 1989, when for the first time from Saqqaq a Siumut, Adolf Jensen, a chairman of KNAPK, was nominated. Following the election in 1989, the new mayor of the municipal council was a Siumut woman, Marianne Jensen, who later became Home Rule minister. In the 1993 municipal election, the person elected from Saqqaq later joined a regional electoral list. It is worth noting that the ethnic question has little direct significance in municipal politics (which is not to say that ethnicity is without political significance in Greenland). Not until 1989 was a Dane elected

236 Saqqaq to the Ilulissat municipal council; Danes as a group play no role in politics. To judge from the minutes of the municipal council meetings and the local periodical Iluliarmioq, there have been some issues having an ethnic background. In the town of Ilulissat, there have been long discussions about the use of snowmobiles, which originally seem to have been introduced by ethnic Danes who did not have dog teams. Municipal bylaws limit the use of snowmobiles, and these have given rise to heated debates that under the surface include an ethnic dimension. In the early 1980s, there was a debate on sustainable management of a salmon (char) riverlet. The discussion, which was for or against the use of nets or rods respectively, was primarily between the two parties, the Siumut and the Atassut, which simply took opposing positions in the debate. Rods are basically used only by Danes, and the arguments for claiming that fishing with rods threatened the fish stock more than fishing with nets seemed to be mainly cultural. These discussions have been centred mainly in the town of Ilulissat, which has a substantial Danish minority (1997:11%), and as mentioned later, the ethnic question is even less significant in the political life of a post-Home Rule settlement. An indicator of the argument presented can be taken from the 7 April 1993 edition of the national newspaper Sermitsiaq. This post-election issue lists all elected members to the eighteen municipal councils. Nowhere is it to be seen which elected members are Greenlanders and which are Danes, and there is nothing to indicate that the theme is being consciously or unconsciously concealed. The municipal system has been in force in Greenland for many years, but since 1975, considerable power has been vested there. The council in Ilulissat exerts authority in matters of social welfare, housing, and physical planning, among others; an impressive administrative complex is located in the centre of Ilulissat. Municipal revenues are based on income tax (1994: 27% of income over 46,000 DKR) and block funding and financial forwarding from Home Rule authorities (based on a 1994 nation-wide tax of 15%). The settlement representative in the council is a very important person; she or he forwards proposals of all kinds, and success depends on the representative's ability to create political support in the thirteen-member council dominated by the large town of Ilulissat. I think most people would agree that Saqqaq has done at least as well as, if not better than, the three other settlements in the council. One reason is the already mentioned factor that, for many years, Saqqaq has been considered a unique settlement. Even though dwellers of the town generally look down on people from the settle-

National Policy - Local Setting 237 TABLE 8.2 Number of Saqqaq votes cast in municipal elections, llulissat Year

Atassut Party

fG8£

Elisabeth Jensen: Otto Jensen: Otto Jensen: Mikkel Jensen: P.K. Jensen:1

rese reee

Siumut Party 33 10 21 9 51

Aboltlens9n: Seit. l9ira9n: Abolt len8en: VittU3 lgn39n: Vittue l9ne9n:

TG Y TQ TY er

1 In 1993, P.K. Jensen became member of the municipal council. He was later replaced by Jens Rosbach, who joined an electoral list, but was re-elected on the Citizens List in 1997.

ments, Saqqaq is very often talked about in positive terms. Another reason could be that for many years Saqqaq had in Elisabeth Jensen a very determined representative. Another explanation could be the prominence of party politics. In this respect it might have been significant that for a number of years Elisabeth Jensen was able to rely upon support from the mayor, who, like herself, was an Atassut member or an Atassut supporter. Following this reasoning, it might have been in Saqqaq's favour that the mayor elected in 1989 came from the Siumut party - like the member representing that settlement. On municipal election day, members are also appointed to the threeseat settlement council. Until 1997, the member of the municipal council was automatically a member of the settlement council. Most often, the settlement council has been composed of one member from Siumut and two members or supporters of Atassut. Saqqaq is also part of the national Greenlandic political system, which has gained importance since the introduction of Home Rule. Before 1979, delegates from all over Greenland were elected to seats in the advisory Provincial Council, but with Home Rule, a real parliamentary system has been introduced with an elected parliament and a government. As mentioned above, Saqqaq is part of the Disko Bay constituency, which now has six regular seats in the Greenlandic parliament. Nobody from Saqqaq runs in these elections, which are completely dominated by the llulissat electorate. Before 1979, members of the Provincial Council were individually elected in each of Greenland's sixteen constituencies (mostly equivalent to the municipalities). There were no political parties and thus no collective membership, implying that votes for any losing candidate

238 Saqqaq were lost. Members of the Provincial Council and of the municipalities were elected according to their personal abilities and position; a large and influential family was a favourable background. The frame of reference in the municipal and Provincial Councils, remained the settlement, the town, or the municipality, which meant that they seldom promoted matters of principle and of importance to Greenland as a whole (Dahl 1985). Greenland's new political structure, which in the years after 1975 developed into a European-like political system dominated by political parties, was a product of colonialism. Although the new political structure was far from a mere passive reflection of colonial relations, its raison d'etre was the national economic and social structure created by the colonial power. The most outstanding characteristic of the modernization process in Greenland was the creation of industrial, economic, and administrative relations on a national level. The establishment of Greenland-based political parties was a response to this development, and in that sense it was a product of colonialism. The establishment of political parties based in Greenland was a major step towards confronting colonial policy on a national level. But far from being only passively determined by colonial dominance, the new political structure expressed a great leap forward in political consciousness. At the outset, the political parties acted mainly at the national level because the principal goal was abolishment of colonialism. The majority of the goals promoted by the leading political party, the Siumut, were realized on economic funds transferred from Denmark. Thus, political ambitions and political initiatives were put forward and in the main accomplished without economic checks and balances from within Greenland (Dahl 1983; 1985). At the outset, the raison d'etre of the political parties could not be legitimized by socio-economic groups inside Greenland. But the Siumut party, which within a surprisingly short time evolved into the dominant political group, defined its frame of reference among labourers, hunters, fishermen, and people in small settlements. Nevertheless, the party remained dominated by the educated elite. Although appealing to many of the same groups as the Siumut, the Atassut party naturally gained its principal support among the upper strata of fishermen, artisans, and the like, and traditionally oriented people and families with ideological roots in 'the old colonial days.' The third political party with a lasting impact on the political arena in

National Policy - Local Setting 239 TABLE 8.3 Number of settlement votes in percentages of each political party's total votes in Greenland parliamentary elections, 1979-95 (1995 figures are also in numbers)

Siumut Atassut InuitAt.

1979

1983

1984

1987

1991

1995

29% 19% 9%

26% 16% 12%

24% 15% 12%

23% 15% 13%

25% 18% 14%

23% (2,229) 19% (1,426) 16% (845)

Note: The small municipality of llloqqortormiut is not included in the 1987 figures.

