(For the previous post in this series, see here.)
The Illini are a very large collegiate drinking team that occasionally watches team sports and goes to a few classes. They derive their name from the Illinois or Illiniwek Indians, who in the seventeenth century were one of the largest Native confederations in the Great Lakes region. They were still a powerful nation in 1718 when Sabrevois wrote his survey of Midwestern Indians, and thus he devotes several pages of his memoir to them and to their kinsmen, the Miamis (of whom more in the next and last post of this series).
Sabrevois takes us southward
along the west bank of Lake Michigan, passing the Mascouten and Kickapoo
towns "on the bank of a river whose name I have forgotten" (I assume
it's the Milwaukee), en route to the Saint Joseph River. The lieutenant mentions in passing that the Mascoutens' and Kickapoos' customs resemble the Mesquakies' - not surprisingly, they were often
military allies of the Fox Indians – though he adds that they still use bows
and arrows to hunt and that some of their hunters can "run down the stag
afoot" (372). Arriving at the
Saint Joseph River, which he claims was abandoned by its Indian inhabitants
during the Fox War (only temporarily, if so) he notes the valley's excellent soil, abundant
wild birds, and wild grapes. "It is the best region in all that
country." (373) Sabrevois does not suggest that the French colonize the region, instead advising
his superiors to induce the Miamis to return there.
Sabrevois
then hops a short distance westward to the towns of the Illiniwek on the Illinois River, near
the French post of La Roche. They have
about "400 men," translating to 1600-2000 people overall,
in these settlements, and retain many of their old material customs. They use
bows and arrows, wear deerskin clothes and bison robes (as well as garments woven from bison hair), and adorn themselves with elaborate tattoos – "all sorts
of figures and designs" (374). The
lieutenant does mention that they make excellent "powder horns,"
indicating they do have gunpowder and, presumably, firearms, obtained in trade
with the French.
Further
down the Illinois River are the Illiniwek communities of Pimitoui and Cahokia, 50 leagues from La
Roche; 30 leagues further still stands Kaskaskia, the "most prosperous nation among
all the savages," whose people are numerous and
"industrious." The Illiniwek in these communities, or some of them at least, have adopted French customs: they raise French melons and wheat, as well as cattle, pigs, and chickens; have constructed three mills, one of them horse-driven, to produce flour; and many in Kaskaskia have become Christians. Sabrevois is uninterested in Native American women, so we must rely on Sophie White's Wild Frenchmen and Frenchified Indians (U. of Pennsylvania, 2012) and Susan Sleeper-Smith's "Women, Kin, and Catholicism" (Ethnohistory 47 [Spring 2000]: 423-52) to inform us that most of these converts were women married to French traders. They became Christian converts, in many cases, to join themselves to new religious kinship networks (i.e., godparents). They raised their communities' crops and livestock, allowing their French husbands to trade, hunt, smoke, and behave, in short, like Illinois Indian men. Given that Illinois women also wore French textiles and dressed according to a modified European style, we may conclude that photos of University of Illinois women posing as "Princess Illiniwek" while wearing stereotypical Plains Indian garb are perhaps not 100 percent historically accurate.
**
The above image, "Princess Illiniwek (Idelle Stith, Oct. 26, 1943)" is courtesy of the University of Illinois Archives and is used with their kind permission.
A history blog, focusing primarily on the author's research and reading in American (particularly colonial, Revolutionary, and Native American) history.
Monday, April 22, 2013
Monday, April 15, 2013
A Letter to the Class of 1988, from One of Your Future Selves
My high school class is holding its twenty-fifth reunion this summer, and unfortunately, due to a conflict with a professional conference, I will probably not be able to attend. I thought instead I might reflect on the extent to which the world has changed - and not changed - since 1988, and to put my reflections into the form of a letter, slightly snarky and occasionally vague (though easily deciphered by 2013 observers), from my 43-year-old self to all of the seniors with whom I graduated. What mostly emerges from these reflections is a reminder that it is very difficult to predict the future, particularly when it comes to politics. (Technological changes are a little easier to predict.) As Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., asked some years ago, "Who in 1940 would have guessed that the next three presidents after FDR would be an obscure back-bench Missouri senator, a lieutenant colonel in the army, and a Harvard undergraduate?"
Anyway, here's the letter:
**
Anyway, here's the letter:
**
Dear Students of the Class of 1988:
Hello there. It's one
of your classmates, reporting, in a virtual-time-traveling/wishful-thinking sort of way, on the changes that have occurred in the world
since your graduation a quarter-century ago.
While I can't be too precise about the events of the last 25 years (that
would spoil all the surprises for you), I can say that most of what happened in
the world in the 1990s and 2000s was beyond the power of all but
the craziest futurologists to predict.
