It has been just over a year
since a handful of activists from the American Indian Movement (AIM), the
Mendota Dakota Nation, and Earth First! established a protest camp to stop
the reroute of Highway 55 through
Minnehaha
Park in Minneapolis. Despite the harsh winter, brutal police raids, bad
press, jail, in-fighting, and the demolition of homes and parklands by the
Minnesota Department of Transportation (MnDOT) a living burial continues. It is the strength of the
Highway 55 coalition, members say, that has made their stand, the longest
running urban occupation in American history, possible. recent
demonstrations at destruction sites have resulted in dozens of arrests and
many column inches in the mainstream press. Reroute protesters, however, say
news coverage has been unfair. The real story of the Highway 55 encampment,
they say, has yet to be told.
FREE STATE: A SPIRITUAL MOVEMENT
It began is a spiritual movement to save a sacred site: four bur oak trees
planted in a diamond representing the four directions. The site been used by
the Dakota for generations, first as a burial scaffold, later as a place for
ceremony where prayers were made for ancestors whose bones lie beneath the
soil. While efforts to stop the expansion of highway 55 through Minnehaha
park span four decades, the current movement was born last July in
Pipestone, Minnesota during a sundance, the Dakota ceremony of thanksgiving
and renewal.
Bear, a sundancer, member of the
Northern Cheyenne nation, and
long-time organizer of AIM Patrol in Minneapolis, says he emerged after four
days of dancing and fasting with a renewed commitment to the red road. It
was then he met Jim Anderson and Leo Ronneng, leaders of the Mendota
Mdewakanton Dakota Nation, a federally unrecognized tribe whose name means
"the joining of the waters," and whose oral tradition tells of a people
whose genesis isthe place where the Mississippi and Minnesota
Rivers
meet (known today as Minnehaha
Park).
Anderson and Ronneng said they had struck a pact with Earth First!, a loose
knit group of international activists whose uncompromising (though
non-violent) defense of the environment has made them corporate America's
enemy number one. They needed Bear's help too.
The Dakota would provide the moral vision, Earth First! the dedicated,
experienced manpower, and Bear, with his eleven years of protecting Indians
on the streets of Phillips, the security. The goal, said the Mendota
leaders, was to establish a camp that would both raise awareness of the
proposed desecration of their lands, and get in the way of the destruction.
"After Jim and Leo took me to see the trees I quit my job working for AIM
patrol and gave up my apartment," says Bear. "I'm a sundancer. I love mother
earth and try to live in a traditional way. I wanted to help save these
trees here. I don't want to see them digging up our ancestors in that burial
ground back there."

On August 10, 1998,
a tipi was erected and a sacred fire lit in the yard of a home scheduled for
demolition. A sweat lodge was put-up, soon after, and a kitchen built. A
growing number of activist, some living in tents, others in vacated homes,
took over the block and declared the area a "FreeState." As summer gave way
to fall, the reality of living outside in subfreezing temperature set-in,
and with it a realization that the Dakota and Earth First!, working
together, made a powerful team. It was the kind of coalition that had rarely
been seen in America: the joining of indigenous and non-native people whose
shared vision and complimentary talents could combine to create a better
future for all. A new understanding surfaced in the camp. No longer was the
central battle in the Americas being waged white against non-white. The war
today had nothing to do with outmoded ideas of race and colonialism, rather,
it was corporate America and its military wing, the United States
government, that had to be stopped. Indians and common people of all races,
if they were to survive in the United States as anything but workers,
consumers, or prisoners, must work together.
Cricket, a non-Indian camper, says the experience of his first Inipi (sweatlodge
ceremony) at the Free State was galvanizing . "I can't find the words...it
was an intense emotional thing. I feel so grateful to have been invited to
participate with people willing to share the Dakota culture and traditions.
It's a beautiful thing when you understand what it means that we all breath
the same air and drink the same water."
A COMPLIMENT TO OUR STRENGTH
On December 10 the Highway 55 coalition received what one protester called
"a compliment to our strength," when over six hundred police officers from
three agencies stormed the camp in a predawn raid. It was the largest
display of police power this area has ever seen. Thirty-six people were
arrested, many pepper-sprayed even as they offered no resistance. Police
demolished the sweat lodge, impounded religious objects, and extinguished
the sacred fire. That raid cost over $386,000 - more than $10,000 per arrest
- a fee Minneapolis was forced to pay after the legislature refused to pick
up the tab. While campers were in jail the city razed the houses on the
disputed block, a day many in the coalition recall as the struggles' lowest.
20
The Free State was reestablished within
days, three blocks south of the old camp in one of the last remaining oak
savannahs in the Twin Cities, near the site of the four sacred trees. A
three story star-shaped sleeping quarters was constructed out of tarps and
scrap wood by members of Earth First!. The sweat lodge and sacred fire were
rekindled, as was the resolve of the coalition.
As winter wore on an increasing number of citizens from a wide variety of
backgrounds joined the coalition. Neighborhood residents, environmentalists,
historians, and academics began showing up to the weekly meetings. The
ever-broadening group held a spectrum of views on how to fight the reroute.
Leaderless by design, they sought consensus on tactics never fully in
agreement but always respectful of the Mendota Dakota's insistence on
non-violence. The coalition was tested when a zealous Earth First! activist
named Bob Greenberg pushed a pie into the face of a state senator for her
refusal to hold hearings on the reroute issue. The media portrayed the event
as a violent attack, setting off a wave of condemnation among some vocal
coalition members who distanced themselves by calling for Greenberg's
ouster.
Dubbing himself "Agent Pecan of the Biotic Baking Brigade," Greenberg says,
"On Tuesday, March 30th I gently
pressed an $18 vegan lemon coconut cream pie into the face of state
senator Carol Flynn. It is being portrayed erroneously as a violent act
committed out of rage. This was a prank not intended to intimidate or hurt
anyone."20
Ojibwe elder Darlene Jackson was meeting
with Flynn in the minutes prior to Greenberg's prank. "Carol Flynn told me
she would put the reroute on the floor and let the Legislature reconsider
it. There was a young man in her office, an anarchist page, who knew Flynn
had made a deal with MnDot and never intended to keep her word. That
anarchist page called Bob Greenberg and then it happened. After she got the
pie, Flynn pushed Bob and he fell against me and I went down those marble
stairs. I strained ligaments in my neck and my health hasn't been the same
since." But when prosecutors called her to testify against Greenberg,
Jackson told the court, " I understand Bob's feelings and I forgive him. I
don't blame Bob for what happened."
Others in the struggle embraced
Greenberg for his actions. "It's going to take all sorts of people taking
all sorts of steps to stop this thing, "said one activist. "If this brings
further attention to the issue then I applaud him."
Greenberg is serving 60 days work release for the incident.
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