Greenland, the Inuit Ataqatigiit, has gained only minor support in the settlements, although it appeals to the same social groups as the Siumut. Table 8.3 shows the election figures.2 While the Inuit Ataqatigiit was obviously without any influence on local settlement politics during the first decade of Home Rule, a change seems to have occurred in the 1990s. From the figures, it can be seen that the Inuit Ataqatigiit obtain more and more votes in the settlements, and in 1995 llloqqortormiut, as the first of the five single-member outlying constituencies, elected a representative from the Inuit Ataqatigiit. But before that, in 1993, a number of settlements voted representatives from the Inuit Ataqatigiit into the municipal councils. This was the case in Saqqaq's neighbouring settlement Qeqertaq. In total, the relative number of people living in the settlements has decreased from 1979 to 1995, and the significance of the settlements in the elections has decreased. The most outstanding conclusion from the figures is that the Inuit Ataqatigiit party has increased its relative support base in settlements from only 9 per cent in 1979 to 16 per cent of the party's total number of votes in 1995. This trend, however, cannot conceal the fact that only the Atassut and the Siumut have established party branches in most settlements; it was not until the municipal election in 1993 that the Inuit Ataqatigiit could really compete with the two other parties in the settlements. The 16 per cent of settlement votes to Inuit Ataqatigiit in 1995 equalled 845 votes, whereas the larger Atassut obtained 19 per cent of settlement votes equalling 1,426 votes. In elections to the national parliament in Nuuk, the Inuit Ataqatigiit party has steadily increased its number of seats. For years it formed the 2 The data in table 8.3 and the tables that follow are from the statistical yearbooks of the Ministry for Greenland (Ministeriet for Gr0nland) and Statistics Greenland (Gr0nlands Statistik).

240 Saqqaq TABLE 8.4 Percentage of votes given to the political parties in elections to the Home Rule Parliament

Atassut Siumut InuitAtaq. Others

1979

1983

1991

1995

42% 46% 4% 8%

47% 42% 11% 1%

30% 37% 19% 13%

30% 38% 20% 11%

government with the Siumut, but after the 1995 election, the Siumut formed a new government with the Atassut. The political-party system is a product of the decolonization process. It was the demand for national political action that instigated the appearance of political parties; they did not develop from a need to solve local problems. This partly explains the types of opposition between Atassut and Siumut mentioned above. However, this situation does not indicate a lack of legitimacy between political leaders and those whom they represent.3 As a dominating force behind Home Rule, the Siumut gained widespread support among the Greenlandic population. In the long run, the effectiveness and legitimacy of political leaders in handling all kinds of internal as well as external matters depends on their ability to create a functionally equivalent political structure. To create a political structure 'on Greenlandic terms/ that is, to create a functional correspondence between the political and the socio-economic level, the Siumut party had to organize its supporters on a 'mass' basis. And indeed the Siumut and later the Atassut did succeed, to the extent that local branches were organized in all towns and in a majority of settlements. In Saqqaq, the Siumut party was first on the scene with a branch in early 1979, and established before municipal and parliament election in spring. A large number of people joined the Siumut; no exact figure is available from the day of founding the branch, but in early 1981, the Siumut had thirty-three registered members. Early in 1983, the Atassut established an organized branch in Saqqaq, recruiting forty members at the founding meeting. These figures should be compared with a total of sixty-nine people over eighteen years and seventy-eight people over sixteen years (1 January 1981). This affiliation of a large number of 3 From the Cree Indians in Canada, a parallel case has been described in Feit 1983.

National Policy - Local Setting 241 TABLE 8.5 Percentages of Saqqaq votes cast for political parties in elections to the Home Rule Parliament compared with percentages for all of Greenland (in parentheses) Atassut 1979 1983 1984 1987 1991 1995

42% 60% 54% 57% 40% 31%

(42%) (47%) (44%) (40%) (30%) (30%)

Siumut 50% 37% 43% 41% 55% 37%

(46%) (42%) (44%) (40%) (37%) (38%)

InuitAt.

Others

0% (4%) 3% (11%) 2% (12%) 2% (15%) 3% (19%) 8% (20%)

8% (8%) 0% (1%) (-) 0% (0%) 0%(13%) 18% (11%)

people of both political parties presents a picture of the situation in Greenland in general rather than a unique picture in settlements specifically. Although the left-wing Inuit Ataqatigiit emerged in the 1980s as an important political force in the Parliament in Nuuk, until recently settlement politics have been monopolized by the Siumut and Atassut. This also holds true in Saqqaq. Most settlements and many towns have been split into two politically opposed sections. You are either a Siumut or an Atassut supporter, or as a leading Siumut politician once put it pointedly, 'You are either for or against the Siumut/ a statement no less true today than when the Siumut party was established in the mid1970s. Table 8.5 exhibits the percentages of votes for the political parties by Saqqarmiut in Home Rule parliamentary elections compared to the total number of votes given to these parties at the same elections in Greenland as a whole. Table 8.5 shows that Saqqarmiut vote more or less as do Greenlanders as a whole, considering that the number of cast votes ranges from 57 to 97 in the period under investigation. The national political discussion has penetrated into the settlement, and the party political system has been adopted even in a settlement like Saqqaq. This is confirmed when we look at results of elections to the Danish Parliament, as presented in table 8.6. Since 1953, Greenland has elected two members to the Danish Parliament. In 1994, the Siumut and the Inuit Ataqatigiit agreed on running together for the election. It should also be noted that 1987 is peculiar in that voter participation was low. The figures from Saqqaq in tables 8.5 and 8.6 should not be given

242 Saqqaq TABLE 8.6 Percentages of Saqqaq votes cast for political parties in elections to the Danish Parliament compared with percentages for all of Greenland (in parentheses)

1979 1981 1984 1987 1994

Atassut

Siumut

Inuit At.

45% (45%) 50% (49%) 55% (44%) 60% (41%) 41% (35%)

55% (44%) 45% (38%) 44% (43%) 1% (14%) 38% (43%) 2% (12%) 58% (58%)

Others 0%(11%) 5% (13%)

-% (3%) 1% (7%)

Note: No reliable figures are available from 1988 and 1990.

too much weight, since a number of factors might have influenced the exact (small) figures. Fine weather draws people away from the community; the low total number of votes cast might disturb the picture. The first two elections (for the Greenlandic and the Danish Parliament) after introduction of Home Rule had a Siumut majority in Saqqaq, but after that and until the 1990s, the Atassut has been the leading party. Again, this might partly be explained by personal factors, like the change from an Atassut majority in municipal elections in 1989 when Elisabeth Jensen left politics and the Siumut gained the municipal seat. A Flexible Social Network Political parties other than the Siumut and the Atassut have never played a significant role in Saqqaq. In a social sense, the settlement was divided in two when the parties were established. This division was exhaustive and included members and non-members of the two main parties. The result was that nobody could stay outside. Everyone knew who was who, and newcomers of undeclared political allegiance would, figuratively, be put into or considered to be supporters of one or the other of these two political sections. The bifurcation of the political sphere reflected people's notion of a world divided into Siumut and Atassut supporters, and this structuring of a new political world was far from merely coincidental. In a process leading up to a binary fission of local-level politics, the establishment of the first section was of prime importance. This step automatically defined who was outside and thus belonged to the other section.

