X Close

Why Native Americans don’t vote Presidential races mean nothing on the reservation

He just wants to be left alone (Bettmann / Contributor via Getty)

He just wants to be left alone (Bettmann / Contributor via Getty)


October 23, 2024   7 mins

If voting is sacred, nobody told Ross John. “I’m not a voter in state and federal elections,” the 68-year-old businessman and Seneca nation citizen tells me, “because I’m not a US citizen.” Technically, John is an American. But his reaction to the Native American “Voting is Sacred” campaign is telling. For if American politics has become thoroughly national — 70% claim to have thought “a lot” about Kamala Harris or Donald Trump, even as a third can’t identify their own state governor — the issues, especially for indigenous Americans like John, remain defiantly local. 

The 2024 presidential race is one that will be decided at the margins. Democrats hope the Voting is Sacred mantra will produce a reprise of the 2020 Native American vote. Four years ago, a surge in Navajo and Hopi turnout proved the difference in Biden’s 10,000 vote victory in Arizona. In the Midwest, Menominee and Ojibwe voters proved decisive in Wisconsin, a contest ultimately decided by just 20,000 ballots. 

Yet if Voting is Sacred is a national effort aimed at the broad indigenous public, they in fact represent a kaleidoscope of lifestyles. All told, there are some 9.7 million Native Americans and Alaskans, scattered across some 573 federally recognised groups. Like John, some have built their homes in the country. Yet from Anchorage to Phoenix, 70% live in cities. Like John, meanwhile, about a quarter live on reservations or tribal trust lands, while the rest make their way independently. 

Given this spread, at any rate, native priorities are as varied as anywhere else in America, from casinos in New York to buffalo rights in Montana. Beyond that, Native Americans differ in one more vital respect: their power. A century on from the law that finally gave them citizenship, they’re now of course equal before the law. But if the Navajo can leverage their swing-state location, and tribes elsewhere have grown adept at encouraging strategic voting to achieve their goals, men like Ross John seem condemned by geography.

Native Americans, after all, are not just any other interest group. Expelled from much of their ancestral lands, tribal groups possess sovereignty and rights guaranteed by federal treaties. Yet as a dispersed people, they lack concentrated electoral power. And if Voting is Sacred is a strategy to give the indigenous vote some heft, in presidential politics at least, centuries of broken promises mean many aren’t sure politics can help.

Ross John has lived his whole life in far southwestern New York. Amid the Alleghenies’ towering sugar maples, and the crumbling barns with their flecks of red paint, he’s one of 8,000 Seneca here, scattered across a pair of non-contiguous communities. In John’s Cattaraugus Reservation, the poverty rate is 65%. At the neighbouring Allegany Reservation, it’s 33%, but that’s still markedly higher than many nearby towns.

In nearby Salamanca, a ramshackle New York town of 6,000, just off the Southern Tier Expressway, a high-rise casino dominates the landscape. Salamanca offers legal pot, shabby gas stations for tax-free gas and cigarettes — and gambling. A dingy tourist trap with random signage in the Seneca language, it’s become a symbol of native struggles.

No wonder John threw himself into politics, serving 14 years on the tribal council. Yet despite seeing tribal sovereignty as the alpha and omega of local politics by treaty, the Seneca is an independent nation distinct from the US John was ultimately disappointed by his time in office. The basic problem, he explains, was the disdain of outsiders. “I wasn’t very successful at changing tribal politics,” he says. “There are just too many federal guidelines.” 

John Kane, a Mohawk who lives in Seneca territory, has similar complaints. “The Seneca pay 50% of their gaming revenue [to New York] to buy exclusivity that they don’t need,” laments the host of the Resistance Radio show. Problems started back in 2002, when the Seneca opened the first of three New York state casinos, all owned by Native Americans. To do this, Albany forced an agreement that has the Seneca pay the state one-quarter of all slot machine revenues. The Seneca, for their part, pay all operating expenses out of their share, which translates to a 50/50 split in profits with the state.

