Chapter 28: Indian Recovery - General

The purpose of this chapter is to support the idea of Indian recovery and survival. Their needs and wants are distinctly different from those of other minorities, who in many cases want to blend in. By and large, Indians want to retain their distinct identities, and to have exclusive control of their own homelands and tribal governments. They have a right to enforce their treaties with the United States, and to be spared from genocide. When and how to “integrate”, if at all, is a matter for these First Americans to decide as they see fit.
The American Ethic favors free enterprise and competition in economic systems. This is based on freedom rather than force, and fits with the idea of democracy. I see nothing evil in allowing cultures and ethnic groups the freedom to compete with each other, as long as they avoid force to settle disputes. We must allow this freedom for our Indian tribes, instead of forcing them (ethnocentric) to be carbon copies of ourselves.
I have pointed out a few of the highly evolved social, religious and political ideals of our Indian brothers and sisters that I found striking. You may judge for yourself whether or not these people are of worth. I submit that they are, but that’s not the point. The point is that they are part of us, and they have their own right to live in dignity, despite the negative view of bigots. Human rights are basic and all people must support the rights of others if they wish to keep their own.
As a matter of self-interest, we need to be exposed to new ways, borrowing from their (American Indian) high level of cultural and social development as our own American society breaks down, and in many areas American society has already cracked.
Beyond that, in a religious and moral sense, we simply do not have the right to destroy a people along with their culture and religion. I tell you they are good people, not heathen savages or drunken Indians. There is value in allowing diverse cultures and religions to compete freely with each other. Through this process people grow, we adopt the best from each other, and social values improve.
Throughout the world, nationalism is on the rise, or more correctly it is recovering from past assaults. It has become the fashion to treat nationalism or tribalism as bad words, meaning that they cause war and turmoil. To some extent it is true, and yet nations along with their ethnic traits such as language, religion, culture and art are the building blocks of all civilization.
The great powers too often thwarted individual nations, splitting and combining them in a way that ignored useful boundaries and systems of government. These artificial boundaries suited colonialism. Humans are stubborn creatures, their cultures are precious, and they don’t wish to surrender their human identity to whatever group has the largest army. We see the results of this elsewhere in the world, and note it often leads to warfare, but we forget that a similar process of grabbing land and suppressing religion and culture happened here.
Hindsight is better than no sight at all. Let’s take a brief look at some of the many good things about tribalism, the thing that our transplanted European society did not understand or appreciate and tried so hard to destroy.
Women were highly regarded in a matriarchal society, had a voice in government, and the crime of rape was rare or totally absent. Even though the tribes of the western plains were warrior societies, within the tribe violence and murder were extremely rare, and dealt with in a conciliatory manner. Life was cherished, and government by consensus (at the community or band level) made room for individual differences, minority choices and freedom from oppression. This was not anarchy, because things still got done at the tribal level which provided representative government. Council gatherings or lesser chiefs appointed the top tribal leaders. These societies fit a pattern of equality rather than domination by one group or gender.
Prisons were not necessary, in a sharing society there was no need to steal, and the difference between the poor and the wealthy was small. Children were cherished, and the entire tribe provided a nurturing place to raise them. Marriage and divorce were provided for, and in many tribes homosexuals and lesbians had an honorable place. The elderly were cherished and treated with respect.
All tribes were not the same, some practiced slavery and torture and had less desirable social structures. There were some built-in problems that are not yet solved. The tribes were “place oriented,” which is great for developing love of the land and environmental responsibility, but doesn’t fit with an industrial society where labor must go where the work is. In some tribes there were inherited class or cast systems, which limit the possibilities for individuals to develop based on individual merit.
In general, positive values were typical of America’s Indian tribes. It wasn’t never-never land with all things to perfection, but I urge that we allow these advanced societies to recover from past assaults and to continue to develop rather than destroying them. They will need to find workable compromises between the tribal ethic of sharing, and modern individualism and self-interest, but let’s allow that to happen, and learn from them.
In our own societies there is constant conflict between the hierarchy, with power from the top, and democracy which arises from the people. There is no place for individual rights in a hierarchy, while individuals, at least in theory, are protected by democracy. Still, we have not found complete solutions to these conflicts or a way to operate our armies and police (or team sports) in a democratic fashion.
Kissy-kissy people are forever sniffing around like dogs to determine who has the money and power, and then they do whatever is necessary, right or wrong, to please those at the top, which is not democratic. They sit on the fence, afraid to make choices on their own until some person they see as a social superior indicates the direction in which they should go. Examples of this are Colonel Oliver North and the Nazi SS troopers, who differ only in degree. There is nothing noble about cringing beneath the table of the rich, looking for scraps. Kissing-up is not a commendable human trait.
The Indians had a solution to this basic problem. They had Chiefs, but there was no dishonor if an individual decided to go his own way. Each person had a right to some reasonable share of the necessities of life, and the rich were not allowed to hoard everything at the expense of the impoverished. Indians made government by consensus a workable art. It is a worthy thing for free people to have room to follow their own drum.
