Mapuñuke, leaf witnesses / FLORENCIA GRISANTI & TITO GONZALEZ GARCIA by Les Rencontres de la photographie, Arles

HOYVN IÑCHIÑ

Foreword Journey into Lafkenche territory

by /

Tito González García & Florencia Grisanti

To print a picture is to let photographic chemistry be the intermediary link between photographer and photographic subject. It is also to avoid the perfect image, to interpret mistakes, to let nature bring order to the landscape of a portrait. In these photographs, order lives alongside chaos, and the two are mutually dependent. They are the chemical and poetical metaphor for harmony between the elements, which can only coexist as long as a complementary opposite, irreducible and absolutely essential, lives alongside them: the moon and the sun, day and night, the old man and the youth, sickness and health. If someone were to look down on southern Chile, in the Americas, from the sky, they would see a scene that was at once beautiful and disturbing: a large piece of green land. It is the introduced pine and eucalyptus forests, where centuries ago there would have been a great variety of colours. In the very place where biotechnology is today being used to produce cellulose, the Mapuche people have been living for centuries – since long before the massive fires set by colonists in the 19th century and the subsequent arrival of the forestry industry in Chile. In these vast forests of mostly cloned trees, today two different visions of the world live tensely alongside one another: one based on the global market economy and the exploitation of natural resources, and the other, which sees our relationship with the environment as a spiritual matter. Between these two worlds and in the context of world-affecting climate change, the medicinal plants used by generations of the Mapuche community are under threat through lack of water and the transformation of their habitat. They have witnessed first-hand an infinite cycle of construction and destruction. To understand the concept of territory from the perspective of the precarious existence of these plants is to go to the very nub of the political and ecological problems that the Mapuche and Chileans are protagonists in. The work that features on the pages of this book was begun more than five years ago and has changed as time set the pace and we went with it. It is the fruit of a collaboration between different people, from different backgrounds, who do different jobs and hold different beliefs. We decided to put plants here at the centre of our investigation, and it is from their perspective that we chose to observe the different actors who inhabit a specific territory and how they relate to one another. The plants that you will see on these pages live, lived or would live – if man had not transformed the landscape – in the Mapuche territory, to the south of the Biobío River. For us as Chileans, deciding to get to know Mapuche culture, its sacred plants and the forestry industry meant being prepared to launch ourselves towards that irreducible opposite, to glimpse the light and discover darkness, to see that ultimately this ‘I’ is one thing and at the same time something else. Rimbaud wrote ‘I is another… because today I am wood and perhaps tomorrow I’ll be a violin…’, but in both cases I am at the same time both wood and violin. We photographed this cohabitation of ‘native’ in opposition to Western. Here, we ran the risk of polarising some opposites that today are partly complementary, and worse still, we risked giving a romantic view of the ‘indigenous’ so typical of Western interpretations. However, we were interested in highlighting the issue of polarisation. Polarising the spiritual and the economic. Public and private. Polarising everything into two, as if this were a by-product of the creation of the countries of America which were born out of the confrontation between what was already there and what came in. If that wound has not healed, we have to live with it. This book and the photographs in it show what we saw on numerous trips, and describe how plants and human beings relate to one another in a particular area and how the extinction of the former could result in the loss of part of the cultural heritage of the latter. The case of the Mapuche medicinal plants that we are focusing on is one specific example, but it is one which epitomises hundreds of other similar cases around the world. Indigenous medicinal plants and non-native trees introduced by the forestry industry are both part of the landscape of southern Chile. The political issue relating to the so-called ‘Mapuche conflict’ is focused exclusively on land recovery. However, we witnessed how difficult it was to find Mapuche medicinal plants in that area, which opened our eyes to other aspects of territorial change. We wanted to find out about the threats to the plants posed by the environmental changes brought about by the free-market economy. We wanted to talk about the territory as an objective space where plants live alongside different species, people and ways of thinking. All these differences are visible on the land like a scar or distinguishing mark on the skin of a living being. The territory needed to be photographed the way you see it on the way south: an apparently endless green carpet of pine and eucalyptus. A forestry plantation is not a forest. However, a plantation is a powerful sink for atmospheric carbon dioxide, and it is important to retain large areas of trees in different parts of the world so they keep producing oxygen. There was a supreme piece of irony in New York as part of the UN-organised Climate Week in 2019 when an award was presented to President Sebastián Piñera of Chile for his ‘innovative leadership in tackling climate change’. In Chile, forestry companies are legally obliged to keep 25% of their assets in conservation areas made up of native forest. Chile is known for this. Thus the endless green carpet is 75% forestry plantation. Plantations are private space, although the climatic benefits of forestry plantations are praised for their public good. The borderline between public and private interests is not always clear-cut. We saw Chilean state police looking after the security of the logging companies, meaning that public money from Chilean taxpayers was paying for the protection of

private interests. Not that it wasn’t needed, since there is large-scale wood trafficking in this part of the country. But a police officer with two bosses could make mistakes. The alliance seemed surprising, coming as it did from companies that historically have made the distinction between public and private in a very forceful manner. It was 2018, and the biggest Chilean police corruption scandal (Operation Hurricane) had just erupted, which exposed the fact that the armed forces and the forces of order were operating in the interests of private companies, fabricating crimes with the aim of sending Mapuche leaders to prison without any justification. The Chilean forestry industry came into being to solve the problem of erosion caused by the uninterrupted burning of millions of hectares of native forest for over 50 years at the end of the 19th century to plant wheat. So the forestry industry was a strictly technical, productivist and privatising solution to a much broader historical and cultural problem. If we were going to talk about medicinal plants in this book, we needed to talk about introduced forests. If we were going to talk about introduced forests, we needed to photograph the cellulose industry from within. We wanted to find out how industrial forestry worked, from the origins of the trees, through forestry plantations and the later timber harvesting and cellulose extraction. We all use wood in different forms and at different times of the day. As photographers we display our works on paper and pay whatever is necessary to get the best. These words that we’re reading in this book are on a sheet of paper that is most likely recycled but which would otherwise be produced using Oregon pine. In China, they’re making textiles from eucalyptus, and plastic bags are disappearing from supermarkets for environmental reasons and being replaced by paper bags. In winter, people in the south of Chile all heat their houses using firewood, and they build them using plywood if not other more expensive woods. No one could say that the forestry industry does not help in the daily lives of millions of people, but it is clear that regulating its production is the daily preoccupation of many governmental and non-governmental organisations. A forestry plantation is essentially a uniform artificial landscape without any ecological mechanisms, meaning that it is without any other ecosystem strata and in particular without fauna. Each Pinus radiata (Monterey pine) and eucalyptus is a kind of artefact created by man, and straddles the line between technology and nature. In a biotechnology laboratory belonging to one of the big groups in the timber industry specialising in paper pulp we found out that the very same year that Piñera received his award from the UN, a pine or eucalyptus forest of more than a million hectares could fit in a room measuring 3m2. How was that possible? Because cells from the best seeds, themselves selected from the best trees, are being reproduced ad infinitum through cloning. Grown in biologically assisted environments, in infinitely small spaces prior to being transplanted into hothouses, the 3.9 million hectares of forest in southern Chile is in fact made up of trees that are in reality ‘twins’. From this perspective, what the companies call ‘forest assets’ are no more than a controlled landscape devoted to timber harvesting, with little biodiversity and less genetic diversity. The medicinal plants photographed in this book cannot live in this landscape, since they need a soil that is populated by bacteria, microscopic fungi, yeasts and millions of invertebrates that work away feeding the soil in an intrinsic association with water courses. Through lack of water, the land becomes sterile, and whether as a consequence of forestry plantations or climate change, the fact is that south of the Biobío, drought is a recurring problem. In 2018 we decided to work in colour, using large 4x5 inch format negatives, to photograph the trees. This format was used over a number of decades to photograph technology, architecture and machinery. It was a format that showed off the technical developments invented by man and had applications only in a professional context. We used it to take photographs of forests that are not open to the public, since they are considered by their owners much like technology, architecture or machinery. In Chile, meanwhile, on 14 November 2018, the police entered the village of Temucuicui in pursuit of some supposed criminals, and in cold blood, murdered Camilo Catrillanca, a young 24-year-old Mapuche activist. The Minister of the Interior and the governor of the Araucanía region, appointed by President Sebastián Piñera, would offer the most shameful spectacle in the history of diplomacy between the Chilean state and the Mapuche community: after lying to the entire country for several days, they had to acknowledge publicly that the police had lied to them and had killed by mistake. It had all been filmed on a GoPro camera carried by one of the special forces police officers, and the news quickly spread on social media. Thus 2019 began with palpable tension in the air. But somehow something had happened in public opinion which would change views about the conflict. Chile was preparing for a social revolution, and the Mapuche were becoming a symbol of injustice and inequality. The authorities were not coming out of it well, and they were going to have to respond. At the same time, there was the 50th anniversary of the first man setting foot on the moon. Some historians believe that that moment (in 1969) would mark the beginning of western environmentalist movements in international politics, which had taken root at the beginning of the ’60s and become more radicalised between the ’70s and ’80s, just through the simple fact of the earth being viewed from outside. One photograph that would change attitudes: a blue circle lost in an inky blackness. A fragile piece of rock floating in the universe. If someone were to look down on southern Chile from the sky, they would see 2.87 million hectares of pine and eucalyptus forests planted geometrically for human use. An official figure, whose accuracy only someone looking down on the earth from the sky would be able to verify. What is incontestable is that in 2019 another NASA image would scar the world: red dots which indicated that the Amazon rainforests were burning on a large scale, and which would be another blow to our consciences. Who knows how many more such blows we will have to take in order to understand the importance of our relationship with the environment and to be aware of our place in the

cosmos. It is interesting to note that different photographic and audiovisual formats have played their part in history in creating political, social and environmental awareness. To photograph people, we chose to work with a photographic technique dating from 1851 using glass plates. We knew that machis (shamans) were reluctant to be photographed, and we thought that if we used such a complicated technique (one requiring at least two hours to take a single photo, and also a mobile darkroom and a camera obscura), anyone who agreed to be photographed must be doing it entirely willingly. The technique made it clear that we were not there to steal photographs, nor to shoot hundreds of images, since the type of camera does not allow you to see the image during the taking of the photograph. In other words, the photographee is alone with the camera, and the photographer remains outside. If they agreed, they could each choose how they wanted to be photographed and would spend a day with us. The Mapuche are not an indigenous people lost in the origins of time who have been overtaken by the industrialisation of their landscape. Instead, they are changing with the different cultural contexts, and we wanted to investigate the complexity of their identity. We began with a number of trips to the Lafkenche territory in southern Chile. As a community, the Lafkenche belong to the Mapuche people (made up of different communities on either side of the Andes mountains). They populated the south of America, from sea to sea, between the Atlantic and the Pacific, in what are now known as Argentina and Chile. There machis (shamans from those different communities) still practise traditional medicine, and the use of medicinal plants is knowledge that is passed down from generation to generation through peumas (dreams), and it has been like this for hundreds of years, or perhaps more. We wanted to understand the relationship of these doctors with plants, and between plants and people today and how they are used daily. Our other intention – a more personal one – was to understand why we Chileans knew nothing about the Mapuche, who make up 10% of the population of our country. At school, we were taught some history from a Chilean perspective, but nothing about their customs nor their cosmogony. When we started, it was 2014, the Chilean government was enforcing the antiterrorist law, Matias Catrileo had been killed, tension between the state and the Mapuche communities was high following the Luchsinger-Mackay case, and every week there was talk about forestry company lorries being burned, supposedly by Mapuche groups, who were demanding the right to reclaim ancestral lands. In January 2015, on the first of these trips, we met señora Helena, a machi who was unable to practise her medicine and her rituals since to do this she needs to have her own piece of land where she can erect a rewe (ceremonial space with branches of sacred trees and a wooden totem in its centre). Not a small rented house without land in the centre of Puerto Saavedra, as was her situation. Without a rewe, a machi cannot get in touch with cosmic energies, and therefore cannot make his or her plant-based remedies. Only a machi can ‘elevate’ (officially grant machi status in the community to) another machi, but would not do this if the latter did not have some land with its ceremonial space. We realised much later that Puerto Saavedra, the name of the town where machi Helena lived, was in itself a relic of Chile’s violent historic hegemony towards Mapuche history. Saavedra was the surname of the general in charge of the ‘Pacification of Araucanía’. This is the name given in the history books to the forced annexation into the state of Chile of the free Mapuche territory in the second half of the 19th century. Cornelio Saavedra Rodríguez enriched himself by acquiring many hectares of fertile land in the territory that he had conquered in the name of the Republic with cannon fire and threats. He would end up as ‘Landowner-Senator’ for the area where he had seized his lands and put them into large-scale wheat production: Carelmapu, Nacimiento, Angol, Ñuble, Lebu… This was not written about in the history books we read at school either. We met at the Puerto Saavedra public hospital where there was an intercultural medicine programme in which any patient could be treated by a machi between 8am and 2pm, Monday to Friday. These consultations can be paid for using Fonasa (the Chilean public social security system). The machis who work at the hospital are paid by the state, but they have to supply the lawen (remedy, plant-based preparation) themselves, without receiving any funding for the preparations or for their time preparing them. The public hospital required doctors to supply plants they had harvested themselves, without asking themselves exactly how the plants came to be there or where they came from or even if they were becoming scarce. Everyone agreed that it was becoming more and more difficult to find them. One of the machis whom we were lucky enough to meet and photograph had given up work because, at over 80 years old, she could no longer go and find plants, and for that reason was no longer able to provide the hospital with the necessary remedies every month. So that was when we became interested in finding out where all those species capable of curing people came from. We met a machi from Lake Budi who did not work at the hospital (as many of them do), who introduced us to a nephew who was authorised to find plants for him. So there were ‘remedy hunters’ who worked with the machis. Ngen-Lawén, the spirit of medicinal plants, allows – after his permission has been asked – the remedy to be pulled out of the earth and given its healing power. This must be done before midday, with only the amount needed being taken, and with enough always being left to allow it to continue reproducing. In Nueva Imperial (a town near Temuco, the capital of Araucanía) we found out that a hothouse for growing medicinal plants for the intercultural medicine programme had been set up, but all the machis told us that the power of a plant was stronger if it were picked where it grows naturally. A hothouse was a major step, but it wasn’t the answer. After a few weeks, we finally managed to take our first photograph. We also decided to take a photograph of the evangelical community. That branch of Protestantism, brought in from the United States, was taking on the Chilean state, and could be found everywhere where the latter was absent. It reached the most remote places. It entered every family, every community. In each community we saw churches going up, and it was establishing a firm

base all over Araucanía. The Mapuche made a clear distinction between Protestants and Catholics. The former had not invaded America. The former had not killed their forefathers nor raped their wives. They had not burned down their cities in the course of colonisation. The question remained whether the evangelicals were effectively preventing the Mapuche from speaking their language, praying to their gods and keeping up their customs. Additionally, we photographed the last Mapuche Catholic nuns. The Discalced Carmelites in Imperial, the Franciscan Sisters in Chol-Chol; the Missionary Sisters of the Catechism in Boroa. In each of these congregations we found incredibly strong women possessed of deep powers of social analysis who were Mapuche and had often had to do battle both with their congregational sisters (on account of being ‘Indian’) and with their families (for having chosen to become catholic nuns). In each of these communities, the nuns also grew medicinal plants of the region and had a strong connection with the land. Finally, we photographed young Mapuche from the world of hip-hop who mainly lived in Santiago. We encountered them all thanks to the help of Waikil and his Wetruwe Producciones [Productions] label. He was making some important video recordings of Mapuche Rap on YouTube. We could see that these were the current guarantors of the language for hundreds of thousands of Mapuche who had emigrated to the capital in the second half of the 20th century and who, so as not to fall victim to the racism of Chilean society, had stopped passing down their customs and their language to their descendants. Now it was those young rappers who were proudly taking up the study of Mapudungan to use it as the rallying flag of a new generation recovering its origins. In their texts there were always references to territory, plants, rivers, birds. Listening to Mapuche rap allowed us to hear from a contemporary perspective how important the emotional and day-to-day experience with plants is, and how plants carry with them stories and are the vehicles of a very ancient cultural inheritance. As Alexander Von Humboldt was already warning back at the beginning of the 1800s, we need to understand that climate change comes in part as a consequence of man-made industry. Whether it is deforestation of the Amazon to raise cattle in Brazil, or reforestation of southern Chile to make paper, it is part of the same process: producing something on a large scale. Producing it in large quantities because man needs it. It is clear that it is catering for needs on such a scale, rather than the products themselves, that is driving changes to the climate. It is not a matter either of meat or of wood but of the amounts of it taken and left if it is to continue to exist. Just as when a machi goes to gather plants for medicinal use and only takes what is required and leaves enough for them to go on growing naturally. Who then decides on the amount that is needed for something that is ‘necessary’? And why have states not kept an objective distance, and why do they go on defending industrialisation without questioning production strategies? It is important to stop and think about how we have come to consume so much and how we have therefore so massively transformed the land without anything stopping us decade after decade. Economic growth is responsible for this transformation of the world’s ecosystems, and we are responsible for consuming what the market has to offer us. We need to take a stand individually and collectively in the face of present-day production policies.

MAPUÑUKE CH

Leaf Witnesses

HOYVN IÑCHIÑ by /

Ritual Inhabitual: Tito González García & Florencia Grisanti

Foye. Canelo. Drimys winteri Winteraceae

Nosotros los Mapuche No creemos en la muerte Creemos en una vida paralela, no material, sino espiritual. Antonio Paillafil Rewe y escultor Chemamull. Grabaciones registradas entre Santiago de Chile y el lago Budi (2015)

We, Mapuche We do not believe in death We believe in a parallel life, not material, but spiritual.

Nous, Mapuches Nous ne croyons pas en la mort Nous croyons en une vie parallèle non matériel, mais spirituel.

Antonio Paillafil. Rewe and Chemamull sculptor. Recordings registered between Santiago de Chile and Budi lake (2015)

Antonio Paillafil. Rewe et le sculpteur Chemamull. Enregistrements enregistrés entre Santiago du Chili et le lac Budi (2015)

ALVARITO PANCHILLO Comunidad Romopulli, 2015

Sor AUDINA HUENUMILLA Misión Boroa. Almagro, 2016

TOTEM Entrada a Puerto Saavedra, 2016

Koly mamüll. Arrayan. Luma apiculata Myrtaceae

Tr e u m i ñ . N o t r o ó C i r u e l i l l o . Embothrium coccineum Proteaceae

MC MILLARAY Rapera Mapuche Mapuche Rapper Rappeur Mapuche Santiago de Chile, 2019

HUGO PAINEPAN Consejero. Iglesia Metodista Pentecostal Adviser. Pentecostal Methodist Church Conseiller. Eglise méthodiste pentecôtiste Isla Huapi, 2016

ANDRÉS PAILLALEO Iglesia Metodista Pentecostal Pentecostal Methodist Church Eglise méthodiste pentecôtiste Isla Huapi, 2016

A i m p e . B l e ch n u m c o r d a t u m B l e ch n a c e a e

PUKUTRIÑUQUE Mapuche Rap crew Santiago de Chile, 2017

49 Falko. Hierba de pasmo. Francoa appendiculata Melianthaceae

OSCAR ANTILEF Rapero Mapuche Mapuche Rapper Rappeur Mapuche Santiago de Chile, 2016

Sor AUDINA HUENUMILLA Misión Boroa. Almagro, 2016

REINALDO JARA MARIBUR Valle Eikura, 2019

ANA MILLALEO Rapera Mapuche Mapuche Rapper Rappeur Mapuche Wechekeche Crew Santiago de Chile, 2016

CHICHA CON HARINA Rapero Mapuche Mapuche Rapper Rappeur Mapuche Santiago de Chile, 2016

Tal vez la gente acepta el evangelio, porque ni en su propia religión pudieron encontrar solucion a sus problemas. Uno puede ser de una cultura, pero estamos todos en el mundo, y el mal lo gobierna, y las soluciones que hay en nuestro pueblo, no nos satisfacen, no son capaces de controlar el mal que abruma a las familias. Es por esa razon que uno tiende a probar. Yo probe, y segui a mi papá, y escuché a varias Machis darnos los mismos diagnosticos, pero que puede hacer uno que quiere vivir… Ministro Audilio Painepan. Conversación en su Iglesia Metodista Pentecostal Isla Huapi (2016)

Maybe people accept the gospel, because nor in their own religion could they find a solution to your problems. One can be of a culture, but we are all in the world, and evil rules it, and the solutions that exist in our town, not they satisfy us, they are not able to control the bad that overwhelms families. It is for that reason that one tends to try. I probe, and followed my Dad, and listen to several Machis give us the same diagnoses, but what can one do? we want to live...

Peut-être que les gens acceptent l'évangile, parce que pas même dans leur propre religion pourraient-ils trouver une solution à vos problèmes On peut être d'une culture, mais nous sommes tous dans le monde et le mal le gouverne, et les solutions qui sont dans notre ville, nous ne le faisons pas satisfaire, ne sont pas capables de contrôler le mal Cela accable les familles. C’est pour cette raison qu’un Tend à essayer. J'ai essayé et suivi mon père et écouté à plusieurs Machis nous donnent les mêmes diagnostics, mais que peut-on faire qui veut vivre ...

