Ryan Smith 1 December 2012 The State of Native American Religion,
Post II: New Direction, New Perspective
Questions, III As the second and final post of research
about the state of Native American religious beliefs and practices, it would be
safe to assume earlier paths of inquiry have led to intellectually satisfying
conclusions. What I have found, though, is that the more I read, the more I feel
compelled to continue reading, thinking and questioning. Questions
are
answered, but the trick is to not be entirely
satisfied
with them. In the last post, I explored two sources which described national
trends in N.A. religious practice, namely the appropriation of traditional
spiritual practices by shrewd, but insensitive, businesses and lost suburban
souls. Another pair of articles discussed N.A. spirituality and practices by
revealing the intimate, and indeed necessary, connection to land and place.
Digging through the earth-as-religious-connection articles, I was tempted to
consider these geographic ties as a resolution to my problem, but rereading has
prompted to me to distrust such convenience. Between these articles, there was
enough information to initiate me, as an amateur, into a community of awareness
I was ignorant of before—and yet, these readings acted more like doors to new
areas of inquiry than windows of pure knowledge. I said the trick is to avoid
being satisfied, but perhaps I meant to avoid intellectual comfort, which always
leads to smugness, never awe. Realizing the impossible breadth of the
direction of the former post, I’ve decided to back up a step, moving from the
details of N.A. religious practices to understanding the state of Native America
more generally. This step is not to expand the topic and questions even further,
but to admit a certain conceptual defeat, and attempt a new, more modest, way
in. Specifically, the articles at hand examine the would-be field of Native
American studies—an approach with the potential to both preserve and spoil
worldwide understanding of traditional American cultures, past and present—and
the idea of tribal nationhood—a path which may be the future of N.A. sovereignty
or may be something of a pipe-dream. The spiritual essence of such a diverse
group of peoples may indeed be beyond abstract, detached research, but still, an
awareness of the academic perspective and where political movements stand is a
basic means to begin the search for understanding in earnest.
“In Search of Theory and Method in American Indian
Studies”—Duane Champagne
http://libproxy.uhcl.edu:2200/journals/american_indian_quarterly/v031/31.3champagne.html Duane Champagne’s article both
contemplates the current status of N.A. studies, and presents scholarly
justification for further studies, complete with a global generalization aimed
at the inclusion of indigenous peoples everywhere. The primary drive behind N.A.
research is as political as it is cultural—to actually understand, and therefore
successfully interact with Native Americans, we must learn what is behind their
socio-political choices, such as resistance to the US government. In his own
dense but loaded words: “American Indian cultural emphasis on retaining culture,
identity, self-government, and stewardship of land and resulting contestations
with the U.S. government and society forms a body of empirical social action
that constitutes the subject matter of American Indian studies as an academic
discipline” (Champagne 352). While the author admits that Native American
studies have been steadily improving for students, he finds that the field
itself lacking. In a succinct paragraph, he lists several problems: research is
scattered and incoherent, study is dispersed between many different disciplines,
and fields which incorporate N.A. studies often consider it a variant of their
own topics. The possibility for an independent program is further complicated
when taking university structure and funding into account. To save money,
universities often simply offer willing teachers the opportunity to teach what
they already know about Native Americans. It comes down to, Champagne says, the
autonomy (or lack thereof) and business plans of colleges: “Universities and
colleges serve broad American local and state interests, and significant
investment in American Indian studies as a discipline is not generally a high
priority or seen as a significant issue demanding attention” (357).
The author also explains theoretical
reasons why American Indian programs have difficulty developing which reduce to
a fundamental ignorance or misunderstanding of Native American culture. Often
this is due to the limitations present in
the American English vocabulary—we speak, for
example, of tribal nationhood (this research post is explicitly concerned with
the idea), but the word “nation” may be misleading and inadequate when thinking
about traditional tribal structures. Champagne goes on to identify
(post)colonialism as the core concept behind most N.A. studies, yet, helpful and
sympathetic as the perspective can be, it is traditionally Eurocentric and is
almost necessarily bereft of the view of the colonized. Similarly, N.A.
research, if it is to succeed and remain consistent, should have the long-term
interest of the communities being studied at heart, not Western goals.
