The Wounded Knee Massacre and Its Legacy

In the late 19th century, America was a land of rapid expansion and profound cultural upheaval. The completion of the railroads opened the West to settlement and economic development, attracting waves of white settlers from the East.

However, this expansion came at a devastating cost to Native Americans, whose traditional ways of life were systematically dismantled. The period was marred by cultural clashes, broken treaties, and policies aimed at assimilating Native Americans into the dominant white culture.

The transformation of the Great Plains was especially profound. The vast herds of American bison that once roamed the plains were nearly exterminated, and the natural grasses were plowed under to plant crops.

Native American tribes, who had long called this land home, were forced onto reservations, often in areas that white settlers deemed least desirable. This forced relocation was often violent, and the U.S. government’s military might was used to quell resistance.

The policies of assimilation were rooted in a paternalistic view that saw Native American cultures as inferior and in need of “civilization.” This perspective, influenced by Enlightenment ideas and the concept of Manifest Destiny, justified the seizure of Native land and the erasure of their cultures.

The Indian Removal Act of 1830 and the subsequent Trail of Tears exemplified these policies, which were driven by both ideological and economic motivations. This tumultuous period laid the foundation for one of the most tragic events in American history: the Wounded Knee Massacre.

The story of Wounded Knee is a testament to the brutal consequences of these policies and serves as a poignant reminder of the ongoing struggle for justice and recognition that Native American communities continue to face.

The Ghost Dance Movement: A Symbol of Hope and Defiance

In the late 1880s, a spiritual movement known as the Ghost Dance emerged as a powerful symbol of resistance and hope among Native American communities. This movement was initiated by Wovoka, a shaman of the Northern Paiute tribe, who claimed to have received a vision from God during a solar eclipse on January 1, 1889.

Wovoka’s vision promised a return to a time before the arrival of white settlers, a bountiful land of love and peace where all evil would be banished and the remaining Indian tribes would be reunited.

The Ghost Dance was a spiritual practice that involved ritualistic dancing and the wearing of “ghost shirts,” which were believed to protect the dancers from bullets. It spread rapidly across the Great Plains, gaining significant traction among the Sioux and other tribes.

The movement was not just a spiritual revival but a way for Native Americans to reassert their sovereignty and resist the forced assimilation policies imposed by the U.S. government.

The Government’s Fear and Misunderstanding

The U.S. government saw the Ghost Dance movement as a threat, interpreting it as a call to arms against white settlers. This fear was exacerbated by the historical context of Indian Wars and the ideology of Manifest Destiny, which justified the forced removal of Native Americans from their ancestral lands.

The clash of cultures was profound, with white settlers and the U.S. military viewing Native American resistances with growing hostility.

In December 1890, the U.S. government’s anxiety about the Ghost Dance movement led to a crackdown on large Native American gatherings. The Seventh Cavalry Regiment, famous for its defeat at the Battle of the Little Bighorn, was dispatched to Pine Ridge Reservation to quell the perceived threat.

This confrontation would culminate in the Wounded Knee Massacre, a brutal event that marked the definitive end of Indian resistance to the encroachments of white settlers.

The Murder of Sitting Bull: Catalyst for Conflict

Chief Sitting Bull, a revered Hunkpapa Lakota leader, had led the Sioux to victory over the U.S. Army’s Seventh Cavalry Regiment at the Battle of the Little Bighorn. Afterward, he became an advocate for the Ghost Dance movement.

His unwavering commitment to preserving Native American traditions and his bold stance against encroachment by white settlers made him a powerful figure in the eyes of his people. As a leader who had inspired the unity of the Oceti Sakowin (Sioux) in their struggle against the encroaching settlers, his legacy was deeply intertwined with the broader Native American resistance movement.

On December 15, 1890, Indian agency police were sent to arrest Sitting Bull at his home on the Standing Rock Indian Reservation. The attempt to capture him was part of a broader effort to quell the Ghost Dance movement, which the U.S. government perceived as a threat.

The ensuing confrontation turned violent, and Sitting Bull was killed in the melee. His death was a pivotal event that heightened tensions across the Great Plains, sparking a chain reaction of violence and resistance.

The immediate aftermath of Sitting Bull’s murder was marked by a surge in military activity and increasing hostilities. The year 1890 was ending with a sense of dread and uncertainty for the Native American communities.

The U.S. Army, already on high alert over the Ghost Dance movement, saw the killing of Sitting Bull as a clear signal of escalating conflict. The massacre at Wounded Knee Creek would follow just two weeks later, marking a tragic culmination of these tensions.

Sitting Bull’s demise not only symbolized the loss of a key figure in the Native American community but also highlighted the deep divisions and the ongoing struggle for reconciliation between Native Americans and white settlers. His legacy continues to resonate, commemorating the resilience and defiance of a people facing overwhelming odds.

Bigfoot’s Leadership and the Flight for Safety

In the tumultuous winter of 1890, a Miniconjou Lakota chief named Big Foot became a pivotal figure in the events leading up to the Wounded Knee Massacre. His leadership in those critical days was marked by a desperate attempt to protect his people from the escalating tensions between Native American tribes and the U.S. military.

