The Keruk and the Nukil:  Redistributing the Wealth

All your private property is target for your enemy. -  Jefferson Airplane

     There was little warfare in Southern California. This is not to say Southern California Indian people never had to defend themselves, their land, and their resources; we know there were occasional skirmishes and battles.   The Cahuilla remember Massacre Canyon when "probably Luiseños" came in and killed all of the Cahuilla who were tending their stand of Chia in San Timeteo Canyon.  The Luiseño had been robbed of their prize grain by the animals of the Europhones and were desperate and hungry.

     Skirmishes over resources and land were common enough that the Kumeyaay had a few cactus fortresses which are still evident near San Diego.  These locations are typically on the tops of hills whose skirts are planted thickly with cactus, thus putting any attacker at a distinct disadvantage.  These hilltops were not long-term refuges for there is no shelter there nor any place to securely stash water and food.

     So why didn't the people of Southern California need fortresses?  Some scholars believe they needed them but didn't use them because of the danger of collapse during earthquakes.  But the elders scoff at the idea that the old people couldn't build a quake-proof house in a fortress style if they had wanted to.  Others believe that resources were plentiful enough and incursions by outsiders infrequent enough for the Southern Californians to live in peace throughout most of the last 5,000 years.  Where do we look for evidence, if there is any, to support the theory of extended peace and prosperity?

     One method of discovering how resources were managed is to look for social systems which minimize social unrest and promote social tranquility.  These are designed to make sure that the needs of the least person are met as sufficiently as those of the greatest person.  This requires the population to value the health and happiness of the community over that of the individual.  The accumulation of personal wealth is welcomed as a result of community prosperity; it is not the product of individual hoarding.  To accomplish this wealth must be redistributed occasionally.

     Various systems have evolved to complete the sensitive business of wealth redistribution; wealth must circulate to maintain its value.  American culture favors taxation and donations to nonprofit organizations as preferred methods of wealth sharing.  Because individual riches are so much admired in our country and because it is easier to maintain than acquire them, the wealth in America has been concentrated in the hands of a very small portion of the population.   This, in turn, has led to crimes against people and their property.

     The Indians of Southern California devised a remarkable system of reciprocity which kept jealousy at a minimum and promoted the economic health of the community.  In addition, I believe it gave Southern California Indian people a unique lifestyle of unparalleled security in their homes and safety for their families.  The system required strict observation of the social contract by all parties as well as a recognition of the difference between accumulating wealth and meeting necessity.  The system relied upon the death of individuals for timing the redistribution of wealth.

     Each death within a community brings sorrow.  It also creates an opportunity to redistribute wealth; we have laws of inheritance which regulate the passing of the property of the deceased on to the next generation of descendants, to whomever the "last will and testament" stipulates, or even to the State.  Most of us know of an incident rooted in inheritance issues, within our own families or the families of acquaintances, which have driven wedges between relatives which may never be removed.  The legal rules of inheritance minimize the occurrence of such fights but do not eliminate them. 

     Indian Southern California had different ideas about the disposal of individual wealth.  Upon the death of a person, all of their belongings were destroyed, usually by burning.  Although some anthropologists believe this is a mechanism for controlling contagious disease, it served the equally important function of minimizing interfamilial fighting over the property of the decedent.  But this is not all.  The wealth of a family was further reduced by the ceremony completed upon the one year anniversary of the death of a loved one.

     Although the form of the ceremony varied from group to group the main thrust was the same, the families of those who died during the previous year gathered to honor the dead and to send them to the afterworld prepared to survive well there.  The name for this ceremony among the Cahuilla was the Nukil.  Among the Kumeyaay it is called the Keruk.  The process was remarkably similar in many respects in both groups, and the results for the living were the same, a reduction of individual and family wealth.

     Preparation for the ceremony began shortly after the death of the person.  Everything which the deceased needed to equip them in the afterlife was made for them.  Gifts were constructed and in more recent times ration goods from the government, particularly yardage were collected.  When the one year anniversary of the death came about, the gifts which had been prepared for the ceremony were assembled and displayed, frequently attached to memorial poles which towered over the ceremonial grounds.  Gifts of money and tobacco were also made.

     A Cahuilla leader sent runners to villages where relatives of the deceased lived.  The runners carried with them valuable strings of shell-disc bead money; these strings were frequently famous and identified by name.  The delivery of the string to the neighboring village signaled that the time for the anniversary ceremony had come.  The families invited to attend were under a social contract to bring to the ceremony whatever they had accumulated in excess of their needs, baskets, food, skins, fibers, shoes, hats; virtually any excess was brought with the attendees.  The excess commodities were consigned to the leader of the hosting family as a repayment for the shell money delivered earlier.

     Among the Cahuilla, the leader of each lineage was called the Páha.  He  supervised the collection and redistribution of the excess goods; he was responsible for understanding the economic situation of each family.  During the next five days he would make sure that all of the goods were redistributed, making sure each family left the Nukil with what they needed, or if all basic needs were met then everyone went home with an equal share of the community's prosperity.

     The Kumeyaay, Luiseño, and Cahuilla have until last century created effigies of the deceased which are burned at the closing of the one-year anniversary of death ceremony.  These mortuary effigies were made by a trained effigist under exacting conditions and with specific materials.  The effigies cost a considerable amount and if a family could not afford the ceremony, it was delayed until they could collect the resources.

   TT Waterman (1910 The Religious Practices of the Diegueño Indians.  The University Press, Berkeley, CA. pp. 313 -314.) wrote of the final burning:

On the seventh night, after dancing till sunrise, they put the images inside the keruk.  Then they put in a great quantity of property, clothing, baskets, beads, and household goods.  Finally, the remaining space is filled with dried brush and the whole set on fire.  While the smoke and sparks shot upward in the early morning sunlight they sing...

... the writer was informed that the ceremony was to make the dead contented "so they would not come back."  After the ceremony, the dead are never mentioned, and signs of grief are discontinued.