Статті в журналах з теми "Aboriginal traditional law"

The exposure in 2006 of horrific cases of sexual violence that allegedly characterised Northern Territory Aboriginal communities, evoked responses dominated by a predictable moral panic. Thus the Commonwealth Intervention of 2007 largely missed its ostensible aim of protecting sexually abused children. This essay moves beyond a moralising analysis to consider relevant social, cultural and historical factors based on specific ethnographic work. First I present a sense of some profound historically established differences and common themes in traditional Aboriginal and mainstream law in relation to the regulation of sexuality. Then I draw on evidence that Aboriginal people embraced the notion of ‘two laws’, even as the new era created profound difficulties in relation to sexual norms. Their ‘right to take responsibility’ (Pearson 2000) was further undermined by ‘Interventions’ that unashamedly diminished the ability of NT Aborigines to govern their own communities. Finally, mainstream institutions that are deeply engaged with Aboriginal communities need to consider the ways they may be perpetuating entrenched difficulties.

Different from their ancestors, most of the Australian Aborigines currently live outside their native land but in a multicultural society under the major influence of Western culture. The assimilation policy, the White Australian policy etc. partly deprived Australian aborigines of their traditional culture. The young generations tend to adopt the western style of living, leaving behind their ancestors’ culture without any heir! However, they now are aware of this loss, and in spite of the modern trend of western culture, they are striving for their traditional preservation. In “Multicultural Australia: United in Diversity” announced on 13 May 2003, Australian government stated guidelines for the 2003-2006 development strategies. The goals are to build a successful Australia of diverse cultures, ready to be tolerant to other cultures; to build a united Australia with a shared future of devoted citizens complying with the law. As for Aboriginal culture, the multicultural policy is a recognition of values and significance of the most original features of the country’s earliest culture. It also shows the government’s great concern for the people, especially for the aborigines. All this displays numerous advantages for the preservation of Australian aboriginal culture.

AbstractSince humanities arise from a specific place and from the people of that place, this article will focus on Peacemaker’s revolutionary teachings about the seed of law. Long before the people from across the ocean arrived here on Turtle Island (North America) there was much warfare happening. According to John Mohawk (2001, para. 1), an Iroquoian social historian, “[t]he people had been at war for so long that some were born knowing they had enemies [but] not knowing why they had enemies”. Peacemaker planted the seeds of peace which resulted in the Kayenla’kowa, the Great Law of Peace (n. d.), which is the basis of the Hotinosh^ni Confederacy. With the burial of the weapons of war under the Great Tree of Peace the Hotinosh^ni were able to develop their rituals and ceremonies to reflect their relationship with creation. This peaceful confederacy was disrupted shortly after the Europeans arrived with their violent imperialistic ways of life. The 1996 Royal Commission on Aboriginal People (RCAP) documented the situation of Aboriginal communities, which was the result of oppressive policies and programs of colonialism. The RCAP also captured the many different voices of the Aboriginal people in their struggle to revitalise their traditional teachings that will make them strong again.

All children, black or white, learn a lot more outside the classroom than inside it. All normal children, by the time they go to school for the first time, have already learnt to speak their mother tongue, have learnt who they are and where they fit into their family or community, and have learnt a vast range of behaviours which are appropriate (and inappropriate) for members of their culture. They have learnt all these through the informal process of socialization which affects all members of every culture throughout their lives. In traditional Aboriginal society, for example, hunting and food preparation skills, the traditional law, patterns of land ownership and important stories from the past, were all learnt informally in the daily life of the family. Only some sacred knowledge would be transmitted formally in a ceremonial context.

The article examines the forms of social organization of the small-numbered indigenous peoples of the North of Sakhalin in the field of traditional fisheries and entrepreneurship in the context of legal pluralism. This method allows us to analyze the coexistence of state and customary law, moral norms and the principles of social entrepreneurship. Methods of legal and social anthropology are used. The study uses the approaches of the UN Expert Mechanism on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. Field materials are interpreted in academic and aboriginal discourses. Federal and regional legislation are evaluated through the study of local practices. A study of the impact of new social institutions on technical equipment and internal legal regulation of economic activities, forms of interaction between fishermen and commercial enterprises, contradictions between aboriginal fisheries and the official environment was conducted. The article is written on the basis of observations and expert interviews collected on Sakhalin Island (Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk, Poronaysky, Noglik, Okhinsky districts) in 2014 and 2019. The reasons for doing business were studied. An assessment is given of modern aboriginal fisheries, based on both traditional knowledge and skills, as well as modern technologies. The article explores the characteristics of indigenous entrepreneurship, which combines commercial and social goals, exchange of gifts and market relationships. Special attention is paid to the evaluation of poaching. Aboriginal entrepreneurship is seen as a means of sustainable development and poverty alleviation. The conclusion proposes measures for the legal regulation of aboriginal fisheries and recommendations developed during consultations with leaders of fishing organizations.

Aboriginal law has developed to require Aboriginal peoples to be “consulted and accommodated” if their rights may be impacted by a government decision, including a government permit or approval of a project of a private proponent. For example, hunting rights often exist throughout a First Nation’s treaty or traditional territory (i.e. far beyond the limits of reserves), and the duty to consult and accommodate can be triggered by mining and other resource development. Contrary to the common understanding of some of those unfamiliar with this area of law, this duty applies not only to activities undertaken under federal authorization, but also to those under provincial authorization. The Crown’s “duty to consult and accommodate” Aboriginal peoples has become a central theme in the discussion of natural resource development in Canada. In response to various decisions of Canadian courts, the Government of Ontario significantly overhauled its Mining Act in 2009 to provide for some consultation with Aboriginal communities. Those changes came in to effect in the spring of 2013. This paper will describe the constitutional duty to consult as it has been described and elaborated on by courts in Canada and some of the implications it has for resource extraction in Ontario. It will then undertake a case study discussing Ontario’s attempt to respond to its duty to consult by amending the Mining Act regime. Finally, the paper will consider the flaws in the Mining Act and the reasons that exploration companies and surveyors working for them should be prudent and pro-active when undertaking intrusive activities in the traditional territories of Aboriginal peoples.

Abstract In 2003, anthropologist Professor Peter Sutton wrote, “To demand of a kin-based society that it produce simple, stable and definitive lists of rights and rights-holders in land and waters is ethnocentric,” and “codification, at least for many such groups, is itself contrary to their own laws and customs.” However, despite warnings by Sutton and others, the structuring of native title and related claims and determinations have continued just as warned against. It is argued here that this phenomenon is the result of attempts to accommodate the demands of non-Indigenous political, legal, and economic structures to have simply defined groups and consequent corporate identities that are recognizable to, and controllable by, dominant non-Indigenous structures. The consequent corporate identities, the Prescribed Bodies Corporate (PBC), are a modern version of the system of king plates of old and more needs to be done to ensure recognition of complex traditional law systems.

On 1 April 1999, Akimiski Island of the western James Bay region of northern Ontario, Canada, was included in the newly formed territory of Nunavut, Canada—an Inuit-dominated territory—even though the Inuit had never asserted Aboriginal title to the island. By contrast, the Omushkegowuk Cree of the western James Bay region have asserted Aboriginal title to Akimiski Island. The Government of Canada by their action (or inaction) has reversed the onus of responsibility for proof of Aboriginal title from the Inuit to the Cree. In other words, the Government of Canada did not follow their own guidelines and the common-law test for proof of Aboriginal title. In this paper, we documented and employed Cree oral history as well as a sea-level retrodiction (based on state-of-the-art numerical modeling of past sea-level changes in James Bay), which incorporated a modified ICE-6G ice history and a 3-D model of Earth structure, to establish that criterion 2 of the test for Aboriginal title has now been fully met. In other words, Cree traditional use and occupancy of Akimiski Island was considered sufficiently factual at the time of assertion of sovereignty by European nations. As all the criteria of the common-law test for proof of Aboriginal title in Canada, with respect to Akimiski Island, have now been addressed, the Cree have sufficient basis to initiate the process of a formal land claim.

The Primordial House System of Governance of Primaeval Niger Delta’s Bonny Kingdom, enhanced by natural law, features as the bedrock of the civilization and good governance (GG) in the Kingdom. The Primordial House System of Governance of Ancient Grand Bonny Kingdom (Ibanise), which is comprised of present-day Bonny Kingdom and Opobo Kingdom, was originated and institutionalized by the Founding Ancestors of the Ancient Kingdom, led by three hierarchical categories of paramount natural rulers of the three tiers of government of the Kingdom, during the Kingdom’s aboriginal era. The hierarchical categories are Ikpangi-Sibidapu (Institutionalized Lineage Heads), Amadapu (Community/District Heads and thus helpmates to Kings/Monarchs [Amanyanapu]), and Amanyanabo (owner of the land/King). The posts, positions or offices of these hierarchical categories, which have been in existence from time immemorial in Bonny Kingdom, are those of honour, traditional public service, trust, social responsibility and statesmanship, which were originated, systematized and institutionalized by the Founding Ancestors of the Kingdom towards the wellbeing of the people, Houses and entire Kingdom. This study employs socio-legal methodology to examine the Primordial House System of Bonny Kingdom and the role of natural law, namely proto-natural law, during the aboriginal era of the Kingdom, before Opobo Kingdom was established from it parent Bonny Kingdom, during the Kingdom’s Civil War of 1869/70. It discusses the premier natural rulers of aboriginal Bonny Kingdom, as well as four generations of Okoloama Ingie KiriFajie, namely Bonny Kingdom (Ibanise), comprised of Fourteen Lineages/Families/Houses. On this note, from a historiographical background, the study makes a case for GG, fair play, social justice and harmonious ways of life in Bonny Kingdom, based on the good, transparent, responsible and accountable stewardship of traditional rulers, towards the wellbeing of the people and sustainable development of the Kingdom, particularly in the realm of apex, peak or paramount traditional rulership of the three tiers of government of the Kingdom, namely the Lineage, Country-House and overall Kingdom-wide tiers of traditional governance in the Kingdom. Besides, this study demonstrates how the aboriginal era of Bonny Kingdom underscores the Kingdom as a classic African primordial sovereign state and civilization, as well as a pride of Ancestral Ijaw nation, which contributed to the development and advancement of Primaeval Niger Delta region and beyond.

AbstractIn 1992 the famous judgment in the Mabo (No.2 case), in the High Court of Australia, determined that the common law of Australia recognised and protected native title claims in accordance with traditional laws and customs. Within six years nearly 800 claims had been lodged with the Native Title Tribunal and 70 per cent of them were in Queensland and Western Australia. Nearly one-third of those claims included areas of sea. Before 1992 scholars had demonstrated that clan estates included marine sections along tropical coasts. Only two claims to seas or sea-bed have been tested in the courts. This paper reviews five questions that will recur in future similar cases. They deal with the location of claims, their possible extent, the evidence that will justify them, the delimitation of successful claims and accommodations regarding the use of claimed seas between indigenous and other peoples.

