Decolonization

by Isabelle Jennings

The following is inspired by Eve Tuck’s and K. Wayne Yang’s 2012 paper “Decolonization is not a metaphor” and Carl Wittman’s “A Gay Manifesto”, and will thus be a sort of “Decolonization Manifesto.” Tuck and Yang’s reasoning for writing their paper was the growing trend of "the language of decolonization [being] superficially adopted into education and other social sciences". They noticed that the word decolonization was being thrown around as a theory and lumped in with other forms of resistance that are not working towards decolonization, but rather working towards bettering the systems already in place. This is not an attempt to invalidate the many ways that struggles and resistance intersect, but rather a clear view of the distinctions, which are also important. Our fights may be intertwined, and we are certainly stronger together, but we do not always seek the same results, even if we are asking for similar things. Decolonization would not be an accurate label for every movement against a form of oppression in America. Decolonization does not have any one, agreed-upon definition or manifestation. What I write here may be very contrary to what you or anyone else believes decolonization should look like. To me, decolonization can be nothing but radical. To decolonize means to deconstruct colonialism. It means to remove from the land any systems put there by colonizers. This is a big task, yes. But I believe it is possible. This world has seen revolution before. Because of the radicality of the topic and because I do not wish for this writing to be metaphorical, I have chosen to write a manifesto. Manifestos stem from passion, anger, and a want for change. While I will be discussing the theory and history of decolonization, this is less of a research-focused writing and more of an expression of pain and desire for action.

A Note on Language

In this manifesto, when discussing the Indigenous people of the US, I may use the terms Indian and Native American interchangeably. As the incredible Suzan Harjo once said to Oprah Winfrey: all terms are wrong, all are racist. They were all created by colonizers, and all are generalizing. It would be best to use tribal names to categorize a Native person rather than generalizing them into “Native Americans.” However, as things stand, I find myself needing a term that can stand for all Indigenous people in the US, so, for that purpose, I will still use “Indian” or “Native American.” I believe this speaks both to the importance of a united front and to the truth that Native people in the US have been generalized for centuries and therefore many policies and actions regarding Native people apply to us all. This note is to acknowledge the disconnect here before moving on. Additionally, I would like to acknowledge that writing this manifesto in English is using colonial structures to discuss decolonization, which contradicts my later claim that decolonization cannot be fully realized using colonial structures. [1]

Introduction

We live in a colonized world. We live in a colonizer’s world. The land we live on is oftentimes not our home, but pieces that were stolen from others and then given to us so we’d be out of the way of Manifest Destiny. They wanted us completely out of the way of Manifest Destiny. They tried to eradicate us. When that didn’t work, they tried to assimilate us. Now it’s something in between ignoring and patronizing. They moved us onto reservations, but we still cannot do with that land what we wish, because its resources are owned by private companies. Some of us are federally recognized, which means we are “confirmed Indian” with blood quantum cards and sometimes get scraps of aid. “Everything within a settler colonial society strains to destroy or assimilate the Native in order to disappear them from the land - this is how a society can have multiple simultaneous and conflicting messages about Indigenous peoples, such as all Indians are dead, located in faraway reservations, that contemporary Indigenous people are less indigenous than prior generations, and that all Americans are a “little bit Indian”” (Tuck and Yang, 9). Blatant racism against Native Americans is rampant in the country and yet people constantly claim heritage.[2] Our history, what the European (now-American) settlers did to us, is covered up. “In addition to fabricating historical memory, the [Leatherstocking] Tales serve to generate historical amnesia. The books were published between 1823-1841, at the height of the Jacksonian period with the Indian Removal Act of 1830 and subsequent Trail of Tears 1831-1837. During this time, 46,000 Native Americans were removed from their homelands, opening 25 million acres of land for re-settlement. The Tales are not only silent on Indian Removal but narrate the Indian as vanishing in an earlier time frame, and thus Indigenous people are already dead prior to removal” (Tuck and Yang, 16). We are erased and misconceived. In my schooling, I have met at least 4 peers who have told me that they did not know Native Americans still existed. These are a few of many consequences of colonization, and all aforementioned have been specific to the US. [3] For Indigenous people in America, there is a fight every day to be recognized as a valid member of society while also maintaining your culture. Decolonization means tearing down the systems which keep us in the limbo between sovereign nations and wards. The government and society of America want us to be content with the bits of land we have but do not own; they want us to assimilate into their capitalist day-to-day; they want us to want to be the same as every other citizen; they want us to be quiet. We must be loud if we want to decolonize our world, if we want our homelands back, if we want to be nations separate from our colonizers. The society that resulted from colonialism has no place in a decolonized world. In the following sections, I will attempt to lay out steps towards decolonization through examples—keeping in mind the nuances that come with that discussion—as well as theorizing what the world may look like when it is decolonized. [4]

