In Limbo: The Lumbee Tribe’s Enduring Fight for Identity and Recognition
ROBESON COUNTY, NORTH CAROLINA – In the heart of southeastern North Carolina, where the rich soil of Robeson County yields tobacco and soybeans, resides a people whose identity is as deeply rooted as the longleaf pines that once dominated their ancestral lands: the Lumbee Tribe. For generations, they have lived, worked, and thrived in this land, maintaining a vibrant community and a distinct cultural heritage. Yet, despite being the largest tribe east of the Mississippi River, and the largest in North Carolina, the Lumbee find themselves in a unique and frustrating limbo: recognized as "Indian" by the federal government, but denied the full benefits and sovereignty that come with full federal recognition.
This paradoxical status, enshrined in the "Lumbee Act" of 1956, is the crucible in which the tribe’s identity and its decades-long quest for justice have been forged. It’s a story of resilience, political struggle, and the unwavering conviction of a people who have never stopped asserting who they are.
A History Forged in the Landscape
The Lumbee’s connection to Robeson County and the surrounding region stretches back centuries, long before the arrival of European settlers. Their ancestors, believed to be a composite of various Southeastern Siouan, Iroquoian, and Algonquian-speaking groups, including the Cheraw, Croatan, and Tuscarora, coalesced into a distinct community in the swamplands and river basins of what is now Robeson County. Unlike many Western tribes who were confined to reservations, the Lumbee maintained their land-owning status, farming and building their communities around shared churches, schools, and kinship networks. This self-sufficiency, born out of necessity and a refusal to be displaced, is a cornerstone of their identity.
"We didn’t need a reservation to know who we were," explains Harvey Godwin Jr., former Chairman of the Lumbee Tribe. "Our reservation was our land, our churches, our families. We’ve always been here, always been Indian."
This deep-seated, continuous presence and self-identification stand in stark contrast to the federal government’s reluctance to grant them full recognition. Opponents of Lumbee recognition often point to the lack of a definitive treaty with the U.S. government or a documented pre-colonial tribal name, citing their mixed ancestry as a reason to question their "Indianness." However, Lumbee historians and leaders argue that their history of continuous community, shared culture, and distinct identity, passed down through generations, is more than sufficient.
"Our identity is not a recent invention," states Dr. Malinda Maynor Lowery, a Lumbee historian and professor at Emory University. "It’s a continuous thread woven through centuries of self-governance, resistance, and community building in a specific geographic location. To deny that is to deny our history."
The Cruel Irony of 1956
The pivotal moment in the Lumbee’s modern struggle came with the passage of the "Lumbee Act" by Congress in 1956. This legislation was meant to settle their identity, but it became a source of profound frustration. The Act explicitly recognized the Lumbee as "Indians residing in Robeson and adjoining counties," and prohibited them from being considered "any other tribe of Indians." This was a significant acknowledgment of their distinct identity.
However, the Act contained a devastating caveat: "Nothing in this Act shall make such Indians eligible for any services performed by the United States for Indians because of their status as Indians."
This "Catch-22" created a unique and infuriating situation. The Lumbee were officially "Indian" in the eyes of the federal government, but without any of the accompanying rights, benefits, or sovereignty that full recognition confers upon other tribes. They were, in essence, recognized without recognition.
This denial of services impacts virtually every aspect of tribal life, from healthcare and education to housing and economic development. Federally recognized tribes have access to the Indian Health Service, Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) programs, and critical funding streams that support infrastructure, cultural preservation, and economic self-sufficiency. The Lumbee, despite their large population and demonstrable need, are locked out of these vital resources.
The Battle of Hayes Pond: A Defining Moment
Perhaps no event better encapsulates the Lumbee’s fierce independence and unwavering self-identification than the "Battle of Hayes Pond" in January 1958. This incident, just two years after the paradoxical 1956 Act, saw the Lumbee community rise up to defend itself against the Ku Klux Klan.
Led by Grand Dragon James W. "Catfish" Cole, the KKK planned a rally near Maxton, North Carolina, intending to intimidate and "cleanse" the Lumbee community, which they viewed as "mongrels." Cole had previously burned crosses in Lumbee yards and made threats. On the night of January 18, 1958, hundreds of Klansmen gathered, expecting to terrorize the local Lumbee population.
What they found was not a cowed community, but a determined and armed populace. Led by Lumbee veterans and community leaders, an estimated 500 Lumbee men, women, and children surrounded the KKK rally site. Shots were fired, Klansmen scattered, and Cole himself fled into the swamps, leaving behind his KKK banner and sound equipment. The Lumbee famously confiscated the KKK banner and celebrated their victory by dancing around a burning cross.
This audacious act of self-defense made national headlines and cemented the Lumbee’s reputation as a people who would not be intimidated. It was a powerful, tangible demonstration of their cohesion, courage, and their undeniable identity, regardless of federal pronouncements.
The Decades-Long Political Struggle
Since 1956, the Lumbee Tribe has been engaged in a relentless, bipartisan lobbying effort to achieve full federal recognition. Bill after bill has been introduced in Congress, often passing the House of Representatives only to stall in the Senate, frequently due to objections from other federally recognized tribes who fear the precedent it might set or the potential dilution of federal resources.
"Every legislative session, it’s the same fight," says a Lumbee tribal council member, who preferred not to be named given the ongoing political sensitivities. "We educate, we advocate, we show up. We tell our story, again and again. It’s exhausting, but we do it for our ancestors and for our children."
The arguments against full recognition often center on the idea of "blood quantum" or the lack of a documented reservation history. However, the Lumbee counter that their history of continuous community and self-governance is indisputable. They have their own tribal enrollment, an elected government, and a vibrant cultural life that includes an annual Powwow, a cultural center, and a strong sense of collective identity.
Moreover, the Lumbee’s case is unique. Unlike other tribes seeking recognition through the arduous Bureau of Indian Affairs administrative process, the Lumbee have already been recognized by Congress, albeit partially. They argue that Congress, having created their unique status, is the only body that can rectify it.
The Human and Economic Cost
The lack of full recognition carries a profound human and economic cost. Lumbee people often face health disparities, educational disadvantages, and limited economic opportunities compared to their fully recognized counterparts. Without federal funding, the tribe struggles to provide adequate healthcare, build necessary infrastructure, or develop sustainable economic ventures that could lift their community out of poverty.
"It’s not just about money, though that’s crucial," says one Lumbee elder. "It’s about dignity. It’s about being seen, truly seen, for who we are. It’s about our children having the same opportunities as any other Native American child in this country."
The economic impact is particularly stark in Robeson County, which remains one of the poorest counties in North Carolina. Full federal recognition could unlock millions of dollars in federal funding and open doors to economic development projects, including gaming, which many tribes use to generate revenue for social programs and infrastructure.
A Future Built on Persistence
Despite the setbacks and the frustrating wait, the Lumbee Tribe remains steadfast in its pursuit of full federal recognition. The fight is not just about historical justice; it is about securing a future for generations to come.
"We stand on the shoulders of those who came before us," Chairman Godwin once reflected. "My grandparents fought for this. My parents fought for this. Now it’s our turn, and we won’t stop until we achieve what is rightfully ours."
The Lumbee story is a powerful testament to the enduring nature of identity in the face of adversity. It highlights the complexities of federal Indian policy and the deeply personal impact of bureaucratic decisions on living, breathing communities. As the sun sets over the longleaf pines of Robeson County, the Lumbee continue their wait, a vibrant, resilient people in a state of limbo, yet unwavering in their conviction that their time for full justice and recognition will, eventually, come. Their journey, though long and arduous, is far from over.