In 2015, the University of New Brunswick hosted the Kawaskimhon Talking Circle Moot. The moot problem was based on the case of Buctouche First Nation v. New Brunswick. The applicant First Nation applied to the courts for an injunction opposing the New Brunswick government’s forest strategy. The forest strategy increased the annual harvesting of softwood timber while reducing the area of Crown-protected conservation forest. Participants were assigned clients and asked to represent these clients’ interests and perspectives. This article presents the argument made on behalf of the Council of Traditional Elders and Chiefs of the Mi’kmaq peoples. Their interests consist of protecting the traditional lands of the Mi’kmaq people while recognizing that the Mi’kmaq have a legal duty to the forests upon which they depend. The argument is presented as a dialogue between two Indigenous tricksters—Klooscap (a Mi’kmaq trickster) and Wesakechak (a Cree trickster). The tricksters advance their position using Mi’kmaq law. In particular, the tricksters focus on the environmental and constitutional principle of netukulimk. Netukulimk is a theory of sustainability that is offered as an alternative framework to the colonial laws that currently dominate Canadian Aboriginal legal issues. The use of Mi’kmaq law presents opportunities for self-governance by recognizing and applying Mi’kmaq legal obligations to the natural world. This article concludes with a brief commentary on the application of Indigenous law in this fictionalized context and its future as an influence on and alternative to Canadian Aboriginal law.

Many states offer constitutional protection to the traditional lands of indigenous peoples. International treaties protecting ethnic minorities and indigenous peoples also require protection of the rights of indigenous communities with respect to traditional territories. States have followed different routes in identifying the ownership and resource rights of indigenous communities. In Norway, the Courts have traditionally applied the rules on prescription and immemorial usage, developed through centuries in the farming societies of Scandinavia. The legislature has chosen to follow the same approach in the Finnmark area of Norway under the terms of the Finnmark Act (2005). By contrast, in Canada, a settled colony with an English common law tradition, the Courts have developed a sui generis approach to the recognition of Aboriginal title. This article examines the rules for identifying and legally recognising the traditional lands of indigenous people in Norway and Canada with a view to reflecting on similarities and differences.

Many large remaining areas of high conservation value currently lie within Indigenous homelands. The attempts of conservationists to protect such areas from industrial development sometimes come into conflict with the contrary wish of Indigenous populations to benefit from such development. How, in such cases, can the claims of Earth communities to ecological justice be reconciled with those of Traditional Owner communities to Indigenous justice? The dilemma is here examined via a case study, that of a proposed natural gas installation at James Price Point in the far north of Western Australia. It is argued that resolution of the dilemma may require a significant re-visioning of conservation: environmentalists might need to concede to Aboriginal communities the moral ownership of conservation per se, at least in so far as it applies to Aboriginal homelands, and perhaps more widely.

AbstractReforms to Canadian sentencing law in 1996 and the Supreme Court of Canada decisionR. v. Gladue[1999] opened the door to a new normative set of legal practices that endeavour to integrate racial knowledge about offenders’ collective and individual experiences of race relations and oppression into traditional legal criminal practices. One outcome of the reforms and court cases was the formation of dedicated Gladue courts for Aboriginal peoples. This paper explores the formation of Gladue courts, the legal techniques used to produce contextualized racial knowledges, how this information is admitted as evidence before the court, and how this knowledge is used to reframe legal subjects and the risk they pose.

Aboriginal tourism entrepreneurs operating in remote regions of Australia draw on their 60,000 years of heritage to offer unique and distinct cultural experiences to domestic and international tourists. Living and operating in remote climates presents challenges to achieving successful and sustainable enterprises, including extreme weather, substandard infrastructure, distance from policy makers, distance from markets and the commercialisation of culture, which is customarily owned by and for use by traditional custodians, to produce and deliver a market-ready tourism product. However, many remote Aboriginal tourism entrepreneurs nevertheless achieve success and sustainability. This paper builds on the work of Foley to identify the characteristics of successful remote Aboriginal tourism enterprises and Aboriginal entrepreneurs in remote areas and the resourceful and creative business practices used by remote Aboriginal entrepreneurs to overcome barriers to success and finds that ongoing connections to community and culture are a key factor in that success. It also draws on the United Nation’s Sustainable Development Goals to identify how the characteristics of remote tourism entrepreneurs and enterprises promote or inhibit the achievement of sustainability and suggests that they offer a framework for effective support of remote Aboriginal entrepreneurs. It concludes by noting that the industry would benefit from further investigation of the contributions made to sustainability by remote Aboriginal tourism enterprises and their stakeholders.

Taiwan’s indigenous communities have an abundance of unique cultures. Their service industries with local and foreign cultures have opened up distinct opportunities for sustainable development. Despite the enormous potential of aboriginal communities, particular attention should be given to ecology and sustainability. The traditional emphasis on craftsmanship and design is shifting to a new focus on the service industries and experimental design, which is not limited to the design of tangible products. Design concepts are now being applied to service industries that span several fields and are also being used to come up with systematic solutions for real-life problems. However, in the service industry, design experience must be used when introducing design concepts. The problem is how to shift from “High-tech” to “High-touch”, for the aborigines are used to designing products at the usability level. This research proposes a model of experience design for use in aboriginal culture revitalization. Three different cases show how to apply the framework from experience design to local revitalization. Results show that the model can integrate the principles of sustainability into service industries and that it needs to be verified in future studies.

Customary land tenure is normally not based on codified or statutory sources, but stems from customary traditions and norms. When westernised courts have to interpret and adjudicate these customary traditions and norms, the normal rules of statutory interpretation cannot be followed. The court has to rely on evidence of the traditional values of land use to determine the rules connected to land tenure. Previously courts in many mixed jurisdictions relied on common or civil law legal principles to determine the nature of customary land tenure and lay down the principles to adjudicate customary land disputes among traditional communities, or between traditional and westernised communities in the same jurisdiction. Many examples of such westernised approach can be found in case law of Canada and South Africa. The interpretation of the nature of customary land tenure according to common law or civil law principles has been increasingly rejected by higher courts in South Africa and Canada, e.g. in Alexkor Ltd v The Richtersveld Community 2004 5 SA 469 (CC) and Delgamuukw v British Columbia 1997 3 SCR 1010. This paper explores the methodology the courts should follow to determine what the distinctive nature of customary land tenure is. As customary land tenure is not codified or based on legislation, the court has to rely, in addition to the evidence of indigenous peoples, on the expert evidence of anthropologists and sociologists in determining the nature of aboriginal title (in Canada) and indigenous land tenure (in South Africa). The court must approach the rules of evidence and interpret the evidence with a consciousness of the special nature of aboriginal claims and the evidentiary difficulties in proving a right which originates in times where there were no written records of the practices, customs and traditions engaged in. The court must not undervalue the evidence presented simply because that evidence does not conform precisely with the evidentiary standards that would be applied in, for example, a private law tort case.

AbstractWithin common law systems a body of jurisprudence has developed according to which indigenous peoples' land rights have been recognized based upon historical patterns of use and occupancy and corresponding traditional land tenure. Looking at the emerging common law doctrine on aboriginal or native title, this article examines how legal institutions are building a theory on historical land claims through the recognition of indigenous laws deriving from prior occupation. The article analyses how the common law doctrine builds a bridge between past events and contemporary land claims. The aim of this article is to examine to what extent the common law doctrine proposes a potential model for the development of a legal theory on the issue of indigenous peoples' historical land claims. In doing so the article analyses how the common law doctrine compares with international law when dealing with historical arguments by focusing on issues of intertemporal law and extinguishment.

This article draws upon Australian Aboriginal knowledge in traditional law stories and anthropological studies of contemporary African bands. It applies the DAC ontology ( Drath et al., 2008 ) to analyse two collective leadership models developed by forager peoples: one egalitarian ‘upside-down hierarchy’ and one power-symmetric model. Their existence has several implications for leadership research. Firstly, it encourages shared/distributed leadership scholars to shift their current reactive stage toward building theory of collective leadership on its own terms. This may require exploration of alternatives outside the mainstream both in terms of ontology and cases, and this article attempts to show the value in doing so. Secondly, it highlights the importance of power; the concept needs to be considered more explicitly in collective leadership theory. Finally, it shows that collective leadership is not a recent phenomenon confined to modern organizations – but rather a form for achieving conjoint action in human groups, developed by the first peoples on Earth, and still practised.

This article is a call for Canadian Courts to interpret, respect and develop First Nations' rights from the perspective of the aboriginal peoples themselves. McLeod focuses on the First Nations of the North and how their traditional use of oral histories is profoundly affected by the current Canadian rules of evidence. Indeed, the whole concept of the adversarial system, a system based on Western European culture, assumptions, and principles, and its effectiveness in determining the "truth" is shown to be inadequate at addressing the concept of the "truth" as defined by the First Nations. McLeod exposes an inexcusable "cross-cultural clash" occurring within Canadian courtrooms that is causing the rules of evidence to become tools of oppression preventing the oral histories of the First Nations from properly being admitted and given due weight. McLeod continues, however, to suggest ways by which some of the rules of evidence could be utilized so as to effectively allow the aboriginal people the opportunity of presenting their oral histories to the Courts and having them accepted as being valid and trustworthy.

