Often
called the Father of modern ethnobotany, botanist, explorer and author
Richard Schultes is the Director Emeritus of Harvard’s famed
Botanical Museum. Beginning in 1940, Dr. Schultes spent a total of
17 years in the Amazon, mostly in the remote regions of Colombia where
he investigated and collected the medicinal, edible and toxic plants
used by the Kofan, Witoto and other indigenous groups. He is the recipient
of dozens of awards for his pioneering botanical work, among them the
Cross of Boyaca—Colombia’s highest honor—and The
Gold Medal of the World Wildlife Fund, presented by Britian’s
Prince Philip. Additionally, he has authored and co-authored numerous
books—including two written with LSD synthesizer Dr. Albert Hofmann—among
them Plants of the Gods—Origins of Hallucinogenic Use (Schultes
and Hofmann; 1979, McGraw-Hill, NY) and The Healing Forest: Medicinal
and Toxic Plants of Northwest Amazonia (Schultes and Raffauf; 1990,
Dioscorides Press; Portland, OR).
Now 80 years old, Dr. Schultes, the father of three grown children, continues
to work at the Botanical Museum two days a week, is concentrating on finishing
several book projects, and is hoping to make one more trip to his beloved Colombian
Amazon.
Peter
Gorman: Let’s start with how you came to
be an ethnobotanist?
RICHARD SCHULTES: Well, I’m from an old New England family, and
when I was growing up one of my uncles had a farm up in what was then
a small town, Townsend, Massachusetts. I spent the summers up there,
helping in the haying, and I began to collect plants. I don’t know
where I learned that you pressed them, but I pressed them in big encyclopedias.
Then I began to learn what the vernacular names of the plants were and
as I got older I learned that they had Latin names—which didn’t
mean much to me until I studied Latin. So I always had an interest in
plants.
PG: What did you study in school?
RS: Well,
I did my undergraduate thesis on peyote. I went out to Oklahoma
with an anthropologist, Weston LaBarre—who was then a graduate
student at Yale and later became famous writing several books on peyote—and
attended four or five all night ceremonies and tried peyote with the
Indians. We spent time with three or four different tribes, mainly
Kiowa. Anyway, I collected some peyotes and brought them back and did
a little chemical work on it.
PG: Were you the first to do chemistry on the peyote cactus?
RS: No. But I’d had several courses in organic chemistry and I
just became interested in it. I’m ashamed of it now because it’s
very complicated and I was just a beginner at chemistry.
But in writing my thesis I became interested in a misconception that
had taken hold in relation to peyote and the sacred plant of the Aztecs,
Teonanacatl. William Safford, an ethnobotanist—I think he was with
the Smithsonian—had said in 1916 that the Aztec’s Teonanacatl
must have been peyote. Which did not fit in with my knowledge of botany
because peyote is a cactus and cacti do not grow in high wet forests,
while Teonanacatl was undoubtedly a fungus, a mushroom which doesn’t
grow in deserts. And so I went to Mexico hoping I’d be able to
see this plant, Teonanacatl, and I ended up doing my thesis on the useful
of plants of the Mazatec Indians.
PG: Did you ever find Teonanacatl?
RS: Yes. I was able to bring back one identifiable species of this mushroom
they were using, Panaeolis sphinctrinus, and in 1941 I published a
paper in the Harvard Botanical Museum Leaflets identifying that one
species as Teonanacatl. Of course, thanks primarily to the work of
Gordon Wasson and the Mexican mycologist Gaston Guzman, we have since
learned there are about twenty-four species used by the Shamans of
Oaxaca.
PG: Did
you get to do the magic mushroom with the Mazatec’s?
RS: No. I hadn’t tried it. I only had a couple of specimens.
But I fell in love with Oaxaca and thought I’d probably work all
my life there on the flora.
PG: What changed your mind about continuing to work in Mexico?
RS: Well, after I’d gotten my PhD, I had two jobs offered to me:
biology master in a private school in New England and a grant from the
National Academy of Sciences to go to the Amazon to find out what plants
the natives used in making their curare .
PG: Why was the National Academy of Sciences interested in curare?
RS: Because in late 1930s, scientists had isolated a chemical from one
of the plants used to make curare called tubocurine, which was just
becoming very important in medicine. It’s a muscle relaxant that’s
now used in any good hospital before deep surgery. Now the Indians
make many different kinds of arrow poisons so the Academy wanted to
know as much as possible about the different plants they used. So that
was the job I took. I took a plane down to Bogota in 1940 and worked
out in the field on that project.
PG: How did you first go into the jungle?
RS: I first went in with Indians who lived along the base of the Andes
mountains in Colombia, some of whom spoke Spanish. So I had an entree.
And as I went farther inland I got Spanish speaking Indian boys who
spoke the language of one or two of the tribes and that way I got in
among them.