Minister Audilio Painepan. Ministre Audilio Painepan. Conversation in his su Methodist Pentecostal Church Conversation dans son église méthodiste Huapi island (2016) pentecôtiste. Huapi Island (2016)

Frokin. Cadillos. Acaena argentea Rosaceae

AUDILIO PAINEPAN Ministro. Iglesia Metodista Pentecostal Minister. Pentecostal Methodist Church Ministre. Eglise méthodiste pentecôtiste Isla Huapi, 2016

FELIPE PAILLALEO ANTONIETA PAILLALEO CONSTANZA PAILLALEO Piedra Alta, 2016

Sor TOMASA HUICHAQUEO Congregación de las Hermanas de la Santa Cruz Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Cross Congrégation des Soeurs de la Sainte Croix Temuco, 2016

JAIME CUYANAO “WAIKIL” Rapero Mapuche Mapuche Rapper Rappeur Mapuche Santiago de Chile, 2016

ARAUCARIA ARAUCANA Valle Elicura, 2015

VALENTINA CURÍN & KALFULLUFKEN PAILLAFILU Raperos Mapuche Mapuche Rappers Rappeurs Mapuche Wechekeche Crew Santiago de Chile, 2016

NATALY PAILLAFILU & ALEJANDRA PAILLAFILU Raperos Mapuche Mapuche Rappers Rappeurs Mapuche Wechekeche Crew Santiago de Chile, 2016

Te m u . B l e p h a r o c a l y x c r u c k s h a n k s i i M y r t a c e a e

JAIME CUYANAO “WAIKIL” Rapero Mapuche Mapuche Rappers Rappeur Mapuche Santiago de Chile, 2019

ARAUCARIA ARAUCANA Alrededores de la cordillera Nahuelbuta Surroundings of the Nahuelbuta mountain range Environs de la chaîne de montagnes Nahuelbuta 2015

HUGO PAINEPAN Consejero. Iglesia Metodista Pentecostal Adviser. Pentecostal Methodist Church Conseiller. Eglise méthodiste pentecôtiste Isla Huapi, 2016

RODRIGO JARA MARIBUR Valle Elikura, 2019

KAREN HUENTÉN Iglesia Metodista Pentecostal Pentecostal Methodist Church Eglise méthodiste pentecôtiste Isla Huapi, 2016

ALISON ABIMELEC PAINEPAN Iglesia Metodista Pentecostal Pentecostal Methodist Church Eglise méthodiste pentecôtiste Isla Huapi, 2016

LAURA CATRILEO Iglesia Metodista Pentecostal Pentecostal Methodist Church Eglise méthodiste pentecôtiste Isla Huapi, 2016

GENESIS PAINEPAN Iglesia Metodista Pentecostal Pentecostal Methodist Church Eglise méthodiste pentecôtiste Isla Huapi, 2016

Raperos Mapuche Mapuche Rappers Rappeurs Mapuche Pukutriñuque Crew Santiago de Chile, 2017

La tradición para mi, en todos los pueblos, en todos los países, pesa… No por ser tradición va a ser algo totalmente positivo. Yo cuando me vine a la congregación, lo primero que me dijeron es que me había echo Winka (blanco). Yo seguí participando de las oraciones, los gillatunes, pero me dolia un poco…Yo observe mucho. Herede eso de mi papa, mirar, observar, escuchar. La tradición hace que este pueblo este en una sola parte. La gente es tradicionalista y para mi la tradición muchas veces invita a morir. Hermana Audina Huenumilla Conversación en Misión Boroa. Marzo, 2016

The tradition for me, in all the towns, in all the countries, it weights… It’s not going to be a tradition something totally positive. When I came to the congregation, the first thing they told me it was that I had echoed Winka (white). I kept participating in the prayers, the gillatunes, but it hurt a little ... I observed a lot. I inherited that from my dad, look, observe, listen. Tradition makes this town this in one part, the people are traditionalist and for me tradition many times invites to die.

La tradition pour moi, dans toutes les villes, dans tous les pays, ça pèse… Ce ne sera pas une tradition totalement positive. Quand je suis arrivé à la congrégation, la première chose qu'ils m'ont dite, c'est que j'avais fait écho à Winka (blanc). Je continuais à participer aux prières, aux gillatunes, mais ça me faisait un peu mal… J'ai beaucoup observé. J'ai hérité de ça de mon père, regarde, observe, écoute. La tradition fait de cette ville une partie, les gens sont traditionalistes et pour moi, la tradition invite plusieurs fois à mourir.

Sister Audina Huenumilla Conversation in Boroa mission. March, 2016

Soeur Audina Huenumilla Conversation dans la mission de Boroa. Mars 2016

Sor JOSELYN PALMA Consejera. Congregación de Misioneros Franciscanos Counselor. Congregation of Franciscan Missionaries Conseiller. Congrégation des Missionnaires Franciscains Iglesia Chol-Chol, 2016

HERNÁN JARA MARIBUR Activista medioambiental Environmental activist Activiste environnemental Valle Elikura, 2019

PAUL FILUTRARU Rapero Mapuche Mapuche Rapper Rappeur Mapuche Wechekeche Crew Santiago de Chile. 2016

ELÍAS PAINEQUEO Iglesia Metodista Pentecostal Pentecostal Methodist Church Eglise méthodiste pentecôtiste Isla Huapi, 2016

Chillim. Perlilla del agua Nertera granadensis Rubiaceae

¿What is Mapuche about hip-hop. The case of Chicha con Harina

From a conversation between, Chicha con Harina, Erwin Quintupil and Jacob Rekedal. Essay by Jacob Rekedal, February 2018.

You all who are experts in music history, colors, traits, stories, sayings and documents laws and unwritten events photography, letters and poetry you who know about herbs and write about chordophones and seeds you don’t know that my manta is populated with stars . . . Erwin Quintupil, excerpt from “Texto para los ‘ólogos’ y sus semejantes” (Text for the ‘ologists’ and people like them) Unpublished poem, 2010 “El rap hace trabajar la mente” (Rap makes the mind work). This is how the well-known Mapuche rap artist Chicha con Harina responded when I asked him in 2016 about the commonalities between rap and ülkantun, the ancestral verbal art form of the Mapuche. We had first met in 2010, at a backyard barbeque in Temuco. Near that date, the video for his self-titled song, “Chicha con Harina,” had appeared online. (Currently it has hundreds of thousands of views.) I learned about this phenomenal piece of music back when it was fresh, through a social media post by another Mapuche hip-hop artist, who commented, “¡Este es mi peñi!” (This is my brother!). The video is remarkable: it fuses hip-hop sounds almost reminiscent of the gangsta era, with images of the artist’s campo (countryside, or farm), where he and his peñi y lamgen (brothers and sisters) are preparing and drinking chicha, a traditional fermented beverage common all around South America, in this case made with local apples. Chicha con harina, la tomo y doy el cien [por ciento], Sin chicha yo no vivo, eres mi lawen, Sáquele primero, mi weichan newen, Comparto con los paisa, peñis y lamgen Chicha con harina, I drink it and get strength, Without chicha I don’t live, you are my remedy, Serve yourself first, my guest, for your health, I share it with the countryfolk, brothers and sisters Harina refers to harina tostada (toasted wheat), a rich, healthful substance invented by the Mapuche. The elixir is, literally, liquid strength, with its nutritive properties and touch of alcohol. Chicha con Harina, the musician (I will refer to him as Chicha), opens minds and hearts to the contemporary experience of the Mapuche, one of the Southern Cone’s most populous indigenous groups, by rapping about a way of life that honors tradition, wisdom and ancestry, which is not to say orthodoxy. His music transmits various elements that are inherently Mapuche, but also obligates anyone in search of the authentic indigenous roots of hip-hop to rethink preexisting assumptions. In this way, Mapuche rappers like Chicha con Harina—consider also Waikil, Luanko Minuto Soler, Antülef, and Coñoman, among other artists—fulfill an important role: they are bearers of their culture, undoubtedly, but also teachers to the world about culture in general, and how it works. Backdrop of a musical movement

Many consider Mapuche hip-hop to have started in the mid-1980s with members of an intercultural (Mapuche and Chilean) community organization in Temuco called the Brocas de las Naquis, whose name is street slang for "Cabros de la Esquina” or “Kids from the Corner.” The Brocas originally consisted of about sixty youth in the campamento (encampment) of Lanín, in the heart of Temuco’s roughest sector, Pedro de Valdivia. The entire city, for its part, is surrounded by the rural area from which great numbers of Mapuche families have migrated over many decades. Among various positive activities oriented toward urban youth, the group practiced palín (a Mapuche sport similar to hockey), artesanía, music, and ecological conservation. Hip-hop was a favorite pursuit, and it even made the Brocas famous for a time, although today few people seem to remember them. In 1989, from the Brocas de las Naquis sprang what is quite possibly the first bona fide Mapuche hiphop group, Weichafe Newen (Force of the Warrior, in Mapuzugun), led by former Broca Jano Weichafe (Jano the Warrior). Throughout the 1990s, an interesting relationship also developed between Mapuche culture and hip-hop more broadly, exemplified in the music of Chilean groups like the Panteras Negras (Black Panthers), or in the publication of pro-Mapuche sentiments in the short-lived but fascinating magazine Kultura Hip-hop. During the 2000s, a younger generation of Mapuche rappers in Temuco and neighboring Padre las Casas, including Gran Massay, Wenu Mapu, and Kolectivo We Newen (New Force Kolective), began making an impact with their music and activism. Through albums, documentaries, performances, forums, workshops and marches, Kolectivo We Newen has labored tirelessly on various issues, including (to name just two) the disproportionate application of Chile’s antiterror legislation to cases involving the Mapuche, and the successful campaign to designate Mapuzugun as an official language in Padre las Casas. During the same period, Wechekeche Ñi Trawün (Gathering of Youth) formed in Santiago, featuring rappers such as Waikil and Luanko, who are now major solo artists. A more complete description of this musical movement is the ongoing topic of my work as an ethnomusicologist and admirer of hip-hop. Chicha con Harina is one of various lyricists that have appeared in recent years, applying the clear-headed expressions of hip-hop to the inherited wisdom of their culture, to impart singular messages relevant to these (post)modern times, for listeners Mapuche or otherwise. Chicha con Harina Chicha, or Don Chicha, as some call him, extends a type of hospitality to his visitors and friends that is characteristic of people living in the rural south, in what is historically Mapuche territory (although the territory also has its urban areas). Fast-forward to September of 2016, and I visited him at his home near Freire, out in the countryside south of Temuco. We shared a memorable conversation, also joined by Erwin Quintupil, a close friend who is a poet and another unique personality from the region. Beyond the words exchanged, I was struck by the beauty of the surroundings: that campo in the comunidad (Mapuche community) of Lliuco Chico, where Chicha grew up, with a large, well-tended huerta (garden), bearing fresh strawberries, legumes, and a variety of other things. Ducks and chickens meandered near the house, which sits among tall trees, and has a wooden footbridge extending from the back patio across a lagoon brimming with life. What’s more, his campo is a storehouse of memories, from the time when he lived there as a child, to the period in adolescence when he lived in the city and visited only sporadically, to his eventual return, with a new mindset. As an adolescent, Chicha participated in the budding hip-hop scene in Temuco, and began to experiment with visual arts. As a young adult, he returned to the campo to live with his grandmother, at which point he took seriously his calling in hip-hop, with her unlikely guidance. His home reflects these processes, bearing hip-hop graffiti that blends remarkably well with the rural surroundings.

Erwin, who hails from another comunidad, Saltapura, asked about the rapper’s first contact with music. Chicha responded that several things stand out from his early memories: As a child he was always brought to the nguillatún ceremonies in the area, which are large, periodic events honoring the earth and its fertility, involving the participation of multiple comunidades. A nguillatún typically includes both spiritual and non-spiritual contexts for music, and it is likely that he first heard Mapuche music in a sustained way at such events. He also recalled that electricity had arrived to his area only in recent years, and that during his childhood he listened to the radio a pilas (radio with batteries). This device introduced him to popular music, and especially Mexican-style ranchera, which had arrived with force to the southern countryside decades earlier at the hands of disc jockeys playing foreign hits, and local musicians proficient in the style. It was “pura velas y pilas” (all candles and batteries) in the countryside during his childhood. He added, “La ranchera fue como mi escuela” (The ranchera was like my school). This music imparted profound lessons about expressing sentiments, and about making music linked to rural life. Finally, his grandfather had sung in the Mapuche way, improvising ülkantun according to a wide range of contexts. Chicha regards ülkantun as a practice requiring a similar skill set to that of hiphop: among other things, attention to one’s surroundings, and the ability to improvise. Chicha explained his beginnings in hip-hop, upon his move to the city of Temuco, roughly in 1999: I began with painting, with graffiti, and tagging walls, during the years when [hip-hop] got started in Temuco, and in the region. That’s where my interest began. And after that, from graffiti I started to listen to the music that went with it, and I was really drawn to it. I started getting into the songs and the different topics they dealt with, their format, that natural-sounding expression, so to the bone, spontaneous. I got motivated, and I started to compose my first texts. He started by composing verses, which he later set to beats. Years passed before these initial efforts became full-fledged rap songs, of the quality they now represent. As he recounts, in order to perform and compose “with responsibility,” he had to mature, as did his material, and he had to integrate his music with his life in a significant way. It should be clear that these were years of perseverance. This was not something very easy for me at all. I suffered all kinds of things. My mother was opposed . . . my family members were opposed. These were the periods of my rebelliousness, when I went around with my pants hanging down, you know, tagging the walls, running off at night . . . all of that . . . [I was] rebellious at school, because I applied myself more to rap, more to going out to tokatas [music events] and to listening or writing music, than . . . to doing long division or reading. So there was also a lot of suffering along the way. But, as time went by, people started to understand, and they started to get the importance of all of this. For example, it was huge that my grandmother, who in the beginning was very opposed, or just didn’t like my music, eventually it was she, she, who supported me, you know what I mean? She liked the first video, “Chicha con Harina,” that shows the process of making chicha in the countryside. She was the primary person coordinating behind the scenes, with all the people that had to be here at the house, making food for afterwards . . . I lived here with her until 2012. She passed away, and I stayed on, until today. That process did not come easily, but in the long run, the connection to a supportive grandmother helped consolidate Chicha’s role as a rapper from the campo. When we asked the artist what made his grandmother take an interest in his music, he marveled at the whole thing, and responded that it must have been his ability to sing. By this he didn’t refer to a particularly melodic form of singing, but rather his process of developing songs related to the life they both cherished. He pointed to his room on the other side of the house, and said that he would

often be in there with his radio, working out songs. She would be over in the kitchen, listening to him as she went about things. There they were, just the two of them in the house, each doing different things, but tuned in to one another. Chicha started to compose a song about a bird common in the countryside, called the pidén. He explained his grandmother’s reaction to this song, and to “Chicha con Harina.” ‘El poder del pidén representa / El poder del pidén representa / Patitos al barro por la pega se alimenta / Piuee piuee se manifiesta’ (The power of the pidén represents / The power of the pidén represents / Feet in mud, looking for some food / Piuee piuee here he comes). She heard that song . . . and she laughed . . . and when she heard “Chicha con Harina” . . . it was amazing . . . [She would ask] “Where did this young guy get this ability?” And of course . . . like for any young person, Mapuzugun is difficult for me, but still in my songs I get my words out, with good pronunciation and everything, and I think she admired that. [Again, she would ask] “How did this kid wind up on this path?” Chicha told us that his grandmother was the monarca, the queen of the household, and that eventually he ran all of his plans by her, including the filming of the video for “Chicha con Harina,” in which she played a central role. Mapuche roots? Chicha noted that discussing his past wasn’t in his playbook, so to speak, for our conversation in 2016, which he had expected would revolve more around his career. Nonetheless, he delighted in talking about his grandmother. Erwin highlighted the importance of the topic of his upbringing and his connection to past generations: There’s a really important theme there, because if his grandmother connected with it, it’s because . . . there were codes in what he created, that were common, or that were comprehensible to her. She didn’t have to make any great effort to understand it . . . What’s important . . . I think that what he does . . . the kind of people that connect with it—I’m not referring to people from the city . . . but all the people that live in the country and that connect with what he does, it’s because of the lyrics, the text . . . I think that for his grandmother it was the same . . . The pidén is there—and there it is, playing around in the stream, singing over there, and over there [looks off in a different direction]—way off in Saltapura the same thing happens . . . we hear the pidén all over the place. It’s part of our everyday existence. So, to compose music about that bird [he laughs], just brilliant. It’s a bit like what the old folks did way back when . . . they improvised . . . If I were one of them, it’s likely that I would be singing about how our trip was to get out here . . . how it went, from there to here, what we did. Everything we talked about, we would have done it singing. That’s how it was . . . A greeting also could have been sung . . . the old folks just sang all the time. Even if his grandmother didn’t sing . . . surely she carried song within her, and she must have enjoyed when her husband sang. Chicha agreed wholeheartedly with these idea. Erwin, who is older and knows him well, continued: There must have been a connection between the life she led earlier, and the present . . . That’s why I say . . . that there’s a connection [with] ülkantun, even though he [Chicha] might not be conscious of it, because he did not necessarily have direct experiences with it during childhood. By contrast, I did hear people sing in my house. But I feel like there is a connection. In all likelihood, you [Jacob], as an ólogo, have a really hard time getting that . . . for any researcher it might be really difficult to arrive at an understanding of that connection, but for me it emerges naturally. Erwin also mentioned a friend in common who had commented about Chicha, that if he had learned Mapuzugun before Spanish, he would be an ülkantufe (specialist in ülkantun) instead of a rapper. Chicha thought this made perfect sense.

Is this authenticity? There is much to be said and much to be celebrated about Mapuche rappers who are at once developing a new area of music, and of hip-hop more broadly (which also includes visual art, among other facets), in tandem with traditional and contemporary aspects of their own culture. As a researcher, I have posed questions like, what does hip-hop tell us about Mapuche culture, and what does it offer to the Mapuche today? And, with what preexisting roles or practices in Mapuche culture do hip-hop and its elements correspond? On several occasions, people have asked me if Mapuche rappers tap into a different wellspring, one that emerges from centuries’ worth of orally transmitted knowledge and expressions. Naturally, as cultural outsiders we seek an encounter with the authentic—a concept deeply embedded in Western notions of culture, identity, folklore and artistic expression. On the other hand, neither Mapuche culture nor hip-hop culture share too much with Western culture(s), meaning that Westerners often read our own value-laden versions of authenticity onto them, at the expense of more meaningful lessons. Rather, we should let hip-hop and Mapuche culture guide us through their synthesis, on their own terms. Hip-hop, as exemplified in the video for “Chicha con Harina,” is a multi-form genre considered a culture unto itself. Hip-hop is not restricted to music, and its inherent fusion of things visual and sonic evinces multiple dimensions of Mapuche culture: musical sound, soundscape, the materials of rural work, key vocabulary from the Mapuzugun language, attire, posture, food, sense of place, and so on. The mix exceeds style, to depict a way of life imbued with musical and other types of meaning. The great Mapuche writer Pedro Cayuqueo commented in 2012 that the rural south, with all of its challenges, poverty, and conflict, resembles the “Bronx of the Mapuche” (2012). Chicha con Harina makes us understand this notion less in terms of social problems, and more in terms of limitless creative possibilities. Is this authenticity? Hip-hop teaches us that it doesn’t matter. Better said, this is truth, respect for the elders and the culture, and adaptation to new circumstances and audiences. This is continuity. Onstage Fast-forward once more, to February 2017, and Rapa Makewe, a large music festival on the outskirts of Temuco and Padre las Casas, then in its fourth iteration, and run entirely by the local Mapuche comunidad bearing the same name. The gathering has attracted a sizeable audience, as well as major artists ranging from Mapuche hip-hop phenom Luanko Minuto Soler, to classic Nueva Canción groups such as Inti-Illimani. Naturally, the festival closes with a late-night ranchera performance. Chicha con Harina took the stage on a drizzly Friday afternoon, accompanied by fellow lyricist Hugo Lagos Coliicoy. The audience bounced to the beat, as Chicha swaggered across the stage, waving one arm in the air as only he does. The lyrics boomed out over the open field in the middle of this comunidad in the rural south, with the confident force of an experienced rapper: El poder del pidén representa, El poder del pidén representa, Patitos al barro por la pega se alimenta Piuee piuee se manifiesta! Mapuche hip-hop has blossomed, and it is here to stay.