National Policy - Local Setting 243 It might be assumed that a nucleus of these new political party branches consisted of people more or less ideologically committed to either the Siumut or the Atassut. But my argument is that the bifurcational classification of followers into two exhaustive sections was made along non-ideological lines. The first time I became aware of this was at a drinking party in the home of one of the prominent Siumut members, when he suddenly accused me of being a supporter of the Atassut. At first, I did not know what had led him to believe this, but he insisted. After a while he disclosed the reason: one day he had seen me carrying a whole box of beer from the shop (it was during the period of alcohol restriction) and, apparently, I had shared them with people known to be in favour of the Atassut and not with Siumut supporters. Since it was an allegation I could not contradict, how could I deny that I was a supporter of the Atassut? The argument appeared grotesque to me, but eventually I realized the firm logic of it and the roots of bifurcation of political classification in the settlement. Although this non-reconcilable opposition has been softened over the years, it has had a long-lasting impact on politics in Saqqaq as well as all over Greenland, both locally and nationally. To explain how this has developed, we need to look into the origin of party politics in a national Greenlandic setting. The initiation of the political parties as organizational structures was, as already mentioned, defined in relation to a national frame of reference. However, because they expressed two different ideological viewpoints concerning colonial relations, and thus the ethnic identity of all Greenlanders, the political parties had some appeal to everyone. The ethnic question and the future of Greenland as a home for all Greenlanders concerned the hunter in this distant settlement as much as the academic in the capital of Nuuk. In this respect, as in others, the establishment of Home Rule was de facto a farewell to colonialism, and this was felt by everyone, Danes as well as Greenlanders. Therefore, from the early stage of building the new nation, the establishment of new structures and institutions, like the political parties, was the concern of everyone to such an extent that nobody could be left out. The positive side of this was that it was inclusive rather than exclusive, and no person and no social group was marginalized from the outset. The significance of this ideological setting explains, first of all, the large number of affiliates to party branches in Saqqaq as well as in other communities. Second, membership in one party excludes membership in the other (in contrast to the traditional alliance system, which will be

244 Saqqaq explained below). And third, identification with a political party is of utmost importance because it acts as a determining factor for other groupings and alliances. In this respect, political affiliation acquired a prior or superior position compared to other alliances. Although the new political structure has made its mark upon the traditional system of alliance, the choice made by each person is the outcome of individual factors, traditional obligations, and so on. People did realize the contradiction between, on the one hand, the slogan 'we Greenlanders can decide upon our own future/ put forward by the Siumut, and on the other hand, the Atassut emphasis on solidarity and mutual connection between Greenland and Denmark (atassut means 'interdependence'). Nevertheless, other factors, too, have influenced Greenlanders. One social factor that has remained viable in the small Greenlandic settlements since the early days of the colonial era is the non-fixed crisscross system of alliances. Such a system is supposed to be prevalent in band societies, although some observers interpret it as a product of colonialism (discussed in Guemple 1971, 1972). Guemple (1972) has described this as a system favouring flexibility. It is therefore relevant to discuss how this flexible network is a factor in Saqqaq. The nuclear family and the household are important units of production in settlements like Saqqaq, where hunting and small-scale fishing are major economic activities. As shown in chapter 6, those households consisting of at least a mother, father, and one adult son are the most viable units. But because of, among other factors, critical phases in the developmental cycle of the domestic units, alliances founded on other principles have to be available on an ad hoc basis. We have already seen that in open-boat sealing and in hunting of beluga there are obvious benefits from the cooperation of two people, most frequently a father and son. When this is not feasible, the hunter does need the cooperation of a brother, brother-in-law, or friend. Most frequently, friendship or family relationships are available, and these are the preferred types of alliances. Both give ample range of choices. In terms of social distance, there is no limit beyond which a person cannot form an alliance based on bilateral family relationships or friendship. The preferred form of cooperation in a boat is between father and son, but observations over a one-year period showed that those hunters without this possibility are involved in several different alliances based on kinship and friendship. Whatever specific alliance is being evoked, it should always be kept in mind that in the small settlements a person can trace affinal or consanguineal relations to most other people within the community.

National Policy - Local Setting 245 The specific mode of cooperation between hunters in sealing, fishing, or beluga hunting in no way delimits or excludes distribution of meat to other relatives and friends. Nor does cooperation in this activity exclude the development of new alliances later in the year, and vice versa. In a concrete case, a young unmarried man obviously preferred to hunt and fish with one of his brothers. Nevertheless, during several months in the autumn, he maintained a hunting relationship with one of his cousins, who was deficient in all kinds of equipment and lacked the hunting tradition in his own nuclear family. A few months later, during the thaw, the hunter's outboard motor broke down, and from then on he entered into a new relationship with a neighbour's son, sharing his own boat and the neighbour's motor, which was an arrangement of immediate advantage to both parties. At certain times, he went hunting with a younger brother, but the meat exchange obligation to his neighbour remained, because of his borrowing of the motor. Neighbourhood makes up another parameter of alliance, although viewed apart from other relationships, it seems to be of minor importance. As dealt with previously, the spatial organization of drying grounds when ammassat are spread over the rocks in summertime to a certain extent reflects the spatial organization of households. Naturally, in many cases of informal gathering - such as borrowing or extending mutual help - neighbourhood is made active on an ad hoc basis. Many of the voluntary associations in Saqqaq recruit members from a majority of households, but at least until recently, membership in one did not determine or favour membership in other associations. This description of a flexible system of alliance is not to be confused with the fact that Saqqaq, like many other settlements in Greenland, tends to be dominated by one or two families. Quite commonly, the same nuclear family or the same group of brothers gets one member elected to the municipal council; at the same time, it dominates the village council, has a majority of seats in several associations, and so on. Saqqaq presents no exception to this generalization. In this system of alliances, which consists of non-discrete or noncorporate groups with endlessly changing and conflicting loyalties, the political system was, until recently, an integrated part. The election of political leaders and the political viewpoints adopted by those leaders were best characterized as products of a non-fixed structural system of politics. In the days before political parties were introduced, a person was elected by virtue of her or his ability to get on in the political world, and his or her cleverness in manipulating information to and from the community. Opposition between candidates was undoubtedly reaf-

246 Saqqaq firmed now and then at such occasions as public meetings or elections to association boards. However, this opposition was not between ideologies, but between persons who were dependent for support and backing on people towards and among whom several conflicting loyalties were active. Hence no lasting clefts were created. On the contrary, the conflicting alliances maintained a kind of unity, which is so important in small settlements dependent on hunting and small-scale fishing. In their own manner, people reacted against the institutionalization of power, which has always been most conspicuously expressed when a person obtains too much power only suddenly to be repudiated by his followers. There might come a point of crisis when, at a certain stage, the behaviour of that person seems to reveal a disproportion between power and exchange expectations. Such a person is often verbally criticized if not always opposed in a more material sense. There are, however, exceptions to this rule. It was mentioned that settlement managers can be extremely powerful; it is in no way unusual that these 'kings' exert an authoritarian type of leadership without being repudiated by their fellow community members. This institutionally based power contradicts the rules, which were described earlier concerning authority exerted in relation to hunting activities. Inevitably, this sometimes gives rise to conflicts, which are rooted not only in personal controversies but also in cultural discrepancies. The pattern seems to be that in cases where a position is based on non-local relations, that is, relations on which community members have no influence, there is no overt reaction against institutionalization of power as such. This corresponds to what is observed in 'modern' institutions like public political meetings, in contrast to the conflict avoidance of 'traditional' social relations (Langgaard 1986: 305ff; Lynge 1988). In those cases where people react anyway, it is often done in a frustrated or alienated manner, such as under the influence of alcohol or gossiping. But old means like avoidance or non-cooperative behaviour are very inefficient against power that is based on non-local resources. Until recently, power has not been fixed in any material or ideological sense, and the locus of power remained among the people; to quote Pierre Clastres: The chief who tries to act the chief is abandoned (1977: 131). But this is no longer always the case. This was the environment in which political parties were introduced in the late 1970s. The analysis above should not be confused with the fact that growing economic inequality and the creation of bureaucratic positions are proc-

