Wampum: How Indian Tribes, the Mafia, and an Inattentive Congress Invented Indian Gaming and Created a $28 Billion Gambling Empire
By Donald Craig Mitchell; The Overlook Press; 2016; 392 pages; $29.95
"Wampum" author Donald Craig Mitchell could not have chosen a better title.
Originally a type of bead fashioned by Native Americans in the northeastern United States, it was used as currency and eventually became a slang term for money. And big money, too. As the subtitle to his book says, it's "How Indian Tribes, the Mafia, and an Inattentive Congress Invented Indian Gaming and Created a $28 Billion Gambling Empire."
Mitchell, an Anchorage attorney, is a nationally recognized expert on Indian law. His previous two books concerning Alaska Natives before, during and after their fight for a land settlement in 1972 contain the same in-depth research and detail that you might expect from a lawyer preparing for trial.
You might wonder why a lawyer who so ably represented Native interests in Washington, D.C., a generation ago now exposes the dark side of what reservation gambling has become.
Perhaps, in his later years, he is warning what is coming to Alaska now that the taking of land into trust — reservations — has been approved in Alaska by a Washington, D.C., court.
In the first chapter, Mitchell explains how the doctrine of inherent tribal sovereignty was invented by a government lawyer, Felix Cohen, who was on loan from the Department of Justice to the Interior Department to write a handbook for superintendents of Indian reservations intending to advise them on legal matters. The unfinished book was scuttled by the Interior Department when it was discovered the project had gone into left field.
However, Cohen was allowed to finish his work when he returned to the Justice Department. It was published in 1938 under the title, "Handbook of Federal Indian Law."
The book was distributed around Washington, D.C., and into the hands of the Supreme Court. Within a few months, it became the basis of a decision handed down by Justice William O. Douglas. The doctrine has prevailed since.
When tribal sovereignty gradually became the accepted law of the land — without congressional approval — states were prevented from enforcing regulations and laws on reservations in their borders. This becomes the basis for cigarette sales out of a trailer on a Florida Seminole reservation, then eventually widespread gambling, often involving the mafia and billions of dollars.
Typically, Native Americans or their headmen were cut in on a small part of the profits. But many ways were found to siphon money into the hands of the operators.
When help was needed in Washington to move a reservation or help in other ways, the regional congressional representative was often glad to help. When it came to creating reservations where none existed or for "Indians" of dubious blood, such well-known names as Sen. Chris Dodd of Connecticut or Rep. George Miller of California, head of the House Committee on Resources, pop up (Miller was no friend of Alaska when the Congress was carving up Alaska in the ANILCA days).
In 375 pages, Mitchell provides a sad case of how Congress can be induced to pass laws that take care of special interests, especially the Indian gaming industry. As one reviewer has already pointed out, it's good intentions gone awry.
In one case, Congress appropriated money to buy land to create a reservation where none existed for the questionable Western Pequot Tribe in Connecticut.
Mitchell demonstrates numerous examples, whether it be the mafia moving from Florida to California, creating new reservations, creating new Indian tribes or Congress being duped into passing legislation it hasn't read. Some examples are so numerous one might tire and skip to the next chapter. If you do, you will miss how some of the same names surface time and again when new opportunities present themselves.
The author adds an epilogue after Donald Trump became a figure on the world stage, detailing how Trump got stung trying to expose fake Indian casinos.
Foxwood Casino in Atlantic City was grossing $40,000 per month in 1973 while three of the Trump casinos in the area were not profitable. Trump filed a lawsuit trying to prove Foxwood was not composed of real Indians. He told Don Imus on talk radio that none of them were Indians. Trump said one told him his name was Running Water Sitting Bull. When Trump questioned that, he told Trump to just call him Ricky Sanders. Trump then tried congressional legislation, but that didn't go anywhere either. Then, Trump "wised up" (those are the author's words) and got into the management end of an Indian casino in Palm Springs, California.
"Wampum" isn't a mindless, fun read. Neither is it a textbook. Mitchell deserves appreciation for shedding light for the first time on a subject that's a blight on America. Rewards to resident Indians are as low as $20 per year at Pine Ridge in South Dakota and up to as much as $12,000 per month in Florida. It depends on how many are in the tribe and how near the casino is to a metropolitan area.
While we aren't apt to see big casinos in Alaska for a while, we might see cigarettes, booze and pot sold from trailers.
Chuck Gray is publisher emeritus of the Fairbanks Daily News-Miner.