S.E. RUCKMAN: Spirit of rebellion alive and kicking in Indian Country

Making a deal with the Devil is second nature in Indian Country. We had no choice but to get savvy after the selling of Manhattan Island for a handful of beads. Since then the nations have had a death grip on the short end of the stick.

Recently, a permanent display was opened on Alcatraz Island in California recognizing the dawn of the “Red Power” (sic) movement.  In 1969, a small group of Indian activists (called Indians of All Tribes) decided to lay claim on the abandoned, old prison off San Francisco Bay. The rocky sea perch once held the infamous penitentiary that was abandoned in 1963 and declared surplus by the federal government.

Like a dream I just woke up from, I learned Alcatraz was called Pelican Island at one time, served as a stronghold for Civil War inmates, morphed into a prison and later found refuge as a National Historic Landmark.

One group-- then another-- managed to capture and reclaim the federal island on various legal precedents. Indians (and guilt-ridden sympathizers) occupied the island for about 19 months.  As philosophical Play-Doh, the occupation molded a statement by the tribes to the federal government about broken promises and the validity of treaties.

Around the modern Internet campfire, I read how word got out and the gathering grew to over 700 folks (No Facebook then). In hindsight, it was fitting that this symbolic recapture of Alcatraz Island happened in stinging salt air like the kind at Manhattan Island. They say that true karma operates with a fail-proof boomerang.

Vocally, the takeover was the appropriate time to say the right thing. We were coming out of a fugue state that had encased us for two hundred years. Protestors held out for an American Indian cultural center and college at the site.  Sadly, both never materialized.

In any case, we now know the tapestry unraveled at some point near 1970. The federal government found a way to disrupt utilities and it signaled the end of the occupation. Somehow that’s acceptable to me since I viewed the takeover as a statement and not solely an action. And rebellion in its truest form is resistance or defiance to any authority. I’m good with that.

Now educators at the San Francisco State University and California State University East Bay have compiled a multi-media exhibit that highlights the best and worst of those times. The story unfolds in a former band practice room of Alcatraz’s basement. Forget the symbolism in this location; the display is a worthy start for telling Indian history that bears no taint of revisionism.

The new exhibit, “We are Still Here” is more than just about nostalgia for The Good Old Days.  It reminds us that it’s been a long haul over the past forty years in Indian Country.  Other similar occupations sprang up around the country, like Wounded Knee and Washington, D.C., that mimed these footsteps.

The occupation at Alcatraz signaled a turn away from the total war concept we had experienced in the past 200 years.  Our lands, languages, families and food had been divided and conquered by the time the first group approached Alcatraz in a tug boat.

Media coverage aroused the conscience of a watching American public (we had a cosmic ace up our sleeve). It was proved that indifference was no longer a viable federal option toward Indians. 

Even today, bargaining with the Scaled One is a necessity. Tribes are in all levels of court to defend from monumental misdeeds like fiduciary mismanagement, water supremacy and questionable taxation.  This should bring a degree of solace. While takeovers may be a thing of the past, it’s clear that the spirit of rebellion is alive and kicking in Indian Country.