Should Quakers Receive The Good Samaritan Into Their Membership?
Arthur E. Morgan
EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION
It is nearly 45 years since Arthur Morgan gave this talk for
Friends at the Shrewsbury and Plainfield HalfYearly Meeting in New Jersey on
March 27, 1954. A few months earlier he and Teresina Havens had published
similar articles in the Friends Intelligencer (now Friends Journal).
Both of them had argued boldly that the vision of George Fox and the faith of
Quakers was broader than the bounds of orthodox Christianity and they had
advocated accepting believers in other faiths as members of the Society of
Friends. While this was not the first statement of universalist convictions
among Friends, it was a particularly forthright one, and it demonstrates that
the movement was already gaining ground and defining itself in the mid-1950s. Powerful as they are, Morgan’s words were addressed to
another time and another generation, and in some respects they are inevitably
dated. But if carefully examined, the differences in his assumptions and
attitudes from those of Quaker universalists today can in themselves throw
light on how the world, the Society of Friends, and our own hearts have changed
in the last half of the 20th century. One of the most obvious differences to an editor was in the
use of language. Women are no longer content to be subsumed in sweeping terms
like “mankind” and “brotherhood” which imply that men are the norm for the
human race. Those and the exclusive use of masculine pronouns grate on
sensitive readers in the 1990s; Therefore I have eliminated sexist language in
the confidence that Arthur Morgan himself would have done so if he had been
able to update his writing. Far more subtle is what many liberal Friends today may feel
is a pervasive secularism in his point of view. He repeatedly refers to “a way
of life” as being the goal of all religious seeking. Not personal liberation,
transcendance, enlightenment, or union with God, not perception of ultimate
reality, or a sense of meaning in the universe. His words imply, if they do not
directly say, that the purpose of religious life is primarily to lay a basis
for ethical behavior and that it can best be advanced through reasoned inquiry.
Although such words may have fallen far short of expressing his own spiritual
life, they help to explain the fact that for many people “universalism,” and
even Quakerism itself, became equated with a rather arid, humanistic approach
to worship and with “walking one’s talk” and doing good in the world, but not
with listening for inner leadings. What this brings home to us is the fact that the world – or
at least Western society – has been through a profound spiritual upheaval since
the 1950s. Today’s universalist Friends have experienced a tide of ideas and
powerful spiritual practices from the East together with a rediscovery of
Western esoteric and mystical traditions; they have seen science redefine the
nature of the universe and its cosmology, including a discovery of the close
affinity between modern theories of the universe and mystical experience. They
have also been faced with the soul-shattering recognition that human
civilization is destroying the natural world which sustains it. Thus they have
become seekers in a far more urgent sense than most universalists of an earlier
generation, and they seek along paths of experience and intuition as well as
intellectual inquiry. No longer do they search only for “something of value” in
a variety of religious beliefs and practices; they seek answers to our
condition that are more fundamental than those provided by materialist world
views and reductionist science. The urgency expressed in Arthur Morgan’s words related
directly to his own times. The early 1950s had seen the lines of the Cold War
harden, together with the dismantling of European colonialism throughout the
world, all overshadowed by the new atomic weapons that threatened to bring a
nuclear armageddon. Peace was the overriding issue, and hearts and minds in
what was then the undeveloped non-Christian world were among the main keys to
achieving it. Therefore he quotes Gandhi’s statement that because of its
divisiveness, orthodox Christianity is “perhaps the greatest impediment” to
world peace. And he proposes universalism as an answer. Although today we still live in the shadow of the mushroom
cloud that rose over Hiroshima, nuclear war is no longer the only possibility
that makes us tremble. The interdependence and interrelatedness of all humans
with each other and with the mysterious web of life that envelops the planet
are far more apparent than they were forty-five years ago, and our most deeply
held assumptions have been shaken. However, as we look today at the worldwide
wave of religious fundamentalism in Christian, Moslem, and other communities,
and see the way in which this threatens to divide both the world and the
Society of Friends, many of Morgan’s insights speak to us with fresh
conviction. Rhoda R. Gilman
Should Quakers Receive The Good Samaritan Into Their Membership?
