History's shadow over Obama's Vineyard vacation
Despite its tiny size, Martha's Vineyard is a microcosm of the race problem that burdens America.
Subscribe Today to the Monitor
It ends at a large boulder – Waskosim's Rock – perched atop a hill. The wall, known locally as "the Middle Line," is a kind of New World version of the Great Wall of China. Laid out in the 17th century, it separated lands claimed by the English from those of the indigenous Wampanoag people.
The Middle Line was a Puritan era plea for racial peace: Can't we all just get along?
Unfortunately, the answer was "No." Not long after the boundary was laid down, transgressions recommenced. The Wampanoags retreated even farther west, winding up near the Gay Head cliffs, where they remain to this day.
"You're seeing an example of colonists and Indians trying to find a way to deal with their problems without shedding each other's blood," says historian David J. Silverman, who wrote an excellent account of this subject, "Faith and Boundaries."
Although a colonial-period Indian war never broke out on Martha's Vineyard, bitterness has persisted through the four centuries, symbolized by the wall itself. Indians often talk about "the white man" in angry tones; whites frequently use the words "we" and "they" when talking about the history of the conflict, even if their own ancestors arrived long after the wall's construction.
When President Obama chose Martha's Vineyard as his summer destination, he chose an 87-square-mile island that, despite its size, is a microcosm of the race problem that burdens America.
But on this island, there exist some very ironic twists. Our president will reportedly be staying at Blue Heron Farm, one of the island's most expensive gentleman's farms, purchased recently for about $20 million by William and Molly Van Devender, whites from Mississippi and big-time financial supporters of the Republican Party.
Our president will vacation on land once allotted to the Wampanoags during the Middle Line era – an historical fact with which the president himself is probably unfamiliar. And today, because Massachusetts law allows ownership down to the mean low-tide mark, even walking the beachfront is forbidden to the indigenous people.
Should our Kansan-Kenyan-American president feel guilty? If the land had been lifted from local people three years ago, instead of 300, would that make a difference?