National Policy - Local Setting 247 esses that have been going on for many years and that imply that material power, to an increasing extent, is vested in a few persons. Thus, in an economic sense, the traditional system of alliance is undergoing a change from within the communities, which are slowly erasing their egalitarian economic basis. In addition to this, there are changes brought about by the dominant national political structure. This process towards eroding or changing the traditional network has been more pronounced in Saqqaq in recent years, since a few people have been able to buy small fishing vessels, a fact that definitely changes 'traditional' economic and social relations. Bifurcation of Politics To analyse the role and importance of the new political parties/it is useful to distinguish between changes relating internally to the political sphere and changes within society at large. The former area was dealt with above, where it was described how the political arena in small settlements, and to a lesser extent in the towns of Greenland, tends to be divided into two sections. The political positions adopted by individuals and local branches of the two large political parties, the Siumut and the Atassut, on matters of only local or regional importance are often confusing, given the national ideological commitment purported to be pursued by the respective parties. As a socialist or social democratic party, the Siumut would be expected not to oppose the conservative Atassut in matters where the latter takes a stand in favour of decisions traditionally supported by Siumut, and vice versa. But, in fact, that is what sometimes happens in matters of local and regional interest. There seem to be two obvious explanations to make this understandable. First, the setting of local affairs often favours solutions that comply with 'traditional' values (for instance, locally recognized hunting regulations), and often take place on a family or community level of decision-making. This implies that decisions in matters such as distribution of publicly owned houses, allocation of jobs, social security allowances, do involve these relations in the decision-making. This is to say that political processes take place within an arena where political parties are not intended to operate. Local party branches often have no obvious political solutions to such questions, and therefore, when encircled by an ideological frame of reference, the politicians act in ways that lead to unpredictable results.

248 Saqqaq Second, the ideological distance between the Siumut and Atassut is often negligible, but in cases where a certain viewpoint is held by the one party, the other tends automatically to take the opposite. This has often been observed during negotiations in the parliament in Nuuk, but quite as often this has been the case in local politics in Saqqaq and in other settlements and towns. This is by no means the case in all instances, but for years there has been, and still is today, a tendency to take positions on the basis of political affiliation, where formerly the same matter would have been solved on the basis of a person's ability to recruit followers. A further consequence of this is that initiatives taken by people from one political party are considered by people favouring the other as 'belonging' to that party - and therefore opposed. In Saqqaq and in other small communities, the new political dichotomy has been at variance with initiatives demanding communitywide support. This has happened when a small group of people have tried to organize a production co-op, for instance, or a non-political association (electricity supply association, television association, etc.) but was opposed because of their political or supposed political sympathy. In other cases, we have observed and heard that people expect certain services to be given to members of one party only. Sometimes mutual help and non-commercial services are taken as indicative of political affiliation, thus maybe creating a long-lasting and 'unnecessary' barrier between a complainant, who also competes for these resources, and the person deemed and accused of being disloyal because he or she gave help to a third person attached to the opposite political group. The analytical value of these cases is that they represent an important change in the alliance system, thereby constituting a model rather than accounting for all known empirical realities. This leads to the last and, perhaps, the most important point to be made concerning changes in the structuring of social relations as a consequence of the introduction of the new political structure: the polarization of political life into two discrete groups tends to be transferred to other social relations, thus providing a fixed system of alliance instead of a constantly changing network of loyalties. This is illustrated by figure 8.1. In a bilateral system of kinship like the one prevailing in Greenland, alliance groups often consist of a core person and a core group, many of whom belong to his or her kindred. To this must be added as a general rule that the extent of a person's kin group and potential group of

National Policy - Local Setting 249 Local cooperation dominated by national political parties

Traditional way of cooperation

Political parties

Other types of cooperating froups

Figure 8.1 Cooperation and exchange among various groups in Saqqaq before and after the introduction of the political party system

followers cannot be sharply defined. In the organizing of a political party branch, the same rule prevails, but once established a fixed and corporate group has emerged. This process is in contrast to what has hitherto been the prevailing structure of alliances. In cases where initiatives are taken by one of the party branches, it is often known beforehand who their supporters will be, and in cases of conflict between two alternative initiatives, the traditional way of creating backing groups (this would be a case that falls under Meillassoux's [1973] concept 'instantaneous' relations) seems more and more to be replaced by the fixed party groups. Thus, the political way of organizing fixed party branches has acquired a dominant position compared to the other modes of alliances. Political parties are now used as a frame of reference in cases where formerly other kinds of criteria - often mutually conflicting - were invoked. We have thus observed cases where people have been excluded from group hunting, because they were members of, or were supposed to belong to, the 'wrong' party.

250 Saqqaq As mentioned above, in matters of local and regional relevance, the political standpoints taken by the Siumut and Atassut are often nonideological, and it is to be expected that many people change political affiliation owing to non-ideological factors. I have only scant information on this matter, but that which is available seems to indicate that membership in political party branches is surprisingly stable over time. From Saqqaq, there are a few cases where family conflicts have made a person change membership (or supposed affiliation) to the other party. What is of specific relevance in this context is that although people change their affiliation, political loyalty is transferred to other spheres of interaction. This means a breakdown of the traditional criss-cross network of alliances and a giving way to a bifurcated system of opposed community relations. Such an order might work in a world of political parties, but in a setting where the system rests on community consensus (as in community-wide types of hunting activities), a kind of crisis will occur if political affiliations, or supposed political loyalties, take a dominant position, thus influencing people's behaviour. However, political parties do not make decisions on the basis of communitywide consensus. In a case where the community agrees upon 'the rules of the game' - a precondition to consensus making (Silberbauer 1982) the mere establishment of political parties has a negative impact on consensus making. I assume that people in a settlement like Saqqaq talk more about politics today than they did years ago. However, from a local perspective it is doubtful whether people participate more in politics and political decision-making than they did before the introduction of political parties. If they do not, as I suggest, this is in marked contrast to the role of politics in a national perspective. In this latter arena, the adoption of European-like political parties and the introduction of Home Rule have brought about a tremendous increase in Greenlandic participation in decision-making processes and in issues of self-determination. Two factors should be mentioned to explain this. One factor is that, although the political parties have branches in most communities, they very often exist on paper only. Very often, formalized meetings take place only twice a year: the annual general meeting and a social event to raise money. The local branches are activated at election time, when posters are sent from Nuuk to be hung on buildings. In the event that politicians arrive from outside, a meeting might also be arranged. It is, thus, interesting to note the marked

National Policy - Local Setting 251 contrast between the lack of substance and the lack of activity exerted by the political parties seen as social and political facts, compared to the significant influence the political parties as symbolic representations have on general social life. Since 1979, substantial power has been vested in the Home Rule administration in Nuuk, including The Trade with its multifunctional activities, the investment strategies, housing policy, etc. With very few exceptions, the whole Greenlandic fishing fleet, from the smallest fishing vessels to the largest ocean-going trawlers, has been built by Home Rule-owned Royal Greenland or with loans from Home Rule departments. In this respect, Home Rule authorities have continued a policy established under Danish colonial rule. This policy of central planning has many positive aspects and represents part of the explanation why Greenland can exhibit a comparatively successful process of decolonization despite the planning failures that have occurred. In recent years, there has been a significant change towards making the many Home Rule-owned companies independent ventures. This move has been generally commended, but the settlements still rely on The Trade (now under the name of KNI-Pisiffik, KNI-Pilersuisoq, and Royal Greenland) in most of their dealings with the outside world. Home Rule or self-government as such is not the subject of this book (see Dahl 1986), but a foremost intention has been to examine the types of relations that exist between the national/international level and a local community in a specific Greenlandic setting. In relation to this, I have tried to portray the nature of the national integration of settlement life subsequent to the establishment of political parties and the formation of Greenland as a self-governing nation. A process of modernization has now penetrated Greenland and all Greenlandic communities since 1979. At the level of national political decision-making, one effect that can be observed is a direct, positive correlation between self-determination and the speed of modernization, primarily as it relates to development projects. Politicians are no longer opposed to mineral exploitation as they were in the pre-Home Rule years; the future existence of settlements is no longer a non-issue. These themes can be discussed, but in terms different from those that characterized the pre-1979 era. What then was seen as a destructive policy and a threat to the Greenlandic culture is now considered development and a precondition to the promotion of a self-governing Greenlandic nation.

