Member of the Tribes

by Eliezer Segal

A favourite cliché of American humour involves encounters between Jews and American indigenous peoples—“Indians,” according to the defunct terminology. This motif pops up in cinematic comedies like the Frisco Kid or Blazing Saddles, or in Canadian characters like Mordecai Richler’s Atuk and Solomon Gursky. The hilarity springs from the surprising unlikeliness of overlap between such totally dissimilar cultures—preferably if the Indians are speaking Yiddish.

Comical stereotypes aside, in the annals of the American west there was one Jew who did become the chief of an indigenous tribe. I am referring to Solomon Bibo who presided over the Pueblo village of Acoma, New Mexico, in the late nineteenth century. 

Bibo’s family hailed from Prussia and was part of the wave of Jewish migration, mostly from central Europe, that arrived in the United States following the suppression of the liberal uprisings of 1848. Shortly after landing in New York in 1869, he joined his brothers who were already established in commercial activities in Santa Fe.

The Pueblo people had experienced a long and bitter history of genocidal warfare and oppression under the Spanish colonial régime and the Catholic church, who were determined to eradicate their culture. By the time of Bibo’s arrival, under American rule, matters had reached a relatively moderate modus vivendi. Although the Pueblos were nominally Catholic, they maintained a clandestine, “Marrano”-style spirituality, practicing many of their traditional religious rituals under the guidance of tribal elders.

During Spanish rule, the Pueblos adopted European terminology for designating their political and administrative offices. Notably, the tribal chiefs were known as “governors.”

In the course of his commercial dealings with the Acomas, Bibo became deeply integrated into their society and culture (his detractors argued that this was motivated solely by opportunism), and the tribe granted his firm exclusive trading privileges. His marriage in 1885 to Juana Valle del Acomo, granddaughter of a tribal governor, secured his status as an acknowledged leader of the community. 

In those days, commercial privileges and tribal land claims were administered by the office of the federal Indian Commissioner. Solomon tried unsuccessfully to represent the Acoma’s interests in a land dispute before the American authorities. The Department of the Interior upheld the claim of the rival Laguna tribe who were represented by a white trader who had also married into that tribe.

In 1884 Solomon Bibo and his brother Simon became embroiled in an acrimonious dispute with the Indian Agent Pedro Sanchez and the competing merchants of the Marmon family over trading rights with the Acomas. Each side was able to produce petitions in support of or in opposition to the respective spokesmen, including records of formal votes. Although Bibo did not emerge victorious from the legal battle, the Acomas so esteemed him, and were so afraid of losing him, that in 1885 they elected him the governor of their tribe, a position that he held for several terms. 

The period of his governorship was one of rapid economic and social change in the United States; and the native communities of New Mexico were especially affected by the transcontinental railroads. 

One of Bibo’s principal interests was building a functional school system. The prevalent model at the time was virtually identical to the “residential school” structure that has caused so much grief in its infamous Canadian implementation. Indigenous students were to be distanced from their homes and forcibly prohibited from speaking their native languages or following any traditional customs. Bibo was a firm advocate of that philosophy, which he believed was essential for the integration of the natives into modern society. In 1889 (when he was not in office), he urged the arrest and punishment of a tribal governor who encouraged students to resist the official policy and follow traditional Pueblo customs. The controversy continued to divide the community and likely contributed to his decision to leave Acoma and settle in San Francisco.

Other than as an incidental feature of his ancestry, was Bibo’s Judaism a relevant factor in shaping his life and personality? 

On the one hand, we must note that he married a native woman in a union that had political and economic overtones; and the wedding was celebrated in both a native ceremony at a Catholic church and in a civil ceremony before a justice of the peace. However, this was likely dictated by the fact that in those days there was no available rabbi or Jewish institution in the territory. The fact that the couple chose to be cremated should also not be taken as a rejection of his Judaism, since the option seems to have been quite acceptable among many Jews at that time. Juana did undergo a conversion to Judaism, though it is not clear under what auspices. At any rate, their marriage was a stable one that lasted long after they had left New Mexico.

Indeed, Solomon’s father Isak had served as a synagogue cantor in the old country, so Solomon’s familiarity with Jewish traditions must have had some substance to it. Indeed, a family friend recalled that Judaism was important to him. Though several factors (including the persistent political squabbles) might have motivated the couple to leave Acoma for San Francisco, there is good reason to suppose that a serious consideration was their desire to avail themselves of good Jewish educational opportunities that allowed their children to be raised as Jews. In San Francisco, Solomon and Juana were active congregants of Temple Emanuel. Looking at the families of Solomon’s brothers who lived similar lives in New Mexico, we find that several of their offspring married Jewish partners and retained their Judaism—an unusual phenomenon on the American frontier.

A valuable element facilitating Bibo’s successful integration into so many diverse cultures was his aptitude for European and native American languages: Acoma, English, German, Laguna, Navajo, Spanish and Zuni.

One of the languages that he mastered was Yiddish—which might qualify him for a role in a Mel Brooks comedy.

---

My email address is: [email protected]