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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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Reflections
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I traveled around this weekend. Far and wide in one of those
characteristically big American cars. It was a Ford, the manifestation of
the American industrial adventure. We had two places to reach: The Crow
Fair, a huge assembly of North American Indians, and the Little Bighorn
Battlefield. Both places associated with very strong emotions and
traditions. At the end of the weekend, the only emotion I had was a strong
feeling of disgust. Disgust at man's hypocrisy and willingness to forget.
The Little Bighorn Battlefield, not long ago known as Custer
Battlefield, held the last, great battle between red and white. Here died
hundreds of soldiers. Outnumbered 9-1 by the united might of the Sioux
nation, they were slaughtered by the Indians. Why? Foolishness and immense
arrogance on one side, despair and rage on the other.
On those hills, two completely opposing mindsets met. One, an
officer of the U.S. Army, eager for a promotion, out to wipe the red devils
off the surface of the earth. The other, an Indian Chief, leading the last
remnants of his once great people in a last chance effort to protect their
land and way of life. One, a loser in school and else in civil life, a
coward, know to have been using women and children as living shields to get
out of battle. The other, an elder warrior, risen in the ranks because of
sheer courage, ability and wisdom. Custer and Sitting Bull.
Custer controlled one cavalry, the other an entire people. Custer
was happy and cheered when he saw the Indian village. Two _miles_ of Tipis
in a wide valley. He decided to wipe them out in a stroke. Such incredible
arrogance. He was doomed, and he took his soldiers with him. The young
carpenter from Ireland who couldn't get a job in New York and joined the
army. The middle-aged man who was tired of working at the cotton fields in
the south, and sought a better life in the north. They gave their lives,
uselessly, in an unneeded and dirty battle, caused by greed alone.
After the battle the Indians left and spread wide and far. They
knew they couldn't keep the fight up much longer. The white man had broken
his word, neglected his own treaties, chased them from front to front, till
there was nowhere left to go. They had been given "reservations", only to
discover that no borders mattered where gold was found.
Today, the whole battlefield is closed area, sacred ground. There
is a huge stone-monument naming all the soldiers that died in the battle,
with Custer on top. All over the field, white stones stands to show where
dead soldiers were found. There is not one single object dedicated to the
Indians. Yes, an Indian memorial is in the plans, but I find it truly
appalling that it has taken so long. The memorial will also be raised well
below the soldier monument. You will be able to look down at it.
The Crow Fair was interesting, but also disappointing. The
Indians of today has lost their way of life, and therefore also most of
their culture. They will never get a chance to regain their way of life,
and can thus not restore their culture. With few exceptions, they live on
the most infertile and useless land there is. The reservations serve no
other purpose than to fool them into the dream of restoring the good old
days.
I love America. The vastness, diversity, the melting-pot of
cultures that it is. The ideas that founded the nation. The fine bonds that
has kept it mostly united throughout the years. But there are shadowy,
dark, sides of that story too. The Indians being merely a "good example".
A ranger, part time history professor, at the Little Bighorn site,
said that looking back at this event, was like looking through a window.
Trough that window, you could see blood, greed, despair, all the worst in
man. Events that should be left behind, and not bother us again. And I
stare into that window. And I start to think.
I think of 28 civilians killed by a bomb in Northern Ireland^Åkids.
Of ethnic-religious wars on Balkan. Of a growing Ku Klux Clan. Of 28% of
German youth denying Holocaust. Of a Middle East on the fringe of all-out
war. Of people saying that Vietnam was perfectly OK.
And I start to fear.
I fear that I am staring into a mirror.
Mithrandir
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