Justice

[ I am returning to “500 Years Dwelling Among Savages.”]

 

Holland, summer, 1972.  UN Conference on Human Environment at Stockholm, Sweden just concluded.

 

The place where dwells the seat of “justice”

that has not the spirit

to defend innocent people from deadly assault

 

A SEARCH FOR JUSTICE

ZUIDER ZEE

 

Little home of Zuider Zee

            resting uneasy under grey clouds

            trembling with each cresting of the waves

 

For many seasons

            you were to my dreams

            a place of beautiful wonder,

                        a land dwelling only in stories told to me by my mother

                        in the dancing light of whispering fire

                        when I was a small child

                        in the darkness long ago

 

But as time grew older

            the fairytale lands became real places

and my people remained threatened

            by invading armies of much agony that

                        burned our homes

                        plundered our water and forests

                        and destroyed the lives of  our children

 

They changed the land of our dreams

            into a place that our Grandmothers cannot recognize

            although they struggle to do this

 

In our search of many seasons for justice

            we learned of the great house of much peace

            resting upon earth

                        among the gardens in the land of many tulips

 

The Council

            around the flickering fire of evening spoke,

 

“We have exhausted all of the laws of the Americans

            none will give us justice

            none will give us consideration

 

“We have exhausted our patience

            with the grey words of the Indian Bureau

            and all of the American Presidents

 

“We must wait no longer for justice to be delivered to us

            for with each passing day

            there are many new laws

            that remove us farther from truth, as a stick floating down stream moves away

 

“Officers of the United Nations

            refuse to stand beside us in out correct position of never being defeated

            and never saying, “surrender”

 

They, working with Americans, elect to deny us our sovereignty

            and to acknowledge that we will never surrender

 

“Let us send a messenger

to the land of flowers and windmills

where people wear shoes made from the trees in the forest

 

For there is a palace there, we are told,

            and justice is not denied to any people

            for it is the council-heart of the world

 

“We have given Americans too many seasons to be true with us

            now we must go beyond the boundaries of America

            seeking that dignity which is ours by birth

 

“We must make America face us

as the world sits in judgment

and we bring our charges and lay them before the law-people

who live only for justice for all nations

who dream only of freedom for all children

who spend their days and their nights

            thinking only of

            equal sharing of powers that are of earth.”

 

This is how my tribal council thought as the coyotes yodeled and stars danced blue and red in the night sky and moon looked through the tops of the tall pines, thinking

 

This is how my people thought as we gathered beneath the seasons wondering of our future

 

Soon the power led me across the great eastern salt-waters

 

To the land where the heartless statue

            of the one called Napoleon

            stands upon every corner of the city, Paris

 

To the place where Hitler and ignorance smiled

            at the death of the poor and the Jewish people

 

To the place of many agreements-that-have-no-binding-of-the-heart, Geneva

 

To the land of the fighting people of Lyon

 

To the beautiful rolling hills of the sweet people,

and that place has been known for all seasons, Larzac

 

To the land of tulips-of-all-colors, to the shores of Zuider Zee, and peace

 

Aztec, Mayan, Mohawk, Hopi, Navajo, Itam Is

 

Together we walked towards

            the huge building of red stone

            called by many people, palace-where-peace-dwells

 

My thoughts whispered to my being

 

            “Here, after many seasons

            my people will finally find justice”

 

We spoke to a man-of-no-spirit but who held a gun

We spoke to a man-of-no-knowledge but who stood behind a power desk

We spoke to a man-of-no-understanding

            but who said he knew all there was to know

            about world justice

            and native homelands were not nations

 

We spoke to a man who said many times, “can’t”

.

And the old black man sweeping floors

            was the only one in the palace

            with enough dignity to know what he was doing

 

O’Holland, you must no longer honor America’s interpretation of justice

            or you will always be a frightened thought of peace

a trembling people doubting truth,

a confused purpose in a small land

pretending to have direction and destination

 

Sul’ma’ejote