There’s linguistics, and there’s racism
Of course the name of the Washington NFL team is racist.
It should have been tossed ages ago, banished by a league that bends the knee to every rich and entitled owner in its oligarchy of fat cats. In this case, Daniel Snyder has been intractably opposed to dumping “Redskins” — until about five minutes ago.
This moment in history — where racial inequity and bigotry has seized the passion of a nation, though sadly not the American president, except for inside-out denialism — has also engulfed the Washington franchise.
So the team, in an abrupt about-face, said it was launching a “thorough review” of the name, which will likely result in a new team moniker and mascot.
Three minority owners reportedly are looking to sell their stakes, fed up with Snyder and the constant turmoil over the club’s branding. One of them, Frederick W. Smith, is president and CEO of FedEx, which in 1999 signed a 27-year, $205-million (U.S.) namerights deal for what is now known as FedEx Field.
FedEx was the first major corporate backer of the Redskins to “request” that the team change its name. Other boldface sponsors, including PepsiCo and Nike, are pushing for the change. Target and Walmart have pulled their team merchandise.
Although nobody should put too much faith in the moral principles of corporate America, which is scrambling to virtue-signal and go all selfcorrecting to give the appearance of being on the right side of history.
This week, more than a dozen Native American leaders and organizations sent a letter to NFL commissioner Roger Goodell calling for the league to force a name change on Snyder immediately. That was on the same day President Donald Trump issued another of his Twitter blurts, condemning the move.
But then there’s this: Junking the term is directly opposed to what past polling of Native Americans (also a designation that draws wide disapproval, more so in Canada than in the United States) wish.
In this column, I’ve used the term “Native American” because that’s the terminology used in the American debate and in formal government departments. And, even more offensively for some, the Bureau of Indian Affairs. It’s illogical to call Indigenous people “Indians” — they don’t come from India, they never immigrated to America.
(As an aside, Star style frowns upon “Native” and “Aboriginal” unless used in quotes or proper names, preferring Indigenous. One of the problems is there’s no generic term when referring to that demographic; Indigenous people identify with a particular First Nation group, i.e., Algonquin, Cree, Haudenosaunee; in the U.S., Cherokee Nation, Apache Tribe of Oklahoma, etc.)
For a long time, the Washington Post led the editorial charge against what is a blatant piece of racist iconography. Then, in 2016, the paper commissioned a national poll strictly limited to those who identified as Native American.
Nine out of 10 respondents said they weren’t offended, seven in 10 did not find the word “Redskin” disrespectful to Indians and eight in 10 claimed they wouldn’t be offended if a non-Native called them that.
That boggled my mind, frankly. Perhaps, four years later, amid a societal reawakening about race and the evils of settler colonialism, the results would be different. In repeated polling across every demographic group, the general public appears to object much more strongly to the name than Native Americans do.
A 2014 ESPN poll found that 23 per cent of those contacted wanted “Redskins” to be retired — more than twice the number of Native Americans in the Post commissioning.
Does any of that matter? Should any of that matter when “Redskins” is arguably the most hideous label from among sports teams that have adopted Native symbology? Or does the recurring debate simply bring us back to the starting point of white liberal guilt that actually ignores the sensibilities of Indigenous people, yet again squelching their voice?
Cleveland’s ball club may have expunged the execrable Chief Wahoo caricature from their uniforms and merchandise, but they’re still the Indians, albeit the club announced on July 3 it too would be reviewing its name in the wake of nationwide protests over the killing of George Floyd by four Minneapolis cops, afterward fired and criminally charged. Since then, the ugly reality of racism as a pivot for transformational reckoning has expanded to encompass the colonial roots of Empire and the oppression — sometimes the massacre — of Native peoples.
Until 1914, the Indians had been known as the “Naps,” in tribute to star player and manager Nap Lajoie. His formal name was Napoleon Lajoie.
Some media organizations won’t use “Indians” at all in their reportage, sticking only to the city name, as did a Toronto Blue Jays broadcaster whenever referencing the club. Although I would have been more impressed if this same individual hadn’t waxed enthusiastically about the family virtues of a Toronto player — how well-raised he’d been — when the player’s father was on the sexual registry of his home state.
Currently, Cleveland players have expressed their qualified approval of a name shift. “Society’s shifting and it’s changing,” Francisco Lindor told reporters during a Zoom call from Progressive Field. “If changing the name brings more love and more peace to society, I’m open to listening to the change of names.”
Manager Terry Francona said it was time to move forward — away — from the Indians name, observing that discussions about doing so had previously been kicked down the road until the fuss died down.
“I’ve been thinking about it and been thinking about it before we put out that statement. I know in the past, when I’ve been asked about, whether it’s our name or the Chief Wahoo, I think I would usually answer and say I know that we’re never trying to be disrespectful. And I still feel that way. But I don’t think that’s a good enough answer today. It’s time to move forward. It’s a very difficult subject. It’s also delicate.”
The Atlanta Braves, while paying lip service to the whirlwind of change — “much work to do on and off the field,” they said in a statement in response to media queries about whether a name change was under consideration — have pushed the issue to post-season discussion, while proclaiming the team “honors, supports and values the Native American community,” having in recent months “created an even stronger bond with various Native American tribes, both regionally and nationally, on matters related to the Braves and Native American culture.”
But of course the Braves have been slammed not so much for their name, rather the fans’ notorious Tomahawk Chop and chant. In last year’s National League Division Series with St. Louis, Cardinals pitcher Ryan Helsley — a member of Cherokee Nation — said he found the chant insulting. Before Game 5, which the Cards won, the Braves did not distribute their traditional red foam tomahawks to fans.
The Kansas City Chiefs seem to have stayed below the radar in this controversy, although their fans do the “Arrowhead Chop,” as have the NHL’s Chicago Blackhawks — most gorgeous crest in sports — their team and logo originally designed to honour an American army unit, the Black Hawks Division, formed in the First World War, in turn commemorating a Sauk and Fox Indian leader who actually fought against the U.S. government in the War of 1812. (The Blackhawks have said they’re not changing it.)
There is nothing pejorative about that. And I don’t think there is anything pejorative about the Edmonton Eskimos, even if many Inuit reject the term “Eskimo,” which is not what they call themselves. But as a non-Indigenous person, that’s not my determination to make, other than having an opinion. Many others don’t agree.
The club, which held a yearlong consultation with stakeholders, issued a statement this week reiterating they found “no consensus among the Inuit people and considerable support for the Eskimo name among Inuit in various parts of Canada.”
But the shrillest voices dominate the conversation, resounding within the echo chamber of guilty conscience of white privilege.
The linguistic wars will likely rage for years to come, proprietarily, consensus elusive.
But before this moment of self-reflection dims, let’s agree at least on this one thing: Redskins is evocatively odious and should be ditched. If it doesn’t necessarily offend all Indigenous people, then because it should shame the rest of us.