I. Unraveling or Invention

What form does decolonization take, and can it only take one? Is it direct resistance, opposing structures of colonialism, or is it forming structures completely anew? Can actions still be considered decolonization if they are done through colonial structures?

Many of the current “actions” towards decolonization can only be considered reparation or acknowledgment of history. They are so rooted in colonial structures that I question how we could even consider them “decolonizing”. Federal acknowledgment of sovereignty and land acknowledgments by private institutions or groups is the bare minimum and often distracts from the real lack of action happening. The federal government is inherently colonial, so action by them is more of a metaphorical band-aid that covers up the problems rather than fixing them, which must happen at the root. I believe decolonization must occur outside of colonial structures; otherwise, we are simply redesigning colonialism instead of rejecting it. I don’t think we can truly decolonize by just trying to make current structures a little “kinder” to Indian Country. I think decolonization must be radical. However, I do believe that restoration of power—even power granted by the federal government—to tribes can be helpful as first steps towards decolonization.

In Vine Deloria’s 1988 Custer Died For Your Sins, is a chapter called “A Redefinition of Indian Affairs” in which he discusses movements of many tribes towards federal recognition. Deloria captures how the boldness of one tribe sparked a collective rejuvenation of tribalism. “Indians had been brainwashed into accepting the demise of their tribe as God's natural plan for Indians. Yet the Tiguas plainly demonstrated that Indian tribal society had the strength and internal unity to maintain itself indefinitely within an alien culture” (Deloria, 245). At times, the question has been raised of whether colonization is inevitable. I like the example of the Tigua Indian tribe of Isleta, Texas, who fought for half a century for federal recognition, and in getting it, began a sort of revival. In a way, their actions are a refusal to accept colonization, a refusal to be buried and forgotten. Part of colonization is breaking the spirits of the people the empire is colonizing and genociding. Refusing to be broken and refusing to be assimilated into the colonizer’s society are acts of decolonization. Further, this chapter shows the merit of community and a united front as a step towards decolonization. Deloria mentions the inter-tribal council formed between the Choctaws of Mississippi, the Seminoles and the Miccosukees of Florida, and the Eastern Band of Cherokees of North Carolina. They determined that their common problems outweighed their differences in ideology and the distance that separates them and that their voices and size together would have more power and influence. At this time, “Tribal existence [was] fast becoming the most important value in life [for Indians in America]. Consideration of other ideas [took] second place to tribalism” (Deloria 247). “A new coalition of eastern Indians and urban groups could force a radical change in existing federal policy toward Indian people. These people generally vote more than reservation people. When they organize for political purposes, they will be able to exert more influence than they have at present” (Deloria 251). This chapter revolves around federal recognition, and while I may not believe decolonization should occur through colonial structures, I can recognize the power that came out of this push towards recognition, both in the eyes of the federal government and in the souls of Indian Country.

Laced with sarcasm, Deloria mentions the idea brought forth by anthropologists that somehow connection between the Indian tribes (dubbed “pan-Indianism”) in America would diminish tribal distinctiveness in culture and lead to one Indian identity. In fact, Deloria finds, “Tribal backgrounds are too strong for even an Indian melting pot. ...people...built their organizations on tribal differences” (Deloria 249). Revitalizing culture can be a tool of decolonization because it is an active opposition to assimilation. Reclamation, of heritage, of language, of culture is an act of resistance, is an act of decolonization. It is a separation of oneself or an entire tribe from the norms of colonialism.

On the topic of reclamation, I wish to include an example of decolonization outside of the US. This example from Palestine is a particularly moving inclusion in this manifesto as we are currently bearing witness to the heinous crimes against humanity occurring on the homelands of millions of Palestinians. Vivien Sansour, a Palestinian and the founder of Heirloom Seed Library, is using seeds as a pathway toward decolonization.

