GUIDEPOSTS
What I hadn’t expected was how easy it would be for a journalist they’d never met to arrange a visit.
When I cold-called James Hofer, the hog manager of Starlite Colony, a Hutterite community near Starbuck just 40 minutes from the bustle of downtown Winnipeg, I wasn’t sure how he’d respond. Would a group that’s widely viewed as cloistered and clannish agree to let a nosy journalist come snooping around and asking questions?
Read Also
Encouraging people from outside agriculture to come on in
In part three of our Making the Future series, Country Guide spoke with Emily McGovern from South Surrey, B.C. (Read…
“Sure, I have no problem with that,” was James’ response. “But I’m pretty busy Wednesday. How’s Thursday morning around 9?”
When I do arrive for our interview a couple days later, the sights are both unique and familiar.
Unique is the neat semi-circle of duplex homes designed to provide comfortable but modest housing for about 25 families. Also unique is the old-fashioned clothing on the young boy rushing across the farmyard, clearly late because I can also see his classmates already filing into their school.
Familiar, though, is the talk of the brutally cold weather that has blown in, and familiar too is the simple hospitality. Upon arriving in their home, Hofer’s wife Dorothy has a question that must be answered right off, before any interview can start.
“Have you had your breakfast yet?” Dorothy asks.
When I assure her I have, she insists that at the very least I must have a cup of tea and a cookie or two while Hofer has his breakfast. I settle into the kitchen with its plain panel walls and linoleum floors as he fixes himself a bowl of cold cereal.
He and the older boys — he and Dorothy have five boys and two girls ranging between six and 20 years old — were up at the crack of dawn to load hogs for their slot at a local processing plant, and several hours later, this was James’ first chance for a break. We get acquainted for a few minutes, then settle into the interview proper.
Soon in our meeting it becomes clear that I haven’t been their only visitor. Hofer talks about an interpretative centre that’s part of the colony’s hog operations so visitors can come to see how the pigs are raised. Their latest visitors were 50 business leaders from the Young Presidents Organization, or YPO as it’s more commonly known.
I express a bit of surprise at his openness and get a quick smile, followed by a firm rejoinder that politely sets me straight.
“Anyone who wants to see it can give us a call and come and see.” Yes, on the surface, James is talking about the barn — but I get the distinct impression that a little deeper, he’s talking about his community too. “I’m not ashamed of anything I do, and I do it all for a reason,” Hofer explains.
If the Hutterites were a bit more withdrawn and guarded, you could hardly blame them. In the end it’s their peaceful nature that’s always led to unpeaceful times for them.
They’re an Anabaptist group, as are the Mennonites and Amish. At a time when the central authority of the Catholic
What Does The Community Ask In Return? Hofer Pauses To Reflect: “Your All.”
church was being challenged by the regional authority of newly founded state religions, the Anabaptists were in an unenviable and unpopular position.
They were the earliest advocates of a then-heretical belief that there should be absolute separation of church and state, says Canadian Mennonite University history professor John Friesen.
“They were persecuted terribly for this belief, by both sides,” says Friesen, who has taught hundreds of Hutterites over the past 10 years. “Thousands of them were killed.”
While there are substantial differences between these religious orders, they share a common thread of personal worship in small communities and a devout pacifism that’s frequently found them on the wrong side of nationalism and xenophobia, leading to persecution and ultimately expulsion time and again.
For the Hutterites, history began in the 16th century in the Austrian province of Tyrol, followed by moves to the Czech region of Moravia, the Romanian region of Transylvania and then Ukraine during the time of the Russian Empire, where they prospered until the imposition of compulsory military service. Forbidden by their beliefs from wearing a formal uniform and from taking part in military activities, or even taking orders, it was only a matter of time until the group was on the move again.
This time, during the 1870s, it would be their furthest move ever, all the way to the northern Great Plains and the states of Montana and North Dakota. Again they flourished. But again, the military question raised its head and the persecution began anew when the U. S. entered the First World War.
Historian Gerald Friesen of the University of Manitoba described this in The Canadian Prairies as “overheated patriotism” and says it quickly led to talks with the Canadian government about moving north of the 49th Parallel. The Canadians were interested in finding farmers for their vast territories in the Prairie provinces, he says, and the Hutterites were hoping to find a more tolerant climate for their unique experiment in communitarian faith.
