Excerpt: On November 3, 2016, a ritual burning of the Doctrine of Discovery (the European legal concept that justified the dispossession of native lands by Europeans) was held at the Oceti Sakowin Camp in North Dakota. Episcopalian Reverend John Floberg, who was acting at the invitation of the Standing Rock Sioux, held a copy of the Doctrine of Discovery (presumably the Papal Bull titled “Inter Caetera” issued by Pope Alexander VI on May 4, 1493) and invited a committee of native elders to, if so moved, authorize the burning of the document. After a series of speeches and rituals, the document was burned to the applause and cheering of hundreds of native and nonnative water protectors (as many prefer to be called over “protestor”) and about five hundred clergy members. This interfaith campaign has gathered steam in the last five years and calls on churches and governments to renounce the Doctrine of Discovery. The campaign has resulted in official pronouncements from the World Council of Churches, Episcopal House of Bishops, Quakers, United Methodist Church, and Unitarian Universalists. The effort by indigenous activists received its most international notoriety when the UN Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues (where I have been conducting fieldwork since the first session in 2002) declared it the official theme of the Eleventh Session of the Permanent Forum in 2012.

I examine the anti–Doctrine of Discovery campaign at the UN, particularly the Eleventh Session, and other related contexts for two reasons. First, the movement highlights the challenges and possibilities of what I call Pan-American indigenous activism because it has been embraced by a diverse group of indigenous activists from Latin America and North America, and it frames historic grievances in a uniquely pan-hemispheric way. Although it focuses on Papal Bulls generated under Iberian colonialism and what is now Latin America, it traces the connections and continuities of the colonialist and [End Page 823] imperialist ideologies that underpinned both English and Spanish aggressions in the Americas. Second, I argue that an examination of this movement is particularly apt in the context of the analytic possibilities and limitations of the concept of settler colonialism across the indigenous Americas. In the words of Patrick Wolfe, “settler colonialism destroys to replace.” This destruction and its aftermath create a unique dilemma for activists and others who attempt to redress it. This is the dilemma of (perceived) irreversibility—the larger (and more destructive) the damage, the less practical and realizable redress seems.

I demonstrate the ways indigenous activists in the United States and Latin America strategically use institutions like the UN and the news media in unexpected ways to create what Kevin Bruyneel, focusing exclusively on the United States, calls a “third space of sovereignty” that “resides neither simply inside nor outside the American political system but rather exists on these very boundaries, exposing both the practices and the contingencies of American colonial rule.” Indigenous participants have used the symbolic capital of the United Nations to put pressure on national governments and corporations that are active in their territories and communities in a way that transcends the narrow mandate the United Nations gives to the Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues (and other venues for indigenous participation within the UN system). The Dakota Access Pipeline case is a recent example of an emergent Pan-American indigenous activism that to some extent is lodged in global governmental institutions but also defies the constraints inherently accompanying this positioning.

Settler colonialism describes a process that unmistakably has played out differently, if at all, in Latin America and North America. Surely there has been “destruction and replacement” in both hemispheres during the colonial period, but it is widely acknowledged that the North American process was oriented less toward exploitation of native labor than toward the removal of native people to make way for English settlers and other imported and forced laborers from the Old World.


Excerpt: The Los Angeles Central Library’s exhibition “Visualizing Language: A Zapotec Worldview,” which opened this past September, features a series of murals produced by the Oaxacan artists collective Tlacolulokos. The murals are envisioned as providing a “counter-narrative” to existing ones painted by Dean Cornwell, in 1933, depicting a history of California in four stages: Era of Discovery, Missions, Americanization, and Founding of the City of Los Angeles. In these paintings Native people are depicted as marginal and subservient figures within grander visions of colonization. The new murals are thus intended to provide a new voice by putting “a different protagonist in the center of the story.” What is of interest for the present essay is who gets to tell this story. It is not Native artists on whose land the library is built, but Oaxacan Indigenous people. In this way, this project continues a legacy of erasure embedded in current discourses of multiculturalism that reinforce settler colonial dispossession and hegemony.

Taking Indigenous Mexican migration as a point of departure, this essay joins critical scholarship on settler colonialism exploring the role of the migrant in settler processes. Following Patrick Wolfe’s theorization of settler colonialism as a structuring force rather than as a historical passage, we ask: How might a comparative framework on settler colonialisms help us articulate theoretical discussion beyond the dominant settler–Native racial binary? And in which ways does the settler colonial theoretical framework render visible the ways in which distinct bodies are racialized within and beyond national boundaries? We understand settler colonialism as the complex reverberations originating from Indigenous dispossession and white possession. As a global and transnational phenomenon, settler colonialism is a structuring force that in coproduction with the transatlantic slave trade, indentured labor, and other forms of racial ordering enables particular racial logics and forms of exclusions integral to global capital and empire.