All told, the Seneca paid $1.4 billion to New York State between 2002-17. But Kane wonders what the tribe got in return. In 2002, the same year that the tribe opened their casino, the state constitution banned all gambling. In 2013, voters amended it to allow Las Vegas-style gaming. So $1.4 billion paid for an “exclusivity” that was already barred by law but is now allowed. Explaining all this, Kane sighs: “You can’t make this shit up.” In 2017, the Seneca quit their payments. To this day, the tribe and state remain locked in a legal battle. Unlike John, Kane doesn’t renounce his citizenship, but he’s nonetheless cynical about the Voting is Sacred movement. “The idea that we are a determinative voting bloc is blown out of proportion,” he says. “We just want to be left alone.”

Not everyone is so jaded. Unlike Kane, Tracie Garfield embraces Voting is Sacred. The Fort Peck Tribe member lives in Montana, where 6% of voting-age citizens are Native American. In 2006 and 2012, the native vote helped the Senate Democrat, Jon Tester, to narrow victories. For 2024, the communications director for her state’s Western Native Voice campaign has been running voter registration drives right across Montana. 

This time round, though, Garfield sees lots of voter fatigue. “I don’t see a lot of excitement.” What she senses in Montana is a national issue. Only 66% of voting-age Native Americans are even registered, a problem with deep roots. Native Americans were denied the right to cast their ballots until 1924, when Congress finally passed the Indian Citizenship Act. Even then, several Western states held out until the Fifties. 

“Native Americans were denied the right to cast their ballots until 1924. Even then, several Western states held out until the Fifties.”

As Garfield puts it: “We have to start from scratch, since most Natives are only in the second generation of voting.” That dovetails with other challenges. In Big Sky Country, a trip to the polling station can be a 100-mile round trip. And even once they arrive at the county seat, Garfield warns that would-be voters sometimes feel intimidated being the only native in town. 

Though the situation isn’t hopeless. One solution, Garfield suggests, is to turn voting into a tradition, like community bingo or a family dinner, something she believes will help Native Americans become enthused by politics. “As a tribal people,” she says, “we respect our elders. If we get families to vote together then that is our goal.”  

Yet more than the tangle of history, or the lure of custom, you get the sense that native electoral enthusiasm can ultimately be understood as a function of political heft. If, after all, John and the Seneca are understandably pessimistic in New York, a Democratic stronghold that anyway cleansed most of its indigenous population in the early 19th century, tribes further west have far more sway. 

Montana, with its 6% tribal bloc, is one thing. But that’s nothing compared to Oklahoma, where Native Americans comprise 13.4% of the population, and where low turnout generally bolsters their collective influence still further. “I am optimistic,” says Ben Barnes, Chief of the Shawnee in the Sooner State. “Native Americans can really make a dent. If we turnout, we can make a difference.” 

More to the point, numerical muscle seems to translate to real-world excitement. In conjunction with the United Indian Nations of Oklahoma group, Barnes has promoted a new turnout initiative. Known as Warrior Up to Vote, it’s already registered hundreds of new native voters right across the state.

And if that speaks, yet again, to the wildly diverse opportunities for Native Americans across the country, something similar might be said of what indigenous voters actually want. Liberals often imagine that the Native American vote is staunchly Democratic. But a 2021 report shows that indigenous voters lean Left by just 11%. That’s echoed by schisms elsewhere. As Garfield emphasises, Montana alone has 12 recognised tribes, each with distinct priorities. The Crow, for instance, exploit their coal and oil reserves, while neighbouring Blackfeet push environmental protections for their “buffalo brothers”.

Demographic discrepancies also affect how Native Americans make their voices heard. In swing states such as Wisconsin, the Ojibwe can appeal to national politicians when state and local authorities ignore them. In 2020, the Ojibwe, who were hit hard by Covid, voted for Biden to keep reservation health restrictions intact. Presidential candidates sometimes even come to them: in September, Donald Trump promised to formally recognise the Lumbee, a tribe in the crucial battleground of North Carolina. 

Interest from the big guns is harder to muster in Oklahoma, a one-party state where Trump has little to gain by playing nice. Yet the demographic power of natives in the Sooner State still matters — it’s just that leaders like Barnes need to be more subtle about exploiting their influence.

