On December 29, 1890, the U.S. 7th Cavalry, the same division defeated at the Battle of the Little Big Horn by Sioux warriors years before, decided it was time to "take this Indian nation." With the murder two weeks earlier of Chief Sitting Bull, the Sioux Nation's inspirational, moral, and political leader, the U.S. Army felt confident of accomplishing its goal.
The Army was comprised of veteran soldiers who had roamed the Western Plains, many since the Civil War, looking for a new war to fight. In the Civil War, they had been asked to fight against friends and family, almost always other people of European descent But these late-century soldiers rode the frontier because they wanted "villains" whose skin was of a different hue.
Actually the Army had ended what it called the Indian Wars -- a peculiar name for wars that in each case were initiated by the U.S. government -- in 1868, with the signing of a general peace treaty. But then gold was discovered in the Black Hills of South Dakota, land controlled by treaty and considered sacred by the Sioux.
When the Sioux rejected offers by the federal government to sell the land, war again became government policy, in order to ensure access to the resources. For years the only interaction between the United States and the Indian Nations was for concession of land and resources, and skirmishes often resulted from their seizure.
In the winter of 1890, the 7th Cavalry was again involved in such a battle. With the village camp at Wounded Knee surrounded, the troops demanded that the male occupants come out of their tents and form a half-circle around the camp. While searching the tents for warriors, the soldiers assaulted the women and children still inside. The Indian soldiers' frustrations could no longer be contained. Where it started is not clear, but at least 146 Native Americans (Indian sources put it at 300) were killed there that day -- 62 of them non-combatant women and children.
Wounded Knee symbolizes a transformation in the history of America's indigenous people. The massacre crushed the spirit of the nations, and the remaining Sioux surrendered and were placed under the authority of the US. government. It marked the end of independence for an independent people.
Of course, these were the ramifications of decisions made ever since the fall of 1492, when Christopher Columbus carried a group of native people back to the Spanish courts. Those three Spanish galleons were not the first European ships to travel these waters. But their impact was the greatest, and so is still remembered today.
With the arrival of the foreigners, especially as they settled, Indian tribes were moved farther and farther west. This caused wars among the Indian nations themselves for the smaller amounts of available space.
In October 1992, much of America will celebrate the arrival of mainland Europeans. But 1992 actually marks the 500th anniversary of an invasion and the heinous consequences that resulted for America's indigenous people.
American Indian people will neither be relegated to a primitively portrayed past nor commemorated in an assimilated future. The Indian nations are confronted with many problems -- some societal-wide, others unique to their communities; some created by their own choices, others imposed by outside powers -- that must be addressed now.
GROWING UP IN NORTH DAKOTA, I was always aware that my home state seemed to be relatively open to the civil rights movement. The battles over the integration and equal rights of African Americans were being waged elsewhere, and the arguments were all too easily dismissed up north.
As a young child, I watched my parents challenge those who decried segregation in the South, trying to get them to consider the treatment of the native populations in their own state. When confronted with their own racism, these people's call for justice became garbled in their throats. Excuses were ever present, and theological and in oral justifications for continued repression were plentiful, if not consistent with their suggestions for how others should respond to minority populations.
The depth of racism was never more evident than in the mid-'70s when the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota was being organized by members of the American Indian Movement. In response, the FBI began preparing for paramilitary operations and training SWAT teams. On June 26,1975, FBI agents entered the Wounded Knee area and a gunfight ensued, with two agents and one American Indian activist being killed.
Four Native Americans were indicted for the murder of these two agents (nobody was ever charged in the death of Joe Stuntz, the American Indian). In subsequent trials, two Indians were acquitted and the charges against one were dropped. Only Leonard Peltier, who was tried in Fargo, North Dakota, was convicted and sent to prison.
In January 1976, just six months after the firefight at Wounded Knee, the tribal chair of the Pine Ridge Reservation and an opponent of the Indian organizers signed over jurisdiction to the Department of Interior for one-eighth of the reservation -- an area rich in natural gas, oil, and uranium. Once again the government obtained access to resources in a battle at Wounded Knee.
Even though the evidence against Peltier has since been discredited, with the witness who testified against him revealing that she was intimidated and harassed by FBI agents into testifying falsely, he remains a federal prisoner. Subsequent efforts to have the case reheard have been denied. He is considered a political prisoner by many organizations, including Amnesty International.