MC MILLARAY Rapera Mapuche Mapuche Rapper Rappeur Mapuche Santiago de Chile, 2019

Philesiaceæ

Lapageria rosea (Ruiz & Pav). Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_001. Collected on 18.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

84 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

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Lamiaceæ

Clinopodium multiflorum (Ruiz & Pav.) Kuntze. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_002. Collected on 18.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

86 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

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Ogranaceæ

Fuchsia magellanica Lam. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_003. Collected on 18.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

88 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

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Elaocarpaceæ

Aristotelia chilensis (Molina) Stuntz. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_004. Collected on 18.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

90 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

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Campanulaceæ

Lobelia tupa L. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_005. Collected on 18.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

92 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

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Myrtaceæ

Luma apiculata (DC.) Burret. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_006. Collected on 18.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

94 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

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Myrtaceæ

Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_007. Collected on 18.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

96 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.81 no detcelloC .700_LC_PF # cenneP.F

æecatryM

Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_008. Collected on 18.03.2016. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

98 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

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Alstroemeriaceæ

Luzuriaga radicans Ruiz & Pav. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_009. Collected on 18.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

100 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .vaP & ziuR snacidar agairuzuL sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.81 no detcelloC .900_LC_PF # cenneP.F

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101

Loranthaceæ

Tristerix corymbosus (L.) Kuijt. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_010. Collected on 18.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

102 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

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103

Fabaceæ

Senna stipulacea (Aiton) H.S. Irwin & Barneby. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_011. Collected on 19.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

104 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

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105

Rubiaceæ

Nertera granadensis (Mutis ex L.F.) Druce. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_012. Collected on 19.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

106 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .ecurD ).F.L xe situM( sisnedanarg aretreN sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.91 no detcelloC .210_LC_PF # cenneP.F

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107

Melianthaceæ

Francoa appendiculata Cav. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_013. Collected on 19.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

108 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .vaC atalucidneppa aocnarF sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.91 no detcelloC .310_LC_PF # cenneP.F

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109

Winteraceæ

Drimys winteri J.R. Forst & G. Forst. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_014. Collected on 19.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

110 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .tsroF .G & tsroF .R.J iretniw symirD sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.91 no detcelloC .410_LC_PF # cenneP.F

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111

Monimiaceæ

Peumus boldus Molina. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_015. Collected on 19.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

112 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .aniloM sudlob sumueP sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.91 no detcelloC .510_LC_PF # cenneP.F

æecaiminoM

113

Araliaceæ

Raukaua valdiviensis (Gay) Frodin. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_016. Collected on 19.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

114 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

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115

Proteaceæ

Embothrium coccineum J.R. Forst & G. Forst. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_017. Collected on 19.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

116 5 4 3 2 1

Plants and Knowledge of the Mapuche: ecological, economic and political stakes

Les plantes et les savoirs des Mapuche : enjeux écologiques, économiques et politiques

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Plantas y conocimiento mapuche: cuestiones ecológicas, económicas y políticas

Flora Pennec

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117

Nothofagaceæ

Nothofagus obliqua (Mirb.) Oerst. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_018. Collected on 19.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

118

ESP

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ENG

FRA

The Mapuche people have long been recognised for Los mapuches son conocidos desde hace mucho their knowledge of plants. Over the centuries, this tiempo por su conocimiento de las plantas. A lo knowledge has been studied by explorers, missionlargo de los siglos, este conocimiento ha sido estudiado por exploradores, misioneros, médicos, aries, doctors, scientists etc. and at the beginning of 20th century in medical and pharmaceutical científicos.... Mientras que a principios del siglo XX, en el contexto del desarrollo de las ciencias mé- development, it was explored with the aim of discovering new remedies. Now it has been given new dicas y farmacéuticas, este conocimiento se estudió para descubrir nuevos remedios, hoy en día se value through ecotourism and the recognition of utiliza como parte de proyectos de ecoturismo o del indigenous knowledge. Knowledge of plants can be reconocimiento del conocimiento indígena. El co- studied through ethnobotany, a science that focusnocimiento sobre las plantas puede ser estudiado a es on the relationships between people and plants través de la etnobotánica, una ciencia que examina and reveals their significance both past and present. las relaciones entre las personas y las plantas y This highlights the dynamic relationship between revela los problemas pasados y presentes. Aparece people and plants and renders more complex the entonces el dinamismo existente, complicando la often-fixed idea of "ancestral knowledge". Followvisión a menudo fija que tenemos de estos "conoci- ing a study we carried out in the communities of mientos ancestrales" o "milenarios". A partir de un Lake Budi in Araucanía, Chile, this is a comparison estudio etnobotánico realizado en las comunidades between our findings and those of two historical del lago Budi, en la región de la Araucanía, nos pro- reference works concerning the uses of plants in the ponemos dar cuenta de las comparaciones históri- region as well as the ecological, economic, social cas que hemos podido hacer con dos obras de refe- and political stakes revealed by some of the plants rencia sobre el uso de las plantas en esta región, así we collected. como sobre los problemas ecológicos, económicos, Interest in plants from the Mapuche territories and sociales y políticos que han puesto de manifiesto knowledge of these plants, has evolved over time. las pocas plantas que hemos recolectado. The first explorations of Chile the eighteenth cenEl interés por las plantas mapuches y el conocitury led to the collection of many plants, but often miento asociado ha evolucionado con el tiempo. without the knowledge associated with them. The Las primeras exploraciones del siglo XVIII en Chile aim was to inventory and describe species previouspermitieron recolectar muchas plantas, pero a ly unknown to Europeans, in order to classify them menudo sin los conocimientos asociados a ellas. according to the bourgeoning taxonomy systems of El objetivo era inventariar y describir las especies the time. desconocidas hasta entonces para los europeos With the dawn of anthropology at the beginning of con el fin de clasificarlas según los sistemas taxo- the twentieth century, studies were carried out on nómicos emergentes. Mapuche territory aimed at gathering information A principios del siglo XX, a principios de la anon the lifestyles of "primitive" peoples, and theretropología, los estudios realizados en territorio fore their knowledge of plants was sometimes taken mapuche tenían como objetivo informar el estilo into account. But the scientific intention of that peride vida de los pueblos llamados "primitivos" y, por od was to demonstrate a hierarchy of peoples and, lo tanto, a veces se tomaba en cuenta su conocivery often, the inferiority of "indigenous" populamiento de las plantas. Pero el contexto científico de tions, meaning that it was then necessary to civilise la época pretendía demostrar una jerarquía entre through an approach of "pacificación", a term somelos pueblos y a menudo una inferioridad de estas what contradictory to the reality of the operation, poblaciones "indígenas", que había que civilizar involving conflict and land appropriation. mediante un enfoque de "pacificación", término Martin Gusinde, a German anthropologist, phoalgo contradictorio con las consecuencias que esta tographer and priest working in Chile at that time, operación provocaba: los conflictos y la propiedad observed the practices of peoples hoping to prove de la tierra. En este contexto chileno, Martin Guthe existence of an "original faith" among "primsinde, antropólogo, fotógrafo y también sacerdote itive" populations. While their medical practices elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .tsreO ).briM( auqilbo sugafohtoN alemán, las s i s n e i s i r a Pobserva iesuM mu i r a prácticas b r e H : e c r u ode S . slos a j o Rpueblos . G : t e D . 6para 1 0 2 . 3 0 . 9were 1 n o d described e t c e l l o C . 8 1 0as _ Lbeing C _ P F # based c e n n e P .on F "superstition" and

Les Mapuche sont depuis longtemps reconnus pour leurs savoirs sur les plantes. Au fil des siècles, ces savoirs ont été étudiés par les explorateurs, les missionnaires, les médecins, les scientifiques… Alors qu’au début du XXème siècle, dans un contexte de développement des sciences de la médecine et de la pharmaceutique, ces savoirs étaient étudiés afin de découvrir de nouveaux remèdes, de nos jours ces savoirs font l’objet de valorisation dans le cadre de projets d’éco-tourisme ou de reconnaissance des savoirs autochtones. Les savoirs sur les plantes peuvent être étudiés à travers l’ethnobotanique, science qui s’intéresse aux relations entre les hommes et les plantes et en révèle les enjeux passés et actuels. Il apparaît alors le dynamisme existant, complexifiant la vision souvent figée que l’on a de ces « savoirs ancestraux » ou « millénaires ». Suite à une étude ethnobotanique menée dans les communautés du lac Budi dans la région de la Araucanía, nous proposons ici de rendre compte des comparaisons historiques que nous avons pu mener avec deux ouvrages de référence concernant les usages des plantes de cette région, ainsi que des enjeux écologiques, économiques, sociaux et politiques révélés par les quelques plantes que nous avons collectées. L’intérêt porté aux plantes des territoires Mapuche et aux savoirs associés ont évolué au cours du temps. Les premières explorations du XVIIIème siècle au Chili ont permis de collecter de nombreuses plantes, mais bien souvent sans les connaissances qui y étaient associées. Il s’agissait alors d’inventorier et de décrire les espèces inconnues jusqu’alors par les européens afin de les classer selon les systèmes de taxinomie alors en pleine émergence. Au début du XXème siècle lors des débuts de l’anthropologie, les études menées sur le territoire Mapuche avaient pour but de renseigner les modes de vie des peuples « primitifs » et donc leurs savoirs sur les plantes ont parfois été pris en compte. Mais le contexte scientifique d’alors visait à démontrer une hiérarchie entre les peuples et souvent une infériorité de ces populations « indigènes », qu’il était alors nécessaire de civiliser grâce à une démarche de « pacificación », terme quelque peu contradictoire avec les conséquences que cette opération provoque : conflits et désappropriation des terres. Dans ce contexte chilien, Martin Gusinde, anthropologue allemand, photographe mais également prêtre, observe les pratiques des peuples pour

æecagafohtoN

119

Lardizabalaceæ

Lardizabala biternata Ruiz & Pav. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_019. Collected on 19.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

120 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

"blind faith" in traditional healers, their knowledge demostrar la existencia de una "fe original" entre of plants was nonetheless given special considerestas poblaciones "primitivas". Mientras que sus ation by Gusinde and others. Recognised not only prácticas médicas se describen como basadas en for its possible usefulness to European civilizations, la "superstición" y la "fe ciega" de los curanderos plant knowledge presented evidence of the Maputradicionales, su conocimiento de las plantas ha sido objeto de especial consideración por parte de che's "autochtony" (originating from a specific and éste y otros antropólogos. Reconocido no sólo por limited area) and was seen as evidence that their su potencial utilidad para las civilizaciones euroculture was older than others in the region, such peas, el conocimiento de las plantas proporcionó as those that came under the influence of Peruvievidencia de la "indígenaidad" de los mapuches y la an culture, and therefore a sign of ancient, proven precedencia de su cultura sobre la de otras culturas experience, worthy of recognition. The plants were presentes en la región, como las que se encuontra- then catalogued with their scientific name, their Maban bajo la influencia Incaica. Por lo tanto, eran un puche name and the uses that had been observed. signo de una experiencia antigua, probada y digna This information was synthesized by Gusinde in de reconocimiento. Luego se catalogan las plantas his 1916 article Medicina e Hygiene de los antiguos con su nombre científico, nombre mapuche y los Araucanos, in which several linguistic and botanical usos que se han observado. Por ejemplo, esta infor- references are gathered. This list is also presented mación fue sintetizada por Martin Gusinde en 1916 under the title: Plantas medicinales recomendadas en su artículo Medicina e Hygiene de los antiguos por los indios araucanos, (medicinal plants recomAraucanos en el que se recogen varias referencias mended by the indigenous Araucan people). The lingüísticas y botánicas. Esta lista se presenta bajo formulation of the title suggests a recommendation el título: "plantas medicinales recomendadas por by the people observed, but this is more probably a los indios araucanos", una formulación que sugiere product of the author's own interpretation. una recomendación de las personas observadas A few years after Gusinde's observations, anothpero que de hecho debe basarse esencialmente en er religious man, Ernest Wilhelm from Mösbach, la propia interpretación del autor. arrived at the Capuchin mission in Araucanía where Pocos años después de las observaciones de Martín he studied linguistics and botany for 10 years. In Gusinde, otro religioso, Ernest Wilhelm de Mös1955 he drew up a very detailed catalogue of the bach, llegó a la misión de la Orden Capuchina de plants of this region and their uses by the Mapuche la Araucanía donde estudió lingüística y botánica in his work Botanica indigena de Chile, compiling all durante 10 años. En 1955, escribió un catálogo muy the knowledge previously published with his own detallado de las plantas de esta región y sus usos observations. Mösbach’s work was first publish por parte de los mapuches en su libro Botanica in- only in 1986, after the rediscovery of his manuscript digena de Chile, recopilando todo el conocimiento in the archives of the Apostolic Vicariate of Villarica, previamente publicado con sus propias observaby Ziley Mora Pernoz. ciones y que solo fuera publicado por primera vez Now, a century after Gusinde's research, we are hacia 1986 después del redescubrimiento de una carrying out an ethnobotanical study of Araucanía de las copias de su manuscrito en los archivos del to document the diversity of plant knowledge and Vicariato de Villarica por Ziley Mora Pernoz. its recent variation. This is not about making an Un siglo después de la investigación de Martin exhaustive inventory of the plants present and the Gusinde, estamos realizando un estudio etnoboassociated knowledge, but of collecting some of the tánico en la región de la Araucanía para reflejar la plants and some of their uses to reflect the diversity diversidad de conocimientos relacionados con las of the vegetation in the region, the different cateplantas y su dinámica reciente. El objetivo no es ha- gories of use for plants, and the factors that influcer un inventario preciso de las plantas presentes ence the construction, transmission and use of this y de todo el conocimiento asociado, sino recoger knowledge. So, through some fifty plants collected, algunas plantas y usos que reflejen la diversidad many facets of Mapuche knowledge, history and vegetal de la región, las diferentes categorías de progression have been revealed and we’ve been able elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .vaP & ziuR atanretib alabazidraL uso de las plantas y los factores que influyen en works of Martin s i s n e i s i r a P i e s u M m u i r a b r e H : e c r u o S . s a j o R . G : t e D . 6 1 0 2 . 3 0 . 9to 1 ncompare o d e t c e l l o Cthem . 9 1 0 _ with L C _ P Fthose # c e n n in e P .the F

prouver l’existence d’une « foi originelle » parmi ces populations « primitives ». Alors que leurs pratiques de la médecine sont décrites comme basées sur la « superstition » et « une foi aveugle » dans les soigneurs traditionnels, leurs savoirs sur les plantes ont fait l’objet d’une considération particulière de la part de cet anthropologue et par d’autres. Reconnues non seulement pour leur possible utilité pour les civilisations européennes, les connaissances sur les plantes présentaient une preuve de l’« autochtonie » des Mapuche et de l’antériorité de leur culture sur celles d’autres cultures présentes dans la région comme celle sous l’influence péruvienne. Elles étaient donc signe d’une expérience ancienne, éprouvée et digne d’être reconnue. Les plantes sont alors cataloguées avec leur nom scientifique, leur nom mapuche et les usages qui ont été observés. Ces informations ont par exemple été synthétisées par Martin Gusinde en 1916 dans son article Medicina e Hygiene de los antiguos Araucanos dans lequel plusieurs références linguistiques et botaniques sont rassemblées. Cette liste est d’ailleurs présentée sous le titre : « plantas medicinales recomendadas por los indios araucanos », qui signifie « plantes médicinales recommandées par les indiens araucans », formulation qui suggère une recommandation de la part des personnes observées mais qui en fait doit essentiellement être issue de l’interprétation de l’auteur lui-même. Quelques années après les observations de Martin Gusinde, un autre homme religieux, Ernest Wilhelm de Mösbach, arrive à la mission de l’Ordre Capucin d’Araucanía où il va étudier durant 10 ans la linguistique et la botanique. Il rédige en 1955 un catalogue très détaillé des plantes de cette région et de leurs utilisations par les Mapuche dans son ouvrage Botanica indigena de Chile compilant l’ensemble des connaissances jusqu’alors publiées avec ses propres observations et qui ne sera publié pour la première fois qu’en 1986 après le re-découverte d’une des copies de son manuscrit dans les archives du Vicariat apostolique de Villarica par Ziley Mora Pernoz. Un siècle après les recherches de Martin Gusinde, nous entreprenons une étude ethnobotanique dans la région de la Araucanía, pour rendre compte de la diversité des savoirs liés aux plantes et de leur dynamique récente. Il ne s’agit pas de faire un inventaire précis des plantes présentes et de l’ensemble des savoirs associés,

æecalabazidraL

121

Grossulariaceæ

Ribes magellanicum Poir. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_020. Collected on 21.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

122 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

la construcción de este conocimiento, su transmi- Gusinde and Wilhelm de Mösbach. Many of the Mapuche and Chilean names we colsión y sus usos. Así, a través de una cincuentena lected, exist also in both books (30/60 in Gusinde de plantas recolectadas, surgen muchas facetas and 47/60 in Wilhelm de Mösbach), but not all of del conocimiento, la historia y la dinámica de los them. These differences may be due to geographical mapuches. variation, since we didn’t survey exactly the same A partir de las dos referencias históricas mencionadas anteriormente, Martin Gusinde y Wilhelm places, or to changes in plant names over time. We de Mösbach, podemos comparar las plantas, los also noticed for certain plants with a wide geonombres y los usos que hemos recogido con los graphical distribution and common in traditional presentes en sus obras. medicines (not only in Chile, since among them we Encontramos que algunos de los nombres mapuche find ribwort plantain - Plantago lanceolata L, which y chileno que recogimos durante nuestra misión de is also common in Europe) that our sources did not campo también existían en ambos libros (30/60 en know the Mapuche name, probably forgotten due to Gusinde; 47/60 en Wilhelm de Mösbach), pero no the recurrent use of the Chilean names. It therefore todos. Estas diferencias pueden deberse a la diver- appears that the names of plants are not fixed, that sidad geográfica, ya que no estudiamos exactamen- they vary according to people, space and time. te los mismos lugares, o a cambios en los nombres On the other hand, when we looked at the scientific de las plantas con el tiempo. También notamos names of the plants (which have also evolved but para algunas plantas con una amplia distribución with a noticeable relationship between the succesgeográfica y comunes en la medicina tradicional sive names), we found almost all of our plants in the (no sólo en Chile ya que entre ellas encontramos la work of Wilhelm de Mösbach, while about fifteen planta lanceolada Plantago lanceolata L., también of our plant species are not mentioned by Gusinde. utilizada en nuestras latitudes) nuestros informan- This difference between our collections and those of tes no conocían el nombre mapuche, probablemen- Gusinde is explained in part by the respective objecte olvidado por el uso recurrente del nombre chitives of our studies. Gusinde focused on medicinal leno de estas plantas. Por lo tanto, parece que los plants and did not mention food plants, or plants nombres de las plantas no son fijos, sino que varían used for crafts and construction. His catalogue is según las personas, en el espacio y en el tiempo. less exhaustive than that of Wilhelm de Mösbach Por otro lado, si nos fijamos en los nombres cientí- and so we do not find some plants that we have ficos de las plantas -que también han evolucionado collected to illustrate non-medicinal uses. This is pero para las que existen correspondencias entre the case of the vine nepu, also called kowell foci los nombres sucesivos- hemos encontrado casi (Lardizabala biternata, L.), whose edible fruit was todas nuestras plantas en la obra de Wilhelm de a source of vitamins for the Mapuche and whose Mösbach, mientras que unas quince plantas no son stems were used as links in the manufacture of ruka, mencionadas por Gusinde. Esta diferencia entre the traditional dwellings made of wood and rushes. nuestras colecciones y las de Gusinde se explica en Finally, we have an example of a plant that is absent parte por los objetivos respectivos de nuestros es- from the historical works for ecological reasons: tudios. Gusinde, centrado en las plantas medicina- common gorse (Ulex europaeus L.), was introduced les, no mencionó en su artículo plantas alimenticias in the 19th century by German colonists to mark out o plantas utilizadas para la artesanía y la construc- their properties and had not yet been introduced ción. Su catálogo es menos exhaustivo que el de into the Mapuche pharmacopoeia, or for other uses, Wilhelm de Mösbach, y no encontramos en él algu- at the time of Gusinde and Wilhelm de Mösbach. nas plantas que hayamos recogido para ilustrar es- Widely used in Chile today and used by the Maputos usos no medicinales. Es el caso de la vid nepu, che to treat coughs, gorse is considered an invasive también conocida como kowell foki, que correspon- species against which biological control measures de a la especie Lardizabala biternata, cuya fruta co- have been adopted over the last thirty years to limit mestible era una fuente de vitaminas apreciada por its proliferation (for example: the introduction of los mapuches y cuyos tallos servían de eslabones seed-predatory insects). elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .rioP mucinallegam sebiR para la fabricación de la ruka, las casas tradicionas i s n e i s i r a P i e s u M m u i r a b r e H : e c r u o S . s a j o R . G : t e D . 6 1 0 2 . 3 0 . 1The 2 n o comparison d e t c e l l o C . 0 2 0 continues _ L C _ P F # c e nwhen n e P . F looking at the uses

mais de récolter quelques plantes et quelques usages qui reflètent la diversité végétale de la région, les différentes catégories d’usage des plantes et les facteurs influençant la construction de ces savoirs, leur transmission et leurs utilisations. Ainsi, à travers une cinquantaine de plantes collectées, de nombreuses facettes des savoirs des Mapuche, de leur histoire et de leur dynamique transparaissent. En se basant sur les deux références historiques citées précédemment, Martin Gusinde et Wilhelm de Mösbach, nous pouvons comparer les plantes, les noms et les usages que nous avons collectés avec ceux présents dans leurs ouvrages. Nous avons pu constater qu’une partie des noms mapuche et chiliens que nous avons collectés lors de notre mission sur le terrain existaient également dans les deux ouvrages (30/60 dans Gusinde ; 47/60 dans Wilhelm de Mösbach), mais pas tous. Ces différences peuvent être dues à une diversité géographique, puisque nous n’avons pas enquêté exactement dans les mêmes lieux, ou bien à une évolution des noms des plantes au cours du temps. Nous avons aussi remarqué pour certaines plantes avec une large distribution géographique et courantes dans les médecines traditionnelles (pas seulement au Chili d’ailleurs puisque parmi elles nous retrouvons le plantin lancéolé– Plantago lanceolata L., utilisé aussi sous nos latitudes) nos informateurs ne connaissaient pas le nom mapuche, sans doute oublié suite à l’usage récurrent du nom chilien de ces plantes. Il apparaît donc que le nom des plantes n’est pas figé, qu’il varie selon les personnes, dans l’espace et dans le temps. En revanche, si l’on s’intéresse aux noms scientifiques des plantes - qui ont évolué eux aussi mais pour lesquels les correspondances entre les dénominations successives existent - nous avons retrouvé presque la totalité de nos plantes dans l’œuvre de Wilhelm de Mösbach alors qu’une quinzaine de plantes ne sont pas mentionnées par Gusinde. Cette différence entre nos collectes et celles de Gusinde peut s’expliquer en partie par les objectifs respectifs de nos études. Gusinde, centré sur les plantes médicinales, n’a pas mentionné dans son article les plantes alimentaires ou utilisées pour l’artisanat et la construction. Son catalogue est moins exhaustif que celui de Wilhelm de Mösbach, et nous n’y retrouvons pas certaines plantes que nous avons collectées pour illustrer ces usages non médicinaux. C’est le cas de la liane nepu, également appelée foki de

æecairalussorG

123

Pteridaceæ

Adiantum chilense Kaulf. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_021. Collected on 21.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

