THE MORNING RANT: Independence Day and (Repeatedly) Stolen Lands

It’s sad that Independence Day is a national day of mourning for the American left. This year it’s especially tough for them, since the celebration is even grander due to this being the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence.

My local paper is honoring the semiquincentennial by running a different story every day which highlight reasons for their shame about being American. In the past week, the featured stories have included slavery, lynchings, the slave trade, the KKK, and segregation. There is no triumph in those stories about what was overcome under the stars and stripes either, just pure venom at what a sinister country this is.

But it’s long been this way. For decades it’s made me sad that the left couldn’t stop hating on America for even one day of the year, but they can’t. I recall listening to the NPR station back in the late ‘90s, and it’s Independence Day coverage was heavily focused on injustices and land theft committed against Native Americans and Mexicans. I fully understood that NPR was providing emotional support to its listeners on a very difficult day. Those of us patriotically celebrating the USA have always caused emotional distress to the left.

Because Democrats are desperately fixated on this country being built on stolen land, they’ll never accept the U.S. as being a legitimate country to take pride in. At this point, all we on the right can do is laugh at them and hope their fervent anti-patriotism propels their party into further disrepute.

At the recent Texas Democratic Convention, it opened with, what else, a land acknowledgement to the native Karankawa Indians. This is what attendees heard: “I would also like to acknowledge that we gather on the traditional homelands of the indigenous peoples of the coastal bend and the area known as Corpus Christi. The Karankawa were the people of Corpus Christi Bay.”

Now listen, I’m a guy who believes it’s imperative to celebrate the good and de-emphasize the bad in those who came before us and helped shape this country, but the Karankawa were so rough that even the “civilized tribes” kept their distance.

The Tonkawas of Central Texas allied with and fought alongside white settlers because the Tonkawas were sandwiched between the Karankawas to the southeast and the Comanches to the northwest. History is complicated, but land acknowledgements aren’t. They are simple, no-cost outlets for white guilt.

But speaking of stolen land - in the great 19th century battles on the Texas frontier between white settlers and Comanches, both sides were fighting over stolen land that neither were native to. The Comanches had been a small, weak Shoshone tribe in the Mountain West until they acquired horses and moved east, creating the powerful “Comancheria empire in the southern plains by displacing the Apaches. The indispensable Traces of Texas provides an account from “Comanche Empire” on the Comanche colonization of the plains:

They came to the plains from the west, slipping through the canyon passes of the Sangre de Cristo Range in small, roving bands. Like so many other native groups of the age, the Numunu moved to the great continental grasslands seeking new opportunities, to build a new way of life around the emerging ecological triad of grasses, bison, and horses. They were few in number, possessed little wealth beyond a handful of mounts, and seemed indistinguishable from their more prominent allies, the Utes. New Mexico's Spanish officials noted their arrival to the southern grasslands in 1706 and wrote it off as a minor event. Yet by midcentury, the Numunu, now called Comanches, had unhinged the world they had almost unnoticeably entered.

Despite its modest beginnings, the Comanche exodus to the southern Plains is one of the key turning points in early American history. It was a commonplace migration that became a full-blown colonizing project with far-reaching geopolitical, economic, and cultural repercussions. It set off a half-century long war with the Apaches and resulted in the relocation of Apacheria ---- a massive geopolitical entity in its own right ---- from the grasslands south of the Rio Grande, at the very center of northern New Spain. The Comanche invasion of the southern plains was, quite simply, the largest and bloodiest conquering campaign the American West had witnessed ---- or would witness until the encroachment of the United States a century and a half later.

But the Comanche invasion was far more than a military conquest. As they made a place for themselves in the southern plains, Comanches formed a series of alliances with the adjacent Indians and European powers, rearranging the political and commercial geography of the entire lower midcontinent. Seen from another angle, the Comanche invasion was a momentous cultural experiment. It brought death and destruction to many, but it also introduced a new, exhilarating way of life ---- specialized mountain bison hunting ---- to the Great Plains, irrevocably altering the parameters of human existence on the vast grasslands that covered the continent's center. Finally, Comanche arrival to the southern plains was a major international event: it marked the beginning of the long decay of Spain's imperial power in what is today the American Southwest. The Comanche conquest of the southern Great Plains was a watershed event that demolished existing civilizations, recalibrated economic systems, and triggered shock waves that reverberated across North America.

The most famous story that came from the clash between whites and Comanches was the kidnapping of young Cynthia Ann Parker in 1836. She spent over 24 years with the Comanches before being recaptured in 1860 by Texas Rangers. (The movie “The Searchers” is about her recapture.) Cynthia Ann had married chief Pete Nocona and by now she only knew the Comanche way of life. She never fully readjusted to white society. As if her story wasn’t remarkable enough, her son Quanah Parker became a legendary warrior and was the last great leader of the Comanches before being re-settled on a reservation.

While that story is painful, something special has happened in ensuing decades that is uniquely American. Both sides of the Parker family have found common ground in their shared heritage, and family reunions are now attended by white and Comanche family members.

“At the Parker Family Reunion, Descendants of a Tragedy Come Together” [Texas Monthly – January 2026]

“Our symbolism is to offer water and tobacco,” [Tina Parker Emhoolha] explained. The girls placed the offerings, and Emhoolah broke a stick to symbolize an end to any lingering resentment or blame “for what happened here on that day.” Everyone bowed their heads. If any onlookers had stumbled upon the scene, they might have questioned grieving for a tragedy almost two centuries past. But it was the origin myth and original wound of the family standing around the marker. The raid of 1836 led to Quanah’s birth, a blending of Comanche and Anglo bloodlines, and the complicated identity the Parkers carry today.

The special culture and nation that emerged in the United States once its borders were finalized included white settlers, Native Americans, freedmen of African heritage, Tejanos, Cajuns, and others. There was both good and bad in all those clans and cultures. We generally adopted the best from each culture, and there is no need to feel shame about the worst aspects of any culture or incidents in our history. It all came together to make this country great.

In that spirit, our friend James Hooker (Nancy Griffith’s band leader and a founding member of the Amazing Rhythm Aces) has put out a timely song as America faces adversaries who seek to rip this country apart. Here is his song for Independence Day, “Calling All the Clans Together.” We have an amazing country. It’s worth fighting for.

[buck.throckmorton at protonmail dot com]

posted by Buck Throckmorton at 11:00 AM

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