A Genocidal Shaman in Northeast Asia

This is an analysis of a story about genocide. The story is not fiction. It’s about a shaman who killed a group of people whom he deemed to be a threat to his band. I argue that the shaman’s actions were morally wrong, that diplomacy and peace are worth the risk, and that we should always question and check our leaders.

The Koryak and Chukchi languages are similar, but not mutually intelligible. The speakers of these languages, since at least the seventeenth century, have lived in the extreme northeast of Asia. The Chukchi speakers, as of when the Russian explorers showed up, lived north of the Koryak speakers. Both groups combined reindeer herding with marine hunting, or specialized in one or the other, and lived basically nomadically; as some still do.

Horticulture is a territorial business; especially when and where resources, such as grass and other food for reindeer, are scarce. Also, control over flocks or herds can be a matter of competition that can lead to theft and violence. It seems quite possible that these groups have had a long history of conflict.

The story discussed here is an eyewitness account given by a Koryak speaker in 2001 as part of a Kulturstiftung Sibirien research project (https://dh-north.org/themen/kulturstiftung-sibirien/) and published in Worldvies and Ritual Practice: Coastal Koryaks (Nymylans), Lesnaya, Erich Kasten, ed. Verlag der Kulturstiftung Siberien, SEC Publications, 2017, (pp. 52–57).

The teller of the story is named Yaganov. Yaganov appears from the picture to be about seventy years old, and it seems he was aware of what was going on, so it seems the event took place in the mid twentieth century; possibly the fifties or sixties.

Yaganov said ‘we saw’ the Chukchis approaching. An elderly shaman spoke to Yaganov’s band and said that the Chukchis ‘were coming to kill us.’ The members of the band, it seems, believed the shaman, and were preparing to fight. The shaman told them to not bother, and that he would take care of it.

The shaman then rode out to meet the Chukchis, gained their trust somehow, and lead the Chukchis into a trap. The snow fell beneath them, and they all but one fell into the sea. The one survivor confirmed, Yaganov said, that the Chukchis were indeed coming to kill them.

There is some first person recollection that might not necessarily mean that Yaganov himself witnessed what he said. For example, he might have said ‘we saw’, and not meant that he himself was among the people who saw them; rather, he might have been saying that members of his band saw the foreigners.

How he or they knew the foreigners were Chukchis is unclear. It seems they trusted the shaman to affirm the foreigners’ identity and to interpret their intentions. The confession of the one survivor might have been witnessed directly; maybe not. Also, if the survivor spoke Chukchi, perhaps he also spoke Koryak, or perhaps the shaman spoke Chukchi. Yaganov mentioned none of this. He simply stated that they saw the Chukchi approaching.

The shaman’s authority is sort of a centerpiece for the story. The shaman claimed to have information as to who the foreigners were and what their intentions were, and he could convince, it seems, the band that not only were these foreigners a threat, but also that he could single-handedly protect the band from the threat.

To protect the people from the threat, the shaman committed an act of genocide. He tried to kill all the foreigners, and very nearly succeeded. This is atrocious.

Even if these were Chukchi speakers, it does not mean they were hostile. They might have been fleeing Soviet collectivization, possibly lost, possibly looking for new pastures. One fact Yaganov includes is that he saw a young boy fall into the water with the rest of them, so this suggests perhaps that it was not a war party. On the other hand, Yaganov did not mention women and girls, so perhaps it was a hunting party.

Even if it was a war party of Chukchi speakers who were seeking to commit their own genocide, this does not mean that diplomacy was out of the question. The shaman gave no room for diplomacy; instead making the determination on his own to lead the foreigners to a deadly trap.

Yaganov does not claim that shamans are necessarily good or righteous people. He told of one who was ‘just a healer’ who never did any dark sorcery, and of two who were very bitter and angry and used dark sorcery to cause great suffering onto the people who crossed them. In this story, whether Yaganov thought this shaman was good or bad, or right or wrong, is unclear. Yaganov did bother to add that the survivor agreed that the Chukchis were coming to kill them, so maybe Yaganov approved of the shaman’s methods, but he did not directly say so.

Apart from the shaman’s authority, this is a tale of how in-group out-group interactions become reified. The neighbors who speak another language are seen as more of a threat to the band, it is implied, than are neighbors who speak the same language.

The shaman was able to commit this atrocity seemingly with the support of the band. It seems possible that some members of the band did not trust the shaman, but did not want to get on his bad side. There might have been ways to challenge his authority, but maybe they thought he was really keeping them safe. This is especially likely if the shaman was controlling the information.

How long these groups had such hostile interactions is unclear: at least to me. The increased pressure in the mid-twentieth century from the Soviet Union, which under and after Stalin sought to control the political-economic lives of the population, including horticulturalists, likely put more pressure on both groups that made conflict more likely.

The shaman’s authority was bolstered by this in-group out-group dynamic. The members of Yaganov’s band never got to talk with the foreigners: except the one survivor. There was not a moment when, according to Yaganov’s account, when they got to share in a conversation or a piece of food. They never really met.

Peace is worth the risk. The two bands might have worked together to make a better situation for all involved. Sometimes there is a risk to diplomacy. Sometimes there is a risk to hospitality. Building peace with our neighbors is a more healthy and just way to go.

If this shaman was old in the fifties, he’s surely died by now. Shamans are human, too, after all. It seems likely there are many other scars covering the trauma these communities share. Hopefully they get along better in the future. I understand they are getting along better these days than they were those days. Hopefully, they will work and heal together for generations to come.

Thank you for reading. I hope you are healthy, wealthy, and at peace with your neighbors.

Power to the People.

Freedom of the Soul.