Rapid climate change in the arctic is threatening the life, health and cultural traditions of the Inuit. Although they are among the least responsible for climate change, they are suffering disproportionately from its negative effects. In particular, the inherent link between Inuit land and culture means that their traditional practices are being threatened along with the arctic environment. However, their efforts to obtain redress from those responsible for greenhouse gas emissions have so far been unsuccessful. Claims in common law public nuisance have been plagued by issues of standing, justiciability and causation, and claims at international law are difficult to prove and enforce. It seems that a different approach may be required.This article examines whether the Crown’s fiduciary obligation toward Canada’s Aboriginal peoples might provide a useful conceptual framework for addressing arctic climate change. Although this obligation is typically applied in situations involving Aboriginal lands or distinctive cultural practices, it can arguably be invoked to protect the traditional subsistence lifestyle of the Inuit. Both the fiduciary obligations and the honour of the Crown require a minimum level of consultation and accommodation where significant Aboriginal interests are threatened. This could translate into an obligation to, at least, assist the Inuit in adapting to the changing arctic environment and preserving cultural practices to the extent possible.Les changements climatiques rapides dans l’Arctique menacent la vie, la santé et les traditions culturelles des Inuits. Même s’ils sont parmi les peuples les moins responsables de ces changements climatiques, ils souffrent de façon disproportionnée des effets négatifs de ces changements. Tout particulièrement, comme la culture inuite est intrinsèquement liée à la terre, les pratiques traditionnelles inuites sont menacées en même temps que l’environnement arctique. Par ailleurs, les efforts des Inuits pour obtenir réparation de la part des responsables des émissions de gaz à effet de serre sont restés vains. Les demandes fondées sur la nuisance en common law se sont heurtées aux questions relatives à la qualité pour agir, à la justiciabilité et à la causalité; de plus, en droit international, il est difficile de prouver et de faire valoir des réclamations. Il semble clair qu’une approche différente s’impose.Le présent article examine si l’obligation fiduciale de l’État envers les peuples autochtones du Canada pourrait constituer un cadre juridique utile pour traiter des changements climatiques dans l’Arctique. Bien que cette obligation soit systématiquement reconnue dans les situations concernant des terres autochtones ou des pratiques culturelles distinctives, il est permis de penser qu’elle pourrait être invoquée pour protéger le mode de subsistance traditionnelle des Inuits. Tant les obligations fiduciales que l’honneur de la Couronne requièrent un degré minimal de consultation et d’accommodement lorsque des intérêts autochtones significatifs sont menacés. Cela pourrait se traduire par une obligation minimale d’aider les Inuits à s’adapter à l’environnement arctique changeant et à préserver leurs pratiques culturelles dans la mesure du possible.

History tells us of the overwhelming destructive influence of exotic culture, politics and knowledge forms upon the worldview and wellbeing of Indigenous Australians. The power of dominant culture to oppress, control and dominate traditional Indigenous ways of knowing and being has been identified as a being a crucial influence on the health status, future hopes and aspirations of Indigenous Australians. Fundamental to this assertion is that the alienating effect of the belief in and application of the scientific method in relation to learning and knowing is a phenomenon that is incompatible with the law and cultural ways of traditional Indigenous people. The establishment of the Centre of Clinical Research Excellence (CCRE) is predicated upon and responds to a deep need in our community today to synthesise the ideological and epistemological premises of an increasing range of cultures and world views. It recognises that clinical research, for example, is important to the health of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, but also that the way such research is designed and carried out is also crucial to its potential to effect change in and improve the state of Indigenous health in Australia. This paper examines knowledge principles and processes associated with research in Indigenous communities, explores emerging research trends in science and proposes an epistemological framework for synthesis of traditional approaches with those of the scientific paradigm.

A discussion about Indigenous economies, governance, and laws begins with relationships. These relationships are centered in a place, a traditional territory, and include responsibilities towards that place. Such a relational approach to Indigenous economies is in conflict with capitalist modes of extraction and the settler Canadian court’s narrow conception of the duties of “consultation and accommodation” as the state’s primary responsibility when an activity or project will infringe Aboriginal rights in a traditional territory. The purpose of this article is to explore the conflict between Indigenous economies and state-sponsored extraction drawing on the experience of two Indigenous nations in British Columbia, Canada—the Heiltsuk and Tsleil-Waututh Nations—who are upholding their relationship with their traditional territories through the assertion of jurisdiction. The Heiltsuk continue to challenge the federal Department of Fisheries and Oceans’ permitting commercial herring fisheries, and have dealt with a marine diesel spill using their own legal processes. The Tsleil-Waututh are opposing the construction of another fossil fuel pipeline in their territory that would increase tanker traffic in the habitat of endangered orcas by seven hundred percent by conducting their own assessment of the project based on Coast Salish law. These exercises of jurisdiction demonstrate relations with and responsibilities towards these Nations’ traditional territories that underscore ecosystem health and wellbeing as the foundation of Indigenous economies. While these examples effectively demonstrate the Nations’ responsibility towards their territories, the regimes of state-sponsored extractions require radical reformulation to be able to engage relational processes of consent.

Marine turtles regularly migrate hundreds to thousands of kilometres between nesting beaches and home foraging grounds. Effective conservation of marine turtles requires understanding of migration patterns in order to facilitate regional cooperation across the turtles' migratory range. Indigenous Australians maintain traditional rights and responsibilities for marine turtle management across much of the northern Australian coast. To better understand turtle migrations and identify with whom the Aboriginal people of north-east Arnhem Land (Yolngu) share turtles, we used satellite telemetry to track the migration routes of 20 green turtles (Chelonia mydas) departing from a nesting beach ~45 km south of Nhulunbuy, north-east Arnhem Land, Northern Territory, Australia. All tracked turtles remained within the Gulf of Carpentaria. These results suggest that the foraging habitat for adults of this nesting population may be largely confined to the Gulf, offering an optimistic scenario for green turtle conservation. Given these results and the critical role indigenous people play in conserving and managing marine turtles, we recommend that a formal network of indigenous communities be established as the foundation of a community-based turtle-management strategy for the Gulf of Carpentaria region.