Should Friends receive as members of their fellowship
sincere searchers for the truth whose way of life is compatible with that of
the Society of Friends but who have had non-Christian religious backgrounds and
who are not convinced of the major Christian theological doctrines, such as
that Jesus is a deity, was crucified for our sins, rose from the dead, ascended
into heaven, and is the only source of salvation for our sins? Why should such a question be presented now as of any
pressing urgency? Why should not Friends and all Christians go their way,
living as best they can according to their traditional lights and where
feasible carrying their light to people of other faiths, hoping that the
followers of other faiths may come to see the same light they do? This is what
Friends and others have been doing for centuries past. I believe there are cogent and practical reasons for
concentrating attention on this issue at the present time. There is general
agreement that the foremost practical problem of the world today is that of
peace or war. If secure and just peace can be maintained, the world may have
time to gradually surmount its difficulties. Everyone today is drawing
attention to the dark alternative. “There is a tide in the affairs of men” which needs to be
“taken at the flood,” unless the world is to spend long days “in shallows and
in miseries.” There are times when human society is nascent and must take on
new patterns; and there are long, long times when the shell of pattern has
hardened and can scarcely be broken. Today the world is changing its pattern. I
believe that the manner of handling this matter of membership may have an
influence on the outcome. Throughout their history Friends have had a deep concern for
peace. They never have acquiesced in the attitude that because they are few
their influence does not count. Peace or war will be the outcome of the
attitudes of many people. Friends have felt that they should make such
contributions as they can, whether they be large or small. I believe that by
the attitude they take on membership, Friends may count significantly for or
against the peace and unity of mankind. It is necessary to realize that one may be acting from what
he feels to be right motives and yet may be doing great harm. When Saul, to use
the language of the Book of Acts, was “breathing out threatenings and slaughter
against the disciples of the Lord,” even then, as he said later, “I verily
thought I was doing God’s service.” Our unexamined feelings are not necessarily
true guides to the rightness of our course. I believe Friends should critically
examine their feelings on this issue. Christians, and especially Friends, commonly think of
themselves as lovers of peace, and they think of the causes of war as external
to themselves. Wars result when people resist what they consider to be
servitude or oppression or indignity, or denial of their rightful status.
Christians, and especially Friends, believe that such oppression or denial of
right is the improper action of other people, but of course not of Christians –
and most certainly not of Friends. If only the rest of the world were as committed
as we are to good will and peace among people, would not the world indeed find
peace? Now, it is a curious fact that over the whole world most
people of other faiths feel the same way about themselves. They are as sure as
are the Friends that they want peace and that the causes of war are external to
themselves. In 1931 my wife and I traveled over much of central and
eastern Europe with a large number of introductions to people in various
fields. Our mission was trying to find the reason why, with the experience of a
terribly disastrous war just behind them, the various nationals could not bury
the past and start over again, free from the rigid mind sets that paralyzed
productive action, perpetuated estrangements, and were the sure precursors of
more war. Everywhere, on all sides of national boundaries, a similar reason was
given. On ordinary practical matters, these men and women said, intelligent
people can forgive and forget. However, when it comes to matters of principle
there can be no compromise. The principles involved seemed to them so
fundamental and so obvious that they saw no point in reexamining them. In their minds these principles were as real as their rivers
and mountains, or as the universal law of gravitation. Why, then, one is
inclined to ask, if the principles involved have this eternal reality, does not
loyalty to them bring people together in unity? As I examined the “principles”
to which this intense loyalty was committed, I found that what was fundamental
principle on one side of a national boundary, on the other side was considered
mistaken prejudice or myth or worse. For instance, Transylvania, on the border between Hungary
and Romania, had been the homeland of Hungarians for many generations. Romanian
laborers filtered over the border for farm work, as Mexicans do in California,
until they outnumbered the Hungarians, Thereupon there was conflict between the
sacred principle of the ancestral homeland and the sacred principle of majority
rule. The Versailles Treaty gave the region to Romania. Before these people
could actually be at peace they would have to reexamine and actually question
the validity of the “fundamental principles” on which their convictions and
emotions were based, or by which they were justified. Yet for them even to
think of questioning those sacred principles would give them a sense of
disloyalty and guilt. But what has that to do with present-day Christianity, and
especially with Friends, who abjure violence? Surely, they do not set up
barriers against peace! Yet the fact is that Christians, sometimes including
Friends, do set up just such barriers and will not be moved to take them down
until with sincere, open mind they re-examine the “fundamental principles” on
which those barriers are based or by which they are justified. Mahatma Gandhi is generally recognized to have been a
sincere man. He gave himself without measure to his people. He renounced hatred
and violence and worked by love. He spent much time in considering the merits
of Christianity, and in that search had intimate association with numerous
devout Christians. Yet, speaking of the fundamental doctrine of orthodox
Christianity and of its normal expression in action, he called it, “perhaps the
greatest impediment to the world’s progress toward peace.” He spoke, not from
general theory, but from immediate, firsthand observation and experience in
India and Africa. What Gandhi said in plain language, most of the non-Christian
world feels today, and the non-Christian world is the larger part of humanity. When do we most deeply wound the spirit of people? Not when
we take their property or break their bones, but when we discredit or take away
the foundation of their faith, or bring it into contempt. It is exactly that
which orthodox Christians have done to men and women of other faiths.
