They live in the north of the country and number about 12,000. Few still speak their native language. The main threat comes from the damage caused to the forests. They believe that the land should be respected and exploited according to need.
Moscow () – A new film by director Vladimir Sevrinovskij, “Winter in Letnaja Zolotitsa”, about the life of the inhabitants of a small village on the shores of the White Sea, 180 kilometers from Arkhangelsk, the city, is arousing passionate reactions in Russia. closest, which in winter can only be reached by motorized sledges or old An-2 transport planes for small groups of passengers.
In this extreme zone of the northern taiga live the Mansi, a small Finno-Ugric people, which according to statistics does not exceed 12 thousand people. Less than 200 of them live in Letnaja Zolotitsa, a name that means “Golden Summer”, and only a few dozen still speak their native language and preserve the original traditions, closely linked to life in the forests.
The Mansi are in danger of disappearing, especially in the increasingly controversial prospect of a disintegration of the Russian Federation, which in its own way tries to protect the small local ethnic groups with special laws, although these are less and less taken into account. The life of these people has always depended on hunting and fishing, but now they cut down the trees in the taiga and dig for minerals and energy sources, poison the rivers with the residues of these activities and scare away tourists, in addition to exterminate wild animals.
Government support programs for “native peoples” have not been cancelled, but the money is invested in the territory without taking into account the opinion of the inhabitants. Most Mansi refuse to publicly demand compliance with the rules for fear of losing even what is now guaranteed by officials or businessmen.
In the film, one of the few to speak out is activist Natalia Gridneva, a mother of five, living in the village of Polunochnoye (“Midnight”) in the Sverdlovsk region of the Urals, who calls for allowing the Mansi retain control of their native lands and autonomously administer the allocated funds, before they disappear in the offices of state and regional governments. Natalia is supported by the woodcutter Valery Anjamov, who lives in the even smaller village of Ushma, and possesses great moral authority among the Mansi population.
Natalia tells that “my father had a sister who lived in the Komi region, and although the Mansi gods were against it, we moved with her; deer in the area carried him home unconscious and he died a few days later, a week after the move. My mother also died early and I grew up in an orphanage, among Russians.
The orphans climbed the tall poplars to watch the thaw, dreaming of returning to their people: “I only remembered a few words of my native language, but I have never forgotten the taiga.” Boys would run away from the institute to live in the forest “the Mansi way”, hunting and fishing all day, “when there were still many animals in that area”.
Gridneva dreams of the restoration of the traditions of the Northern Urals, “when civilization had not yet come to destroy everything” and the Mansi were proud and always active men; “Today they have turned us all into drunkards.” Since deer and reindeer became public property in the 1990s, they have virtually disappeared, along with many other wildlife. Anjamov sends a letter to the Yekaterinburg administration every month, which is regularly returned to him.
The Mansi are people of the land, who according to their conception cannot be owned by anyone, individual or community, and must be respected and exploited, to meet their needs, only by those who live there permanently. The inhabitants are assigned health services, transportation and basic supplies, but the Mansi claim the “rodovye ugodja”, the prerogatives of “native lands”, so as not to lose their identity.
Photo: Flikr/Irina Kazanskaya