The creator of the bears themselves was confectioner Hans Riegel from Bonn (Ha-Ri-Bo, where the company name Haribo comes from), Germany, who, together with his wife Gertrud, in 1922, made the first of their kind by hand and poured them into molds; he personally delivered them to his customers on his bicycle. Called “dancing bears” back then, the bears certainly brought him luck. Since those humble beginnings, the company has grown to its present-day staff of six thousand and produces seventy million bears a day. Now, gummy bears are produced in France, England, Denmark, Austria, Spain, and the United States.
Paddington Bear
In a London subway station, the Brown family stumbles upon a small bear. Completely lost, the bear stands there in his duffel coat that is a bit too big and a wide-brimmed hat, such as only a British eccentric wears. He is holding a suitcase and has a note hung around his neck that reads, “Please look after this bear. Thank you.” The good people are touched. They take the bear home, who claims to have come all the way from deepest Peru, and name their new house guest Paddington, after the station where they found him. What follows is the foreign bear’s often funny attempts to comprehend the British way of life. He invariably sticks his foot in his mouth on occasion. Paddington’s character is actually completely British and harmlessly eccentric. He is extremely polite and loves jam, which unfortunately drips and sticks everywhere; he enjoys perfumed bubble baths, likes to go shopping, reads books, drinks tea, decorates his room, and sleeps, as is proper, in pajamas; essentially, he is a parody of the English petty-bourgeoisie.
Michael Bond began to write the book, A Bear Called Paddington, after he bought a teddy bear in the London department store Selfridges. The book first appeared in 1958 and became the best children’s book of that same year. More Paddington books followed, as well as a flood of Paddington stuffed bears, tapes, and animated films. The cash registers never stopped ringing at Paddington and Company, while, in the meantime, a large statue of the famous bear from Peru is installed in the London Paddington station.
The Russian Bear
A great many entries for “Russian Bear” can be found on the internet:
a colorful kind of butterfly (Euplagia quadripunctaria)
the popular Canadian free-style wrestler and twice-born Christian, Ivan Koloff
an anabolic cocktail for body builders and muscle men, such as Arnold Schwarzenegger or Ivan Koloff
the Russian Bear Schnauzer, a huge, shaggy schnauzer
a delicious cocktail with lots of vodka, crème de cacao, and cream
a fundamentalist Christian personification of Magog, the realm of evil, and the hordes of the Antichrist that will descend upon America and Israel in the last battles of the apocalypse
the Russian folk soul that sees itself as a bear
The largest population of brown bears in the world lives in the taiga and tundra of Russia. Since time immemorial, the bear—Michail Ivanowitsch, Mischka, General Clumsy Foot, Honey Eater, the Wise Old One—has played an important role in the cultural cosmos of the eastern Slavs. As far back as heathen times, forest bears were seen as guardians of the threshold to the realm of Leschiy, or Lesovik, the one-eyed lord of the forest, who, even today, according to folk belief, protects wild animals and punishes offenses against the forest.
Russians identify with their totem animal as they see it—strong and down to earth, clumsy in vodka bliss, and endowed with a heart of gold.2 He is not as charming, clever, and contentious (as the case may be) as the Gallic rooster, not as fanatically orderly and clean as the German “Michel,” and does not bristle with merciless justice like the American eagle. He presents himself as smiling “Mischka,” as could be seen in the mascot of the 1980 Olympics in Moscow.
Mischka, the mascot of the Olympic games in Moscow, 1980
The good-naturedness of the Russian bear should not be interpreted as weakness; if he is annoyed or driven into a corner, he is capable of unpredictable outbursts of violence. Many conquerors have felt the force of his angry paws—the Tatars, the Turks, Napoleon’s Grande Armée, and most recently the proud German Armed Forces. A leading prominent journalist of a large newspaper recently warned about provoking the Russian bear—NATO and the EU must be careful not to get too close for comfort and thus appear interested in snacking on his honey pots (i.e., Russia’s oil reserves).
Smokey Bear
One of the first posters of Smokey Bear
Smokey Bear, with his jeans, shovel, and ranger hat, is a forest ranger and an American icon. Similar to the campaign of Uncle Sam, during the second World War, who looked sternly, pointed his finger at onlookers, and declared, “I want you,” Smokey looks condescendingly at the national park guests and commands, “Remember, only you can prevent forest fires!” When the strapping bear first appeared on posters in 1944, he had a military duty. There was a general fear that Nazi agents or shots fired from Japanese submarines might set the West Coast forests on fire. At first, the Wartime Advertising Council proposed Walt Disney’s Bambi as a symbol for the forest fire-fighting campaign, but in times of war a uniformed bear was more appropriate. Smokey was named after a successful firefighter named “Smokey” Joe Martin.
Smokey first came about during a huge forest fire in the spring of 1950 in the Capitan Mountains of New Mexico when rangers found a bear cub with badly burned paws. This cub that they first named “Hotfoot” became the official animal totem of the state of New Mexico and, at the same time, was declared the living mascot of the National Forest Service. After his burns healed, the living symbol was sent to Washington, DC, to live in the national zoo. Soon after, he became so popular that sending him all the mail from hordes of children and admirers grew into a difficult task, so the U.S. Postal Service was forced to give Smokey his own zip code.
