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From the book

We began The Red Deal with the oldest yet often forgotten struggle on this continent: ending colonial occupation. While usually erased from the history of this nation, settler colonialism has fundamentally shaped the development of the United States and the world that it dominates economically and politically. Ending the occupation links those of us in the seat of empire with those who face its weapons, soldiers, and policies around the world. Together we share the common enemy of US imperialism. This is why we begin with ending the occupation.

Like the phrase “land back,” the Red Deal isn’t entirely new. Every generation of Indigenous people since invasion has wanted land back, and so too have they wanted to restore correct relations like the ones we spell out in these pages. The aspirations for justice stem from deep-rooted traditions, practices, and knowledges embedded within the land itself. The Red Deal is a theory and a program that emerges from experience. It is rooted in struggle, in what we do, what we observe, and the relationships we make (and sometimes break). It is thoroughly grounded in the material world we inhabit. It does not come from thought experiments or philosophical debates. Our writing and thinking quite literally emerge from the ground up; they are always grounded in our relationship with land and with people. They are a manifestation of, and directly responsive to, action.

We have written this book not as a guidebook to help movements see what needs to be seen, or to confirm what is missing from their own struggles. It is our view that Indigenous people do not write enough. And when we do, others rarely listen. Why else would we be on the precipice of mass extinction?

This a movement-document that comes from the humble people of the Earth. And we sincerely hope you find meaning in our words, that this book touches your heart and ignites your soul. Our words are sincere and our thoughts and hopes are given freely to inspire our relatives, the humble people of the Earth, to rise up and reclaim their humanity. They are, as our Diné relatives remind us, a sacred wind that carries the power to shape action. As much as we hope The Red Deal inspires monumental action and mass mobilization, we also hope it inspires more writing and more thinking. Setting your pen to a piece of paper or sitting down at a computer to write a thought—let alone a book!—is, after all, action. Not to mention hard work. It is a form of what Leanne Betasamosake Simpson calls “Indigenous excellence,” or rigorous engagement with Indigenous knowledge that happens in relation to the land and to other human beings. While we are also unapologetic leftists, we do not prioritize these intellectual and political traditions over Indigenous ones. If anything, we filter, center, and interpret our politics through a commitment to Indigenous political economy and futurity, first and foremost. To do otherwise would be contrary to who we are in this world.

As The Red Deal continues to be read, shared, debated, and implemented, we ask that its Indigenous intent and design not be decentered or whittled down for the sake of expediency, or that it be reduced to “cultural” or “spiritual” window dressing for otherwise scientific, economic-driven programs (likely designed by white dude “experts”). Unlike thinkers who center European thought, politics, and movements to not only perpetuate European colonialism but also try to apply it to the entire world, Indigenous knowledge is not parochial thought that applies to just one local culture, one place, or one time period.

Indigenous knowledge is rigorous, scientific, inclusive, diverse, and ever-changing. The knowledge we share in is comprised of Indigenous science, economics, and political science that must be at the center of any climate justice program, just as our youth, women, and warriors have been since its inception.

Our emphasis on Indigenous knowledge may seem like a rehashing of what is already available to movements, worked through by other Indigenous organizations, movements, scholars, or leaders that precede us. Some may read this and feel discouraged or uninspired because we are not proposing anything new. The truth is, we are not. Not entirely, at least. The methods of decolonization and revolution we draw from, as well as our focus on how “Indigenous knowledge incites transformation and change,” aren’t anything new. But this is because we understand the Red Deal (and The Red Nation more broadly) as belonging to longstanding, dynamic traditions of Indigenous resistance. Ours is a generational fight that picks up where our predecessors and ancestors left off. We are simply attempting to fulfill those original instructions that Valandra writes about; the same instructions that our ancestors set out all those years ago to fulfill. In many ways, we hope to be the culmination of our ancestors’ freedom dreams, premised always on returning to our humanity and our origins as good relatives.

What is perhaps different about the Red Deal is the scale of application we are proposing. Given the planetary reach of mass extinction caused by a global system of capitalism, our program for freedom must be equally audacious and far-reaching. There is no reason why Indigenous revolutionaries can’t lead us in this collective transition to the future. There is also no excuse to continue to side- line Indigenous people or knowledge simply because of the racism and ignorance that underwrites so much of what counts for radical or revolutionary politics. The extent to which the left—particularly in North America—continues to do so will be the measure of its failure to contribute in any meaningful way to the global revolution yet to come.

The Red Nation is not asking for a seat at the table of the ruling class or of the left. It is telling humanity to listen to Indigenous people. Don’t just take us seriously, take our lead, for as Haudenosaunee feminist Theresa McCarthy argues, “assertions of Indigenous knowledge” provide “models that pose alternatives to mainstream ideas,” something we desperately need in these times. In her reflections on the leadership of Haudenosaunee diplomats and governance systems in the establishment of Indigenous inter- nationalism, McCarthy reminds us that “the Haudenosaunee and other Indigenous nations of the world built an entire international Indigenous human rights infrastructure with no resources other than words and language.” Our words are powerful, and our knowledge is inevitable. Both come from and reaffirm the worlds we inhabit and continue to build, even under apocalyptic conditions. They convey strength and innovation. Because we belong to long traditions of Indigenous resistance, we have done this before. As comrade Nick Estes’ book states, our history is the future.

Each day in The Red Nation we study, theorize, enact, and experiment with everything we have laid out here in The Red Deal. We govern ourselves and our relations according to one simple philosophy: be a good relative. We are, as a collective, an experiment in practicing infrastructures of Indigenous worldmaking premised on this central edict. We don’t always get it right, but we refuse to give up because we carry the dreams of our ancestors in our hearts. These dreams will never steer us wrong, and they will not steer you wrong. The struggle to remember our humanity through our love for the Earth will define the future for all.

Join us. We are waiting for you, we welcome you, and we are ready to act.