Anti-colonial Solidarity with Teeth
Earlier this week, this image, by Métis artist and scholar Dylan Miner, exploded on my instagram feed (The phrase was also circulated by Diné artist and scholar Melanie Yazzie, and probably others). It is a beautiful map of what is now known to be the U.S., but has always been and still is Indigenous land. Land stolen and dispossessed from the over 500 Indigenous nations that span Turtle Island. It’s a rejection of the validity of the settler state on occupied Indigenous territories and a fierce decry of the Trump Administration’s violent nationalism and Islamophobic/xenophobic policies that ban refugees and other migrants from entering the U.S. It is an assertion of Indigenous sovereignty and governance. An inherent sovereignty that pre-exists the U.S.
I want to ask the many non-Native folks who shared this image — what this statement means to us. And perhaps more importantly, What it asks of us.
What is settler colonialism? In “The Future is Indigenous: Decolonizing Thanksgiving,” Maile Arvin defines it this way: “Settler colonialism is the social, political and economic system that Europeans brought with them to this continent that turns land into profit, dispossessing Native peoples from the land through forced removals, military massacres, genocide, sterilization and forced assimilation (among other tactics). Indigenous people have long recognized that this is an ongoing process, not one discretely contained within a historical period. Settler colonialism requires an ongoing violence against Native American people. Many narratives obscure this by speaking of this violence as occurring in the distant past.”
I’m glad that the words and image above lit up my screen this week. That more and more, in the wake of the Native-led resistance at Oceti Sakowin Camp and Indigenous resurgence/uprising throughout North America and beyond, many non-Native folks are grappling with what accountability to Native peoples might look like. The world has watched as the armed, militarized U.S. state meets water protectors with repression and brute force.
Our anti-colonial solidarity with Indigenous peoples must have teeth, also. Here, I outline some of what a more robust solidarity could look like, as I understand such asks from Indigenous leaders, organizers, and scholars. I am no expert, I am imperfect, this is not a call out. It is an invitation for other non-Native Left/social justice/social movement folks to think together about how to channel our awareness about Indigenous struggles into meaningful accomplice-ship.
Yes, let’s keep amplifying the art and messaging of Indigenous leaders. And, as with anything, let’s not allow it to become a soundbite. Over the years, I have seen Indigenous issues consistently dismissed as niche, quaint, not political (only spiritual), not relevant to other justice struggles, etc. I see anti-colonial thinkers dismissed for being impractical and naive. Native struggles can be seen as less urgent, as existing only in the past, effecting a small number of people, or isolated reservation issues. I grew up and live on stolen, unceded, occupied, ancestral Miwok and Ohlone territories. There is currently a fight to protect a 5,500 year old sacred site and burial ground. Here. This is urgent. (Are you in the Bay Area too? See end of post for ways to support and remember to pay your Shuumi Land Tax). A generous reviewer of this essay reminded me that it is life and imminent death for Native peoples too. That the struggle over land sometimes seems to overshadow the struggle for life, though of course they’re interrelated.
I came up in multiracial anti-imperialist, anti-capitalist anti-racist, prison abolitionist circles. Indigenous struggles were rarely mentioned. Colonialism was either understood as a “legacy,” or collapsed with U.S. imperialism and colonialism “elsewhere,” rather than a persistent, ongoing, historically present yet incomplete project “at home.” There are likely many reasons for this. I believe that a rigorous appraisal of ongoing settler colonialism and solidarity/accomplice-ship with Indigenous peoples is necessary for our survival on this planet. And as with all struggles for justice, is work that connects me to my humanity.
The following list addresses some of the myths and pitfalls I have seen circulate. Again, this is not meant to be a call-out or exercise in critique, it’s meant to be an invitation to put our talk (or our insta-feed) into practice and participate in building a livable future for this planet and its inhabitants.
- All land is Native land. Whether you live in or are from areas that are now known as New England, Tennessee, Illinois, Idaho, Los Angeles, Kansas, Miami, or New Hampshire. Sometimes the Plains and Southwest are exceptionalized. All land is Indigenous land. Learn about the history and current struggles facing of Indigenous peoples where you live, which can be difficult because of genocide, displacement, and forced relocation.
- “Who are you calling a settler? My grandparents fled persecution.” I hear white people saying this a lot! While it is true that settlers sometimes migrated to the U.S. to escape violence or poverty in their homelands, we — especially though not exclusively white people — benefit directly from the dispossession of Indigenous peoples. This is not a choice or matter of morals or political beliefs, it is a fact.
- We are not a nation of immigrants. As many have pointed out, this erases Black people whose ancestors were brought here forcibly under conditions of chattel slavery, in addition to Native peoples. Determining which non-Native people are settlers is complicated & fraught because of different forms of dispossession, and the fact that many people (including Indigenous people) have been displaced from their own homelands because of U.S. imperialism.