Sansour’s search for her people’s history in the land is, in fact, a search for the building blocks suitable for a new future. It is one possible pathway toward Palestinian sovereignty, away from the brutal bargain with the Israeli state, which trades native compliance with settler dominance for incremental privileges that never amount to freedom. While the escape from this sovereignty trap is not obvious, clues for a way forward lie in both the past and the present.

Sansour’s efforts reflect a recent turn among Palestinians, exhausted by the persistent fixation on the state, toward one another. In so doing, they are moving in tandem with other Indigenous communities increasingly engaged in Indigenous resurgence. This is a phenomenon, explains Cherokee political scientist Jeff Corntasssel, that reframes decolonization by turning away from the state to “focus more fully on the complex interrelationships between Indigenous nationhood, place-based relationships, and community centered practices that reinvigorate everyday acts of renewal and regeneration.” This shift does not reject state-centric diplomacy or abandon the struggle against the settler sovereign. A full pivot away from such engagement would be short-sighted and counterproductive, especially for Palestinians who remain forcibly exiled from their lands and barricaded within militarized ghettoes. Rather, Indigenous resurgence centers Indigenous life and governance alongside other approaches. It seeks to undo the alienating force of colonization by reconnecting “homelands, cultures, and communities.” In particular regard to Palestinians, scholars Nour Joudah, Tareq Radi, Dina Omar, and Randa Wahbe explain, resurgence facilitates a “self-recognition” that transforms “fragmentation into a strength” and “variegated experiences of loss” into “a politics of care.

Noura Erakat Revitalizing the relationships between tribes and their homelands is in opposition to the colonial structures which view land only as something to be capitalized upon. Using seeds, “Sansour is trying “to create tenderness on the land where people can see that something else is possible.” So that when Palestinian children visit, “they can find this beautiful Palestine.”” (Erakat). Something else is possible. The point of decolonization is a better future; whatever path it takes, it is for a better future.

II. Regarding the Temporality of Decolonization

When does it happen? What is its temporality? Is it one event or is it a series of actions over time?

Decolonization must be an ongoing series of actions, a repetitive process, rather than one single event. Vine Deloria’s book—which I’ve borrowed from many times in this piece—is from 1988. We've been thinking about, talking about, doing things about decolonization for a long time. It is not recent, it is not right now, it is ever since colonization started. Indigenous activists have been speaking in support of land rematriation, sovereignty, and decolonization since the oppression began, and they have never stopped. Decolonization must be continuous in its importance and repetitive in its action.

III. Violence

Will decolonization ever have public support? Is there a way to decolonize without violence? I think many people would say that violence is not necessary for decolonization, and I would like to believe that, but I don’t know if I do. Decolonization will likely have to be a revolt. It will not be nice or neat or calm. Colonization is violent, it is destructive. Decolonization is not just reversing the roles, it’s about upheaving these violent parts of society and creating anew. I think unfortunately that any violence that would come out of moves towards decolonization would be framed in an isolating and extreme way. Some acts of violence are prompted by decades of occupation and abuse and are seen as terrorism rather than rebellion, especially when it is the “colonized” against the colonizer. Right now, violence is only condoned when it is perpetrated by certain skin tones and certain powers of the world. For example, America killed over 400,000 civilians directly and over 4.5 million civilians indirectly in its “war on terror” response to the terrorist attacks of 9/11 (Savell, Watson Institute). But because it was America, it can be seen as the country “defending” itself, and it’s even framed as America protecting those countries from their oppressive governments (which may have some truth, but killing over 4.5 million people cannot be overlooked, regardless of how they try to sell it). And Israel is currently committing mass genocide, an ethnic cleansing of Palestine, and yet some of the world’s biggest powers (including of course the US) are supporting Israel and claiming the settler state has a “right to defend itself”. Retaliatory violence will only be condoned when it is at the hands of those who rise against empires.

