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Plastic Indians, Nazis, and Genocide

A Perspective on America's Treatment of Indian Nations

Bibliographic Data

ID11075428
AuthorsDavid M Osterfeld (Third Way), Ward Churchill
Year1997
Volume22
Issue2
Pages623
Publication date1997-01-01
Peer ReviewedYes
Open AccessNo
TypeARTICLE
VenueAmerican Indian Law Review (JOURNAL)
Journal identifiersISSN: 0094-002X • E-ISSN: 1930-7918
PublisherJSTOR (PUBLISHER)
DOI10.2307/20068867
OpenAlexW2800704995
LanguageEN

Sizzling the moisture laden air, the hot summer sun creates a sticky incumbrance on human skin.As the wind whistles through the drooping power lines which plague the reservation like a swarm of locusts, damp creosote and sagebrush mix, providing a beautiful aroma and caress to everything encountered.Although the wind is heavy with the sweet smell of rain, storms remain out of sight.This land is a sacred land, tucked into the Third Mesa of the Hopi reservation in Arizona, and home to the voice of elders resting within its womb.Few white men visit, not only because of the hot, rugged, barren terrain, but also because this land is not completely open to tourists or visitors.However, in the distance, a faint cadence stirs the hawks upon the power lines into flight, sending a message to all that something is coming.Straining through the sunlight, one sees a glint in the far distance and begins to hear the cadence strengthen in tenor.As the cadence nears, its source is obvious.In fact, too obvious.With the flip-flop of sandals trudging astride a dime store pony, a pudgy man, of obvious European descent, chants incoherently while beating a freshly tanned hide drum with an unscathed, shiny mallet replete with colorful chicken feathers and plastic beads.Crowning his white pompadour is a headband with obligatory feather attached; while the turquoise bolo tie, beads and bracelet juxtaposed against his tailored tweeds scare even the hungry horse flies away.As this man parades himself about the sacred ground, several other white males, replete in their own "genuine" Indian trappings, attempt to follow the man, as if learning a ballet number in steel toed boots.As this spectacle continues, the Earth rumbles with the voices of Chiefs and Elders."How could a human being be so insensitive as to walk upon sacred ground.Why are we disturbed by an eyesore such as this?" the voices rumble into the sky.The wind answers, "The source of your disturbance is new-age respect for Indigenous cultures."

Ancient history · Art · Ethnology · Genocide · Nazism · Perspective (graphical) · Political science · Politics · Asian American and Pacific Histories · Historical and Contemporary Political Dynamics · History · Italian Fascism and Post-war Society · Law

Citation velocityhistorical
Highly citedNo

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