Throughout the nineteenth century, the land known as “Indian Territory” was populated by diverse cultures, troubled by shifting political boundaries, and transformed by historical events that were colorful, dramatic, and often tragic. Beyond its borders, most Americans visualized the area through the pictures produced by non-Native travelers, artists, and reporters—all with differing degrees of accuracy, vision, and skill. The images in Picturing Indian Territory, and the eponymous exhibit it accompanies, conjure a wildly varied vision of Indian Territory’s past. Spanning nearly nine decades, these artworks range from the scientific illustrations found in English naturalist Thomas Nuttall’s journal to the paintings of Frederic Remington, Henry Farny, and Charles Schreyvogel. The volume’s three essays situate these works within the historical narratives of westward expansion, the creation of an “Indian Territory” separate from the rest of the United States, and Oklahoma’s eventual statehood in 1907. James Peck focuses on artists who produced images of Native Americans living in this vast region during the pre–Civil War era. In his essay, B. Byron Price picks up the story at the advent of the Civil War and examines newspaper and magazine reports as well as the accounts of government functionaries and artist-travelers drawn to the region by the rapidly changing fortunes of the area’s traditional Indian cultures in the wake of non-Indian settlement. Mark Andrew White then looks at the art and illustration resulting from the unrelenting efforts of outsiders who settled Indian and Oklahoma Territories in the decades before statehood. Some of the artworks featured in this volume have never before been displayed; some were produced by more than one artist; others are anonymous. Many were completed by illustrators on-site, as the events they depicted unfolded, while other artists relied on written accounts and vivid imaginations. Whatever their origin, these depictions of the people, places, and events of “Indian Country” defined the region for contemporary American and European audiences. Today they provide a rich visual record of a key era of western and Oklahoma history—and of the ways that art has defined this important cultural crossroads.

An interdisciplinary study of visual representations of British colonial power in the eighteenth century.

For centuries Comanches have captivated imaginations. Yet their story in popular accounts abruptly stops with the so-called fall of the Comanche empire in 1875, when Quanah Parker led Comanches onto the reservation in southwestern Oklahoma. In Cinematic Comanches, the first tribal-specific history of Comanches in film and media, Parker descendant Dustin Tahmahkera examines how Comanches represent themselves and are represented by others in recent media. Telling a story of Comanche family and extended kin and their relations to film, Tahmahkera reframes a distorted and defeated history of Comanches into a vibrant story of cinematic traditions, agency, and cultural continuity. Co-starring a long list of Comanche actors, filmmakers, consultants, critics, and subjects, Cinematic Comanches moves through the politics of tribal representation and history to highlight the production of Comanchería cinema. From early silent films and 1950s Westerns to Disney's The Lone Ranger and the story of how Comanches captured its controversial Comanche lead Johnny Depp, Tahmahkera argues that Comanche nationhood can be strengthened through cinema. Tahmahkera's extensive research includes interviews with elder LaDonna Harris, who adopted Depp during filming in one of the most contested films in recent Indigenous cinematic history. In the fragmented popular narrative of the rise and fall of Comanches, Cinematic Comanches calls for considering mediated contributions to the cultural resurgence of Comanches today.

“At the end of the Trail of Tears there was a promise,” U.S. Supreme Court Justice Neil Gorsuch wrote in the decision issued on July 9, 2020, in the case of McGirt v. Oklahoma. And that promise, made in treaties between the United States and the Muscogee (Creek) Nation more than 150 years earlier, would finally be kept. With the Court’s ruling, the full extent of the Muscogee (Creek) Reservation was reaffirmed—meaning that 3.25 million acres of land in Oklahoma, including part of the city of Tulsa, were recognized once again as “Indian Country” as defined by federal law. A Promise Kept explores the circumstances and implications of McGirt v. Oklahoma, likely the most significant Indian law case in well over 100 years. Combining legal analysis and historical context, this book gives an in-depth, accessible account of how the case unfolded and what it might mean for Oklahomans, the Muscogee (Creek) Nation, and other tribes throughout the United States. For context, Robbie Ethridge traces the long history of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation from its inception in present-day Georgia and Alabama in the seventeenth century; through the tribe’s rise to regional prominence in the colonial era, the tumultuous years of Indian Removal, and the Civil War and allotment; and into its resurgence in Oklahoma in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Against this historical background, Robert J. Miller considers McGirt v. Oklahoma, examining important related cases, precedents that informed the Court’s decision, and future ramifications—legal, civil, regulatory, and practical—for the Muscogee (Creek) Nation, federal Indian law, the United States, the state of Oklahoma, and Indian nations in Oklahoma and elsewhere. Their work clarifies the stakes of a decision that, while long overdue, raises numerous complex issues profoundly affecting federal, state, and tribal relations and law—and will continue to do so for the foreseeable future.

Acheraiou challenges postcolonial discourse analysis and proposes a new model of interpretation that resituates the historical, ideological and conceptual denseness of the Colonial idea. He questions key issues, including hybridity, Otherness and territoriality, and expands the postcolonial field by introducing ground-breaking theoretical concepts.

Westward expansion in the United States was deeply intertwined with the technological revolutions of the nineteenth century, from telegraphy to railroads. Among the most important of these, if often forgotten, was the lithograph. Before photography became a dominant medium, lithography—and later, chromolithography—enabled inexpensive reproduction of color illustrations, transforming journalism and marketing and nurturing, for the first time, a global visual culture. One of the great subjects of the lithography boom was an emerging Euro-American colony in the Americas: Texas. The most complete collection of its kind—and quite possibly the most complete visual record of nineteenth-century Texas, period—Texas Lithographs is a gateway to the history of the Lone Star State in its most formative period. Ron Tyler assembles works from 1818 to 1900, many created by outsiders and newcomers promoting investment and settlement in Texas. Whether they depict the early French colony of Champ d’Asile, the Republic of Texas, and the war with Mexico, or urban growth, frontier exploration, and the key figures of a nascent Euro-American empire, the images collected here reflect an Eden of opportunity—a fairy-tale dream that remains foundational to Texans’ sense of self and to the world’s sense of Texas.

