Chief Lightning Bolt

by Daniel N. Paul

  William, somewhat awed by what he had just heard, returned to his wigwam for meditation. His thoughts covered a wide range of comparisons of his present life with his past experiences in England. For starters, he found the fact that he had been a prisoner since he arrived unbelievable. At no time had he ever been restricted in his activities and movements. There hadn’t been any hint whatsoever in the Sunrise-to-Sunrise conduct of the People towards him that would have given a clue that he was a prisoner. In fact, given the mainly brutal way in which he had been treated prior to coming here, he believed that he had been treated like an honoured guest. He thought to himself, “Prisoner status? If only, in youth, I had been lucky enough to have been a prisoner with these kind People.”

  In comparison to what he had heard about prisons from European friends and workmates, who had languished in dismal conditions, this was heaven. They had described without any doubt the worst kind of hellholes, of almost unbelievable squalor, where torture, depravation and brutality prevailed. The difference to him between the way the two societies imprisoned people was like night and day.

  In general, the leaders of his country seemed to enjoy making the peasant’s life as miserable as possible. People in the main only enjoyed limited freedom of expression, and few civil rights. It was a life of hard and unceasing labour. If his countrymen had a chance to exchange their present lives for the life of a prisoner in this enlightened society, the lineup would be endless. William was quickly coming to a decision. His former life did not compare well with the life he had known since fate had brought him to live among the Mi’kmaq. This subconscious comparative exercise had started when he began to tell Lightning Bolt, during their first few meetings, about the sad conditions under which many Europeans lived.

  When he had first awoken to find himself in a bed made of boughs, in a strange house, being cared for by a strange People, his only thoughts had been for survival and the time when he would be able to return home. Then, with the passage of time, he had learned much about the civilization his rescuers enjoyed. He had not, by any measure, found it wanting.

  William’s own childhood had effectively ended at the age of seven, when his father had pressed him into farm labour. He then worked for five years, ten hours a day, six days a week. He remembered his father as a cruel man. Shortly after his twelfth birthday, his father had placed him into bondage with a sea captain for an unknown monetary consideration. He had not seen his family since.

  He had a few fond memories. He knew in his heart that his mother and siblings loved and missed him. They had wept when he was sent away, indentured for an unknown length of time. Decisions fathers made were not open to question. For his father, money and status came before family. William now recognized, as an adult, that if his mother, whom he loved dearly, had tried to interfere with his father’s decision to indenture him, she would have received a vicious beating. In fact, he could still recall vividly and with a great deal of anger and sorrow, that he, his mother, his brothers and sisters had all received terrible beatings from his father for no apparent reason. As he reflected back from this new place of freedom from fear, the actual frequency of these physical assaults seemed to fill his heart with dismay. He recalled how the right to beat your wife and children occurred because of the laws of most European countries. Women and children were without assistance. Anyone without financial means or the status of a man held nothing more than the status of property and captured farm animals. A father’s word was unquestioned law.

  William mused over the many other differences between the two societies. They were profound. In Mi’kmaq society, Elders were shown the utmost respect and held in high esteem. No poorhouses existed for them to be consigned to by their children. He recoiled when he remembered how elders in his own society had to live out their remaining years in dire straits and abject poverty. Here in this new land, the physically and mentally ill were also given the best of care. There were no lunatic asylums. Nor were there hospitals hiding the sick away from everyone else. In Mi’kmaq society, each individual appeared to be genuinely loved and cherished regardless of status or condition.

  He noted that leadership was also completely different. In Mi’kmaq society, the People controlled the agenda, as opposed to the iron-fisted control of the aristocrats throughout so much of Europe. And women, although not permitted to hold the office of Chief, were in no other way denied. The way they were esteemed because their childbearing capabilities made them far more influential in the affairs of the community than most men cared to admit.

  The way the Mi’kmaq selected their leaders impressed William as compared to European societies, where most had assumed their positions by way of birth, and high offices automatically came with lavish perks regardless of personal conduct. He had been astounded to learn that no special perks came with an office. An incumbent, if he received any advantage, had to earn these each through his actions.

  Even more unbelievable, William reflected that a certain value appeared very strong in the Mi’kmaq way. He had noted very early in his stay how this society was strictly governed by the principle of “one for all and all for one.” And he thought to himself how these people enjoyed the freedom of speech and assembly. He wondered if they even knew how much they might be taking for granted. In sharp contrast to his birth country, which had a system that relegated people into a multitude of different social classes, he had witnessed no different classes of people in Mi’kmaq society. His old life was led by the titled, followed closely by the wealthy, then those in the different trades and so on. He was at the bottom of this order of things.

  Considering all this, William realized that he was not leaving much behind. The tenets of the society from which he came did not compare favourably in any respect with Mi’kmaq society. He imagined how his conclusion might sound offensive to the ears of his European leaders, while those in lesser roles might jump at the mere thought of becoming free, at last.

