Carta ¿apócrifa? de Chief Seattle al Presidente Franklin Pierce

Alguna vez en la secundaria leí ésta carta, la recordaba mucho y la había intentado encontrar en la red varias veces pero no se me ocurrían las palabras clave necesarias para dar con ella. Hoy por fin lo logré, así que se las comparto. Pero antes les van unos pocos de antecedentes para que sepan de que se trata y porqué ¿apócrifa?.

Chief Seattle era el lider de las tribus nativas americanas Suquamish y Duwamish que habitaban en el estado de Washington. A finales del siglo 19 los blancos querían quitarles sus tierras para establecer grandes ciudades y mandar a los indios a las reservas que se habían desarrollado para ellos. Por supuesto los indios se rehusaron y los blancos eventualmente recurrieron a la fuerza y terminaron por desplazarlos.

Chief Seattle dió un discurso en una reunión convocada por el governador del estado para discutir la expropiación o venta de las tierras. Alguien transcribió este discurso, sin embargo los historiadores no creen mucho en la fidelidad de la traducción e incluso dudan que el discurso se haya dado. La carta que a continuación les transcribo tiene el mismo problema y algunos historiadores la consideran "un artefacto no histórico creado por la imaginación literaria y fértil de alguien".

Sea algo que escribió Chief Seattle o no, la primera vez que yo leí esta carta me impactó y consideré al que lo escribió como alguien sabio y con una gran visión del mundo y la vida. Un poco de esa sabiduría y esa visión es lo que le hace falta a los líderes políticos, económicos y religiosos de este mundo.

Chief Seattle - Letter to the President 1855

The President in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land. But how can you buy or sell the sky? The land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you buy them?

Every part of this earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore, every mist in the dark woods, every humming insect. All are holy in the memory and experience of my people.

We know the sap that courses through the trees as we know the blood that courses through our veins. We are part of the earth as it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters. The bear, the deer, the great eagle these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the juices in the meadow, the body heat of the pony, and man, all belong to the same family.

The shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not just water, but the blood of our ancestors. If we sell you our land, you must remember that it is sacred. Each ghostly reflection in the clear waters of the lakes tell of events and memories in the life of my people. The water's murmur is the voice of my father's father.

The rivers are our brothers. They quench our thirst. They carry our canoes and feed our children. So you must give to the rivers the kindness you would give to any brother.

If we sell you our land, remember that the air is precious to us, that the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports. The wind that gave our grandfather his first breath also receives his last sigh. The wind also gives our children the spirit of life. So if we sell you our land, you must keep it apart and sacred, as a place where man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow flowers.

Will you teach your children what we have taught our children? That the earth is our mother? What befalls the earth befalls all the sons of the earth.

This we know: the earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life, he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.

One thing we know; our God is your God. The earth is precious to him and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its creator.

Your destiny is a mystery to us. What will happen when the buffalo are all slaughtered? The wild horses tamed? What will happen when the secret corners of the forest are heavy with the scent of many men and the ripe hills is blotted by talking wires? Where will the thicket be? Gone! Where will the eagle be? Gone! And what is it to say good-bye to the swift pony and hunt? The end of living and the beginning of survival.

When the last Red Man has vanished with his wilderness and his memory is only the shadow of a cloud moving across a prairie, will these shores and forests still be here? Will there be any of the spirit of my people left?

We love this earth as a newborn loves its mother's heartbeat. So, if we sell you our land, love it as we have loved it. care for it as we have cared for it. Hold in your mind the memory of the land as it is when you receive it. Preserve the land for all children and love it, as God loves us all.

As we are part of the land, you too are part of the land. This earth is precious to us. It is also precious to you. One thing we know: there is only one God. No man, be he Red Man or White Man, can be apart. We are brothers after all.