A SIMPLE PHILOSOPHY

Seathl

About the Author and Text:

In 1854, Seathl, the chief of the Native American Suquamish tribe of the State of Washington,
addressed the letter reproduced below to President Franklin Pierce of the United States. The
pioneering white people were taking over more and more of the North American continent from the
Native Indian tribes as they progressed westward. This letter expresses the 'simple philosophy' of
Chief Seathl's people. It also describes the decline and resignation of the Native American people
(earlier known as 'Red Indians'), and indirectly warns the white people of the future environmental
and social consequences of human recklessness.
These days we speak of living with nature and the need to maintain an environmental balance
almost as though these were new ideas. The truth is that many aboriginal cultures have always lived
in harmony with nature, while their more 'civilised' and 'developed' counterparts have destroyed
the earth in attempting to mine its wealth. Nothing illustrates this fact better than this letter.

A Simple Philosophy

The Great Chief in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land. The Great
Chief also sends us words of friendship and good will. This is kind of him, since we know
that he has little need of our friendship in return. But we will consider your offer, for we
know if we do not do so, the white man may come with guns and take our land. What Chief
Seathl says, the Great Chief in Washington can count on as truly as our white brothers can
count on the return of the seasons. My words are like the stars—they do not set.
How can you buy or sell the sky—the warmth of the land? The idea is strange to us. We do
not own the freshness of the air or the sparkle of the water. How can you buy them from
us? We will decide in our time. Every part of this earth is sacred to my people. Every
shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every humming
insect is holy in the memory and experience of my people.
We know that the white man does not understand our ways. One portion of the land is the
same to him as the next for he is a stranger who comes in the night and takes from the land
whatever he needs. The earth is not his brother, but his enemy, and when he has conquered
it, he moves on. He leaves his fathers' graves behind and he does not care. He kidnaps the
earth from his children. He does not care. His fathers' graves and his children's birthright
is forgotten. His appetite will devour the earth and leave behind only a desert. The sight of
your cities pains the eyes of the red man. But perhaps it is because the red man is a savage
and does not understand
There is no quiet place in the white man's cities. No place to hear the leaves of spring or the
rustle of insect wings. But perhaps because I am a savage and do not understand—the
clatter only seems to insult the ears. IiAnd what is there to life if a man cannot hear the
lovely cry of the whippoorwi112 or the arguments of the frogs around a pond at night? The
Indian prefers the soft sound of the wind darting over the face of the pond, and the smell of
the wind itself cleansed by the mid-day rain, or scented with pine. The air is precious to the
red man, for all things share the same breath—the beasts, the trees, and man. The white
man does not seem to notice the air he breathes. Like a man dying for many days, he is
numb to the smell.
If I decide to accept your offer, I will make one condition. The white men must treat the
beasts of this land as his brothers. I am a savage and I do not understand any other way. I
have seen a thousand rotting buffaloes on the prairie), left by the white men who shot them
from a passing train. I am a savage and do not understand how the smoking iron horse can
be more important than the buffalo that we kill only to stay alive. What is man without the
beasts? If all the beasts were gone, men would die from great loneliness of spirit; for
whatever happens to the beasts also happens to man. All things are connected. Whatever
befalls4 the earth, befalls the sons of the earth.
Our children have seen their fathers humbled in defeat. Our warriors have felt shame. And
after defeat they turn their days to idleness and contaminates their bodies with sweets, food
and drink. It matters little where we pass the rest of our days—they are not many. A few
more hours, a few more winters and none of the children of the great tribes that once lived
on the earth, or that roamed in small bands in the woods, will be left to mourn the graves of
a people once as powerful and hopeful as yours.
One thing we know which the white man may one day discover. Our God is the same God.
You may think now that you own him as you wish to own our land. But you cannot. He is
the God of men. This earth is precious to him. And to harm the earth is to heap contempt
on its Creator. The whites, too, shall pass—perhaps sooner than other tribes. Continue to
contaminate your bed and you will one night suffocate in your own waste. When the
buffalo are all slaughtered, the wild horses all tamed, the sacred corner of the forest heavy
with scent of many men, and the view of the ripe hills blotted by talking wires, where is the
thicket6? Gone. Where is the eagle? Gone. And what is it to say goodbye to the swift7 and
the hunt8—the end of living and the beginning of dying.
We might understand if we knew what it was that the white man dreams, what hopes he
describes to his children on long winter nights, what visions he burns into their minds, so
that they will wish for tomorrow. But we are savages. The white man's dreams are hidden
from us. And because they are hidden we will go on our own way. If we agree, it will be to
secure the reservation you have promised. Then perhaps we may—live out our brief days
as we wish. When the last red man has vanished from the earth, and the memory is only a
shadow of a cloud moving across the prairie, these shores and forests will still hold the
spirits of my people for they love this earth as the new born loves its mother's heartbeat. If
we sell you our land, love it as we have loved it. Care for it as we have cared for it. Hold in
your mind the memory of the land, as it is when you take it, and with all your strength,
with all your might, and with all your heart—preserve it for your children, and love it as
God loves us all. One thing we know—our God is the same God. This earth is precious to
Him. Even the white man cannot be exempt from the common destiny.
Points to Ponder
In the context of the many pandemics and environmental calamities we face today, the
Chief's words sound prophetic. He says, 'When the buffalo are all slaughtered, the wild
horses all tamed, the sacred corner of the forest heavy with scent of many men, and theview
ofthe ripe hills blotted by talking wires, where is the thicket ? Gone. Where is the eagle?
Gone. And what is it to say goodbye to the swift and the hunt—the end of living and the
beginning of dying.' Environmentalists have long warned the world of the dangers of
environmental degradation and the rate at which humans have been consuming its
resources. It is time we took firm action to protect our environment. As Chief Seathl
suggests, we will find answers and solutions in our environment• love it as we have loved it.
Care for it as we have cared for it. Hold in your mind the memory of the land, as it is when
you take it, and with all your strength, with all your might, and with all your heart—
preserve it for your children.'