Christians have held that theirs is the one true faith, the only faith by which
people could be saved. In taking that message to others they may act with tact
and courtesy, perhaps working through mission schools or hospitals; yet
orthodox Christians, having their belief, are in conscience bound to save the
souls of the benighted. How can they do otherwise and yet be true to their
convictions? As to nonessentials they may conciliate and adjust, but as to
fundamental principles there can be no compromise. Their duty is clear. The trouble is that non-Christians may also have their own
convictions, often as deep and as sure to them as are those of Christians
concerning Christian doctrine. For the non-Christian to have his or her own
beliefs presented as vain, deluded, or ineffective hurts deeply. When the
Christian sings about the non-Christian: Can we to men benighted, the lamp of life deny? or They call us to deliver
Their land from guilt and stain; the Christian may feel uplifted, but the non-Christian
does not. It is to such deep injury that Gandhi referred in saying that the
Christian attitude constitutes “perhaps the greatest impediment to the world’s
progress toward peace.” As compared to other religious beliefs, the convictions of
Christians have been expressed in recent years with greater vigor and
effectiveness than those of most other faiths, except Communism. The question
arises whether that vigor and effectiveness are due chiefly to the nature of
the doctrines, or to the particular people who hold them. In Ethiopia Christianity has been nearly static since the
first centuries of the Christian era. Until very recently Christian Ethiopia
remained nearly the last center of the slave trade. In the Sudan Christianity
controlled for six hundred years, and then peacefully faded away before the
greater vigor of Islam. In Egypt a solid Christian population, after four
centuries of dominance, welcomed Islamic rule as an escape from the
ecclesiastical tyranny of the Christian church. Syrian Christians, Armenian
Christians, and the ancient Christianity of South India have been long
quiescent. Apparently there has been nothing inherent in Christianity as such
to cause it to keep pure or to spread vigorously. While Western Europe and
America have been aggressive in religion, they also have been aggressive in
territorial conquest, in political control, and in business. The people of the
East see all these activities as expressions of a single pattern of Western
aggression. A native East African told me recently of the humiliation
and resentment created among his people by the assumption of Christian
missionaries that they bring the one true faith to people living in error. In
West Africa that same feeling has been expressed many times. These people
commonly look upon the attitude of the orthodox Christian as arrogance and
spiritual imperialism. When we think of Christianity we think of an ideal that
we know is seldom realized in practice, but which in our minds is a perfect pattern.
We judge Islam and other faiths by the most obvious types of practice where
those faiths prevail. Non-Christians view Christianity in the way we view their
religion. They see military conquest, commercial imperialism, and spiritual
arrogance in people whose everyday living leaves much to be desired. As
exploitation, imperialism and colonialism are being eliminated from Africa and
the East, these non-Christian peoples are determined to end proselytizing also.
