The American Revolution Was About Land, Not Liberty

July 4th is the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. The occasion has turned into a debate over our country’s origins. Trump is planning “Freedom 250” which promotes patriotism through nation-wide events including a National Garden of American Heroes, and a UFC fight on the White House lawn. Trump’s critics claim the administration’s whitewashing of US history is part of their authoritarian playbook. As people debate which version of the story we should tell, as a Native person I can’t help but notice both sides leave us out. And as I’ve dug into the history myself, I realized the Native part of the story explains more than our past. It explains our current political crisis.

Alongside their lofty Enlightenment ideals, our founders betrayed their deep hatred for Indigenous people.

When most Americans think about the Declaration of Independence, they think about its most famous passage affirming the right to: “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” Yet, at the time, the Declaration was also a political document designed to justify—and even inspire—rebellion. The bulk of the document is a list of grievances against the British Crown. The founders meant to ignite anger and inspire rebellion against the Crown. And it worked. In Philadelphia, the assembled crowd burnt the King’s Coat of Arms. In New York, they melted a lead statue of King George and made bullets.

To many historians, that list of grievances has an order, starting with smaller affronts and ending with the most significant ones. The last complaint, the crescendo in our founders’ reasons for rebellion, reads as follows: “He has excited… the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.” In the Declaration of Independence, Native people are called savages. Alongside their lofty Enlightenment ideals, our founders betrayed their deep hatred for Indigenous people.

This passage raises uncomfortable questions. We have been told the colonists fought the Revolutionary War over taxation and representation. But our founders were most angry about—in their own words—was Native people. How did we all miss that? Why were the founders so angry about Native peoples? And what does the true story of the Revolution reveal about our country?

The answer lies in the struggle over Native land.

Years before the Boston Massacre or the “shot heard round the world,” colonists were firing guns at British troops over Native land.

After an Indigenous uprising called Pontiac’s Rebellion, England was looking at the possibility of another war in North America. The Crown was already struggling to pay for the Seven Years War—a sprawling, global conflict—and could not afford to fight another one. To make peace with Indigenous Nations, the King of England told colonists they could not move west of the Appalachian mountains; all that land was reserved for tribes. This was the Proclamation of 1763.

To the colonists, this was unacceptable. Wealthy colonists like George Washington made money through land speculation, and this deal threatened their bid for power and wealth. The proclamation upset regular and poor people too; often people who couldn’t afford private property squatted on Indigenous land.

The conflict became violent. When British troops attempted to bring trade goods to Indigenous leaders to cement their peace accords, a backcountry militia attacked them. Years before the Boston Massacre or the “shot heard round the world,” colonists were firing guns at British troops over Native land.

Yet, when the founding story of our country is told, most often, Native Americans are left out. Even in contemporary works of US history–like Jill Lepore’s These Truths–Native people only get passing mention. The result is a picture of our country’s founding that is not only inaccurate, but misleading. As historian Ned Blackhawk (Western Shoshone) puts it, “If we don’t understand the full context in which our nation was founded, we won’t understand the full context in which our nation now finds itself.”

Native history is often treated like a tragic, distant, forgotten chapter of the American story, but it is foundational.

As a Native person, I have realized that I don’t fit into the story of US democracy. But I am still part of the origin story of this country.

The most enduring myth of our national origin is that our founders created a democracy. But that is only half the story. They also wanted an empire. As a result, they built both: a democracy for themselves, and an empire that could control the lands and lives of Indigenous people who had no say. They called it an “empire of liberty.” The phrase captures a deep contradiction that has been part of the US since the founding. While part of our government operated through elections, constitutional norms, and balances of power, another part governed through top-down, tyrannical rule. And here is the American secret: that empire never went away. Today, when Trump wants to detain migrants, bomb Iran, abduct the leader of Venezuela, deploy the National Guard to US cities or deny citizenship to people born here, he is drawing on legal precedents set by what our country did to Native Americans. The reason a US President can wage war without congressional authorization goes back to early wars with Indigenous nations. To defend Trump’s executive order seeking to end birthright citizenship, his lawyers have argued that the 14th Amendment never guaranteed citizenship to everyone born on US soil, because it explicitly excluded Native people—which is true.

As a Native person, I have realized that I don’t fit into the story of US democracy. But I am still part of the origin story of this country. We cannot understand the United States without Indigenous people. Because if democracy is one origin story of the US, then conquest and empire is another. Indigenous history does not just reveal where the US came from. It helps explain the tensions over power, authority, and freedom that continue to shape the country today.