Late in 1989, however, some American Indians and justice advocates in South Dakota formed an alliance, calling for a year of reconciliation in the home state of the Wounded Knee massacre of 1890 and its heir in 1975.
South Dakota Gov. George Mickelson agreed to the call, and in an executive proclamation declared that 1990 would be the year of reconciliation. This was no small change in attitude in a state that just a few years earlier had elected and re-elected a governor who had been charged in tribal court with raping an Indian woman and convicted in absentia.
Unfortunately, the reconciliation was to be one-sided. The governor promised his nervous constituents that what he wanted was for all parties to sit together at the table as friends, not as negotiators bargaining on retaining rights of land, resources, and jurisdiction. He wanted the Indian South Dakotans to sit passively in their inequality, acting like good "civilized" people while their rights were further denied.
And that denial of rights and dignity is deepening. The anti-Indian movement is rearing its head with an ugly vengeance: In Wisconsin and Minnesota, Indian resource rights are being challenged. In Arizona and New Mexico, Indian land rights are being challenged, with some people suggesting the relocation of tribes. Many white extremist groups are calling for a repeal of treaty obligations with Indian nations altogether.
Important cases of religious freedom are also now coming before the courts. Although the use of peyote in Indian religious ceremonies is protected in some states, the Supreme Court recently declared that the First Amendment protection of religious freedom does not prohibit a state from banning the use of peyote in Indian religious ceremonies. And sacred land issues are now being won mainly on the basis of environmental arguments, not on the moral grounds of respect for Indian culture. Even the court decisions that result in upholding Indians' rights often end up fueling violence against native peoples in response.
The scores of history must be settled. The federal government, which has a very poor record of respecting treaty obligations with Indians, must be challenged to sit down nation-to-nation to settle the disputes. Our willingness to rush to the Middle East in the name of border defense must affect the way we treat the Indian nations here.
AS PART OF THE CURRENT ANTI-CRIME craze on Capitol Hill, legislation is being considered that would enact a mandatory death sentence for conviction of capital crimes committed on federal lands. With 61 percent of such crimes committed by American Indians, for the obvious reason that they mostly live on federal land, this law appears to continue the U.S. policies that result in cultural, and in this case physical, genocide of the indigenous community.
Sen. Daniel Inouye (D-Hawaii) was able to insert a pro-Indian amendment to this bill which would give tribal governments the option of being included. The death penalty will apply, but the tribes can "opt out" by deciding not to affirm the legislation. But still, it is sobering to think that had this law been enacted 20 years ago, Leonard Peltier may already have been executed -- even as the evidence of his innocence mounts.
Native Canadians are exhibiting a high degree of solidarity these days, and so are in a somewhat better situation. Two highly publicized events in Quebec have at least put the voices of native people over the airwaves.
The effort by Mohawk Indians in Oca, Quebec -- to protect their sacred tribal lands from conversion into a golf course -- galvanized the native community throughout Canada. Strong shows of support emerged all over the country, with actions of civil disobedience shutting down rail systems and roadways.
Elijah Harper, a native member of the Manitoba provincial legislature, cast the deciding vote that blocked Manitoba's agreement to the Meech Lake Accord, an agreement by the other provinces to give Quebec special sovereign status within the Canadian confederation because of its cultural uniqueness. His action killed the accord, threatening the very fabric of Canada's alignment. Harper's insistence on Indian access to such negotiations makes a strong point for self-determination.
We are reminded by these actions that white America has never addressed the issue of reparation. We invaded, we conquered, we connived, but we haven't even apologized. And we certainly haven't offered compensation. In fact, we have offered settlements on our terms ... and then even taken back the terms. And we continue to do that to this day.
It's time to stop. It's too late for white people to pack up and head back to Europe. That would be no answer. But silence and ignorance is no answer either. It is time for reconciliation, but not on our terms. As Canadian Bruce Cockburn reminds us in song, "It's a stolen land/and we'll never forget/Stolen land/and we're not through yet!"
White America has at least one thing left to discover: Justice for American Indians.
Bob Hulteen was Under Review editor of Sojourners when this article appeared .

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