One tactic involves educating legislators on native concerns, especially that all-important issue of tribal sovereignty. “I find that in Oklahoma not every legislator or senator understands,” Barnes explains. “We have to vote for a Republican or Democrat that understands Indians are sovereign.” Another option is simply backing native candidates: Markwayne Mullin, Oklahoma’s junior senator, is both a fervent Trump supporter and a Cherokee.

“Don’t vote R, don’t vote D, vote I for Indian,” is how Barnes evocatively describes this approach — and certainly it’s one that’s bearing fruit. On Capitol Hill in Washington, the head of the House Appropriations Committee is Tom Cole, a conservative Oklahoma congressman. More importantly, he’s also an enrolled member of the Chickasaw nation, one with an intimate knowledge of Native American affairs. “How great is it,” Barnes says, “that we don’t have to explain why funding is necessary?” 

This comprehensive plan has borne fruit: Cole is now sponsoring a landmark bill to investigate the horrors of Indian Boarding Schools. Not that Barnes and other Native Americans are exclusively putting their hopes on one side of the House. Cole also liaises closely on tribal concerns with Sharice Davids, a liberal Ho-Chunk congresswoman from Kansas. Barnes, for his part, is full of praise for this political odd couple. “How refreshing is that?” 

Despite these regional successes, and notwithstanding the gaggle of federal treaties impinging on indigenous groups, Barnes still argues that elections in “the tribal races” are most important for voters like him. It’s a point echoed elsewhere. For Cynthia LaMere, the former vice-chair of the Nebraska Democratic Party and member of the Yankton-Sioux, elections at the community level, in the reservation or tribal trust, are just more “tangible”. Considering the bewildering range of native concerns, that’s surely unsurprising, especially when the lowest rung of electoral politics is the arena where schools are run and casinos managed.

But where does that leave people like Ross John, flailing between an aggressive and sceptical state government on the one hand and indifferent Congressional legislators on the other? For Stephen Knott, that strikes at the heart of the issue. As the emeritus professor at the US Naval War College says, Newt Gingrich “nationalised” every congressional race in the land way back in 1994. But if the media now obsesses endlessly about the antics on Capitol Hill, 536 federal officeholders still pale compared to the 500,000 elected officials nationwide. “It is a schizophrenic arrangement,” John admits of his native Seneca. “And we have to live with it.”


Jeff Bloodworth is a writer and professor of American political history at Gannon University

jhueybloodworth

Join the discussion


Join like minded readers that support our journalism by becoming a paid subscriber


To join the discussion in the comments, become a paid subscriber.

Join like minded readers that support our journalism, read unlimited articles and enjoy other subscriber-only benefits.

Subscribe
Subscribe
Notify of
guest

28 Comments
Most Voted
Newest Oldest
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
0 01
0 01
2 days ago

In other words, they’re just like any other American, just with slight differences do to their history. They know for a fact that politics is basically one big grift and nothing ever really changes regardless of who’s in charge, and that applies to both parties. That the government doesn’t really care about them despite the fact that it’s supposed to exist for their benefit, and it’s largely unresponsive towards them only in the best of times it’s just pandering to them out of self-interest. They at least have the benefit of having some autonomy that could allow them to throw off the excesses of an uncaring government and achieve meaningful progress for their people, but unfortunately they’re too overly dependent upon the government to really genuinely assert it in any way hugely meaningful, and their politicians and other elites having co-opted by the system, Just like what’s happening in the rest of America. They at least have excellent reasons to understand all this do to their history. Race in America is nothing more than a distraction and used by those in power to divide us against one another who have more in common than they want us to think.

