“My point is, life is about balance. The good and the bad. The highs and the lows. The pina and the colada.”
― Ellen DeGeneres
In October 1961, Michael C. Rockefeller — the 23-year-old son of New York governor and future vice president Nelson Rockefeller — traveled to the southwest coast of Dutch New Guinea on an artifact-finding mission for the Museum of Primitive Art, which his father had founded in New York in 1957. His objective in that remote region of the world was to make contact with the Asmat, an ethnic tribe that had been living there for more than 10,000 years with only sporadic interaction with the outside world. He would be dead in 2 months.
The Asmat people were what we in the West sometimes consider to be “primitive.” They lived in a complex world of spirits kept in balance by elaborate ceremonies and constant reciprocal violence that included head-hunting and ritual cannibalism. In 1946, the Dutch — who administered New Guinea as a colony — established a police presence among the Asmat, introduced Christian missionaries and outlawed any killing. In 1957, in retaliation for an Asmat raid against a neighboring tribe, the Dutch police executed the three highest-ranking tribal leaders of the Asmat.
Although the Asmat had never killed a single white foreigner, their culture demanded balance in their world for it to survive, so it was into that context that Michael Rockefeller had to die. On Nov. 20, 1961, he was sailing in a small catamaran off the coast of the Asmat settlement when bad weather overturned the boat. Tying two empty gas cans to a belt around his waist for flotation, he swam an estimated 10 miles to the distant shore. Arriving exhausted, he was pulled ashore by a group of 50 Asmats. They recognized him; they had seen him before in their village buying artifacts. His name was Mike. However, the three deaths of their leaders demanded redress. While two men held Michael’s arms, they thrust a spear into his side. They knew what they were doing: It was not personal or done with hate, but balance was restored to their world.
While easy to condemn justifiably such practices in light of our current civilization, it is fascinating to note this overriding principle seems to have enabled the survival of the Asmat people and culture for thousands of years. It is also interesting to consider just how important balance has been in our Western culture as well. A well-known quote comes from Ecclesiastes 3:1, which says “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” Mark Twain put it more plainly when he wrote “What is joy without sorrow? What is success without failure? What is a win without a loss? What is health without illness? You have to experience each if you are to appreciate the other. There is always going to be suffering. It’s how you look at your suffering, how you deal with it that will define you.”
When we survey the world today, it seems there is much out of balance. Whether we are talking about income, land, politics, resources or religion, we hear the voices of many calling out for action that, with calm reflection, seems extreme or even violent. The writer Rohinton Mistry in his outstanding novel, “A Fine Balance,” wrote “You see, we cannot draw lines and compartments and refuse to budge beyond them. Sometimes, you have to use your failures as stepping-stones to success. You have to maintain a fine balance between hope and despair … In the end, it’s all a question of balance.”
In his journal found after his death, Michael Rockefeller wrote down an Asmat proverb we can assume is a millennium in age: “If a man falls in the mud, he cannot get up without any help.” Ultimately, all societies require care and assistance from its citizens. Finding balance means we need to consider our current way of thinking that creates boundaries in our mind and actions. We should not fear boundaries, nor be afraid of destroying them. “Any order,” wrote the philosopher Walter Benjamin, “is a balancing act of extreme precariousness.”
That’s good advice as all of us face a new year full of certainly fear but also unbridled promise. The Asmat used a spear; we can start by simply holding out our hand.
Sey Young is a local businessman, husband, father and longtime resident of Bentonville. Email him at [email protected].