“The vast majority moved to Canada, mainly to Manitoba and Alberta, between 1918 and 1922,” Gerald Friesen says. But high hopes aside, the experience hasn’t been an unalloyed success. During the Second World War there was, once again, heightened rhetoric against the Hutterites and their Germanic language and pacifism, though little outright persecution.
In the intervening decades the Hutterites have become a common sight at farm events on the Prairies, with groups of men and women in their sober, old-fashioned clothing, pulling up in their large window vans.
But they remain conspicuously different and CMU’s John Friesen says this can sometimes result in unfair assumptions about the group, especially if someone has a negative encounter with someone who happens to also be a Hutterite.
Friesen says that with more than 50,000 members, Hutterites have the same diversity as any group of people, yet their clothing, lifestyle and language still clearly identify them as different, even more than the Mennonites, many of whom have participated more broadly in the larger society.
The almost inevitable result is unfounded prejudice, Friesen says. “People jump from the particular to the universal very quickly.”
As a result, Hutterite communities are frequently the target of misinformation. I raise one common perception with Hofer. It’s that Hutterites, due to the religious nature of their communities, are taxed differently.
Not so, he says. “I can assure you that the taxman knows all about us, and we’re definitely on his radar,” Hofer says with a smile and a laugh. “Hutterites pay exactly the same taxes as any other Canadian — and always have.”
Another perception is that Hutterites compete with non-Hutterites. At times this has translated into legislated limits on the amount of land Hutterites could own. It’s an issue that clearly bothers Hofer, and he jumps at the opportunity to address it.
“We’re not competing with anyone,” he says firmly. Instead he encourages people to think about it another way.
Because Hutterites tend to farm intensively and to feed livestock, and because many colonies operate light manufacturing concerns, Hofer says they actually keep far more people on a farm with a smaller land base than would otherwise be possible.
Starlite Colony, for example, has about 6,000 acres and a 600-sow hog operation, numbers that many non-Hutterite farms in the area could easily approach. But Starlite also supports more than two dozen families.
“I probably wouldn’t have a quarter-section myself,” is the way Hofer puts it.
The only way this unique society can function, Hofer says, is by holding its property communally and living simply. While he and his family aren’t in poverty, looking around his home it’s also clear they’re not wealthy — which suits the average Hutterite just fine, he says.
That’s because the most important thing to a Hutterite is his community, says Hofer. The community is where the Hutterite finds his friends, family, and economic and spiritual sustenance. It is their place apart and it is the source of their security.
“The community will take care of you, from the cradle to the grave,” Hofer says.
What Does The Community Ask In Return? Hofer Pauses To Reflect: “Your All.”
church was being challenged by the regional authority of newly founded state religions, the Anabaptists were in an unenviable and unpopular position.
They were the earliest advocates of a then-heretical belief that there should be absolute separation of church and state, says Canadian Mennonite University history professor John Friesen.
“They were persecuted terribly for this belief, by both sides,” says Friesen, who has taught hundreds of Hutterites over the past 10 years. “Thousands of them were killed.”
While there are substantial differences between these religious orders, they share a common thread of personal worship in small communities and a devout pacifism that’s frequently found them on the wrong side of nationalism and xenophobia, leading to persecution and ultimately expulsion time and again.
For the Hutterites, history began in the 16th century in the Austrian province of Tyrol, followed by moves to the Czech region of Moravia, the Romanian region of Transylvania and then Ukraine during the time of the Russian Empire, where they prospered until the imposition of compulsory military service. Forbidden by their beliefs from wearing a formal uniform and from taking part in military activities, or even taking orders, it was only a matter of time until the group was on the move again.
This time, during the 1870s, it would be their furthest move ever, all the way to the northern Great Plains and the states of Montana and North Dakota. Again they flourished. But again, the military question raised its head and the persecution began anew when the U. S. entered the First World War.
