matrilineal communities—in which men and women were equals—
to show them the error of their ways. Longhouse ceremonies of
thanksgiving, ceremonies meant to keep the world in balance, were
banned by law.
The people have endured the pain of being bystanders to the
degradation of their lands, but they never surrendered their
caregiving responsibilities. They have continued the ceremonies
that honor the land and their connection to it. The Onondaga
people still live by the precepts of the Great Law and still believe
that, in return for the gifts of Mother Earth, human people have
responsibility for caring for the nonhuman people, for stewardship
of the land. Without title to their ancestral lands, however, their
hands were tied to protect it. So they watched, powerless, as
strangers buried the Peacemaker’s footsteps. The plants, animals,
and waters they were bound to protect dwindled away, though the
covenant with the land was never broken. Like the springs above
the lake, the people just kept doing what they were called to do, no
matter what fate met them downstream. The people went on giving
thanks to the land, although so much of the land had little reason to
be thankful for the people.
Generations of grief, generations of loss, but also strength—the
people did not surrender. They had spirit on their side. They had
their traditional teachings. And they also had the law. Onondaga is
a rarity in the United States, a Native nation that has never
surrendered its traditional government, never given up its identity
nor compromised its status as a sovereign nation. Federal laws
were ignored by their own authors, but the Onondaga people still
live by the precepts of the Great Law.