252 Saqqaq To conclude this chapter I emphasize that the establishment of political parties and a substantial number of national institutions in Nuuk has paved the way for group structures to proliferate at the expense of the traditional open-ended network structure so characteristic specifically of small Greenlandic communities.

9

Community and Nation

The impact of the rise of a Greenlandic nation from 250 years of colonial dominance has been tremendous. In very condensed terms, the most recent (since 1979) process of nation building has implied a development or evolution of the hunting mode of production rather than a destruction of a 'natural economy' (Bradby 1975), to use a phrase from an important debate two decades ago. The fact is that never has the decentralized economy of Greenland settlement received so much financial support as it has under Home Rule, and never has the economy and the political setting changed so rapidly. In this sense, an analysis of a community economy in a post-colonial setting needs to take into consideration the development policy of the new nation and the cultural identity on which it is based. The Greenlandic affix -mioq (sing.), -mint (pi), means 'inhabitants of or 'person from' a specific community or geographical setting. We know that the Saqqarmiut are the people of Saqqaq. An Iluliarmioq is a person from Ilulissat. A person who has moved from Saqqaq to Ilulissat might, however, continue to consider himself or herself a Saqqarmioq. In this sense, the affix is being used as 'belonging to' or 'being born in.' When the anthropologist asks questions about kinship and kinship relations, the informant might say about another person that he was born in Saqqaq, he is a Saqqarmioq. But his wife, the informant continues, is an Uummannarmioq, that is, coming from the town of Uummannaq or from that district, even though she might have lived in Saqqaq for decades. On the other hand, if you yourself meet this same woman on the street in Ilulissat and ask her if she is an Uummannarmioq, she will definitely deny it and say that she is a Saqqarmioq. There is nothing unusual about using geographical affiliation in a

254 Saqqaq relative sense. Thus, the same woman will be a Greenlander, Kalaaleq, if you meet her in Denmark. The connotations associated with these relational identities vary from one culture to another. The -mioq/-miut affix designates a positive and non-antagonistic affiliation. To be a Saqqarmioq does not say anything about who the non-Saqqarmiut are. The -mioq affix is not like an ethnic conception. When used by a person, it is a relative delineation without any reference to a separate culture or separate tradition. The -mioq does not confer any metaphor by which to indicate a closed corporate community with fixed group boundary towards other communities. However, this does not mean that there are no traditions and customs associated with being a Saqqarmioq, for example. Certainly there are, as preceding chapters should have made clear. Nevertheless, for many years, but specifically since 1979, there has been a gradual change of identity all over Greenland that affects the community-based social and territorial control at the same time as it opens the door for the creation of a new legitimacy reflecting the formation and advancement of the Greenlandic nation. It is my hypothesis that the creation of a new national Greenlandic identity has diminished both the significance of the local identities (-mioq) and the identity of being an ethnic Greenlander. Establishing Greenland as a self-governing nation has given the national identification prominence at the expense of the local as well as the ethnic affiliation. This is reflected in people's notion of the political agenda, in which ethnic questions have been incorporated in a new Greenlandic world that includes Danes as well as ethnic Greenlanders. Statistics reveal that while in 1975 close to 20 per cent of the population were ethnic Danes, this number has fallen to less than 13 per cent today.1 This fact partly explains the changes in ethnic relations. The trend is now to employ more and more Greenlanders to do even the seasonal jobs. This has been noticeable throughout the 1980s and 1990s. The Home Rule government and the local authorities have pushed for the employment of Greenlanders, and the outcome is evident. But there is also another factor, a psychological one, which calls for a new interpretation of the relationship between Greenlanders and Danes and between local and national Greenlandic institutions. Danish profes1 The statistics distinguish between persons born in Greenland and persons born in Denmark. This gives an inaccuracy in the figure of the number of ethnic Danes in Greenland, but the overall picture does not deviate significantly.

Community and Nation 255 sionals or non-professionals are no longer expatriates who were 'sent' to Greenland by Danish authorities, but are recruited, 'called/ by a local institution or company to do a job that is defined locally. This reflects the fact that control has moved from Denmark to Greenland, and it adds to the feeling of self-esteem. Although Nuuk, and sometimes even Ilulissat, might seem to be as far away as Copenhagen, institutions based in Greenland are considered to be the people's own. It might even be that the local population has less influence on decisions affecting their own future now than before Home Rule, but an ethnic Dane who comes to Saqqaq to work is no longer seen and treated as a representative of the colonial complex. Thus, from an ethnic point of view, the introduction of Home Rule carried far-reaching changes in its wake. Now, eighteen years after the abolition of colonial rule, there is no congruence between the ethnic person and the ethnic institution. Frustrations can no longer be concealed behind the ethnic curtain Tt is just those Danes' or Tt is again this ruling from Denmark,' simply because the economic control and administrative dominance are no longer in the hands of Danish institutions employing ethnic Danes. Although the institutional changes had an impact upon ethnic relationships between Danes and Greenlanders, not all colonial links (nor all ethnic tensions) have vanished. Within the most recent years, young Greenlanders have come forward in public and demanded full independence from Denmark. It is interesting to note that these statements are not only directed against vestiges of colonial rules and traditions (Danes occupying positions while qualified Greenlanders are without jobs). They seem, first of all, to epitomize a view of Home Rule institutions as having adopted the same policy as always due to dependency on Denmark. Thus, behind the curtain of demand for independence, we could see a hidden critique of Home Rule institutions or the way that political parties have exercised acquired control over former colonial institutions. This interpretation may be further substantiated by the reaction of the political parties to such demands. Surprisingly, members of the pro-Danish Atassut party have recently aired viewpoints along the same line as the young Greenlanders, while the party in power, Siumut, which has always been more radical in this respect, has taken a much more conservative attitude. This difference is less surprising if we keep in mind that Greenland has been ruled by Siumut ever since 1979. In the Greenlandic media, there is a lot of debate and critique of the