Historian Gerald Friesen of the University of Manitoba described this in The Canadian Prairies as “overheated patriotism” and says it quickly led to talks with the Canadian government about moving north of the 49th Parallel. The Canadians were interested in finding farmers for their vast territories in the Prairie provinces, he says, and the Hutterites were hoping to find a more tolerant climate for their unique experiment in communitarian faith.
“The vast majority moved to Canada, mainly to Manitoba and Alberta, between 1918 and 1922,” Gerald Friesen says. But high hopes aside, the experience hasn’t been an unalloyed success. During the Second World War there was, once again, heightened rhetoric against the Hutterites and their Germanic language and pacifism, though little outright persecution.
In the intervening decades the Hutterites have become a common sight at farm events on the Prairies, with groups of men and women in their sober, old-fashioned clothing, pulling up in their large window vans.
But they remain conspicuously different and CMU’s John Friesen says this can sometimes result in unfair assumptions about the group, especially if someone has a negative encounter with someone who happens to also be a Hutterite.
Friesen says that with more than 50,000 members, Hutterites have the same diversity as any group of people, yet their clothing, lifestyle and language still clearly identify them as different, even more than the Mennonites, many of whom have participated more broadly in the larger society.
The almost inevitable result is unfounded prejudice, Friesen says. “People jump from the particular to the universal very quickly.”
As a result, Hutterite communities are frequently the target of misinformation. I raise one common perception with Hofer. It’s that Hutterites, due to the religious nature of their communities, are taxed differently.
Not so, he says. “I can assure you that the taxman knows all about us, and we’re definitely on his radar,” Hofer says with a smile and a laugh. “Hutterites pay exactly the same taxes as any other Canadian — and always have.”
Another perception is that Hutterites compete with non-Hutterites. At times this has translated into legislated limits on the amount of land Hutterites could own. It’s an issue that clearly bothers Hofer, and he jumps at the opportunity to address it.
“We’re not competing with anyone,” he says firmly. Instead he encourages people to think about it another way.
Because Hutterites tend to farm intensively and to feed livestock, and because many colonies operate light manufacturing concerns, Hofer says they actually keep far more people on a farm with a smaller land base than would otherwise be possible.
Starlite Colony, for example, has about 6,000 acres and a 600-sow hog operation, numbers that many non-Hutterite farms in the area could easily approach. But Starlite also supports more than two dozen families.
“I probably wouldn’t have a quarter-section myself,” is the way Hofer puts it.
The only way this unique society can function, Hofer says, is by holding its property communally and living simply. While he and his family aren’t in poverty, looking around his home it’s also clear they’re not wealthy — which suits the average Hutterite just fine, he says.
That’s because the most important thing to a Hutterite is his community, says Hofer. The community is where the Hutterite finds his friends, family, and economic and spiritual sustenance. It is their place apart and it is the source of their security.
“The community will take care of you, from the cradle to the grave,” Hofer says.
But what, I counter, does the community ask in return? Hofer pauses to reflect for a moment before answering.
“Your all.”
I press a bit further, confessing that the only two things I could honestly claim to have given my all to are my wife and daughter.
“It’s the same thing,” Hofer insists. “To someone who’s not a Hutterite, that’s the best way I can describe it. It’s just like a marriage, where you have to learn about the ‘we.’ Our ‘we’ is just bigger.”
Once the unique nature of the Hutterite community becomes clear, the relationship to property makes much more sense. As in most families, the majority of property is shared. It’s the family car, for example — or as the case may be, the family hog barn or tractor or quarter section.
Personal possessions are few, such as some clothing, furniture, or a few books or toys. They are also decidedly simple. There aren’t any stereos, flat-screen televisions or DVD players here.
On the other side, however, community possessions intended for the operation of the farm are very sophisticated, even state-of-the-art.
This highlights another unique feature of Hutterite society — its relationship with technology. For some reason these folks are sometimes confused with their Amish cousins and people mistake their plain ways for mistrust of technology. Nothing could be further from the truth.
As soon as you drive into the yard and glance around, the newest in farm equipment seems to be everywhere — pickup trucks, tractors, combines, a feed mill, a sophisticated grain handling system that would be the envy of any grain operation.
They’ll adapt anything that makes their farms more profitable and efficient, but they’ll ignore anything that’s simply for pleasure, because they don’t want it to interfere with their devotion to their faith, family or community, Hofer says.