Fears of the Ghost Dance movement had spread from the U.S. government to those moving westward, who saw the ritual as a call to arms against encroaching white settlement. Big Foot, aware that the risk of open hostility was growing, sought to lead his band to safety.

He decided to lead his people to the Pine Ridge Reservation, where they could presumably find shelter from the impending conflict. However, this move was not without risk.

The Seventh Cavalry Regiment, formed in 1866, had a complex history deeply intertwined with the Native American conflicts in the Great Plains. Under the command of Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer, the regiment gained notoriety for its defeat at the Battle of the Little Bighorn in 1876.

In December 1890, the Seventh Cavalry was dispatched to Pine Ridge Reservation with orders to disarm any Native American gatherings. This deployment was part of a broader effort to quell the perceived threat of the Ghost Dance movement.

The U.S. military’s motivations were driven by a desire to assert control over Native American populations and to enforce the policies of assimilation and forced relocation.

Despite these dangers, Big Foot’s decision was driven by a profound sense of duty to protect his people from these encroaching threats. The band’s move was a desperate attempt to find sanctuary in a landscape increasingly hostile to Native American sovereignty.

Big Foot’s actions in the days leading up to the massacre reflect the resilience and determination of a leader fighting to preserve his people’s way of life in the face of overwhelming adversity.

On December 28, 1890, Big Foot’s ragtag band was intercepted by Major Samuel M. Whitside and his detachment of the Seventh Cavalry near Porcupine Butte. The events that followed, culminating in the Wounded Knee Massacre, would forever alter the fate of Big Foot’s people.

And to that end, Major Whitside returned to the Seventh Cavalry’s bivouac to report his scouting success.

The Tense Disarmament Order

On the following day, December 29, the Seventh Cavalry Regiment, under the command of Colonel James W. Forsyth, surrounded the Miniconjou camp near Wounded Knee Creek. The air was thick with tension as the Lakota men, women, and children were herded into a clearing.

The scene was charged with emotion as the Lakota, already weary and suspicious of the military’s intentions, were ordered to surrender their firearms in order to comply with the disarmament order. The soldiers, equipped with four Hotchkiss guns positioned on a hilltop, were visibly on edge, expecting resistance from the Native Americans.

The process was tense, and it was during this confrontation that Black Coyote, a deaf Miniconjou warrior, became the focal point of the ensuing chaos. According to various accounts, Black Coyote was either unwilling or unable to surrender his rifle due to his deafness and confusion.

When soldiers attempted to seize his weapon, the rifle accidentally discharged, leading to a sudden frenzy of gunfire. His “resistance” had sparked a skirmish, and the fuse had been lit by accident.

Instantly, the air was filled with flying lead as the Hotchkiss guns fired indiscriminately into the surrounded and outnumbered Lakota. Those guns fired at a rate of 50 (fifty) 2-pound shells per minute, devastating the defenseless Miniconjou men, women, and children.

The soldiers showed no discrimination, targeting everyone in the camp. Scores of Miniconjou were shot and killed in the first few moments, including Big Foot.

Those who attempted to flee were cut down by mounted soldiers or caught in the crossfire of the Hotchkiss guns.

Turning Hawk, a Lakota who was not present when the killing took place but visited the site afterward, described how the bodies themselves told the story of the senseless massacre: “All the men who were in a bunch were killed right there, and those who escaped that first fire got into the ravine, and as they went along up the ravine for a long distance they were pursued on both sides by the soldiers and shot down, as the dead bodies showed afterwards.

“The women were standing off at a different place from where the men were stationed, and when the firing began, those of the men who escaped the first onslaught went in one direction up the ravine, and then the women, who were bunched together at another place, went entirely in a different direction through an open field, and the women fared the same fate as the men who went up the deep ravine.”

The final death toll was staggering. Over 250 Lakota Sioux were killed, many of them women and children.

Handling the Dead

The winters in South Dakota are known for their extreme cold and the harsh conditions. And so, the burial process was marked by both the practical challenges of dealing with frozen bodies and the emotional toll on those who had to perform the task.

On January 1, 1891, a burial party led by the U.S. Army unceremoniously buried 146 Miniconjou in a mass grave on Cemetery Hill, where the Hotchkiss guns had been positioned during the massacre. This location today serves as a solemn reminder of the tragedy that occurred at Wounded Knee.

The soldiers first collected the bodies, many of which were naked, their clothes having been blown off during the battle. The burial party heaped their bodies onto wagons, creating a stark and haunting image that was later captured by photographers.

These photographs, which included scenes of women and children undoubtedly killed in a non-combat context, were later used as postcards.

Witness Accounts and Immediate Aftermath

The Wounded Knee Massacre left behind a trail of survivors, their stories a poignant reminder of the day’s brutal slaughter. Among these survivors were children, who bore witness to the unthinkable violence that claimed the lives of their families and community.

Joseph Horn Cloud, a sixteen-year-old at the time of the massacre, recounted his experience to historian Eli Ricker. His account provides a harrowing glimpse into the chaos and desperation that erupted during the massacre.