Full TextThe first law enacted in Canada to protect existing Aboriginal rights was section 35 of the Constitution Act, 1982.2 The first law in Canada to recognize the rights of non-human animals as anything other than property has yet to be enacted. The first Supreme Court of Canada (hereafter referred to as the Court) case to interpret section 35 was R. v. Sparrow.3 The 1990 case confirmed an Aboriginal right of the Musqueam peoples of British Columbia to fish for food, social and ceremonial purposes. Since this precedent-setting case, many similar claims have been brought before the courts by way of the fluctuating legal space created by s.35. Many of these cases have been about establishing rights to fish4, hunt5, and trap non-human animals (hereafter referred to as animals). The Court has developed, and continues to develop tests to determine the existence and scope of Aboriginal rights. These tests primarily embody cultural, political and, to a surprisingly lesser degree, legal forces. One of the principal problems with these tests is that they privilege, through the western philosophical lens, the interests of humans. Animals are, at best, the resources over which ownership is being contested. The Euro-centric legal conceptualization of animals as 'resources' over which ownership can be exerted is problematic for at least two reasons. First, the relegation of animals solely to a utilitarian role is antithetical to Indigenous-animal relationships and therefore demonstrates one of the fundamental ways the Canadian legal system is ill equipped to give adequate consideration to Indigenous law. Second, failure to consider animals' inherent value and agency in this context reproduces the human-animal and culture-nature binaries that are at the root of many of western Euro-centric society's inequities. This paper argues that Aboriginal peoples' relationships with animals are a necessary, integral and distinctive part of their cultures6 and, therefore, these relationships and the actors within them are entitled to the aegis of s.35. Through the legal protection of these relationships, animals will gain significant protection as a corollary benefit. If the Court were to protect the cultural relationships between animals and Aboriginal groups, a precondition would be acceptance of Indigenous legal systems. Thus, this paper gives a brief answer to the question, what are Indigenous legal systems and why are animals integral to them? The Anishinabe (also known Ojibwe or Chippewa) are Indigenous peoples who have historically lived in the Great Lakes region. The Bruce Peninsula on Lake Huron is home to the Cape Croker Indian Reserve, where the Chippewas of Nawash First Nation live. The people of this First Nation identify as Anishinabe. The Anishinabek case of Nanabush v. Deer is a law among these people and is used throughout the paper as an example of Indigenous-animal relationships. Making the significant assumption that s.35 has the capacity to recognize Indigenous law, the subsequent section of the paper asks why we should protect these relationships and how that protection should be achieved. Finally, the paper concludes that both the ability of s.35 to recognize Indigenous-animal relationships, and the judicial and political will to grant such recognition, are unlikely. Indigenous-animal relationships are integral to the distinctive culture of the Anishinabek, however the courts would be hesitant to allow such an uncertain and potentially far-reaching right. This is not surprising given that such a claim by both Indigenous and animal groups would challenge the foundations upon which the Canadian legal system is based. There are many sensitive issues inherent in this topic. It should be noted the author is not of Indigenous ancestry, but is making every effort to learn about and respect the Indigenous legal systems discussed. While this paper focuses on a number of Anishinabek laws; it is neither a complete analysis of these practices, nor one that can be transferred, without adaptation, to other peoples. Finally, Indigenous peoples and animal rights and Indigenous law scholars, such as Tom Regan and Mary Ellen Turpel-Lafond, respectively, may insist on an abolitionist approach to animal 'use' or reject the legitimacy of s.35 itself.7 These perspectives are worthy and necessary. This paper positions itself amongst these and other sources in order to reflect upon the timely and important issue of the legal status of Indigenous-animal relationships. I:WHAT ARE INDIGENOUS LEGAL SYSTEMS? The Law Commission of Canada defines a legal tradition as “a set of deeply rooted, historically conditioned attitudes about the nature of law, the role of law in the society and the polity, the proper organization and operation of a legal system, and the way law is or should be made, applied, studied, perfected and taught.”8 Indigenous legal traditions fit this description. They are living systems of beliefs and practices, and have been recognized as such by the courts.9 Indigenous practices developed into systems of law that have guided communities in their governance, and in their relationships amongst their own and other cultures and with the Earth.10 These laws have developed through stories, historical events that may be viewed as ‘cases,’ and other lived experiences. Indigenous laws are generally non-prescriptive, non-adversarial and non-punitive and aim to promote respect and consensus, as well as close connection with the land, the Creator, and the community. Indigenous laws are a means through which vital knowledge of social order within the community is transmitted, revived and retained. After European ‘settlement’ the influence of Indigenous laws waned. This was due in part to the state’s policies of assimilation, relocation and enfranchisement. 11 Despite these assaults, Indigenous legal systems have persevered; they continue to provide guidance to many communities, and are being revived and re-learned in others. For example, the Nisga’a’s legal code, Ayuuk, guides their communities and strongly informs legislation enacted under the Nisga’a Final Agreement, the first modern treaty in British Columbia.12 The land and jurisdiction claims of the Wet’suwet’en and Gitxsan Nations ultimately resulted in the Court’s decision in Delgamuukw,13 a landmark case that established the existence of Aboriginal title. The (overturned) BC Supreme Court’s statement in Delgamuukw14 reveals two of the many challenges in demonstrating the validity of Indigenous laws: “what the Gitxsan and Wet’suwet’en witnesses[es] describe as law is really a most uncertain and highly flexible set of customs which are frequently not followed by the Indians [sic] themselves.” The first challenge is that many laws are not in full practice, and therefore not as visible as they could be and once were. What the courts fail to acknowledge, however, is that the ongoing colonial project has served to stifle, extinguish and alter these laws. The second challenge is that the kind of law held and practiced by Indigenous peoples is quite foreign to most non-Indigenous people. Many Indigenous laws have animals as central figures. In Anishinabek traditional law, often the animals are the lawmakers15: they develop the legal principles and have agency as law givers. For instance, the Anishinabek case Nanabush v. Deer, Wolf , as outlined by Burrows, is imbued with legal principles, lessons on conduct and community governance, as well as ‘offenses’ and penalties. It is not a case that was adjudicated by an appointed judge in a courtroom, but rather one that has developed over time as a result of peoples’ relationships with the Earth and its inhabitants. An abbreviated summary of the case hints at these legal lessons: Nanabush plays a trick on a deer and deliberately puts the deer in a vulnerable position. In that moment of vulnerability, Nanabush kills the deer and then roasts its body for dinner. While he is sleeping and waiting for the deer to be cooked, the Wolf people come by and take the deer. Nanabush wakes up hungry, and out of desperation transforms into a snake and eats the brains out of the deer head. Once full, he is stuck inside the head and transforms back into his original shape, but with the deer head still stuck on. He is then chased and nearly killed by hunters who mistake him for a real deer. This case is set within the legal context of the Anishinabek’s treaty with deer. In signing the treaty, the people were reminded to respect beings in life and death and that gifts come when beings respect each other in interrelationships.16 Nanabush violated the rights of the deer and his peoples’ treaty with the deer. He violated the laws by taking things through trickery, and by causing harm to those he owed respect. Because his actions were not in accordance with Anishinabek legal principles, he was punished: Nanabush lost the thing he was so desperately searching for, and he ended up nearly being killed. This case establishes two lessons. The first is that, like statutory and common law, with which Canadians are familiar, Indigenous law does not exist in isolation. Principles are devised based on multiple teachings, pre- vious rules and the application of these rules to facts. That there are myriad sources of Indigenous law suggests that the learning of Indigenous law would require substantial effort on the part of Canadian law-makers.17 The second is that animals hold an important place in Indigenous law, and those relationships with animals – and the whole ‘natural’ world – strongly inform the way they relate to the Earth. II: CAN CANADIAN LAW ACCEPT INDIGENOUS LEGAL SYSTEMS? If there were a right recognized under s.35 concerning the Indigenous-animal relationship, what would it look like? Courts develop legal tests to which the facts of each case are applied, theoretically creating a degree of predictability as to how a matter will be judged. Introduced in Sparrow, and more fully developed in Van der Peet, a ‘test’ for how to assess a valid Aboriginal right has been set out by the Court. Summarized, the test is: “in order to be an Aboriginal right an activity must be an element of a practice, custom or tradition integral to the distinctive culture of the Aboriginal group claiming the right.”18 There are ten, differently weighted factors that a court will consider in making this assessment. The right being ‘tested’ in this discussion is the one exemplified in Nanabush v. Deer: the ability of Indigenous peoples to recognize and practice their laws, which govern relationships, including death, with deer and other animals. The courts have agreed that a generous, large and liberal construction should be given to Indigenous rights in order to give full effect to the constitutional recognition of the distinctiveness of Aboriginal culture. Still, it is the courts that hold the power to define rights as they conceive them best aligning with Canadian society19; this is one way that the Canadian state reproduces its systems of power over Indigenous peoples.20 The application of the Aboriginal right exemplified in Nanbush v. Deer to the Sparrow and Van der Peet tests would likely conclude that the Anishinabek do have an integral and distinctive relationship with animals. However, due to the significant discretion of the Court on a number of very subjective and politically sensitive factors, it is uncertain that the Nanabush v. Deer case would ‘pass’ Van der Peet’s required ten factors.21 This is indicative of the structural restraints that s.35 imposes. 22 The questions it asks impair its ability to capture and respect the interrelationships inherent in Indigenous peoples’ interactions with animals. For example, the Court will characterize hunting or fishing as solely subsistence, perhaps with a cultural element. Shin Imai contends these activities mean much more: “To many…subsistence is a means of reaffirming Aboriginal identity by passing on traditional knowledge to future generations. Subsistence in this sense moves beyond mere economics, encompassing the cultural, social and spiritual aspects for the communities.”23 Scholar Kent McNeil concludes that: “regardless of the strengths of legal arguments in favour of Indigenous peoples, there are limits to how far the courts […] are willing to go to correct the injustices caused by colonialism and dispossession.”24 It is often not the legal principles that determine outcomes, but rather the extent to which Indigenous rights can be reconciled with the history of settlement without disturbing the current economic and political structure of the dominant culture. III:WHY PROTECT THE ANIMAL-INDIGENOUS RELATIONSHIP? Legally protecting animal-Indigenous relationships offers symbiotic, mutually respectful benefits for animals and for the scope of Aboriginal rights that can be practiced. For instance, a protected relationship would have indirect benefits for animals’ habitat and right to life: it would necessitate protecting the means necessary, such as governance of the land, for realization of the right. This could include greater conservation measures, more contiguous habitat, enforcement of endangered species laws, and, ideally, a greater awareness and appreciation by humans of animals and their needs. Critical studies scholars have developed the argument that minority groups should not be subject to culturally biased laws of the mainstream polity.24 Law professor Maneesha Deckha points out that animals, despite the central role they play in a lot of ‘cultural defences,’ have been excluded from our ethical consideration. Certainly, the role of animals has been absent in judicial consideration of Aboriginal rights.26 Including animals, Deckha argues, allows for a complete analysis of these cultural issues and avoids many of the anthropocentric attitudes inherent in Euro-centric legal traditions. In Jack and Charlie27 two Coast Salish men were charged with hunting deer out of season. They argued that they needed to kill a deer in order to have raw meat for an Aboriginal religious ceremony. The Court found that killing the deer was not part of the ceremony and that there was insufficient evidence to establish that raw meat was required. This is a case where a more nuanced consideration of the laws and relationships with animals would have resulted in a more just application of the (Canadian) law and prevented the reproduction of imperialist attitudes. A criticism that could be lodged against practicing these relationships is that they conflict with the liberty and life interests of animals.28 Theoretically, if Indigenous laws are given the legal and political room to fully operate, a balance between the liberty of animals and the cultural and legal rights of Indigenous peoples can be struck.29 Indeed, Indigenous peoples’ cultural and legal concern for Earth is at its most rudimentary a concern for the land, which is at the heart of the challenge to the Canadian colonial system. If a negotiated treaty was reached, or anti-cruelty and conservation laws were assured in the Indigenous peoples’ self government system, then Canadian anti-cruelty30 and conservation laws,31 the effectiveness of which are already questionable, could be displaced in recognition of Indigenous governance.32 Indigenous peoples in Canada were – and are, subject to imposed limitations – close to the environment in ways that can seem foreign to non-Indigenous people.33 For example, some origin stories and oral histories explain how boundaries between humans and animals are at times absent: Animal-human beings like raven, coyote and rabbit created them [humans] and other beings. People …acted with respect toward many animals in expectation of reciprocity; or expressed kinship or alliance with them in narratives, songs, poems, parables, performances, rituals, and material objects. 34 Furthering or reviving these relationships can advance the understanding of both Indigenous legal systems and animal rights theory. Some animal rights theorists struggle with how to explain the cultural construction of species difference: Indigenous relationships with animals are long standing, lived examples of a different cultural conception of how to relate to animals and also of an arguably healthy, minimally problematic way to approach the debate concerning the species divide.35 A key tenet of animal-Indigenous relationships is respect. Shepard Krech posits that Indigenous peoples are motivated to obtain the necessary resources and goals in ‘proper’ ways: many believe that animals return to the Earth to be killed, provided that hunters demonstrate proper respect.36 This demonstrates a spiritual connection, but there is also a concrete connection between Indigenous peoples and animals. In providing themselves with food and security, they ‘manage’ what Canadian law calls ‘resources.’37 Because of the physical nature of these activities, and their practical similarity with modern ‘resource management,’ offering this as ‘proof’ of physical connection with animals and their habitat may be more successful than ‘proving’ a spiritual relationship. Finally, there are health reasons that make the Indigenous-animal relationship is important. Many cultures have come to depend on the nutrients they derive from particular hunted or fished animals. For example, nutrition and physical activity transitions related to hunting cycles have had negative impacts on individual and community health.38 This shows the multidimensionality of hunting, the significance of health, and, by extension, the need for animal ‘resources’ to be protected. IV: HOW SHOULD WE PROTECT THESE ABORIGINAL RIGHTS? If the Anishinabek and the deer ‘win’ the constitutional legal test (‘against’ the state) and establish a right to protect their relationships with animals, what, other than common law remedies,39 would follow? Below are ideas for legal measures that could be taken from the human or the animal perspective, or both, where benefits accrue to both parties. If animals had greater agency and legal status, their needs as species and as individuals could have a meaningful place in Canadian common and statutory law. In Nanabush v. Deer, this would mean that the deer would be given representation and that legal tests would need to be developed to determine the animals’ rights and interests. Currently the courts support the view that animals can be treated under the law as any other inanimate item of property. Such a legal stance is inconsistent with a rational, common-sense view of animals,40 and certainly with Anishinabek legal principles discussed herein.41 There are ongoing theoretical debates that inform the practical questions of how animal equality would be achieved: none of these in isolation offers a complete solution, but combined they contribute to the long term goal. Barsh and James Sákéj Youngblood Henderson advocate an adoption of the reasoning in the Australian case Mabo v. Queensland,42 where whole Aboriginal legal systems were imported intact into the common law. Some principles that Canada should be following can also be drawn from international treaties that Canada has or should have signed on to.43 Another way to seek protection from the human perspective is through the freedom of religion and conscience section of the Charter. Professor John Borrows constructs a full argument for this, and cites its challenges, in Living Law on a Living Earth: Aboriginal Religion, Law and the Constitution.44 The strongest, but perhaps most legally improbable, way to protect the animal- Indigenous relationship is for Canada to recognize a third, Indigenous order of government (in addition to provincial and federal), where all three orders are equal and inform one another’s laws. This way, Indigenous laws would have the legal space to fully function and be revived. Endowing Indigenous peoples with the right to govern their relationships would require a great acquiescence of power by governments and a commitment to the establishment and maintenance of healthy self-government in Indigenous communities. Louise Mandell offers some reasons why Canada should treat Aboriginal people in new ways, at least one of which is salient to the third order of government argument: To mend the [E]arth, which must be done, governments must reassess the information which the dominant culture has dismissed. Some of that valuable information is located in the oral histories of Aboriginal Peoples. This knowledge will become incorporated into decisions affecting the [E]arth’s landscape when Aboriginal Peoples are equal partners in decisions affecting their territories.45 V: CONCLUSION A legal system that does not have to justify its existence or defend its worth is less vulnerable to challenges.46 While it can be concluded that s.35 has offered some legal space for Indigenous laws and practices, it is too deeply couched in Euro-centric legal traditions and the anthropocentric cultural assumptions that they carry. The most effective strategy for advancing Indigenous laws and culture, that would also endow many animals with greater agency, and relax the culture-nature, human-animal binaries, is the formal recognition of a third order of government. Lisa Chartrand explains that recognition of legal pluralism would be a mere affirmation of legal systems that exist, but which are stifled: “…this country is a multijuridical state, where the distinct laws and rules of three systems come together within the geographic boundaries of one political territory.” 47 Revitalizing Indigenous legal systems is and will be a challenging undertaking. Indigenous communities must reclaim, define and understand their own traditions: “The loss of culture and traditions caused by the historic treatment of Aboriginal communities makes this a formidable challenge for some communities. Equally significant is the challenge for the Canadian state to create political and legal space to accommodate revitalized Indigenous legal traditions and Aboriginal law-making.”48 The project of revitalizing Indigenous legal traditions requires the commitment of resources sufficient for the task, and transformative change to procedural and substantive law. The operation of these laws within, or in addition to, Canadian law would of course cause widespread, but worthwhile controversy. In Animal Bodies, Cultural Justice49 Deckha argues that an ethical relationship with the animal Other must be established in order realize cultural and animal rights. This paper explores and demonstrates the value in finding legal space where cultural pluralism and respect for animals can give rise to the practice of Indigenous laws and the revitalization of animal-Indigenous relationships. As Borrows writes: “Anishinabek law provides guidance about how to theorize, practice and order our association with the [E]arth, and could do so in a way that produces answers that are very different from those found in other sources.”50 (see PDF for references)