124 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

of the plants mentioned by our sources and those les hechas de madera y juncos. Finalmente, tenecollected and compiled by Gusinde and Wilhelm mos el ejemplo de una planta que está ausente de from Mösbach. We note that the medicinal uses, are los trabajos históricos por razones ecológicas. Se trata de la aulaga europea - Ulex europaeus L., una the ones where we found the greatest similarities between the three studies, whereas ritual or symplanta introducida en el siglo XIX por los colonos alemanes para delimitar sus propiedades y que aún bolic uses, little considered by the other two authors for ideological reasons, are rarely described. Both no había sido incluida en la farmacopea mapuche ni para otros usos durante los estudios de Gusinde authors refer essentially to "sacred" trees, such as y Wilhelm de Mösbach. Ampliamente utilizada hoy the canelo (Drimys winteri - J. R. Forst & G Forst), en día en Chile y utilizada por los mapuches para Laurel (Laurelia sempervirens Tul), or Wild Maqui tratar la tos, la aulaga es considerada una planta (Aristolochia chilensis - Bridges ex Lindl). These invasora contra la cual se han adoptado medidas de three species are present in the sacred spaces of the control biológico (introducción de depredadores de Mapuche (rewe) and are used in many rituals, whose semillas, por ejemplo) en los últimos 30 años para symbolism was in some cases adapted for Christian limitar su proliferación. rituals during the conversion of the Mapuche. Podemos continuar la comparación observando los In addition to this historical perspective, which alusos de las plantas y comparar los que mencionaready reveals variation in the denomination and use ron los pocos informantes con los que nos reuniof plants and some of the factors influencing them mos y los que recopilaron y compilaron Gusinde (political and religious context, introduction of new y Wilhelm de Mösbach. Observamos que los usos species...), our study has also shown us more conmedicinales, tema común a nuestros tres estutemporary aspects of the issues relating to Mapuche dios, son los más similares, mientras que los usos plants. rituales o simbólicos, que no son considerados por The humid temperate forests of Araucanía are home los dos autores, probablemente por razones ideo- to many endemic species that are being replaced by lógicas, son raramente descritos. Los dos autores monocultures of pine or eucalyptus, plantations that se refieren esencialmente a los árboles "sagrados", supply the pulp and paper industry for which Chile como el canelo - Drimys winteri J.R.Forst. G. Forst, is the 5th largest producer worldwide. This poses a el laurel - Laurelia sempervirens Tul. - o el maqui - threat to biodiversity, as some species are becoming Aristolochia chilensis Bridges ex Lindl, tres espeincreasingly rare due to soil and hydrographic altercies de árboles que se encuentran en los espacios ations caused by these industrial plantations, but it sagrados de los mapuches (rewe) y en muchos also threatens the knowledge and practices assorituales, cuyo simbolismo fue a veces adaptado ciated with the plants that are disappearing. One para los rituales cristianos durante la conversión plant that we collected illustrates this phenomenon religiosa mapuche. of scarcity, the Nertera granadensis (Mutis ex L. f.), Además de esta perspectiva histórica, que ya revela or Druce, a small herbaceous plant that particularly una dinámica en la denominación y uso de las likes the preserved wet slopes found in riparian forplantas y algunos de los factores que influyen en ests, that is, forest on riverbanks. This environment ellas (contexto político y religioso, introducción de is vulnerable and rapidly degraded by mono-specific nuevas especies...), nuestro estudio también nos plantations that acidify the soil and dry up waterpermitió conocer algunos aspectos más contemcourses. One of our contacts, who did not know the poráneos de las cuestiones relativas a las plantas name of this plant, or its use, had noticed that more utilizadas por los mapuches. and more machis (Mapuche shamans) were comLos bosques templados húmedos de la Araucanía, ing to buy it as it used for certain remedies and can hogar de muchas especies endémicas, son reemstill be found the few hectares of native forest that plazados por monocultivos de pinos o eucaliptos, he has kept preciously, despite pressure to plant plantaciones que abastecen a la industria de la eucalyptus. While these industrial plantations can celulosa, de la que Chile es el quinto productor provide those with land a source of income diversifimundial. Esto supone una amenaza para la biodication in an area where agricultural activity remains elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .fluaK esnelihc mutnaidA versidad, ya que algunas especies se están voline Pthe s i s n e i s i r a P i e s u M m u i r a b r e H : e c r u o S . s a j o R . G : t e D . 6 1 0 2 . 3 0 . 1significant, 2 n o d e t c e l l o Cthey . 1 2 0 _are L C _owned PF # cenn . F main by large

kowell, qui correspond à l’espèce Lardizabala biternata, dont le fruit comestible était une source de vitamines appréciée par les Mapuche et dont les tiges servaient de liens pour la fabrication des ruka, les habitations traditionnelles faites de bois et de joncs. Enfin, nous avons l’exemple d’une plante absente des ouvrages historiques pour des raisons écologiques. Il s’agit de l’ajonc d’Europe - Ulex europaeus L., plante introduite au XIXe par les colons allemands pour délimiter leurs propriétés et qui ne devait pas encore être introduite dans la pharmacopée des Mapuche ou pour d’autres usages lors des études de Gusinde et de Wilhelm de Mösbach. Largement répandu aujourd’hui au Chili et utilisé par les Mapuche pour soigner la toux, l’ajonc est considéré comme une plante invasive contre laquelle des mesures de lutte biologique (introduction d’insectes prédateurs des graines par exemple) sont adoptées depuis une trentaine d’années pour limiter sa prolifération. Nous pouvons poursuivre la comparaison en s’intéressant aux usages des plantes et comparer ceux que les quelques informateurs que nous avons rencontrés ont mentionnés et ceux recueillis et compilés par Gusinde et Wilhelm de Mösbach. Nous constatons que les usages médicinaux, thématique commune à nos trois études, sont ceux qui présentent le plus de similitudes alors que les usages rituels ou symboliques, peu considérés par les deux auteurs sans doute pour des raisons idéologiques, sont rarement décrits. Les deux auteurs évoquent essentiellement les arbres « sacrés », comme le canelo – Drimys winteri J.R.Forst. & G.Forst.-, le laurel – Laurelia sempervirens Tul. - ou le maqui – Aristolochia chilensis Bridges ex Lindl., trois espèces d‘arbres présentes dans les espaces sacrés des Mapuche (rewe) et dans de nombreux rituels, dont le symbolisme a parfois été adapté pour les rituels chrétiens lors de la conversion religieuse des Mapuche. En plus de cette perspective historique, qui révèle déjà une dynamique dans la dénomination et l’usage des plantes et certains des facteurs qui les influencent (contexte politique et religieux, introduction de nouvelles espèces…), notre étude nous a également permis de prendre connaissance de certains aspects plus contemporains des enjeux concernant les plantes utilisées par les Mapuche. Les forêts tempérées humides de la Araucanía, abritant de nombreuses espèces endémiques,

æecadiretP

125

Equisetaceæ

Equisetum bogotense Kunth. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_022. Collected on 21.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

126 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

viendo cada vez más raras debido a los cambios en operators and this plantation is the root of many conflicts with Mapuche communities who claim los sistemas de suelo y agua causados por estas these lands and sometimes struggle violently to plantaciones industriales, pero también amenaza gain recognition for their ancestral rights. el conocimiento y las prácticas asociadas con las plantas que están desapareciendo. Así, recogimos However, in this context of loss of biodiversity, we have also noticed recent positive developments, una planta que ilustra este fenómeno de rarefacción, Nertera granadensis (Mutis ex L.f.) Druce, una whether initiated by the Chilean government or by pequeña planta herbácea a la que le gustan espethe communities themselves, aimed at highlighting cialmente las laderas húmedas conservadas en los the value of Mapuche know-how and thus preservbosques de ribera. Este medio ambiente es vulne- ing biodiversity and the knowledge that goes with rable y rápidamente degradado por plantaciones it. monoespecíficas que acidifican el suelo y secan los A first example of this is the promotion of Mapuche ríos. Uno de nuestros interlocutores, que no cono- culture by encouraging ecotourism. In the vicinity of cía el nombre de esta planta ni su uso, había notado Lake Budi, where our study was carried out, facilique cada vez más machis, los chamanes mapuches, ties have been created by the state (refurbishment se acercaban a su propiedad para obtener esta of roads, installation of tourist information signage) planta utilizada para ciertos remedios, aún presen- and any volunteer can organise activities related to te entre las pocas hectáreas de bosque nativo que Mapuche culture (traditional cuisine, crafts, singing, conservaba cuidadosamente, a pesar de la presión etc.). Thus, one of our contacts organises botanical para plantar eucaliptos. Si bien estas plantaciones outings in the native forest he owns. He has been industriales ofrecen a los individuos una fuente de able to have specific training in ecotourism and has diversificación de ingresos en una región donde la received help from the forest management instituactividad agrícola sigue siendo alta, son principal- tion to plan a visitors' trail through the vegetation. mente propiedad de grandes agricultores, y están What’s more, during these training sessions, he en la raíz de muchos conflictos con las comunidawas able to exchange knowledge associated with des mapuches que reclaman estas tierras y a veces certain plants found in this woodland and thus learn luchan violentamente para que se reconozca su new uses, sometimes from neighbouring Mapuche, ocupación secular. sometimes from the training or forest management Sin embargo, en este contexto de pérdida de organisations. For example, he told us about seven biodiversidad, también hemos visto dinámicas cosmetic uses of a species that didn't grow in his recientes, ya sea iniciadas por el gobierno chileno forest, but of which he had been given a few plants. o por las propias comunidades, dirigidas a mejorar We can see that this type of initiative, by promoting el conocimiento local mapuche y así preservar esta knowledge, allows exchange within new networks biodiversidad y el conocimiento asociado. of stakeholders and modifies knowledge, its approUn primer ejemplo es la promoción de la cultura priation and dissemination. mapuche mediante la promoción del ecoturismo. There is another example that well illustrates this En los alrededores del lago Budi, nuestra zona de progression. The hospital in Puerto Saavedra is estudio, se han creado instalaciones estatales (re- one of five hospitals in the region with an inter-culhabilitación de caminos, instalación de carteles de tural medical centre. Created in 2011 thanks to the información turística) y cualquier voluntario puede influence of a few Mapuche and local politicians proponer actividades relacionadas con la cultura who wanted to allow access to Mapuche medicine mapuche (cocina tradicional, artesanías, cancioas much as any other service in the hospital, this nes...). Así, uno de nuestros interlocutores propone structure offers consultation with shamans in a salidas botánicas en el bosque nativo que posee specific department. In front of the entrance to the en su propiedad, ha podido seguir una formación centre there is a rewe, a sacred space where rituals específica en ecoturismo y ha recibido asistencia and ceremonies are performed. Normally located on de la institución de manejo forestal para desarrollar the land of each shaman, the rewe here is shared by un sendero entre la vegetación. Además, durante the different shamans practicing at the centre. This elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .htnuK esnetogob mutesiuqE estas sesiones de capacitación, pudo intercambiar non-Mapuche people in s i s n e i s i r a P i e s u M m u i r a b r e H : e c r u o S . s a j o R . G : t e D . 6 1 0 2 . 3 0 . 1centre 2 n o d e tallows c e l l o C . 2Mapuche 2 0 _ L C _ P F #and cenn eP.F

sont remplacées par des monocultures de pins ou d’eucalyptus, plantations permettant d’alimenter l’industrie de la pâte à papier pour laquelle le Chili est le 5ème producteur mondial. Cela présente une menace pour la biodiversité, certaines espèces devenant de plus en plus rares dû à une modification des sols et des systèmes hydrographiques provoquée par ces plantations industrielles, mais cela menace également les savoirs et les pratiques associées aux plantes qui disparaissent. Ainsi, nous avons collecté une plante qui illustre bien ce phénomène de raréfaction, la Nertera granadensis (Mutis ex L.f.) Druce, une petite herbacée affectionnant particulièrement les talus humides préservés au sein des ripisylves, forêt de bords de cours d’eau. Ce milieu est vulnérable et rapidement dégradé par les plantations monospécifiques qui acidifient le sol et assèchent les cours d’eau. Un de nos interlocuteurs, qui ne connaissait pas le nom de cette plante ni son usage, avait constaté que de plus en plus de machis, les chamanes mapuche, venaient dans sa propriété pour se procurer cette plante utilisée pour certains remèdes, encore présente parmi les quelques hectares de forêt native qu’il conservait précieusement, malgré les pressions pour y planter de l’eucalyptus. Si ces plantations industrielles offrent aux particuliers une source de diversification de leurs revenus dans une région où l’activité agricole reste importante, elles sont en majorité détenues par de grands exploitants, et sont à l’origine de nombreux conflits avec les communautés mapuche qui revendiquent ces terres et luttent parfois violemment pour faire reconnaître leur occupation séculaire. Cependant, dans un tel contexte de perte de biodiversité, nous avons également perçu des dynamiques récentes, qu’elles soient à l’initiative du gouvernement chilien ou des communautés elles-mêmes, visant à valoriser les savoirs locaux des Mapuche et ainsi à préserver cette biodiversité et les savoirs associés. Un premier exemple est la promotion de la culture mapuche en favorisant l’écotourisme. Aux alentours du lac Budi, notre terrain d’étude, des aménagements ont été créés par l’état (réfection des routes, mise en place de signalisation d’informations touristiques) et toute personne volontaire peut proposer des activités en lien avec la culture mapuche (cuisine traditionnelle, artisanat, chants…). Ainsi, un de nos interlocuteur propose des sorties botaniques dans la forêt native qu’il possède sur sa propriété, il a

æecatesiuqE

127

Polygonaceæ

Polygonum aviculare L. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_023. Collected on 21.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

128 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

the region to receive alternative treatments to those con otras personas sobre el conocimiento asociado con ciertas plantas presentes en el bosque y así usually provided at public hospitals. Since this year, apropiarse de nuevos usos, a veces de los vecinos the centre has also been offering a number of local mapuches, a veces de la organización de capacita- plant remedies (ointments, oils, drops...) made on ción o manejo forestal. Por ejemplo, mencionó los site. 7 usos cosméticos de una planta que no tenía en su These examples illustrate some of the current challenges in protecting the perceived value of plant bosque pero de la cual se le habían suministrado algunas plantas. Podemos ver, por lo tanto, que knowledge: the economic development of commueste tipo de iniciativas, al promover el conocimien- nities and the recognition of traditional practices to, permiten el intercambio dentro de nuevas redes within public institutions. These objectives may in de actores y modifican el conocimiento, su apropia- turn have repercussions on the region's environción y su difusión. ment, because of the preservation, or even cultivaOtro ejemplo también ilustra estos cambios. El Hos- tion of some plants. For example, some medicinal pital de Puerto Saavedra es uno de los 5 hospitales plants, commonly used by machi, are produced in de la región que cuenta con un centro de medicina nurseries by the forest management organisation intercultural. Creada en 2011 gracias a la influen- CONAF. But for some shamans, these artificially cia de algunos políticos mapuches y locales que cultivated plants do not benefit from their natural querían permitir el acceso a la medicina mapuche environment, which gives them their medicinal como a cualquier otro servicio del hospital, esta es- power and are therefore less effective than those tructura propone consultar a los chamanes dentro collected in the forest. It also raises the question of de un servicio específico del hospital público. Para the evolution of knowledge, which may find itself su práctica, disponen de una reja frente a la entrada transformed into folklore in a context of eco-tourism del centro, un espacio sagrado donde se realizan which tends to freeze otherwise fluid knowledge, or rituales y ceremonias. Usualmente localizado en la to modify the ritual practices of shamans, which are parcela de cada chamán, el rewe es aquí común a sometimes perceived as less effective when adapted los diferentes chamanes que practican en el centro to an institutional context. de la medicina intercultural. Este centro permite a The use of plant knowledge evolves over time and los mapuches y no mapuches de la región recibir integrating it into the development of ecological, tratamientos alternativos a la atención habitual en economic, social and political conditions by those el hospital público. Desde este año, el centro tam- who have, exchange and transmit this knowledge, bién ofrece algunos remedios (ungüentos, aceites, directly influences their environment and their relagotas...) elaborados a partir de plantas locales y tionship with it. hechos in situ. Estos ejemplos ilustran algunos de los desafíos actuales en la valoración del conocimiento relacionado con las plantas: el desarrollo económico comunitario y el reconocimiento de las prácticas tradicionales dentro de las instituciones públicas. Estos objetivos, a su vez, pueden tener consecuencias para el medio ambiente de la región, ya que algunas plantas se conservan o incluso se cultivan. Por ejemplo, algunas plantas medicinales, comúnmente utilizadas por los machi, son producidas en viveros por la organización de manejo forestal - CONAF. Pero para algunos chamanes, estas plantas cultivadas artificialmente no se benefician de su entorno natural, que les proporciona su poder (Newen) medicinal y, por lo tanto, son menos elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .L eraluciva munogyloP eficaces s i s n e i s i r a Pque i e s ulas M mrecolectadas u i r a b r e H : e c r u oen S . el s a jbosque. o R . G : t e DTam.6102.30.12 no detcelloC .320_LC_PF # cenneP.F

pu suivre des formations spécifiques à l’écotourisme et a reçu de l’aide de l’institution de gestion des forêts pour aménager un parcours parmi la végétation. D’ailleurs, lors de ces formations, il a pu échanger avec d’autres personnes sur les savoirs associés à certaines plantes présentes dans la forêt et ainsi s’approprier de nouveaux usages, parfois provenant de Mapuche voisins, parfois de l’organisme de formation ou de gestion des forêts. Il nous a par exemple cité les 7 usages cosmétiques d’une plante qu’il n’avait pas dans sa forêt mais dont quelques plants lui avaient été fournis. On voit donc que ce type d’initiative, en promouvant les savoirs, permet des échanges au sein de nouveaux réseaux d’acteurs et modifie les savoirs, leur appropriation et leur diffusion. Un autre exemple permet d’illustrer également ces modifications. L’hôpital de Puerto Saavedra est un des 5 hôpitaux de la région qui dispose d’un centre de médecine inter-culturelle. Créé en 2011 grâce à l’influence de quelques Mapuche et de politiques locaux voulant permettre l’accès à la médecine mapuche comme à tout autre service de l’hôpital, cette structure propose de consulter des chamanes au sein d’un service spécifique de l’hôpital public. Pour leur pratique, ceux-ci disposent d’un rewe devant l’entrée du centre, espace sacré où s’effectuent des rituels et des cérémonies. Habituellement situé dans la parcelle de chaque chamane, le rewe est ici commun aux différents chamanes exerçant au centre de médecine inter-culturelle. Ce centre permet aux Mapuche et aux non-Mapuche de la région de suivre des traitements alternatifs aux soins habituellement prodigués à l’hôpital public. Depuis cette année, le centre propose également quelques remèdes (pommades, huiles, gouttes…) issus de plantes locales et confectionnés sur place. Ces exemples illustrent quelques enjeux actuels de valorisation des savoirs associés aux plantes : le développement économique des communautés et la reconnaissance des pratiques traditionnelles au sein des institutions publiques. Ces objectifs pourront en retour avoir des conséquences sur l‘environnement de la région puisque certaines plantes se trouvent alors préservées voire cultivées. Par exemple, certaines plantes médicinales, utilisées couramment par les machi, sont produites dans des pépinières par l’organisme de gestion des forêts – la CONAF. Mais pour certains chamanes, ces plantes

æecanogyloP

129

Asteraceæ

Senecio fistolosus Poepp. ex Less. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_024. Collected on 21.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

130 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

bién plantea la cuestión de la evolución del conocimiento, que puede encontrarse folclorizado en un contexto de ecoturismo que tiende a congelar el conocimiento dinámico, o a modificar las prácticas rituales de los chamanes, que a veces se perciben como menos eficaces porque se adaptan a un contexto institucional. El uso del conocimiento vegetal evoluciona con el tiempo, involucrándolo en las cambiantes condiciones ecológicas, económicas, sociales y políticas de los actores que lo poseen, lo intercambian y lo transmiten, influyendo directamente en su entorno y en su relación con él.

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .sseL xe .ppeoP susolotsif oiceneS sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.12 no detcelloC .420_LC_PF # cenneP.F

cultivées artificiellement ne bénéficient pas de leur environnement naturel qui leur prodigue leur pouvoir médicinal et sont donc moins efficaces que celles collectées en forêt. Cela pose également la question de l’évolution des savoirs, qui peuvent se retrouver folkloriser dans un contexte d’éco-tourisme qui peut avoir tendance à figer des savoirs pourtant dynamiques, ou à modifier les pratiques rituelles des chamanes, alors parfois perçues comme moins efficaces puisque adaptées à un contexte institutionnel. L’utilisation des savoirs sur les plantes évolue au cours du temps, les faisant participer à l’évolution des conditions écologiques, économiques, sociales et politiques des acteurs qui les possèdent, les échangent et les transmettent, influençant directement leur environnement et leur relation avec celui-ci.

æecaretsA

131

Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_025. Collected on 21.03.2016. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

132 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .6102.30.12 no detcelloC .520_LC_PF # cenneP.F

133

Asteraceæ

Acricione denticulata (Hook. & Arn) B. Nord. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_026. Collected on 21.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

134 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .droN .B )nrA & .kooH( atalucitned enoicircA sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.12 no detcelloC .620_LC_PF # cenneP.F

æecaretsA

135

Rosaceæ

Acaena argentea Ruiz & Pav. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_027. Collected on 21.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

136 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .vaP & ziuR aetnegra aneacA sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.12 no detcelloC .720_LC_PF # cenneP.F

æecasoR

137

Proteaceæ

Lomatia hirsuta (Lam.) Diels. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_028. Collected on 21.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

138 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .sleiD ).maL( atusrih aitamoL sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.12 no detcelloC .820_LC_PF # cenneP.F

æecaetorP

139

Blechnaceæ

Blechnum cordatum (Lam.) Hieron. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_029. Collected on 21.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

140 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .noreiH ).maL( mutadroc munhcelB sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.12 no detcelloC .920_LC_PF # cenneP.F

æecanhcelB

141

Fabaceæ

Lupinus arboreus Sims. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_030. Collected on 22.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

142 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .smiS suerobra sunipuL sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.22 no detcelloC .030_LC_PF # cenneP.F

æecabaF

143

Plantaginaceæ

Plantago lanceolata Sims. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_031. Collected on 22.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

144 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .smiS ataloecnal ogatnalP sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.22 no detcelloC .130_LC_PF # cenneP.F

æecanigatnalP

145

Myrtaceæ

Blepharocalyx cruckshanksii (Hook. & Arn.) Nied. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_032. Collected on 22.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

146 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .deiN ).nrA & .kooH( iisknahskcurc xylacorahpelB sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.22 no detcelloC .230_LC_PF # cenneP.F

æecatryM

147

Atherospermataceæ

Laurelia sempervirens Tul. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_033. Collected on 27.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

148 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .luT snerivrepmes aileruaL sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.72 no detcelloC .330_LC_PF # cenneP.F

æecatamrepsorehtA

149

Fabaceæ

Sophora cassioides (Phil.) Sparre. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_034. Collected on 27.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

150 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .errapS ).lihP( sedioissac arohpoS sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.72 no detcelloC .430_LC_PF # cenneP.F

æecabaF

151

Blechnaceæ

Blechnum hastatum Kaulf. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_035. Collected on 27.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

152 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .fluaK mutatsah munhcelB sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.72 no detcelloC .530_LC_PF # cenneP.F

æecanhcelB

153

Hydrangeaceæ

Hydrangea serratifolia (Hook & Arn.) Phil. f. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_036. Collected on 27.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

154 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .f .lihP ).nrA & kooH( ailofitarres aegnardyH sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.72 no detcelloC .630_LC_PF # cenneP.F

æecaegnardyH

155

Asteraceæ

Proustia pyrifolia Lag. Araucanía, comuna de Saavedra. Chile F.Pennec # FP_CL_037. Collected on 27.03.2016. Det: G. Rojas. Source: Herbarium Musei Parisiensis

156 5 4 3 2 1 0 mc

MARÍA TEGUALDA MARIBUR Valle Elikura, 2015

elihC .ardevaaS ed anumoc ,aínacuarA .gaL ailofiryp aitsuorP sisneisiraP iesuM muirabreH :ecruoS .sajoR .G :teD .6102.30.72 no detcelloC .730_LC_PF # cenneP.F

æecaretsA

157

ADY JARA MARIBUR Activista medioambiental Environmental activist Activiste environnemental Valle Elikura, 2019

Fuchotun is what’s missing. To cleanse the air and clear the road. She who guides me

Adriana Paredes Pinda

burns foye in the gloom a moon erupts chewing spirits. She will say when it’s time. For now I grasp smells waking up, my nose is fixed

to water sources the soft glaze of dreams. Fuchotu fuchotu pieyfey tañi ñaña amulerkeita pu chollvñ mamvll.