But they certainly knew I was there before I did, because the grapevine
from one tribe to another is much more efficient than Western Union.
So even some of the people who hadn’t had any contact with outsiders
knew I was in the area and what I was doing.
I spent a lot of time with the Witotos. I did quite a bit of work with
them and also with the Kofan, both of whom make a number of arrow poisons
from different plants.
Later when I heard about the outbreak of World War ll I thought I would
be conscripted, so I made my way back to Bogota and went to the US Embassy
there. But instead of conscripting me they told me to go back into the
jungle and try to stimulate the production of rubber. This Bostonian
who’d never cut a rubber tree, but I’d been with the Indians
nine months at that time so they assumed I had learned all about that.
PG: And how did you do?
RS: Well, I gathered a lot of material from species that had been known
from the last century, and I also discovered one new species of dwarf
rubber tree. It’s an endemic species, only found on one mountain
in the Amazon, a mountain that has many unique plants on it. It’s
recently been made a protected biological area. This is the mountain
that’s been named for me.
PG: I didn’t know there was a mountain that had been named for
you. What’s it called?
RS: Mesa Schultes. Mesa means table. So it’s Shultes’ Table.
Before that I had a cockroach I collected in the Amazon named for me,
and I thought that was a great honor. Its the genus called Shultesia.
But I’ve come up from cockroaches to mountains.
PG: There
are a number of plants with your name as well, aren’t
there?
RS: Oh, yes, about two hundred and ten species. Plants are frequently
named for the collector. A number of my plants are also named for the
Indians who use them. That’s also very common among botanists,
to use geographical or tribal names.
PG: What’s
the process of collecting a plant?
RS: The first thing you do is take a cutting of the plant and press it
between sheets of newspaper in a plant press so that you can identify
it later. Fruits and flowers are very helpful here, we always try to
get them. Without this, what we call the herbarium specimen, you have
nothing.
The second thing you do, if you want to later analyze the plant’s
chemicals, is to take a wide mouthed plastic jug and put some 70 percent
ethyl alcohol into it and then cut the plant in half-inch pieces and
put the pieces into the alcohol. The alcohol—provided you use ethyl,
and not methyl or booze—will not change the chemical composition
of the substances. If they are leached out, they will be in the alcohol
which the chemist will have. Actually it’s much more easily worked
with that way than if the chemicals are in the actual plant material.
That’s the only way to collect.
PG: And how did the Indians feel about your collecting their plants?
RS: The Indians are wonderful natural collaborators, because they are
so interested and knowledgeable about their flora. Everyone was always
interested in why I wanted this plant or that plant. The fact was,
I wanted it because they used it. If they asked me why I wanted something,
I made up a disease we use it for—I’ve invented more diseases
than we ever had, so they think we’re a good deal more decrepit
than we actually are. And then they’d often say “You can’t
use that plant for that. That plant is for treating earaches,” or
something like that. That’s how I’d find out how they used
it, you see?
PG: How
many medicines have been made from the plants that you’ve
taken?
RS: Very few. There’s one that’s called yoco which has a
very high content of caffeine which is now used to reduce obesity. I
also have a couple of things in Sweden that are being looked at, and
several that the American company Shaman Pharmaceuticals are looking
into. But American companies, until recently, have looked down their
noses at plants chemistry. They have no interest in it.
I’m glad some of them are starting to take notice because when
you consider that the Amazon has 80,000 species of higher plants—and
Indonesia, Southeast Asia, or Africa have at least that many as well—well,
this is a tremendous chemical storehouse.
PG: Did you ever need an indigenous medicinal remedy?
RS: No. I really never got sick in the Amazon except for malaria and
I always had chloroquin for that. It was always the first thing I put
in my briefcase.
It’s generally very healthy there. There’s tuberculosis
and leprosy, which is very common, but that can be controlled if you
have
soap with you.
PG: There’s an African shrub called Iboga plant, which is used,
among other things, to stop people from obsessive behavior. It’s
currently being looked into by the National Institute of Drug Abuse as
an addiction interrupter. I’ve heard stories that ayahuasca is
sometimes used similarly to treat alcoholism. Have you heard that as
well?
RS: No, I haven’t, but I’m convinced that some of these so-called
drugs will have side effects that can be used in certain diseases or
conditions. For example, one of the big problems that exist among American
Indian tribes is that so many of the young people become alcoholics.
Many of these people stop drinking when they go to these peyote ceremonies,
and I’m sure its not only religious teachings in the ceremonies,
but the weekly taking of peyote that’s helping them as well.
But most of these things have not been properly looked at by medically
oriented people. Some of the chemicals in them have not been investigated
at all. And chemists take the chemicals that we get out of these compounds
and change them to make semi-synthetic compounds. The possibility of
making something that may have a special effect is enormous. That’s
what i think when I see these forests burning up or being cut down in
Brazil. It’s a crime against humanity.