Tribal warfare? Yes, they had that, but so did we, and it continues as an unsolved problem throughout the world today. It’s a human problem, not an Indian problem.
My role is not to dissect Indians to see “what makes them tick,” or to leer at “them” like a curiosity, since friends do not deserve to be treated like frogs in biology class. Words shared in private around a Crow family dinner table or at the religious Sweat Lodge deserve respect and privacy. As a non-Indian, when I dare tell you what Indians think or need or want, you can be sure that I am using extreme care to simply repeat what I hear again and again from highly regarded American Indians, and that I am not substituting my ideas for theirs. I need you, and I was shameless in trying to entice you with stories, but this book has a deadly serious purpose far beyond entertainment.
I want you to take a definite and strong role in this story. To entice you further I will invite you to Montana and take your hand, where we can dance together to the Indian drum. We’ll eat too much fry bread, stay up too late and sleep on the ground looking up at the glory of Big Sky, and you will not be the same again.
If you come, don’t be alarmed that Indians might hate you and go for your throat or your wallet, molest your kids or vandalize your car. Don’t expect to see absolute joy in every Indian face at your presence. Some have great difficulty in overcoming revulsion at the white-world that oppresses them. Still, they will see you as allies and supporters. If you still fear, then stand near me. The Gentle People know me, and you will have safe passage in Small Nation. Come and stand beside us, we need your strength and your love.
One day, while Richard was Chairman, I attended Crow Fair with several white friends. I dressed like a tourist, in shorts and sandals, wearing sunglasses and a floppy hat, with a camera hanging around my neck, and with friends I’d simply come to see an Indian Parade. As I sat on the ground with some of the children, Richard came down the road on his paint-stallion, in full regalia. He wore the headdress of a Chief, and was glorious in white buckskins with beadwork. When his horse drew near, he stopped it in the middle of the road and turned the horse to face me. With his right hand stretched out, turned up at the elbow and with open palm, he gave me the formal Salute of Crow Nation.
I was not expecting that, and didn’t realize he would see me sitting there on the ground. I was slow to react and stupidly just kept my seat and gave him the casual wave of a tourist. Richard, my friend, today I return my salute to you and to Crow Nation.
I was recently present in an Indian home where a great grandfather had a toddler on his knee, and was gently folding down one finger at a time, saying, in the Crow language:
one, two, three, four, five,
(“hawate, duupe, daawiia, shoope, chiaxxo,”)
and then (“kalakoon”), the other hand,
six, seven, eight, nine, ten,
(“akaawe, sahpua, duupahpe, hawatahpe, pilake,”)
followed by a tickle and the child’s giggle. By this process the Crow language is learned and culture passes from generation to generation. There is nothing evil about Crow children learning the Crow language. The tenacity of human beings to hold on to culture is beautiful, and a marvel to witness. Indian languages in general are failing, but in this distinguished Crow family, survival of the language, religion and culture are assured.
The occasion was a child’s birthday party in a Crow household, and the only words spoken in English were for my benefit, plus the “Happy Birthday” song, which was sung in English. I was the only non-Indian present but the children were not afraid of me, for I had just come from the Sweat Lodge and had prayed and drummed with their great grandfather. The birthday-girl, about eight, handed me a piece of cake, and when I said “happy birthday” she responded with a smile, and in perfect English, with a shy “thank you.” She will grow up in a world of two cultures and two languages.
All of us are enriched by diverse cultures that change and grow. This birthday-girl will select from each what she finds most satisfying and uplifting. By this process she will grow, and she in turn will present the best to her children. It is good and proper for this to continue. The Crow People, and all surviving tribes, have a right to live in peace and to govern themselves as promised.
Have you been to Rosebud, South Dakota? That’s just one of the places to go if you want to see what genocide is, for many of the Sioux are dying. They die of despair waiting in vain for the return of their human dignity, land and treaty promises. Death comes in bottles of cheap wine and beer. Many drink themselves to death, a slow suicide for despairing people with dim eyes, soaked in wine, many of the surviving children retarded with fetal alcohol disease. The adults die young.
A man from Rosebud phoned me in Montana. He had read about me in the papers, said he knew my words, and he wanted me to tell him I was a prophet. He was grasping at straws, looking for a source of help for the Sioux. I was sad when he also said, “You know you’ll be killed, aren’t you afraid?,” and yes I was afraid.
I had to answer no, my friend, I’m not a prophet, and I don’t have power to stop the death. Too many want you dead and are amused to see your agony. The white man wanted your holy land, the Black Hills, because gold was there for the taking. The whites felt no land was beyond exploiting. Ranchers wanted your grasslands and saw you with less right to live than the cattle. Cattle could be killed for cash, while you only produced cheap skulls and arm bones. They blame your death on you, and they joke about drunken Indians in the gutter.
