This isn’t a trend it’s a testament to human resilience. And the corporate psychedelic renaissance? It’s repeating colonialism’s oldest playbook: extract, patent, profit.
The Original Psychonauts: Wisdom in the Wild
Mesoamerica’s Desert Communion
Long before Western psychiatry coined “neuroplasticity,” the Huichol, Tarahumara, and Aztec peoples traversed deserts to harvest hikuri (peyote). This spineless, bitter cactus wasn’t a party drug it was a sacrament. Rituals like the Wixárika pilgrimage fused mescaline-induced visions with ecological stewardship: participants gathered peyote only after days of fasting and prayer, taking just enough for ceremony, never for surplus. “You don’t take peyote,” explains Huichol elder José Ramírez. “It takes you to meet ancestors, heal the sick, and remember we’re threads in life’s web.”
Amazonia’s Vine of Souls
In the Amazon, ayahuasca (Banisteriopsis caapi + Psychotria viridis) isn’t a “therapeutic protocol.” It’s the vine—a teacher, surgeon, and historian rolled into one bitter brew. Shipibo shamans speak of icaros, the melodies sung to guide journeys into nixi pae (“vision world”). Here’s the twist: Western science calls ayahuasca’s purge “nausea.” Traditional healers call it la purga a physical expulsion of trauma and toxins. As Peruvian activist Angela Sanchez notes: “Colonizers stole our gold. Now they steal our plants and call it ‘discovery.’ But you can’t patent a song that heals.”
Africa’s Root of Revelation
In Gabon, Bwiti initiates consume eboka (ibogaine) not to “optimize” their minds, but to shatter them. The root of the Tabernanthe iboga tree propels users into a 36-hour odyssey where—as Bwiti elder Moutsie Moussavou describes—“the dead walk with you, showing every lie you’ve lived.” It’s a brutal rebirth: vomiting, trembling, and confronting buried shame. Yet for communities navigating post-colonial trauma, iboga isn’t about individual enlightenment—it’s about stitching identity back together.
The Eleusinian Ancients
Even 2,500 years ago, Greeks flocked to Eleusis for mysteries involving kykeon, a barley brew suspected to contain ergot alkaloids (LSD’s chemical cousins). Initiates emerged “struck dumb with awe,” having stared down mortality itself. Historian Carl Ruck argues these rites sustained Greek democracy: “Knowing death’s embrace freed citizens to live without tyranny’s fear.”
Colonialism’s Double Erasure: Ban, Then Steal
Here’s the brutal irony:
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Demonize: Spanish priests called peyote “the devil’s root.” U.S. authorities jailed Native American Church members until 1978.
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Extract: Now, startups like Compass Pathways patent synthetic psilocybin while ethnobotanists “discover” plants stewarded for millennia.
In 2024, the Navajo Nation sued a psychedelic company for attempting to patent Datura wrightii, a sacred plant used in coming-of-age ceremonies. “It’s biopiracy,” says tribal lawyer James Anaya. “They dismiss our knowledge as folklore then monetize it.”
The Medical Industrial Complex: Spiritual Healing on Their Terms
Modern psychedelic therapy follows a script:
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White Coats Over Wisdom: Trials prioritize isolated molecules over shamanic rituals. MDMA therapy? 12 weeks. Traditional ayahuasca healing? Often years of dietas and mentorship.
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Gatekept Access: Australia’s legal psilocybin therapy costs $15,000. Meanwhile, in Peru, ayahuasca ceremonies run $100...if you’re a tourist. Locals pay in community labor.
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The Patent Land Grab: MindMed’s “digital trip sitter” app. Compass’s “proprietary psilocybin formulation.” Even the method of holding hands during therapy is trademarked.
“They medicalize the molecule but ignore the medicine,” says Dr. Francisco Moreno, a psychiatrist working with Yaqui communities. “Healing isn’t a transaction. It’s a covenant between people, plants, and place.”
Reclaiming the Legacy: Seeds of Resistance
Decriminalize Nature (DN)
Born in Oakland, DN’s grassroots campaigns have decriminalized entheogenic plants in 20+ U.S. cities. Their demand? “Not legalization for profit reparation.” Key to their model: Indigenous advisors steering policy.
The Indigenous Medicine Conservancy (IMC)
This Oaxaca-based collective trains locals to cultivate peyote and ololiuhqui (morning glory) sustainably. “If corporations won’t stop stealing,” says IMC’s Maricela Gómez, “we’ll outgrow them.”
The Underground Railroad
When ibogaine was banned in Gabon, Bwiti elders sent seeds to Mexico. Today, networks of underground healers distribute iboga to addiction clinics defying borders. “They burned our churches,” says healer Kalanu. “But roots run deeper than laws.”
Why This Isn’t Just About “Drugs”
The psychedelic struggle mirrors every colonial resource war: oil, diamonds, lithium. But here’s what’s different:
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Sacred Reciprocity: Traditional use demands giving back—peyote pilgrims replant buttons; ayahuasca harvesters sing to vines.
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Communal Healing: Western therapy asks, “How do you feel?” Indigenous ceremonies ask, “How does the village heal?”
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Resistance as Ritual: From Standing Rock to the Amazon, land defenders use plant medicines to fortify their fight.
The Path Forward: No Allyship Without Landback
Want to honor psychedelic traditions? Support:
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Land Returns: Back initiatives like Sogorea Te’ Land Trust.
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Patent Busting: Donate to the Indigenous Medicine Alliance’s legal fund.
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Community Clinics: Fund projects like Chacruna’s Indigenous-led psychedelic training.
As L.A. Cofán elder Felipe Jacanamijoy warns: “If you drink ayahuasca without fighting for our forests, you’re just consuming trauma.”
Final Truth
The next time a VC brags about “democratizing psychedelics,” remember:
- The real pioneers aren’t in lab coats.
- They’re in the desert planting peyote under midnight stars.
- In the Amazon singing icaros as chainsaws roar.
- In Gabon guarding iboga’s last groves.
That’s the revolution and it doesn’t need your IPO.