One of the best Brazilian botonists has written that he calculates less
than one percent of the Amazonian flora of Brazil has been even superficially
looked at by chemists. And so imagine what we are destroying in the Amazon
alone! Thousands of species that we’ll never be able to analyze
and many of them we don’t yet even have botanical names for.
PG: What
can be done to save this knowledge of the people’s whose
native regions we’re so quickly destroying?
RS: Civilization, our culture, is advancing with every road, every airport,
every commercial company after wood. And with missionaries, tourists
and others who are coming into contact with primitive peoples and, while
not purposely maybe, certainly destroying their cultures.
This is one of the things I’ve argued for: ethnological conservation.
We’ve got to preserve the knowledge of these peoples. For example,
one of my former students and best field men, Dr. Michael Ballick, is
taking as much time as he can from his job at the Botanical Gardens in
New York to work in Belize where there are three or four old medicine
men; if they die all the knowledge of what they’re using is gone.
He has a woman there who speaks their language who works with these medicine
men and he goes down three or four times a year and she gives him the
notes. It’s a wonderful thing. All that will be saved.
PG: Once
we’ve saved their knowledge, how do we
make sure that the indigenous people from whom it comes get their fair
share?
RS: There’s a lot of discussion about that and many drug companies
have agreed to see that some help, whether its financial or some other
way, gets back to the tribe. Where I worked, money would be useless,
absolutely useless. They don’t need money. It would have been much
better for me if they had since I had to pay them in things and had to
carry all the stuff down into the jungle. But in many other places where
they can use money, money can be given to the tribe or some representative
of the tribe.
In the case of Shaman Pharmaceuticals, they have set up a special sub-branch
of environmental conservation, The Healing Forest Conservancy. And they’ve
agreed that if they make any money from any of the things they get from
the Indians, that they will give back to the group in some way or another.
Either by sending a doctor there, or sending money if they can use it,
or sending a bright young boy out and giving him a year or two in school
somewhere. There are many ways of doing this.
PG: And how do we save the environments of these peoples?
RS: This is another thing I argue for: botanical and environmental conservation.
In many places, especially in Brazil, commercial interests are bringing
in all sorts of mechanical material and cutting not only the trees
they want, but taking down every twig. The pictures that you see from
Brazil are horrendous. I’ve seen them cutting everything down
and letting it dry and then setting it afire, and then, of course,
nothing else grows. What we’ll have is a great extension larger
than the United States, of desert scrub, small plants and trees. You’ll
never get the forest taking over.
PG: Is the same true in Colombia?
RS: No. Thanks to the lack of much white penetration and thanks to the
rapids and the rivers which make navigation with boats impossible on
all but the Putumayo River, the destruction is only buy Indians with
axes. They cut enough to get their food, period. They don’t take
down a thousand acres at a time.
They work those clearings for five or eight years until the land doesn’t
give any more crops, and then they move. And in those small areas the
jungle takes back over. Which it doesn’t when you cut large areas.
PG: Isn’t
a large part of the problem the population explosion, particularly
in the Third World?
RS: I have long thought that the number one crisis facing the world
is population. For every child born it means a few inches less soil
for
food. And the way we’re destroying the forests and agricultural
land, we no longer have the luxury to procreate the way we have. You
have to make people aware, particularly in a place like Colombia, that
after two or three children they have to stop.
Now the Colombian government was doing this with medical advice, and
then the Pope comes in there, the first stop of any Pope in the New World—and
Colombia is a very Catholic country—and he berates the government
for this. He should stay over in Rome and leave governments alone. But
he said this was a terrible thing to do and most of the ordinary Columbian
people, being so strongly Catholic, believed him. Fortunately the government
didn’t. They’re still doing it.
PG: Let me ask about your vision plant experiences. Tell me about using
ayahuasca and virola snuffs with the indigenous people. You must have
had some extraoradinary experiences...
RS: I wouldn’t call them extrordinary. With virola snuff you don’t
usually have same effects that you get with ayahuasca. I have taken peyote
in ceremonies with the Indians, and ayahuasca, and with both of these
I get color reactions. But I never had visions and I don’t see
things, although I know that many people do. With peyote, for example,
or mescaline, many people see things from our culture. And the Indians,
with ayahuasca, see huge snakes and jaguars and in some cases, if they
have been indoctrinated to think they can, they see other-world spirits,
or the spirits of their anscestors. But I have never seen anything except
color. If you remember Walt Disney’s Fantasia, the first thing
is a color interpretation of Bach’s Tocata and Fugue. That’s
the closest I can tell you of my experience with peyote and with ayahuasca.
I see vague things like clouds or smoke of different colors going across
my field of vision, but I’ve never seen anything concrete. I think
this is mostly a psychological difference; that these people expect to
see those things. As a scientist, I don’t expect to see them.
