Mumia Abu-Jamal from death row:
Some who feel no reason for Thanksgiving
Published Nov 30, 2006 12:26 AM
From an audio message played at the 37th annual National
Day of Mourning rally in Plymouth, Mass., Nov. 23. Go to
prisonradio.org to hear Abu-Jamal’s political
columns.
To this day, I can hardly bear to think of that quintessentially
American holiday—Thanksgiving.
When I do, however, I do not dwell on Pilgrims with wide black
hats sitting to sup with red men, their long hair adorned with
eagle feathers. I think not of turkeys or of cranberries, foods
now traditional for the day of feast.
Unlike millions, I don’t even think of the day’s
football game. And not thinking of it, I don’t watch
it.
I think of the people we have habitually called
“Indians,’’ the Indigenous people of the
Americas; those millions who are no more.
I think of those precious few who remain, and wonder, what do
they think of this day; this national myth of sweet brotherhood
that masks what can only be called genocide?
Several years ago, I read a thin text that was pregnant with
poignancy. It was a collection of Native remarks from the first
tribes who encountered whites in New England, and down through
several hundred years. Throughout it all, the same vibration
could be felt, no matter what the clan or tribe—a profound
sense of betrayal and wrong from people who were treated like
brethren when they first arrived.
In New England, the name Powhatan (ca. 1547-1618) is still
recalled (even if that wasn’t his name, but what the
English called him). Known as Wahunsonacock by his people, he
headed a confederacy of 32 tribes and governed an area of
hundreds of miles. He was the father of Pocahontas, the young
Indian maiden who saved the life of Capt. John Smith. A year
after sparing Smith’s life, the white captain threatened
the great chief. This is some of his response given in 1609:
“Why should you take by force that from us which you can
have by love? Why should you destroy us, who have provided you
with food? We can hide our provisions, and fly into the woods;
and then you must consequently famish by wronging your friends.
What is the cause of your jealousy? You see us unarmed, and
willing to supply your wants, if you come in a friendly manner,
and not with swords and guns, as to invade an enemy. I am not so
simple, as not to know it is better to eat good meat, lie well,
and sleep quietly with my women and children; to laugh and be
merry with the English; and, being their friend, to have copper,
hatchets, and whatever else I want, than to fly from all, to lie
cold in the woods, feed upon acorns, roots, and such trash, and
to be so hunted, that I cannot rest, eat, or sleep. In such
circumstances, my men must watch, and if a twig should but break,
all would cry out, ‘Here comes Capt.
Smith’; and in this miserable manner, to
end my miserable life; and, Capt. Smith, this
‘might’ be soon
your fate too, through your rashness and unadvisedness. I
therefore, exhort you to peaceable councils; and, above all, I
insist that the guns and swords, the cause of all our jealousy
and uneasiness, be removed and sent away.” (Blaisdell, Bob,
ed., Great Speeches by Native Americans. Mineola, N.Y.: Dover
Press, 2000, p.4.)
That great chief’s sentiments would be echoed for over
hundreds of years, but injustice would just be piled on
injustice. Genocide would be the white answer to red life.
Centuries later, what can Thanksgiving Day mean to Native
peoples?
Thank you for stealing our land? Thank you for wiping out our
people?
Thank you for placing a remnant of our once great numbers on
rural ghettoes called reservations?
Thank you for abolishing most of the ancient traditions?
Thank you for poisoning what little Indian lands remain with
uranium?
Thank you for poisoning the lands now inhabited by the
whites?
Thank you for letting Indians fight in American wars against
other people?
Thanks.
The real tragedy is that millions of Americans don’t know,
and don’t want to know about Indian history and
traditions.
Today, the names of rivers, lakes and landmarks bear indigenous
markers of another age.
The people, except for an occasional movie, are mostly forgotten,
out of mind, the easier to replace with false images of happy
meals and turkey dinners. Happy Thanksgiving.
Articles copyright 1995-2012 Workers World.
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