Abramoff Scandal Highlights Tribal Vulnerability

The Jack Abramoff scandal in Washington, D.C. is just the tip of a very large iceberg. The lobbyist who stole millions from six Indian tribes by skimming funds from public relations services as kickbacks for himself and former partner Michael Scanlon has essentially been given a slap on the wrist in exchange for ratting on a client list that profited from his influence-peddling schemes. Between 2001 and 2004, he and Scanlon reportedly took more than $82 million of which Abramoff will be required to pay $26 million in restitution and $1.7 million in back taxes.

Already the condemnation is casting a wide circle, making a lot of high profile lawmakers very nervous about being connected in some way with the once popular Abramoff — possibly including already disgraced former House Majority leader Tom De Lay (R-Texas), for whom he once worked as press secretary, and maybe others in the Bush administration. Who knows? In Washington it’s not about who’s connected to whom, but how far you can distance yourself when cornered like a fox in the hen house.

The Indian tribes caught up in this mess are rightfully being cast as unwitting victims in a scam concocted by a racist and unscrupulous crook — who in e-mails called them “monkeys” and “idiots,” according to published reports. But, more than ever they must be more vigilant to such scam artists. There are thieves under every rock who’d love to get their hands on some of that Indian gaming cash.

All that is bad enough, but the scandal also brings up some issues that have been simmering for a long time.

This is an increasingly complicated era in which Indian tribes can no longer expect special treatment from the government or commerce. When Indian gaming became part of the landscape it was hoped that its special status would enable tribes to help create a better life for their members, one free of stereotypical alcoholic, unemployment and poverty stricken obstacles to their advancement and cultural integrity. But Indian gaming itself is not special. It’s still gambling, which is rooted in the ideal of something for nothing. As the old proverb goes: Gambling is the son of avarice and the father of despair.

I’m actually not against gambling and I certainly am in favor of using whatever means are necessary to improve life on the rez. But gaming is an industry that always favors the house, no matter who’s dealing the cards. And, if you’re into the notion of conspiracies, allowing the development of Indian gaming in the first place may have been a quietly deliberate way of further eroding tribal sovereignty, the grand prize jackpot of the government’s plan to finally rid itself of the Indian problem altogether. It already is trying to figure out a way to sweep under the rug millions ripped off in allotment payments, so if sovereignty is eventually traded in for private enterprise on reservations, the whole special trust status might disappear faster than Custer’s hopes for victory.

Sovereignty is the number one issue confronting tribes right now. All else pales in comparison. The environment, crime, health care, poverty, all of it. If tribes cannot do everything in their power to maintain tribal sovereignty, everything, all their land, resources and dignity will be open to exploitation and destruction. Indians, as a people, will cease to exist.

The late New Mexico Indian leaders, Pojoaque Pueblo Gov. Jacob Villareal and Mescalero Apache Tribal Chairman Wendell Chino, worked hard against the state grabbing what it thought was a piece of the gaming pie, thereby exerting their tribe’s sovereign rights to conduct business separate from state or federal interference. It was a laudable precedence, but few tribes in New Mexico were willing to back this notion, even though privately they supported it.

In order to solidify this stance, all tribes, even those in New Mexico, need to develop unassailable democratic governments with elected officials and legislative bodies. They need to educate tribal members in business and sound management policies. They need to fight fire with fire. Abramoff may have gotten away with a lot of gaming cash, but I hope the lesson won’t be lost in the resulting blame game.

Indian Music Defies Stereotype

Ralph Zotigh and his drum group at the Taos Pueblo Powwow, July 2005.


It is a cool moonlit night. Four men stand silhouetted against a cloudless sky on the middle bridge over the Río Pueblo, right in the middle of the plaza of a nearly 900 year-old adobe village. They wear blankets, traditional style, and their hair is in long ribbon-wrapped braids. Between them they hold a drum. In their hands are wooden drum sticks that are being used in rhythmic accompaniment to a Taos Pueblo round dance song. The notes sung by the men are full and rich and convey complex images without words. It is pure singing.

