Globe: Margaret Wente - The new warrior class
Post
The new warrior class, Margaret Wente, Globe and Mail, Saturday July 15 2006
Taiaiake Alfred does not consider himself a Canadian. He is first and foremost Onkwehonwe, a "true person," one of the original people. He regards Phil Fontaine, most band councils, and the current native leadership with contempt. By co-operating with the government, they are helping to implement the assimilationist agenda of the Settlers (i.e. non-natives). He rejects the use of violence, but he does believe in what he calls "direct action" to achieve native aims. He is first and foremost a warrior, who believes in substantive restitution for the loss of Turtle Island (also known as North America).
The warrior is also a professor -- one of a new generation of tenured radicals who are schooling the next generation in the politics of resistance.
"To the extent I relate to Canada, it's purely in instrumental terms," says Taiaiake, as he prefers to be known. "I have a prominent position within the university, I've got a letter from Jean Chrétien on my wall, I have awards, recognition, I have a Canada Research Chair. But they are not indicative of my status as a Canadian. The Canadians are people you have a relationship with. I'd have to be a schizophrenic to say I'm a Canadian."
Taiaiake, who has a PhD from Cornell, heads the indigenous governance program at the University of Victoria. Now in its seventh year, its purpose is to train future native leaders. But its focus is not so much managerial as philosophical. It wants to ensure that those leaders are thoroughly grounded in authentic indigenous culture. "The core element of our program," he says, "is personal decolonization."
If you want to understand the impasse at Caledonia, talking to Taiaiake is a good place to start. If David Peterson, the well-meaning emissary appointed by the Ontario government, had done that, he never would have made the mistake of believing that charm and negotiating skills would accomplish anything. "We have to act in contention with the government, not in co-operation with it," says Taiaiake.
For the moment, things are calm at Caledonia, where the Six Nations reserve claims a piece of land that others sold to unsuspecting developers. Earlier this year, activists occupied the land, erected barricades and disrupted local traffic. Tempers flared. A cameraman was assaulted. A judge issued arrest warrants and ordered the land to be cleared, but the Ontario Provincial Police weren't about to get caught in that trap. They (and the government) remember the lessons of Oka and Ipperwash all too well. Inevitably, the government bought the land, reimbursed the developers, and then, for good measure, shelled out compensation to inconvenienced local residents. The government is hoping it can buy peace. At that rate, peace could get expensive, as the Six Nations' total claims cover a good chunk of southern Ontario.
The 1990 standoff over Oka, which produced that iconic image of two warriors -- one a native, one a soldier -- facing off, was a galvanizing moment for many young natives. Taiaiake was working for the band council there at the time. "Oka pretty much demonstrated to me that the way to achieve change was not to negotiate it," he says. "It left a lasting impression on me."
Unlike the ragtag protesters at Oka, many of them with criminal records, the young protesters at Caledonia are educated, employable, articulate, and well-versed in their rights. For that, you can thank people such as Dawn Martin-Hill (Mohawk, Wolf Clan). Prof Martin-Hill, who lives on the reserve, is also the director of the Indigenous Studies program at McMaster University in Hamilton, only a few miles away.
The official aim of McMaster's program is to "to increase awareness of indigenous cultures and issues." But the program -- and the faculty who teach it -- are explicitly political, and they actively support the "reclamation" of the land at Caledonia. Like Taiaiake, Prof. Martin-Hill has a very clear-cut view of the world. "If your inheritance was stolen and the government stole it, you have a right to get it back." She has taught more than a thousand students in the past decade, both native and non-native.
Not every native academic is as rejectionist as these two. They are Mohawks, and the Mohawks have always claimed to be a sovereign nation. (Neither of them votes, because Canada is not their country.) But their narrative of oppression has a familiar ring. It is repeated ad nauseam on campuses across the nation, in social science courses, anthropology courses, women's studies courses, and anywhere with courses in ethnic studies or globalization. Eurocentric white civilization is the colonial oppressor. It has exploited its dark-skinned victims around the world by means of global capitalism. (The word "genocide" usually figures in this narrative.) Only by throwing off the white man's chains will its victims be redeemed. Compromise is not an option. As Taiaiake writes in his latest book, Wasase (a word signifying an ancient war ritual), "any accommodation to liberal democracy is a surrender of the very essence of any kind of an Onkwehonwe existence." The irony that his comfortable livelihood is supplied by a liberal democracy probably won't elude you.
Taiaiake's philosophy is heavily indebted to white men such as Chomsky and Foucault. "On a theoretical level, the enemy of our struggle is the noxious mix of monotheistic religiosity, liberal political theory, neoliberal capitalist economics and their supportive theories of racial superiority, and the false assumption of euroamerican cultural superiority," he writes. And there is another theme -- the theme of the inherent superiority of indigenous cultures, in which people are at one with the land and societies are egalitarian. "The ideals of peace, respect, harmony and coexistence," we are told, "are at the heart of Onkwehonwe philosophies."
Indulging in romantic primitivism is bad enough when white people do it. But Taiaiake's version is even worse. The cover of his book features an illustration of a tattooed, feathered warrior that could have come straight from the pages of James Fenimore Cooper. The myth of the noble savage has been resurrected, in academia.
Taiaiake's version of racial essentialism strikes me as -- not to put too fine a point on it -- racist. But then, I'm just a Settler -- a Settler who used to think that a new wave of educated, energetic, forward-looking native youth might begin to leave identity politics behind. How wrong I was.
"I think we have a generation of native leaders emerging who are quite willing to use their assets in a strategic and political way," he says.