In September, 1999, the Supreme Court of Canada (SCC) released its decision inR v. Marshall. Donald Marshall Jr., no stranger to Canadian law, had been convicted of catching eels out of season, without a licence, and selling them, contrary to the federalFisheries Act. He admitted the offences, but appealed his conviction to the Nova Scotia Court of Appeal and then to the SCC on the grounds that the 1760–61 treaties between the Mi'kmaq and the British recognized his right, as a Mi'kmaq, to catch and sell fish, and that this right was protected under the guarantee of Aboriginal and treaty rights in the Canadian constitution. Justice Binnie, writing for the majority of the SCC, overturned the convictions. The Mi'kmaq, he held, did have treaty rights based on the 1760–61 treaties to catch and sell fish, including eels.The Mi'kmaq were delighted. After many years and many appearances before Canadian judges (R. v. Syliboy, R. v. Issac, andR. v. Simon), it appeared that the courts were finally prepared to recognize what the Mi'kmaq had long believed: that the eighteenth century treaties were the foundation of their relationship with Canada, that the treaties were still in force, and that they guaranteed commercial hunting and fishing rights in their traditional territories.

In this theoretical paper, a multidisciplinary framework is structured to enable the formation of a shared understanding of the need to combine education for sustainability, traditional knowledge, transformative learning, systems thinking, and storytelling. The paper summarizes results from some fairly new studies on sustainability implementation in education, recognizes problems, and provides alternative suggestions on how to address problems that prevent the integration of sustainability in education. An increase in ecological illiteracy in society and lost contact with nature seem to occur within the now-growing generation. In research literature, it is largely agreed that systems thinking needs to be developed in order to understand the concept of sustainability. Reviewing research in the field, systems dynamics, simulations, and case studies are highlighted as possible pedagogical tools to emerge in the understanding of sustainability. However, do we still only preform information transformation? To transform both education and society, transformative learning must be adopted. This paper would like to emphasize the capacity of storytelling to make sustainability more easily accessible. Storytelling as a pedagogical tool for learning sustainability is still a bit overshadowed, but the idea of sustainability can be traced far back in aboriginal cultures, where storytelling has been used to transfer traditional knowledge from one generation to the next.

Purpose This paper aims to report on the findings of a qualitative study that explored the views of 53 service providers assisting Indigenous young people (known in Australia as Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander youth) transitioning from out-of-home care (OOHC) in Australia. Design/methodology/approach A qualitative approach was adopted involving semi-structured interviews and focus groups with 53 representatives of state and territory government departments, non-government organisation service providers and Aboriginal community-controlled organisations (ACCOs) across Australia. The project was designed to gain the perspectives of those working within the system and their views on how it interacts with Indigenous care leavers. Interview questions aimed to ascertain the strengths and weaknesses of the leaving care support systems available to this cohort, as well as the key challenges facing service providers in supporting them. Finally, the study aimed to make recommendations for policy development in this area and identify potential best practice service responses. Findings The study found that the OOHC service systems continue to fail Indigenous care leavers, their families and communities. Study findings revealed that Indigenous care-leavers face substantial challenges and that the support systems for those leaving OOHC are often culturally insensitive and ineffective. Many Indigenous OOHC leavers lacked the supports they needed to develop safe and ongoing relationships with their traditional Country, family and communities. To promote more positive transitions and outcomes, effective practice responses were identified, including culturally safe programmes and proportional funding for ACCOs to advance greater self-determination. Originality/value This research is the first national study in Australia to examine the specific transition from care pathways and experiences of Indigenous young people. The findings add to the limited existing knowledge on Indigenous care leavers globally and should inform practice and policy innovations with this cohort in Australia and beyond.

Bronkhorst rightly argued that the Brāhmaṇical religion and rituals were not rooted deeply in the society of Greater Magadha and maintained its tradition of local Dravidian gods due to its situation beyond the eastern limit of purely Āryan Culture. Besides famous Brāhmaṇical Gods, each village of Greater Magadha has its own local non-Brāhmaṇical Dravidian gods, situated in small rude temples or shrines. These locally originated minor village gods are almost always appeased with blood or animal sacrifices followed by offering of śarāb i.e. alcoholic drink whenever a wish (mañnat) is fulfilled. The offered small indigenous animals like chicken or bird are cooked at the shrine and served as prāsād to all. It is believed that the deity will be satisfied after drinking blood and wine and bless you anything in an intoxicated mood. The present paper will locate these village gods through the ‘polythetic approach’ and understand the traditional sacrifices offered. It further intends to explore the relationship between the modern theory and the contemporary indigenous practice in dynamic collaboration with seven components of sacrificial deeds.

The article touches upon the issues of law enforcement and court practice related to the collective rights of aboriginal communities.The purpose of the article is to reveal the content of the right to self-determination through the prism of the most significant cases related to indigenous peoples.The methodological basis of research is the general principles of scientific knowledge, widely used in works in the field of law: system-structural, formal-legal, comparative-legal, historical, methods of analysis and synthesis, analogies, etc. Particular attention was paid to the formal legal method, which was used by the authors of the study to analyze international judicial practice on the rights of indigenous peoples, as well as, in some cases, the national legislation of the countries participating in a particular case.The main results, scope of application. The right to self-determination of indigenous peoples is multicomponent and includes a number of specific elements and facets of interpretation. The authors have made an attempt to reveal the fundamental elements of the right to self-determination of indigenous peoples, which, in their opinion, consist of: the right to sovereignty as such, or autonomy and recognition as collective subjects of law, the right to land and resources, traditional nature management, autonomous education, mothertongue and culture.For each of the above-mentioned elements, a specific case is described, which was considered in international courts, primarily in the International Court of Justice, the Inter-American Court of Human Rights, the ECHR and etc.Conclusions. International recognition of a state through inclusion in the UN General Assembly is impossible without the permission of the Security Council; the issue of “effective occupation” has played and continues to play a large role in the issue of governance and sovereignty over a specific space and territory, and not only settlers, but also traditionally living indigenous peoples play a significant role;Indigenous peoples living in the coastal zone should have the right to dispose of income from the exploitation of the continental shelf; the relationship with the land is not only a matter of ownership and production, but a material and spiritual element that indigenous peoples must fully enjoy, if only to preserve their cultural heritage and pass it on to future generations; the status of “national minority” deprives the indigenous people of priority in the use of land for traditional reindeer herding; means of ensuring freedom of expression of indigenous peoples is an important element for the promotion of identity, language, culture, self-identification, collective rights.

“Home” to more than 150,000 children from the 1870s until 1996, the residential school system was aimed at “killing the Indian in the child” and assimilating First Nations, Métis, and Inuit children into white settler society. It was, in short, a genocidal policy, operated jointly by the federal government of Canada and the Catholic, Anglican, United, and Presbyterian Churches. Children as young as four years old were torn from their families and placed in institutions that were chronically underfunded; mismanaged; inadequately staffed; and rife with disease, malnutrition, poor ventilation, poor heating, neglect, and death. Sexual, emotional, and physical abuse was pervasive, and it was consistent policy to deny children their languages, their cultures, their families, and even their given names. While some children may have had positive experiences, many former students have found themselves caught between two worlds: deprived of their languages and traditions, they were left on their own to handle the trauma of their school experience and to try to readapt to the traditional way of life that they had been conditioned to reject. Life after residential school has been marred for many by alcohol and substance abuse, cycles of violence, suicide, anger, hopelessness, isolation, shame, guilt, and an inability to parent.First Nations leader Phil Fontaine catalysed the struggle for redress in 1990 when he stunned Canada by speaking about his residential-school experience. The second major catalyst was the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples (RCAP) of 1991–1996, which broadly exposed the horrors of residential schools to Canadians and called for a public inquiry.

AbstractLarge scale mineral and petroleum extraction - in fact or in terms of industry projects and government hopeful expectations - has in recent years been one of the main sources of conflict between indigenous peoples and the larger society encompassing them. This is particularly true of Greenland - not because of the numbers or magnitude of projects - but because there is no individual ownership to land in Greenland, in the traditional western sense and some of the traditional sources of conflict have therefore been absent. For a discussion of aboriginal territorial rights in Greenland, it might therefore be appropriate to take your point of departure in the conflicts which may arise between mineral extraction and the traditional Greenlandic land use. I shall therefore shortly review legal data, which may contribute to the solution of such conflicts. By the same process I'll contribute to the understanding of the legal entity, which is endowed with the territorial rights in Greenland, or - popularly speaking: who owns Greenland. While it is generally recognized that the ownership of Greenland is vested in the public or in the society, is has been disputed which society or what public possess the legal claim to that entitlement. The Home Rule Commission For Greenland contributed no solution to this problem, and the "Home Rule Act" simply laid down, that "the permanent resident population in Greenland have basic rights to the natural resources of Greenland".2 The mining acts for Greenland - both the old one from 1965 (rev. 69) and the one adapted to home rule from 1978 - prescribes that mineral concessions shall respect existing (use) rights (§ 3 resp. 8).3 This suggests two issues: 1.: what are the contents of the protected existing rights and as a sub-issue: who are entitled. This first problem is my main subject in the following, while I shall only touch upon the 2. issue: namely, that the authorities in granting concessions have neglected their duty to examine and safeguard prior existing Greenlandic land use rights. This is still current practice and represent a major reason for the fact that the main issue has yet to be solved. I shall subsequently contribute to the elucidation of existing Greenlandic land use rights by discussing: 1) localized rights, 2) the more general Greenlandic territorial rights and finally 3) the issue of the protection of these Greenlandic rights according to the Danish constitution (§ 73).

