By Jim McDowell
Ronsdale, 500 pp., $24.95.
Dave Obee
Father August Brabant, the first Roman Catholic missionary to live and work on the west coast of Vancouver Island during the colonial period, is a prime subject for an in-depth biography such as this.
Brabant witnessed tremendous change among the aboriginal people on our coast during his 33 years there, and certainly contributed to that change as a result of his strong belief that it was needed.
As Jim McDowell explains so well, the Roman Catholic priest from Belgium firmly believed that he had to save all of the indigenous people he dealt with — save them from their traditions, their culture, their way of life.
He imposed his beliefs over theirs, apparently unconcerned that he might be doing more harm than good. His commitment to the cause, while admirable, was certainly misguided, and reflected both arrogance and ignorance.
Simply put, Brabant believed that just about everything about the native way of life was wrong. He imposed new standards, ones that were decidedly white and European.
That meant a new way of dress, of housing, of justice, and even of identity. One of his core principles was that these savages needed to be educated — and to that end, he started the first residential school on Vancouver Island.
In hindsight, of course, it is easy for us to see the errors of Brabant’s ways. We can see the damage done by people of his ilk, and we are doing our best to show our appreciation for the native cultures that our ancestors tried so hard to extinguish.
We also need to accept that some things — such as the familial disconnect wrought by residential schools — might never be made right.
McDowell’s look at Brabant is superb, combining information on the priest’s life with the appropriate context — the social history of the indigenous people he was trying to save from themselves.
His story is still greater. McDowell’s work makes it blindingly obvious that there are many different cultural viewpoints, many ways to see ourselves and the people we deal with. We need to appreciate others, as they should appreciate us.
Brabant’s greatest flaw was that he never tried to understand the Nuu-chah-nulth people or their customs. He devoted half his life to his work in their communities, but remained a disinterested, inflexible outsider.
He stayed true to his beliefs despite all the evidence just outside the door of his log cabin — evidence that the aboriginal way of life had merits of its own. His steely resolve had its place, of course, but it made it much tougher for him to convert any of those souls.
It is hard, after all, to sell someone on an idea without knowing or appreciating what that person already sees as the truth. While Brabant honestly believed that he was helping people, he was undermining everything about their culture.
McDowell also does his best to get to the truth behind a key controversy about Brabant, the dictionary of the Hesquiaht language that he worked on for many years. It turns out there was no dictionary, just a basic phrase book that was never used.
Father August Brabant is a great book, and is highly recommended as a path to greater understanding of the history of Vancouver Island.
The book’s greatest flaw is on its cover. Don’t be misled by the title: This is not merely the story of one priest, but about the clash between two dramatically different viewpoints.
The reviewer is the editor-in-chief of the Times Colonist.