The Hundred Years War – a long time to be fighting a war, a war that history has romanticized to a degree that was little more than a power struggle by opposing factions to secure control of France.
The hundred years war pales in comparison to the longevity of the five hundred plus years war that has raged between opposing factions in this country, this hemisphere – and like the Hundred Years War began with the Spanish, French, and the English attempting to impose a throne to govern the nations, the hemisphere.
The English were routed and “governance” seized by the victors, also known as colonists, who immediately established their own throne to direct a war of attrition against the nations which following generations would participate in.
Numerous treaties have been signed during this war and not a one of them honored, so the “war” continues as a people seek their rightful place in a land once theirs where allegedly all men are created equal and endowed with certain inalienable rights.
Our rights consist of being confined on reservations, of the inability to adjudicate anything other than “lesser” crimes, of an enforced generational dependency and lack of sovereignty.
Our future and well being dictated by a House filled with corrupt politicians so far removed from an understanding of the indigenous experience, and so indifferent as to be criminal in nature – yet they persist, propelled in their flagrant ignorance and sense of entitlement by the very problems they have created.
Casualties continue to mount on our side of the ledger with no burials in a national cemetery, no flags waving amid pomp and circumstance.
No flag draped coffin for the stillborn child, no printed obituary for those succumbing to the effects of toxins in the ground water, mold in shacks that have come to replace traditional housing, or the result of drugs and alcohol introduced to us long ago.
As a people we have have no need of flags or obituaries, nor mold, toxins, drugs, and alcohol, yet they abide in our presence, like the reapers hand resting on our shoulder, a sword hanging over our head by a thread.
Battles are no longer fought on the plains, deserts, or mountains, now they are fought in the courtrooms where again we find ourselves out gunned and out manned, only this time the world is able to witness the event and the outcome – hopefully that will work in our favor, though world opinion is seen by government as little more than something to manipulation. To preen over when favorable and denounce when it isn’t.
Some may find the word war inappropriate, if they prefer they can substitute the word occupation, either way though the results and the reality remain the same, both born of aggression and a desire to dominate.
In a land that spews platitudes of justice and nation building upon the world stage we await both.