Since 1986 the Conservation Commission of the Northern Territory has operated a programme to remove 'problem' saltwater crocodiles from waters in and adjoining the township of Nhulunbuy. Over a period of five years, 52 different saltwater crocodiles (44 male) were captured. Most (48) were released at remote sites designated by the traditional Aboriginal owners of the surrounding lands. Release distances from the township varied from 17 to 282 km (by coastline). Many crocodiles (47.9%), including those released at the most distant sites, returned to, and were subsequently recaptured at, the township. Total capture rates (initial captures and recaptures pooled) varied seasonally, with fewer crocodiles being caught in the cooler dry season. During the wet season capture rates remained high, but relatively fewer 'new' crocodiles were caught. Probability of recapture could not be related to distance and direction of release from the township, nor size and sex of the released crocodile. Frequency of capture of individual crocodiles (1-8 times) was also unrelated to these variables. The high rates of return indicate that relocation is unlikely to be an effective strategy for managing humancrocodile interactions, at least in areas where potential release sites already support saltwater crocodile populations near carrying capacity.

Few cross-cultural environmental research partnerships exist in New Zealand where Māori have been given the autonomy or resources to govern the decision-making process. Māori representatives and scientists from two collaborative research partnerships in New Zealand were interviewed to determine conditions required for successful partnerships, the costs and benefits involved and the roles of kaitiakitanga (environmental guardianship by Māori) and mātauranga (Māori traditional knowledge). Ninety per cent of Māori participants reported that a collaborative partnership should be defined by equitable power sharing and decision-making responsibility, however all the scientists perceived the term was ambiguous and was represented in New Zealand by a continuum of weak to strong power-sharing relationships. Developing trust, distilling and communicating scientific concepts and results, facilitating access to traditional knowledge and building scientific capability within a community can be fundamental to the success of a strong collaborative partnership, but demands a large time commitment, and at times a re-evaluation of priorities, from scientists. Kaitiakitanga and mātauranga can be key to directing and guiding research, but may require scientists to adapt and work within unfamiliar cultural systems. Strong collaborative research has a role to play initiating dialogue and partnership-building, demonstrating environmental, justice, economic and social outcomes, and indirectly building a consciousness in society about problem definition and potential solutions could that lead naturally to co-management of the environment by aboriginal communities and local or central governments.

The Noongar people of the federal state of Western Australia have recently entered into what can be described as the most comprehensive settlement of a native title claim that spans an area of 200 000 square kilometres. The Settlement lays the foundation of a sui generis model for indigenous and minority self-determination in Australia and beyond. The Settlement sits between the spheres of public law and private law and provides for a form of non-territorial autonomy that is unique not only to Australia. The Noongar people are acknowledged as the traditional owners of the entire area, albeit that major other towns and cities are located in the area and the Noongar people only constitute very small minority. Whereas the topic of non-territorial self-government has been mainly explored in theory and in practice in the European domain, the Noongar Settlement shows how the principles that embody non-territorial autonomy may find root in other parts of the world. The potential relevance of the Noongar Settlement for non-territorial self-government of Aboriginal people or other minorities lies in four essential elements: firstly, creating for the Noongar people legal Corporations by statute for purposes of their self-government; secondly, decentralising powers and functions to the Corporations to enable them to perform the functions of a community government to its members; thirdly, to enable the elected Corporations to develop policies, make decisions and deliver pubic services on a personal rather than a geographical basis to the members of the community; and fourthly, to allow the Corporations to cooperate with and engage other levels of government within the system of intergovernmental relations in Australia. The Noongar Corporations, in effect, have the hallmarks of a fourth level government and represent a potential sui generis model for indigenous and minority non-territorial self-government.

The transition from traditional high to modern low fertility is in the forefront of empirical and theoretical investigations in contemporary aboriginal demography. The challenging question therein remains why its fertility has started to decline a century or so after the rest of Canada, and why it continues to trail the latter by a considerable lag. The objective of this paper is to present a history-based explanatory framework of the childbearing behaviour of Canadian aboriginal peoples, as it has evolved over time from the very first contact with Europeans to our day. Turning to existing theories for possible elucidation of these idiosyncrasies, we find that while accounting for certain aspects, they leave others unexplained. History provides a more satisfying explanation when we cast an eye not on the “abstract” population, “ideal-type” or what we today like to call “model”, but on real population, or family thereof, in its spatio-temporal context. The “between-two-cultures” paradigm presented here, based on ethnocentricity and dependency, could be seen as a an explanatory paradigm of competing forces on the Canadian aboriginals: on the one hand, those pushing toward modern norms of childbearing; and on the other, traditional values and structures, as shattered as they are, with their pro-natalist ideologies resisting normative changes.

This article compares recent Aboriginal rights and labour relations court decisions to assess the way the Canadian jurisprudence has conceptualized the duty to consult. While traditionally the duty to consult has been considered a constitutional duty, enshrined in section 35(1) of the Constitution Act, 1982 and section 2(d) of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, the author suggests that courts have had great difficulty conceptualizing this duty as a constitutionally required process. The author’s analysis reviews the sources and purposes of constitutional duties to consult and the hurdles the courts have faced in applying the duty meaningfully, and drawing on concepts from administrative law, offers a tentative solution to the problem of making consultative practices effective.

More than one-third of the terrestrial mammal species of the central deserts of Australia have vanished in the past 50 years. Few of these have been the subject of even preliminary scientific study, and data as basic as geographic range and preferred habitat are lacking for many species. Aborigines, many of whom lived traditionally in the central deserts until recently, still retain a profound knowledge of the mammals, but this knowledge, too, is fast disappearing. Aboriginal people living in communities scattered through and around the edges of the 1645 000 km2 of the study area, comprising the Great Sandy, Little Sandy, Tanami, Gibson and Great Victoria Deserts and the Central Ranges district, were shown museum skins and asked to provide information about local names, current and past status, and aspects of biology and ecology. Most species, including some thought to have become extinct early this century, persisted in the deserts until 30–50 years ago. New data are presented on former distribution and on the biology and ecology of many species. The mammal fauna of the central deserts was richer and more widespread than generally believed, but the area has suffered a massive and sudden loss of species, probably unparalleled in extent elsewhere in Australia.

Abstract The right of Australian Indigenous groups to own traditional lands has been a contentious issue in the recent history of Australia. Indeed, Aborigines and Torres Strait Islanders did not consider themselves as full citizens in the country they had inhabited for millennia until the late 1960s, and then only after a long campaign and a national referendum (1967) in favour of changes to the Australian Constitution to remove restrictions on the services available to Indigenous Australians. The concept of terra nullius, misapplied to Australia, was strong in the popular imagination among the descendants of settlers or recent migrants and was not definitively put to rest until the Mabo decision (1992), which also established a firm precedent for the recognition of native title. This path to equality was fraught and made lengthy by the fact that the worldviews of the Indigenous Australians (i.e. Aborigines and Torres Strait Islanders) and the European (mainly British and Irish) settlers were so different, at least at a superficial level, this being the level at which prejudice is typically manifested. One area where this fact is particularly evident is in the area of the conceptualisation of property and especially the notion of land “ownership” and “use”. In this paper, we will focus on these terms, examining the linguistic evidence of some of the Australian languages spoken traditionally by Indigenous Australians as one means (the only one in many cases) of gaining an insight into their worldview, comparing it with that underlying the English language. We will show that the conceptualisations manifested in the two languages are contrasting but not irreconcilable, and indeed the ability of both groups of speakers (or their descendants in the case of many endangered Australian languages) to reach agreement and come to develop an understanding of the other’s perspective is reason for celebration for all Australians.

The subject of this research is the traditional representations of the indigenous small-numbered peoples of the North that reflect the system of punishments and protection of their infringed rights when they commit a crime in a community living by the traditional culture. The article employs the following sources: codes of customary law created in Russia in the XIX century, as well as ethnographic data that include field materials collected by the authors in 2019 – 2020, and published sources that reflect the norms of customary law of the indigenous peoples of the North in the XIX – early XX centuries. The goal of this work consists in revealing the peculiarities of traditional views of the indigenous peoples of the North in the sphere of criminal law relations and protection of the infringed rights. The scientific novelty consists in two aspects: 1) consideration of the so-called “witchcraft component” in analyzing the norms of customary law; 2) use of the General System Theory of L. von Bertalanffy as methodology (synergetic approach). This approach is not usually used for cross-disciplinary historical and legal research; however, allows us understanding the mechanism of transformation of legal norms of the indigenous peoples of the North in the conditions of influence of Russian legislation. The point of bifurcation is the turning periods, when the content of legal views is being changed irrevocably, and the new version is accepted as traditional and consolidated in the customary law. In conclusion, the authors note that in the XIX – early XX centuries, the criminal law representations and mechanism of protection of rights in the traditional culture of the indigenous peoples of the North implied communication with  the spirits and hope for their justice in punishing the criminals. Certain norms of the Russian legislation that are similar to representations of the indigenous peoples of the North, infiltrated into the traditional culture, adapting to the customs; but overall, the criminal legislation of the Russian Empire collided with the views of the aborigines, which entailed the creation of the codes of customary law that were implemented in the judicial practice.

Before United Nations Convention on Biodiversity (CBD) 1993, documentation of traditional forest related knowledge on medicinal plants did not consider much the issue of sustainable development and sharing of benefits with knowledge holders. While some academicians obtained their higher degrees from research on local knowledge, the indigenous and local communities providing the knowledge gained little. With the signing of CBD, countries have taken efforts to document the traditional knowledge to achieve CBD’s triple objective on conserving biological diversity, using natural resources sustainably and fairly and equitably sharing benefits deriving from the use of genetic resources. As a party to CBD, Malaysian government implemented a traditional knowledge (TK) documentation project on medicinal and aromatic plants of the aborigines (Orang Asli) in Peninsular Malaysia since 2007. In line with CBD and Malaysia’s National Policy on Biological Diversity (1998), the process of TK documentation among 15 Orang Asli sub-ethnic groups involved a comprehensive approach. A wide range of activities were carried out, namely conducting rapid rural appraisal, holding workshop on awareness raising, obtaining prior informed consent, carrying out socio-economic household survey, capacity building on documentation among the Orang Asli communities, database development, lab analysis of selected potential medicinal plants, developing prototype products and development of benefit sharing mechanism. Malaysia’s comprehensive model of TK documentation has attracted national and world attention. In 2013-2014, FRIM receives funding to conduct TK related R&D and training projects from (a) the Ministry of Agriculture (RM5.56 million), (b) international Islamic Development Bank (US$30,000), (c) United Nations Development Program and Global Environment Fund (US$533,000), and (d) Asia Pacific Association of Forestry Research Institutions (APAFRI) (US$1,500).