The girl will share her ancient song if she knows the mother of her roots and healing herbs fill her mouth. Coltsfoot for the pain

from scattered asthma cough in the chest. Palke for the feverish heads with no tralilonco and native shrubs to cure the scars from child labour when their light arrieves.

Now the eyes are stuck in cement, no more cradling moons in the buildings no sun, no air, no fire enters. The girl shall have to do a machitún.

The wooden sprouts push against her tongue a pewen with the scent of labour. The spirit had left her, so they say.

We lit fires under a full moon to her ruka, her rejection to mapuche explains the pain. But she surrendered to foye while we sang. Trutruka,

pvfvllka, trompe made from ancient wood to seduce her. The boy plead for her return to release her from the black dogs. She no longer wanted to be kept

in another world, but her heart was torn in two With pain and white lice. We asked mother to stroke her head there where she lay dying.

Then came delicious scents. Treng-Treng earth filled her hands and mother fetched the spirit of the sick girl so it returned. “I had to go find her spirit in the path it was lost”

in another world, but her heart was torn in two With pain and white lice. We asked mother to stroke her head there where she lay dying.

Then came delicious scents. Treng-Treng earth filled her hands and mother fetched the spirit of the sick girl so it returned. “I had to go find her spirit in the path it was lost”

Something’s missing in this house — they told me. It must be lived-in, the old tiger wanders around. Pu aliwen. Open up those murmuring rooms, allow him

to come and get what’s his. To find shelter in the secret pulses. May Kvtral come and consume us in living embers the smoke, the millenary outflow. I allow for you old tiger to comb my hair. Fuchotun: To make cleansing smoke with native plants. Foye: Cinnamon tree. Sacred autochthonous tree. It’s leaves and bark are used as a narcotic and scarring medicine. Fuchotu fuchotu / pieyfey tañi ñaña / amulerkeita pu chollvñ mamvll: Cleansing smoke Cleansing smoke / is what auntie said / walk on / searching for new plants. Palke or palqui: Kind of shrub. Bark and leaves are used as antipyretic. Trarilonco: Knitted ribbon used as head ornamentation. Machitún: Healing ceremony delivered by the machi or shaman. Pewen: Fruit of the araucaria (sacred coniferous tree). Ruka: Mapuche house. Txutxuca or trutruka: Wind instrument. Used during social and religious events. Made with a rod (2-4 meters long) and coated with horse guts. It is blown out of one side and the other ends with a cow’s horn serving as amplification. Püfülka: Wind instrument. Made out of a small piece of wood with a hole. Trompe: Small metallic instrument. Used to be made out of the coligüe bark and animal gut. Trompe is placed between the teeth, hollowing the mouth and inhaling/exhaling softly. While pulsating a reed creating a vibrating unique sound. Men will use this to serenade the lady of his preference. Pu aliwen: Native trees. Kvtral or Kütral: Fire.

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Las plantas en los territorios Mapuche: Del bosque nativo a los monocultivos de árboles en el Sur de Chile

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Marien González Hidalgo

The forests in Mapuche territory: From native forests to tree monocultures in southern Chile

Plantes en territoire mapuche : De la forêt indigène aux monocultures d'arbres dans le sud du Chilis

by /

par /

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En la actualidad, el Sur de Chile es un manto dicromático de dos tonos de verde, verde-pino y verde-eucalipto, que, en forma de monocultivos forestales, cubre cerca de tres millones de hectáreas, desde la Región de O'Higgins a la Región de los Lagos. Las plantaciones forestales son monocultivos de una sola especie de rápido crecimiento, diseñados para alimentar a los mercados de madera, carbón, leños y pulpa de papel. En el caso de Chile, estos productos se exportan mayoritariamente a países como China, Japón o Estados Unidos, suponiendo beneficios de más de 6 trillones de pesos chilenos. Un poco de historia forestal del Sur de Chile Antes de la colonización española (1598-1810), comunidades indígenas dispersas Mapuche vivían en los bosques templados del sur de Chile y Argentina, donde sus clareos del bosque les permitían establecer asentamientos. Su economía de subsistencia era de caza-recolección, lo que garantizaba la presencia de extensos bosques y alta biodiversidad. El mantenimiento de esta densa vegetación facilitó la resistencia indígena en su larga confrontación contra el imperio español. Durante el siglo XVII, la resistencia Mapuche impidió la colonización española del territorio, y los Mapuche establecieron formalmente su autonomía con el tratado de Quillín en 1641, estableciendo la frontera en el río Biobío. Esta relativa autonomía terminó cuando el estado de Chile declaró su independencia de España (1810) y los Mapuche pasaron a ser ciudadanos chilenos (1819): la frontera comenzó a desintegrarse lentamente a través de la adquisición de tierras por colonos chilenos y, posteriormente, alemanes (1845). La “Pacificación de la Araucanía” en Chile (18601881) y la “Conquista del Desierto” en Argentina (1878-1885) supusieron violentas estrategias de estado para el control territorial, incendiando casas y tierras Mapuche, que resultaron en la incorporación de 5 millones de hectáreas de tierra al estado de Chile y la reducción del territorio Mapuche al 5%, con cerca de 4 hectáreas por miembro de la comunidad. Esta expansión violenta de la frontera chilena a través de la acción militar fue motivada por el crecimiento del comercio internacional de trigo, en el que el centro de Chile disfrutó de un éxito temprano, junto con la consideración de las poblaciones indígenas como una raza inferior y la falta de productividad de las economías campe-

Nowadays in southern Chile, we find a continuous, dichromatic veil of two shades of green- pine-green and eucalyptus-green- that covers three million hectares, from the O’Higgins region to Los Lagos Region, in the form of tree monocultures. Tree plantations are monocultures of a single tree species, typically fast growing, designed to supply external markets for wood, charcoal, logs and pulpwood. In 2013, Chile's five billion US dollars in forestry exports were primarily sent to China, USA and Japan. A bit of history of the forests in southern Chile Before the Spanish colonization (1598-1810), scattered Mapuche indigenous communities lived in the temperate forests of southern Chile and Argentina, where they had established settlements in forest clearings. Their economy, based on hunting and gathering, ensured the continued presence of extensive forest and high biodiversity. The maintenance of this dense vegetation was crucial for their resistance during their long confrontation with the Spanish Empire. During the 17 century, Mapuche resistance prevented Spanish colonization of the territory, formally establishing their autonomy with the Quillín agreement in 1641, which set the border at the Bíobio river. This relative autonomy ended when Chile declared its independence from Spain in 1810 and Mapuche were made Chilean citizens (1819): the frontier began to slowly disintegrate through land acquisitions, initially by Chilean colonialists, then later, German colonialists (1845). The so-called “Pacification of the Araucanía” in Chile (1860-81) and the “Conquest of the Desert” in Argentina (1879-81) entailed states using violent strategies for land control, burning Mapuche houses and lands. This ended up with the incorporation of 5 million hectares of land to the state of Chile and the reduction of Mapuche territories to 5% of their territory, with about 4 ha per community member. This violent expansion of the Chilean border through military action was motivated by the increase of international trade in wheat, in which central Chile had showed early success, along with the consideration that indigenous peoples were an inferior race and that Mapuche peasant economies were low in productivity. Fire was a useful tool for the expansion of the frontier, as well as for making available rich soils with a high amount of organic matter, to be cultivated with wheat for export. Around 5 million

Actuellement, le sud du Chili est un manteau dichromatique de deux nuances de vert, le vert du pin et le vert-eucalyptus, qui, sous forme de monocultures forestières, couvre près de trois millions d'hectares, de la région d'O'Higgins à celle des lacs. Les plantations forestières sont des monocultures d'une seule espèce à croissance rapide, conçues pour alimenter les marchés avec du bois, du charbon de bois, des grumes et de la pâte à papier. Dans le cas du Chili, ces produits sont exportés principalement vers des pays comme la Chine, le Japon ou les États-Unis, en supposant des bénéfices de plus de 6 billions de pesos chiliens. Un peu d'histoire forestière du sud du Chili Avant la colonisation espagnole (1598-1810), les communautés autochtones mapuches dispersées vivaient dans les forêts tempérées du sud du Chili et de l'Argentine, où leur défrichement leur a permis de s'établir. Leur économie de subsistance était celle des chasseurs-cueilleurs, ce qui garantissait la présence de forêts étendues et d'une grande biodiversité. L'entretien de cette végétation dense a facilité la résistance indigène dans leur longue confrontation contre l'empire espagnol. Au XVIIe siècle, la résistance mapuche a empêché la colonisation espagnole du territoire, et les Mapuches ont formellement établi leur autonomie avec le traité Quillín en 1641, établissant la frontière sur le fleuve Biobío. Cette autonomie relative prend fin lorsque l'État chilien déclare son indépendance de l'Espagne (1810) et que les Mapuches deviennent citoyens chiliens (1819) : la frontière commence à se désintégrer lentement par l'acquisition de terres par des colons chiliens, puis allemands (1845). La "Pacification de l'Araucanie" au Chili (18601881) et la "Conquête du désert" en Argentine (1878-1885) ont impliqué des stratégies étatiques violentes de contrôle territorial, mettant le feu aux maisons et aux terres mapuches, entraînant l'incorporation de 5 millions d'hectares de terres dans l'État du Chili et la réduction du territoire mapuche à 5%, avec environ 4 hectares par communauté membre. Cette expansion violente de la frontière chilienne par l'action militaire a été motivée par la croissance du commerce international du blé, dans lequel le centre du Chili a connu un succès rapide, ainsi que par la considération des populations indigènes comme une race inférieure et le manque de productivité des économies paysannes mapuches. Le feu n'était pas seulement un outil pour l'ex-

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sinas Mapuches. El fuego no sólo fue una herramienta para la expansión de la frontera, sino que también fue útil para hacer disponibles suelos con una gran cantidad de materia orgánica, que pasaban a ser cultivados con trigo para la exportación. Se estima que se quemaron unas 5 millones de hectáreas entre las regiones del Biobío, Araucanía y Los Ríos. La necesidad de leña y tierra productiva derivó en sobrepastoreo, erosión y destrucción de los bosques nativos, transformando a los Mapuche en campesinado empobrecido. En 1931, el gobierno decretó la primera Ley Forestal, que concedió exenciones fiscales a 30 años a los propietarios que dedicaron tierra para plantaciones de árboles. La promoción de las plantaciones forestales se inspiró en la obra conservacionista de Federico Albert, un ingeniero forestal alemán contratado por el estado en 1911, cuya "cruzada nacional contra la erosión" vio en las plantaciones forestales una solución con múltiples beneficios: retención de suelos, reducción de la extracción de los bosques nativos, y fomento de una industria próspera. Esta transformación económica y política fue facilitada, especialmente en sus inicios, por la asociación discursiva que realizó el estado chileno entre el discurso extractivo y el discurso conservacionista: se justificó discursivamente el cambio de usos de suelo hacia lo forestal aludiendo al estado erosionado de los suelos del Sur. Si bien el uso constante del fuego que había supuesto la ampliación de la frontera agrícola a costa del bosque nativo resultó en una erosión evidente, la forma en que se argumentó estuvo influenciada por los intereses de estado de la época. Así, el estado chileno apostó por suplir la demanda del mercado internacional de madera y celulosa, y el centro y sur de Chile era una zona ideal para el extractivismo forestal: disponibilidad de tierras despojadas (pocas reservas mapuches) y despojables (grandes haciendas agrícolas trabajadas por arrendatarios) y características biofísicas favorables para la rotación corta de cultivos forestales. Además, mucho bosque nativo fue desmontado y pasó a ser superficie de plantaciones forestales. Como dato, se estima que el 31% del bosque nativo de las zonas de la costa pasó a ser plantaciones forestales entre 1978 y 1987. Las empresas usaron tácticas coercitivas para que los locales vendieran, como eliminar los derechos de propiedad

hectares were burnt between the regions of Bíobio and Los Ríos. The market for firewood and the need for productive land led to the destruction of native forests, erosion, and overgrazing, transforming the Mapuche into impoverished peasantry. In 1931 the government decreed the first Forest Law, conceding 30 years of tax exemptions to landowners who devoted land to tree plantations. The promotion of tree plantations draw inspiration from the conservationist work of Federico Albert, a German forestry engineer hired by the state in 1911, whose “national crusade against erosion” considered tree plantations as a solution with multiple benefits such as: soil retention, reduction of native forest extractions, and the fostering of prosperous industry. This economic and political transformation was enabled, particularly in the beginning, thanks to the Chilean state’s discourse associating extractivism and conservation. Change of land use to extractive forestry was justified by the evidence of soil erosion in the area. The frequent use of fire for expanding the agricultural frontier at the expense of native forests, did indeed promote soil erosion, however the argument was influenced by the Chilean state’s economic interests in establishing a forestry industry based in tree plantations. Thus, the state of Chile decided to supply the international market demand for timber and cellulose. Central and southern regions of Chile were ideal for forestry extractivism: availability of dispossessed land (a few Mapuche reservations) and dispossess-able land (large agricultural haciendas worked by tenant farmers), together with favourable biophysical characteristics (such as rainfall) that enabled a fast growth rate and shorter species rotation. Also, large areas of native forests were transformed into tree plantations (it is estimated that 31% of the area covered by native forests in the coastal area between 1978 and 1987, was replaced by tree plantations). State and private companies used coercive tactics to push locals into selling their land, by eliminating or not considering communal property rights, exposing crops, livestock and people to pesticides, isolating communities in areas surrounded by tree plantations and fencing tree plantations to prevent access to locals. Many peasants ended up selling and, in many cases, became impoverished urban settlers, losing their bond with their indigenous and/or peasant identities.

pansion de la frontière, mais il était aussi utile pour mettre à disposition des sols contenant une grande quantité de matière organique, qui étaient ensuite cultivés avec du blé pour l'exportation. On estime que 5 millions d'hectares ont été brûlés entre les régions de Biobío, Araucanía et Los Ríos. Le besoin de bois de feu et de terres productives a entraîné le surpâturage, l'érosion et la destruction des forêts indigènes, transformant les Mapuches en paysans appauvris. En 1931, le gouvernement a promulgué la première loi forestière, qui accordait des exonérations fiscales de 30 ans aux propriétaires fonciers qui consacraient leurs terres aux plantations d'arbres. La promotion des plantations forestières s'est inspirée du travail de conservation de Federico Albert, ingénieur forestier allemand engagé par l'Etat en 1911, dont la " croisade nationale contre l'érosion " voyait dans les plantations forestières une solution aux multiples avantages : conservation des sols, réduction de l'extraction forestière locale et promotion d'une industrie prospère. Cette transformation économique et politique a été facilitée, surtout à ses débuts, par l'association discursive faite par l'État chilien entre le discours extractif et le discours conservationniste : le passage de l'utilisation des terres à la foresterie était justifié discursivement en faisant allusion à l'état érodé des sols du Sud. Bien que l'utilisation constante du feu qui avait conduit à l'expansion de la frontière agricole aux dépens de la forêt indigène ait entraîné une érosion évidente, la manière dont elle a été présentée a été influencée par les intérêts de l'Etat de l'époque. Ainsi, l'Etat chilien a choisi de répondre à la demande du marché international du bois et de la cellulose, et le centre du pays ainsi que sa partie méridional était une zone idéale pour les activités d'extraction forestière : disponibilité de terres dépossédées (peu de réserves mapuches) et de terre pouvant encore être dépossédées (grands domaines agricoles exploités par les locataires) et caractéristiques biophysiques favorables à une rotation rapide des cultures forestières. En outre, une grande partie de la forêt indigène a été défrichée et est devenue une zone de plantation forestière. On estime que 31 % de la forêt indigène des zones côtières sont devenues des plantations forestières entre 1978 et 1987. Les entreprises ont utilisé des tactiques coercitives pour que les habitants locaux vendent, comme l'élimination des droits de propriété com-

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comunitaria, exponer a cultivos, ganado y personas a pesticidas aéreos, aislando comunidades rodeadas de plantaciones forestales y vallando las propiedades para evitar el acceso de los locales. Muchos campesinos vendieron sus tierras y acabaron convirtiéndose, en muchos casos, en pobres urbanos y perdieron el acceso a su cultura indígena y/o campesina. Entre 1964 y 1973, el Estado estableció aserraderos, fábricas de celulosa y fábricas de papel, que fueron privatizadas posteriormente. La perspectiva de esta industria emergente llenó el sur de Chile de esperanza económica, incluso para el gobierno de la Unidad Popular de Allende (197073), que esperaba poder resolver los problemas de la pobreza rural del sur y la desigualdad, proporcionando campesinos estables y mano de obra proletaria en el sector forestal. La consolidación del programa neoliberal bajo el régimen militar de Pinochet (1973-90) se constituyó a través de reformas para la liberalización de los mercados de tierras y aguas y la "modernización" de las industrias. El Decreto 701 de 1974 reunió en un solo instrumento los beneficios que distintos instrumentos de fomento forestal habían estado incorporando en los anteriores cuarenta años: franquicias tributarias, garantía de propiedad de los terrenos plantados, créditos especiales, convenios de forestación y subsidios directos a la actividad forestal, dando un respaldo importante a una industria en expansión y subvencionando el 75% de los costos para la siembra. El ochenta por ciento de los pagos de las subvenciones (más de 36 mil millones de pesos chilenos entre 1974 y 1994 ) fue a tres empresas forestales. Por otra parte, muchas de las tierras que fueron redistribuidas entre los campesinos de la reforma agraria (1962-1973) fueron devueltos a sus propietarios anteriores. Veinte años más tarde, una modificación del Decreto 701 (Ley 19.561, 1998) motivó también a propietarios individuales a participar como proveedores de materia prima a la industria: el campesinado chileno y mapuche dejó de ser considerado un obstáculo para la expansión forestal y comenzó a recibir subsidios para la plantación de árboles. Hoy en día, las intervenciones políticas activas de los últimos 40 años han logrado diversificar un poco la enorme dependencia de la economía de Chile en sus productos tradicionales (cobre y nitratos) y el sector forestal contribuye al 3,1% del PIB nacional. Sin embargo,

Between 1964 and 1973 the state of Chile established cellulose factories and paper sawmills, which were subsequently privatised. The prospect of this emerging industry infused Southern Chile with economic hope. Even under Allende’s Popular Unity government from 1970–73 (which was the most revolutionary of times), the reigning forestry ideology continued to be applied and expanded. The stable labour for peasants in the forestry sector was seen as a solution to southern rural poverty and land inequality. The consolidation of the neoliberal program under the Pinochet military regime (1973-90) was implemented through constitutional amendments allowing for the liberalisation of land and water markets and the “modernization” of industries. Decree 701 of 1974 combined various forestry development policies of the previous 40 years into a single piece of legislation: tax exemption, guarantee of ownership of planted lands, special credits, forestry agreements and direct subsidies for forestry activity, giving considerable financial support to the expansion of the industry, and subsidizing 75% of planting costs. 80 percent of subsidy payments were made to the three largest forestry companies in Chile. On the other hand, during the Pinochet dictatorship, many lands that had been redistributed during the agrarian reform (1962-3) were returned to their former owners. Twenty years later, in 1998, a modification to the Decree 701 served as an incentive for individual landowners to become suppliers of raw material for the industry: Mapuche and Chilean farmers, previously seen as an obstacle to the expansion of forestry then began receiving subsidies to plant pine and eucalyptus. These interventions by the State and the private sector over the last 40 years have managed to slightly diversify the Chilean economy, moving it away from traditional commodities of copper and nitrates. Today the forestry sector contributes 3.1% of national GDP. However, the forestry extractive industry has not brought about the social developments that were promised. The four regions with the highest surface of tree plantations show the lowest United Nations' “Human Development” indexes, and those regions where the main productivity comes from forestry, such as Araucanía and Biobío, have almost twice the national average rates of poverty.