Last edited 2 days ago by 0 01
Carlos Danger
Carlos Danger
2 days ago

Interesting article. I don’t know much about the American Indians in the East and Midwest. But decades ago just out of law school I was a law clerk for a year for a federal district court judge in Utah. The name Utah comes from the Ute Indian tribes, who mainly live on reservations in the eastern part of the state by the Uintah Mountains (the only east-west mountain chain in the Rocky Mountains, which otherwise go north-south from Canada all the way through the US almost to Mexico). Some Navajo and other Indians also live in the Four Corners area in the southeastern part of the state where Utah, Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona all meet.
Very few Indians lived in Salt Lake City where the federal court sat. But the more serious crimes on reservations were tried in federal court: murder, rape, assault. (Other crimes were tried in state or tribal courts.) The federal courts also decided disputes between the tribes and the federal government, of which there were many.
So the judge I worked for heard quite a few Indian cases, and working on them for him opened my eyes to a world I didn’t know existed. One thing that still stands out to me was the problem with Indians and alcohol.
One young man in his 20s was charged with murder for killing his uncle with a shovel. The young man had gotten drunk and was passed out in a shed. His aunt sent his uncle to bring him in to get some lunch. The young man was angry at being disturbed so he smashed his uncle’s head in, then just laid down and slept again.
The young man had brain damage from drinking poor-quality booze. At that time at least, alcohol was banned from the reservation and could not be sold in nearby towns. So stores would stock cleaning products that had alcohol in them, all lined up on the shelves like liquor bottles. Some Indians would buy those, and drinking that stuff would do a number on them.
Another case that I remember was a dispute between a tribe and the Bureau of Indian Affairs over who was considered a member of the tribe — the so-called blood quantum requirement. The tribe wanted a loose requirement, to increase its numbers and strengthen its communities. The BIA wanted tighter requirements to limit tribal membership and resources.
The judge I worked for ruled for the tribe. He said the tribe can decide its own membership, as a sovereign nation. The BIA arguments were not outrageous; there was some reason to them. But the judge did not like the paternalistic attitude of the federal government, and his decision was adamant.
Things have gotten better since then. The US Department of the Interior is now run by Deb Haaland, a Laguna Pueblo Indian, and the BIA (a bureau within Interior) is run by a Grand Ronde Indian, Bryan Mercier. With American Indians at the helm, it’s hard to argue that these agencies are as paternalistic to Indians as they were.
Since that time I’ve had occasional contact with Indian tribes. One thing that I noticed with the Utah Indians I have talked to is that they didn’t like the term Native Americans. They preferred to be called Ute Indians, or a more specific tribe like Northern Ute Indian. The University of Utah mascot remains a Ute Indian, with tribal permission and even encouragement. Not like the Washington Redskins, err, Commanders (thanks, grifters).
My impression is that things have improved for Utah’s Indians, though troubles still remain. At least there seem to be fewer disputes in the federal courts over tribal rights. Just don’t try to celebrate Columbus Day, and Indians and non-Indians seem on the same page.
Sadly, elsewhere I have seen some grifters are spoiling things. Like US senator Elizabeth Warren, who apparently to this day falsely thinks she is a Cherokee Indian. And all the other people in Oklahoma who make dubious claims of Indian ancestry (usually Cherokee) to get an “Indian card” and access to healthcare and other tribal benefits.
And I now live just south of San Francisco on the peninsula where an Indian tribe who lived here went extinct more than 100 years ago. Two grifters with some Indian ancestry in other tribes now play on the liberals here to get rights to some park and other land that they patently don’t deserve. With some success. Even the small city I live in now opens its City Council meetings with a lengthy “Land Acknowledgment” paean to long-dead people they really don’t care a whit about. It’s just silly.

Last edited 2 days ago by Carlos Danger
blue 0
blue 0
2 days ago
Reply to  Carlos Danger

The Cherokee and Choctow in Oklahoma you do not need to show a percentage but you must prove lineage. Which is how I obtained my “dubious claim” My Grandmother was half Cherokee, my Grandfather was Snohomish.

Carlos Danger
Carlos Danger
2 days ago
Reply to  blue 0

Yes, I should have noted that there are many valid claims to American Indian ancestry. But there are also quite a few like Elizabeth Warren from Oklahoma who pretend such a claim, without evidence, in order to gain benefits. At least so I have heard from relatives in Broken Arrow.