Ultimately, Native American cultures are so vastly different—in terms of race,
spirituality, class and other familiar labels—that studies from any field other
than serious N.A. study are bound to, at best, partial understanding. The often
intimidating sense of autonomy and non-participation—on every level, from
culture to government and beyond—is an important focus for the field, and should
color much of the research. A successful Indigenous studies field, which
Champagne prefers to an American-only one, will not only properly conceptualize
and theorize itself, but, in a practical move, be closely involved with the
political will of existing peoples and the governments which engulf them.
“More Light Than Heat: The Current State of Native American
Studies”—Jace Weaver
http://libproxy.uhcl.edu:2200/journals/american_indian_quarterly/v031/31.2weaver.html
Jace Weaver, writing as both a “professor
of Native American Studies” and a “native person,” begins by echoing Champagne’s
appraisal of N.A. studies as fragmented between various disciplines, but quickly
moves into recommendations and requirements for a possible program. In a series
of refreshing, straightforward paragraphs, Weaver describes what a Native
American field of study might, ideally, look like. First, he lays out potential
course requirements—“cultures, literature, law and policy, history, and
archaeology” are the core— with the goal of giving “students as broad an
interdisciplinary grounding as possible in NAS” (Weaver 235-6). The comparative
nature of the field, which is unavoidable given the sheer amount of tribal
variety, is explained next, followed by a paragraph on the necessary perspective
for N.A. studies; again, mirroring the former author’s concerns with the
colonial perspective, Weaver insists that the perspective of Indians should not
only included, but privileged, perhaps exclusively. Most histories of Native
America have been, in essence, concerned primarily with Indians as seen and
experienced by pioneers, settlers, and other whites; for the field to have
purpose and legitimacy, perspectives must shift significantly. The fourth aspect
of N.A. studies is the need for advocacy, which includes support of and
involvement in Indian affairs. Wisely, Weaver anticipates resistance to such an
active participation—how much more pleasant and safe to study the past and
ignore the present, yes?—which he derides as dishonest, even exploitative. Such
scholars are then described, amusingly but to the point, as “poachers” and
“squatters” of Indian history and culture. Exploitative or not, these people
have forgotten, or never admitted, the inevitable political nature of their
work: “All scholarship serves some end, some ideological agenda, whether it is
honest about it or not” (Weaver 236). As Champagne recommended, Weaver suggests
that N.A. studies be “borderless” and encompass indigenous people all over the
planet, who may share solidarity with one another on for various reasons.
The field as it stands, the author says, is a
“mess.” Besides shoddy scholarship and misguided intentions, there are the
persistent problems of Indian-ness being claimed those merely attracted to some
aspect of native-ness—as reflected in post one—and unrepentant victimhood,
sometimes on the part of Native Americans themselves, but often on those who
claim to study them. In the first case, matters are made worse by research which
claims that nearly all Americans, because of intermarriage, are part Indian;
whether this is genetically true or not, Weaver correctly identifies this trend
as irrelevant to N.A. studies, and by essentially erasing Native identity,
profoundly damaging. Much of the essay bemoans hindrances to the development of
the field—“lack of academic association,” such as the Modern Language
Association or the American Anthropological Association, for example—but time is
taken for successes as well: wider recognition, new programs, healthy
publications, and excellent books are all “signs of vitality in our field.” The
article ends with a look towards a “traditional future”—one in which old ways
are practiced but adapted to the challenges and opportunities globalization
brings to native peoples.