IV. Healing

Can decolonization ever be comprehensive given that the atrocities of colonialism are still felt by us? There is loss that cannot be “fixed”. In this sense, should it be paired with healing, or is healing one of the steps of it, or is healing an after-effect of it? “Since colonization has produced fragmentation and dismemberment at both the material and the psychic levels, the work of decolonization must make room for the deep yearning for wholeness, oftentimes expressed as a yearning to belong, a yearning both material and existential, both psychic and physical, which, when satisfied, can subvert and ultimately displace the pain of dismemberment” (Alexander, 99). Decolonization does not mean erasure, it does not mean that the problems faced are forgotten. I think this quote relates well to the question of whether decolonization can ever be truly comprehensive given the inexorable fact of loss. Decolonization must be more than just physical and outward actions. It must go hand-in-hand with healing. We must not leave ourselves behind in looking to the future or there will be no one left to experience the better world we strove to create.

V. What is the Colonizer’s Role?

Do the descendants of colonizers have a role in decolonization? How does their involvement help propel decolonization as a movement? Should they include themselves or be included? Recently, land acknowledgments and the self-labeling use of “settler” has become

prominent, particularly on social media, which is a hot-spot for performative activism. While these certainly are more than complete ignorance, one must ask whether they really do anything. Tuck and Yang in their paper discuss the need of settlers to be innocent of the crimes of their ancestors and the various ways they go about proving it to themselves. “The easy adoption of decolonization as a metaphor (and nothing else) is a form of this anxiety, because it is a premature attempt at reconciliation. The absorption of decolonization by settler social justice frameworks is one way the settler, disturbed by her own settler status, tries to escape or contain the unbearable searchlight of complicity, of having harmed others just by being one’s self” (Tuck and Yang, 9). Decolonization takes work from both the colonized and the colonizer. From the colonizer, instead of innocence, we need:

Anger at the centuries of mistreatment of the Indigenous people of this country. Guilt about the genocide committed by settlers and the continued discrimination Accountability for the lies and broken promises of the US government.Truth in the teachings of our history and interactions between Indians and Feds Action not only reactive, not idle, not fantastical, real action towards our goals Discomfort about the centuries of dehumanization and the continued racism against us

The process of decolonization is not simple; it is “necessarily unsettling” and “...must involve the repatriation of land simultaneous to the recognition of how land and relations to land have always already been differently understood and enacted; that is, all of the land, and not just symbolically” (Tuck and Yang, 7). Decolonization “ requires everyone to compromise. To give to one another. To restore, to return, to rematriate. To liberate” (Chaparral). Decolonization would benefit more than just Indigenous people. It is not just for us. It requires work from everyone, not only because American Indians are not the most powerful influences, but also because it affects us all.

VI. What Will A Decolonized World Look Like?

Can we say what a decolonized world would look like when we have never seen one? Is it possible to detangle all of the effects of colonialism enough to dismantle them all? It seems quite impossible to imagine a world without colonial structures when we are living in one so saturated by them. Colonialism did not only result in Indigenous peoples losing their lands and human rights. It is also tied to racism, sexism, capitalism, classism, xenophobia, homophobia, and many other forms of discrimination. It is the dream that a decolonized world would be free from these things in addition to Indigenous peoples being the stewards of their homelands and sovereign over their own people. It may seem impossible to remove from our society all colonial structures, given their breadth, but I believe that people are waking up to how intertwined most struggles and dire consequences of imperialism and capitalism are (again, I write from an American perspective).

“For Occupiers to Decolonize” is a blog which works to be a “a resource for those occupiers who want to decolonize” (foroccupierstodecolonize.blogspot.com). In one post about Oakland, California and the Chochenyo Ohlone people, the blogger talks about how their vision of a restored/decolonized Oakland/America is one where the government makes good on their old promises to Indigenous people and restores their land. They “dream of a society that is sustainable, restorative, peaceful” (Chaparral). This piece imagines decolonization of America through processes within some colonial structures rather than just through processes that directly oppose those structures. However, it also talks about how “The liberation of indigenous peoples cannot happen while queers, people of color, women, migrants, the poor continue to be oppressed by colonial-imperial capitalism” (Chaparral). The deconstruction of the many mindsets that were forced upon America during the onset of European settlers helps more than just the Indigenous population here. With as big of an impact as decolonization would have, I hope that a decolonized world would have nations that are less obsessed with being a powerful force, less obsessed with how they look as an empire to other nations. Power of governments wouldn’t be about who has the biggest guns or the most territory. Perhaps the power of nations in relation to each other wouldn’t be of much importance at all. No one can truly know what a decolonized world looks like until it happens. At this point in history, we can only dream. For that reason, I look to artists and poets.