Last edited 1 day ago by Carlos Danger
Eamonn Toland
Eamonn Toland
2 days ago
Reply to  Carlos Danger

I think one mistake people outside of Indian Country make is to assume that tribes are one homogenous group, instead of a diverse mix of peoples with different cultures and languages, and often with different economic priorities. They can have as little or as much in common as, say, France and Germany. Some tribes have hundreds of thousands of members, others one or two hundred. Casino tribes in California have immense political power at state level, which they use extremely effectively, sometimes in coalition, sometimes in opposition to one another. In other states, not so much.

Philip Hanna
Philip Hanna
2 days ago
Reply to  Carlos Danger

Very interesting, thanks. I was born and raised in Cleveland, and when the Indians became the Guardians, it was a sad day. Even worse, after the fact, I heard from many American Indians that they actually liked the “Indians” name, and felt it was disrespectful to change it to Guardians. Just another example of white people co-opting someone else’s “pain”, without actually checking WITH THE GROUP, to see how the majority feel about it.

laurence scaduto
laurence scaduto
2 days ago
Reply to  Carlos Danger

Very interesting comment. Thanks.
The issues involving modern Indians are permanently wrapped up in the history of hundreds of years ago and modern attempts at putting old things behind us and getting on with life. It’s very hard to get a straight story that’s not being pushed by activists of one sort or another. So I really appreciate your comment.
And Bloodworth’s article, too.

UnHerd Reader
UnHerd Reader
2 days ago

The Siletz tribe has a rez about 20 miles my farm. They also have a casino on the Coast which gives $10,000 a year to every member. To work the casino they fly in somalis to clean toilets and such. The Siletz do not fly them back but let them loose in America.
They have their own police force, but often have to rely on outside help as they seem to have a lot of murders on the rez. Any vehicle abandoned on the highway overnight is burned. They don’t mix much with whites and vice versa.

2 plus 2 equals 4
2 plus 2 equals 4
2 days ago

For if American politics has become thoroughly national — 70% claim to have thought “a lot” about Kamala Harris or Donald Trump, even as a third can’t identify their own state governor 

Not sure this is the gotcha that the author thinks. I’ll bet if you surveyed any Local Authority area in the UK, at least a third wouldn’t be able to name the elected Leader of the Council and probably not their MP either.

Nell Clover
Nell Clover
2 days ago

Most MPs are party political non-entities. They are parachuted into a constituency and have few if any personal achievements that might raise their profile or make them interesting. They typically don’t even live in their constituency and do the bare minimum constituency work. I’m sure US state governors are not dissimilar.

The problem isn’t why voters don’t know their elected representatives in the same way it isn’t the public’s fault for not knowing about brand X. The problem is some of the least engaging, most vacuous, talent-free, achievement-free, uninspiring people now end up on party ballots for public election.

So empty they’re forgettable and so useless we’d rather forget…

Last edited 2 days ago by Nell Clover
Alex Lekas
Alex Lekas
2 days ago

I’m not sure it’s meant as a “gotcha” as much as it reveals how disconnected people are from the govt that allegedly works for them. I have little doubt that your claim about MPs is also true.

Rufus Firefly
Rufus Firefly
2 days ago

Sitting in a truck in Iraq, waiting for something to happen, my friend Pete and I were talking and the subject was a black man on our compound who had a run-in with a local who apparently didn’t like Africans. While musing on this subject I said “You know, the black man has a legit beef with America but, man, the Indians really got screwed.” Unknown to me, Pete was a native and I suppose that bit of conversation indicated I wasn’t a complete idiot. We became good friends and through him I learned a lot about tribal politics and cultural problems. It really is an unknown subject in this country. This was an interesting article, thanks to UnHerd for its publication. On an aside, if you have not watched the film “Wind River” give it a look. Worth your time.

Last edited 2 days ago by Rufus Firefly
Stephen Barnard
Stephen Barnard
2 days ago
Reply to  Rufus Firefly

… Or read Tony Hillerman 🙂

Cho Jinn
Cho Jinn
6 hours ago

Fine recommendation, kimosabe.

Alex Lekas
Alex Lekas
2 days ago

So in the end, one more example of politics as a tribal endeavor, no pun intended.