“Actually Existing Indian Nations: Modernity, Diversity,
and the Future of Native American Studies”—Scott Richard Lyons
http://libproxy.uhcl.edu:2200/journals/american_indian_quarterly/v035/35.3.lyons.html
Drawing upon a number of relevant factors, Scott
Richard Lyons’s article attempts a contemporary analysis of Native American
studies, with special interest in the political aspects of the field. “Actually
Existing Indian Nations” begins with a brief history of N.A. studies, noting its
politicizing, which began in the 1960’s but gained considerable ground in the
1980’s. This movement has now become more or less global, and as other authors
have identified, has begun to include indigenous people of all kinds. Uniting
disparate global groups is the desire for freedom from forms of colonization and
imperialism, which entails both economic justice and political self-governance.
These movements do not, however, “seek an independent state so much as tribal
autonomy” (Lyons 296). Lyons identifies two strands of political actions—“tribal
transnationalisms”—of indigenous peoples: “one advancing local nationalisms
using internationalist means, the other trying to make the world align more
closely with indigenous values,” although he admits that both are closely
interrelated and work more in concordance than at odds. (296).
The article goes on to describe
the Ojibwe reservation Lyons grew up on, Leech Lake, Minnesota, which he
identifies as “an actually existing Indian nation.” This “nation” was assembled
and recognized by US authorities in 1855, and was comprised of various tribes
who shared a language but had little else in common. The author makes three
distinct points regarding this nation-reservation; the first lies in the
destructive but inescapable presence of colonialism. Reservations, Lyons
explains are
internal American colonies: “Natives who live on them possess dual citizenship
(since 1924 Indians have been legally American citizens as well as citizens of
their tribal nations) and thus have a peculiar dual identity as both American
and colonial subjects depending on the space they inhabit at a given time”
(301-2). Ironically, the “same person living elsewhere in the United States is
an American of tribal descent—or, if you prefer, an ethnic minority—with
American rights” (302). The author’s second observation is that the people of
the Ojibwe reservation are incredibly diverse—their religious beliefs, for
example, range from traditional (and there are many versions of traditional
practice) to variants of Christianity to atheist/non-believing and so on. The
entire idea of such a reservation is unnatural, historically speaking,
synthetic, and arbitrary. Lyon’s final remark is of the capability of Indian
people to handle modernity, to adapt to and navigate—as they have throughout
history—issues of globalization, assimilation and so on. Too many scholars,
Lyons explains, see N.A. studies as a dead field, or one exclusively dealing
with the past; modern Native Americans, of course, exist, and the field should
make these communities its priority. When the dominant culture sets up, through
its academia, a false binary between civil and savage, or modern and non-modern,
it is often disastrous for Indians.
Lyons describes ways in which tribal people are
modernizing, including fighting for national and/or indigenous rights, but
always has an eye in both directions, one past and one present/future. The past
is inescapable, and important, but modern Native Americans are literally the
future of research and study. The article ends with the recognition of the
dreamy comfort found in seeing Native peoples as mystic earth-people,
steadfastly clinging to ancient rituals, “but the danger of this comfort is a
romanticization that not only misreads an actually existing Indian nation but
actually condescends to it and ultimately excludes it” (Lyons 310).
Reclaiming Indigenous Intellectual, Political, and
Geographic Space: A Path for Navajo Nationhood—Lloyd L. Lee
http://libproxy.uhcl.edu:2200/journals/american_indian_quarterly/v032/32.1lee.html
Lloyd L. Lee’s article starts strong, proclaiming
the longevity of Navajo society, which “for millennia” has been
“self-sufficient.” The last hundred plus years, however, have slowly eroded that
autonomy and replace traditional means of tribal unity and governance with
Western-style administration. The Indians under these bureaucracies, Lee says,
are increasingly unsatisfied, and prominent N.A. writers have been speaking up,
calling not only for sovereignty, but for independence (96-7). Although
different indigenous peoples call for different ways of governing and obtaining
independence—some encourage individual connections to Indian personhood, others
put emphasis on national solidarity—autonomy is the shared objective.
