Photograph by João Castellano for The New York Times
schools in Senegal and the Philippines. The group
was founded in 1942 by a bright-eyed Califor-
nian named Paul Fleming. who as a young man
woke up one night in Los Angeles to fi nd his
mother kneeling beside his bed praying for his
salvation. It seems that the experience marked
him. He became a missionary, shipped off to
British Malaya to save souls, caught malaria
and returned to California to heal. When sub-
sequently he helped found the New Tribes
Mission, it was to bring the Gospel to all the
world’s ‘‘unreached’’ peoples as he believed was
required by the Bible to usher in Christ’s return.
This remains the main purpose of the organi-
zation today. Even after the fi rst missionaries
he sent out were murdered — stabbed to death
in 1943 and buried in an Amazonian vegetable
garden — Fleming found the hand of God all
around him.
By 1949 the New Tribes Mission had gathered
suffi cient funds to purchase its fi rst aircraft: a
21-passenger DC-3, in which it began to shuttle
missionaries to South America. The following
year, the airplane wandered off course one
night and hit a mountain in the Andes, killing
everyone aboard. Months later a replacement
aircraft fl ew into another mountain — also at
night, this time in Wyoming — again with a full
loss of life. Fleming was one of those killed in
the crash. According to the organization’s liter-
ature, upon impact the victims encountered the
bright light of Christ. Over the decades since
Fleming’s death, his followers have persisted
with this providential view of things. Publicly
they have reacted to the coronavirus pandemic
by pausing their outreach. The same was true
in Brazil, the elder Edward Luz emphasized to
me during a phone conversation. Another insid-
er told me confi dentially, however, that many
within the group, anticipating the ‘‘end times ,’’
privately rejoiced.
Into this mind-set, the younger Edward Luz
was born in 1979 in the state of Goiás. His par-
ents dedicated their marriage to evangelizing
Indigenous people. The family moved to San-
tarém, a port on the south bank of the Amazon
River well situated for reaching isolated peo-
ples. There were few restrictions on such activi-
ties at the time. In 1982, word arrived of a bare-
ly known group called the Zo’é, who lived 200
miles to the north of Santarém. They numbered
about 300 and inhabited settlements visible
from overhead in the vicinity of two small rivers
in an inaccessible forest. They were so isolated
that they barely needed a name for themselves,
Zo’é meaning ‘‘true human.’’ Previous fl eeting
encounters showed that they wanted to be left
alone. The New Tribes Mission Brazil decided
to go after them. By 1985 the senior Edward
Luz had a built a station two days’ walk from
the Zo’é settlements. It included some wooden
buildings and a dirt runway that allowed for
supply fl ights from Santarém. He called it Espe-
rança, or ‘‘Hope.’’
I heard from his son that he saw himself as
progressive. He learned Indigenous languages.
He enjoyed Indigenous foods and appreciated
Indigenous ways. He did not object to nudity
among Native peoples. He hoped to persuade
them someday to assume the burden of spread-
ing the Gospel among themselves. Yet because
he could not accept the tribe’s isolation, he pro-
voked its decline. This became obvious after
1986 when the Zo’é stopped being shy. A band
of them materialized at the mission station,
planted a manioc garden and built an encamp-
ment nearby. The following year, the younger
Edward Luz, the future anthropologist, arrived
Agents of IBAMA at the airport in Altamira.
40 3.20.22