Why was China the first non-Christian nation to go
Communist? While it is partly because it is near Russia, could it have any
relation to the fact that after the Boxer Rebellion in 1900 Americans had more
missionaries in China than we had in all the rest of the world combined? Could
there be any significance in the fact that in India, in Travancore-Cochin,
where a larger proportion of the population is Christian than in any other part
of India, the Communists are stronger than in any other part of India? It is a
curious coincidence that Kenya Colony, which has about as many Quakers as
England, is the center of Africa’s most violent rebellion against the West. What might have been the result if during the past two
centuries Christian missionaries had gone over the world, not as messengers
coming with the one true faith to the heathen, but as mutual searchers for the
truth, to discover what other religions have of value to us, and to share what
we have with others? What might have resulted if, instead of undertaking to
supplant other religions by our own we had gone prepared to respect the
indigenous religious cultures, had helped to stabilize them, to learn from
them, and to share with them what of value we have? Might we not have made
friends of other peoples, and might not Christianity be much richer for the
exchange? We may yet have time to change our attitudes and the attitudes of
non-Christian peoples toward us before almost complete spiritual alienation
takes place. It is my personal feeling that Christianity at its best has
greater value than any of the other great religions, but that most religions,
large and small, have values that we might acquire with profit. It is my
opinion, too, that the life outlook and teaching of Jesus were very different
from the religion which now bears his name. If it should be true that
Christians do have the one true faith whereby men may be saved, then perhaps
they should keep their present attitudes, though the heavens fall. But what if
they are mistaken? Suppose we consider that possibility. A small proportion of people acquire their major life
convictions through a process of intense objective inquiry and reflection. Most
of us, on the other hand, get our underlying convictions chiefly by social
inheritance or by the accident of circumstance. Most followers of Islam are
born of Moslem parents. The same is true of Christians, Hindus, Buddhists,
Shintoists and others. Each believes he or she has the one true faith and that
others are misled by error. This is a very significant fact, of which we seldom
get the full implication . It is the general policy in each religious faith to endeavor
to teach children the essentials of the faith and to surround them with such a
climate of indoctrination that they will have no inclination and almost no
capacity to question it or to depart from it. This is such an old, deeprooted
tradition in nearly all religions that we accept it as natural, and we do not
realize how it may perpetuate error and maintain barriers between peoples. This
purpose of indoctrination commonly is furthered by the influences of parents
and of the religious community, and in many cases by the prevailing social
atmosphere. Where such influences are fairly cumulative, a natural result is
that a very strong sense of inner assurance is developed concerning whatever
faith is involved. It often is immune to any contrary influence. The result is illustrated in the saying attributed to the
Catholic Church: “Give us a child until it is six, and the world may take it
thereafter.” That is, an intensive influence during the early years seldom is
overcome by later influence or by reflective thinking. (Compare the membership
of churches that call for unquestioning acceptance of tradition with those that
are the outgrowth of free inquiry.) Quite commonly the natural inclination to
inquire is so atrophied that it never re-emerges. As we look within ourselves
we realize how there lingers a feeling that it is a sin or a wrong to question.
Often some element of the old faith fades away with the years, and persons move
from one Christian denomination to another, while the main core of belief
remains. It is true of pagan faiths, as of Christianity, that commonly those
who stray away out of indifference or by conversion return to the old faith in
time of emergency. Where this conditioning is intensive and effective, the
inner feeling of certainty and assurance that results seems to be deeper than
experience or reason and to be independent of them. This feeling is briefly
referred to in an editorial in the Friends Intelligencer for Seventh Month, 19,
1952: “Friends know, because they have felt in their hearts.…This experience is to them so final
that they have little need of abstruse and subtle arguments.” (Mention of the
doctrine referred to is omitted here because I desire simply to indicate a
state of mind which may be induced, or which may exist.) Similar expressions of inner assurance of having the truth
may be found in the literature of many religions and concerning many doctrines,
such, for instance, as that the Book of Mormon is divinely inspired. I have
personally heard the most sincere and fervent testimony from Roman Catholics,
Christian Scientists, Mormons, Moslems, Buddhists, and Communists to the
ultimate authority of the inner voice. Many Africans have such inner assurance
concerning their own “pagan” faiths. The development of such complete and
unquestioning inner assurance is a result aimed at by most religious teaching
and religious conditioning in nearly all faiths, and by many people who strive
to bring about their own inner conditioning. Much of the teaching of saints and
mystics consists of instructions for such self-conditioning. In view of the fact that this inner feeling of assurance can
be, and is, developed with reference to a wide variety of religions and beliefs,
some of the beliefs mutually exclusive, it seems to me evident that this inner
feeling of certainty is not in itself adequate evidence of the truth of the
beliefs to which it is attached. Nearly every religion uses this feeling of
inner assurance of its own unique truth to fix and intensify the faith of its
followers as being different from, and superior to, all others. Until that
sense of inner assurance is recognized for what it is, actual inquiry
concerning one’s faith is difficult or impossible. The point of these remarks on indoctrination is this: When
Christians or Moslems or Hindus or Shintoists come to recognize the nature of
this inner assurance, and to see that it is not a unique characteristic of
their own faith, or of any particular faith, but can be developed with
reference to any faith, they will come to see that theirs is not the one true
faith, but that sincere people of all faiths are alike seeking for a way of
life, with varying degrees of success. Then they will come to see that all
sincere, open-minded people can seek together and travel together as brothers
and sisters.