The reasons why the Navajo, and
other tribal peoples, are not actively fighting for nationhood are listed and
explained by Lee. For the Navajo, specific philosophic/spiritual principles
“which provide the ways to maintain a healthy lifestyle and environment” are
either ignored, or are simply not being incorporated into daily life and
thought; similarly, knowledge of Navajo culture, including language and
religious practice, is steadily disintegrating. This is partly due to the change
and growth which comes with all successive generations, but can also be
contributed to the US Government’s active attempts to enforce Western education
on young Navajo. Social
ills, such as alcoholism, poverty and so on also prevent or discourage Indians
from using their energies for self-governance. Despite these setbacks,
nationhood is possible, and only requires a concentrated effort on the part of
native peoples.
Certain political routes to nationhood are
recommended by Lee before he names education as a crucial factor in cultural and
political awareness. “The current education system” he explains, “teaches Navajo
people to acculturate to American society and develop a loyalty to the
settler-colonial nation-state. It does not teach them how to balance historical
Navajo thought with American education” (Lee 104). Neither does such a system
give students an understanding of different forms of oppression, a skill
integral to understanding Native American culture; instead of fostering
political understanding and creativity, Western education is designed to produce
appropriate workers, or in some cases foster abstract introspection, based on
self rather than community (Lee 105). Navajo people—and ostensibly, indigenous
people everywhere—must move towards true independence. Without such autonomy,
traditional ways of thinking will not only disappear, but will be barred from
growing and evolving as so much of Western thought has been allowed to.
Questions, IV
It is difficult to fend off the heaviness of
overwhelming ignorance which inevitably descends when asking big questions—maybe
any serious questions. One question may yield several answers, with each answer
revealing new unknowns. This isn’t to say, however, that the situation is
hopeless, but rather to say that it is near-infinite. To those seeking answers
and wisdom, this limitlessness ought to be a great joy—though many of us may be
tired for such enthusiasm. Not only is there always more to be learned, but
there are ever-increasing connections to be made as well.
Moving outwards from a
relatively direct examination of existing Native American religious beliefs to
an attempt at grasping the current possibilities and actualities of N.A. studies
has been, in some ways, disappointing. I want unambiguous answers to my
questions about the future of N.A. spirituality—which, in my naivety, I dreamed
might shake up the West and the rest of the world—but I am increasingly aware
that the continental-sea of indigenous culture and religion is so complex as to
be almost impenetrable. Meanings of rituals and stories are lost or twisted as
the planet becomes increasingly interconnected; the seeds of explosive,
transcendent fruitfulness
are present, but every
seed, we know, must die before it grows. My newfound respect for the
geographical nature of native practices is significant, but I am bitterly aware,
also, of the seeming inevitability of the destruction and theft of natural
places. A comprehensive research field dedicated to indigenous advocacy is in
the works, and may be our best bet at conserving and supporting such culture,
but faces setbacks in every direction. Indian nationhood may be inherently able
to preserve itself, but such autonomy is doubtful.
Perhaps
the questions themselves need rewording, or reimagining. It may be that requests
offered from comfortable detachment, as cool abstractions, will be denied, or
responded to with like inertia. Wondering demands wandering, and words, I think,
should never rest in the mind or mouth, but must move to the feet and hands.
Works Cited Champagne, Duane. “In Search of Theory
and Method in American Indian Studies.” The American
Indian Quarterly 31.3 (2007): 353-72. Web. 1
December 2012. Lee, Lloyd L. “Reclaiming Indigenous
Intellectual, Political, and Geographic Space: A Path for Navajo Nationhood.”
The American Indian Quarterly
32.1 (2008): 96-110. Web. 1 December 2012. Lyons, Scott Richard. “Actually Existing
Indian Nations: Modernity, Diversity, and the Future of Native American
Studies.” The
American Indian Quarterly 35.3 (2011): 294-311.
Web. 1 December 2012. Jace, Weaver. “More Light Than Heat: The
Current State of Native American Studies.” The
American Indian Quarterly 31.2 (2007): 233-55. Web.
1 December 2012.
|