1) No, we haven't had a nuclear war, nor have we been conquered by
the Soviet Union. Actually, we call it
"Russia" now, and it's smaller than it was in your day.
2) As you might have guessed if you have been following Mr.
Gorbachev's career for the past few years, the Cold War is over. The bankers won.
3) Our current Worldwide Existential Threat is global
warming, which many of you are going to hear about for the first time this
summer (1988). Some people deny it exists. Let me note that summer
temperatures in Australia now reach the 110s and 120s (Fahrenheit),
and the Arctic Ocean is nearly ice-free for part of the year.
4) Japan has not become the world's leading economy. China is going to be taking that role, unless
they poison all of their air and water first.
5) Sub-Saharan Africa was pretty messy in the 1990s, with a
frightening genocide in one country and a war in
another country that has killed over three million people. Currently, though, the continent is experiencing
5 percent annual economic growth, and there's a big amateur film industry in Nigeria,
of all places.
6) Also, South Africa has changed somewhat since 1988. Mostly peacefully, mostly for the better.
7) There is still no cure for AIDS, but we have drugs that
make the disease manageable, and there are subsidies to provide them to poor
people.
8) There is also no cure for cancer, though we have a
vaccine against one common form of it.
9) The American manned space program is dormant at the
moment. There is an International Space
Station but it receives its supply and crew via Russian space craft. On the other hand, we have several robot
cars on Mars.
10) Speaking of outer space, Pluto isn't a planet anymore
(astronomers have relabeled it a "Kuiper object.") To
replace it, we have discovered over 100 planets orbiting other stars. None are Earth-like, but we'll keep looking.
11) Futurologists predicted that one day every American
would have in their home a machine that played TV programs, movies, music, and
games, and acted as a videophone. We now
have such machines – we call them "computers." Perhaps you've heard of them?
12) Okay, maybe you need more explanation. Many if not most
Americans use a communications technology called the
"Internet" to download entertainment and send messages and video
images from their computers. Also from
their "wireless devices." Also
from their "phones." (There are phones today that have 100 times as much computing power as your home
computers.)
13) We don't call them "videophones," by the way; we call them "Skype," after the Estonian technology company that developed the software. Yes, Estonia is a real country.
14) You can probably guess who the next president after
Ronald Reagan is going to be. After him,
the next three presidents will be a) the governor of a Southern state, who will
be impeached for having oral sex in the White House, b) a man who will start a war with a Middle Eastern country because
of daddy issues, c) a 27-year-old who's going to start law school this fall.
15) Ronald Reagan is no longer alive, which should come as
no surprise because he's already 135 years old. Perhaps his most lasting legacy is economic
inequality: in 2010, the top one percent of the U.S. population had six times as much
wealth as the bottom 80 percent.
16) Elvis is still dead. So is his son-in-law, Michael Jackson. No, I'm not making that up.
17) The top-grossing movie of the 1990s will be a film about
the Titanic by a man who currently directs sci-fi action movies. The top-grossing movie of the 2000s will be a
sci-fi action movie about giant blue people, directed by the same guy.
18) Assuming you're reading this in June 1988, the top-selling music album in the United States today is by a British pop singer who is currently one month old.
19) As for our class, we're all (I think) still alive, out
of jail, mostly employed, mostly content.
Life goes on.
Monday, April 01, 2013
Debt: The First 5,000 Years: Conclusions
(For my summary of David Graeber's Debt: The First 5,000 Years, see here.)
Perhaps the most important general theme in Graeber's book is the historic interrelationship between debt, religious obligation, and violence. Graeber describes a very old, if complicated, relationship between violence and debt: indebtedness frequently led to enslavement, the breakup of families, and the redefining of people as things, and indebted merchant-adventurers engaged in violent or morally opprobrious pursuits in order to keep ahead of their own interest payments. Public debt, while it is not much older than the modern nation-state, is similarly linked to state violence: the nation-state created public debt to finance its war machine, and the modern state that cannot cheaply borrow money is one which cannot defend itself. Conversely, however, the modern state with lots of military bases and nuclear weapons can usually “persuade” its creditors to keep the money spigot open.*
Perhaps the most important general theme in Graeber's book is the historic interrelationship between debt, religious obligation, and violence. Graeber describes a very old, if complicated, relationship between violence and debt: indebtedness frequently led to enslavement, the breakup of families, and the redefining of people as things, and indebted merchant-adventurers engaged in violent or morally opprobrious pursuits in order to keep ahead of their own interest payments. Public debt, while it is not much older than the modern nation-state, is similarly linked to state violence: the nation-state created public debt to finance its war machine, and the modern state that cannot cheaply borrow money is one which cannot defend itself. Conversely, however, the modern state with lots of military bases and nuclear weapons can usually “persuade” its creditors to keep the money spigot open.*
The relationship between debt and moral obligation, however, has changed repeatedly in the
last 5,000 years; as recently as the Medieval era, several of the
world's largest religions (Buddhists, Muslims, Christians) either
stigmatized debt or downplayed it as a distraction from one's
religious debts. It is only
in the more materialistic early modern era that we (by which I
mean “Westerners and their twentieth-century imitators”) have come to
see human beings as mere bundles of rationalized economic capacities
and interests, and debt and compound interest as engines of positive
progress. The notion that an individual, particularly a wage
laborer, can free him/herself of debt, is even more recent: Graeber
argues it only became possible for large numbers of workers when the governments of
industrializing countries enlarged their money supply in the 1800s.** Westerners subsequently began to assume that individuals could
free themselves of debt through hard work and thrift, and that
therefore debtors must be lazy, profligate, and immoral. Since 1970,
however, as wages stagnated and as governments around the world
dismantled progressive tax codes and social safety nets, this idea
has become much harder to sustain. (One of my colleagues continues to defend thriftiness, of a sort, by distinguishing between “bad” debt, like consumer debt, and “good
debt,” like student loans and mortgages. The collapse of the
Western housing market in 2008 and the explosion of high-interest
student loans in the United States makes even this ideological crutch
a rickety one.)
