The Historical Etymology of "Redskin"

I'm not particularly interested in football. Let me rephrase that: I actively dislike football. Until this weekend, I was fairly disinterested in the Washington Redskins name controversy. I figured it was one of those conflicts like the Iran-Iraq War in which, to quote Henry Kissinger, "It's a shame they can't both lose."

This weekend, one of my friends from my undergraduate years drew my interest with this claim:

"In case you don't know, "Redskin" refers to the bloody scalps the U.S. federal government paid bounty for. Scalps of Native Americans. $75 paid for the scalp of a Dakota in 1863. $75."

I had never, ever, ever, heard this claim. I was absolutely stunned, because this version ran contrary to everything I had ever heard about the term "redskin". So, I decided to do some research.

I started with Wikipedia. I know, "boo, hiss, Wikipedia!", but the thing about Wikipedia is that it tends to be a decent place to find sources. The most authoritative source that everyone else seems to claim appears to be Smithsonian linguist Ives Goddard. To quote Wikipedia:

The Oxford English Dictionary (OED) cites its earliest use in a 1699 letter from an English colonialist, Samuel Smith, living in Hadley, Massachusetts, which supposedly contains the following passage: "Ye firste Meetinge House was solid mayde to withstande ye wicked onsaults of ye Red Skins."[1] [1] Goddard, Ives (2005). "I AM A RED-SKIN: The Adoption of a Native American Expression (1769-1826)". Native American Studies (19:2): 1. Retrieved July 1, 2014. (link)

Goddard also notes that "the actual origin of the word is entirely benign and reflects more positive aspects of relations between Indians and whites."

So, where does the "redskin-as-scalp" definition come from? According to what appears to be a well researched article by Adrian Jawort entitled "Redskins Not So Black and White":

This conclusion originates from American Indian activist Suzan Shown Harjo (Cheyenne and Muscogee) and a National Congress of American Indians’ brief. In the Pro Football vs. Harjo trademark case in a bid to force the Washington Redskins to change their name, Harjo and six others made it to the U.S. Court of Appeals for D.C. before the Supreme Court eventually rejected their longstanding case in the 2009. And while that fight still goes on via Blackhorse v. Pro-Football, Inc., Harjo’s team had previously claimed “redskin” derived from referring to bloody Indian scalps during the onset of the French and Indian War. Particularly cited is England’s 1755 Phips Proclamation, a declaration of war against the non-British allied Penobscot Nation stating: “... For every Scalp of such Female Indian or Male Indian under the Age of twelve years that Shall be killed and brought in as Evidence of their being killed as aforesaid, Twenty pounds.” As appalling and emotionally appealing as it is, the Phips Proclamation doesn’t include the words “red skins” in it. Claiming “scalps” automatically means “red skins” is revisionist history, to be blunt. It was the Native Americans who first used the term “red” in order to differentiate between indigenous, white, and black people. When not referring to their individual and other tribes collectively, why would they use Indian, Native, or other adjectives to describe their obvious skin differences back then?

So, I challenged my friend to produce some actual sources to corroborate the claim. She produced two sources. The first was a blurb from an 1897 edition of the Los Angeles Herald. It lists the bounty on a scalp, but critically fails to link the term "redskin" with "scalp". As such, its content is awful, but completely irrelevant to the "redskin-as-scalp" debate. The second source she provided from Esquire - not exactly an objective source - and is provocatively titled "Update: Yes, A 'Redskin' Does, In Fact, Mean the Scalped Head of a Native American, Sold, Like a Pelt, for Cash". Its sub-headline reads: "Many have claimed that our story about the etymology of "Redskin" was wrong. This document from 1863 proves otherwise."

Except... No, it doesn't. The document reads:

"The state reward for dead Indians has been increased to $200 for every red-skin sent to Purgatory. This sum is more than the dead bodies of all the Indians east of the Red River are worth."

At most, this document offers a vague suggestion that, in the mid-1800's, a parallel definition of "redskin" may have been used. However, the phrase about "dead bodies of all the Indians" suggests that the use of "red-skin" in this passage actually refers to the entire corpse, rather than the just the scalp. In so doing, this "proof" actively undermines the case the article's author is trying to make. If this is the best evidence that the "redskin-as-scalp" advocates have, then they have failed to make a compelling case.

Beyond failing to make the "redskin-as-scalp" connection, these sources come too late in American history to corroborate the case for this etymology. By 1897, Europeans and their descendants had been in contact with the American Indians for nearly three centuries. And, as Goddard's study notes, the earliest known instance of the term "redskin" dates back as far as 1699. I'm not ruling out the possibility that a second definition of "redskin" pertaining to scalps arose later, but such a suggestion simply isn't in evidence. There's also the inconvenient detail that virtually no one is even aware of the "redskin-as-scalp" claim, so the accusation that Americans who support the continuity of the team name are actively or passively supporting such an odious definition is simply ridiculous.