From Anne Waters, “Continents”

out the window open. i hear voices of children screaming, playing, shouting names. antonio. yomi. natalija. physay. elizabeth. anna. leah. kwami.
voices calling forth. children are playing together in the sunset before a
new dawn.

a map lying on my desk locates my place in indigenous america. i do not
know now who plays in china, africa, russia, mexico. in south america, australia, afghanistan, north america or central. i do not know whose voices i
hear. what language or what gifts they bear.
but i hear the children of tomorrow. i hear their voices in australia, in the
americas, in south africa, leading. i hear the voices of indigenous children.
voices i could not hear i am now hearing.
the children are speaking and dreaming a new world. a world of love,
community, passion, respect. no hunger. they are speaking and dreaming
of a world of struggle.
they are speaking and dreaming our future. on all continents in all indigenous homes the children of today are talking our future

CONCLUSION: An Outline of the Path Towards Decolonization

Repatriation of Land
Land must be returned to its original stewards.
Widespread Discomfort
Change comes from discomfort. If not enough people are uncomfortable with colonialism, decolonization will never be fully realized. Especially discomfort from descendants of settlers. Acknowledgment means nothing if the acknowledger does not recognize how wrong what occurred was.
An emphasis on language and cultural revitalization
Strengthening what distinguishes tribes from colonizers and breaking free from the centuries of forced assimilation.
Tribes as Nations
Tribes must no longer be treated as wards of the federal government. Tribes must have the full respect and power of sovereign Nations.
I believe that these steps are necessary for decolonization to truly be realized. These steps must not only be taken by Indians, but also by settlers and by every person that is affected by colonial structures. Perhaps the radicality of decolonization will mean that it is not a peaceful endeavor, but I believe that it is a revolution that is worth working towards and necessary for a society which respects all of its members.

Works Cited

[1] Ngugi wa Thiong’o articulates this point much better in his book Decolonizing the Mind, which focuses on language as a tool of colonialism.

[2] See Vine Deloria’s Custer Died For Your Sins pages 2-4 about the “Indian-grandmother complex.”

[3] Colonization is not exclusive to the US and neither are efforts of decolonization. The US is just what I know best and what I feel most comfortable taking a stance on.

[4] 4 “When” as opposed to “if” may seem hopeful, especially compared to my apparent cynicism about colonial society in the following sections. However, I find it best to stay hopeful, and I do believe decolonization will happen, even if I am not alive to see it. Especially in a manifesto which I have stated comes from a place of anger and passion, I think “when” is a stronger and more engaging word here.

Bibliography

Alexander, M. Jacqui. “Remembering This Bridge, Remembering Ourselves: Yearning, Memory,

and Desire.” This Bridge We Call Home: Radical Visions for Transformation, edited by

Gloria E. Anzaldúa and Analouise Keating, Routledge, 2002, pp. 81–103.
Chaparral. “What Does ‘Decolonize Oakland’ Mean? What Can ‘Decolonize Oakland’ Mean?”

For Occupiers to Decolonize , 12 June 2011, https://foroccupierstodecolonize.blogspot.com/2011/12/what-does-decolonize-oakland-m ean-what.html. Accessed Feb. 2024.

Deloria, Vine. “A Redefinition of Indian Affairs.” Custer Died for Your Sins: An Indian Manifesto, E University of Oklahoma Press, Norman, OK, 1988, pp. 243–267.

Erakat, Noura. “Designing the Future in Palestine.” Boston Review, 3 Jan. 2023, www.bostonreview.net/articles/designing-the-future-in-palestine/.

Goeman, Mishuana R. “Disrupting a Settler- Colonial Grammar of Place.” Theorizing Native Studies, edited by Audra Simpson and Andrea Smith, Duke University Press, Durham, NC, 2014, pp. 235–261.

Savell, S. (2023). (publication). How Death Outlives War. Brown University.
Tuck, Eve, and K. Wayne Yang. “Decolonization Is Not a Metaphor.” Tabula Rasa, no. 38, 1 Apr.

2021, pp. 61–111, https://doi.org/10.25058/20112742.n38.04.
Waters, Anne. “Continents.” This Bridge We Call Home: Radical Visions for Transformation,

edited by Gloria E. Anzaldúa and Analouise Keating, Routledge, 2002, p. 539.