munautaire, l'exposition des cultures, du bétail et des gens aux pesticides aériens, l'isolement des communautés entourées de plantations forestières et la clôture des propriétés pour empêcher leur accès local. De nombreux paysans ont vendu leurs terres et ont fini par devenir, dans de nombreux cas, des citadins pauvres et ont perdu l'accès à leur culture indigène et/ou paysanne. Entre 1964 et 1973, l'État a établi des scieries, des usines de pâte à papier et des usines de papier, qui ont ensuite été privatisées. La perspective de cette industrie émergente remplissait d'espoir économique le sud du Chili, y compris pour le gouvernement de l'Unidad Popular de Salvador Allende (1970-73), qui espérait résoudre les problèmes de pauvreté et d'inégalité rurale du sud en fournissant des paysans stables et du travail prolétarien dans le secteur forestier. La consolidation du programme néolibéral sous le régime militaire de Pinochet (1973-1990) s'est constituée par des réformes de libéralisation des marchés fonciers et de l'eau et de "modernisation" des industries. Le décret 701 de 1974 a regroupé dans un seul instrument les avantages que différents instruments de développement forestier avaient incorporés au cours des quarante dernières années : exonérations fiscales, garantie de propriété des terres plantées, crédits spéciaux, accords de boisement et subventions directes aux activités forestières, apportant un soutien important à une industrie en expansion et subventionnant 75% des coûts des semis. Quatre-vingts pour cent des subventions versées (plus de 36 milliards de pesos chiliens entre 1974 et 1994) ont été versées à trois compagnies forestières. D'autre part, une grande partie des terres redistribuées aux paysans de la réforme agraire (1962-1973) ont été rendues à leurs anciens propriétaires. Vingt ans plus tard, une modification du décret 701 (loi 19.561 de 1998) a également incité des propriétaires fonciers individuels à participer en tant que fournisseurs de matières premières à l'industrie : la paysannerie chilienne et mapuche a cessé d'être considérée comme un obstacle à l'expansion forestière et a commencé à recevoir des subventions pour la plantation des arbres. Aujourd'hui, les interventions politiques actives des 40 dernières années ont permis de diversifier quelque peu l'énorme dépendance de l'économie chilienne vis-à-vis de ses produits traditionnels (cuivre et nitrates) et le secteur forestier contribue à 3,1% du PIB national. Cependant, l'industrie extractive fores-

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la industria extractiva forestal en Chile no ha conseguido el desarrollo que prometía. En particular, las cuatro regiones con mayor desarrollo forestal tienen los Índices de Desarrollo Humano más bajos y las comunas con principal actividad productiva la forestal, en las regiones de la Araucanía y el Biobío, tienen un alto índice de pobreza, casi el doble del promedio nacional. Impactos socio-ambientales de las plantaciones En Chile, como se ha documentado en varios países con plantaciones forestales, las comunidades vecinas a las plantaciones identifican diversos impactos socio-ambientales, tales como escasez de agua, falta de acceso a la tierra, deforestación y contaminación asociados a la actividad forestal extractiva. Caminar por los territorios plantados con grandes extensiones de pinos y eucaliptos en el Sur de Chile, es, primero, encontrarse con la ausencia de las personas que decidieron marchar: entre otros factores el monocultivo forestal, en su avance, ha implicado la emigración hacia zonas urbanas. Por otro lado, las comunidades y/o pequeños propietarios que se quedan en el territorio, lo hacen percatándose de las transformaciones territoriales de los espacios que habitan. Además, las comunidades locales no relatan los impactos ambientales de manera aislada, sino que los relatan haciendo referencias a memorias, recuerdos y experiencias de violencia y desigualdad en relación al modelo forestal que les rodea. La escasez de agua y la vulnerabilidad al fuego son aspectos clave que marcan sus visiones del negocio forestal. Agua Se han desarrollado varios estudios académicos sobre hidrología y fisiología vegetal en que se relaciona la escasez de agua con el desarrollo forestal en Estados Unidos, Canadá y Malawi entre otros. El caso de Chile también ha sido estudiado, comprobándose la disminución de la escorrentía de verano, debido al cambio de la cubierta forestal desde bosque nativo a plantaciones forestales en cuencas del centro y sur de Chile. El modelo forestal chileno basado en exportaciones, implica unos ciclos de cultivo de entre 10 y 25 años, dependiendo de la especie utilizada y el sector, que termina con la práctica de cosecha a tala rasa y posterior replante, lo cual perpetúa la presión de uso sobre el agua disponible y la escasez de agua en los territorios. En la tendencia contraria, varios autores han demostra-

Socio-environmental impacts of tree plantations As is the case with many of the world’s tree plantations, neighbouring communities in central and southern Chile identify various socio-environmental impacts, such as shortage of water and land access, deforestation and contamination due to extraction. Walking through the “pine and euca” territories, we find, first, an absence of people: the advance of tree monocultures has led to the migration of rural populations to urban areas. Communities and landowners left behind are well aware of the changes to their surroundings. Local communities share memories and experience of violence and inequality related to these environmental changes. For them, water shortage and vulnerability to fire are key aspects of this activity. Water Several academic studies on hydrology and plant physiology have been carried out, in which water scarcity has been related to forest development in the United States, Canada and Malawi, among others. The case of Chile has also been studied, demonstrating the decrease in summer runoff, due to the change in forest cover from native to plantation in the basins of central and southern Chile. The Chilean forestry model, based on exports, has a cycle of cultivation of between 10 and 25 years, depending on the species used and the sector. The cycle ends with the practice of clear harvesting and subsequent replanting, which perpetuates the pressure of water use and the lack of availability of water in the territories. The opposite of this trend has been noted by several authors observing that a 10% increase in the area of native forest in a basin can increase summer flows by up to 14%. Local communities have been able to bring public awareness of water scarcity related to forestry monocultures, as they are often the first to notice it thanks to their knowledge of the local ecology and territory, and their livelihoods of agriculture, livestock and forestry in which water plays a key role. Those who live surrounded by tree plantations tell of estuaries and wells that have dried up or whose flows have decreased dramatically. The lack of access to water in forested areas of Chile is such that, nowadays, many municipalities in the province of Arauco and in the Biobío Region, where 50-80% land is used for tree plantation, are implementing water distribution systems by means of

tière chilienne n'a pas réalisé le développement qu'elle avait promis. En particulier, les quatre régions où le développement forestier est le plus élevé ont les indices de développement humain les plus faibles et les communes où l'activité productive forestière est la plus importante, dans les régions d'Araucanía et de Biobío, ont un taux de pauvreté élevé, presque le double de la moyenne nationale. Impacts socio-environnementaux des plantations Au Chili, comme cela a été documenté dans plusieurs pays avec des plantations forestières, les communautés qui entourent les plantations identifient divers impacts socio-environnementaux, tels que la pénurie d'eau, le manque d'accès à la terre, la déforestation et la pollution associée à la foresterie extractive. Se promener dans les territoires plantés de grandes étendues de pins et d'eucalyptus dans le sud du Chili, c'est d'abord rencontrer l'absence de ceux qui ont décidé de partir : entre autres facteurs, la monoculture forestière, dans son avancée, a entraîné une émigration vers les zones urbaines. D'autre part, les communautés et/ou les petits propriétaires fonciers qui restent sur le territoire le font en prenant conscience des transformations territoriales des espaces qu'ils habitent. En outre, les communautés locales ne relient pas les impacts environnementaux de manière isolée, mais les relient plutôt en faisant référence à la mémoire, aux souvenirs et aux expériences de violence et d'inégalité par rapport au modèle forestier qui les entoure. La rareté de l'eau et la vulnérabilité au feu sont des aspects clés qui marquent leur vision du commerce forestier. Eau Plusieurs études universitaires sur l'hydrologie et la physiologie des plantes ont été réalisées aux États-Unis, au Canada et au Malawi, entre autres, sur le lien entre la rareté de l'eau et le développement forestier. Le cas du Chili a également été étudié, montrant une diminution du ruissellement estival, en raison du changement du couvert forestier de la forêt indigène vers les plantations forestières dans les bassins du centre et du sud du Chili. Le modèle forestier chilien basé sur l'exportation implique des cycles de culture de 10 à 25 ans, selon les espèces utilisées et le secteur, qui se terminent par la pratique de la récolte et la replantation ultérieure, ce qui perpétue la pression d'utilisation sur l'eau disponible et la pénurie d'eau dans les territoires. A l'inverse, plusieurs auteurs ont montré

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do que un aumento de 10% de superficie de bosque nativo en una cuenca puede llegar a aumentar hasta en un 14% los caudales estivales. Suelen ser las comunidades locales las primeras en darse cuenta y hacer pública su preocupación por la escasez de agua en relación al monocultivo forestal, en base a su conocimiento ecológico local, el desarrollo de sus actividades de supervivencia (agrícolas, ganaderas y silvícolas) en las que el agua juega un rol fundamental, y su conocimiento del territorio. Conversar con las personas y comunidades que viven rodeadas de monocultivos forestales es escuchar historias (o conversaciones entre abuelos, abuelas y sus nietos y nietas) de esteros y pozos cuyos caudales se han secado o han disminuido mucho en los últimos años. La falta de acceso al agua en poblaciones rurales en Chile ha llegado hasta el punto en que en la actualidad, muchos municipios que tienen una tasa entre el 50 y el 80% de su territorio ocupado por plantaciones forestales (como es la provincia de Arauco, en la Región del Biobío) están implementando sistemas de distribución de agua en camiones aljibe a sectores rurales. Esto no sucede sólo en etapas temporales de emergencia, sino que se está repitiendo durante todos los veranos desde el año 2011, y en muchos casos, en todos los meses del año. Como dato, en la provincia de Arauco, 1.294 familias, aproximadamente 5.847 personas, dependen de esta entrega de agua en camiones para asegurar su acceso diario a agua. Fuego Otra de las principales fuentes de vulnerabilidad para las plantaciones forestales es la incidencia de incendios, que suelen ser más comunes en las temporadas de verano. Las características ecológicas de los monocultivos forestales hacen que éstos sean idóneos para la proliferación de incendios (por su continuidad de combustible, alta demanda de agua); también sus características sociales, por ser paisajes que no distribuyen riqueza económica y no vinculan a las poblaciones locales, aumentando así las posibilidades de incendios provocados, descuidos y expansión de los incendios por cúmulos de basuras, etc. La vulnerabilidad a incendios forestales no solo preocupa a las comunidades vecinas en lo que refiere a sus tierras labradas, el acceso a agua limpia (sin cenizas) sino que también hacen peligrar su vida. Recientemente, los incendios en enero y febrero de 2017 entre las regiones

water trucks to rural sectors. This practice is not restricted to isolated, temporary emergency cases, but has taken place every summer since 2011 and in some cases these measures are used all year around. In the Arauco province, 1.294 families, that is 5.847 people depend on truck based water distribution systems on a daily basis. Fire Another important source of social vulnerability in tree-planted areas is the increased incidence of fires, which are more common during the summer. The ecological characteristics of tree monocultures make them ideal for the proliferation of fire, due to the continuity of fuel and their high demand for water. Social conditions around plantations also contribute to fire. Plantations do not distribute economic wealth and do not generate a bond with local communities and so the possibilities for arson, neglect and expansion of fires from zones with trash accumulation increases. The concern of local communities goes beyond the loss of cultivated land and access to clean water (without ash). Fire endangers their lives. In January and February 2017 fire destroyed over 600 thousand hectares, and caused the death of 11 people in the regions of Coquimbo and Araucanía. These fires not only demonstrate the limit of public and private institution to put out firesshow the limitations in the capacity of extinction of public and private institutions in adverse climatic situations, but also show the severe impacts of the extractive forestry sector. However, as it is often the case in other countries, all the data that prove the forestry model to be unsustainable are not taken into considerationdoesn't seem to stick when it comes to fires, assince public and private institutions, as well as the media, shift the blame solely towards supposed arsonists among the local communities. In the Biobio, Araucanía and Los Ríos regions, fires are associated withto the historic conflict between the resisting Mapuche communities that sometimes self-claim responsibility for these acts in the name of their fightstruggle. However, the direct andor indirect indiscriminate attribution of fires by the state and media, as well as the application of the antiterrorist lawss to Mapuche communities, related to this have been recently sanctioned by the Inter American Court of Human Rights Association. The other forest as a means of resistance: ritual and

qu'une augmentation de 10% de la superficie de la forêt indigène dans un bassin peut augmenter les débits estivaux jusqu'à 14%. Les communautés locales sont souvent les premières à prendre conscience et à rendre publiques leurs préoccupations sur la rareté de l'eau par rapport à la monoculture forestière, à partir de leurs connaissances écologiques locales, du développement de leurs activités de survie (agriculture, élevage et foresterie) où l'eau joue un rôle fondamental et de leur connaissance du territoire. Parler aux gens et aux communautés qui vivent entourés de monocultures forestières, c'est écouter des histoires (ou des conversations entre les grands-parents et leurs petits-enfants et petites-filles) d'estuaires et de puits dont le débit s'est asséché ou a considérablement diminué ces dernières années. Manque d'accès à l'eau dans les populations Les zones rurales du Chili ont atteint un point tel qu'à l'heure actuelle, de nombreuses municipalités dont 50 à 80 % du territoire sont occupés par des plantations forestières (comme la province d'Arauco, dans la région de Biobío) mettent en place des systèmes de distribution d'eau par camions citernes dans les secteurs ruraux. Cela ne se produit pas seulement dans des situations d'urgence temporaires, mais se répète chaque été depuis 2011, et dans de nombreux cas chaque mois de l'année. Par exemple, dans la province d'Arauco, 1 294 familles, soit environ 5 847 personnes, dépendent de cette livraison d'eau par camion pour assurer leur accès quotidien à l'eau. Feu Une autre source majeure de vulnérabilité pour les plantations forestières est l'incidence des incendies, qui sont plus fréquents en été. Les caractéristiques écologiques des monocultures forestières les rendent idéales pour la prolifération des incendies (en raison de leur capacité continue de combustion, de la forte demande en eau) ; mais aussi leurs caractéristiques sociales, car ce sont des paysages qui ne distribuent pas la richesse économique et ne relient pas les populations locales, augmentant ainsi les possibilités d'incendies criminels, de négligence et d'expansion des incendies dus aux piles de déchets, etc... La vulnérabilité aux incendies de forêt ne concerne pas seulement les communautés voisines en termes de terres cultivées, d'accès à l'eau potable (sans cendres) mais met aussi en danger leur vie. Récemment, les incendies survenus en janvier et février 2017 entre les régions de

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de Coquimbo a la Araucanía quemaron cerca de 600 mil hectáreas, provocando la muerte de 11 personas. Estos incendios no solo ponen en evidencia las limitaciones en la capacidad de extinción de instituciones públicas y privadas en situaciones climáticas adversas, sino también, al propio modelo forestal. Sin embargo, como suele suceder en muchos lugares del mundo, a pesar de los datos que muestran que el modelo forestal en base a plantaciones no es sostenible, ante la cuestión de los incendios, instituciones publicas, privadas y medios de comunicación suelen volcarse, únicamente, en supuesta responsabilidad de las comunidades locales en provocarlos. En Chile, en las zonas forestadas de las regiones del Biobío, Araucanía y Los Ríos, la intencionalidad de los incendios forestales se vinculan al conflicto histórico del estado de Chile con el pueblo Mapuche. En algunos casos estos incendios han sido auto-atribuidos por las comunidades Mapuche en resistencia; sin embargo, la vinculación directa e indiscriminada del delito de incendio a comunidades Mapuche por parte del estado y de los medios de comunicación, y la aplicación de la ley antiterrorista en relación a estos ha sido recientemente sancionada por la corte interamericana de Derechos Humanos. Las “otras” plantas como resistencias: subsistencia y ritual En contraste con las largas extensiones de monocultivos de especies exóticas, en el Sur de Chile aún es posible encontrar espacios con diversidad productiva, que mantienen algo de bosque nativo y por tanto pueden contar con suelos ricos en materia orgánica, mantenimiento de las aguas en el sustrato, y regulación de los caudales. En contraste a las plantaciones forestales de especies exóticas, que sólo proporcionan madera (para auto-consumo en caso de bosques mixtos o para la venta a las empresas forestales), el bosque nativo del Sur de Chile es además fuente de recursos forestales no madereros. Destacan frutos como el piñón de araucaria (Araucaria araucana), la avellana (Gevuina avellana) y la murtilla (Ugni molinae) y los hongos como los digüeñes (Cyttaria spp.) o los changles (Clavaria coralloides), que los habitantes locales consumen directamente o con procesamientos sencillos. Así mismo, el bosque nativo proporciona gran variedad de plantas medicinales que amplían la autono-

survival. As a contrast to the large monoculture extensions of exotic species, in the south of Chile it is still possible to find areas with productive diversity and remaining native forest, the soils in these places are richer in organic matter and regulate and retain better water. In contrast to the plantation of exotic species exclusively for providing timber, the native forest offers several non-timber forestry products. There is fruit from araucaria (Araucaria araucana), avellano (Gevuina avellana) and murtilla (Gevuina avellana), mushrooms such as digüeñes (Cyttaria spp) and changles (Clavaria coralloides)... all of them are consumed by the locals. The forest also provides a vast array of medicinal plants that expand the autonomy of health care in local communities. Examples are boldo (Peumus boldus), maqui (Aristotelia chilensis), salvia (Satureja multiflora), pingo-pingo (Ephedra chilensis), natre (Solanum ligustrinum), palqui (Cestrum parqui) or quinchamalí (Quinchamalium chilense). In the past, the gathering of these products was an important activity that provided economic benefits, but today the local communities do it as a form of self-consumption. It’s also common to hear local concerns about the decrease of fungi and honey due to the deterioration of environmental conditions. Exotic species for extractive forestry directly stimulated by state organisations such as the National Forestry Corporation (CONAF), who provided pine seedlings and small eucalyptus trees to small, medium and large pieces of land. And because of this, other forest species are slowly disappearing. Many are considered to be weeds between the eucalyptus and pine plantations, so their reproduction is inhibited by mechanical and chemical (fumigation) means. Many peasant communities (Mapuche and otherwise) that have been seduced by the economic benefits of planting pine and eucalyptus (with a 10-15 year margin). Although profits depend on the international timber market, some of these locals allow native species to grow in between the exotic ones, generating mixed forests that have a lower environmental impact as they are cultivated without pesticides and allow the coexistence of other vegetation, useful for both human and non-human species. The diversity of timber also allows the diversification in

Coquimbo et d'Araucanía ont brûlé près de 600 000 hectares, faisant 11 morts. Ces incendies mettent en évidence non seulement les limites de la capacité d'extinction des institutions publiques et privées dans des situations climatiques défavorables, mais aussi le modèle forestier lui-même. Cependant, comme c'est souvent le cas dans de nombreuses régions du monde, malgré les données qui montrent que le modèle forestier fondé sur les plantations n'est pas durable, face aux incendies, les institutions publiques, privées et médiatiques ont tendance à se concentrer uniquement sur la responsabilité supposée des communautés locales pour les provoquer. Au Chili, dans les zones forestières des régions de Biobío, Araucanía et Los Ríos, l'intentionnalité des incendies de forêt est liée au conflit historique entre l'État du Chili et le peuple mapuche. Dans certains cas, ces incendies ont été attribués par les communautés mapuches en résistance ; cependant, la Cour interaméricaine des droits de l'homme a récemment sanctionné le lien direct et aveugle entre le crime d'incendie et les communautés mapuches par l'État et les médias, et l'application de la loi antiterroriste à cet égard. Les "autres" plantes comme résistances : subsistance et rituel Contrairement aux longues extensions de monocultures d'espèces exotiques, au sud du Chili, il est encore possible de trouver des espaces avec une diversité productive, qui maintiennent une certaine forêt indigène et peuvent donc compter sur des sols riches en matière organique, le maintien des eaux dans le substrat, et la régulation des flux. Contrairement aux plantations forestières d'essences exotiques, qui ne fournissent que du bois d'œuvre (pour l'autoconsommation dans le cas des forêts mixtes ou pour la vente aux entreprises forestières), la forêt indigène du sud du Chili est également une source de ressources forestières non ligneuses. Les fruits comme l'araucaria araucaria (Araucaria araucana), la noisette (Gevuina avellana) et la murtilla (Ugni molinae) et les champignons comme les digüeñes (Cyttaria spp.) ou les changles (Clavaria coralloides) que les habitants consomment directement ou par simple transformation, sont remarquables. De même, la forêt indigène fournit une grande variété de plantes médicinales qui étendent l'autonomie dans les domaines de l'autosoin et de la santé. C'est le cas du boldo (Peumus boldus), du maqui (Aristotelia chilen-

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mía en los ámbitos del autocuidado y de la salud. Ejemplos son el boldo (Peumus boldus), maqui (Aristotelia chilensis), salvia (Satureja multiflora), pingo-pingo (Ephedra chilensis), natre (Solanum ligustrinum), palqui (Cestrum parqui) o el quinchamalí (Quinchamalium chilense). Aunque la recolección con fines de intercambio fue una importante actividad económica en el pasado, en la actualidad las comunidades locales consideran la recolección de estos productos como de auto-abastecimiento incorporándolos a su dieta. Sin embargo, también es común escuchar a preocupaciones locales por la disminución de hongos y miel debido al deterioro de las condiciones ambientales. Sin embargo, como he comentando anteriormente, puesto que durante varios años la promoción de plantación de exóticas fue directa, desde organismos estatales como la Corporación Nacional Forestal (CONAF) regalando plántulas de pino y eucalipto a los pequeños, medianos y grandes propietarios, estas “otras” plantas han desaparecido por completo en algunas zonas del sur de Chile. Muchas de estas plantas son consideradas “maleza” entre la continuidad de pinos y eucaliptos, por lo que su reproducción es inhibida mediante técnicas de control mecánico y químico (fumigaciones). Además, son muchas las comunidades campesinas (Mapuche o no) que se han visto seducidas por los beneficios económicos que implican (en márgenes de 10-15 años), aunque las ganancias dependan anualmente de los valores de los productos madereros en los mercados. Algunos de estos propietarios forestales dejan crecer estas “otras” plantas (las nativas) entre los monocultivos, dando lugar a bosques mixtos, que tienen un menor impacto ambiental puesto son cultivados sin fumigaciones y permiten la coexistencia con otras especies y pequeños matorrales para el alimento humano y de los animales. Además, la diversidad de maderas (exóticas y nativas) permite usos variados como leña, construcción de casas, o pequeños trabajos de carpintería. En la resistencia y supervivencia de las estas “otras” plantas, las originarias del territorio, la cosmovisión, política y espiritualidad diaria Mapuche tiene un rol muy importante. La importancia de la tierra (Mapu) para la cultura mapuche es de directa co-dependencia para el sustento de la subsistencia diaria y la biodiversidad presente en los ecosiste-

the use of the wood, such as firewood, construction, and minor carpentry work. The Mapuche worldview, their politics and spiritual practices have a key role in the in the survival and resistance of plants native to the territory. The importance of the land (Mapu) is considered in terms of co-dependency. Livelihoods and biodiversity are associated with the spirits of the forest (Newen), who are still there thanks to those who have kept them and their ecosystems alive for the future generations to use. Thus, Mapuche communities that learn or re-learn about the bond with the native forest, do it from a material point of view (agriculture and silviculture) while also looking for the symbolic bond (culture and identity) through rituals and everyday interaction with the native plants of the territory. Many local inhabitants also express anger and pain as they see their surrounding landscape overtaken by the prevailing forestry model of the green dichromatic desert. In the case of the Mapuche inhabitants, those emotional memories and connections with the earth are combined with their cultural beliefs, which affirm that, in densely planted areas, the spirits are disappearing from the earth due to the expansion of tree plantations and the reduction of water. Without the presence of native plants (and biodiversity of the ecosystem with the emotional, cultural and spiritual components) the survival of the Mapuche culture is endangered. And because of this, while we see the loss of Mapuche culture, there has been resistance and activism since 1990, with an escalation of violent conflict from both the communities concerned and the state strategies of suppression. For many Mapuche, “land” is not the same as “territory”, as ¨land¨ can be reduced to the value of its use and the exchange of geographic space, while “territory” refers to the sovereignty, that is, the capacity and right of people to decide and define their own agricultural, forestry and dietary polices and politics of the places where they coexist. Acknowledging this would involve a structural understanding of the 169 ILO agreement (singed by the state of Chile in 2007) concerning the rights of indigenous peoples, beyond current interventions for individual land restitution, corporate social responsibility mechanisms and the tendency to “folklorize” the uses and customs of Mapuche, peasant and silvicultural identities.