None of this is meant to defend the treatment that the American Indians suffered in the 18th and 19th centuries. I also suspect that no one would argue that the term "redskin" isn't antiquated, or that there aren't at least some folks who find the term offensive. However, those who are passionate about wanting the team to change its name will have to come up with something more compelling than unsubstantiated revisionist history if they expect to convince anyone. They should also be careful with such historical claims, because in this case, my research of the historical record has actually pushed me - exactly the sort of dispassionate observer whom they should be trying to convince - further toward believing that this is another manufactured controversy. Regardless, I still wish that they'd just convert the Redskins' stadium into a hockey rink.

More Sourcing on the Dhofar Rebellion

I've elsewhere, extensively, about my dissertation on the Dhofar Rebellion. A few weeks ago, I wrote about how I'd found a bunch of new sources by using some variable search strings. Most of my research in 2012 and 2013 dealt with sources specifically focused on the Dhofar Rebellion. As my follow-on research won't confine me to fifteen thousand words (including sources), I'm in a position to expand my sources and coverage to other topics.

As such, I was very interested to find Dhofar discussed (usually just mentioned) in relation to other conflicts, countries, and such. Most accounts of the conflict (at least those written in English) are written by British nationals, many of whom served in the conflict. Consequently, they focus on the British perspective, and to a slightly lesser extent the Omani perspective. The Iranians and Jordanians typically get mentioned, primarily the Iranians because they did some of the heaviest fighting from their positions in western Dhofar in the later stages of the war. Jordan's participation is mentioned, but seldom in any detail. On the opposing side, many sources mention South Yemen, the Soviet Union, and China in passing, but that's essentially it. So, I've been pleased to find some sources that discuss how the conflict fits into the greater regional and international history of the time.

In doing the recent research, I've learned that in addition to those countries already listed, a number of other states played one role or another. The rebels received support at various times, and in varying degrees, from Cuba, Iraq, and Libya, in addition to various Palestinian organizations. By contrast, Sultan Qaboos received either active or tacit support from the United Arab Emirates and the United States. Saudi Arabia supported the rebels in the early sixties, but eventually reversed itself to support the Sultan. One source cites Kuwait as the source of some weapons bound for Dhofar that were intercepted in 1965, but whether these were dispatched by the Kuwaiti government is left unclear; regardless, the Kuwaitis supported the Sultan during the major combat phase of the conflict.

Last weekend, I decided to go through my collected sources and write a synopsis of Jordanian involvement as the first step in a future chapter on participation in the Dhofar Rebellion, and its international ramifications. Here's the final (draft) product:

Jordan The Jordanian role in Dhofar is frequently mentioned, but seldom in great detail. In fact, Jordan's contribution was significant. Perhaps most significant was King Hussein's overt support of Sultan Qaboos, which carried significant political weight. While the Hashemite Kingdom's military contribution was smaller than that of Iran, the Jordanians provided a number of force multiplying capabilities, without which the counterinsurgents may not have been able to win the war.

The first of these contributions was a trio of intelligence officers, who arrived shortly after the SAF took the Simba plateau overlooking Sarfait in 1972.[1] The was followed shortly thereafter by an infantry regiment[2] and a special forces battalion in 1972, the latter of which was led by the formidable Major Tahseen.[3] The Jordanian special forces played a pivotal role in Operation Himaar, among other actions.[4][5]

In December of 1973, Jordanian combat engineers joined Royal Engineers and SAF pioneer platoons to construct the Hornbeam Line.[6] The Jordanian engineer battalion was stationed at the new air base at Midway/Thamarit.[7]

In 1975, King Hussein provided the Sultan with a gift of thirty Hawker Siddeley Hunter aircraft. The Hunter's capabilities, superior relative to those of the Strikemaster, allowed for cross-border strikes.[8] In addition to these duties in Dhofar, Jordan also hosted Omani personnel at its military training facilities, and Jordanian troops occasionally joined the Emirates to provide static guard services in Northern Oman. The latter provision allowed more Omani units to serve in the active theater.[9]

Sources: [1] McKeown, John; Britain and Oman: The Dhofar War and its Significance; University of Cambridge; Cambridge; 1981; pp. 70; (link)
[2] Zimmerman, Frank H.; Why insurgents fail examining post-World War II failed insurgencies utilizing the prerequisites of successful insurgencies as a framework; Naval Postgraduate School; Monterey, CA; March 2007; pp. 111-112; (link)
[3] Akehurst, John; We Won a War: The Campaign in Oman 1965-1975; M. Russell; Salisbury, Wiltshire; 1982; pp. 120
[4] Akehurst, John; We Won a War: The Campaign in Oman 1965-1975; M. Russell; Salisbury, Wiltshire; 1982; pp. 147
[5] McKeown, John; Britain and Oman: The Dhofar War and its Significance; University of Cambridge; Cambridge; 1981; pp. 89; (link)
[6] McKeown, John; Britain and Oman: The Dhofar War and its Significance; University of Cambridge; Cambridge; 1981; pp. 80; (link)
[7] Worrall, James J.; State Building and Counterinsurgency in Oman: Political, Military and Diplomatic Relations at the End of Empire; I.B. Tauris & Co. Ltd.; London; 2014; pp. 285; (link)
[8] McKeown, John; Britain and Oman: The Dhofar War and its Significance; University of Cambridge; Cambridge; 1981; pp. 90; (link)
[9] Metz, Helem Chapin; Persian Gulf States: A Country Study; Library of Congress; Washington, D.C.; 1993; (link)

A few notes:

1) That part about the Jordanian infantry regiment? I spent half of my Saturday trying to find the source where I had found that. I'd read it on Saturday, then lost track of it despite reviewing literally every source I had gone through. Repeated, slightly altered Google searches failed to produce any results, and it was driving me crazy. I finally found it. Part of the problem was that I was searching for "infantry battalion", not "infantry regiment", but several of my searches should have alleviated that. When I eventually copied the string of text and plugged it into Google, it still didn't produce the correct search results.