I Wayan Arka, Malcolm Ross (eds); The many faces of Austronesian voice systems; Some new empirical studies (René van den Berg) H.W. Dick; Surabaya, city of work; A socioeconomic history, 1900-2000 (Peter Boomgaard) Josiane Cauquelin; The aborigines of Taiwan: the Puyuma; From headhunting to the modern world. (Wen-Teh Chen) Mark Turner, Owen Podger (with Maria Sumardjono and Wayan K. Tirthayasa); Decentralisation in Indonesia; Redesigning the state (Dorian Fougères) Jérôme Samuel; Modernisation lexicale et politique terminologique; Le cas de l’Indonésien (Arndt Graf) Nicholas J. White; British business in post-colonial Malaysia, 1957-70: neo-colonialism or disengagement? (Karl Hack) Chin Peng; Alias Chin Peng; My side of history; As told to Ian Ward and Norma Miraflor (Russell Jones) C.C. Chin, Karl Hack (eds); Dialogues with Chin Peng; New light on the Malayan Emergency (Russell Jones) Saw Swee-Hock; Population policies and programmes in Singapore (Santo Koesoebjono) Domenyk Eades; A grammar of Gayo; A language of Aceh, Sumatra (Yuri A. Lander) Derek Johnson, Mark Valencia (eds); Piracy in Southeast Asia; Status, issues, and responses (Carolyn Liss) Niclas Burenhult; A grammar of Jahai (James A. Matisoff) Ann R. Kinney, Marijke J. Klokke, Lydia Kieven (photographs by Rio Helmi); Worshiping Siva and Buddha; The temple art of East Java (Dick van der Meij) Ruben Stoel; Focus in Manado Malay; Grammar, particles, and intonation (Don van Minde) Pamela J. Stewart, Andrew Strathern (eds); Expressive genres and historical change; Indonesia, Papua New Guinea and Taiwan. (Dianne van Oosterhout) Johszua Robert Mansoben; Sistem politik tradisional di Irian Jaya, Indonesia; Studi perbandingan (Anton Ploeg) Timothy B. Barnard (ed.); Contesting Malayness; Malay identities across boundaries (Nathan Porath) Joel Bradshaw, Francisc Czobor (eds); Otto Dempwolff’s grammar of the Jabêm language in New Guinea (Ger Reesink) Jon Fraenkel; The manipulation of custom; From uprising to intervention in the Solomon Islands (Jaap Timmer) Clive Moore; Happy isles in crisis; The historical causes for a failing state in Solomon Islands, 1998-2004 (Jaap Timmer) Peter Burns; The Leiden legacy; Concepts of law in Indonesia (Bryan S. Turner) Terry Crowley; Bislama reference grammar (Kees Versteegh) REVIEW ESSAY Matthew Isaac Cohen; Transnational and postcolonial gamelan Lisa Gold; Music in Bali Margaret J. Kartomi; The Gamelan Digul and the prison camp musician who built it; An Australian link with the Indonesian revolution Marc Perlman; Unplayed melodies; Javanese gamelan and the genesis of music theory Ted Solís (ed.); Performing ethnomusicology; Teaching and representation in world music ensembles Henry Spiller; Gamelan; The traditional sounds of Indonesia Andrew N. Weintraub; Power plays; Wayang golek theater of West Java REVIEW ESSAY Victor T. King; People and nature in Borneo Tim Bending; Penan histories; Contentious narratives in upriver Sarawak Rajindra K. Puri; Deadly dances in the Bornean rainforest; Hunting knowledge of the Penan Benalui, 2005 Reed L. Wadley (ed.); Histories of the Borneo environment; Economic, political and social dimensions of change and continuity In: Bijdragen tot de Taal-, Land- en Volkenkunde no. 162 (2006), no: 4, Leiden

