Phil Deloria, the acclaimed historian who is the son of the famous Vine Deloria, reminds us in this book review that there are far greater problems with Thanksgiving than just the culinary crimes of t
This is the grave of Henry Dawes. Born in 1816 in Cummington, Massachusetts, Dawes went to Yale, where he graduated in 1839. He worked as a teacher and a newspaper editor. In 1842, he was admitted to
Efraín Ríos Montt, one of the worst human beings to ever live, is dead. Born in 1926 in Huehuetenango, Guatemala, Ríos Montt enrolled at the Military Academy of Guatemala in 1946. In 1951, he was s
This is the grave of Pushmataha. Probably born in 1764 in modern-day Mississippi, Pushmataha became a warrior at an early age among the Choctaw and fought in their many wars against their Creek enemie
Another October so it’s another Genocide Day, by which I mean of course the celebration of the genocidal murderer Christopher Columbus running into America like a drunk who stumbles toward his h
I spend too much time thinking about genocide. It’s a professional hazard—twentieth-century history is rather murderous—and has led to a disturbingly glib sense of gallows humor (we all have our
152 years ago today, the U.S. executed Apache leader Mangas Coloradas. Of course his body was then mutilated and subject to the pseudo-scientific racial testing of the day.
The borderlands historian Andrew Graybill’s latest book is an extremely readable saga into the great complexities of what it has meant to be mixed-race in the American West. The Red and the Whit