While waiting at a traffic light on Rochester Road at Auburn in early November some years ago, a bumper sticker on the tailgate of an old Chevy pickup overburdened with a camper read, "You're in Indian Country." It drew a grin on my face as I glanced down to see the license plate. I was, of course, expecting Arizona or New Mexico. My grin widened, it was Michigan. I muttered "Gotcha" to myself.
The gentleman ahead, perhaps a member of the Six Nations, has many things in his favor today. His people have suffered deeply in the past few hundred years but a new cultural emphasis in pow-wow's today has given life to his nation. The United Inter-Tribal Pow-Wow and Native American Economic Summit will host thousands of American Indians in Detroit's Cobo Hall on the weekend following, ironically, our Thanksgiving. As an outsider, I have witnessed many such cultural heritage gatherings locally.
Growing up American today has given me and many others respect for peoples nearly decimated by our ancestors. Let us all assume the North American Indians can rebuild from this point on. Our present way of equal rights has provided avenues for most to have the freedom of expression and an unsurpassed right to organize for their own interests. This assertion to the Indian past is lacking for the most part in their Latin American brothers.
The horror of the Conquest that started five hundred years ago continues today in Latin America. I get chilled today as I recall a holiday gathering at the palatial estate of my Brazilian employer thirty years ago. He, a Hungarian political refugee from the Russian takeover in 1957, was building a business empire in Brazil. Making idle conversation, I told him of buying an Amazon Indian crafted spear at a local shop. His contribution to the conversation was to tell me about his land purchase in the Mato Grosso. “Why?” “Investment.” “For what?” “Lumber.” “What about the local people?” “The government takes care of that.” “Huh?” “If people don’t leave, they send aircraft in and spray them.” “Ugh!”
This is not unlike the atrocities in the settlement of North America. Displacement leads to cultural collapse. Communities are bound together by the physical and spiritual core of the land. The loss of land by indigenous peoples destroys their complex social and political systems. Their language and traditions disappear along with their sacred beliefs. Some people integrate but the removal of people from their land is likened to genocide in slow motion.
Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee was a book in the seventies that made a generation aware of our inhumanity to man and the plight of Red Cloud. Thanks to Wikipedia I was able to locate the words of the surrender of Chief Joseph.
On October 5, 1877, Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce Nation surrendered to units of the US Calvary. Before this retreat the Nez Perce fought a cunning strategic retreat toward refuge in Canada from about 2,000 Army soldiers. This surrender, after fighting 13 battles and going about 1,300 miles toward Canada, marked the last great battle between the U.S. government and an Indian nation. After surrendering, Chief Joseph stated his famous quote "Hear me, my chiefs, I am tired. My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever."
I fear few Brazilians will comprehend, “They’re in Indian Country.”
The gentleman ahead, perhaps a member of the Six Nations, has many things in his favor today. His people have suffered deeply in the past few hundred years but a new cultural emphasis in pow-wow's today has given life to his nation. The United Inter-Tribal Pow-Wow and Native American Economic Summit will host thousands of American Indians in Detroit's Cobo Hall on the weekend following, ironically, our Thanksgiving. As an outsider, I have witnessed many such cultural heritage gatherings locally.
Growing up American today has given me and many others respect for peoples nearly decimated by our ancestors. Let us all assume the North American Indians can rebuild from this point on. Our present way of equal rights has provided avenues for most to have the freedom of expression and an unsurpassed right to organize for their own interests. This assertion to the Indian past is lacking for the most part in their Latin American brothers.
The horror of the Conquest that started five hundred years ago continues today in Latin America. I get chilled today as I recall a holiday gathering at the palatial estate of my Brazilian employer thirty years ago. He, a Hungarian political refugee from the Russian takeover in 1957, was building a business empire in Brazil. Making idle conversation, I told him of buying an Amazon Indian crafted spear at a local shop. His contribution to the conversation was to tell me about his land purchase in the Mato Grosso. “Why?” “Investment.” “For what?” “Lumber.” “What about the local people?” “The government takes care of that.” “Huh?” “If people don’t leave, they send aircraft in and spray them.” “Ugh!”
This is not unlike the atrocities in the settlement of North America. Displacement leads to cultural collapse. Communities are bound together by the physical and spiritual core of the land. The loss of land by indigenous peoples destroys their complex social and political systems. Their language and traditions disappear along with their sacred beliefs. Some people integrate but the removal of people from their land is likened to genocide in slow motion.
Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee was a book in the seventies that made a generation aware of our inhumanity to man and the plight of Red Cloud. Thanks to Wikipedia I was able to locate the words of the surrender of Chief Joseph.
On October 5, 1877, Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce Nation surrendered to units of the US Calvary. Before this retreat the Nez Perce fought a cunning strategic retreat toward refuge in Canada from about 2,000 Army soldiers. This surrender, after fighting 13 battles and going about 1,300 miles toward Canada, marked the last great battle between the U.S. government and an Indian nation. After surrendering, Chief Joseph stated his famous quote "Hear me, my chiefs, I am tired. My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever."
I fear few Brazilians will comprehend, “They’re in Indian Country.”
No comments:
Post a Comment