At the cost of diverting from the main subject, in order to
prevent a misconception, I shall say something about conditioning and
indoctrination in general. Boys and girls usually take on the principal
characters of their lives while young, and before the process of reflective
thinking has matured. They take on their attitudes, beliefs and outlooks from
their environments by imitation, by teaching, by indoctrination, by example,
usually as unconsciously as they learn the mother tongue. It is the business of
society, including all the many associations which make up society, by example,
teaching, and indoctrination, to pass on to the next generation the finest elements
of the inherited culture, that part which of all human inheritance is most
precious. If we fail to do that, our children will not remain unindoctrinated
or untaught. They will acquire their view of life and their manners, beliefs,
attitudes and outlooks from casual playmates, from comic strips, radio,
television, and by the course of everyday life; and that pattern will be far
from the best of our cultural inheritance. Does this statement nullify everything I have said against
indoctrination? I think not. If we examine the great religions of the world we
will find that there is a great common core of attitude and of action in which
they are in harmony. In Christian literature the general character of this
common core may be illustrated by the Sermon on the Mount, in the fifth, sixth
and seventh chapters of Matthew, although it would seem that there have been
some interpolations which are foreign to the spirit of the whole. A similar way
of life is presented by nearly every other great religion, reflecting the
longtime conclusions of the spiritual leaders of the race. So long as the road to free inquiry is left open, this way
of life may properly be induced in boys and girls by example, by teaching, by
indoctrination, with little danger of its being discredited by mature, critical
inquiry. But along with these attitudes that are common to most great religions
there are other beliefs, special to the several religions, including
theologies, myths and dogmas, which seldom have acceptance beyond the boundaries
of the specific faith and which often are mutually antagonistic. Now, a large
part of conventional religious indoctrination deals with these controversial
doctrines on which there is no semblance of agreement, and concerning most of
which there is no clear evidence. Often the more completely without evidence
such doctrines are, the more vehemently are they indoctrinated, and the more
important are they held to be. Even in America, for instance, the vast amount
of time and effort used in inculcating these controversial doctrines very
greatly reduces the time and effort given to inculcating the universals of
religion such as those presented in the general spirit of the Sermon on the
Mount. The general answer to the problem of religious
indoctrination is this: Indoctrinate in the universals of world religion, by
word, but more especially by example. As to highly controversial doctrines, if
they are presented at all, it should be as tentative beliefs or opinions, to be
examined critically as maturity and competence make possible. At all times keep
open the road of sincere, free inquiry. (So much for a digression from the main
theme.)
Aside from the issue of war and peace, there is another
reason for the concern of many Friends that membership in the Society shall not
be conditioned on acceptance of the core of Christian theology. There are in
this country many men and women who see Christian theological doctrine as but
one of the world’s great religious myths and who yet are deeply concerned for
meaning and direction for their lives, and who would like to have their
children more at home in the best ethical and spiritual traditions of the great
religions. If Friends should welcome such in membership they might be opening
the way to a spiritual unity that many are seeking. Perhaps it is time for us to have a new experience, such as
Peter had. A born Jew, with a Jewish back ground, he was invited to visit a
Roman gentile. After great mental stress, he went, and said to his pagan host: Ye know how that it is an unlawful thing for a man that is a
Jew to keep company, or come unto one of another nation; but God hath showed me
that I should not call any man common or unclean.…Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons; but
in every nation he that feareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted
with him. That was a turbulent adjustment for Peter to make. Is the
lesson for us that Peter’s was the last change of attitude men would be called
to make, and that henceforth belief and the basis of fellowship would be
unchanging; or was it an example of the kind of change of outlook men are
called upon to make again and again, as they travel toward the light? Jesus broke the fetters of both Hebrew and Greek orthodoxy
and won a new freedom, just as Buddha had broken the fatalistic wheel of
Hinduism five centuries before. Martin Luther broke the bonds of a decadent
religious dictatorship and won freedom to worship according to his conscience.
