[Inspired by two
recent events about which I wrote on Monday, a series on the complex question
of whether and how America should apologize for historic wrongs. Leading up to
a special weekend post where I’ll share some broader thoughts and for which I’m
not at all sorry to ask for your contributions as well!]
Two official
apologies for the oppression of Native Americans, and the distance we have yet
to go.
1)
1993 Congressional resolution on Hawaii: On the
100th anniversary of the illegal occupation and
overthrow of the Kingdom of Hawaii, Congress passed a Joint Resolution acknowledging
and apologizing for those historic wrongs. Compared to the Civil Liberties Act
about which I wrote yesterday, this resolution was explicitly and entirely
toothless, ending with the following Disclaimer: “Nothing in this Joint Resolution
is intended to serve as a settlement of any claims against the United States.” Yet
that weak conclusion notwithstanding, the resolution does include an
impressively detailed account of the many stages through which the U.S.
government and its coroporate allies had oppressed, mistreated, and robbed the
Native Hawaiians and their sovereign leader Queen Liliuokalani. No one who
reads the resolution could fail to understand quite precisely the wrongs done
to the queen and her people, nor (I believe) fail to recognize what we
collectively owe to this native community.
2)
2010 Apology to native peoples: Section 8113 of
the typically gargantuan 2010 Department
of Defense Appropriations Act comprised a striking “Apology to native
peoples of the United States.” The product of nearly
a decade of bipartisan work, this ironically located apology, like the 1993
Joint Resolution, ends with a disclaimer that “Nothing in this section
authorizes or supports any claim against the United States” (what the military
would call a CYA
moment). Covering a much broader range of histories and communites than the
93 resolution, this 2010 apology nonetheless does manage to be impressively layered,
both in its apologies for “official depredations, ill-conceived policies, and
the breaking of covenants,” as well as “many instances of violence,
maltreatment, and neglect,” and in its “commitment to move toward a brighter
future where all the people of this land live reconciled as brothers and
sisters, … in order to bring healing to this land.” Hard to disagree with any
of that!
3)
And yet: Compared to the time-limited history of
Japanese internment, our national mistreatments and oppressions of Native
Americans extend literally back to the
origin points of post-contact America and forward into
our own moment. Both the resolution and the apology note the continued
resonances and effects of these histories, but both—by expressly forbidding the
possibility of reparations and by taking no specific actions beyond the
apologies themselves—do not in any way offer specific visions of what we can do
in the present and future to address those ongoing effects. So while my first instinct
for this paragraph was to note the many
oppressive and genocidal
Native American histories for which we should also apologize—and indeed
such apologies could help raise awareness and understanding of those horrific
histories—I’d say that this is one instance where we can and must also and
especially put our money, our collective resources and efforts, where our apologies
have begun to be.
Next
ApologyStudying tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What do you
think? Responses to this topic and/or broader thoughts on American apologies
for the weekend post are very welcome!
Nice post, Ben! The appropriations debate was indeed the inglorious aftermath to the Civil Liberties Act. Another important aspect is the presidential apology. I like to show my students the videos of Pres. Clinton's apology about Japanese American confinementand Pres. Reagan's apology about Tuskegee. Very different styles, wording, and staging.
ReplyDeleteThanks Heidi! Will add your thoughts to the weekend post.
ReplyDelete