There is a whole chain of events that causes your death. You were forced into the badlands so you would starve quickly and quietly. There was gold in the hills, and part of it was used to buy Indian land for the Hearst family in California, where the Chumash Indians in turn were displaced. True leap-frogging, using Indian resources stolen from one tribe to destroy another, the white man’s capitalism at it’s lowest.
The Hearst family had a grand time. They built themselves a castle overlooking the Pacific, imported great works of art, entertained movie stars, bought newspapers to give voice to their ethic, and bought politicians. They have since given Hearst Castle to California, but their children own the land and the newspapers, they are rich and called successful while the few remaining Chumash are called “diggers.”
Of the Chumash, only a handful remain of their 150,000, and they die on a 99-acre reservation in California, near former President Reagan’s ranch. It is too late for the gentle Chumash. I have seen this, and I tell you it is true. They were mass-murdered with poison, shot down in “drives” like rabbits, burned alive, and the more fortunate ones hung on a rope by land hungry pioneers.
There are still some Indians who have a chance at life, and we must direct our energy where there is hope. Our fellow humans are precious. We can not allow genocide to continue without opposition, and the new genocide is Indian poverty combined with no control over personal and tribal destiny.
We read about China’s involvement in Tibet. There was a recent period when most of the Buddhist temples were destroyed, and religious expression was prohibited or put down. The Dali Lama, central religious leader, had to flee Tibet and has not yet returned. Many Chinese were relocated into Tibet, to outnumber the locals. This is an obvious form of genocide, but is our record with our American Indians any better?
Most Indians in the Eastern states were forcibly uprooted and driven to Oklahoma, squeezed into territory already owned by resident tribes there. Countless thousands died on the “trail of tears,” a death march in the “land of the free.” Some reservations were established, but federal promises were all broken and more tribes were forced onto land promised to previous Indian refugees.
White settlers claimed “free” land in Indian Country. Indian lands were allocated and there was a federal land-rush in 1889, displacing the tribes with 50,000 white homesteaders who came to claim Indian land. Christian missionaries came, and Indians were denied religious freedom, required to cut their braids, and starved to death if they did not give up “heathen ways” of sharing and brotherhood. The Sundance was halted by military force, never mind the Constitution that guarantees religious freedom. It was twisted to mean be Christian like me, or die.
Today Oklahoma is 95% white, and the proud tribal civilizations have in too many cases become history. Genocide is near complete. Genocide not only can happen here, it has happened in the United States countless times. Take a look at the history of your own state, and if you’re not afraid to look at it honestly, you’ll find genocide there. None of our present 50 states are free of it.
In thirty years or so, the whites ruined the rich land of Oklahoma by overgrazing their cattle, and with the plow. Do you remember your history about the dust storms of the 1920’s and 1930’s, and the mass out-migration of the “Oakies?” Too often this is what we have done with the Indian lands.
And just where in hell is our American sense of gratitude and appreciation for this beautiful land we call the United States? A rancher will say, this land has been farmed by our family for a hundred years. Prior to that? A blank, nothing said about the former owners. It appears that the land was sitting there, unloved and unoccupied, “finders-keepers.” That is marvelous self-deception. We need not always rub our noses in it by saying that the former owners were killed or driven out, but how about a little appreciation, or at least recognition.
Talk to a park ranger, draw him out, and ask him or her just where the land come from. Usually the answer is that it was just found idle, but ask again, about Indian owners. Then the answer is usually that no tribe owned it or occupied it, although a few hunters wandered across it now and again. More self-deception, every inch of the United States was claimed by some tribal group or shared by several in common.
If the American ethic does not provide very well for gratitude, can we at least look at the past in a more wholesome and honest way? Now what is so wrong about the following? You enter Glacier National Park on your great vacation trip “out West.” At the entrance there is a memorial stone or statue, with an inscription something like this:
The People of the United States express their appreciation to the People of the Blackfeet Nation for having relinquished this beautiful land for use by all citizens as a National Park.”
The Wyandot? The Jesuit priests recorded that there were 20,000 in 1639. After the survivors were forced to move to Oklahoma, a count in 1940 listed just three Wyandot of full blood. (A Guide to the Indian Tribes of Oklahoma) You see it (genocide) does happen here, and the process of cultural death, a crime against humanity, will continue unless you and I take action now.
Let’s talk about Indian Recovery and how to get it done. It’s foolish to think Indians will survive (with their identity intact) without control of their own government and land, which the treaties promised. It’s time to keep the American Promise.
You and I can start the process to insure that a thousand years from now at least some of our American Cousins will continue to live. They all have a right to life, but they are dying (as a unique people with an intact culture) and only a few will make it. To concentrate our energies means starting toward Indian recovery someplace with somebody, and doing it sometime specific, like right now. I propose we start with the Crow, and call this mission “Save Crow Nation.” Where applied to other tribes as appropriate, it allows for a substantial Indian recovery.
You and I are all that there is, so it’s up to us, nobody else. My proposal is just a few pages ahead. I ask for your help, because I can’t go any further without you. Together we are an irresistible force that can uplift humanity, and before God there is no greater role in life than that.