<<Now, New Orleans will be rebuilt as one big "urban renewal" project,
  destroying the remaining working class homes and apartments, a sort of
  Disneyland for tourists and the wealthy.>>


Why Do They Hate You?

John Wayne and New Orleans Indians

   By ROXANNE DUNBAR-ORTIZ
   Counterpunch  September 7, 2005

"The Cavalry is coming!" announced a reporter on the Fox News Channel
when finally National Guardsmen trooped into downtown New Orleans on the
fourth day of apocalypse. I said to myself, "There they go again, racist
Fox News."

I switched channels and found reporters and government officials
repeating the same phrase, "The Cavalry has arrived." I should not have
been surprised; during the preceding two days, they had been referring
to the scene in brown water-lodge New Orleans, not as genocide as I saw
it, rather "the wild west."

Racism on top of racism, revealing the scaffolding of United States'
history, its intact structure bared, all the glitter and trappings
washed away.

New Orleans became "Indian Country," the military term for enemy
territory. "This place is going to look like Little Somalia," Brigadier
General Gary Jones, commander of the Louisiana National Guard's Joint
Task Force told Army Times, for an article published September 2, 2005.
"We're going to go out and take this city back. This will be a combat
operation to get this city under control." The Army Times report could
have been about Baghdad in stating: "While some fight the insurgency in
the city, others carry on with rescue and evacuation operations."

For days I have been thinking of Sitting Bull's observation that the
United States knows how to make everything, but doesn't know how to
distribute it. He was being generous in attributing the lack of
equitable distribution of goods to benign ignorance rather than to
design. But, he knew better. Once in Chicago while performing with
Buffalo Bill Cody's Wild West, Sitting Bull spoke through his translator
to the huge crowd of ragged white men, women, and barefoot children: "I
know why your government hates me. I am their enemy. But why do they
hate you?" The U.S. Cavalry, the 7th to be exact, Custer's old regiment,
massacred Sitting Bull's unarmed, starving people in December 1890 at
Wounded Knee, a few days after Sitting Bull himself had been shot and
killed by the federal Indian police.

The cavalry sent into the wild west of New Orleans had orders to pen in
the starving black population that had been abandoned in order to
protect property. It is not a sad or shameful day for the United States;
it is a typical day in the United States for the poor, magnified.

How ironic that the Superdome became a house of horrors for the
dispossessed for five grueling days. Most of the African Americans who
were herded into the Superdome came from the infamous New Orleans
projects and are descendents of those evicted from their neat little
homes in the working class district that was seized and bulldozed to
build, with public funds, the Superdome. Their cemetery was also
destroyed. Construction began in August 1971 and was completed four
years later.

I moved to New Orleans in December 1969 and lived there for more than
two years, leaving unwillingly after being arrested and escorted to
Texas, told never to return. I was then, as now, a social justice
activist. (This story is told in my Outlaw Woman: A Memoir of the War
Years, 1960-1975) In New Orleans and the surrounding area, the group I
was a part of did unionizing, women's liberation and antiwar organizing,
and community work. The big local issue at the time was opposition to
the proposed Superdome and to the "urban renewal" that would make it
possible, removing tens of thousands of working class residents and
transforming them into welfare recipients, a process taking place during
the 1960s in nearly every city in the United States, as well as in
copycat apartheid South Africa, where Cape Town's mixed working class
District 6 was similarly destroyed.

Working with the community against the Superdome in organizing
demonstrations, petitions, and boycotts, I learned about past hurricanes
and floods when gates were opened to flood the poor (black)
neighborhoods in order to spare the wealthy and white uptown. I learned
to hate the fun-seeking tourists in the French Quarter who never
bothered to notice the sixty percent of the poor of the city. And, once
it was built, I harbored an abiding hatred for the Superdome.

I returned to New Orleans in the spring of 1979 to give a paper at the
annual meeting of the Organization of American Historians, which was
held at the Hyatt Hotel that is attached to the Superdome, the first
time I had seen it. I reluctantly stayed in the hotel and never went
outside while there, because I was well aware the surrounding area was a
no-man's land where police did not dare to go, a low level insurgency
operating from the day the doors had opened four years earlier.

I kept warning others that they should not go out, even in taxis,
because they would be in danger returning. I tried to explain why, to no
avail. Sure enough, a young historian from Maine was shot and killed by
a sniper in front of the Hyatt after returning from fun in the French
Quarter. After that, the historians stayed inside until ready to go to
the airport in buses.

Now, New Orleans will be rebuilt as one big "urban renewal" project,
destroying the remaining working class homes and apartments, a sort of
Disneyland for tourists and the wealthy. It's been going in that
direction for forty years, as have other cities like Manhattan and San
Francisco. But, it may not be that easy with that insurgency which,
hopefully, will not capitulate.

-----
Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz is a longtime activist, university professor, and
writer. In addition to numerous scholarly books and articles she has
published two historical memoirs, Red Dirt: Growing Up Okie (Verso,
1997), and Outlaw Woman: A Memoir of the War Years, 1960-1975 (City
Lights, 2002). "Red Christmas" is excerpted from her forthcoming book,
Blood on the Border: A Memoir of the Contra War, South End Press,
October 2005. She can be reached at: [EMAIL PROTECTED]


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