  Of course, technology was more advanced in Europe, he had to admit. But he found that the tools used by the Mi’kmaq served the needs of their society more than adequately. Perhaps the Nations of Europe had advanced so fast in this field due to their lust to kill each other. To wage war, to try to dominate their neighbours or steal their properties, they continually spent vast sums of money to develop more efficient tools of war. Many European countries had been locked in wars for so long no one could remember when they started. William could see no virtue to war in a community of nations whose means to wealth and prosperity was assured. In most cases he felt their wars were not fought for noble purposes, but based on greed and thirst for power over other’s lives. He knew this from the information that he had gathered, by listening to the tales of many old sailors and other well-informed acquaintances he had encountered on his travels.

  As he considered his options, William recalled and reviewed several conversations he’d had with Lightning Bolt about European civilization. “Tell me, my friend,” Lightning Bolt once said. “As a child did you love the man who made you work like a man when you were only half-grown, and sold you into what you call indentured service?”

  “Master, when I was very small I did. But, as I grew older and began to realize how he was exploiting us for wealth, my love turned to hate. Try as I might, I still cannot find any charity in my heart for him. I don’t know if I can ever forgive what he did, just thinking about it turns my heart to stone!”

  “My heart turns to stone just hearing about him. Do other fathers where you come from do the same thing?”

  “Yes, many. Children are used for many different things: farm labour, factory hands, chimney sweeps and so on. Also, many are turned out into the streets at very young ages and taken in by individuals called pimps, who sell their young bodies to perverts for sexual pleasure. And I’ve heard about young boys, placed in choirs when their voices are at their sweetest, who are castrated to assure that they retain their sweet voices as long as possibl
e. Such abuses are common.”

  “My friend,” Lightning Bolt said, “when I think about how you — your mother, sisters and brothers — have suffered at the hands of men like your father, this breaks my heart. Such heartless men would not be permitted to do such things in our country. Beating women and abusing children is one of the worst crimes a man can be accused of. If convicted and he refused to mend his ways, we would probably shun him for the rest of his Seasons, or give him the death penalty.

  “We have provisions in our system that provide an honourable way for individuals who might be inclined to indulge in such abuse to transfer their children to other families for care. Adoptions are very easy and give those who find they haven’t the patience for parenthood a civilized way out of their dilemma. No one is bothered when a child is raised by a new family other than its birth parents. If we were to ostracize them, none would come forward and many children would suffer because of it.

  “Divorce is also easy. After marriage some people find they can’t abide each other. It doesn’t make sense to force them to live unhappily together for the rest of their lives when they could find compatible mates to be happy with. But divorce and child abuse are rare.

  “Now my friend, back to the subject of your father, would you consider killing him for his crimes against you, your mother and siblings, if you had the opportunity?”

  “Master, what I missed as a child was brought home to me when I heard you describe your relationship with your family. My heart yearns to have known the same. When I look back on my youth and see how my bothers, sisters and mother and I suffered at the hands of the man whose seed I come from, I know that in reality I never had a father, nor my mother a husband. What we had was a master. He owned us. He didn’t love us and he treated us worse than most human beings treat animals. Yes, if I was to come face-to-face with the monster today, I would without any hesitation dispatch him to his Maker for judgement.

  “But I don’t lay all the blame on him. His behaviour is common throughout many European countries. Our leaders must accept much of the blame. They enacted the laws that give fathers ironclad control over wives and children. Now that I know that abuse can be outlawed by a caring society I cry for the sufferings of the women and children of Europe.”

  “William, my friend, our society has a legend about a group of men who ruled our Nation in ancient times in a manner that was almost identical to the way your leaders rule yours. The cruel things that these men did to the People always seemed to me almost impossible to comprehend. I even had doubts about the truth of it, until you told me about the world you come from. I’ll tell you the legend of the Dictators…” When he finished, Lightning Bolt continued, “My friend, I’ve nothing but heartfelt pity for most of the people from whence you come. Living without human rights, equality or justice is a nightmare to me.

  “Do Europeans really not know that at birth everyone is born naked and that when we die we return to dust? Equality is there from start to finish. I know of no one who is immortal and therefore better than his brothers and sisters. Do you know of any such person in your society? I won’t wait for an answer to that question, because the answer is obvious; of course you don’t.

  “The Great Spirit gives us only a short time to reside on Mother Earth. During it, except for the innocents He calls home early, we are expected to demonstrate to Him, by being kind and generous to our fellow human beings, that we are worthy of residing in His presence in the Land of Souls. There are no exceptions made for anyone. “In the Land of Souls there are no special perks for anyone. A leader is treated the same as the canoe maker, the basket weaver and so on. No preferential treatment is given because of the position a person held on Mother Earth. Leaders are not the People’s superiors.