Horn Cloud’s parents, two brothers, and a sister were among the fatalities, and he himself narrowly escaped with his life. His testimony, recorded by Ricker, captures the traumatic impact of the event on those who lived through it.

Dewey Beard, another survivor, described the moment of Black Coyote’s gun discharge and the ensuing chaos. Beard, who later changed his name from Wasumaza, remembered the deaf warrior’s intentions to put down his gun, but instead, it went off when soldiers grabbed him. Beard’s account underscores the sudden and devastating turn of events that led to the massacre.

Charles A. Eastman, a Sioux physician, also witnessed the aftermath: “We saw the frozen bodies lying close together and piled one upon another. I counted eighty bodies of men who had been in the council and who were almost as helpless as the women and babes when the deadly fire began, for nearly all their guns had been taken from them.

“A reckless and desperate young Indian fired the first shot when the search for weapons was well underway and, immediately, the troops opened fire from all sides, killing not only unarmed men, women, and children, but their own comrades who stood opposite them, for the camp was entirely surrounded.”

The stories of these survivors are not just personal narratives but also historical records that confront the brutal reality of the Wounded Knee Massacre.

It took decades for the truth to rise above U.S. propaganda regarding the events at Wounded Kee Creek. The massacre stands today as a symbol of the inhumanity of U.S. government policy toward Native Americans.

Medals of Honor: A Bitter Legacy

One of the most egregious examples of the propaganda surrounding the Wounded Knee Massacre is the awarding of 20 Medals of Honor, less than one year later, to soldiers who participated in the slaughter. These medals, the highest military honors in the United States, have long been vocally challenged by Native American activists

And in 2024, Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin has ordered a review of these medals, recognizing the need to re-examine the actions of these soldiers. His move is part of a broader effort, haphazard and always politically-contrived, to rectify historical injustices inflicted upon Native American communities.

Rep. Kaialiʻi Kahele, who sponsored the legislation aimed at rescinding the medals, emphasizes the importance of this action: “As Congress continues to consider the FY23 NDAA, the most important defense legislative vehicle that is debated each year, we must remind ourselves of the uncomfortable truth that this land – the United States – was taken from indigenous peoples.

“Although we can never undo the irreparable damage inflicted on indigenous peoples, we can do our best to respect their lands, empower our communities and acknowledge the truth behind our shared history.”

A review panel will assess each soldier’s actions, considering whether they meet the standards of valor and honor that the Medal of Honor represents. Native American veterans and advocacy groups have long argued that the medals awarded for actions at Wounded Knee tarnish the integrity of the Medal of Honor and stain the reputation of those who truly live up to its standards.

The American Indian Movement’s Stand

Almost 90 years later, in February 1973, approximately 200 armed members of the American Indian Movement (AIM) and Oglala Lakota took over the town of Wounded Knee, South Dakota. Now located on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, the location was chosen for its symbolic value.

The occupation was a direct response to internal conflicts within the Oglala Sioux Tribe and the perceived corruption of its tribal chairman, Richard Wilson. AIM activists, led by figures such as Dennis Banks and Russell Means, sought to oust Wilson, whom they saw as a puppet of the U.S. government.

Their movement had grown out of the Civil Rights groundswell that swept across America in the 1960s, and gained momentum by seizing societal attention to the longstanding issues of injustice and mistreatment faced by Native American communities.

The goals of this occupation were multifaceted. AIM loudly demanded better living conditions, control over reservation lands and mineral rights, restoration of ancient tribal customs, and the power to specify curriculums in Indian grade schools.

The situation was incredibly tense, and the confrontation quickly captured national media attention. This gave the protestors a wide platform to bring both current and historical grievances to light.

Throughout the 71-day standoff, AIM and its supporters were encircled by U.S. Marshals, FBI agents, and other law enforcement agencies. The occupation resulted in the deaths of at least two Native Americans and an FBI agent, as well as numerous injuries and arrests.

Despite the tragic outcomes, the event galvanized broader support for Native American rights. It also led to significant changes in federal policies on Native sovereignty and practices surrounding violated treaties and improving living conditions on reservations.

Lessons Learned and Moving Forward

The Wounded Knee Massacre and the 1973 occupation, though separated by nearly a century, underscore the systemic injustices and brutal treatment that Native American communities have faced at the hands of the U.S. government.

The broader implications of Wounded Knee are profound. They highlight the need for a deeper understanding and recognition of the historical injustices that continue to impact Native American communities today.

The occupation in 1973 was a pivotal moment in the Native American civil rights movement, drawing international attention to the unsafe living conditions and generations of mistreatment by federal and local agencies.

Despite progress, the struggle for Native American rights is far from over. Many communities continue to face significant challenges, including inadequate healthcare, poor housing, and systemic discrimination.

In the words of Madonna Thunder Hawk, an AIM activist and medic during the 1973 occupation, “The standoff at Wounded Knee changed our lives in terms of our responsibility to come back and serve our community—to fight against racism and to fight against policies that are hurting our people”.