256 Saqqaq structural policy carried out by Home Rule. Much of this critique has centered around the policy and role of Royal Greenland and the other Home Rule institutions erected from the colonial Royal Greenland Trade Department. Since the mid-1990s when Greenland, like so many other former colonial territories, initiated a structural reform policy, there has been little debate about this as something that was forced upon Greenland from outside, and the discussion has mainly been phrased in terms that are most accurately designated as modern, if not in terms of local versus national/commercial interests. A process of modernization and internalization has penetrated Greenland and all Greenlandic communities since 1979. Factors seen as being associated with Danish dominance (and therefore opposed) in the preHome Rule years are now considered as essential elements in the quest for self-determination and self-government. Home Rule has adapted to this new situation, and the Greenlandic politicians are no longer opposed to mineral exploitation as they were in the pre-Home Rule years. People look upon this change as a sign of Greenlandization. Similarly, the future existence of each and every settlement is no longer a nonissue. These themes can be discussed, but in terms completely different from those that characterized the pre-1979 era. What was then seen as a destructive policy and a threat to the Greenlandic culture is now considered development and a condition for promoting a self-governing Greenlandic nation. Most remarkable was a decision made by the Home Rule parliament in autumn 1998, when it adopted a proposal to make Greenland into one constituency in future parliament elections. The decision, first of all, means that five small remote constituencies in East Greenland and North Greenland will be merged with the rest of the country, with the result that these are no longer guaranteed representation. It is worth noting that members from the remote constituencies were in support of the proposal. The hunters of Saqqaq are proud of being considered the caretakers of the cultural heritage, but if anyone did, it was they, as well as the political elite, who adopted the notion of a modern Greenlandic nation. It might be, as suggested by some authors (H. Thomsen 1996; S0rensen 1994; 1995), that while the hunting communities were in focus in the promotion of a 'Greenland on Greenlandic conditions/ the focus of modernization has moved in different directions. It was with such a process of incorporation and its attending symbolic construction of a new nation in mind that Anderson (1991) devel-

Community and Nation 257 oped the concept of 'imagined communities/ This took place in order to highlight the historical and cultural roots of modern nations, in which ethnic identities have been incorporated under the hegemony of a national identity that does not leave much political room for inequalities and cultural variations. The new Greenlandic nation is an imagined community 'because the members ... will never know most of their fellow-members, meet them, or even hear of them, yet in the minds of each lives the image of their communion' (Anderson 1991: 6). The imagined community was invented by those who promoted nationalism and sovereignty by claiming communalism and (symbolic) equality among people who otherwise had very little in common. Claimed as the common heritage of all Greenlanders were the traditional Greenlandic culture as still being practised by the hunters in the settlements, the 'specific Greenlandic conditions/ and the 'Greenlandic' language (the Central West Greenlandic dialect as developed into the vernacular). The imagined community is the quintessence of the invention and reconstruction of the traditions and the historical culture as transformed into symbols of the Greenlandic nation. The emergence of the national and imagined community goes hand in hand with an encroachment upon the small 'traditional' communities as being corporate and social entities. The imagined community develops traditions of its own, which are being used for its own purposes without the involvement of the local communities or the knowledge and traditions - which nevertheless were the founding symbols of the imaginative communalism. In a way, it is simply a consequence of the industrialization of the fishery and an expression of the development in the division of labour. One could also say that the new nation is 'imaginary' in the sense it is used by Benedict Anderson, and that this community has created an imagined territory, where the people do not know the customs associated with the territories of communities, and where they do not know the people and have no linkages to the local social network. The imagined community, in this case the Greenlandic nation, asserts equalness to all its inhabitants, including equal access to its territory, but in practice this equality is highly unequal. It should be stressed that whenever we deal with traditions and customs, these are asserted with reference to various levels, from the local community to the national Greenlandic level. In the customary beluga-hunting complex, as it developed when boats with outboard motors and high-powered rifles were introduced, the level to which the

258 Saqqaq customary practice referred was the community. That is no longer the case when beluga are pursued and harvested by trawlers and fishing vessels. These boats have prompted the development of new customs that are deemed legitimate or non-legitimate by the national Greenlandic authorities, and they no longer refer to the legitimate concern of their home community, or to the local administrative units, which have lost much jurisdiction to the newly established national Home Rule institutions in Nuuk. These boats usually follow rules and management regimes given as written instructions from above, rather than abiding by customary and oral rules and rights developed in a local community. These large fishing boats operate out of the major towns of West Greenland. They may fish anywhere within Greenland's economic zone, and the concept of a community-based territory is irrelevant to them. In principle, Greenland's national water area is their area of operation. So, when they hunt beluga, they, so to speak, transfer their customary fishing rights onto their beluga hunting practices. The activities of these boats are not community-based, as are other forms of beluga hunting. Customary rules and procedures, as they have developed and are being practised in a local community like Saqqaq, are not necessarily more legitimate than management regimes instigated by Home Rule authorities. The emergence of Greenland as a national society is seen by most Greenlanders as a legitimate development, and the laws, rules, and ordinances issued by the central authorities in Nuuk are generally supported by people along the coast. The outcome, however, can be conflicts among levels of customs, customary knowledge, and management procedures. Such conflicts do not necessarily indicate that procedures belonging to one level are more legitimate than those of another level. The beluga controversy, dealt with in chapter 2, indicates that rules and customs developing at the level of the national community gradually take over from those of the local communities. Management decisions taken by Home Rule might be considered quite as legitimate as those customary rules and management practices that have developed in small communities. This will be reflected in the development of new customs and new knowledge regimes, which gradually will replace other customs and knowledge regimes. What is happening during these years, however, is that these regimes exist on different levels and that the dominating ones do not rest with any developed social control. It is obvious that some of the management procedures adopted by Home Rule authorities to regulate hunting and fishing are in conflict

Community and Nation 259 with local customs as they have developed in small hunting communities. Behind this is a development away from a situation where everyone has a right to hunt and fish as a member of a local community to a new situation where rights are allocated to individuals as members of a social group (full-time hunters and fishermen, owners of fishing vessels) within the frame of a modern nation. One of my main arguments, however, has been that the real conflict is about control, and refers to the disintegration of community-based territories. This situation was made clear with the introduction of fishing vessels and trawlers that range farther than what has been considered to be the 'traditional' territory of a community. As far back in history as we have knowledge, each community in Greenland had its own, unbounded, and non-exclusive hunting territory within which it exerted some kind of social control. This is changing - a process given momentum with the introduction of Home Rule. Out of a territory within which the hunters could orient themselves and relate to others from neighbouring communities in a social space, and within which everyone who hunted had unspecified customary rights and obligations, a new national territory has been formed, within which some groups have preferential rights. The territory of a Greenlandic community has never been the same as the administrative units introduced over time by the colonial authorities and the Home Rule administration. The latter units can be drawn on a map and are thus fixed. That has never been the case with hunting territories, although de facto these have been related to the geographical location of communities - as they are defined by the authorities. What happens nowadays is that Home Rule as an administrative and political domain removes control from the communities to other nonterritorial-based levels and establishes an administrative and geographically defined hunting territory (Greenland) without its being based on social control, customary knowledge, or traditions. This being said, it should also be stressed that the introduction of Home Rule implied self-determination on a social level, which did not exist only a generation ago. It remains to be seen what kind of customs will develop within this new 'community' and how a new kind of legitimacy corresponding to this level will develop. We might see what could be interpreted as a hierarchy or as 'levels of legitimacy.' From each community being surrounded by a territory where people oriented themselves in time and space, the national territory is an area where certain people or groups of people have specified (and exclusive)

260 Saqqaq rights. These are different from the rights of others, who may have no rights to the territory at all. This seems to follow from the establishment of the Greenlandic nation. Within the 'imagined territory/ the authorities assert equality for all Greenlanders. In practice, this conceals unequal access to resources that have always been considered to belong to everyone. The creation of a new legitimacy and a new community, based on the establishment of a Greenlandic nation, may contain the roots for the most profound changes in what I have called the hunting mode of production.

