We poked last time at the persistent honoring of Lincoln as the “Great Emancipator’. It was ever so slight—a link to the Wikipedia page noting the long ongoing debate about his exact views on slavery, and the questions people have raised about how expansive or deep they really were. Some insist that his actions must speak louder than some of his questionable statements about racial inferiority. Remember, say these supporters: Lincoln waged a war that brought about slavery’s end. To which, having more than a century to evaluate Lincoln’s legacy, I think we can say: indeed, Lincoln knew how to wage war. For during that very war in which he came to be so associated with notions of freedom, he continued the fight in the longest ongoing war in which the U.S. has taken part, the Indian Wars.
There’s a reason Lincoln had ready access to troops who could come and serve in the Union Army: the country already had troops out fighting and guarding territory as the United States continued to violently expand. It was from wars with native nations that Lincoln called many of his soldiers. But even during the Civil War, militaristic repression of Indigenous peoples continued.
You may know about the U.S.-Dakota War of 1862, in which thousands of Dakota people engaged in a six-week offensive over the failure of the U.S. to fulfill its treaty obligations. 1862 should also ring a bell; it’s the same year the Homestead Act was signed, further encouraging White settlers to go and take over land. (The concept wasn’t new; the Homestead Act was more an iteration of the earlier Preemption Act, just making it easier for land parcels to be claimed.) War and expansion were going hand in hand. These included settlers into what had just been named the state of Minnesota. Minnesota’s statehood in 1858 caps off a series of double-dealings by government officials and other parties both with the Dakota, forcing them out of promised reservation land. Individual White settlers began taking over the land even before the questionable 1858 treaty was signed.
The treaty, however, in forcing people to trade off their land, had promised food and other basic supports. Four years later, they were still not receiving such support, and settler encroachment made it even more difficult to subsist. People were starving. So the Dakota sought to gain their land back, driving out White settlers and battling with local military units and militia.
Many Dakota were killed in the fighting. Hundreds more were arrested, some of whom were hung in a military execution without the due process awarded civilians. Lincoln’s signature was required for the hangings to occur, and while he pardoned many (letting them off for engaging in ‘mob violence,’) he personally signed off on the killing of 39 men. While Lincoln was responsible for these pardons (despite public protest against them), the hangings still demonstrated a clear discrepancy in how different rebel factions were treated by the U.S. government. As historian Jon Wiener has written:
“Lincoln’s treatment of defeated Indian rebels against the United States stood in sharp contrast to his treatment of Confederate rebels. He never ordered the executions of any Confederate officials or generals after the Civil War, even though they killed more than 400,000 Union soldiers. The only Confederate executed was the commander of Andersonville Prison—and for what we would call war crimes, not rebellion.”
Following the uprising, backlash against the Dakota continued. In 1863, Minnesota passed the Winnebago removal act, forcing not just the Dakota but many other groups out of the state. Given this, we might call the battle led by the Dakota just another failed rebellion. But the story doesn’t end there, in part because—as with the 1811 German Coast uprising we discussed last week—some are choosing not to forget.
While not a full-out reenactment of the scale of the Slave Rebellion Reenactment project, recent years have seen a ride done in honor of those who were killed, ending in Mankato, MN, where the hangings took place. It’s been called the “38 + 2” ride, for the 38 that were ultimately killed and for the additional two Dakota chiefs who were also executed in the years immediately following the 1862 war.
They don’t end just anywhere in Mankato: the ride stops at Reconciliation Park. Dedicated in 1997, the park remembers what was the largest mass execution in U.S. history and aims to celebrate the spirit of survival of the Dakota while lifting up the potential for reconciliation after a history of great harm.
For those who descend from the men and women who fought back, the meaning is clear. We were not defeated; we are still here. These riders are proof not of failing but of brave persistence.
The annual ride was initiated in 2008, and last year the core body of organizers announced it would be their last one, though many think younger riders may pick up and continue the tradition. From a Minnesota Public Radio piece on last year’s ride:
“Josette Peltier of Flandreau, a Dakota elder and Miller’s sister, says the ride fulfilled her brother’s dream, and she’s seen people change over the years.
“I’ve healed,” Peltier, 69, said. “I’ve gotten a lot of healing from this ride. And, I’m really grateful that my brother had this dream because had I not come on the ride, I don’t think I would have been able to grasp my roots.”
The park isn’t the only way in which residents of what is now known as Minnesota are seeking to come to terms with this history. The Minnesota Historical Society has a website dedicated to the 1862 war, providing an example of how we might begin to understand such history without doubling down into our defensive separate identities in either shame or outrage. It includes ways for residents to research their genealogy and understand the role their own ancestors may have played in what transpired.
This act of remembering has helped built momentum for Land Back efforts in the state. Author and activist Waziyatawin once blocked roads during the state’s sesquicentennial to bring attention to long history of Dakota dispossession; she’s now part of an ambitious land project in the Twin Cities area. Makoce Ikikcupi, meaning Land Recovery, is acquiring land and building houses for Indigenous families with an eye on fuller cultural revitalization. You can read more about that project here at https://makoceikikcupi.com.
Naming a park “Reconciliation” doesn’t mean reconciliation has necessarily taken place. Nor is remembering and honoring the past—either those who suffered or those who fought bravely—a guarantee of healing. But in each of these responses to the difficult history of Mni Sota Makoce, we see the possibility for healing that grounds itself in full remembering.
Thanks for reading Unsettling. More on this theme of rebellion, repair, and remembering coming your way soon.
Until next time,
Meg