This book gives insights by providing a glimpse into the past, while it connects with the present and delivers perspectives on the future dimensions of India’s space programme. The chapters cover a broad range– Commercial & NewSpace, Space Policy, Space Security, International Cooperation, and Space Sustainability & Global Governance—and they deliver educated suggestions and opinions to policymakers of the country to review their strategies on these issues. Understanding expert opinions in these areas shall bestow the emerging managers of the space programme with holistic insights. This work is a unique collection of thoughts and analyses on matters relevant to space policy and governance, a good account of accomplishments, and thought-provoking puzzles on future possibilities. The authors are national and international experts in different disciplines, both veteran and young scholars, and thus will be an invaluable resource for policymakers, academic researchers, and the public at large. This work can also be a concrete step for continuing discourse on varied subjects or issues of importance, which demand an interactive and evolutionary approach to progress on policy. While there could be some differences in the positions taken by writers with reference to the views of some stakeholders in policymaking, the academic yet non-formal nature of the content in this book will hopefully create enough spaces for reflecting on a cohesive and harmonious framework of policy and its continued dynamism in a field where India can make significant contributions to national and global developments.

American Indian policy at its inception, the problems involved, and the establishment of administrative machinery.

The vibrant Swahili coast port city of Dar es Salaam—literally, the “Haven of Peace”—hosts a population reflecting a legacy of long relations with the Arabian Peninsula and a diaspora emanating in waves from the Indian subcontinent. By the 1960s, after decades of European imperial intrusions, Tanzanian nationalist forces had peacefully dismantled the last British colonial structures of racial segregation and put in place an official philosophy of nonracial nationalism. Yet today, more than five decades after independence, race is still a prominent and publicly contested subject in Dar es Salaam. What makes this issue so dizzyingly elusive—for government bureaucrats and ordinary people alike—is East Africa’s location on the Indian Ocean, a historic crossroads of diverse peoples possessing varied ideas about how to reconcile human difference, social belonging, and place of origin. Based on a range of archival, oral, and newspaper sources from Tanzania and India, this book explores the history of cross-cultural encounters that shaped regional ideas of diaspora and nationhood from the earliest days of colonial Tanganyika—when Indian settlement began to expand dramatically—to present-day Tanzania, a nation always under construction. The book focuses primarily on two prominent city spaces, schools and cinemas: the one a site of education, the other a site of leisure; one typically a programmatic entity of government, the other usually a bastion of commercial enterprise. Nonetheless, the forces shaping schools and cinemas as they developed into busy centers of urban social interaction were surprisingly similar: the state, community organizations, nationalist movements, economic change, and the transnational winds of Indian Ocean culture and capital. Whether in the form of institutional apparatuses like networks of Indian teacher importation and curricula adoption, or through the market predominance of the Indian film industry, schools and cinemas in East Africa historically were influenced by actions and ideas from around the Indian Ocean. Diaspora and Nation in the Indian Ocean argues that an Indian Ocean–wide perspective enables an examination of the transnational production of ideas about race against a backdrop of changing relationships and claims of belonging as new notions of nationhood and diaspora emerged. It bridges an academic divide, because historians often either focus on the Indian diaspora in isolation or write it out of the story of African nation building. Further, in contrast to the swell of publications on global Indian or South Asian diasporas that highlight longings for and contacts with the “homeland,” the book also demonstrates that much of the creative production of diasporic Indian identities formed in East Africa was a result of local (albeit cosmopolitan) encounters across cities like Dar es Salaam.

A true American hero who earned a Purple Heart, a Bronze Star, and a Congressional Gold Medal, Brummett Echohawk was also a Pawnee on the European battlefields of World War II. He used the Pawnee language and counted coup as his grandfather had done during the Indian wars of the previous century. This first book-length biography depicts Echohawk as a soldier, painter, writer, humorist, and actor profoundly shaped by his Pawnee heritage and a man who refused to be pigeonholed as an “Indian artist.” Through his formative war service in the 45th Infantry Division (known as the Thunderbirds), Echohawk strove to prove himself both a patriot and a true Pawnee warrior. Pawnee history, culture, and spiritual belief inspired his courageous conduct and bolstered his confidence that he would return home. Echohawk’s career as an artist began with combat sketches published under such titles as “Death Shares a Ditch at Bloody Anzio.” His portraits of Allied and enemy soldiers, some of which appeared in the Detroit Free Press in 1944, included drawings of men from all over the world, among them British infantrymen, Gurkhas, and a Japanese American soldier. After the war, without relying on the GI Bill, Echohawk studied at the Art Institute of Chicago for three years. His persistence paid off, leading to work as a staff artist for several Chicago newspapers. Echohawk was also a humorist whose prodigious output includes published cartoons and several parodies of famous paintings, such as a Mona Lisa wearing a headband, turquoise ring, and beaded necklace. Featuring eight of Echohawk’s paintings in full color, this thoroughly researched biography shows how one unusual man succeeded in American Indian and mainstream cultures. World War II aficionados will marvel at Echohawk’s military feats, and American art enthusiasts will appreciate a body of work characterized by deep historical research, an eye for beauty, and a unique ability to capture tribal humor.