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Index

Aaffaarsuaq 161,162-3 accidents 54 activity charts 224-6 affluent society 152-6 Agrawal, A. 229 Alavi, H. 20 alcohol: drinking 50-3,116,136, 246; home brewing 51; restrictions 50-3, 57 alliances 67,121,182-5, 200-3, 230-1, 243-7, 248-50 ammassat. See capelin Anderson, B. 8, 22, 256-7 Appat. See Ritenbenk. appropriation 21,157,172, 212, 223, 224 Arctic char 171, 236 Arnat Peqatigiit 233 associations 44,192, 231-4, 245 Ataa 35-6,159,161 Atanikerluk 69,131,132,161 Atuagagdliutit 46

labour 71; fishing vessels 83-4, 98-100,106-7; flensing 70-2, 82^; Home Rule regulations 75,103^4; hunting from land 89,97; hunting parties 75-81, 82-3; leadership 72, 74, 78, 85, 90-2; net hunting 74-5; participation 75-6, 78-80; sharing 71-3, 80, 81-92,178 beluga migration 68,100 bird hunting 48,136-7 birthdays 51, 56-7 block grants 20 blubber 32, 87,168,186-7 Blue Cross 52 boarding school 29 Boas, F. 209 Born, E.W. 106 Bourdieu, P. 226 Buijs, Cunera 88 Burch, Ernest 177,182 Burial Club 233 by-laws 98-100,170-1

basic resources 153 bearded seals 140,144,178,180,184 beluga hunting 66-107; communal hunting 68-81, 98; division of

capelin (ammassat) 16, 30, 60,104, 110-24; drying 112-17,170; drying grounds 113,117-21,163; economy 116-17,121-4,195-6;

272 Index fishing 112-17,158, 203^, 206; history 112-13; spawning 111 capitalist mode of production 209 caribou: hunting 160-8; hunting areas 160-8; regulations 164,191, 193^; sharing 167 Cashdan, Elizabeth 172 Caulfield, Richard 71, 76 Christmas 45-7 church 9, 63-4 Clastres, P. 246 climatic conditions 43^4, 48-50, 228-9 coal mining 168-9, 219 cod 13,170 colonialism 12-15, 238, 243,244; benign paternalism 13; institutions 56-8 the common 159,167-8 communal councils 159,170-1 communal relations 66-8, 88, 96-7, 118-19, 210; inter-communal relations 160 communal rights 157,164-7,173 community: Greenlandic 21-3; imagined 22-3, 257; national 173,175, 257-9 Community Hall Association 231-2 control 137, 211-12, 222, 229, 254-5, 258-9 Co-op 231, 232 cooperation 183, 202-3, 244-5 customs 97-100,157,171,173,176, 258; levels of 258 Dalager, C.C. 32, 33 Damas, D. 182 decolonization 15-18,19, 231, 240, 251 Dege, W. 118,120

demography 40,197-8 district councils 6,16,158; Ritenbenk 16, 36,45 dogs 29, 48-9,152,190-1, 220 dog sledge 48,152,166-7,169,190, 236 Dorf, Johannes 32 education 199, 207; boarding school 29; school 57, 59-60,197 egalitarianism 89,134,176, 207, 247 Egede, Hans 31, 32 Egede, Niels 33 eider ducks 117,136 elections: Danish parliament 235, 241-2; Home Rule parliament 17, 234, 237, 240-2; municipal 17, 234-7 electricity 231-2 Electricity Association 231-2 environmental determinism 209-10, 225 ethnic relations 18, 28, 235-6, 243, 254-5 exchange 174-85, 212; borrowing 181; generalized 178,179,180,181, 184-5; information 174-5, 177; meat gifts 94, 96-7,134-5,175, 177-81, 219, 245; rules of 11, 52, 160,171 Fabricius, C. 33 family rights 166,171-3 Fencker, Hannibal 29, 36-7, 96, 97 fieldwork 3-5, 37-9, 57, 72-3, 82, 131-2, 243 'first events' 56, 92 fishing 10; commercial 129; industrialized 9, 29,41,129,184 fishing vessels 106-7,127-9,183,193, 202

Index 273 flag 8, 9, 57 foraging mode of production 97 Forchhammer, S0ren 138 forstanderskaberne. See district councils Freeman, M.M.R. 14, 215 gender relations 176,178; division of labour 67,112-13,130,154-5, 166-7,185-90,199-200, 206-7, 213, 226-7 generosity 92 Geraae, Jens Andersen 145 globalization 98 Greenland cod 129-30 Greenland halibut 10,124-9,138,170, 202, 227 Greenlandic conditions 7,18 GTO (Technical Organization) 62-3 Guemple, L. 200, 244 Hansen, K.G. 55, 79 harp seals 111, 131,140,151,155, 218-19, 221 harvesting strategy 138,140,152-5, 170, 192, 210, 224 health 54-5, 64-5, 203; epidemics 54 Henningsen, Johan 93 Henrikson, G. 206 history, colonial 12-15 Hobsbawm, Eric 8,176 Home Rule: agreement 18-19; commission 19-20; development policy 253; establishment 17; institutions 165,251; intervention 138; laws, instructions, ordinances 22, 75, 98-100,103^, 107-8; 166,193, 258; system 19-20 hooded seals 144,151 household: childrens' work 190,

194-5; composition 58,196-206; developmental cycle 40-1,118-19, 194,196-7,199-200, 203-5; economic strategies 194, 203; economy 104-6,194, 201, 211; housework 189; ittoq 53,199; unit of production 155,186-90, 200, 205-6, 244-5; viability 196, 201-3 housing 62-3, 201 Hovelsrud-Broda, Crete K. 144 hunger 125-6 hunter: fulfilling the role 136,187-8, 199-200; full-time 75-6,165,173, 191,193, 259; part-time 75,192-3; prestige 189, 207,212; as provider 134,136,174,186, 206-7, 212-13 Hunters' and Fishermen's Organization (KNAPK) 73, 75, 78,101,171, 233-4 hunters' huts 159,169 hunting: certificates 97-100,108,191, 192-3; flexibility 10,170-3, 208, 211, 213; leader 78, 85, 90-2; mode of living 125; mode of production 10,125,128-9,156,188,197, 207, 208-29; 260; regulations 98-100, 173; territorial rights 12,100; territories 100,127,161-8; way of life 6-7,126,176,199, 205, 207 ice foot 111, 144 identity 43, 207, 213; national 253-4 ideology 7 Iglulimiut 182 Ikerasak 25,49,163,164 Illuluarsuit 111, 114 Iluliarmioq 42, 236 Ilulissat 25,49; municipality 98 independence 255 information sharing 67-8

274

Index

Ingold, Tim 172 INI (Inatsisartut Inissiaatileqatigiiffik) 62-3 Innaarsuit 138 instantaneous life 54-5,170, 213, 249 International Whaling Commission 108 Jensen, Adolf 235 Jensen, Elisabeth 235,237, 242 Jensen, Markus 37 Jensen, Marianne 235 Jensen, P.K. 237 Jensen, Pavia 35-6,159,161 Jensen, S0ren 33 jigging 127, 129-30 kalaallisuut 56,189 Kalland, A. 229 kayaks: hunting from 73, 78-9, 88, 92-3,137; kayak sickness 55; sharing of the hunt 93-7; skin coverings 188; travelling 34, 55, 203 KGH. See Trade, The kinship 13, 38, 55, 76,180-1, 244-5, 248-9 kittiwakes 114, 116 Kleinschmidt, Samuel 46 Kleivan, H. 179, 227 KNAPK. See Hunters' and Fishermen's Organization. KNI. See Trade, The knowledge regimes 258 Kristiansen, Aron 93 labour, investment of 152-5 labour union (S.I.K.) 234 land claims 20 Lange, Jens 34-5 Lange, Johan 35

