The Long Road Home: NAGPRA and the Quest for Ancestral Justice
In the hallowed halls of museums and the dusty archives of universities across the United States, countless ancestors and their sacred belongings have lain for generations, far from their rightful homes and communities. These are not mere archaeological specimens or ethnographic curiosities; they are the physical embodiments of stolen histories, disrupted spiritual paths, and profound cultural loss for Native American, Native Hawaiian, and Alaska Native peoples. The Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA), signed into law on November 16, 1990, emerged as a landmark legislative attempt to rectify these historical injustices, offering a pathway for the return of human remains, funerary objects, sacred objects, and objects of cultural patrimony to their lineal descendants and culturally affiliated tribes.
Before NAGPRA, the collection of Native American remains and artifacts was often a brutal and unprincipled affair. The 19th and early 20th centuries saw a relentless assault on Indigenous burial sites, driven by a perverse blend of scientific curiosity, manifest destiny, and outright grave robbing. Expeditions, often funded by prominent institutions, systematically exhumed thousands of bodies from ancestral lands, including battlefields, former villages, and sacred burial grounds. These remains, along with associated cultural objects, were then transported to museums, universities, and federal agencies, cataloged, studied, and displayed, all without the consent or even knowledge of the descendant communities. This practice was deeply rooted in the prevailing colonial mindset, which often viewed Indigenous peoples as a "dying race" and their cultural heritage as scientific fodder, rather than living, breathing traditions.
The sheer scale of this collection is staggering. At the time of NAGPRA’s passage, it was estimated that over 200,000 Native American human remains were held in federal agencies and museums receiving federal funds. Many were labeled "culturally unidentifiable," a bureaucratic classification that often masked a lack of genuine effort to determine affiliation or a convenient excuse to retain collections. This historical backdrop of desecration and dispossession is critical to understanding the profound moral and spiritual imperative behind NAGPRA. As Suzan Harjo (Cheyenne and Hodulgee Muscogee), a key advocate for the law, once stated, "It’s not just bones. It’s our relatives." This sentiment encapsulates the core Indigenous perspective that ancestors are not objects but kin, deserving of respect, proper burial, and the continuation of their spiritual journey.
NAGPRA fundamentally shifted the legal and ethical landscape by recognizing the rights of Native American tribes to control their own cultural heritage. The act stipulates a clear process: federal agencies and museums receiving federal funds must inventory their collections of human remains and associated funerary objects, and provide summaries of unassociated funerary objects, sacred objects, and objects of cultural patrimony. Following this, they are mandated to consult with lineal descendants and culturally affiliated Native American tribes to facilitate repatriation. The law also establishes provisions for the protection of Native American graves and cultural items on federal and tribal lands, making the excavation or removal of such items a federal offense without proper permits and tribal consultation.
The impact of NAGPRA has been transformative, though its implementation has been far from perfect. For many tribes, the return of ancestors and sacred items represents a profound act of healing and cultural revitalization. Repatriation ceremonies often involve traditional songs, prayers, and reburials that restore spiritual balance and mend generations of trauma. "Bringing our ancestors home is like bringing a piece of our soul back," remarked a tribal elder during a reburial ceremony in Arizona. "It connects us to the past, strengthens us in the present, and guides us for the future." These acts are not merely about legal compliance; they are about restorative justice, affirming Indigenous identity, and rebuilding cultural continuity that colonization sought to dismantle. The return of specific sacred objects, such as ceremonial pipes or medicine bundles, has also allowed for the revival of dormant ceremonies and traditional practices, breathing new life into tribal cultures.
However, the journey of repatriation under NAGPRA has been slow and arduous. More than three decades after its enactment, a significant portion of the original collections remains unreturned. According to the National Park Service (NPS), which oversees NAGPRA implementation, as of 2023, approximately 120,000 Native American human remains are still unreturned, along with millions of associated funerary objects. This slow pace is attributable to several factors:
Firstly, funding remains a perennial challenge. Museums and tribes often lack the resources to conduct thorough inventories, research cultural affiliation, or physically transport and rebury repatriated items. The federal grants available for NAGPRA compliance have historically been insufficient to meet the overwhelming demand.
Secondly, the definition of "cultural affiliation" has been a contentious point. While NAGPRA defines it as "a relationship of shared group identity which can be reasonably traced historically or prehistorically between a present day Indian tribe or Native Hawaiian organization and an identifiable earlier group," proving this link across centuries, especially for displaced or extinct groups, can be difficult. Museums have sometimes used the ambiguity of "culturally unidentifiable" as a loophole to retain collections, arguing that a definitive link cannot be established. This often places the burden of proof unfairly on tribes, who must provide evidence against institutions that possess the very items in question.
Thirdly, institutional resistance persists. While many institutions have embraced the spirit of NAGPRA, others have been slow to comply, sometimes actively resisting repatriation claims. This resistance can stem from a desire to retain collections for research or display, a lack of understanding of Indigenous cultural perspectives, or simply bureaucratic inertia. The legal battles surrounding the "Kennewick Man" (known to tribes as "The Ancient One") – a prehistoric skeleton discovered in Washington State in 1996 – dramatically illustrated this tension. Although the discovery technically occurred after NAGPRA, the ensuing 20-year legal dispute between scientists seeking to study the remains and tribes asserting cultural affiliation highlighted the deep divisions and the scientific community’s reluctance to relinquish control over what they considered valuable research material. Ultimately, genetic evidence confirmed a direct link to modern Native Americans, and the remains were repatriated in 2017, but the case became a powerful symbol of the ongoing struggle.
Fourthly, the sheer volume and complexity of collections present a monumental task. Some institutions hold hundreds, even thousands, of individual remains and objects, each requiring meticulous research, consultation, and logistical planning for return. The process of disinterring ancestors from museum drawers and reburying them with dignity is emotionally and logistically taxing for all involved.
Despite these challenges, NAGPRA continues to evolve. Recent years have seen renewed momentum and calls for stronger enforcement. In January 2024, the Department of the Interior finalized significant updates to NAGPRA regulations, aiming to streamline the repatriation process, clarify roles and responsibilities, and strengthen tribal authority. These revisions place a greater emphasis on tribal consultation and consent, establish clear timelines for institutions, and make it harder for museums to claim items as "culturally unidentifiable." Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland (Laguna Pueblo), the first Native American cabinet secretary, has been a vocal advocate for these changes, stating, "For far too long, human remains and cultural items have been separated from their rightful homes. These updated regulations are a crucial step in fulfilling the promise of NAGPRA and ensuring that Indigenous peoples can bring their ancestors and cultural heritage home."
The journey under NAGPRA is far from over. It is a continuous process of education, negotiation, and reconciliation. The act is not merely a legal framework; it is a moral compass guiding institutions towards ethical stewardship and acknowledging the enduring sovereignty and cultural resilience of Native American peoples. The ancestors, silent for too long in museum storage, are slowly finding their way back to the embrace of their descendants. Each repatriation is a small but significant step in healing historical wounds, fostering respect, and reaffirming the fundamental human right to dignity, even in death. As the sun sets on another day, the hope remains that soon, all ancestors will finally rest in peace on their ancestral lands, their long road home complete.