The Routledge Handbook of language and culture represents a comprehensive study on the inextricable relationship between language and culture. It is structured into seven parts and 33 chapters. Part 1, Overview and historical background, by Farzad Sharifian, starts with an outline of the book and a synopsis of research on language and culture. The second chapter, John Leavitt’s Linguistic relativity: precursors and transformations discusses further the historical development of the concept of linguistic relativity, identifying different schools’ of thought views on the relation between language and culture. He also tries to demystify some misrepresentations held towards Boas, Sapir, and Whorf’ theories (pp. 24-26). Chapter 3, Ethnosyntax, by Anna Gladkova provides an overview of research on ethnosyntax, starting from the theoretical basis laid by Sapir and Whorf and investigates the differences between a narrow sense of ethnosyntax, which focuses on cultural meanings of various grammatical structures and a broader sense, which emphasises the pragmatic and cultural norms’ impact on the choice of grammatical structures. John Leavitt presents in the fourth chapter, titled Ethnosemantics, a historical account of research on meaning across cultures, introducing three traditions, i.e. ‘classical’ ethnosemantics (also referred to as ethnoscience or cognitive anthropology), Boasian cultural semantics (linguistically inspired anthropology) and Neohumboldtian comparative semantics (word-field theory, or content-oriented Linguistics). In Chapter 5, Goddard underlines the fact that ethnopragmatics investigates emic (or culture-internal) approaches to the use of different speech practices across various world languages, which accounts for the fact that there exists a connection between the cultural values or norms and the speech practices peculiar to a speech community. One of the key objectives of ethnopragmatics is to investigate ‘cultural key words’, i.e. words that encapsulate culturally construed concepts. The concept of ‘linguaculture’ (or languaculture) is tackled in Risager’s Chapter 6, Linguaculture: the language–culture nexus in transnational perspective. The author makes reference to American scholars that first introduced this notion, Paul Friedrich, who looks at language and culture as a single domain in which verbal aspects of culture are mingled with semantic meanings, and Michael Agar, for whom culture resides in language while language is loaded with culture. Risager himself brought forth a new global and transnational perspective on the concept of linguaculture, i.e. the use of language (linguistic practice) is seen as flows in people’s social networks and speech communities. These flows enhance as people migrate or learn new languages, in permanent dynamics. Lidia Tanaka’s Chapter 7, Language, gender, and culture deals with research on language, gender, and culture. According to her, the language-gender relationship has been studied by researchers from various fields, including psychology, linguistics, and anthropology, who mainly consider gender as a construct that preserves inequalities in society, with the help of language, too. Tanaka lists diachronically different approaches to language and gender, focusing on three specific ones: gender stereotyped linguistic resources, semantically, pragmatically or lexically designated language features (including register) and gender-based spoken discourse strategies (talking-time imbalances or interruptions). In Chapter 8, Language, culture, and context, Istvan Kecskes delves into the relationship between language, culture, and context from a socio-cognitive perspective. The author considers culture to be a set of shared knowledge structures that encapsulate the values, norms, and customs that the members of a society have in common. According to him, both language and context are rooted in culture and carriers of it, though reflecting culture in a different way. Language encodes past experience with different contexts, whereas context reflects present experience. The author also provides relevant examples of formulaic language that demonstrate the functioning of both types of context, within the larger interplay between language, culture, and context. Sara Miller’s Chapter 9, Language, culture, and politeness reviews traditional approaches to politeness research, with particular attention given to ‘discursive approach’ to politeness. Much along the lines of the previous chapter, Miller stresses the role of context in judgements of (im)polite language, maintaining that individuals represent active agents who challenge and negotiate cultural as well as linguistic norms in actual communicative contexts. Chapter 10, Language, culture, and interaction, by Peter Eglin focuses on language, culture and interaction from the perspective of the correspondence theory of meaning. According to him, abstracting language and culture from their current uses, as if they were not interdependent would not lead to an understanding of words’ true meaning. David Kronenfeld introduces in Chapter 11, Culture and kinship language, a review of research on culture and kinship language, starting with linguistic anthropology. He explains two formal analytic definitional systems of kinship terms: the semantic (distinctions between kin categories, i.e. father vs mother) and pragmatic (interrelations between referents of kin terms, i.e. ‘nephew’ = ‘child of a sibling’). Chapter 12, Cultural semiotics, by Peeter Torop deals with the field of ‘semiotics of culture’, which may refer either to methodological instrument, to a whole array of methods or to a sub-discipline of general semiotics. In this last respect, it investigates cultures as a form of human symbolic activity, as well as a system of cultural languages (i.e. sign systems). Language, as “the preserver of the culture’s collective experience and the reflector of its creativity” represents an essential component of cultural semiotics, being a major sign system. Nigel Armstrong, in Chapter 13, Culture and translation, tackles the interrelation between language, culture, and translation, with an emphasis on the complexities entailed by translation of culturally laden aspects. In his opinion, culture has a double-sided dimension: the anthropological sense (referring to practices and traditions which characterise a community) and a narrower sense, related to artistic endeavours. However, both sides of culture permeate language at all levels. Chapter 14, Language, culture, and identity, by Sandra Schecter tackles several approaches to research on language, culture, and identity: social anthropological (the limits at play in the social construction of differences between various groups of people), sociocultural (the interplay between an individual’s various identities, which can be both externally and internally construed, in sociocultural contexts), participatory-relational (the manner in which individuals create their social–linguistic identities). Patrick McConvell, in Chapter 15, Language and culture history: the contribution of linguistic prehistory reviews research in this field where historical linguistic evidence is exploited in the reconstruction and understanding of prehistoric cultures. He makes an account of research in linguistic prehistory, with a focus on proto- and early Indo-European cultures, on several North American language families, on Africa, Australian, and Austronesian Aboriginal languages. McConvell also underlines the importance of interdisciplinary research in this area, which greatly benefits from studies in other disciplines, such as archaeology, palaeobiology, or biological genetics. Part four starts with Ning Yu’s Chapter 16, Embodiment, culture, and language, which gives an account of theory and research on the interplay between language, culture, and body, as seen from the standpoint of Cultural Linguistics. Yu presents a survey of embodiment (in embodied cognition research) from a multidisciplinary perspective, starting with the rather universalistic Conceptual Metaphor Theory. On the other hand, Cultural Linguistics has concentrated on the role played by culture in shaping embodied language, as various cultures conceptualise body and bodily experience in different ways. Chapter 17, Culture and language processing, by Crystal Robinson and Jeanette Altarriba deals with research in the field of how culture influence language processing, in particular in the case of bilingualism and emotion, alongside language and memory. Clearly, the linguistic and cultural character of each individual’s background has to be considered as a variable in research on cognition and cognitive processing. Frank Polzenhagen and Xiaoyan Xia, in Chapter 18, Language, culture, and prototypicality bring forth a survey of prototypicality across different disciplines, including cognitive linguistics and cognitive psychology. According to them, linguistic prototypes play a critical part in social (re-)cognition, as they are socially diagnostic and function as linguistic identity markers. Moreover, individuals may develop ‘culturally blended concepts’ as a result of exposure to several systems of conceptual categorisation, especially in the case of L2 learning (language-contact or culture-contact situations). In Chapter 19, Colour language, thought, and culture, Don Dedrick investigates the issue of the colour words in different languages and how these influence cognition, a question that has been addressed by researchers from various disciplines, such as anthropology, linguistics, cognitive psychology, or neuroscience. He cannot but observe the constant debate in this respect, and he argues that it is indeed difficult to reach consensus, as colour language occasionally reveals effects of language on thought and, at other times, it is impervious to such effects. Chapter 20, Language, culture, and spatial cognition, by Penelope Brown concentrates on conceptualisations of space, providing a framework for thinking about and referring to objects and events, along with more abstract notions such as time, number, or kinship. She lists three frames of reference used by languages in order to refer to spatial relations, i.e. a) an ‘absolute’ coordinate system, like north, south, east, west; b) a ‘relative’ coordinate system envisaged from the body’s standpoint; and c) an intrinsic, object-centred coordinate system. Chris Sinha and Enrique Bernárdez focus on, in Chapter 21, Space, time, and space–time: metaphors, maps, and fusions, research on linguistic and cultural concepts of time and space, starting with the seminal Conceptual Metaphor Theory (CMT), which they denounce for failing to situate space–time mapping within the broader patterns of culture and world perspective. Sinha and Bernárdez further argue that although it is possible in all cultures for individuals to experience and discuss about events in terms of their duration and succession, the specific words and concepts they use to refer to temporal landmarks temporal and duration are most of the time language and culture specific. Chapter 22, Culture and language development, by Laura Sterponi and Paul Lai provides an account of research on the interplay between culture and language acquisition. They refer to two widely accepted perspectives in this respect: a developmental mechanism inherent in human beings and a set of particular social contexts in which children are ‘initiated’ into the cultural meaning systems. Both perspectives define culture as “both related to the psychological make-up of the individual and to the socio-historical contexts in which s/he is born and develops”. Anna Wierzbicka presents, in Chapter 23, Language and cultural scripts discusses representations of cultural norms which are encoded in language. She contends that the system of meaning interpretation developed by herself and her colleagues, i.e. Natural Semantic Metalanguage (NSM), may easily be used to capture and convey cultural scripts. Through NSM cross-cultural experiences can be captured in a thorough manner by using a reduced number of conceptual primes which seem to exist in all languages. Chapter 24, Culture and emotional language, by Jean-Marc Dewaele brings forth the issue of the relationship between language, culture, and emotion, which has been researched by cultural and cognitive psychologists and applied linguists alike, although with some differences in focus. He considers that within this context, it is important to see differences between emotion contexts in bilinguals, since these may lead to different perceptions of the self. He infers that generally, culture revolves around the experience and communication of emotions, conveyed through linguistic expression. The fifth part starts with Chapter 25, Language and culture in sociolinguistics, by Meredith Marra, who underlines that culture is a central concept in Interactional Sociolinguistics, where language is considered as social interaction. In linguistic interaction, culture, and especially cultural differences are deemed as a cause of potential miscommunication. Mara also remarks that the paradigm change in sociolinguistics, from Interactional Sociolinguistics to social constructionism reshaped ‘culture’ into a more dynamic as well as less rigid concept. Claudia Strauss’ Chapter 26, Language and culture in cognitive anthropology deals with the relationship between human society and human thought/thinking. The author contends that cognitive anthropologists may be subdivided into two groups, i.e. ones that are concerned with the process of thinking (cognition-in-practice scholars), and the others focusing on the product of thinking or thoughts (concerned with shared cultural understandings). She goes on to explore how different approaches to cognitive anthropology have counted on units of language, i.e. lexical items and their meanings, along with larger chunks of discourse, as information, which may represent learned cultural schemata. Part VI starts with Chapter 27, Language and culture in second language learning, by Claire Kramsch, in which she makes a survey of the definition of ‘culture’ in foreign language learning and its evolution from a component of literature and the arts to a more comprehensive purport, that of culturally appropriate use of language, along with an appropriate use of sociopragmatic and pragmalinguistic norms. According to her, in the postmodern era, communication is not only mere transmission of information, it represents construal and positioning of the self and of self-identity. Chapter 28, Writing across cultures: ‘culture’ in second language writing studies, by Dwight Atkinson focuses on the usefulness of culture in second-language writing (SLW). He reviews several approaches to the issue: contrastive rhetoric (dealing with the impact of first-language patterns of text organisation on writers in a second language), or even alternate notions, like‘ cosmopolitanism’, ‘critical multiculturalism’, and hybridity, as of late native culture is becoming irrelevant or at best far less significant. Ian Malcolm tackles, in Chapter 29, Language and culture in second dialect learning, the issue of ‘standard’ Englishes (e.g., Standard American English, Standard Australian English) versus minority ‘non-standard’ speakers of English. He deplores the fact that in US specialist literature, speaking the ‘non-standard’ variety of English was associated with cognitive, cultural, and linguistic insufficiency. He further refers to other specialists who have demonstrated that ‘non-standard’ varieties can be just as systematic and highly structured as the standard variety. Chapter 30, Language and culture in intercultural communication, by Hans-Georg Wolf gives an account of research in intercultural education, focusing on several paradigms, i.e. the dominant one, investigating successful functioning in intercultural encounters, the minor one, exploring intercultural understanding and the ‘deconstructionist, and or postmodernist’. He further examines different interpretations of the concepts associated with intercultural communication, including the functionalist school, the intercultural understanding approach and a third one, the most removed from culture, focusing on socio-political inequalities, fluidity, situationality, and negotiability. Andy Kirkpatrick’s Chapter 31, World Englishes and local cultures gives a synopsis of research paradigm from applied linguistics which investigates the development of Englishes around the world, through processes like indigenisation or nativisation of the language. Kirkpatrick discusses the ways in which new Englishes accommodate the culture of the very speech community which develops them, e.g. adopting lexical items to express to express culture-specific concepts. Speakers of new varieties could use pragmatic norms rooted in cultural values and norms of the specific new speech community which have not previously been associated with English. Moreover, they can use these new Englishes to write local literatures, often exploiting culturally preferred rhetorical norms. Part seven starts with Chapter 32, Cultural Linguistics, by Farzad Sharifian gives an account of the recent multidisciplinary research field of Cultural Linguistics, which explores the relationship between language and cultural cognition, particularly in the case of cultural conceptualisations. Sharifian also brings forth illustrations of how cultural conceptualisations may be linguistically encoded. The last chapter, A future agenda for research on language and culture, by Roslyn Frank provides an appraisal of Cultural Linguistics as a prospective path for research in the field of language and culture. She states that ‘Cultural Linguistics could potentially create a paradigm that “successfully melds together complementary approaches, e.g., viewing language as ‘a complex adaptive system’ and bringing to bear upon it concepts drawn from cognitive science such as ‘distributed cognition’ and ‘multi-agent dynamic systems theory’.” She further asserts that Cultural Linguistics has the potential to function as “a bridge that brings together researchers from a variety of fields, allowing them to focus on problems of mutual concern from a new perspective” and most likely unveil new issues (as well as solutions) which have not been evident so far. In conclusion, the Handbook will most certainly serve as clear and coherent guidelines for scholarly thinking and further research on language and culture, and also open up new investigative vistas in each of the areas tackled.

The Northern Territory’s Burial and Cremation Bill 2019 has been criticised as a gross form of disrespect to traditional Aboriginal law, with Indigenous people arguing that the Bill criminalises the operation of Aboriginal law on Aboriginal land, and may lead to an increase in already high incarceration rates. Should the law in this area seek to strike a ‘balance’ between Aboriginal law and the policy goals of non-Aboriginal law, including policing and record-keeping; or should Indigenous people be left free to carry out traditional law in an area of great cultural and historical sensitivity?

Canada’s economic future is dependent upon energy and natural resource development, and has therefore become inextricably linked to the rights and interests of Canada’s Aboriginal peoples. These rights and interests include the desire to continue with their traditional ways of livelihood, to protect their many cultures and the environment, the need to foster healthy and thriving communities, and the opportunity to participate in and benefit from development on their traditional lands. In Canada, the rights of Aboriginal people are constitutionally protected. However, despite considerable advancements in domestic law on consultation and accommodation, growing unrest and dissatisfaction among Canada’s Aboriginal peoples prevails.Significant progress in international human rights law and international norms lend support to Indigenous aspirations and are creating pressure on energy and natural resource developers to embrace change and move beyond the consultation requirements under domestic law to obtaining the consent of Aboriginal communities to development on their traditional lands. This article posits that the willingness of Aboriginal communities to constructively engage with industry and consent to natural resource and energy development on their traditional lands can be facilitated by aligning the interests of the affected Aboriginal communities with those of project proponents through the proactive creation of thoughtful and innovative commercial relationships. These relationships can be structured to create value for the proponent while providing meaningful economic participation for the affected Aboriginal community by utilizing a combination of passive resource revenues, employment and procurement opportunities and direct equity participation in the development.

Family violence within Aboriginal communities continues to attract considerable scholarly, governmental and public attention in Australia. While rates of victimization are significantly higher than non-Aboriginal rates, Aboriginal women remain suspicious of the ‘carceral feminism’ remedy, arguing that family violence is a legacy of colonialism, systemic racism, and the intergenerational impacts of trauma, requiring its own distinctive suite of responses, ‘uncoupled’ from the dominant feminist narrative of gender inequality, coercive control and patriarchy. We conclude that achieving meaningful reductions in family violence hinges on a decolonising process that shifts power from settler to Aboriginal structures. Aboriginal peoples are increasingly advocating for strengths-based and community-led solutions that are culturally safe, involve Aboriginal justice models, and recognises the salience of Aboriginal Law and Culture. This paper is based on qualitative research in six locations in northern Australia where traditional patterns of Aboriginal Law and Culture are robust. Employing a decolonising methodology, we explore the views of Elders in these communities regarding the existing role of Law and Culture, their criticisms of settler law, and their ambitions for a greater degree of partnership between mainstream and Aboriginal law. The paper advances a number of ideas, based on these discussions, that might facilitate a paradigm shift in theory and practice regarding intervention in family violence.