Lange, Jorgen 35 Langgaard, Per 192 language 8-9, 26-8, 41-2, 45-6 Leacock, E. 209 leadership: authoritarian 14-15, 33-7, 246-7; institutionalized 92; traditional 15, 35, 57-8, 90-2,101-2, 108 Lee, Richard 97,175,177, 209 long-lining 126-7 Mannik 161,169 marketing 152-5,185, 215-16; capelin 115,119,121-4; Greenland halibut 126-9; seal meat 178,179-80; whale meat and mattak 87,101,104-6 marriage 201, 202 mattak 82-7,183-4 Mauss, Marcel 43, 209, 223 means of production 10,12, 92,137, 177, 185 media: newspapers 42-3, 46, 236; Radio Greenland 41-2 midwife 191 migration 18, 39-41, 124,197-8, 203-6; see also seasonal migration Mikaelsen, J. 45 minke whale 76,107-8,117,191, 227 mitaartut 9,47 modernization 7-9, 256-7 M0rch, Tittus 79 Motzfeldt, Jonathan 193 Muller-Wille, Ludger 138 municipal council 37, 234-7, 245 mussels 130 Myers, F.R. 206 naanngisat 31 naming 55 narwhals 68

Index 275 nation, Greenlandic 9,17-18,19, 253-1, 257 national arena 231, 232 national institutions 191, 238, 243 national policy 232 nature, as subject of labour 224 Nernartuut 166-7 Netsilik 182 Niaqornat 75, 163 ningeq 94-6,177, 181-5 Nuna-Tek 62 Nuttall, M. 96 Nuusaq (settlement) 163 Nuussuaq (peninsula) 24,114,160-9 Nuussuaq (settlement) 159-60

property 187-8 Provincial Councils 13,104,164, 170-1, 237-8 ptarmigan 48,136

Oldendow, K. 220 optimal harvesting 209 Ostermann, Mother 6,14, 33 ownership rights 169

Ranger, Terence 8 red gammarus 129,146 Reeves, Randal 106 relations of production 12-13, 66-7, 130, 177,182-5, 201, 209 relative autonomy 209 religion and mission 12, 31, 33, 45-6, 63-4, 68 relocation 18, 168 repartition 16, 45 reproduction 106,126,132, 193, 215, 222 residence patterns 199-203 resources: access to 176; management 172-3 Riches, D. 200 ringed seal 133,151,154-5, 218-19, 221, 229 Ritenbenk (Appat) 32^, 114,150, 170 Rosbach, Jens 237 Rosendahl, Philip 71 Rosenkrantz, Alfred 162-3,166 Royal Greenland 232

Paine, R. 14 partnerships 205-6 Petersen, Robert 94, 97,157,177,182, 184,185 Pjetturson, Gudbrandur 33-4 politics 11; Atassut party 230, 235, 236-7, 238, 247-50; binary opposition 242-3, 247-51; Citizens List 235; constituencies 234, 237-8, 256; Inuit Ataqatigiit party 239; organizational structures 243, 250-1; parties 17-18, 175,192, 230-1, 234-52, 255; party membership 121, 239-41, 243, 248-9; prestige 136-7,178-9; Siumut party 230, 234, 236, 238, 247-50; symbolic representation 251 Price, J.A. 178 process of production 184,186-90

Qajaasat 111 Qallu 35,126 Qeqertaq 6, 49,114,125,151,158,164, 170, 239 Qeqertarsuaq 71,101; communal council 102 Qilerserfik 114,117 Qullissat 17, 26,131,161, 219; coal mining 168,169; communal council 102

276 Index Royal Greenlandic Trade Department. See Trade, The Saabye, Hans Egede 96 Sahlins, Marshall 66,118,119,152, 180 salaried employment 10, 62,116-17, 127-9,130,138,152,186,190-6, 200; types of jobs 191-2 Saputit 31,114,126,161-2 Saqqaq: colonial history 31-7; communal council 16,104,105, 158-9; demography 26-9; geography 24-5; prehistory 30-1 Saqqaq valley 24, 54, 164,169 sassat 49, 68,101-5,170-1 seagulls 111, 116 sealing: breathing hole 150; by dog sledge 146-54; economy 132-5, 152-5, 194, 218-22; flensing 132; by foot 145-8; with ice-nets 144-50, 203; maanncq 150-1; with nets 9, 33, 48,125,132,170; from open boat 131-2,135-7, 139-40; with openwater nets 139-40; rules and regulations 148-9; subsistence 218-19; at thin ice 150; uuttoq hunting 150-4,158,170; way of life 188-90 seal meat 135,136, 219-22 sealskins: garments 189, 218; marketing 134-5,138-9,140-4,154-5, 188-90, 218-19, 220-1; processing 122,134,138,140,154-5,186-9 seasonal migration 114,160-3,192 seasonal cycle 223-8 seasonal variations 12, 31, 43-50,110, 157, 227 self-determination 251, 256, 259 Sermitsiaq 42, 236 Service, Elman 200

settlement council 17, 234, 245 settlement managers 33-7 sharing: definition 175-8; types 181-5 shopping 174-5 S.I.K. 234 Smith, Eric Alden 77 snowmobiles 236 soccer 47,49, 230-1 social control 21,158-9,168,173 social relations 117,120-1,148-9, 223, 227; flexibility 244-7; friendship 120,121,132,184; management of 178-80; neighbourhood 121, 245; partners 132; socialization 152, 176, 190, 196-7 social space 120,172 Sports Club 233 state: Greenlandic 20; overdeveloped 20 strategic activities 104-5,119, 121-2, 216-17, 224 subsistence 40,48,104,129-30,134-8, 152-5, 169, 180, 186, 193, 214-23 survival 209 sustainability 213-14 symbolic capital 14-15 Tanner, A. 209-10 Tartunaq 45, 111, 114, 126,132,159 tax 188,193, 236 Technical Organization 62-3 television 60 Temperance Society 48-9, 52, 230, 233 tenural rights 171-2 territory 10,12; control of 20-2, 118-19,172; imagined 257, 260; national 259-60; rights to 148-9, 157-60, 163-73, 212 Thomassen, Markus 45

Index 277 Tobiassen, Samuel 45 Torsukattak 25, 111, 125,127,151, 158,170 tourism 29 Trade, The 11-15, 32-4, 60-2; managers 14-15,144-5, 232; supplies 150 traditional; authority 232, 234; community 65; institutions 176, 205, 215; Greenlandic society 5-9, 22, 28; knowledge 51, 58, 214, 228-9; social relations 39,159-60, 247 traditions 5-9,150, 212, 257; invented 171-2 travelling 48-9 Ujaqqiukkat 111-12, 115 Ujarasussuk 6, 33,126,169; communal council 102,104,105 ulo 186,187

unemployment 207 Upernavik 74-5, 98,135,138 urbanization. See migration use rights 98,118-20,148,158, 212 Usher, Peter 210,218 uukkat. See Greenland cod Uummannaq 25,98,144 Vaigat158-9,160 voluntary associations 44,192, 231^4, 245

wage work. See salaried employment Wenzel, George 94,182, 218 wolf fish 69,126-7 women's association 233 Woodburn, J. 148 world market 12,13,126, 210, 214, 222