“We don’t have radios, televisions, or DVD players,” Hofer says at the same time that he’s checking the battery on his cell phone and plugging it into the charger. “We do use the Internet, but not for pleasure. We’ve got a couple of connections on the whole colony, and we use it for things like markets and e-mail to and from people we’re doing business with.”
Yet life in the Hutterite community also means saying no to workaholism, consumerism and other woes of modern society for a simpler, more community and family-centred existence.
“I’d rather be playing ball with my kids and spending time with my family,” Hofer explains.
CMU’s John Friesen says Hutterites benefit from this close relationship among their family and their colony community in many ways.
“The youth that grow up on colonies report feeling very secure and supported, they’re comfortable within their society, they’ve always got friends their own age,” he says. “It’s an excellent place for them.”
CMU’s Friesen says anyone looking at a Hutterite community must understand that, in an increasingly secular world, the glue that holds the colonies together is their shared faith and devotion.
“It’s a faith community, not an economic community,” is how Friesen describes it. “They’ve worked very hard on developing a model that lets them contribute to the larger economy, while at the same time retain their own faith. It’s very, very sophisticated.”
To James and Dorothy Hofer and their family, however, the connection is less academic and more visceral. It’s where they belong, says Hofer. “A perfect day for a Hutterite is one spent on his colony.” CG
But what, I counter, does the community ask in return? Hofer pauses to reflect for a moment before answering.
“Your all.”
I press a bit further, confessing that the only two things I could honestly claim to have given my all to are my wife and daughter.
“It’s the same thing,” Hofer insists. “To someone who’s not a Hutterite, that’s the best way I can describe it. It’s just like a marriage, where you have to learn about the ‘we.’ Our ‘we’ is just bigger.”
Once the unique nature of the Hutterite community becomes clear, the relationship to property makes much more sense. As in most families, the majority of property is shared. It’s the family car, for example — or as the case may be, the family hog barn or tractor or quarter section.
Personal possessions are few, such as some clothing, furniture, or a few books or toys. They are also decidedly simple. There aren’t any stereos, flat-screen televisions or DVD players here.
On the other side, however, community possessions intended for the operation of the farm are very sophisticated, even state-of-the-art.
This highlights another unique feature of Hutterite society — its relationship with technology. For some reason these folks are sometimes confused with their Amish cousins and people mistake their plain ways for mistrust of technology. Nothing could be further from the truth.
As soon as you drive into the yard and glance around, the newest in farm equipment seems to be everywhere — pickup trucks, tractors, combines, a feed mill, a sophisticated grain handling system that would be the envy of any grain operation.
They’ll adapt anything that makes their farms more profitable and efficient, but they’ll ignore anything that’s simply for pleasure, because they don’t want it to interfere with their devotion to their faith, family or community, Hofer says.
“We don’t have radios, televisions, or DVD players,” Hofer says at the same time that he’s checking the battery on his cell phone and plugging it into the charger. “We do use the Internet, but not for pleasure. We’ve got a couple of connections on the whole colony, and we use it for things like markets and e-mail to and from people we’re doing business with.”
Yet life in the Hutterite community also means saying no to workaholism, consumerism and other woes of modern society for a simpler, more community and family-centred existence.
“I’d rather be playing ball with my kids and spending time with my family,” Hofer explains.
CMU’s John Friesen says Hutterites benefit from this close relationship among their family and their colony community in many ways.
“The youth that grow up on colonies report feeling very secure and supported, they’re comfortable within their society, they’ve always got friends their own age,” he says. “It’s an excellent place for them.”
CMU’s Friesen says anyone looking at a Hutterite community must understand that, in an increasingly secular world, the glue that holds the colonies together is their shared faith and devotion.
“It’s a faith community, not an economic community,” is how Friesen describes it. “They’ve worked very hard on developing a model that lets them contribute to the larger economy, while at the same time retain their own faith. It’s very, very sophisticated.”
To James and Dorothy Hofer and their family, however, the connection is less academic and more visceral. It’s where they belong, says Hofer. “A perfect day for a Hutterite is one spent on his colony.” CG
