Slavery was woven into the colonial and national fabric for 240 years and jump-started the economy of a fledgling nation that had no guarantee of success. Much of that expansion and economic growth occurred because settlers pushed off, killed and stole land from its original occupants, often with government and official backing.
Slavery’s role in U.S. history has received increased attention, due to a wave of scholarly studies and accounts in recent years. The Native American experience in the country’s formation and its role in how and where we are is comparatively light.
A group of writers and historians aim to change that, arguing that U.S. history that doesn’t include Native or Indian experiences and influences is incomplete at best, negligent and flat-out inaccurate at worst.
One addition to the catalogue is “The Rediscovery Of America: Native Peoples and the Unmaking of U.S. History,” winner of the 2023 National Book Award for non-fiction. Author Ned Blackhawk is a Shoshone and history professor at Yale, and his work is exhaustively researched and footnoted.
The book opens with a fastball, high and tight: “How can a nation founded on the homelands of dispossessed Indigenous peoples be the world’s most exemplary democracy?”
He writes: “For centuries America and the New World have been ideas that convey a sense of wonder and possibility made manifest by discovery, a historical act in which explorers are the protagonists. They are the drama’s actors and subjects. They think and name, conquer and settle, govern and own. They are at the center … just as Native Americans remain absent or appear as hostile or passive objects awaiting discovery and domination.”
Blackhawk starts with Spanish settlers in the 16th century and works his way through to the end of the 20th century and the Indian sovereignty and power movement. The book includes many developments that people are aware of: diseases brought by European settlers and livestock for which Natives had no immunity and that killed millions; forced movement of tribes away from traditional lands; the staggering number of treaties that government entered into and later broke with Native peoples; state-sanctioned violence against and measures to exterminate Indians, such as troop raids of Indian homesteads and massive bison kill-offs; removal of thousands of children from their homes and placement in government-run Indian boarding schools, many of which had appalling records of abuse.
But Blackhawk also gets into less trod upon areas such as Native influences on the American Revolution and language of the Constitution. He shows that early treaty-making with Indian tribes was essentially training wheels for the new nation and informed later negotiations with foreign governments.
He points out that the country quickly grew beyond its ability to control people and borders, so settlers and local militias in inland areas often took matters into their own hands, either with or without government approval. Government agreements and treaties with various tribes were broken or ignored by settlers.
Discontent with government by those who lived hundreds or thousands of miles away pre-dates the nation’s founding and was an animating force in our development. He discusses how gold and mineral discoveries in the west and accompanying settler booms, as well as the military ramp-up surrounding the Civil War, accelerated Native death and displacement.
Blackhawk provides links between the nation’s settler colonialism practices toward Indians with imperialistic measures such as intervention in Latin America and even far-flung examples like U.S. involvement in the Philippines as part of the Spanish-American War at the end of the 19th century. For example, Pres. Theodore Roosevelt said in a speech at Hampton (Va) Institute in 1906: “The reasoning which justifies our having made war against Sitting Bull also justifies our having checked the outbreak of (Emilio) Aguinaldo and his followers.” If the U.S, he said, “were morally bound to abandon the Philippines, we were also morally bound to abandon Arizona to the Apaches.”
Orville Platt, kind of a racist dick |
Blackhawk writes that the romanticized history of the nation took hold after the Civil War and in the period around the centennial celebration and toward the end of the century. The idea of providence as an elemental part of America and Americans dates to the Puritans. The elimination of slavery had atoned for its primary sin, he writes, and the country’s burgeoning wealth and prosperity and place on the world stage validated its actions. Dealings with Native peoples were sanitized, justified or ignored in the telling.
Blackhawk’s book is a worthy read, though I wouldn’t recommend it for everybody. It’s more textbook than narrative, which is understandable from a historian. There are compelling characters, incidents and descriptions throughout, but they’re often presented without flourish, arguably to the book’s benefit because the message never descends into a polemic. Facts and references tell the tales. Not always an easy read but accounts such as his are necessary ones if we want something more than myth.
10 comments:
Ah, our pal at the beach gives us another heavy post to glide into the weekend, right on time.
Also, Ned Blackhawk is an very cool name.
It's a gift, Scott, to spread joy and mirth throughout the land.
look, rootsy. any good publication needs a mix of hard news, sports, culture, and dipshittery. dave is just mission-focused.
I'm here for the mirth and the dipshittery, so long as I get to do a bit of ball bustin'.
Good shit from the man in the sand. Depressing, but most honest reporting about American history is.
Fear not, Rootsmon, diphshit’ry soon come. For Day Twelve is nearly here.
It's already almost day 12? Time flies.
Busting of balls is always welcome, Scott. Necessary, in fact. If not, I may begin to think that what I write is worth a fig.
I'm not in any way impugning the value of the work, just to be clear. The truth is often unpleasant.
So having a DEI program in the government is now cause for Trump’s Schutzstaffel to come gitcha. How far are we from white and black bathrooms?
I took Native American history during my undergrad years at Florida and as a 21-22 year old it was quite enlightening. Our teacher was a Native American and our primary text was Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee. I've read it again since that time many years ago but it probably merits another read, and this book certainly merits a first read as well.
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