This Land Is Their Land

The temperature was 21 degrees below zero, not counting the 20-m.p.h. winds blowing across the hilltop cemetery, as mourners gathered to remember a gruesome massacre. A century ago, on Dec. 29, 1890, soldiers of the 7th Cavalry slaughtered hundreds of Sioux men, women and children who had sought refuge under a white flag at a place called Wounded Knee. To mark the anniversary, descendants of the survivors came on foot and on horseback, some from hundreds of miles across the plains. They circled the chain-link fence around the grave site, saying their prayers in silence and burning sage for purification. South Dakota Governor George Mickelson offered words of sorrow and apology, the culmination of a "Year of Reconciliation" between whites and Indians in South Dakota. The journey to the grave site, he said, "has been a prayer and a sacrifice, a wiping away of tears."

Each week brings a new installment in the fight for the survival of an ancient culture in a modern age and for dominion over lands lost a century ago. Above all, Native Americans wish to preserve the right to practice their religion, enforce their laws and educate their children without interference. Says Scott Borg, an Albuquerque attorney who regularly represents Native Americans: "The U.S. government has no more right telling the Pueblos how to run their internal affairs than does a country like Iraq to tell Kuwait how to run its internal affairs."

The vehicle, and the obstacle, to Indian autonomy is the immense, inert Bureau of Indian Affairs. The 167-year-old agency, which is in charge of everything from tribal courts and schools to social services and law enforcement on the reservations, has a sorry record of waste, corruption and choking red tape. A recent survey of government executives ranked it the least respected of 90 federal agencies, with the Indian Health Service close behind. An effort to restructure the bureau was halted by Congress until a task force of Native Americans could be assembled for consultation. But hope for progress runs thin: "Restructuring the BIA," one tribal leader noted, "is like rotating four worn-out tires."

Most Native Americans can no longer afford to wait for the government to take action. The crusade for greater self-determination reflects the desperate poverty and social pain that marks daily life on many reservations. "Indians are the most regulated people in the world," says Dale Riesling, chairman of the 2,000-member Hoopa Valley tribe in Northern California. "Self- determination means that we are completely free to set our own direction and goals, basically our own destiny." That destiny is in dire need of reshaping: life expectancy in some tribes is 45 years, the leading cause of death is alcoholism, and Indians have the lowest per capita income of any ethnic group in the U.S. A weak school system has made it nearly impossible for Native Americans to succeed in competitive jobs off the reservations. Without the resources to address these problems, tribal leaders fear that poverty and aimlessness will destroy whatever remains of traditional Indian culture.