Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee
There is an Indian proverb...
"It is easy to be brave...
from a distance.
Once there was
no honor in killing...
only necessity.
Honor came
with true courage.
But that day...
is long gone.
Ohiyesa,
go with the others!
I said, go!
Go!
The man was a f***ing idiot.
Splits his forces,
daylight raid, high noon.
An idiot, perhaps,
but he had his orders,
Mr. President.
"Drive the Sioux
out of the Black Hills,
onto the ration rolls... "
so that we could get
to that damn gold.
The Sioux resisted.
Resisted? Bullshit.
They resisted,
General Sherman.
Blocking a roundhouse
to the chin is resistance, Henry.
Massacring
five companies of cavalry-
I am not defending
their brutality, Mr. President.
The Sioux resisted
because by the '68 treaty
this land is theirs,
and we had no legal-
That treaty was also
only supposed to feed them
for four years,
and yet here we are
eight years later,
and you senators are passing
a million-a-year appropriation
to keep filling their bellies.
Why?
To keep them
from starving, General.
And that's all it's done-
made them beggars.
Hasn't advanced them one bit.
- And those smart enough not to sign-
- Do this.
They were attacked
by us first.
And what would you have us do,
Dawes? Cut and run?
Mr. President, this is
a senseless argument.
A senseless argument?
You know what they did
to those men on that hill?
They did things even I've
never seen before.
Henry?
The survival of the Indian
is your deepest concern, isn't that so?
You know it is.
I thought it was yours.
And it still is.
I appointed an Indian
to the head of Indian Affairs,
I'll remind you.
Another decision that your
colleagues were so fond of.
And another damn knot in the noose
of this administration.
Along with a three-year depression
and a bankrupt treasury.
This isn't about money, gentlemen,
And when you make an agreement,
you have a solemn obligation
- to fulfill-
- In spite of this atrocity...
I still believe that setting the Indians
on the course to civilization
Now, do you or do you not agree?
Yes, sir. I do.
Then you can't deny
that there's no saving the Sioux
unless we compel them
to give up their way of life
and settle
on the reservation.
I'll say it till
my tongue bleeds-
If we're ever going to claim
what we bought from the French
and whooped
the Mexicans for,
it's going to mean
killing Indians.
Whoa.
Your father.
Did you win
this feather?
Yes.
In the fight
at the Little Bighorn.
300 of us were to be hanged.
I killed two whites, but
the Great Father Lincoln saved me.
He sent me to prison
where my heart was made free.
- Free?
- Yes.
Because I have learned
there is another road
that runs beside
the warpath.
A secret road...
only known
to the Christ worshippers.
And you came back,
to make us Christ worshippers?
No. I have come
for my son.
O Lord, grant us the wisdom
and strength
to come to a peaceful accord
with our red brothers
here with us today-
Great Chief
of the Oglala Sioux, Red Cloud,
his head men-
Young Man
Afraid of His Horses,
American Horse, and others.
We beseech you,
O Lord,
in the name of Your son
- Amen.
- Amen.
I want to know to which god
the White Robe is praying.
The same god whom you deceived
when you made treaty with us
and broke it?
We come to you once again
to negotiate for your rights to the
Black Hills and your old hunting ground.
I am speaking, or has my medicine
made us invisible to you?
If so, you will not notice
when I lead my people out of here,
back to our lands.
I would like to know how many
of Red Cloud's young bucks
were at the Little Bighorn
with Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse.
Those men were hunting,
as the agent permitted.
Indeed they were hunting.
They were hunting
for white scalps.
I am a friend of the Great Father,
President Grant.
And I want to tell you,
he did not wish
for there to be war
between us again.
The Great Father
is the chief of all your people,
chosen by them.
Did he not order
those soldiers to attack?
Yes, it was
the Great Father's order.
But it did not come
from his heart.
Then I don't understand
how you whites do things.
And now you will place
"Give the Black Hills
and your old hunting lands to us
or we will
no longer feed you,
and we will kill Sitting Bull
and all those who continue to fight. "
- Is that not so?
- All right.
Red Cloud has had his say.
This new agreement...
will ensure
your continued support
and a new home at an agency
to be known... as Pine Ridge.
We no longer wish
your support.
We wish to hunt
on the lands
which the treaty
said we may keep.
Only as long as the game abounds.
The game is scarce now.
Because of your hunting
for amusement.
The paper you signed
allows for us to lay rail.
You agreed to this
when you touched the pen.
I touched the pen
because I wanted peace.
For the past eight snows,
my people have been living
like the poorest of whites.
Where are the fine things
you promised?
The kind you lavish on us when you
want our mark on your paper?
Chief Red Cloud,
did you or did you not
sign the paper
and advise your people
to do the same?
Am I invisible now?
I am speaking to you.
Colonel Miles, enough.
because these are the words
of the Great Father
and his people.
You must touch pen
to this paper,
or you and your people
will perish.
Soldiers!
Bear Coat.
They say he was fearless
in the whites' big war
against themselves.
Bear Coat was a friend
of Longhair Custer.
He comes for revenge.
Sitting Bull
requested this council.
We await his words.
Take your soldiers
out of here-
- they scare the game away.
- Very well, sir.
Tell me then, how far away
should I take my men?
You must take them
out of our lands.
What precisely
are your lands?
These are the lands
where my people lived
I don't understand. We whites
were not your first enemies.
Why don't you demand back
the land in Minnesota
where the Chippewa and others
forced you from years before?
The Black Hills
are a sacred land
given to my people
by Wakan Tanka.
How very convenient
to cloak your claims
in spiritualism.
And what would you say
to the Mormons and others
who believe that their god has given
to them Indian lands in the West?
I would say they should listen
to Wakan Tanka.
No matter what your legends say,
you didn't sprout from the plains
like the spring grasses.
And you didn't coalesce
out of the ether.
You came out of the Minnesota
woodlands armed to the teeth
and set upon your fellow man.
You massacred
the Kiowa, the Omaha,
the Ponca, the Oto
And yet you claim the Black Hills
as a private preserve
bequeathed to you
by the Great Spirit.
And who gave us the guns and powder
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