It is past time, Graeber concludes, to
change the way Westerners and other industrializing societies view
private debt. The notion that debtors are immoral rather than
unlucky is quite a recent one, and therefore subject to change.
State-sponsored debt relief is an old and morally
well-grounded institution, practiced by governments both
ancient (Sumerian city-states, Egyptian pharaohs) and modern (American state governments in the 1780s), and justified by
several world religions' traditions, like the Jewish
practice of jubilee. It is also a good economic policy: people
crippled by debts they cannot avoid incurring, like medical debt or student loan debt (which American students can only avoid if they
accept the likelihood of long-term unemployment),
cannot become good customers for American businesses.
Perhaps, though, we need to take an
even more radical approach, and question not only the legitimacy of
debt, but the legitimacy of capitalist values. Modern capitalism,
Graeber observes, mandates continual productive growth in order to
allow investors (and workers) to stay ahead of their debts. In
practice, this now means that workers need to slave away at multiple
jobs just to stay financially afloat, societies need to promote the
continual expansion of consumer demand and consumer debt, and
businesses need to exploit their workers and destroy the environment.
Some of us, I think, assume toil, debt, and consumerism are
worthwhile social goods, insofar as they keep the rabble under
control. People who are exhausted by mindless work, held down by
debt, and drugged by television and junk food are less likely to
cause trouble for the ruling class. (George Orwell made these
observations, substituting radio for television, in Down and Out
in Paris and London and The Road to Wigan Pier.) But not
all of us agree with this, and even if we did we cannot allow businesses to keep damaging the environment unless we aim
at collective suicide.
We must stop, Graeber argues, promoting hard work as our highest socioeconomic good.
Graeber says he'd like us to stop criticizing the “undeserving poor,”
those who produce little but don't do their neighbors much harm. He also argues that it is much more humane, and much more typical of human
societies until very recently, to value leisure and collective
celebration over one's “career.” My own experience is that there
are some people in capitalist countries, like teachers and airline
pilots, who really do like their jobs, but for the
vast majority of workers there is nothing to be gained from extra
effort. Since the 1970s gains in worker productivity have all gone
to the top decile of salary-earners, and even losing one's job
has had much more to do with stupid corporate managerial decisions
than with one's own ineptitude. We should be placing more value on our
relationships and our hobbies, shifting away from a consumerist
lifestyle that turns people into hoarders, and making “I resolve to
do less” a more common workplace slogan. "Better living through laziness" may not have the same ring as "Workers of the world, unite!", but it's likelier to appeal to those of us in the slacker generation, and less likely to kill the planet than seven billion people living by the code of "Root, hog, or die."
__________
* I'm not sure how valid this argument is. The Soviet Union had a huge army and thousands of
nuclear weapons in the 1980s, and yet this didn't stop European banks
from threatening to cut off its credit if Gorbachev tried to suppress
the Eastern European revolt in 1989. The United States' ability to
borrow money cheaply, which Graeber attributes to our being armed to
the teeth, actually has more to do with our large, relatively secure
tax base and the federal government's disinclination, until quite
recently, to default.
** Graeber is incorrect when he attributes industrial-era inflation to deliberate government policy.
Eric Hobsbawm observed (in The Age of Capital, 1848-1875)
that this was instead due to the huge nineteenth-century gold
strikes in California, Australia, and South
Africa. Otherwise the general tendency in industrializing countries
was toward deflation, which would have made life more difficult for
debtors and workers.
__________
(Above image via StrikeDebt Chicago and StrikeDebt Tucson.)
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(Above image via StrikeDebt Chicago and StrikeDebt Tucson.)