In 1952, in order to avoid a merciless commercialization of Smokey, the U.S. Congress passed a bill against such exploitation of the popular bear. The living Smokey was given a female bear companion so that he could live as naturally as possible, but no cubs ensued. When Smokey died in 1976, he was buried ceremoniously in the presence of many spectators and prominent politicians in the “Smokey Bear Park” in New Mexico. (More about Smokey can be found in Chapter 18). In 1984, the U.S. Postal Service issued a stamp that depicted Smokey as a cub, clinging to a tree trunk, and surrounded by a charcoaled landscape.
Winnie-the-Pooh
Winnie-the-Pooh, named after a genuine American black bear in the London Zoo, was the first teddy bear in literature. A. A. Milne, the well-to-do writer and editor of the satire magazine Punch, wrote the book Winnie-the-Pooh, in which the stuffed animal toys of his son, Christopher Robin, played the main roles. Ernest H. Shepard illustrated the book in addition to being the illustrator at Punch. Winnie-the-Pooh became a classic and the main character an icon of children’s literature. (See more about Winnie-the-Pooh in Chapter 20).
Yogi Bear
Yogi Bear, named after the popular baseball legend Yogi Berra, can be seen since 1959 on the Huckleberry Hound Show. He lives in the national park “Jellystone,” somewhere between Wyoming and Montana, and specializes in searching rest area waste bins for something to eat, begging tourists for food or stealing their picnic baskets, and driving the park rangers up a wall. Yogi, who believes he is much more intelligent than the average bear, goes about his business in a clever way. Yogi and the little bear Boo-Boo—who are sponsored by Kellogg’s Corn Flakes—have become very popular and have appeared in over one hundred newspapers, have earned over one hundred million dollars as toys, and are permanent stars on the Disney Channel. On summer vacation, parents can pack up the kids and dog and drive to a Yogi Bear’s Jellystone Park Camp-Resort found in nearly every state.
Afterword
Hope for the Bear’s Return
Grandfather bear, Golden Paws,
King of the Forest, King of the Animals,
Anima’s Lover, The Goddess’s Lover,
Bearer of the Stars.
Your strength moves the wheels o
f the heavens,
the seasons, life itself.
May your place in the forests, dear wild brothers,
in the mountains, and in human hearts, be granted.
Heavenly bear! Do not desert us!”
Author’s poem
Thoughts are energy. If one concentrates one’s thoughts on an object, whether it be a rock, a plant, an animal, or a human, one touches it. Invariably, one will be rewarded with an answer. Not long after I finished this book, some bears—to be precise, it was the Bear Tribe Medicine Company—invited me to come to a medicine meeting in Schwangau, Germany. I had heard of Sun Bear, the Chippewa medicine man and visionary, and knew he had prophesied the end of the consumer society that is based on technocratic megalomania and had offered the traditional wisdom of the Native Americans for healing. Against the opposition of other Native American medicine people and shamans, he also shared his knowledge with the children of white people.
Emblem of the Bear Tribe Medicine Company
I expected a symposium at which environmental problems and those of peoples facing extinction would be discussed, so I prepared a lecture titled, “Bear herbs, the strongest healing plants.” I was not prepared for what I saw at the meeting. I felt myself almost sent back in time, into the Stone Age Magdalenian when the people of Europe to North America lived as big game hunters and paid homage to a bear cult. Whole families were staying in tents at the foot of the snowy mountains. Bundled up in furs and knitted woolens, they sang songs for Mother Earth and Father Sun: “The Earth is our mother and with each step we touch sacred ground.” They treated each other like brothers and sisters. They also sang for Grandfather and Grandmother Bear, accompanied by a genuine shaman drum. They summoned the bears to let our strength and wisdom return to us.
In the evening, the bear tribe people sweated in a traditional sweat lodge. They incensed their bodies with prairie sage, offered sweet grass and tobacco to the spirits, passed the sacred peace pipe around, and sent their prayers to the Great Spirit at the medicine wheel.
While I was talking about healing plants, a huge, long-haired young man with lots of amulets, crystals, and runes hanging around his neck came and stood in the door to the tent. This guardian of the threshold was called “Breitschaedel” (a German name that means “broad skull”). It was his real name and not a name he had given himself. He was as good-natured as he was wild—a berserker having difficulty with the times he was born into. It came to my mind that an incarnated bear spirit was there in front of me. Here, in the shadow of the Alps, where the Bavarian kings had built their castles, I had found a “place of power” where a bear vision could come to me.
The Earth, and our near relatives, the plants and animals, talk to us all the time—this was Sun Bear’s message; we must only learn to listen again. They are not just objects that can arouse scientific interest but the expression of spiritual archetypes that live in us and outside of us in nature and can take on many shapes. Here, the bear archetype appeared to me, talked to me, and touched me.