  “How could a leader believe his position makes him better than his People? How can they permit themselves to be called such things as your gracious majesty, your worship, your most sacred majesty, master and so on, and then force the People to bow down and crawl before their presence? Such behaviour seems sacrilegious. They put themselves above the laws of their God and do terrible injury to those they think below them. To me, such an attempt by men to take up the trappings reserved only for the Great Father is sure to offend Him.

  “Another thing that bewilders me about Europeans is the thirst you tell me they have for the thing you call money. Using it to buy such things as power, property and sometimes titles, and other perks, so that a person can say, ‘This is mine. I own this.’ I don’t see the sense in this idea. To us, a person with an aptitude for making canoes does so. When he finishes making one, he freely gives it to another who needs it. The same philosophy of sharing applies to all material things. For the life of me, I can’t see why a canoe maker would want to sit around looking at all the canoes he made during his lifetime, saying ‘I own these,’ when he can make others happy by giving them away. After all, when he dies, he owns nothing.

  “I’ve tried, my friend, to sort out in my mind how these things called money and personal property can be useful. To be honest, I cannot. From what you’ve told me they hinder the establishment of good relationships between brothers and sisters. In your society, as you have explained, even the religious leaders compete for money, property and power. How this kind of activity by them would please the Great Spirit is another thing far beyond my powers of comprehension.

  “In our society, hard work, generosity, compassion and humility earn the love and respect of the People. In yours, the ones who own money and property get what your People consider respect. How can a leader expect thanks and respect from people who are forced to work like slaves from sunrise to sunset, to the end of their Sunrises, for only bare sustenance? It sounds like madness.

  “What makes the whole thing even more inconceivable for me is that the desire to acquire wealth seems to infect all these different levels of your society. From the king down to the lowest peasant, like your father who is, although at the bottom, still deeply involved in the competition for this wealth. I think, in contrast, and with great respect not withheld to your People, that the true wealth of nations has not yet been discovered by Europe.

  “Therefore, my sympathy for the plight of the peasants is lessened moderately by the fact that many do stoop to the same self-serving and mean-spirited level as do the rich. I say moderately, because I can understand that the choice between working for the leaders for so little or starving could impel a weak person to do wrong.

  “When you told me that these peasants need their master’s permission to marry, go to school or to look for other jobs that might give them a higher station in life, I was incredulous. But still, this mistreatment is not justification for selling children into indentured service. It sounds as though in your society the desire for money is so strong that it even extends to buying unfortunate people called slaves as work animals or human sex toys. It grieves me completely to know that at this very Sunrise, there are people in countries being forced to parade naked in front of buyers, fondled and poked by them as if they were canoes, to see if all their parts are working properly. That many female slaves will be taken and sexually abused by their masters, that any children born from these forced encounters will be considered animals and sold by their fathers. Such, my friend, is horror without equal.

  “We don’t have this kind of activity in our society, and I don’t think we’ve ever had it. For this I praise the Great Spirit with all my heart! Even our prisoners of war are only required to share equally in the chores of the community. We have, on rare occasions, especially when it was concluded that peace could not be secured with an enemy for some time, ransomed them back to their own Nations for furs, but never have we considered trading them to a third Nation to be used as slaves. In fact, we offer any prisoners, if they don’t want to return to their homelands, the option of becoming a citizen. I don’t recall, nor have I ever been told about any instance where someone was repatriated to their Nation
against their will.”

  William recalled with amusement Lightning Bolt’s incredulous reaction when he told him how some Europeans lived permanently in large villages and depended on others to harvest Mother Earth for them. Then, when he told him about some of the huge homes, many with a hundred rooms or more, that were owned in these villages by the titled, or the rich, and that only a few people lived in them, his reaction was disbelief incarnate. The Chief wanted to know what purpose these huge monstrosities served. When told that they were for a thing called prestige, and having explained what prestige meant, William thought Lightning Bolt would die laughing.

  He would always remember with glee the Chiefs comments, “But what, my friend, do these crazy people do in these places? Do they entertain themselves by chasing themselves through the rooms? It conjures up in my mind an image that tickles my funny bone. Can you imagine how ridiculous it would look if we lived in the same kind of society, me having a hundred wigwams at my disposal? I could see myself now, foolishly trying to live in all at the same time. And you say they do it for this thing called prestige, which is being able to tell another I have something bigger and better than you. May the Great Spirit spare me from ever having to deal with such utter folly.”

  Of all the things he had told the Chief about his former life, the thing that shocked Lightning Bolt most was the way Europeans worshiped their God. Lightning Bolt responded, “My friend, you sit there and tell me things that astound me. Why on Mother Earth would they build huge structures to go into, in order to pay homage to the Great Spirit? Why ever would they only take a little time on certain Sunrises, which they call Sundays, and Holy Days, to give thanks to the Creator of all things? Why build any buildings in the first place? You don’t need a building to worship and respect the Great Spirit. It can be done always. And anywhere.