The Long Journeys Home. Nick Bellantoni
institutions, housing artifacts and human remains originating through the cultures of contemporary descendant Native peoples, have an obligation to collaborate with those communities and return human skeletons and items of cultural patrimony when requested.9 While NAGPRA remains controversial, complicated, confusing and is not always a given, the law does represent a philosophical and legal shift in the Native and scientific/museum communities.
At the state level, the Connecticut General Assembly passed legislation creating the Native American Heritage Advisory Council (NAHAC), providing tribes (federally and non-federally recognized) input to the state archaeologist and State Historic Preservation Office (SHPO) on matters of Indian burials and sacred sites (C.G.S. 10-388, et.seq.). Though many states have preservation mechanisms incorporating Native voices, NAHAC is uniquely poised as a state agency with advisory responsibilities for responding to issues protecting burials and sacred sites on private lands. As a result of this consultation process, Connecticut has reburied scores of Native American skeletal remains and funerary objects, including those housed in museums and accidently discovered during construction activities.
Fearing the loss of valuable artifacts and human skeletal collections, many museums have resisted NAGPRA mandates by searching for technicalities in the law. Many cases brought by Native American tribes seemed to represent differing views of resistance or respect by museum authorities, whose stance seemed not to recognize that this land originally belonged to the tribes.10 As a result, cogent arguments have to be made by Indigenous Peoples seeking the repatriation of their ancestors or artifacts of their heritage with the legislative burden on them to demonstrate patrimony. Museums simply did not want to give up what they felt they were preserving for all of humanity and the advancement of science regardless of whether the people who had a cultural continuity to those artifacts and skeletons objected. How were museums to educate the public to the diversity and artistic achievements of Native American cultures if their collections were returned to the tribes, who would then have the ability to keep them from the public if they deemed appropriate? How were we to advance scientific knowledge of the history of diseases and the migration of ancient peoples if Native skeletons were reburied?11
By the time the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) was enacted by the federal government, our office had been working with the Connecticut’s Indigenous Peoples for a number of years and had prepared artifact inventories for the state’s two federal-recognized tribes: The Mohegan Tribe of Connecticut and the Mashantucket Pequot Tribal Nation.
In 1996, we received requests for repatriation from both tribes. At the time, the Mohegan were actively working with ten museums to recover sacred items associated with their tribal history, including nineteen objects from the Norris L. Bull Collection, which were part of the Anthropological Collections at the University of Connecticut. Based on our inventories, all of the requested objects had been removed from 17th century Mohegan burials with the exception of one artifact, a two-faced soapstone effigy pipe that belonged to the Uncas family and had originally been taken from a significant cultural site referred to as “Uncas Cabin.”
Uncas was the first sachem (paramount chief) of the Mohegan Tribe and probably their most important cultural figure in the Post-Contact Period. Mohegan oral tradition indicates that pipes of this kind had been passed down long before Europeans arrived and are still in use within the Mohegan community. Mohegan traditional religious leaders indicated that present-day adherents for the practice of traditional Mohegan religion would use this particular steatite pipe.
Of the eighteen objects found with human remains, eight were recovered from the Royal Mohegan Burial Ground along today’s Elizabeth Street in Norwich, Connecticut. This well-known Mohegan cemetery had been badly disturbed through economic development and looting over the last 200 years. In the Bull Collection, grave goods from the Royal Mohegan Burial Ground consisted of a charm stone, a faceted orange glass bead, one trade axe, metal and stone pestles, a trade snuffbox, a copper kettle, a black angular stone pipe, and a paint pot with ocher staining, among other funerary objects.
Based on our inventory catalogue, there was no question that these cultural items belonged to the Mohegan Tribe and had been disrespectfully removed from graves and by unauthorized digging at Uncas’ Cabin. So, based on our own information, when tribal representatives requested repatriation from the Connecticut State Museum of Natural History at UConn, there was no question regarding the cultural affinity of the funerary objects. With both parties in agreement and after posting notice in the Federal Bulletin, the formal NAGPRA repatriation occurred in April 1996.
As far as early repatriations would go, this case represents one of the least contentious returns of Native artifacts at that time. Our records were undisputable as to the shared relationships between these items and the Mohegan Tribe, so there was no reason for us to question their cultural affiliation. But, I think there was another reason for the smooth transfer of these sensitive cultural items: a trustworthy relationship that had developed for over a decade. Along the way, I made mistakes and at times circumstances between our office and the Connecticut tribes became emotional and contentious. But I like to think that through it all, a confidence developed; one that came with time, respect, and personal empathy. We came to understand each other’s needs and we worked together for a common goal.
Unfortunately, in many NAGPRA cases, museum personnel and Native People may not know each other or have had the time to develop trusting relationships. In many cases, the road has been bumpy to say the least. Sometimes inventory records and cultural affiliations are not as clear; sometimes more than one tribe may make claim to cultural items. Regardless, there is no substitute for a personal rapport built on a history of communication and mutual respect. Only when we open dialogue with each other and appreciate and address concerns can we seek common ground and do what is right for everyone. Repatriation does not have to be contentious, but it does require dialogue, an understanding of motives, sensitivity, and the willingness to work together. I take heart that the repatriations of ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia and Afraid of Hawk are examples of that confidence and cooperation.
Through this compliant give-and-take, dialogues have opened up, forming pathways to learn from each other. I can testify that the science of archaeology has benefited from its association with Indigenous Peoples around the globe, and we hope that Native populations have also gained from the relationship. Most archaeologists have acquired a degree of sensitivity, and Native Americans have come to appreciate the contributions of archaeology to an understanding of their past.12 We are not enemies; we all make mistakes and are constantly learning. With any change of direction, it can be a long, slippery road to mutuality, but we are working together and making remarkable advancements. The pendulum has swung from exclusive control of Native American artifacts and human remains by museums and archaeologists toward Indian communities exerting their rights to have those objects and remains returned and reburied according to their own cultural prescriptions. We can envision a day when the pendulum will settle supported by shared respect and partnership.
The repatriations of Henry ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia and Albert Afraid of Hawk did not fall under NAGPRA review because they represented the private actions of individual families requesting the disinterment and re-interment of a genealogical ancestor. Had the reburials of Henry and Albert come under NAGPRA jurisdiction, consent would have been required from tribal governments, including lengthy reviews and a six-month wait after publication in the Federal Register of the intent to repatriate. The process would have been more formal and protracted. Be that as it may, all families have the right to disinter and reinter the remains of their ancestors. The deaths and burials of Henry and Albert, far from their homelands, were the result of historical happenstance. In returning them home, the completion of their journeys has had significant personal meanings for their families and Native communities, and, subsequently, special and surprisingly emotional connotations for the research teams that assisted in their repatriations. Although ‘Ōpūkaha‘ia and Afraid of Hawk will endure in Connecticut history, Hawai‘i and Pine Ridge will always be “home” and where their mortal remains should rightfully reside.
As I tell the story of these amazing young men and their families from a Western scientist’s perspective, it unavoidably relates my own personal development as an archaeologist. Like Henry and Albert, I unconsciously set out on a profound journey which