George Fox broke the rigid and confining bonds of the Church of England for a
new spiritual freedom. Mahatma Gandhi broke the confining traditions of
Hinduism and helped free it to a larger pattern. He was forever growing and
changing. Yet within five years of his death some of his followers are freezing
his teaching into the particular last position he had before he died. In that
they are not following him but are denying him. To stop where the great spiritual pioneers stopped is to
betray their spirits. It is not where they stopped that calls for our loyalty,
but the spirit in which they lived and worked, including their willingness,
when necessary, to break old patterns and to make new ones. I believe that all
of the great world religions have limitations, through philosophy or tradition,
which quite certainly stops any one of them from being the faith and fellowship
in which mankind can find an inclusive basis for unity. Considerable time may
pass before a pattern for such unity shall emerge. Just as the Society of
Friends was prepared for by a century of free “searchers” in England, and just
as any great human advance is foreshadowed by long and gradual approach, may
not the Society of Friends help clear the way for an inclusive fellowship of
free and sincere spirits by receiving into fellowship and membership sincere searchers
for a way of life whose ways are compatible with those of Friends regardless of
the religious tradition by which they have come and without asking that they
adopt the orthodox Christian theology? Notwithstanding that most people inherit their convictions
without testing and examining them, there do occur in all lands individuals and
small groups who, sometimes through much stress of spirit, have broken from
traditional limiting dogmas and have sought freely and sincerely for a way of
life. For instance, a Friend from a very orthodox yearly meeting who has been
working in Egypt told me that he knew of serious young Egyptians who saw the
inadequacy of Islam and who longed for a larger fellowship but to whom
Christianity was just another of the religions of the past. This Friend said
that these young men would gladly welcome fellowship with other people of free
spirit who were in search of a way of life. I have met a number of such persons
in India. Where non-Christians have broken from their ancestral
pattern, not because they have adopted the basic Christian orthodoxy, but
because they seek a more inclusive fellowship in the search for truth, they
tend to be unattached and homeless. Yet they may be deeply committed to those
universals of conviction to which nearly all great religions are committed, and
of which the Golden Rule is a typical example. Can we extend them full
fellowship, or must they, so far as Friends are concerned, continue without
association? I do not speak for “quietism,” an attitude that has
sometimes characterized the Society of Friends. Respect for the beliefs of
others should not be the reason or the occasion for withdrawing into ourselves.
The day is past when different peoples can live to themselves. We are
interrelated, and we are bound to communicate. Either that communciation will
be as friends, sisters, and brothers facing the world together in the quest of
truth and of the good life, or it will eventuate in communication by means of
atom bombs and other instrumentalities of like purpose. In the original sense of the word we should be evangelists,
carriers of the good news. And what is that “good news”? Is it not that we are
brothers and sisters, with an equality of status in our search for a good way
of life, and that none of us can claim to have “the only true faith” which
others must accept in order to enter into that fellowship of life and hope? It
seems to me that the term “quietism” would be more appropriate to those who
would withdraw or remain withdrawn in limited associations of belief while the
world is anxiously searching for the grounds of unity. Should Quakers receive the Good Samaritan into membership?
Yes, if his or her life is consistent with the action in the parable. And in
many cases the life is consistent, whether it be the life of Samaritan, Moslem,
Buddhist, Confucian or “pagan” animist in Africa.
About The AuthorArthur E. Morgan was among the most influential Quakers of
his time. Raised a Baptist, he joined the Unitarians, and after marrying a
Quaker woman, he became a Friend, remaining one until his death in 1975.
Although trained as an engineer, he developed strong interests in both
education and world affairs. At the close of World War I he served as a charter
member and first secretary of the League to Enforce Peace an ideological precursor of the League of
Nations. In 1921 he was named president of Antioch College, and in the 1930s he
launched and directed the Tennessee Valley Authority, which brought electricity
and social services to the impoverished rural South. In 1938 he joined with
Clarence Pickett and other Quakers in founding the Celo Community in North
Carolina. One of his last crusades was a long but unsuccessful struggle to
preserve the reservation and communities of the Seneca Indians from destruction
by the Kinzua Dam in the 1960s. |