- “What are we supposed to do, move back to Europe?” From what I understand, this is not the ask (if it may be the dream!). Indigenous sovereignty is not predicated on this.
- Which gets to: “I’m worried that if Native governance is restored, I will lose rights, land, property, the freedom of movement or speech.” As a settler, I can’t say what a decolonized future will look like. Or that it will be easy. But, I believe that relations among all people and the planet will be more livable for all when the sovereignty of peoples who have been guardians and stewards of this land for tens of thousands of years is fully restored.
- “It’s just not practical.” Wait, what? Let’s refuse being practical. Why should the horizon of our freedom dreams (a term from Black studies scholar Robin D. G. Kelley) remain within the purview of this terrible settler state that we agree is founded on and sustained by anti-Blackness, slavery and its afterlife, Indigenous dispossession, and other projects of colonial, capitalist, and imperial accumulation?
- Territorial acknowledgements — While this is an important practice at events or gatherings, ask if your group is in relationship with Native peoples whose land you are on. While this will not be relevant for every context (Native nations, protocols, etc. vary), this panel, Making Coast Salish Territorial Acknowledgements Matter, is useful for thinking through making land acknowledgements matter. In her blog post, “Extending the Call and Response to Progressive Allies,” Lenape scholar Joanne Barker poses a number of questions for non-Native people to begin to reflect on the relationship to the land on which they reside.
So, what do we do? I believe in study. I think it is crucial to read the theory, political thought, and visions of Indigenous peoples. While material support is necessary, we must also learn to locate ourselves as settlers in relationship to settler colonialism and anti-colonial struggle for the long haul.
Whatever work we do — prison abolition, housing rights, queer and trans organizing, disability justice, environmental justice — we can make sure our work chips away at the settler state and participates in anti-colonial solidarity. With teeth. Because everything in our society is structured by settler colonialism. This does not take away from my/our commitments to dismantling white supremacy & heteropatriarchy. Commitments to queer and trans liberation. But it does strengthen the connections we will have to make in order for this empire to fall.
Not all Native Nations are the same. Not all Indigenous people have the same beliefs or politics. Indian law and policy is complicated. This is not a simple formula. I reside on the territories of peoples who are not federally recognized and who live in an urban area with no land base. Other contexts have an entirely different set of circumstances, protocols, politics, challenges, and opportunities. Learn what works best for communities whose land you are on.
Settler colonialism and genocide in what are now US borders are structural and ongoing. Let’s support fierce Indigenous futures — everyday. Thankful for all I continue to learn from Indigenous people about the context of my own life on this continent.
I would specifically like to thank Laura Beebe, Mishuana Goeman, and Magie Ramírez de Baldi for their very generous feedback.
Protect the West Berkeley Shellmound
- Learn more about the fight to protect the West Berkeley Shellmound from further desecration.
- Write a letter to the City of Berkeley Zoning and Adjustments Board by February 9th. This is urgent! Talking points and draft letters can be found on the facebook group. Join to get updates!
- Donate. Legal fees are expensive; please donate generously as you are able.
- Attend the final Zoning and Adjustments Board on February 9th at 7pm at the Berkeley City Council chamber, 2134 Martin Luther King, Jr. Way, 2nd floor. Let’s pack the house!
Live in the greater Bay Area? Make sure you’re paying your Shuumi Land Tax to support the Sogorea Te’ Land Trust — the first urban Indigenous women-led land trust.
Some Reading & Resources
“Decolonizing Feminism: Challenging Connections between Settler Colonialism and Heteropatriarchy,” by Maile Arvin, Eve Tuck, and Angie Morrill.
“The Future Is Indigenous: Decolonizing Thanksgiving,” by Maile Arvin
“Decolonization is not a Metaphor,” by Eve Tuck and K. Wayne Yang
Decolonzation: Indigeneity, Education, and Society
So much more…
Books
What Does Justice Look Like? : The Struggle For Liberation In Dakota Homeland, Waziyatawin.
Bad Indians: A Tribal Memoir, by Deborah Miranda
Queer Indigenous Studies: Critical Interventions in Theory, Politics, and Literatur, Driskill, Qwo-Li, Chris Finley, Brian Joseph Gilley, and Scott Lauria Morgensen, eds.
Mohawk Interruptus: Political Life Across the Borders of Settler States, by Audra Simpson.
Native Acts: Law, Recognition, and Cultural Authenticity, by Joanne Barker
Sovereignty Matters: Locations of Contestation and Possibility in Indigenous Struggles for Self-Determination, edited by Joanne Barker
Mark My Words: Native Women Mapping Our Nations, by Mishuana Goeman
Spaces between Us: Queer Settler Colonialism and Indigenous Decolonization, by Scott Morgensen
Manifest Manners: Narratives on Postindian Survivance, Gerald Vizenor
Custer Died For Your Sins, Deloria, Vine Jr.
and so many more…
