Walking down the street in Old City, Philadelphia, I noticed a gothic building with the name Robert Morris in large, engraved letters. As I stared at the building, I knew I recognized that name. I had seen that name before, as I had researched the Treaty of Big Tree between the Seneca Nation and Robert Morris, the premier land speculator and a Pennsylvania Senator in the late 18th century. During my time at the APS, I researched Anthony Wallace’s papers, an anthropologist who worked as an expert witness, researcher, and advocate for Indigenous tribes seeking legal retribution for past injustices. Looking at the way Native tribes were able to hijack the traditionally colonial, racist, or damaging legal frameworks for their own benefit was encouraging. Seeing these tribes embrace the colonial system in a subversive manner to actually benefit their communities made me feel proud that even in a system that is built to disadvantage Indigenous people, tribes are incredibly resilient. The research I was able to participate in this summer was inspiring as someone who is interested in advocacy through the American legal system. My research proved to me that this colonial system can be appropriated to benefit people who were not meant to benefit historically and create change through unexpected avenues.
Indigenous communities have a very unique relationship with the federal government within the legal sector. “The Doctrine of Federal Trust Responsibility'' is a legal principle that requires the federal government to safeguard the best interests and welfare of Indigenous tribes in the US. This relationship between the established “domestic dependent nations” (Cherokee Nation v. Georgia 1831) and the overarching power of the US government creates a very paternalistic relationship. U.S. politicians have historically viewed Indigenous tribes as dependents, as children would be to a parent, and the federal government’s role is to take care of the best interests of tribes as a parent would. However, a history of broken and coercive treaties and legal dealings between the U.S. and Indigenous tribes calls into question the validity of this framework.
In the court case The Seneca Nation v. The United States of America, which Wallace worked on, lawyers for the Seneca Nation laid out evidence that many treaties between the U.S. and the Seneca nation were acquired through illegitimate or abusive means. The Seneca Nation was liable for the damages and loss of property resulting from these treaties. While the doctrine of federal trust responsibility was originally a condescending framework that was meant to hold back Indigenous tribes, in this case the Seneca Nation was able to use this as a means of holding the United States accountable. The treaty that I focused on was the Treaty of Big Tree, where in 1797 the Seneca Nation relinquished 3.5 million acres of their traditional homelands for 2 ½ cents an acre, spearheaded by Morris. The Seneca Nation was reluctant to sell their lands, with some Seneca people nicknaming Morris as “The Greater Eater With a Big Belly” due to his insatiable hunger to take more lands. Morris knew that the Seneca Nation would not relinquish those lands easily, so when he promised to provide provisions for the treaty negotiations he included 1,500 rations of whiskey per day so that the Seneca delegates would be easier to manipulate, and he was successful.
Staring at those large letters spelling out Robert Morris’s name as an important Pennsylvania figurehead, it hit me that these colonial historical figures are interpreted extremely differently by one's proximity to the people who they hurt. I was unfamiliar with who Morris was before my research this summer, and without the knowledge of the abuse he encouraged, that name may have just been letters on a building, as it is to most Philadelphia residents. Even as a member of the Muscogee (Creek) tribe, because the United States’s colonial history is painted as a positive patriotic past in most areas of the country, I was unaware of some of the dark past. Morris and many other colonial figures utilized force and violence against Indigenous communities to get what they wanted.
As an Indigenous person, when I recognized his name from the research I had been doing, immortalized as someone to aspire to, I was overwhelmed with frustration and anger. Philadelphia is a hub of colonial history, dedicated statues of colonial figures are scattered all throughout the city. These statues are meant to represent independence, and freedom, but freedom and independence as represented by colonial history is only meant for a select few. To my White counterparts touring Philly’s historical landmarks it may bring a sense of pride or patriotism. But to me, they represent millions of broken treaties, abuse and coercion, and the killing of my ancestors. I wish I could feel pride. I wish I could feel admiration for the founders of this country. But instead, with every statue I pass of a man who cheated, stole, and killed my people for the land I stand on, I feel anger and sadness.