"You're going to see this group of young people reassert their nations again."
Taiaiake Alfred does not consider himself a Canadian. He is first and foremost Onkwehonwe, a "true person," one of the original people. He regards Phil Fontaine, most band councils, and the current native leadership with contempt. By co-operating with the government, they are helping to implement the assimilationist agenda of the Settlers (i.e. non-natives). He rejects the use of violence, but he does believe in what he calls "direct action" to achieve native aims. He is first and foremost a warrior, who believes in substantive restitution for the loss of Turtle Island (also known as North America).
The warrior is also a professor -- one of a new generation of tenured radicals who are schooling the next generation in the politics of resistance.
"To the extent I relate to Canada, it's purely in instrumental terms," says Taiaiake, as he prefers to be known. "I have a prominent position within the university, I've got a letter from Jean Chrétien on my wall, I have awards, recognition, I have a Canada Research Chair. But they are not indicative of my status as a Canadian. The Canadians are people you have a relationship with. I'd have to be a schizophrenic to say I'm a Canadian."
Taiaiake, who has a PhD from Cornell, heads the indigenous governance program at the University of Victoria. Now in its seventh year, its purpose is to train future native leaders. But its focus is not so much managerial as philosophical. It wants to ensure that those leaders are thoroughly grounded in authentic indigenous culture. "The core element of our program," he says, "is personal decolonization."
If you want to understand the impasse at Caledonia, talking to Taiaiake is a good place to start. If David Peterson, the well-meaning emissary appointed by the Ontario government, had done that, he never would have made the mistake of believing that charm and negotiating skills would accomplish anything. "We have to act in contention with the government, not in co-operation with it," says Taiaiake.
For the moment, things are calm at Caledonia, where the Six Nations reserve claims a piece of land that others sold to unsuspecting developers. Earlier this year, activists occupied the land, erected barricades and disrupted local traffic. Tempers flared. A cameraman was assaulted. A judge issued arrest warrants and ordered the land to be cleared, but the Ontario Provincial Police weren't about to get caught in that trap. They (and the government) remember the lessons of Oka and Ipperwash all too well. Inevitably, the government bought the land, reimbursed the developers, and then, for good measure, shelled out compensation to inconvenienced local residents. The government is hoping it can buy peace. At that rate, peace could get expensive, as the Six Nations' total claims cover a good chunk of southern Ontario.
The 1990 standoff over Oka, which produced that iconic image of two warriors -- one a native, one a soldier -- facing off, was a galvanizing moment for many young natives. Taiaiake was working for the band council there at the time. "Oka pretty much demonstrated to me that the way to achieve change was not to negotiate it," he says. "It left a lasting impression on me."
Unlike the ragtag protesters at Oka, many of them with criminal records, the young protesters at Caledonia are educated, employable, articulate, and well-versed in their rights. For that, you can thank people such as Dawn Martin-Hill (Mohawk, Wolf Clan). Prof Martin-Hill, who lives on the reserve, is also the director of the Indigenous Studies program at McMaster University in Hamilton, only a few miles away.
The official aim of McMaster's program is to "to increase awareness of indigenous cultures and issues." But the program -- and the faculty who teach it -- are explicitly political, and they actively support the "reclamation" of the land at Caledonia. Like Taiaiake, Prof. Martin-Hill has a very clear-cut view of the world. "If your inheritance was stolen and the government stole it, you have a right to get it back." She has taught more than a thousand students in the past decade, both native and non-native.
Not every native academic is as rejectionist as these two. They are Mohawks, and the Mohawks have always claimed to be a sovereign nation. (Neither of them votes, because Canada is not their country.) But their narrative of oppression has a familiar ring. It is repeated ad nauseam on campuses across the nation, in social science courses, anthropology courses, women's studies courses, and anywhere with courses in ethnic studies or globalization. Eurocentric white civilization is the colonial oppressor. It has exploited its dark-skinned victims around the world by means of global capitalism. (The word "genocide" usually figures in this narrative.) Only by throwing off the white man's chains will its victims be redeemed. Compromise is not an option. As Taiaiake writes in his latest book, Wasase (a word signifying an ancient war ritual), "any accommodation to liberal democracy is a surrender of the very essence of any kind of an Onkwehonwe existence." The irony that his comfortable livelihood is supplied by a liberal democracy probably won't elude you.
Taiaiake's philosophy is heavily indebted to white men such as Chomsky and Foucault. "On a theoretical level, the enemy of our struggle is the noxious mix of monotheistic religiosity, liberal political theory, neoliberal capitalist economics and their supportive theories of racial superiority, and the false assumption of euroamerican cultural superiority," he writes. And there is another theme -- the theme of the inherent superiority of indigenous cultures, in which people are at one with the land and societies are egalitarian. "The ideals of peace, respect, harmony and coexistence," we are told, "are at the heart of Onkwehonwe philosophies."
Indulging in romantic primitivism is bad enough when white people do it. But Taiaiake's version is even worse. The cover of his book features an illustration of a tattooed, feathered warrior that could have come straight from the pages of James Fenimore Cooper. The myth of the noble savage has been resurrected, in academia.
Taiaiake's version of racial essentialism strikes me as -- not to put too fine a point on it -- racist. But then, I'm just a Settler -- a Settler who used to think that a new wave of educated, energetic, forward-looking native youth might begin to leave identity politics behind. How wrong I was.
"I think we have a generation of native leaders emerging who are quite willing to use their assets in a strategic and political way," he says.
"You're going to see this group of young people reassert their nations again."
Home