Wednesday, November 26, 2014

The Myth of Thanksgiving

Dunbar-Ortiz is author or editor of seven books, including the recently-released An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States. Shejust wrote the piece “The Myth of Thanksgiving,” which states: “Thanksgiving is the favorite holiday of many U.S. Americans; unlike the rather boring or divisive holidays that honor Columbus, Presidents, Martin Luther King, Jr., Independence, veterans and war, the birth of a religion, and a new year, Thanksgiving is centered on sharing food with family and friends. Individuals and families travel long distances at great expense to be with one another. It might be surprising to learn that the cherished tradition of Thanksgiving is, in fact, the most nationalist of all holidays because it narrates the national origin myth. The traditional meal, as we know, consists of the foods cultivated by Indigenous farmers — corn, squash, pumpkin, sweet potatoes, and turkey.

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“The U.S. origin story of a covenant with God goes back to the Mayflower Compact, the first governing document of the Plymouth Colony. It is named for the ship that carried the hundred or so passengers, half of them religious dissidents, to what is now Cape Cod, Massachusetts, in November 1620. This compact marked the beginning of settler democracy, which from its inception sought the elimination of the Indigenous. Behind the black clothed and solemn ‘Pilgrims,’ was a corporation of shareholders, the Virginia Company, accompanied by armed and seasoned mercenaries on a colonizing project ordered by the English King James. If any local Natives were present at a colonizers’ celebratory meal, they were surely there as servants, and the foods were confiscated, not offered as a gift.

“‘Thanksgiving’ became a named holiday during the Civil War, but neither Pilgrims, nor Indians, nor food, nor the Mayflower — all essential to today’s celebration — were mentioned in Lincoln’s 1863 proclamation.

“It was during the Great Depression that the Thanksgiving holiday was transformed into a nationalistic origin story to bind a chaotic society experiencing economic and social collapse. But this idea of the gift-giving Indian, helping to establish and enrich what would become the United States, is an insidious smoke screen meant to obscure the fact that the very existence of the country is a result of the looting of an entire continent and its resources.

“In 1970, on the 350th anniversary of the English settlers — ‘Pilgrims’ — occupying land of the Wampanoag Nation, the United American Indians of New England led a protest of the Thanksgiving holiday, which they called a ‘National Day of Mourning.’ Every year since that time, the National Day of Mourning has taken place at Plymouth Rock. They rightly accuse the United States government of having invented a myth to cover the reality of colonialism and attempted genocide. By Thanksgiving 1970, Native Americans from many Indigenous nations had been occupying Alcatraz Island for a year. It was the height of renewed Native resistance to U.S. colonial institutions and calls for sovereignty and self-determination, which have continued and seen many victories as well as new obstacles. In 2007, after three decades of Indigenous Peoples’ lobbying, the United Nations General Assembly passed the ‘Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.’

“Thanksgiving needs another transformation, a day to mourn U.S. colonization and attempted genocide and celebrate the survival of Native Nations through their resistance.”


Thanksgiving - 1965

Shall I give thanks? To Whom? For What?
This Mad Chaotic World, its Schizophrenic Society,
Where Affluence Parades and Struts side by side
The Unmitigated Poverty of Stinking Ghettos;
And holy clerks pour the Slime of their Hypocritical Blessings
Over the Horrendous Fetid Mess?
For this Predatory Economy, this Organization of Status,
Where, over-night, Mere Mediocrity is catapulted
Into the Category of Celebrity.
While Genius, disregarded, molds and withers
In some foul and Darksome Garret,
With Millions passing Blunted and Stunted Lives
In the Grind of the Industrial Mill.
The Flower of a Nation's Youth sent forth to Kill
And be Killed on Battlefields Abroad, That Foreign Markets may be Secured, Spheres of Influence Opened,
And the Sources of Raw Material Assured?
For this rat-race, where the Guiding Principles
Are "Dog Eat Dog," and "'The Devil Take the Hindmost"?
For This "Free Enterprise," this All-Absorbing Commercialism,
Which holds Society in its Fell Grip, and Mankind
Hugs to its Breast and Lauds to The Skies, as Something Holy,
Declaring: "This is the Best of All Possible Human Systems
In this the Best of all Possible Worlds."?
For the Lord of the Universe, HOMO SAPIENS,
Who can Circumscribe this Terrestrial Globe Seven to One
To The Earth's Diurnal Revolution, Yet cannot Purify the Atmosphere he has Poisoned,
Nor Cleanse the Life-giving Waters He has Polluted?
FOR THESE I SHOULD GIVE THANKS? If so, again, TO WHOM?
Yet I am Cognizant of Snow capped Mountain Peaks,
The Cathedral Quietude and Cool-Depths of Forest Grove,
The Verdant Stretches of unspoiled Meadows,
The Flora and Fauna of Earth's Wide Open Spaces,
And the Trilling Songs of Unfettered Birds;
The Crystal Rippling Waters of, as yet Untainted Creeks,
And the Glorious Roaring of the Hills' Cascades.
These I can Enjoy, I can Appreciate. Yet, NO THANKS I GIVE.
I can apprehend "Homo Sapiens," of which I am a Unit,
His Insatiable Curiosity, His Inventive Genius,
His Eternal Restlessness and Constant Probing into the Mysteries
Of the Universe;

His History of Toil, of Blood and Tears, "The Agony and the
Ecstasy" of his Long Development;
The Magnificent Temples to the Gods He, Himself, created
And understand His Fervent Supplications to these Gods of his own
Creation for Deliverance from the Hells of His Own Manufacture;
His Positive Accomplishment; His Language, Literature, Music,
Sculpture, Paintings, and the Multifarious Arts and Sciences
He Has Developed.
These, too, I can Enjoy, I can Appreciate.
I do NOT Stand Unmoved when listening to the Mighty Strophes
Of a Beethoven Symphony, the Thumping Majesty of a Bach Chorale
The Melodies of a Monteverdi Madrigal, or the Harmonic Tapestries of a Vivaldi Concerto.
These, with Man's GREAT Literature, His Many Arts,
I can Turn to Account for my own Material and Emotional Satisfaction.
For Despite the Chaos and Confusion, the Bestial Exploitation
Of this Modern World and Its Madness, There Abides BEAUTY in Color and in Form.
Appreciating, withal, the Beauty of This Earth,
Man's Instinct of Workmanship, His Creative Powers,
And His Vast Artistic Works, still, NO THANKS I GIVE.
But Appreciating ALL THIS, to a much Greater Degree I Appreciate the Companionship of COMRADES IN REVOLT.
And Yet, NOT GIVING THANKS, I Appreciate, Above All Else.
A Friend and Comrade Such As YOU

W. A. PRITCHARD
Socialist Party of Canada



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