2) On that same topic of being unable to successfully search, I spent at least as much time trying to find a picture and a tidbit of data on King Hussein's gift of thirty-plus Hawker Siddeley Hunter aircraft to the Sultanate. I had originally found it on my work computer, then went home for the weekend, and couldn't find it. It was driving me absolutely crazy. I was able to find it again, here, at one of the Internet's most prominent Dhofar Rebellion websites, by going through my browser history on the following Monday. There is no earthly reason why my search strings at home failed to produce this link.

3) I need to go through Akehurst's seminal tome on the Dhofar War with a fine-toothed comb to gather more information about the Jordanians, but the paragraphs above are close to being comprehensive. There may be a few details yet to be covered.

While I was still back in Aberdeen, I spent a few minutes in the Waterstones location on Union Street, and found two books that I'd like to get my hands on: The War that Never Was: The True Story of the Men who Fought Britain's Most Secret Battle by Duff Hart-Davis, and Buraimi: The Struggle for Power, Influence, and Oil in Arabia by Michael Quentin Morton. One gives background on the Buraimi Incident, which contributed to the Dhofar Rebellion, while the other gives background to other regional developments that contributed to the conflict. Unfortunately, both books are outside my budget at the moment. But, soon... Soon...

Container Housing in Australia

Here's yet another article about container housing, this time in Sydney, Australia.

Starship Modeler and Scale Modeling

I used to assemble a lot of model kits. I wasn't actually very good at it, I didn't really put that much effort into most of the ones I built, and I spent a lot more money on them than I should have. Before I got involved with building model kits, I had started writing what must have been insanely bad science fiction stories on the family computer. I still entertain delusions of grandeur of writing a trilogy of science fiction novels, and building a series of model kits to illustrate the various spaceships. Maybe I'll do both someday.

One website that I've enjoyed looking at is Starship Modeler, and I love their Reader Gallery, where they display submissions from readers who have built a wide variety of science fiction models (of varying type and quality). A couple of years ago, a guy called Jeff Polizzotto submitted five of his creations, all built from copies of the same kit: the starships Archer, Conner, Dykstra, Vincent, and Vinton, all based upon the Oberth class from Star Trek. (I've never liked the Oberth class because its size and design doesn't make sense, but I do have fond memories of piloting the Oberth on the Star Trek: Starfleet Academy Starship Bridge Simulator Super Nintendo game with my friend Jeff when we were kids.) I had lost track of the actual URLs, but was able to do some creative searching to find them again.

One of my other favorites is Andy Swenson's USS Tripoli. When I was a kid, and enamoured with Star Trek, my friends and I were always fixated on the biggest, newest, flashiest ships. Over the years, I've gotten more interested in the story potential of older or smaller ships, like Swenson's Tripoli. The big, fancy flagships are obviously cool, but there's more drama and intrigue to be read (or written) if your characters' options are limited, forcing them to employ ingenuity to overcome disadvantages in size or capability.

For now, my own scale modeling ambitions shall have to wait...

Musings on the Orcadian Dialect

I talked about the Orcadian dialect once, and then I talked about it again. A few weeks ago, I was doing a bit of casual research (read: reading a bunch of stuff on Wikipedia), and came up with a few links of interest.

The Orkney Communities website highlighted that 2010 was the Year o' Orkney Dialect, and they linked to an eBook of an old Etymological Glossary of the Shetland and Orkney Dialect. There's also an entire website dedicated to the Scots language, and it includes some discussion of the Orcadian dialect. I also found an interesting essay at the University of the Highlands and Islands' Centre for Nordic Studies' website that's worth a read.

My "casual research" - particularly the Wikipedia part - notes that, in actuality, Orcadians (and Shetlanders) used to speak a North Germanic language called Norn; Sigurd Towrie's indispensable Orkneyjar website has an article about Norn, as well as an article about the Orkney dialect.

I've stated repeatedly that I cut my teeth on the Orkney dialect by reviewing old Giddy Limit strips. Last week, I had my first experience with incomprehensible Orcadian speech in a long time while listening to a podcast from BBC Radio Orkney. They were interviewing some guy who had attended a local sporting event or something, and between being hoarse, mumbling, speaking in a particularly thick Orcadian accent, and a poor quality phone connection, I had zero idea what he was saying. I was about to be upset, but when his statement was over, both of the presenters commented on how it sounded as if he had been shouting a lot the previous day, and that made me feel better!