sis), du salvia (Satureja multiflora), du pingo-pingo (Ephedra chilensis), du natre (Solanum ligustrinum), du palqui (Cestrum parqui) ou du quinchamalí (Quinchamalium chilense). Bien que la collecte pour l'échange ait été une activité économique importante dans le passé, les communautés locales considèrent maintenant la collecte de ces produits comme autosuffisante en les incorporant dans leur alimentation. Cependant, il est également courant d'entendre des préoccupations locales au sujet du déclin des champignons et du miel en raison de la détérioration des conditions environnementales. Cependant, comme je l'ai dit tout à l'heure, puisque pendant plusieurs années, la promotion des plantations exotiques a été directe, des organismes d'Etat comme la CONAF (Société nationale des forêts) qui donnent des plants de pin et d'eucalyptus aux petits, moyens et grands propriétaires fonciers, ces "autres" plantes ont complètement disparu dans certaines zones du sud du Chili. Beaucoup de ces plantes sont considérées comme des "mauvaises herbes" entre la continuité des pins et des eucalyptus, de sorte que leur reproduction est inhibée par des techniques mécaniques et chimiques de lutte (fumigations). En outre, de nombreuses communautés paysannes (mapuches ou non) ont été séduites par les avantages économiques qu'elles impliquent (en marge de 10 à 15 ans), bien que les bénéfices dépendent annuellement de la valeur des produits du bois sur les marchés. Certains de ces propriétaires forestiers laissent pousser ces "autres" plantes (les indigènes) parmi les monocultures, donnant naissance à des forêts mixtes, qui ont un impact environnemental moindre puisqu'elles sont cultivées sans fumigation et permettent la coexistence avec d'autres espèces et petits buissons pour la nourriture humaine et animale. De plus, la diversité des bois (exotiques et indigènes) permet une variété d'utilisations telles que le bois de chauffage, la construction de maisons ou les petits travaux de menuiserie. Dans la résistance et la survie de ces "autres" plantes, les plantes originelles du territoire, la cosmovision, la politique et la spiritualité quotidienne Mapuche ont un rôle fondamental. L'importance de la terre (Mapu) pour la culture mapuche est de co-dépendance directe pour le maintien de la subsistance quotidienne et la biodiversité présente dans les écosystèmes, est associée aux forces et aux esprits (Newen) de la forêt, et grâce aux générations qui l'ont

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mas es asociada a las fuerzas y espíritus (Newen) del bosque, y gracias a las generaciones que lo han conservado y futuras que lo usarán. Así, las comunidades Mapuche que mantienen o re-aprenden la vinculación con el bosque nativo, lo hacen desde lo material (cohabitando con la agricultura y pequeña silvicultura) y lo simbólico (como sustento de cultura e identidad), a través de rituales e interacciones cotidianas con las plantas nativas del territorio. En contraste, muchos habitantes rurales, al mirar el paisaje que les rodea- ese desierto verde- expresan emociones de rabia, pena y dolor por lo que el modelo forestal imperante supone en su día a día. En el caso de los habitantes Mapuches, esos recuerdos emotivos y conexiones con la tierra se combinan con sus creencias culturales, que afirman que, en áreas densamente plantadas, los espíritus están desapareciendo de la tierra debido a la expansión de plantaciones de árboles y la reducción de agua. Sin la presencia de las plantas nativas (y de la biodiversidad ecosistémica, cultural, emocional y espiritual que las acompañan) la supervivencia de la cultura Mapuche se hace difícil. Por eso, mientras la cultura Mapuche se ha ido perdiendo por un lado, las movilizaciones y resistencias Mapuche se han reactivado con más fuerza especialmente desde 1990, en que el conflicto violento se ha escalado, tanto desde las comunidades en resistencia como desde las estrategias de represión del estado. Para muchos Mapuche, decir “tierra” no es lo mismo que “territorio”, pues “tierra” puede reducirse al valor de uso e intercambio de un espacio geográfico, mientras que “territorio” refiere a soberanía, es decir al derecho y capacidades de los pueblos de decidir y definir las políticas agrarias, forestales, alimentarias del los lugares con los que co-existen. Entenderlo así supondría una comprensión estructural de lo que supone la ratificación del Convenio 169 de la OIT (firmado por Chile en 2007) al respeto de los derechos de los pueblos indígenas, más allá de las intervenciones actuales basadas en la devolución puntual de tierras individuales, los mecanismos responsabilidad social corporativa y la tendencia a la “folklorización” de los usos y costumbres de las identidades Mapuche, campesinas y forestales-nativas . Consideraciones finales En conclusión, para que en el Sur de Chile en un futuro se pueda seguir hablando de “plantas” y

Conclusions In order for us to speak of the forests of southern Chile in the future, and not exclusively of tree monocultures, the concepts of “plantation” and “forest” should stop being used as synonyms. This is necessary, also, in order to guarantee that the peoples of the land (Mapu = land, Che = people) have access to water and food sources, in a way that they can have the possibility of a dignified livelihood or a Buen Vivir, a life that may transcend the economic development focused exclusively in the production of monetary goods. This can only be possible if the capitalist interests of state and private sector are kept aside from the mid and long-term definitions that

conservée et aux générations futures qui vont l'utiliser. Ainsi, les communautés mapuches qui maintiennent ou réapprennent le lien avec la forêt indigène, le font à partir du matériel (cohabitant avec l'agriculture et la petite forêt) et du symbolique (comme moyen de subsistance de la culture et de l'identité), par des rituels et des interactions quotidiennes avec les plantes indigènes du territoire. En revanche, de nombreux habitants des zones rurales, lorsqu'ils regardent le paysage qui les entoure - ce désert vert - expriment des émotions de colère, de tristesse et de douleur pour ce que le modèle forestier dominant suppose dans leur vie quotidienne. Dans le cas des Mapuches, ces souvenirs émotionnels et ces liens avec la terre se conjuguent avec leurs croyances culturelles, qui affirment que, dans les zones densément plantées, les esprits disparaissent de la terre en raison de l'expansion des plantations d'arbres et de la réduction de l'eau. Sans la présence de plantes indigènes (et la biodiversité écosystémique, culturelle, émotionnelle et spirituelle qui l'accompagne), la survie de la culture mapuche devient difficile. C'est pourquoi, alors que la culture mapuche s'est perdue d'une part, les mobilisations et les résistances mapuches ont été réactivées avec plus de force surtout depuis 1990, lorsque le conflit violent s'est intensifié, tant au niveau des communautés en résistance que des stratégies de répression de l'Etat. Pour beaucoup de Mapuches, dire "terre" n'est pas la même chose que "territoire", parce que "terre" peut se réduire à la valeur d'usage et d'échange d'un espace géographique, alors que "territoire" fait référence à la souveraineté, c'est-à-dire au droit et aux capacités des peuples à décider et à définir les politiques agricoles, forestières et alimentaires des lieux avec lesquels ils vivent en commun. Le comprendre de cette façon suppose une compréhension structurelle de ce qui suppose la ratification de la Convention 169 de l'OIT (signée par le Chili en 2007) au respect des droits des peuples autochtones, au-delà des interventions actuelles basées sur la dévolution ponctuelle des terres individuelles, les mécanismes de responsabilité sociale des entreprises et la tendance au "folklorisation" des usages et coutumes des identités mapuche, paysanne et forestière. Considérations finales En conclusion, pour que dans le sud du Chili, à l'avenir, nous puissions continuer à parler de "plantes" et pas seulement de monocultures, il

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no sólo de monocultivos, es necesario que dejen de usarse como sinónimos “plantación” y “bosque”, para asegurar que las gentes de la tierra (Mapu-tierra, che-gente) puedan tener acceso al agua, alimentación y medios de vida que les permitan un buen vivir. Esto es, una vida que pueda ser vivida y sostenida más allá de los enfoques de desarrollo economicistas, que se centran sólo en la producción de bienes de valores monetarios. Esto sólo puede ser posible si los intereses capitalistas se mantienen al margen de las definiciones de qué tipo de desarrollo rural-forestal, a medio y largo plazo, necesitan las comunidades que habitan los territorios.

est nécessaire qu'elles cessent d'être utilisées comme synonymes de "plantation" et "forêt", pour garantir que les habitants de la terre (Mapu-terre, che-personne, gens) puissent avoir accès à l'eau, à la nourriture et aux moyens de subsistance qui leur permettront de vivre bien. C'est-à-dire, une vie qui peut être vécue et soutenue au-delà des approches de développement économique, qui se concentrent uniquement sur la production de biens de valeur monétaire. Cela n'est possible que si les intérêts capitalistes restent en dehors des définitions du type de développement rural et forestier dont les communautés qui habitent les territoires ont besoin à moyen et long terme.

A r a u c a r i a a r a u c a n a . A l r e d e d o r e s d e P i e d r a A l t a , 2 01 6

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Machi CLAUDINA Hospital de Puerto Saavedra, 2015

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173 Foldo. Boldo. Peumus boldus Monimiaceae

Hijo del Machi PEDRO PANCHILLO Son of Machi PEDRO PANCHILLO Fils de Machi PEDRO PANCHILLO

Recolector de plantas medicinales Medicinal plant collector Collecteur de plantes médicinales Comunidad Romopulli, 2015

ELSA SILVA Comunidad Romopulli, 2015

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Machi MANUEL HUENEQUE Niágara, alrededores de Padre de las Casas, 2016

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WEICHAFE Niágara, alrededores de Padre de las Casas, 2016

KOLLÓN Lago Budi, 2015

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ARMANDO MARILEO Fabricante de instrumentos musicales Mapuche Mapuche musical instruments manufacturer Fabricant d'instruments de musique mapuches Cañete, 2015

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Machi HELENA CALFULEO Puerto Saavedra, 2015

CHITA CRUZ Trutrukero Puerto Saavedra, 2015

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Rewe de Machi PEDRO PANCHILLO Comunidad Romopulli, 2015 Fo k i k o ch k i l l a . C o p i h u e . L a p a g e r i a r o s e a P h i l e s i a c e a e

ANTONIO PAILLAFIL Escultor de tótems Totem Sculptor Totem Sculpteur San Bernardo, 2015

MARÍA TEGUALDA MARIBUR Valle Elikura, 2019

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MARÍA TEGUALDA MARIBUR Valle Elikura, 2019

Melawen. Poleo de monte. Clinopodium multiflorum Lamiaceae

Tr u p a . Ta b a c o d e l d i a b l o . L o b e l i a t u p a C a m p a n u l a c e a e

Araucaria araucana. A l r e d e d o r e s d e l a c o r d i l l e r a N a h u e l b u t a , 2 01 5

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ANTIGUA CASA TÍPICA MAPUCHE OLD MAPUCHE TYPICAL HOUSE VIEILLE MAISON TYPIQUE DE MAPUCHE Comunidad Romopulli, 2015

Raral. Lomatia hirsuta Proteaceae

ARMANDO MARILEO Fabricante de instrumentos musicales Mapuche Mapuche musical instruments manufacturer Fabricant d'instruments de musique mapuches Cañete, 2015

Machi PEDRO PANCHILLO Comunidad Romopulli, 2015

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El otro día escuchaba la radio y alguien hablaba de “indios”, de “indígenas”. Un pobre guevón igual que uno, ¡no más!. Lo esperé afuera de la radio y lo enfrenté: “Mire”, le dije, “Los indios están en la India, hermano. ¡Allá, pero aquí no! Nosotros somos Mapuche Lafkenche, ¡Esa es la palabra!”. Chita Cruz, trutrukero Conversación en la casa de Machi Helena Calfuleo. Febrero de 2015

The other day I listened to the radio and someone talked of “Indians”. A poor ‘dickhead’ just like anyone else! I waited for him outside the radio and faced him: “Look”, I said, “The Indians are in India, brother. Out there, but not here! We are Mapuche Lafkenche, That is the word!”

L'autre jour, j'ai écouté la radio et quelqu'un parlé de « Indiens ». Un pauvre « dickhead » comme tout le monde! Je l'ai attendu devant la radio et je lui ai fait face: « Regardez », j'ai dit: « Les Indiens sont en Inde, mon frère. Là-bas, mais pas ici! Nous sommes Mapuche Lafkenche, c'est le mot! »

Chita Cruz, trutrukero (ritual musician) Conversation in Machi Helena Calfuleo’s house. February, 2015

Chita Cruz, trutrukero (rituel musicien) Conversation dans la maison de Machi Helena Calfuleo. Février 2015

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MARÍA TEGUALDA MARIBUR Valle Elikura, 2019

The Portrait and the Herbarium The Ritual of the Wet Collodion

by /

Vincent Debaene

"We, the artists of Ritual InhabituaI, have done the exact opposite." These were the words we found at the entrance of the exhibition, Mapuche, Voyage en terre Lafkenche, held at the Musée de l'homme from January 18 to April 23,2017. The opposite of what? Of what psychologist and sociologist Gustave Le Bon recommended 135 years ago. Le Bon had presented a paper at the meeting of the Société d'anthropologie de Paris on November 17,1881, "On the applications of photography in anthropology in relation to the photography of the Fuégiens du Jardin d'acclimatation". In it, he recommended moving away from "the old, wet processes or dry processes that are so slow," to "new dry processes with gelatin bromide... of great simplicity". The principle advantage of these new techniques was portability. Le Bon specified that the equipment he had used to photograph the sixteen Fuégiens exhibited at the Jardin d'acclimatation - fourteen of whom were to die during their stay in Europe - "had the volume of a large dictionary". What's more, these new processes allowed for very short exposure times: no need to demand "that individuals remain immobile… we were able to operate in an instantaneous manner", without compromising image quality. The photographs of the Fuégiens are "completely sharp" and "we were able to enlarge them considerably", Le Bon rejoiced 1 . By choosing the archaic wet collodion technique, the artists of Ritual Inhabitual have thus taken the opposite direction to that of Le Bon. They have rejected the laws of progress, portability and instantaneousness; preferring wet rather than dry, slow rather than fast. And they have turned their backs on "complete sharpness". In fact, the photographs that they exhibit are particularly crisp at the centre, the faces appear there very clearly, but as the eye moves away from this centre, the contours fade and the decor becomes blurred until it disappears in a haze of black and white, sometimes spattered with randomly shaped marks, small puddles that pierce the halo from where the bodies seem to emerge. This, at first view, is the formal characteristic of these images: their striking beauty stems from the contrast between the rendering of subjects - whose portraits with their sharp contrasts are almost metallic in brilliance - and the blurry nature of their surroundings. They seem to emerge from an iridescent and volatile mist or liquid, and depending on the subject, we have the feeling that these characters have been held back, caught up in extremis before being engulfed or, on the contrary, that they tear themselves away from this setting and come towards us. This weathering towards the edges of the image, which appear to be damaged, is a consequence of the wet collodion technique itself: the emulsion dries faster on the edges of the plate, which are in more direct contact with the air, and don't have time to be sensitised. Also, the artisanal and time-consuming nature of the process leads to risk and accidents: impurities mingle with the product; the emulsion is not always homogeneous and does not spread uniformly on the plate. Add to these the very real difficulties posed by the design of a mobile darkroom (in the back of a car) and especially by the race against time inherent in the wet collodion technique, whose sensitivity deteriorates with drying. The longer it takes to capture the picture (in the past, once the focus was set, the subjects had to remain still for several minutes, it's a little less than a minute today when flashes are added to the natural light), the faster the development. It requires a combination of haste and precision, a balance that can only be achieved through repeated practice - getting to the darkroom as quickly as possible, the posture during the walk from the camera to the darkroom must compensate for jerks and bumps, maintaining the horizontal position of the magazine, flexibility so that elbows don't knock into anything. It's a full body technique that keeps the image from slipping away, so that it can be secured.

These things are what give the images their singular appearance. But the strongest impression they create is also the fruit of something else. The contrast between the clarity at the centre of the por-

trait and the blackened, damaged edges inevitably evokes the image of burned paper: one has the feeling that these photos have been plucked from a fire. This evokes powerful images of scenes from films, corresponding to intimate experiences that almost everybody can relate to: burning photos always has an element of sacrilege. Where does this sense of desecration come from, the particularly poignant, almost unbearable character of this scene of a burning photograph? First, undoubtedly, the way photographic paper twists under the flame, a twist that evokes the convulsion of a living being. But the trouble engendered by such a spectacle is not only based on analogy, or more precisely, this analogy is a little more than just metaphorical; it is due to the very nature of the photographic image, which is not just a representation, but the trace of a human body. The infinite possibilities of retouching and correction that are the norm today in the digital age, should not make us forget the essential character of photography on film, namely that it is a transfer of reality: there is a causal relationship between the photographed thing and the photographic image. As Rosalind Krauss writes, inspired by the philosopher Peirce, the photograph is "...genetically distinct from painting or sculpture or drawing… On the family tree of images it is closer to palm prints, death masks, cast shadows, the Shroud of Turin, or the tracks of gulls on beaches. Technically and semiologically speaking, drawing and paintings are icons, while photographs are indexes." 2 It is precisely for this reason that the image of the burning photograph is so poignant: it is the burning of the trace of a body - which is the real tragedy, and the closest representation we can find of annihilation: not ageing and the loss of time, but the disappearance of all trace; the erasure not of bodies, but of traces left by bodies. Walter Benjamin said that the aura of photography was based on its ability to capture the "tiny spark of chance, here and now, through which reality, as it were, seared the character in the picture" 3 ; it sets "a peculiar web of space and time" 4 that has been, but will never happen again, and it is all this that we see: both the unquestionable character of the past, its absolute uniqueness, its loss, and the future of which is so large, and is where we are now. This combination of tangibility and radical remoteness creates the aura of a photograph, "the unique manifestation of a distance, however near it may be" 5 . The recognition one feels when discovering the photographs of Ritual Inhabitual is therefore due to a doubling: the fleshly presence of reality that has "burned a hole in the image" is multiplied tenfold by a frame that seems itself to have escaped from a fire. This contrast between the centre and the edges has its own magic. The term frame, by the way, is not appropriate; it is rather an "absolute continuum of the brightest light to the darkest shadow" 6 (according, once again, to Benjamin's words). The use of the archaic wet collodion technique thus allows us to reconnect to the era of photography prior to the reign of the instantaneous that led to an irremediable association between "photography and actuality" 7 . By refusing "advanced optics[...] capable of overcoming darkness completely and of registering objects with the clarity of a mirror", Ritual Inhabitual breaks the link between photography and the desire to render the ephemeral moment as perfectly and as quickly as possible. By favouring slowness and separation (separation from the path of progress, as well as literal and spatial separation, since the scene chosen by the subjects of the images must be isolated and quiet), the photographers give substance to their name and rediscover the ritualisation of old portraits that invited the models "to live inside rather than outside the moment. During the long duration of these shots they grew as it were into the picture and in this way presented an extreme opposite to the figures on a snapshot.” 8

These machi with parchment skin, these rappers whose posture combines pride, mistrust and challenge, these children with their firm and clear eyes, whose oval faces seem to be embellished with

leaves, resurrect the magic of portraits from the earliest times, surrounded by this "breathy halo… that aura which had been removed in just the same way from the picture by more powerful cameras". 9 But while it is true that all photography is fundamentally melancholic, as a trace of a moment that has been and will no longer be, Ritual Inhabitual's photographs do more than document a state of the past: they incorporate into the photographic image both the feeling of loss and the gesture of recovery and rescue. These portraits and landscapes have been pulled from the great fire, from the annihilation that threatened and still threatens Mapuche society, and at the same time they show and render this threat present and visible. In the exhibition, Mapuche, Voyage en terre Lafkenche, this dimension was reinforced by the scenography which placed, in the background of portraits, huge images of endemic plants, collected in bosque nativos, ever-shrinking virgin forests, swallowed by planting of pine and eucalyptus on an industrial scale. The technique of the wet collodion integrates the fragility of these endangered species into the exhibition, and the enlargement of the images in 340cm by 470cm creates a double effect. First, of course, it is a symbolic way of demonstrating their importance in Mapuche traditions and cosmology: that they are much larger than the portraits and that they form the background on which the portraits a placed, underlines their crucial role in the Mapuche culture; it also underlines the catastrophe of their extinction: the disappearance not just of plant species, but of an ecosystem that is not only biological; it is a set of interwoven relationships between man and plant, a sum of knowledge and uses built up over the centuries - in other words, a whole world. Above all, for us the viewers of the exhibition, it creates a very paradoxical effect: we are overwhelmed by fragility; there is a very striking contrast between the gigantic size of the image and the precariousness of these endemic plants piously collected and glued to the fragile backing of the herbarium (or the display case). The result is a strange presence, both massive and ghostly, and it is difficult not to see it as an anticipation of the guilt we might feel if they actually disappear: their 340cm by 470cm images will come back to haunt us. There has been much criticism in the United States of the idea of salvage ethnography, born at the end of the 19th century around Franz Boas's school, which had a sense of urgency about Native North American societies: it was necessary to move quickly to collect the material elements and customs of the Native Americans before it was too late and that they disappear under the road roller of Western civilisation. Nearly a hundred years later, this presumption of an urgent need for collection was seriously challenged, not only because it had been used as an alibi for genuine cultural plundering, but also, in the meantime, it had become clear that these Native American communities were in fact more autonomous and "resilient" than they were supposed to be: they didn't disappear, they adapted, they reformulated themselves according to other modes etc. But Ritual Inhabitual's work isn't that kind of attempt at conservation and rescue. It is absolutely not a question of fixing an immemorial past and preserving its archive, but on the contrary, of incorporating into the Mapuche elements included in the image, the very unbalanced, very asymmetrical relationship that binds us to them, i.e. that made the image possible: We see them, but we also see ourselves as members of a civilisation that wanted them to disappear and contributed to their crushing - and in some ways continues to do so. (To be very clear: this is not a moral question: that I, that we as individuals, do not work towards this crushing and that we can even feel solidarity with the fate of the Mapuche, does not change the situation: the violence of the Conquest is the condition of possibility of the presence of the Mapuche in our universe.) This is a hundred leagues from the

romantic and idealised staging of Edward Curtis who, at the same time as he archived the way of life of Native Americans, identified them as a "vanishing race", objects of inexorable nostalgia "spinning the effects of genocide into a narrative of inevitability, and portraying his subjects as stoic individuals, rather than multifaceted members of diverse communities" 10 . In the portraits by Ritual Inhabitual, it is first and foremost the artisanal imperfection of the process that impresses the eye: the rejection of formal perfection is very clear, especially when compared to the work of other contemporary photographers who also use wet collodion and who often demand the perfection of the plate on its entire surface. There is nothing like this here: chance, luck and the unpredictable are welcomed as an integral part of the creative process. We'll come back to that later. Then, of course, there is the very nature of these portraits: Evangelical preachers (who reject the Mapuche tradition as a "thing of men" and not of God, but think that Mapuche have richer ways of praying than the ways the missionaries taught them 11 ), nuns (that we know play with their cell phones and who are dedicated users of Whatsapp 12 ), rappers from the outskirts of Santiago, etc. It is vital that the representation of Mapuche society is not limited to images of masked dancers and portraits of machis with drums - Mapuche society struggles, but it evolves, adapts, not frozen in an immemorial way of life; this is not an anonymous community whose members are interchangeable, but a group of unique individuals, with their names (Helena Calfuleo, Pedro Panchillo, Audina Huenumilla...), their stories, their projects and their dreams.