Excerpt: Latin American states are settler colonial states, though they are rarely analyzed in this way. Indeed, there often seems to be a kind of entrenched resistance to thinking about Latin America in settler colonial terms, for reasons that are complex, but have to do in large part to an implicit adherence to some premises of settler colonialism put forward by Patrick Wolfe, who is often credited with having popularized the term and, intentionally or not, generating the field of settler colonial studies.

Wolfe did not, of course, coin the term. Native scholars and activists had been using it for some time, as he himself regularly pointed out. Further, a group of prominent feminist scholars published Unsettling Settler Societies, edited by Daiva Stasiulis and Nira Yuval Davis, in 1995, three years before Wolfe published Settler Colonialism and the Transformation of Anthropology. Notably, Latin America was included in that volume (see contributions by Gutierrez and Radcliffe). That said, Wolfe’s lucid articulation of the structure and logics of settler colonialism has been and remains tremendously influential, and continues to undergird—at times a bit too rigidly—our understandings of the workings of settler power in the field of Native studies. In particular, the land–labor binary, the importance of which Wolfe elaborated in most of his works and reasserted in the recent Traces of History (2016), has become an often-unspoken and largely unexamined premise of the settler state in ways that occlude significant complexity and foreclose recognition of settler structures. I do not raise this in an antitheory sense, to challenge abstraction in favor of empirical specificity per se. Rather, I think the specificity of cases all too often discarded without further or sufficient examination may in fact add new richness and dimension to the overall theoretical analytic.


Excerpt: Inspired by recent debates over the suitability of extending settler colonialism as a framework for understanding the experiences of indigenous Latinx in the United States and indigenous peoples in Latin America, this forum offers a substantive engagement with settler colonial theory that attends to the specificities of Latin American colonialism(s). Considered a key distinction of Anglophone imperial projects, it is rare to find settler colonialism applied to Latin America. This resistance reflects entrenched divisions precluding North–South dialogues, problems regarding the concept’s translatability to a Latin American context, and an emphasis on binary divisions within settler colonial theory.

Applying settler colonial theory to Latin America is hampered by the nascent relationship between American Indian studies and Latin American studies. Although both fields have been instrumental in advancing indigenous studies, these fields are rarely in conversation with each other. This divide was evident at the 2017 Native American and Indigenous Studies Association meeting. The sessions sponsored by the Abiayala Working Group, which supports indigenous studies in Latin America and the Caribbean, are seldom attended by scholars of American Indian studies. While recent forays to bring postcolonial studies in conversation with American Indian studies and to frame indigenous Latinx communities within a settler colonial paradigm gesture toward new engagements with the global South, these efforts remain focused on North America.

The term itself is difficult to translate. In Spanish, settler colonialism translates to colonialismo de asentamiento or colonialismo de colonos. Shannon Speed points out that the Spanish definition of colonialism implies settlement, making these translations redundant. As such, it is a slippery concept to apply to Latin America where nation-building projects have framed criollización/creolization as “an indigenizing process.” We are left with the quandary of debating who is a settler.



Abstract: The 150 mark for Confederation and the founding of the modern Canadian state comes at a moment when at universities across Canada it is now routine to acknowledge traditional territory, and in so doing to recognize a longer history, dating before 1867 and the establishment of European colonies (Canadian Association of University Teachers, 2016). Territorial acknowledgements also give recognition to the Indigenous peoples who lived and continue to live on the land, as well as the ways in which land figures into Indigenous identities and ontologies in ways that are typically very different than settlers (Battell Lowman and Barker,2015: 48–68). Such acknowledgements are also happening at cultural events and even hockey games, with a Fall 2016 Heritage Classic Game on the home turf of the Winnipeg Jets believed to be the first (Lambert, 2016). As a consequence, we are living in a moment in which we are being reminded about buried and unacknowledged history, as well as about the colonial past and the colonial present. Moreover, the Canadian government devoted $500 million to celebrate the 150th anniversary of Confederation in 2017, (“Why Exactly Are We Spending?” 2017), but clashing historical narratives have also given rise to the question of whether Confederation is actually something to rejoice (Slowey, 2016). Consider here the striking name of the new book by Kiera Ladner and Myra Tait (2017) entitled Surviving Canada: Indigenous Peoples Celebrate 150 Years of Betrayal.