1491_ New Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus - Charles C. Mann [192]
In the most direct way, Indian liberty made indigenous villages into competitors for colonists’ allegiance. Colonial societies could not become too oppressive, because their members—surrounded by examples of free life—always had the option to vote with their feet. It is likely that the first British villages in North America, thousands of miles from the House of Lords, would have lost some of the brutally graded social hierarchy that characterized European life. But it is also clear that they were infused by the democratic, informal brashness of Native American culture. That spirit alarmed and discomfited many Europeans, toff and peasant alike. But it is also clear that many others found it a deeply attractive vision of human possibility.
Historians have been puzzlingly reluctant to acknowledge this contribution to the end of tyranny worldwide. Think of I. Bernard Cohen claiming that Enlightenment philosophers derived their ideas of freedom from Newtonian physics, when a plain reading of their texts shows that Locke, Hume, Rousseau, and Thomas Paine took many of their illustrations of liberty from native examples. So did the Boston colonists who held their anti-British Tea Party dressed as “Mohawks.” When others took up European intellectuals’ books and histories, images of Indian freedom exerted an impact far removed in time and space from the sixteenth-century Northeast. For much the same reason as their confreres in Boston, protesters in South Korea, China, and Ukraine wore “Native American” makeup in, respectively, the 1980s, 1990s, and the first years of this century.
So accepted now around the world is the idea of the implicit equality and liberty of all people that it is hard to grasp what a profound change in human society it represented. But it is only a little exaggeration to claim that everywhere that liberty is cherished—Britain to Bangladesh, Sweden to Soweto—people are children of the Haudenosaunee and their neighbors. Imagine—here let me now address non-Indian readers—somehow meeting a member of the Haudenosaunee from 1491. Is it too much to speculate that beneath the swirling tattoos, asymmetrically trimmed hair, and bedizened robes, you would recognize someone much closer to yourself, at least in certain respects, than your own ancestors?
AFTERWORD TO THE VINTAGE EDITION
When I set out to write 1491, my hope was that it would introduce readers to a subject that I found fascinating. For this reason I wanted to have a fuller bibliography than is usual in popular works—I wished to point people to the original sources, so that readers who were interested could find out more.
Most of the researchers whose work I covered have been very kind about 1491, but I knew from the beginning that few would be completely satisfied. Any book so broad in scope risks getting the details wrong; besides, it was written by a journalist, and journalists and scholars notoriously have different interests and styles.
As it turned out, the section that drew the greatest criticism was the coda. If I could write the book over again, I would go in more detail there, both to explain my point better and because the section exemplifies, to my mind, why the book’s subtitle is justified, even though (as some archaeologically sophisticated readers