On September 8, 1883, the Sioux leader Sitting Bull made a speech to government officials, railroad barons, and the U.S. military in honor of the completion of the Northern Pacific Railway. And on this one occasion, after a long and bloody attempt to defend his people and their lands from White invaders, Sitting Bull seized the chance to express his opinion of those he had opposed for so long against tremendous odds.
Some context: The lands of northern Montana and Idaho had not drawn as many settlers as other parts of the U.S. west, and for good reason. The harsh prairie environment included scalding summer heat, winter temperatures ranging from 10 to 40 degrees below zero, relentless winds without any tree breaks to slow them down, and a lack of water. But to the Sioux, these lands were perfect. The prairie tableland meant that they could ride their horses during hunting at top speeds. The buffalo provided for most of their food and clothing needs. They were able to hunt at will, and move to fresh hunting grounds when they wished.
Even with a relatively small invasion of Whites, the balance of this life was upset. Sitting Bull summed up the problem, a set of differences that went far beyond culture:
White men like to dig in the ground for their food. My people prefer to hunt the buffalo…White men like to stay in one place. My people want to move their tepees here and there to different hunting grounds. The life of white men is slavery. They are prisoners in their towns or farms. The life my people want is freedom.
The ceremony was lavish, featuring the joining of the two ends of the railroad with a solid gold spike. Guests of honor included former President Ulysses S. Grant, Secretary of State Henry Teller, the governors of every state that the railway connected, Northern Pacific president Henry Villard, and the bankers and investors who would rake in the profits from their venture. Other guests included diplomats from Germany, Great Britain, and the Netherlands. Plus the defeated leader of the Sioux Nation, Sitting Bull, who had submitted a draft of his speech in advance for approval. The remarks had been co-written with a young Army officer who spoke Sioux and made extensive “suggestions” for Sitting Bull’s remarks.
Sitting Bull rode at the head of the parade with his army chaperone by his side. But when it was time for him to speak, the audience was surprised when the famous Indian warrior spoke in Sioux, not in English. Sitting Bull looked directly to the U.S. Secretary of State, to Grant, to the generals and railroad barons who sat before him. “I hate all White people,” he said. “You are thieves and liars. You have taken away our land and made us outcasts.” He went on to describe all the atrocities that his nation had endured at the hands of the United States. He would stop periodically to smile, and the audience applauded enthusiastically, assuming he was welcoming them and complimenting their great achievement. Sitting Bull would bow in return, then resume his scathing assessment of the White man’s corruption and dishonesty. Only the panic-stricken Army officer who had helped Sitting Bull draft the speech could understand him, and knew it was pointless to interrupt. Sitting Bull received a standing ovation at the end of his speech.
“I wish it to be remembered that I was the last man of my tribe to surrender my rifle,” Sitting Bull told the officers at Fort Buford when he turned himself in. In 1883, this great leader was an outcast, had starved nearly to death, and was a prisoner of U.S. policies. But he understood that his only path was continued resistance. With bullets, warriors, and even provisions taken from him, Sitting Bull still had his anger, his sense of justice, and the words that rendered his enemies into fools.
“Behold, my brothers, the spring has come; the earth has received the embraces of the sun and we shall soon see the results of that love! Every seed has awakened and so has all animal life. It is through this mysterious power that we too have our being and we therefore yield to our neighbors, even our animal neighbors, the same right as ourselves, to inhabit this land. Yet hear me, my people, we have now to deal with another race – small and feeble when our fathers first met them, but now great and overbearing. Strangely enough they have a mind to till the soil and the love of possessions is a disease with them . . . They claim this mother of ours, the earth, for their own, and fence their neighbors away; they deface her with their buildings and their refuse. They threaten to take [the land] away from us. My brothers, shall we submit, or shall we say to them: “First kill me before you take possession of my Fatherland.” – Sitting Bull’s Speech at the Powder River Council, 1877.