Thomas Wagner
Thomas Wagner
2 days ago

It should be understood that Indians were not American citizens in the Constitution, but sovereign nations. This was not a polite fiction — they were sovereign, and the new United States didn’t even pretend to govern them. This remained relevant as the new nation expanded westward and encountered more tribes. It was a reality as late as 1863, when President Lincoln presented ceremonial walking sticks to the nineteen Governors (chiefs) of the New Mexico Pueblos. It faded as Indians were herded on to reservations and lost their independence. Acknowledging them as citizens in 1924 was way overdue.

blue 0
blue 0
2 days ago

Surprised Mr. Bloodworth did not discuss the SCOTUS McGirt decision. This was a huge voting factor for the 39 recognized tribes in Oklahoma.

Ex Nihilo
Ex Nihilo
2 days ago

“In John’s Cattaraugus Reservation, the poverty rate is 65%.”

I have lived my entire life in Oklahoma, where just under 50 Native American tribes are located. That experience has taught me many things, not least of which is deep respect for their varied histories and traditions and their right to define them without my help. The high “poverty rates” of tribes is often cited; however, I submit that the very concept of poverty rate is at its core fundamentally a materialistic European ideological construct that should be used cautiously when applied to cultures that cherish a distinctly different value system. My impression is that the predominant view among Native Americans is that it is the European culture itself that suffers from poverty more than their own. Citing “poverty rates” for them implies that, unless Native Americans possess an equivalent amount of material stuff like automobiles, RV’s, and junk from Amazon, they are incapable of realizing their human potential, as defined by people unlike them using metrics not of their design. Too many of the current interventions by government and NGOs vis a vis Native Americans are revised versions of the old cultural condescension that spawned the notion of Anglicizing them as a means of solving their “problems”. Can we be sure that a definition of poverty that derives from a history weighted by Adam Smith and Karl Marx is appropriate when applied to peoples whose culture has a very different sense of what constitutes wealth?

Last edited 2 days ago by Ex Nihilo
Andrew Holmes
Andrew Holmes
2 days ago
Reply to  Ex Nihilo

I’m happy for those Indians who strive to emulate the culture of their ancestors. If in so doing rape, robbery, and homicide are rampant in the areas (reservations) where they are sovereign, I don’t see that the majority culture surrounding them bears any responsibility. Arguing otherwise is to treat Indians as not-so-bright children, not as adults with agency.

Ex Nihilo
Ex Nihilo
1 day ago
Reply to  Andrew Holmes

I completely agree. There are many ironies and paradoxes in the modern relationship between “the majority culture” in the U.S. and Native culture and many unintended consequences of well-meant policies. An example is in granting favored status to Native peoples in hiring, scholarship money, and competitive school admission, etc. The unintended result of that has been an explosion over the last two decades in the number of people who self-designate as “Native American” in the U.S. census, many of whom live entirely as and among whites, have only a very distant and thin ancestral connection and no meaningful understanding of or participation in the heritage they claim. Many, like Senator Elizabeth Warren, make the claims of Native ancestry falsely and profit by the deception. Unfortunately, such deceit has the net effect of diluting the opportunities intended for true Native Americans.

Carlos Danger
Carlos Danger
1 day ago
Reply to  Ex Nihilo

Excellent point. American Indian tribes have their problems, and I don’t mean to idealize them. But I sense that most American Indian tribes (like the Amish) maintain strong, close-knit communities, preserving traditions and values that have diminished in broader society. Their sense of kinship, cultural heritage, and communal support structures stand out in stark contrast to the more individualistic nature of modern life. The emphasis on individual wealth weakens. We could take a lesson from that.

Last edited 1 day ago by Carlos Danger
Andrew
Andrew
1 day ago
Reply to  Ex Nihilo

“Citing “poverty rates” for them implies that, unless Native Americans possess an equivalent amount of material stuff like automobiles, RV’s, and junk from Amazon, they are incapable of realizing their human potential, as defined by people unlike them using metrics not of their design.”

Shouldn’t we know what “poverty level” means in practice, in RL, before we criticize it? Does it mean optional purchases, as you assume, or does it mean not enough food? Adequate nutrition? Heat and warmth? If “poverty level” means those kinds of basic qualities necessary to life, then the metric represents universal values, not something imposed by another culture, and the criticism is a straw man.

