$Trillions of Broken Promises

Reparations, Sovereignty, and the Enduring Legacy of Colonialism

The Weight of Broken Treaties

From the earliest days of European settlement, treaties were used as a tool of diplomacy between the United States government and Native nations. These treaties, over 370 in total, were meant to secure peace, land agreements, and coexistence. In exchange, Native peoples were promised sovereign rights, land, and, crucially, compensation in the form of resources, healthcare, education, and protection. Yet, these promises were almost universally broken, often within years of being signed.

The true cost of these broken promises is impossible to measure in simple monetary terms. Land, culture, and sovereignty are not commodities that can be easily priced. However, if one were to quantify the economic and material loss incurred by Native peoples—through stolen land, expropriated resources, and missed opportunities—the total would be staggering. Some estimates suggest the cost could run into the hundreds of billions if not trillions when factoring in centuries of economic injustice, treble damages, and interest.

Calculating Reparations: Land, Wealth, and Justice

Any serious discussion of reparations must start with the land. Native nations once held over 2 billion acres of land in what is now the United States, a vast expanse rich with natural resources. Through a series of coercive treaties, legislation, and outright theft, much of this land was lost, culminating in the General Allotment Act (or Dawes Act) of 1887, which further fragmented Native lands and opened millions of acres for white settlers.

Reparations would need to account for the value of this land and the resources extracted from it—timber, minerals, oil, gas, and agricultural produce—that have enriched generations of non-Native Americans. The land itself is invaluable, not just in terms of its market price but as the foundation of Indigenous identity, culture, and sovereignty. The land is not only an economic asset but a spiritual and cultural one. In this context, mere monetary compensation seems inadequate.

However, if we were to calculate reparations based on these lost lands and resources, the numbers quickly skyrocket. Consider the Black Hills of South Dakota, illegally seized from the Lakota after the discovery of gold, despite an 1868 treaty guaranteeing their sovereignty over the region. The Lakota have refused financial compensation for the Black Hills, insisting instead on the return of the land. The value of the Black Hills alone, when adjusted for inflation and interest, would be immense. And this is just one example. If treble damages were applied—tripling the original valuation to account for the egregiousness of the theft—the total would become astronomical.

Interest on Injustice

A crucial factor in calculating reparations is the interest accrued over time. The land was not just taken, but taken centuries ago, meaning that any fair compensation would need to account for the economic opportunities missed due to that loss. Compounded interest, a financial mechanism commonly applied in lawsuits to reflect the time value of money, would exponentially increase the debt owed. This debt is not just economic but cultural, as the loss of land also meant the loss of a way of life.

Reparations could, therefore, easily run into the trillions. This is not merely hypothetical. In 1980, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in United States v. Sioux Nation of Indians that the U.S. government had illegally taken the Black Hills, and the Sioux were entitled to compensation. The sum awarded was $106 million—today, with interest, that figure exceeds $1 billion. Yet the Sioux have refused the payment, demanding the return of their land instead. Their stance underscores the inadequacy of financial compensation for the cultural and spiritual dimensions of the loss.

Beyond Dollars: The Moral and Ethical Case for Reparations

While the financial dimension of reparations is essential, the moral and ethical dimensions are equally important. Reparations are not simply about writing a cheque; they are about justice. The broken treaties were not merely legal failures but moral failures, reflecting a systemic disregard for Native sovereignty and human dignity. The U.S. government’s persistent violations of treaties reveal a deep-rooted pattern of exploitation and dishonour that continues to reverberate through Native communities today.

Reparations, in this broader sense, must include the return of lands, the restoration of cultural and political autonomy, and a fundamental rethinking of the relationship between Native nations and the U.S. government. The return of land—such as in the Land Back movement—is a critical component of this. Land is not only a material asset but a living connection to identity, tradition, and the future. Restoring land to Native nations would not only right historical wrongs but also empower them to rebuild their communities on their own terms.

The Political Challenge of Justice

Despite the moral clarity of the case for reparations, political challenges remain immense. Many Americans are unaware of the extent of Native dispossession or may see reparations as impractical or divisive. Yet, as the fight for racial justice has shown, justice is often uncomfortable. The fact that reparations would be costly, complex, and difficult is not an excuse to avoid the issue. If anything, it highlights how deep and enduring the injustice is.

Reparations are not a “handout” but a payment of a debt long overdue. Native nations were once economically, politically, and culturally self-sufficient. The disruption of their societies, through land theft and broken treaties, is the root cause of the poverty, health disparities, and political marginalisation they face today. Addressing this requires more than just policy tweaks; it demands a fundamental reckoning with the past.

Conclusion: Trillions Owed, Promises to Keep

The reparations owed for centuries of broken treaties, stolen land, and unfulfilled promises are not simply about money but about honouring the sovereignty and humanity of Indigenous peoples. The debt is vast—financially, morally, and ethically—but it must be addressed if there is to be any hope for genuine reconciliation. Justice, long delayed, can no longer be denied. This underscores the larger point that the United States rarely follow through on their commitments, but this is a story for another day. Meantime, they’ll continue running roughshod over their people and the world, bullying their way through it.