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A Letter from Indian Chief

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    2006/08/12 15:04
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-A Letter from Indian Chief-

We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children. - Haida Indian Saying


    The great leader in Washington proposed that he hopes to buy our land. The great leader sent us words of friendship and amity, which we appreciated because we know he doesn't need our friendship that much. Yet we are going to consider his suggestion, because we are aware that otherwise white men with guns will deprive us of the land.

    How on earth do you think you can buy the vital warmth of sky and land? This way of thinking is very strange to us. We can possess neither fresh air nor twinkling water. So how can you buy those things from us? Everywhere on this land is holy to all my people. The bright needles of pines, the sandbanks along the coast, gloomy fog in the forest, and all kinds of singing bugs are sacred with my people's memory and experience.

    I know white men don't understand our way of life. To white men a section of land is same as the rest of it because they are just strangers who get there at night and take everything they need. Land is not their brother but their enemy. After conquering a part of land, they migrate there. Their vigorous appetite devours the land and makes it barren. The appearance of your city hurts Indian's eyes, which is probably because we are barbarians and don't understand your way of life.

    If I must accept your proposal, I will take only one condition, which is that white men should think of all creatures on this land as their brothers. If there are no animals, humans are what? If animals disappear, people will die due to the loneliness of the soul. What happens to animals will happen to people.

    We now know a fact that white men someday will know; your and our God is the same and one. Perhaps you think you can obtain our God just as you want to possess our land. But it is impossible! God is for all people. God's Mercy is same to red men and white men. This land is valuable to God; to harm His land is to insult Him. Someday white men will also disappear. Maybe they will perish before other tribes. If you keep polluting your sleeping place, some night you will be choked in your trash. When all the buffalos are killed, when the wild are tamed, when sacred forests are filled with people's smell, and when hills where wild fruits are getting ripe are defiled by talkative women, where can you find bushes and condors? And what does it mean if migrating and hunting come to an end? That is just the end of life and the beginning of death.

    There isn't anywhere silent in white men's cities. There isn't anywhere you are able to hear insects' flying. Noise hurts my ears - perhaps I don't understand as I am a savage. If you can't listen to the beautiful songs of nightjars and frogs in the lake at night, what is left in your life? North American Indians prefer the soft wind with smell of pine washed by mid-day rain. Air is of great worth to Indians because animals, trees, and people breathe it all together. White men don't seem to be aware of value of the air which they breathe. They can't smell like a moaning patient who has been sick for a long time.

    If we know the white men's dream, if we know their hope they tell their children during the long winter nights, and if we are aware of their vision for the future flaming in their hearts, perhaps we can understand them. But we are savages. White men's dreams are hidden to us. Because theirs are hidden, we shall be on our ways. If we agree with you, we will secure an Indian Reservation. We will finish our short life there as we hope. Although the last Indian on the earth vanishes, and although only the shadow of cloud flowing across the field is left, the coast and forest will still cherish the souls of my pepole - because they love this land just as a baby loves the pulses out of its mother's heart.

    If we decide to sell our land to you, please love it as we do, take care of it as we do, keep its memory as it is. With all your power and ability, and with your whole heart, preserve the land for your children. Please love it as God does us. We know that your God is same as ours. Land is of great value to God. Even white men can't be excluded from the Fate of community.

Seattle, Chief of SUQUAMI
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