Ex Nihilo
Ex Nihilo
1 day ago
Reply to  Andrew

“Poverty Level” as defined by any western country is not a metric connected to assessment of shelter or nutrition. It is an arbitrary number based upon a percentage of income and is the product of a way of thinking that derives from academic, economic, and political systems that are thoroughly Western. My reference to the types of consumer spending you challenge are both a rhetorical device that illustrates Western materialism and a recognition that the transfer of financial resources to the “poor” often ends up being diverted to non-essentials. I’ve spend a career dealing with the real life needs of the disadvantaged and they too often squander what little they are given on cigarettes, alcohol, drugs, tattoos, piercings, fashion accessories, and pre-prepared foods. The most obese demographic in the U.S. are the poor. Spare me the virtue signaling over “adequate nutrition, heat, and warmth.” If you pry the lid off your closed mind you might consider that my point about the cultural basis of defining poverty is why Western countries never conquer it. We assess and address it in ways that are bound up in our sense of reality. Perhaps, instead of persisting in imposing those values on other cultures in our midst we might allow them to inform us for a change.

Andrew
Andrew
23 hours ago
Reply to  Ex Nihilo

Whoa whoa whoa. You’re reading into my comment and question what is not actually there. It’s okay to suspect that it’s there, but all you have to do is ask for clarification of intent.

The same thing happened in a previous exchange, when you claimed that “your anti-capitalist stance clearly underpins your arguments” when I’d not stated or even implied anything like it.

This was, and is, my intent: I am trying to understand something. What I wrote was an attempt to better understand what the poverty rate really means. If person can’t ask a question, maybe even a naive question, then what’s the point?

I’m not trying to signal my virtue here — I don’t think I have virtue to signal in this regard. And my mind isn’t closed, which is why I sought to learn more by asking the question.

You said “Citing ‘poverty rates’ for them implies that, unless Native Americans possess an equivalent amount of material stuff… they are incapable of realizing their human potential, as defined by people unlike them using metrics not of their design.”

What I wanted to clarify was whether those rates really imply what you say.

Many times I’ve read and heard Indigenous people speak of the terrible poverty on reserves, and referencing their level of poverty compared to the rest of the country. They speak about food insecurity, unmet health needs — the basics.

Does the poverty level really mean possessing a bunch of stuff from Amazon? Why do you think that? Maybe it’s worth looking at a few sources to see what’s behind the numbers. Is asking these things a trigger?

Last edited 22 hours ago by Andrew
Ex Nihilo
Ex Nihilo
1 hour ago
Reply to  Andrew

You are missing the point, equivocating terms, refusing to accept that “poverty” is itself a relative term that is culturally dependent, using moralistic snark and then pretending to only want clarification. I am sharing a viewpoint based upon a unique “hands on” personal experience of Native American culture. I’ve looked at more than “a few sources” and know what’s “behind the numbers”. All of the liberal humanist projects to ameliorate the plight of indigenous peoples over the last century have failed miserably both by Western and Native standards, which implies to me that there is room for new fundamentally different ways to look at the situation. To me, that should include granting their distinct cultures the autonomy to define wealth and poverty ON THEIR OWN TERMS. If you don’t approve, feel free to go out and find your own experience to share.

Fafa Fafa
Fafa Fafa
2 days ago

I may be channeling the Great Manitou myself because I also have stopped voting in anything but city elections and propositions. The rest is billionaires’ playground, running the gamut from Musk to Soros. Why waste even a microgram of ink on them.

Warren Trees
Warren Trees
2 days ago

There is only one thing I’m sure of. If Natives voted D, there would voting booths under every teepee on every reservation.

Ex Nihilo
Ex Nihilo
1 day ago
Reply to  Warren Trees

That would only apply (historically) to the Great Plains horse tribes between the Mississippi and the Rocky Mountains. Most tribes never made teepees. Longhouses, wigwams, lodges, chickees, plank houses, igloos, hogans, and pueblos housed more Native Americans than teepees.

Last edited 1 hour ago by Ex Nihilo