This could be a scene from many years ago ... or from last night.

Music among the indigenous tribes of North America is not a static art form, culled from the ancients in a closed loop endangered on all sides by the pressures of modern life. It is alive and real and is constantly evolving and adapting.

A common impression, perhaps ingrained from old movies, is that American Indian music is pounded out on a “tom-tom” using an indistinguishable rhythm, accompanied by nothing more than something resembling “hey-ya, hey-ya, hey-ya.” If there was ever a musical version of a racial slur, this is it.

The truth is more complex and infinitely more intriguing. As vast as there are individual Indian tribes with their own customs, traditions, languages and histories, so too are the styles found in Indian music.

Within each tribe there are songs to accompany every significant event in its social and religious life, although it may be argued that native religion and society among these groups is synonymous. At Taos Pueblo, for instance, are many songs which are probably never heard by anyone outside tribal membership, songs which are an integral part of the cyclical rites and ceremonies conducted since time began for these people.

Perhaps one of the most common are songs to honor veterans, warriors of the past and present who selflessly work to protect their people. During the late 19th century, it was the Ghost Dance and its songs — which were Plains Indian prayers to bring back the strength and spiritual commitment of tribal forebears — which led to an attack by the U.S. Cavalry resulting in the Wounded Knee Massacre.

The power of music and dance was considered so immense, that the government sought to exterminate a people. It didn’t work.

Branching out from the reservation borders are ways Indian music has also borrowed from outside influences. Perhaps the most well known symphonic interpretations of Indian life have come from composer Louis Ballard, whose ironic “Incident at Wounded Knee” was given its New York premiere in 1999.

“This composer draws on his Quapaw-Cherokee roots to commemorate the notorious massacre and evoke the traditions and moods of Native American people,” a statement from American Composers Orchestra explains. “The four-movement work is not only inspired by the ‘incident,’ but by the systematic massacre of Native Americans throughout the 19th century. The orchestral work was commissioned by Dennis Russell Davies for the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra, where it received a premiere in May of 1974.”

Most popular, however, is the music found at powwows throughout the nation. This pan-Indian art form of social music and dance draws primarily from tribes of the Great Plains, whose historically nomadic cultures made contact with a network of many tribal peoples far beyond. Today, the colorful regalia of dancers and drum groups as popular as rock musicians within the genre makes this a breeding ground for new and innovative compositions.

“There are hundreds of powwows and celebrations held throughout the United States and Canada every summer,” according to information from www.taospueblopowwow.com. “Rosebud Fair in South Dakota, Black Hills Expo in Rapid City, South Dakota, Denver March Pow Wow in Colorado, Red Earth Celebration in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, Fort Kipp Celebration in Fort Kipp, Montana, the Winnebago Powwow in western Nebraska, and the annual Taos Pueblo Powwow in Taos, New Mexico are a few stops along the powwow trail.”

In the powwow realm, most music is divided into Northern and Southern Plains styles. From there, it is broken down into songs relating to certain dances such as war dance, round dance and gourd dance, to name just a few. In addition, there are flag songs and various honoring songs. Some of the most popular produce recordings that are part of a growing and lucrative industry for some drum groups.

Perhaps as a testiment to how enduring and creative Indian music and musicians have become, the Native American Music Awards were established seven years ago. Previous honorees have included Crystal Gayle, Bill Miller, Joanne Shenandoah, R. Carlos Nakai, Taos Pueblo’s Robert Mirabal, Indigenous, Litefoot, Robbie Robertson, Rita Coolidge, Tom Bee, John Trudell, the Navajo Codetalkers (Living Legend), the late Jimi Hendrix and Hank Williams, and Notah Begaye III (Thorpe Sports Award).

So, the next time you hear a round dance song at Taos Pueblo, listen closely. You won’t hear words exactly, but maybe the voices of generations stretching from the past and far into the future.