But not only the bear’s spirit can present itself in these historic times of change. Real bears, shaggy, grumbling bears, are also coming back to the sacred mountains of Europe, to the Alps. Thanks to the World Wildlife Fund (WWF), bears that migrate from the Balkans are no longer shot as a matter of course. And in 1989, a bear was set out near Oetscherberg, Austria. Against all expectations, she was seen in 1991 with three cubs. Since that time, the population has grown to twenty-five. More bears, coming from Slovenia and Croatia, are expected to be set out in South Tyrol and Lombardy. In Trentino, Italy, where some of the last Alpine bears live, no less than ten bears were sighted between 1999 and 2002. The bear population has increased at a natural rate since then but unfortunately the human population observes this with mixed feelings. Beekeepers have justified apprehensions about bears being around, but hikers should not be worried; the authorities reassure the public that the animals are rather shy and tend to be peaceful.
The crises of our civilization—the hole in the ozone, pollution, climate catastrophes, the extinction of species, etc.—seem absolute and unstoppable. However, as a Native American from the Klamath tribe assured me, scientists equipped with monitors and the most sophisticated computers do not know everything. Their perspective is ultimately only that of an ant. The Earth itself is a bear. Stinking factories and huge cities are like fleas and ticks on her. Soon, she will shake herself and scratch the parasites off, cleansing herself. Then humans and animals can live in harmony again and all can enjoy life.
“A nice dream,” I said.
“Dreams and visions create realities,” he answered.
That wild animals are returning—the bears in the Alps, the wolves in Saxony—is for those who read signs, a sign of hope. It is the hope that is expressed in the song of completing the medicine wheel:
The dawn of a new time is coming, Golden light is flowing all over the earth.
Notes
Introduction
1 Bruin is an old northern European endearment for the bear meaning “the brown, furry one.”
Chapter 1
1 Western religious ethnology talks about “animal possession” of indigenous shamans. But this is a typical ethnocentric misunderstanding. These people are in unison with the animal spirit, not possessed by it.
2 For example, a panther warned Phoolan Devi, a modern female Robin Hood in India, that a gang of police was about to descend on her hideout (Devi 1997).
3 Henning Eichler, an independent shaman researcher, told me this in conversation.
4 Satata-siddhi (Sanskrit satata = continual, siddhi = supernatural powers) refers to unusual “shamanic” abilities, such as telepathy, levitation, mind reading, invisibility, bi-location, entering another body, and so on.
Chapter 2
1 For more information, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bear_worship.
2 On the other hand, several prehistorians doubt that the small statue was even an intentionally created work of art. The “pseudo Venus” seemed more likely to have come to be through the chance wearing of a tool; besides, no one believed the Neanderthals possessed such craftsmanship (Kuckenburg 1997, 296). The figure that was in the local museum of St. Gallen was unfortunately not handled properly and turned to dust. All that is left are some photographs of it.
3 The Neanderthals were a human species that had genetically adjusted to the extreme ice age climate. Gene researchers’ theory until 2010 that Neanderthals have completely different DNA from modern people has not been proven valid. Despite the fact that gene analysis is extremely difficult with such ancient bones, analysts in 2010 were able to trace and prove the DNA connection (Pääbo, 2015). Also, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Svante_P%C3%A4%C3%A4bo.
4 Arktos is related to Latin ursus and to Old Indic raksha. These words go back to the Indo-Germanic root rksos or rktos, which means “destroyer, demon.”
5 Research done by Dr. F. Ed. Koby and H. Schaefer at the Natural Historical Museum in Basel, Switzerland, indicates that it is very unlikely that Neanderthals systematically hunted cave bears. Even if the struggle between early humans and monster bears arouses romantic or Darwinistic notions, the hunting technology of the Neanderthals will have hardly been sophisticated enough to manage such an accomplishment. The Paleolithic bear hunters with their relatively simple weapons only seldom had occasion to kill a bear; most cave bears died of natural causes. For more information, see https://ipna.unibas.ch/archbiol/pdf/1972_Schmid_Knochenatlas.pdf.
Chapter 3
1 The word totem comes from the Algonquians. O-t-ote-man means “relative of one’s own brother/sister”; the root word ote designates not only relatives within the family but also the animal that is related to the clan (or sometimes also a plant or a dreamtime object).
Chapter 4
1 The northern European proverbial expression “an un-licked bear” (German ein ungeleckter Baer and French un ours mal leché), referring to a coarse, unrefined person, g
oes back to a belief, also held by the ancient Romans, that bears are born as formless clumps and licked into the right shape by the mother (Roehrich 2001, 1:145).
2 Black bears gestate for seven months.
Chapter 6
1 Professed diseases of civilization, such as diabetes, circulatory diseases, cancer, or tooth decay, were all unknown in tribal times. They became a part of Native American lives only as a result of stress, poverty, and the transition to industrial, refined supermarket foods.
Chapter 7
1 Bear milk is indeed rich and full of nourishment. It is ten times as nourishing as cow’s milk. With 35 percent milk fat, 11 percent protein, and some 10 percent carbohydrates (Busch 2000, 63).
2 These tasks symbolize the duties of the dead in the otherworld. The ripe apples and the baked loaves of bread stand for the human souls that are ready to be reborn and must be carefully tended by the dead. For more information, see Witchcraft Medicine by Mueller-Ebeling, Raetsch, and Storl (2003).
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