PG: You’ve
had a long relationship with Dr. Albert Hofmann. How did you two meet?
RS: I met him in a conference in Berlin. I knew that he was interested
in the work of Mr. Wasson on the intoxicating mushrooms. That was when
Wasson was just beginning that work. So I said I’d been in the
Oaxaca area and knew a little about them. And that struck up a friendship.
We boycotted a lot of lectures and just sat and talked. And after that
we wrote two books together. We’re great friends.
PG: Did
you ever do Hofmann’s LSD?
RS: No. I always told him I didn’t want to because it wasn’t
a natural thing, it was a synthetic. And because of that I had no interest
in it.
PG: What about Gordon Wasson, the mycologist?
RS: Well, I went to the Amazon right after Mexico and I hadn’t
been home for two years during the war—I was getting rubber out—and
when I finally got home this banker called up from New York and said “I
know of your paper in which you identified one species of mushroom as
Teonanacatl. I’m going to go down there because this is very interesting
to me. Can you give me some names?”
Well, I didn’t know anything about Wasson, and I told him it had
been several years since I was last in Mexico but gave him the name of
a doctor, Dr. Reko, who worked in Oaxaca and who’d been interested
in these mushrooms too. So Wasson went down to Mexico and got in touch
with this doctor who set him up with names of people to see.
PG: Wasson
and yourself later became good friends, didn’t
you?
RS: We became very close friends. He even had an honorary appointment
in the Harvard Botanical Museum, because even though as far as science
goes he was an amateur—in the best sense of the word, a lover
of knowledge—he was doing research that no one else had done.
And publishing it. He published I think six or seven books in the 22
years he had an honorary appointment.
PG: Did you ever get to use the mushrooms?
RS: No. Because I never went back to Mexico. I would have had I been
with Wasson on one of his trips, as Albert Hofmann was.
PG: Is there any truth to the stories that Wasson kept them around for
his guests....
RS: I don’t think that’s true. He gave most of his specimens
to the museum here. You can see them in our lecture hall in bottles.
PG: What
about datura? Is that something you’ve
used?
RS: There are six species in the Andes of South America, and a number
of the Indians do use it, alone or with other hallucinogens. But I
would never take a solanaceous plant.
PG: Why not?
RS: The scopolomine and atropine which they contain are very very toxic
alkaloids. And not only that, the concentration of these alkaloids
in a single plant can vary from one season to the next and very often
from one day to the next. In any event it’s too dangerous to
fool with. I wouldn’t do it.
PG: What are your feelings about drug use in our society?
RS: I am concerned with the excessive use of drugs like marijuana and
cocaine, but I don’t know what you can do about it, especially
cocaine. Coca, you know, is harmless when used by the Indians, who
chew the leaves of the coca bush. But that’s quite different
than processed cocaine. I’m sorry about what Colombia is going
through now, with their drug problems. But who’s responsible?
We are. If we didn’t buy the cocaine or Europe...well now Japan
is buying it. They’re having a terrible problem there.
PG: I’m
not a fan of cocaine either. Marijuana, you and I might disagree on...
RS: I don’t necessarily disagree with you on that, except I think
it’s got to be controlled in a motorized civilization. The effects
of marijuana differ with different people and at different times with
the same person. But there are two things it always does, and in the
beginning when you don’t feel too woozy you don’t recognize
them: It distorts the sense of time and of space, both of which you absolutely
need when you’re driving.
But I do think they should decriminalize it. I have been to court many
times to testify for these young kids who were caught sharing a marijuana
cigarette with a friend and they want to put them in jail and make a
real criminal out of them. What a travesty of justice.
PG: You’ve
joked about being the guru for the psychedelic generation. Did you
and Wasson and Hofmann ever sit around and laugh
about being
the trinity of psychedelia?
RS: Well, yes. We were all in a meeting some years ago which Jonathan
Ott put on in San Francisco, and he had all sorts of experts on hallucinogenic
plants there. The peyote man, Weston LaBarre was there, and Albert Hofmann
and myself and Wasson and many other people. And we naturally thought
it was funny, all of us there in our suits and ties, not looking like
gurus at all. Well, I’m not a guru and never thought about myself
that way.
I used to lecture down there in California during the hippie days, and
I think many people were disappointed when they saw me. They thought
I would look like Allen Ginsberg or something.
PG: Despite your conservative appearance you really did usher in the
psychedelic revolution, the three of you. Shultes, Hofmann, and Wasson...
RS: I don’t think I did, but altogether I suppose you could say
we did. Actually, I think Mr. Leary did more than any one of us in ushering
in that.
PG: Do you regret your part in bringing the idea of vision drugs to
the Western world?
RS: No. I don’t. Not at all. I never have.
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