
I am an anthropologist. My intellectual forebearers, educated in the universities of western Europe and North America from the early-1800s through the initial decades of the 20th century, were among the first to study the life ways of Arctic and Subarctic peoples. At that time European and American governments and industries were actively competing for control over much of this northern territory - followed by the exportation of capital and new technology to those areas in which they had achieved dominance. Cultural anthropologists, more experienced than most regarding the nomadic and pastoral residents of these regions, soon found that their knowledge assured them of an audience by the colonizing governments. And with that recognition came financial support for further research.
Eventually, numerous reports highlighting the customs, laws and beliefs of culturally distinct northern peoples began appearing in government documents, books, journals and magazines. Some are now classics in the field. But whether by circumstance or design, much of this early ethnographic reporting supported the popular ideology of the time which placed the economic and cultural development of white Anglo-Saxon society at the pinnacle of civilization, followed by the 'others,' the subjects of investigation, most of whom were red or brown. As the discipline's premier historian, George Stocking, wrote in his book Race, Culture, and Evolution: Essays in the History of Anthropology [1968], "By the middle of the 19th century, a rough sort of hierarchy of human races had become an accepted conventional anthropological wisdom."
Nor has the ghost of this intellectual past been completely laid to rest. The Canadian anthropologist, Michael Asch, succinctly states in his critique of development theory that once hunting and gathering peoples - such as those found in northern North America - come in contact with industrial societies, they tend to be perceived as evolving "...slowly but inexorablyy toward that more complex form." Furthermore, in keeping with western liberal tradition, this transformation process is commonly seen as being voluntary. Thus, for example, the Inupiat of Arctic Alaska are supposedly free to choose whether they wish to adopt newly available technology and Euro-American lifestyles. However, once such choices are embraced - and it is almost always assumed that they will be - this will eventually culminate in the abandonment of their existing way of life. By implication, if traditional culture is doomed, these people must further choose whether to become integrated into the dominant society with its wage-based, commodity-oriented economy, or find themselves relegated to a marginalized form of dependency. Correspondingly, for development experts and applied social scientists holding this view, the task becomes one of determining what factors are most likely to assist in furthering this adjustment in as harmonious a manner as possible.
However, many Alaskan Nevertheless, on Alaska's North Slope where a borough form of city
government has been functioning since 1972, striking changes have occurred
that has set this indigenous population on quite a different course from
Native peoples in most other regions of the Arctic. Due to the borough's
ability to tax oil revenues from Prudhoe Bay which lies within its borders, as
well as draw on state funds for city services, millions of revenue dollars
have become available to build modern high schools, provide housing with
heating systems and running water, and offer similar accoutrements of a
modern lifestyle once limited to comunities far to the south. Such a
dramatic change occurring over a few short years seems almost unbelievable
to those who once hauled ice for water and used dog sleds for travel. Yet
young children growing up on the North Slope today have little
understanding of these traditions; and so recent advantages are quickly
taken for granted.
Will these new forces - technological, economic and social - so
overwhelm the Inupiat that they will be unable to find new ways to assist
in their self-determination? Even if protective political entities are
developed, will the next generation of Native Alaskans actively support
them? Today, Inupiat elders express considerable concern over such
matters.
By contrast, younger Inupiat, while encouraged to respect their elders
views, often have different agendas. Is an Inupiat youth who speaks
English with friends, has little interest in traditional dances, and
prefers Big Mac's to seal meat no longer an Inupiat? Are Inupiat
university graduates whose knowledge of finance and management enable them
to take responsible positions in village and regional corporations, not
Inupiat? Of course they are. While such activities may not characterize
the Inupiat of the past, neither do they necessarily lessen their cultural
participation in the future. Culture is never something static, composed
only of isolated activities. The systems of meaning that social scientists
refer to as culture contain an immense range of flexibility while
at the same time offering a blueprint for shared behavior.
Such a perspective is clearly reflected in the statement of an young
Inupiat woman spoken at an Alaska Native Women's Statewide Organization
conference held in Barrow in 1982:
Along with questions of cultural identity, the Inupiat of Alaska's
North Slope are having to address additional problems common to all
circumpolar peoples impacted by the economic, social and political
realities of southern-based industrial societies. Of these problems, the
one often producing the greatest apprehension is the fear of losing their
land. Every culture needs a material foundation for its continuity. For
indigenous peoples of the North, it is the tundra, tiaga, and sea. This
issue is not simply one of subsistence, as crucial as that economic
endeavor is. Ties to the land and sea also entail special responsibilities
including the sharing of its resources with others. Nor is the environment
viewed only in natural terms. It is also endowed with cultural attributes
that enrich nature.
In the ethnographic portraits that follow, we will learn how the Inupiat
have addressed these issues: beginning with the years before the large
influx of Non-Native peoples to the North, and culminating with the
arrival of statehood and the discovery of oil in North Alaska. We will
explore the efforts of several of Canada's indigenous populations to
enhance their cultural viability and political self-determination
following the introduction of large scale hydroelectric and other forms of
natural resource development in that country's northern regions. Later on,
we will address similar indigenous responses to rapid economic, political,
and environmental changes in northern Scandanavia, Northwest Siberia, and
the Russian Far East. In each of these instances, special attention will
be given to analyzing polarizing issues and policies pertaining to
competition and cooperation; economic growth and conservation; wage labor
and subsistence; dependence and self-reliance; assimilation and cultural
viability. In so doing, we will come to understand how the indigenous
peoples of the Arctic and Subarctic have have made their own history and
shaped their own lives from deep in the past right up to the present.

Just what is being an Inupiaq? "Are we Inupiat because we
live in this land with a cold climate? If this is so, why then am I still
an Inupiaq when I travel to other far away places which are cold too?
Thus, I do not think that my living here makes me an Inupiaq. Or, am I an
Inupiaq because of my diet, the food I eat? Am I an Inupiaq just because I
eat Inupiat food? And if this is so, should I eat more and more Inupiat food
so that I can become a good Inupiaq? This is probably not so because
earlier today I saw a White man eating dried Eskimo meat and seal oil
although he is not an Inupiaq. So I do not think my food makes me an
Inupiaq..."But I want you all to think this over. What is an Inupiaq? If I
am an Inupiaq, how am I so?
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