A question remains: if it's true that every photograph is a trace - reality itself leaves a print on photosensitive paper, or in this case, on the collodion plate - what exactly are Ritual Inhabitual's photos the trace of? It would be inaccurate to see them as the trace of a particular sociological or cultural reality; if it had been a question of documenting Mapuche society, it would have required both a greater quantity and much broader spectrum of material: places, maps, typical moments, fleeting instants captured in passing etc. Rather, it is the trace of an interaction between the photographers and the subjects represented - a very singular interaction because it is inseparable from the wet collodion process and, to put it bluntly, is the result of the constraints of the process. Let's come back to the characteristics of this antique technique. In 1881, Gustave Le Bon was delighted with the forecast expiry of the wet collodion due to the emergence of dry gelatin-bromide processes. The greater sensitivity of the medium, the simplicity of the process and the lighter equipment would allow the production of anthropometric documents much more reliable than before. We were finally going to reach the ideal of which the process of photography had given us hints since it's earliest iterations: an image that was a pure recording, a sample of reality that was never modified or altered by the presence of the observer, that thus gave us the thing, "as it is". The portrait would join the herbarium; the project of inventory and classification so exemplary in botany (in any case in its 19th century version) could extend to the study of race. The first public collection of daguerreotypes dedicated to human types was created in the 1840s at the Museum of Natural History. In 1867, the chair of anthropology already pointed out that these images could be relied on as specimens of reality itself: "Taken with great care, very accurately, from the front and profile, by Monsieur Potteau, an employee of the Museum, these photographs are true study pieces." 13 But the new processes were even more promising: the lightness of the equipment and the rapidity of the exposure heralded the possibility of the instantaneous and the realisation of the dream of many photographers: to take immediately, by hand (without tripod, without large format camera) and on the spot. Thus one would grasp elements that the human eye itself could

not perceive, following the example constantly brought to mind by the gallop of the horse. This is what Gustave Le Bon points out at the end of his speech: "these absolutely instantaneous images [will make it possible] to capture all possible expressions of physiognomy and to photograph easily a galloping horse." 14 Even better, portability and speed ensured that we could see without being seen, capture individuals as they are, unaware of being observed, and finally eliminate the suspicion of distortion induced by the photographer's presence - how can we ensure, knowing they were seen, that the subject does not alter his physiognomy? Le Bon came back two weeks later to this advantage of the new technique, already briefly mentioned in his communication to the Société d'anthropologie de Paris ("So our savages were caught in the most diverse positions, yet at the same time the most natural"), this time at a speech made at the Société de géographie: "It is only by operating in an instantaneous way that we can obtain natural expressions that art cannot imitate. It is thus possible to photograph individuals very easily without them noticing, which, for the study of certain inferior races, is of great interest. I had a small device built for my personal use, the volume of a cubic decimetre, that renders me precious services for photographing individuals in motion." 15 Anthropological photography of the 20th century is certainly more concerned with customs than human type, more attentive to individual variations as well, but it does not completely abandon this "cynegetic" ideal, secretly informed by the model of hunting: one needs to capture (attract, catch) the natives on the spot and without their knowledge, to take them off-guard, at a moment when they are not equipped, when they lack the capacity to react and adapt to the situation. Photography is generally conceived of as an add-on that helps to control situations in which the observer is at risk of being overwhelmed by the profusion of indigenous life. Marcel Mauss writes, "The difficulties in observing rites arise from the fact that they are secret and simultaneous. In a major ritual, at a single moment, fifteen or twenty people are doing different things. In order to describe and transcribe, help should be sought from sketches, photographs and filming." 16 Marcel Griaule also notes that, in such circumstances, it is necessary to "act as a reporter-photographer, and to take as many photographs as possible". And he adds as an example: "In the commotion of action, we can't note the identity of all the actors. Photography allows groups to be fixed, and so individuals are, in this way, identifiable." 17 All this indicates the photographer relating to the subject as prey, and it is the horror of this hunting metaphor that underlies Claude Lévi-Strauss's denunciation of the ethnological "photo albums": "Poor game caught in the traps of mechanised civilisation, savages of the Amazonian forest [....] I can resign myself to understanding the destiny that is annihilating you, but not be fooled by this sorcery more feeble than your own, which brandishes albums in Kodachrome in front of an avid public, in place of your destroyed masks. Do they believe that in this way they will manage to appropriate your charms? Not satisfied with, or even aware of abolishing you, they have to feverishly gorge themselves with your shadows, the nostalgic cannibalism of a history to which you have already succumbed." 18 "We, the artists of Ritual InhabituaI, have done absolutely the opposite." The use of the wet collodion is therefore a rejection, not just nostalgia. Without being able to rewind the course of history, we can at least go back up the path of this great tale of progress, science and conquest. Firstly, of course, because the subject is aware of being seen and photographed. The image is based on consent, a consent that must be obtained and which requires time, mediation, several days or several weeks of friendly presence and the progressive establishment of a relationship of trust. But also and above all - and here we touch on the true originality of the portrait with the wet collodion - because the photographer cannot see the subject at the time of shooting; on the contrary, the photographer is seen without seeing. Admittedly, the photographer sees the subject as the camera is focussed, but then, it

is the subject from the decor he or she has chosen, that observes the photographer engaging in a curious comedy: After focusing, the photographer must run to the darkroom in the back of the car, prepare the chemical solution while the subject is still in the pose, then return and insert the magazine into the camera - which effectively closes the viewfinder while the plate is exposed, and prevents the photographer from controlling the process. So that the interaction between the "taker" and the subject is specifically an uncontrolled interaction - that is, one that is exempt from any relationship of mastery: the photographer and the subject agree to delineate a singular place and time, and they consent to conceive a portrait that will be the product of this limited space and time, in which neither of them has complete control over what will happen. Of course, the photographers master chemical processes and photosensitisation techniques; of course, the subjects choose their clothing, accessories and produce a representation of themselves - but neither can predict in advance the outcome of this interaction. This abandonment of mastery is essential because of the rupture it introduces into the history of ethnographic and exotic photography. Ethnographic and exotic photography is inseparable from a form of violence, particularly among the indigenous populations of South America, marked by the refusal to be photographed, particularly by the machi of Chile, the pajé of Brazil, or shamans in general who fear that photography may cause illness or even lead to brutal death, often by accident. Because of these technical constraints, the wet collodion makes it possible to thwart the symbolic violence inherent in any photographic shooting when it puts representatives of societies caught in an unequal, colonial or exotic relationship face to face. Ritual Inhabitual's photographs are therefore not portraits in the classical sense, that is, based on a mastery of the image by the taker, the portraitist - who sees what he does, chooses his angles and his framing, and then selects the image that, at least in his view, seems the most faithful to reality. Nor are they portraits in which the photographed subject masters his or her own image - as in the example of contemporary selfie, which is in a sense the culmination of such a desire. It can certainly be said that the rapper and enthroned machi with his drum, choose the image they want to give of themselves, and it is obvious that these portraits are occasions of self-representation, or even self-construction. (For the rest, there is no need to be suspicious of these "identity performances"; we can also welcome, as Benjamin did, the way in which individuals, instead of living “outside… the moment”, decide to occupy it and “as it were, grow into the picture”). But it would be inaccurate to say that this representation is mastered: obviously the Mapuche men and women who posed for Ritual Inhabitual do not know the result of the self-projection that is being asked of them - this is also evident from facial expressions. The image from the wet collodion process is the result of a collaborative disentanglement: the taker and the subject, of one accord, place themselves in the hands of chance.

On the posters for the exhibition, Ritual Inhabitual evoked the design and production of portraits as a ritual. This idea must be taken seriously. A ritual presupposes, first of all, the circumscription of a sacred space and time, out of the ordinary and out of the everyday - the constraints of the wet collodion technique are sufficient to induce such conditions. A ritual is also recognised by the fact that it affects bodies; it is the exemplary place where the knotting of the physical, the psychic and the social asserts itself. Voluntary modification with a distinctive value - circumcision, tattooing, scarification - but also involuntary modification, when the body manifests, unbeknown to the individual, its symbolic nature: illness, healing, "The physical effect on the individual of the idea of death suggested by the collectivity" 19 , to quote the title of Mauss' seminal study. It is anything but insignificant that photographers, Tito and Florencia fell ill during their project. On their return to Santiago after a stay

in Lafkenche territory, they were bedridden by fever after a machi, worried about what he interpreted as the consequences of their visit, reversed his decision and his agreement to be photographed, and asked them to destroy the photos they had taken, or face misfortune. Of course, it is possible to suggest coincidence, but the coincidence is nonetheless troubling; to say "it is a coincidence" is always to rationalise an initial experience, which is that of trouble, of destabilisation. This is something that Freud and the Surrealists understood well: the very notion of coincidence always comes after the fact, to account for a first experience that is the loss of reference points, destabilisation, the questioning of the subject's boundaries - in this case, the physical manifestation of a dysfunctional, unsatisfactory exchange, during which one of the parties felt aggrieved. Because ritual also involves a transaction, often between the living and the dead, or between the world of men and the world of spirits, but also, for example, between initiated adults and young novice adolescents. In this respect, it is important to understand that the exhibition of the Musée de l'homme, Mapuche, Voyage en terre Lafkenche, is only one side of the transaction; On the other side are the digital colour and high-definition portraits that Tito also made and gave in exchange for collodion portraits - we see an exhibition, but if you want to capture the traces left by the ritual as a whole, you have to consider all of these images: the collodion portraits exposed on the walls of the museum and also their counterpart, i.e. the colour portraits exposed on the refrigerators or walls of Mapuche houses. What is this ritual? We can put forward the idea that it is a ritual of recuperation, meaning both to recover or collect used fragments - recuperate in the French sense of the term - but also to rehabilitate, restore, reactivate, resurrect what was dead or what was about to die - recuperate in the English sense of the term. There is a striking analogy between this photographic work by Chilean artists from Santiago and Valparaiso and the experience of Mapuche rappers from Rap Hardcore Pukutriñuke, who combine electric and traditional Mapuche instruments to convey the resistance of their people and claim their heritage. These musicians are children of the second or third generation who have rediscovered their traditions late and in extremis, and have chosen to build themselves in a work of "resurrection". Their music is the result of a labour of re-connection, or revival of a continuity that has been broken: the rupture of geographical continuity due to their exile in the suburbs of Santiago has been coupled with a rupture of generational continuity. Their parents did not speak Mapudungun (the Mapuche language), so they had to refer to their grandparents either to relearn the language or to translate texts they had originally written in Spanish. The most striking example of this recovery operation is that of a young rapper who wanted to be photographed breastfeeding her child in the same posture, dressed and adorned with jewellery meticulously similar to that worn by a Mapuche woman breastfeeding her child on an old anthropological photograph from the Museum of Anthropology in Santiago, taken in 1909. The title of the film Tito Gonzalez Garcia drew from this experience "Je est un autre" (I is Another), is an allusion to the seer letter from May 1871 by Arthur Rimbaud, "For I is someone else. If brass awakes as bugle, it is not its fault. That is obvious to me: I witness the unfolding of my thought: I watch it, I listen to it: I make a stoke of the bow: the symphony makes movement into the depths, or comes in one leap upon the stage." Rimbaud expresses the idea that the poet is subject to forces beyond his control and that he must bring them forth and make them visible or perceptible. This applies almost literally to Mapuche rap, but it also applies to the work of Ritual Inhabitual: "I is someone else" is also what Tito Gonzalez Garcia and Florencia Grisanti might say in person. We can therefore, in conclusion, permit a hypothesis: the experience of exile with all its difficulty, the symbolic violence and the feelings of alienation it entails was also Tito's, since he was born into a family of political refugees, settled in France follow-

ing the assassination of Salvador Allende and the advent of the dictatorship of General Pinochet. He has therefore experienced first hand the discordances that are at the heart of the Mapuche experience today. Indeed, the relationship between the South American nation-states and indigenous peoples is fundamentally ambivalent (this is true everywhere: in Chile, Brazil and Argentina): in this case, the glorifying statement of the Mapuche as descendants of the Araucan, mythical figures of the fierce resistance to the Spanish Conquista, is interwoven with a policy of national integration, based on contempt and indifference towards the same Mapuche, absorbed into a Chilean community conceived as homogeneous. As is often the case, colonisation has multiplied: Hispanic colonialism has been accompanied by indigenous peoples' internal colonialism. The creation of the South American nation-states put an end to the former, but not to the latter. The violence of this interior colonialism is not a conscious and visible reality in the public eye, it must be made to happen, and for the artists of Ritual Inhabitual, the experience of exile in France is what made possible the emergence of this questioning, the discovery in oneself of this "other" in which we do not recognise ourselves, but which constitutes us. This is ultimately the lesson that can be drawn from the integration - unexpected at first glance - of Ritual Inhabitual's exhibition into the unique institutional and cultural space of the Western museum. Whether ethnologists agree or not, the anthropological museum project is inseparable from the violence of colonial conquest (this does not mean that ethnology was "at the service" of colonisation). It is this historical reality that Ritual Inhabitual's photographs bring to light, not in an ultra-critical or ultra-reflective mode (there would be many examples, both ancient and contemporary) but in a more discreet, subterranean, more sensitive mode as well. By hosting this exhibition, the Musée de l'homme agreed to inscribe this violence as part of its history and existence - but it was also a way of reminding us that this history continues, envelopes us and transcends us. Paradoxically, the use of the wet collodion technique, the burnt backgrounds, the blurred landscapes, the apparent archaism of these images indicate that this past has not passed, that is to say that it is not outdated; these faces and these plants have nothing ghostly about them: they speak to us of a present that is ours.

G u s t a v e L e B o n , « S u r l e s a p p l i c a t i o n s d e l a p h o t o g r a p h i e à I b i d . , p . 1 7 l’anthropologie à propos de la photographie des Fuégiens d u J a r d i n d ’ a c c l i m a t a t i o n » , B u l l e t i n s d e l a S o c i é t é f r a n ç a i - 9 Ibid., p. 19 se d'anthropologie de Paris, 1881, p. 758-759..

15 “Les Fuégiens”, speech made at the Société de Géographie de Paris on 2 December 1881, published in the Bulletin de la Société de Géographie, 1883, p. 270.

Manual of Ethnography, ed. N. J. Allen and trans. Dominique Lussier (New York: Durkheim Press/Berghahn Books, 2007 [orig. 1947]), 183-184

Rosalind Krauss, 'Photography in the Service of Surrealism' in Rosalind E. Krauss, Jane Livingston, Dawn Ades, L'amour fou: photography & surrealism, Corcoran Gallery of Art, 1985, p. 31.

Megan Burbank, The Portland Mercury, 2 March 2016, on the subject of the exhibition, "Contemporary Native Photographers and the Edward Curtis Legacy", Portland Art Museum, February 6 - May 8, 2016

1972: "A short history of photography", Screen, Volume 13, Issue 1, 1 March 1972, Pages 5–26 p. 7

Seen Je est un autre, un voyage en terre mapuche lafkenche, directed by Tito Gonzalez Garcia, prod. Ritual Inhabitual, 2015.

Claude Lévi-Strauss, Tristes tropiques, in Œuvres, Paris, Gallimard, Bibl. de la Pléiade, 39-40. Translated for this text by Benjamin Constable

Ibid.

See Marcel Mauss, (Australia, New Zealand) Journal of Abnormal and Normal Psychology 1926 as well as, on the same subject, “The Sorcerer and his magic,” “The effectiveness of symbols” de Claude Lévi-Strauss (chapters IX et X respectively of Structural Anthropology, Paris, Plon, 1958).

4 Ibid., p. 20

5 Ibid., p. 20

Ibid., p. 18

A r m a n d d e Q u a t r e f a g e s , q u o t e d b y N é l i a D i a s , “ P h o t o g r a phier et mesurer : les portraits anthropologiques”, Romantisme 84, 1994, p. 43.

Ibid., p. 8

“Sur les applications de la photographie à l’anthropologie”, art. cit., p. 760.

17 Ibid.

Mapuñuke : Leaf Witnesses Concept and Photographs by Tito González García & Florencia Grisanti (Ritual Inhabitual) Edited by Sergio Valenzuela Escobedo Editorial design & Layout by Ricardo Báez Digital retouching by Nicola Noemi Coppola Editorial management by Mathieu Asselin & Sergio Valenzuela Escobedo (Double Dummy) Poem by Adriana Paredes Pinda Introduction by Tito González García & Florencia Grisanti Essays by Flora Pennec, Jakob Rekedal, Vincent Debaene, Marien González Hidalgo Translated by Benjamin Constable & Alexia Muñiz Published by – – Printed & bound by – – ISBN 978.0.00000.000.0 © 2021 Tito González García & Florencia Grisanti (Ritual Inhabitual), All Rights Reserved

MAPUÑUKE CH To all the people who agreed to be photographed for this book. People from the communities of Romopulli, Deume, Isla Huapi and Huapi Budi.

acknowledgement /

Ariane de Rothschild Sam Stourdzé Monica Allende Emma Bowkett Géraldine Lay Miguel Soto Emma Lewis Margarita Alvarado Benoît Riveros Maria Paz Santibañez Camila Marty Acevedo Hector « Tito » González Vega Julie Hérault Antonio Paillafil Andres Paillaleo Serge Bahuchet Évelyne Heyer Fanny Decobert Frédérique Chlous

Christophe Gottini Miguel Soto Thibaud Morand Silvano Magnone Nicolas Lambert Roberto Paillalef Rodrigo Paillalef Pastor Audilio Painepán Sor Audina Huenumilla Sor Tomasa Huichaqueo Sor Zulema González Jose Ossandón Wetruwe Mapuche Jaime Cuyanao Beto « Chicha con Harina » Oscar Antilef Angel Colihuinca Lisardo Panchillo y familia Juan Paillafil Calfulen

Juan Ñanculef Huaiquinao Fabien Lebonniec Nicolás Bottinelli Aleka Vial Gloria Contreras Hernán Jara Maribur y el valle de Elikura Ximena Acevedo Hugo Grisanti Sofia Marty Maria Eugenia García Laurent Derobert Sebastián Jatz Alexia Muñiz Paula Jimenez Angela Ávalos Helena Calfuleo Rosa Barbosa Rosalia Paillan Ronald Kay

Familia Grisanti Acevedo Familia González García Francisca González Familia Valenzuela Escobedo Flavia Moens de Hase Maximilien Dumenil Paul Timbart Aissa Sadki Gerald Groult Pedro Durán Marcia Covarrubias Juan Angulo Hélène Bergaz Loraine Dumoulin Mauro Dupuis Josefina Fernández Jose Avendaño « Chita Cruz » Aguilar Bilbao Irarrázabal Calfuleo Simon Juraver

Gloria Rojas Richard Faundez Embajada de Chile en Francia Musée de L’Homme Museo Nacional de Historia Natural de Santiago Grisanti + Cussen La Suite Numérique Antik Photo Ilustre Municipalidad de Puerto Saavedra Iglesia Metodista Pentecostal de Piedra Alta Servicio de Salud complementaria del hospital de Puerto Saavedra Congregación Franciscana de Chol Chol Misión Boroa Studio Baxton

HOYVN IÑCHIÑ

MAPUÑUKE CH