Two Reviews

Two books of recent years lavishly praise Richard St. Barbe Baker.

Brave Hearts, Rebel Spirits - A Spiritual Activists Handbook, by Brooke Shelby Biggs, was published by Anita Roddick Books in 2003. Chapter 10 (of ten) is titled: “Man of the Trees, Richard St. Barbe Baker, Baha'i Conservationist.”  Ms. Biggs states point blank in the opening paragraph, "He was the world's first global environmentalist..."

While it reveals no new information bearing upon his legacy, Brave Hearts, Rebel Spirits does include this account (perhaps derived from one of St. Barbe’s many books):

In 1958, St. Barbe went to Washington to speak at a Senate hearing on a wilderness bill then being considered.  He heard ranchers, miners, loggers, and farmers argue for "multi-use" designations of federal lands.  St. Barbe said "multi-use" was just a euphemism for "multi-destruction."  Before he was called to testify, the slight, dignified Englishman rose quietly and left the Senate chambers without a word.  "I felt I could no longer contribute even a note of sanity in a madly industrialized world, speeding to its doom," he recalled.

Brave Hearts, Rebel Spirits has the laudable motive of inspiring the reader to work for social change. However, it has an ambitious scope – attempting to profile some thirty-four wide-ranging activist groups and individuals in less than 250 pages while incorporating lots of photographs and graphics. This makes for a cursory treatment of some of its subjects, although St. Barbe fares better than others in the book. But St. Barbe is not easy to pin down as an historical figure. The resulting treatment is permeated with the usual minor inaccuracies about his life. It generates a few new ones as well.

Overall, however, this book is visually attractive and readable and is to be applauded for identifying Richard St. Barbe Baker in his rightful place as a modern forerunner and seminal figure of the environmental movement. It also recognizes the spiritual underpinning that motivated his life’s work.

On the other hand, Origins of the Organic Movement, by Philip Conford, published by Floris Books in 2001, is a scholarly contribution to the study of agricultural history.

This serious academic work refers to St. Barbe on seventeen different pages, (although the majority of these are mentions in passing).  It offers a significant evaluation of St. Barbe's place in history and has a section focused on him in part of Chapter 3, "Shangri-La and Three Servants of Empire."  He is grouped, along with Sir Robert McCarrison and Sir Albert Howard, as one of three enlightened progenitors of modern thinking toward the natural world and indigenous people, who arose from the British colonial system:

...all, objectively speaking, the servants of imperialism through their professional and official status as representatives of colonial power.  One could argue, though, that to some extent they 'went native,' in that they believed traditional native culture could offer valuable lessons to the industrial nations...

...By the mid-1930s [they] were once more based in England, and the conclusions they drew from their colonial experiences would prove central to the critique of English society and Western civilization which the emerging organic movement was to formulate during the next fifteen years.

Conford writes: "St. Barbe Baker's life was one of astonishing vigour and expertise, linking the pre-1914 world of the Canadian prairies with the establishment of the Findhorn Community.  It demonstrates the close relationship between the organic movement and religious faith..."

Erosion in Kenya

Further:

St. Barbe Baker's account of Africa tells of a landscape ruined by human thoughtlessness.  Only a remnant of natives are concerned about their future, and short-sighted officialdom obstructs the possibility of renewal; but the tribesman are ready to be aroused from their apathy by the inspiration of a westerner's scientific and practical knowledge.  Baker's combination of scientific skill and religious reverence anticipates the contemporary work in East Africa of Wangari Maathai and the Green Belt Movement.

This book is especially noteworthy for demonstrating that the early organic movement had strong connections with some prominent right-wing, anti-Semitic, fascist sympathizers.  As St. Barbe’s work in forestry and husbandry brought him into contact and even some association with these politically polarized figures, this context makes the body of his writings appear even more courageous by contrast. 

The author refers to St. Barbe's New Earth Charter as a "major statement of environmental philosophy and policy."  He also states: "Richard St. Barbe Baker helped establish the Findhorn Community." In a summary Conford comments, 'St. Barbe Baker ended up rejecting the whole idea of "progress" based on industrialism, militarism and exploitation of natural resources.'

Origins of the Organic Movement has a number of valuable facts that help to place St. Barbe within the framework of his times. For instance, it refers to a husbandry conference at  "Springhead estate in Dorset, under an acacia tree" where he, along with Ehrenfried Pfeiffer (of Rudolf Steiner’s Biodynamic fame), was one of the speakers.

Furthermore the book’s appendices, “Appendix A: Leading Figures” and “Appendix B: Groups, Institutions and Journals,” are extremely useful in sorting out the ‘Who’s who?’ and ‘Who did what?’ in the early organic movement, as it manifested in the British Empire. Conford's astute grasp of his subject is also demonstrated by his reference (quoted earlier above) to the continuum extending from Richard St. Barbe Baker's Men of the Trees to Wangari Maathai's Green Belt Movement. He made this observation three years before Maathai was awarded the 2004 Nobel Peace Prize.

A puzzling omission in Origins of the Organic Movement is that it treats the connection between religion and organic agriculture and surveys the work of Richard St. Barbe Baker, yet makes no reference whatsoever to the Bahá’í Faith. St. Barbe began his association with the Bahá’í religion in 1924. His personal correspondence, autobiographical works, and itineraries all reveal that, from at least February 1935 onward, until his death in 1982, he closely identified himself with the Bahá’í Faith and regarded it as his guiding star.

PAUL MANTLE