History is an unjust, black comedy. With biting sarcasm, this is a point that Vine Deloria, Jr. makes crystal clear in Custer Died for Your Sins: An Indian Manifesto. Published in 1969, this is most definitely a product of its time. However, while advocating for the specific needs of Native Americans during the American civil rights movement, Deloria also writes here a piece of social criticism that was well ahead of its time.

In fact, a great deal of what Deloria writes still holds true in the present. He is one of the first writers I have found to denounce ‘race’ as a social construct, as well as layout the social pitfalls of ‘stereotypes’ for the Native American community. Without using this specific verbiage, the theory is clearly here. Deloria paints a vivid image, and his language is dry, angry, and quite funny at times. There is a profound emotional honesty in his rage and apathy. I can see why this work is so important to so many people.

Writing on a number of topics, the most important chapter for me was “Anthropologists and Other Friends.” To be clear, Deloria does not consider Anthropologists friends (or allies), and thoroughly criticizes how researchers in the field academically benefit from Native Americans without really giving anything in return. As someone who has one degree in Anthropology and a second in Archaeological Heritage, I can 100% understand where he was coming from, especially in the 1960s. While I think that anthropology (and archaeology) can today be used as tools to help underserved communities, the history of the field is one of Western hegemony. Plain and simple.

Furthermore, as a Peruvian American (a halfsies mestiza), I completely understand the emotional anger at the root of much of Deloria’s criticism. Ironically, I chose to study anthropology and archaeology as these were the only fields in which I could learn about my own heritage, as well as non-Western cultures. But as Anthropology, the most scientific of the social sciences, is a study of the ‘other,’ it certainly can contribute to issues of paternalism, hegemony, and even appropriation if researchers fail to understand the humanity of the people they are studying.

While it can warm my heart to hear about the real love and genuine appreciation of my people’s culture, I will still cringe when I hear about folks “Eat, Pray, Love” experiences in Peru. I can’t not be offended by those who use other humans as props for their own character development, or value a culture’s objects over the people who create them. So, when Deloria exclaims, “…it would be wise for anthropologists to get down from their thrones of authority and PURE research and begin helping Indian tribes instead of preying on them. For the wheel of karma grinds slowly but it does grind finely. And it makes a complete circle” (100), I find no fault in this reasoning.

For all that Deloria gets right on the money, I must criticize his lack of empathy for other minority groups active during the Civil Rights movement. Grant it, many of his observations and anecdotes are centered on explaining what would work (and not work) specifically for Native Americans. However, he is quick to belittle much of what African Americans were doing as thuggish, which is an unfair characterization both ethically and realistically. After writing such scathing denouncements of harmful Native American stereotypes, Deloria is still guilty of harboring similar prejudices against minorities different from himself. That was disappointing.

It would be intellectually dishonest of me to praise Deloria’s visionary social criticism, without denouncing his own short-sightedness. Still, I tried my best to understand this work within its contextual point in time and space, and found it to be fairly illuminating on the whole. I would recommend the book, especially if you have native heritage, work with indigenous people, or just want to see the world from a different perspective.