The Silent Crisis: Missing and Murdered Indigenous Men Demand Justice
While the tragic epidemic of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women (MMIW) has garnered increasing, and much-needed, attention, a parallel crisis of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Men (MMIM) often remains shrouded in silence. This oversight is not merely an imbalance in public discourse; it represents a profound failure of justice, a perpetuation of systemic inequities, and a devastating blow to Indigenous families and communities already grappling with intergenerational trauma. The stories of these missing sons, fathers, brothers, and uncles cry out for recognition, resources, and a concerted effort to dismantle the structures that allow their disappearances and deaths to go uninvestigated and unpunished.
Precise data on MMIM is notoriously difficult to obtain, a testament to the very problem it seeks to highlight: a systemic lack of comprehensive tracking and reporting. However, various studies and anecdotal evidence paint a grim picture. The U.S. Department of Justice reported in 2016 that Indigenous men are victims of violent crime at rates more than double that of white men. They are disproportionately represented in homicide statistics and face higher rates of assault. Yet, when an Indigenous man goes missing or is found dead, the response often lacks the urgency and resources afforded to non-Indigenous cases, or even, at times, to cases involving Indigenous women.
Behind these numbers are the faces of individuals whose lives held value, whose futures were stolen, and whose absence leaves an unfillable void. Take the case of Christopher St. John, a member of the Oneida Nation of Wisconsin, who vanished in 2017. His family spent years searching, often feeling like their pleas fell on deaf ears. "It’s like they just don’t matter," laments Mary Two Bears, whose brother vanished five years ago from the reservation border town, echoing a sentiment heard across Indian Country. "The police just assume they ran off, or they were involved in something they shouldn’t have been. There’s no real effort to find them." This dismissive attitude, rooted in harmful stereotypes, is a pervasive barrier to justice.
The roots of the MMIM crisis are deeply embedded in the historical and ongoing impacts of colonialism, which have systematically dismantled Indigenous societies, economies, and traditional support systems. The forced assimilation policies, the trauma of residential schools, and the systematic erosion of traditional cultural practices have left indelible scars, contributing to cycles of poverty, substance abuse, and mental health challenges. These vulnerabilities, often exacerbated by a lack of access to adequate healthcare and social services, leave Indigenous men disproportionately susceptible to exploitation and violence.
When a disappearance or murder occurs on or near tribal lands, a complex jurisdictional maze often emerges. Law enforcement responsibilities can be divided among tribal, state, and federal agencies, leading to confusion, delays, and a lack of clear accountability. Tribal law enforcement agencies are often underfunded and understaffed, lacking the resources and training to conduct thorough investigations, especially in complex cases involving cross-jurisdictional elements. State and federal agencies, on the other hand, may prioritize other cases, lack cultural competency, or simply fail to communicate effectively with tribal authorities. This jurisdictional ambiguity can lead to critical delays, lost evidence, and a lack of accountability, effectively allowing perpetrators to evade justice and contributing to the cycle of violence.
A particularly insidious contributing factor to the MMIM crisis is the proliferation of "man camps" associated with resource extraction industries such as oil, gas, and mining. These temporary housing facilities, often located on the periphery of Indigenous communities, bring in large numbers of transient, predominantly male, non-Indigenous workers. Studies have consistently linked the presence of these camps to increased rates of violent crime, including sexual assault, domestic violence, and disappearances, impacting both Indigenous women and men. The transient nature of the workforce makes investigations difficult, as perpetrators can easily leave the area, disappearing without a trace, much like their victims.
The relative silence surrounding MMIM, compared to the increasing awareness of MMIW, is a critical aspect of this crisis. Indigenous men are often unfairly stereotyped as perpetrators rather than victims, particularly within the criminal justice system and broader society. This deeply harmful narrative contributes to a societal desensitization to their suffering. The idea that "men are tough" or "can handle themselves" can further minimize their victimhood, leading to less empathy from law enforcement and the public alike. Moreover, the intersections of race, gender, and socio-economic status mean that Indigenous men, especially those who are poor, homeless, or struggling with addiction, are often deemed "less worthy" of investigation and public concern.
Families of missing and murdered Indigenous men often find themselves fighting a battle on multiple fronts: against the grief of their loss, the indifference of authorities, and the systemic biases that diminish the value of their loved one’s life. They face the emotional toll of relentless searching, the financial burden of private investigators, and the frustration of stalled or non-existent investigations. "We just want answers," says Sarah Black Elk, whose brother disappeared from a remote highway stop. "We want someone to care enough to look, to ask questions, to treat his life like it mattered."
While the MMIW movement has rightly brought critical attention and resources, it’s essential that the narrative expands to include Indigenous men. Advocates emphasize that these are not separate issues but interconnected facets of a larger crisis of violence against Indigenous peoples, stemming from the same colonial roots and systemic failures. "We cannot achieve true justice for our women if we ignore the violence against our men," states Robert Greywolf, a community organizer and advocate for MMIM. "Our communities are hurting as a whole. We need a holistic approach to healing and justice that recognizes the value of every Indigenous life."
The path forward requires a multi-faceted approach, starting with improved data collection. Comprehensive, disaggregated data that specifically tracks missing and murdered Indigenous men is crucial to understanding the true scope of the crisis and allocating appropriate resources. This requires collaboration between tribal, state, and federal agencies to standardize reporting mechanisms and ensure accurate classification of cases.
Beyond data, there is an urgent need for enhanced law enforcement response. This includes mandatory cultural competency training for all officers working in or near Indigenous communities, increased funding and resources for tribal police departments, and the establishment of clear protocols for inter-jurisdictional cooperation. Investigations must be conducted with the same diligence and resources as any other case, free from racial bias or preconceived notions about the victim.
Community-led solutions are also vital. Indigenous communities often possess the deepest understanding of the challenges and needs of their people. Supporting community-based search efforts, victim advocacy programs, and culturally relevant healing initiatives can provide crucial support to families and help prevent future violence. Legislative action, such as expanding the scope of existing bills like Savanna’s Act (which focuses on MMIW) to explicitly include Indigenous men, could also provide much-needed federal resources and mandates.
The silence surrounding Missing and Murdered Indigenous Men is a wound that continues to fester, tearing at the fabric of Indigenous families and communities. It is a stark reminder of how historical injustices continue to manifest in contemporary violence and systemic neglect. To truly address this crisis, society must confront its biases, acknowledge the full spectrum of violence impacting Indigenous peoples, and commit to a future where the lives of Indigenous men are valued, protected, and honored. It is a demand for recognition, for resources, and for a fundamental shift in how society values Indigenous lives. Only then can the silent cries for justice finally be heard and answered.
