A few weeks ago, Survival International, a human rights organisation dedicated to protecting indigenous people and their land, reported that at least 196 uncontacted tribes still exist, but forecasted that their number could halve within the coming decade.
Uncontacted peoples, mostly living in the Amazon, especially in Brazil, choose to remain isolated. Yet, contact is being forced upon them more and more, often brutally and violently, not unlike an invasion. Self-proclaimed pioneers, conquerors, I call them.
The Romans did it, the Spaniards did it, and likewise the Brits. Colonial subjugation was their measure of success, power, and indeed masculinity. Needless to say, most of the conquerors were privileged white men driven by a feeling of superiority, constantly trying to prove their virility and showcase their supremacy. Being the first to contact tribes is never enough; they need to be overpowered, uprooted, oppressed and exploited. No longer humans, just trophies, proof of their tremendous conceit.
In 1995, Brazil’s Indian affairs department, FUNAI, found a whole tribe massacred by cattle ranchers who took over the land. However, it is not always direct violence that causes their demise. Diseases are the most daunting factor of contact for the uncontacted peoples.
The people of North Sentinel Island, part of India’s Andaman and Nicobar Islands, are considered to be one of the most isolated human communities on earth. No one understands their language or even knows what they call themselves, but they have made one thing clear: no contact, or they shall doom you to death. Their history with colonialism and, in particular, British colonist Maurice Vidal Portman, who was stationed in the Andaman Islands in the late 19th century and was known for documenting the Andamanese tribes, might have accelerated their vehement loathing of contact. Portman sought to contact and study the Sentinelese and therefore abducted two adults and four children to his base in Port Blair, where the adults died almost immediately from diseases. After their examination, the children were sent back with gifts, but they also carried deadly diseases ready to spread. Uncontacted peoples’ immune systems are defenceless against diseases we consider ordinary, making influenza, measles, and chicken pox life-threatening to them.
Even today, their isolation evokes obsession. Christian missionaries view it as their duty to contact them and deliver the good news of Jesus Christ. The 2018 death of John Chau, a Christian who prepared for his mission for a decade to contact the Sentinelese in “Satan’s last stronghold”, illustrates how zealotry persists. When the Sentinelese shot arrows at him on his first attempt to go ashore, he retreated, but his conviction compelled him to return the next day. As the fishermen who brought him to the island returned a day later, they could only witness his dead body being dragged over the beach in a parading manner by the Sentinelese.
The sign could not have been clearer: if you contact us, you will die!
While Stephen Corry, a representative for Survival International, stated: “Mr Chau’s body should be left alone, as should the Sentinelese”, John’s friends describe his actions as an act of love, and the Christian missionary community celebrates him as a martyr.
John Chau’s story is not an exception. Throughout history, missionaries have endangered indigenous communities in pursuit of their conviction, believing they have the moral high ground. They believe they are doing the tribes a favour by “enlightening” them, yet in reality, importing diseases and evoking violent reactions.
Jim Elliot, who sought to convert the Huaorani of Ecuador, dedicated his life to God’s orders. He and his group made friendly contact first, but were then killed by Huaorani warriors. Their deaths were later glorified as martyrdom, when the contact and, thereby, collision of worlds should never have happened in the first place.
A man who realised this relatively early on was Sydney Possuelo. He worked for the Brazilian government, instructed to contact uncontacted tribes. However, soon after his first encounter with a tribe in 1971, he turned to fight for their lives and rights. He said:
“For once you make contact, you start to destroy their universe”
Possuelo learned how to treat injuries inflicted during the conflict over land and established a landmark policy through his efforts.
“When a people is isolated and at peace, when nothing threatens them, why do we need to contact them?” Sydney Possuelo asked.“Just because we know they exist?”
International law now recognises their collective ownership of land and their right to reject contact, namely the “no-contact” principle. Activities on their territories are therefore illegal.
After the fading of colonialism and traditional conquerors, hope was short-lived. Instead, a new threat has emerged: the influencers. Aspiring to be the first ones to make contact, they’re in the pursuit of clicks, money, fame, and, most importantly, admiration. The mission is a thrilling one. Trying to contact the previously uncontacted turns into a challenge. The danger involved, not knowing how they will react, only makes it more clickworthy. A modern conqueror, a modern tactic, but the same motives.
In 1973, the Panará tribe lost most of their people to diseases introduced by a new road project. Yet, in 2022, they succeeded in reclaiming their traditional land. A rare flicker of hope amid a centuries-long, human-made crisis that has condemned thousands to misery.
A person in an online forum once asked: “Is it ethical not to contact uncontacted tribes?” The question itself reveals the real issue, assuming our values, beliefs, and way of living to be the only valid ones. It is the same superiority complex that once fuelled colonialism, a form of paternalism: we know better, therefore we must “save” them, while neglecting whether they even want or need to be “saved”. In doing so, we disrespect their decision, deprive them of their autonomy and dignity. Our ignorance and feeling of supremacy did not vanish with the decolonisation; we merely veil it by feigning charity. The question we should ask instead is: Is it ethical to contact them at all?
