Jessica Crabtree

“…The Earth does not belong to man; man belongs to Earth. Man did not weave the web of life; he is merely a strand in it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself…”

- Chief Seattle

The famous oration by Chief Seattle is believed to have been made in 1854; the venue was supposedly a public meeting called by the governor in Seattle, Washington to discuss the transfer of native lands to the whites. There, the chief of the local Suquamish and Duwamish tribes stood up to deliver his eloquent final word on the massive changeover taking place in his world.

It’s been touted as one of the most compelling environmental messages ever spoken, a moving plea from an Indian watching his culture and his natural homeland disappear. Millions of copies have sold across the world; it’s been used throughout the media, from radio to movies to books (including an appearance in an Al Gore book). But a closer look may reveal a disappointing past to this iconic bestseller.

The speech with many faces

There are several versions of the speech in circulation, so obviously they can’t all be right. And each is littered with subtle anachronisms and other textual flaws that raise red flags about their authenticity.

The most popular (and most quoted) version was written by Texas professor Ted Perry as part of a screenplay for a 1972 film called “Home.” It was this version that soon became a war-cry for environmentalists – and the one that contains the biggest gaffs.

Buffalo and iron horses?

“…I’ve seen a thousand rotting buffaloes on the prairie, left by the white man who shot them from a passing train. I am a savage and I do not understand how the smoking iron horse can be more important than the buffalo that we kill only to stay alive…”

Readers will notice that Chief Seattle speaks of the “iron horse” or railroad. The first railroad in Washington was built by the Cascades Railroad Company in 1858 – several years after Chief Seattle supposedly delivered his speech. The Transcontinental Railroad wasn’t completed until 1869.

Above all, the “lament over the buffalo” is a dead giveaway. Chief Seattle lived in the Pacific Northwest – not the Great Plains – and never traveled beyond his homeland. We all know there are no buffalo anywhere near the Puget Sound. But I doubt it would have been as effective if the chief was quoted mourning over a diminishing seafood population. That just wouldn’t sell.

This reminds me of the scene in the movie Smoke Signals where Victor tries to teach his friend Thomas the “stoic” Indian look:

Victor: You gotta look mean or people won’t respect you. White people will run all over you if you don’t look mean. You gotta look like a warrior! You gotta look like you just came back from killing a buffalo!

Thomas: But our tribe never hunted buffalo – we were fishermen.

Victor: What! You want to look like you just came back from catching a fish? This ain’t “Dances With Salmon” you know!

This illustrates how much the stereotype of the Plains Indians has permeated the white view of Native Americans. In the perception of many people, Indians = vast herds of buffalo roaming the prairie, wild ponies running through the wind, and tepees silhouetted against the sunset. One image becomes a mass-scale stereotype of all Indians, everywhere. Then, out of sight, out of mind: no more buffalo, no more tepees = no more Indians – thus the “vanishing race.” Cut and dry, two-dimensional thinking.

This is the kind of thinking that is projected all through the Chief Seattle speech. And it’s perhaps one of the biggest indicators that it’s nothing more than a fake – well-intentioned, perhaps, but still a fake.

A troubled history

The speech was reworked on at least three separate occasions before its most famous reincarnation in the 1970′s.

The earliest publication of the speech purportedly dates to an 1887 Seattle newspaper article by Washington pioneer Henry Smith. He was a doctor (and a poet, curiously enough) who claimed to have “taken notes” on Seattle’s words at the 1854 land conference.

Years later, in 1929, it was adapted for a book on Washington history. In 1932, John M. Rich created a pamphlet allegedly based on the Smith article; it became widely circulated and landed a copy in the Library of Congress. This was later revised in the 1960′s (by another poet, no less) in an attempt to modernize the speech for a more contemporary audience.

Even though the oldest versions of the speech contain nothing about buffalo or railroads (proving that these were later interjections), many researchers have pointed out that the validity of the original version is in doubt. The flowery, ornate language is strongly indicative of the poetic style of the day. What’s more, there’s no support for the assertion that Henry Smith was present at any of the public meetings attended by Chief Seattle, or that he ever witnessed an oration given by the chief.

Lost in translation?

One minor detail commonly overlooked is the fact that Chief Seattle couldn’t speak English. So the speech is quite a feat, either for the chief, or for some very accomplished mystery translator of the little known Lushootsheed dialect. More likely, any words spoken by the chief would have been loosely translated into the Chinook jargon – the lingua franca used by native peoples throughout the Pacific coast. It’s open to debate whether any text relayed through translation several times over can preserve much of its original character.

Moreover, the fact that the earliest draft of the Smith version didn’t appear until more than 30 years later, gives rise to suspicions about Smith’s motives in publicizing his memoir.

Jerry Clark, of the National Archives and Records Administration, says “…this memorable statement loses its moral force and validity if it is the literary creation of a frontier physician rather than the thinking of an articulate and wise Indian leader.”

In fact, Chief Seattle’s only officially documented words are found in the minutes of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, recorded at an 1855 conference with several coastal tribes to discuss the Point Elliot Treaty. They consist of two very brief paragraphs discussing the chief’s willingness to cooperate with the American officials. That’s all – nothing about the environment, or the spirit world, or anything remotely resembling later versions of his famous speech.

The real Chief Seattle

The real Duwamish chief, also known as Sealth, See-ahth, or Si’ahl, was born around 1780 near present-day Blake Island, Washington. He inherited his position from his maternal uncle and became a leader renowned for his imposing presence and his speaking ability.

As Salish lands throughout the Northwest became overrun with white settlers, particularly in the period following the Oregon Trail, he was notable for his eagerness to accommodate and even extend friendship towards whites. His negotiations helped the Duwamish avert conflicts and secure a more peaceful transition to reservation life.

His close friend “Doc” Maynard was responsible for naming the city of Seattle in his honor. Seattle died on the reservation in 1866.

Left: The only known real photo of Seattle, taken in 1865, just a year before his death.

Right: A supposed portrait of Chief Seattle, reworked and touched up – just like his words.

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Right: Princess Angeline, or Kikisoblu, was the last living descendant of Chief Seattle. This photo was taken in 1895 by an up-and-coming photographer named Edward Curtis. It was the first of more than 40,000 portraits of Native Americans he took over the course of his career.

See also:

Snopes.com:
Chief Seattle’s Speech (includes the complete text of the most popular version by Ted Perry)

“Thus Spoke Chief Seattle: The Story of An Undocumented Speech” – an excellent essay from the National Archives

Human Ecology Review: The Myth of Chief Seattle by William S. Abruzzi [PDF]

NY Times: Chief’s Speech of 1854 Given New Meaning (and Words) by Timothy Egan

March Point – a real look at environmental issues from the point of view of the Coast Salish (who, contrary to some, have not “vanished”…) This independent documentary hinges on the lives of three Swinomish youths growing up on the rez in Washington state.