I don’t come up often, but I appreciate our barn’s old hayloft. Some of the original loft equipment remains, too. Currently, it’s mostly a sanctuary for the cats and the bats.
It went from outdoor sweater weather to “where’s my Carhartt” real fast this afternoon.
Finally got my reupholstered reading chair back and situated in the study. Nice to have it in good shape again.
The Rebellion Lives
The Sagebrush Rebellion lives on:
The state is asking the justices to declare that the federal government’s ownership of millions of acres of public lands in the state’s borders is unconstitutional. The United States currently holds title to more than 18.5 million acres of “unappropriated” public lands within Utah’s borders, meaning that it is not currently set aside or designated for any specific purpose.
Utah’s stance is remarkably similar to Nevada in 1979, when the state legislature passed Assembly Bill 413 attempting to seize the public lands and place their management under the control of the state. The movement among western ranchers in the 1970s and 1980s appeared poised to succeed, particularly after President Reagan’s appointment of James Watt—a native of Wyoming with a long history of legal disputes with the federal government’s land agencies—as the Secretary of the Interior, which housed the Bureau of Land Management.
The Rebellion had its roots among miners, loggers, and ranchers across the American West who decried the “federal colonialism” of the government’s ownership of public lands. This was particularly pronounced across the Intermountain West, where Utah, Nevada, and Wyoming led a grassroots movement outlining a state’s rights argument towards the public lands. The argument centered around new environmental regulations, particularly those outlined in the 1976 Federal Land Policy and Management Act, which mandated the public lands would be managed “in perpetuity” by the federal government.
Western ranchers had well-earned attachments to the land, and any possibility of those lands facing outsider intervention would be met with consternation. Nor was the Rebellion the first time western ranchers turned to collective power to assert their property rights. But federal regulators were understandably concerned about the ecological health of the federal lands.
Total Federal Land in the American West and Great Plains, 2018
| State | Total Federal Acreage | Percentage Federally Owned |
|---|---|---|
| Alaska | 222,666,580 | 60.9% |
| Arizona | 28,077,992 | 38.6% |
| California | 45,493,133 | 45.4% |
| Colorado | 24,100,247 | 36.2% |
| Idaho | 32,789,648 | 61.9% |
| Kansas | 253,919 | 0.5% |
| Montana | 27,082,401 | 29.0% |
| Nebraska | 546,852 | 1.1% |
| Nevada | 56,262,610 | 80.1% |
| New Mexico | 24,665,774 | 31.7% |
| North Dakota | 1,733,641 | 3.9% |
| Oklahoma | 683,289 | 1.5% |
| Oregon | 32,244,257 | 52.3% |
| South Dakota | 2,640,005 | 5.4% |
| Texas | 3,231,198 | 1.9% |
| Utah | 33,267,621 | 63.1% |
| Wyoming | 29,137,722 | 46.7% |
The Rebellion failed to achieve its goal in the 1980s, but that didn’t mean the politics of the land exited as well. Having failed in achieving the goal of transferring public lands to private hands through executive power, the Rebellion turned to new avenues: more forceful direct action (including stand-offs with government agents in Nevada and Oregon) and legal action. Thus, Utah v. United States is a continuation of political energies that began to coalesce in the 1960s and 1970s but expressed in a new way: the policy arguments are not new, but the legal ones are.
Yet even as these legal arguments make their way through the courts, the emotional appeal remains similar. Utah’s congressional delegation have referred to the dispute as being “held captive” by federal policies that denied them an “equal” statehood. “The reduction in Utah’s effective congressional power,” the legislators argued, “reduces the state’s effective representation as compared to other states, undermining the state’s equal representation.” Hardly a novel emotional appeal. As Nevada state senator Normal Glaser, an Elko cattle rancher instrumental in Nevada’s 1979 legislation, argued: “We’re tired of being pistol-whipped by the bureaucrats and ambushed and dry-gulched by federal regulations.” The idea that western states bear an overwhelming burden of far-eastern government meddlers is an old tale.
The Return of the Prairie Populists
In 1892, the People’s Party gathered in Omaha to declare within their first platform that “we have witnessed for more than a quarter of a century the struggles of the two great political parties for power and plunder, while grievous wrongs have been inflicted upon the suffering.” Prairie progressives seem poised to reclaim that platform.
The northern American plains are undergoing something of a progressive-populist resurgence, epitomized by Dan Osborn in Nebraska and Tim Walz in South Dakota. While the faux-populism and American First nativism of Donald Trump continues to capture voters in the deeply red states of the northern plains, there’s a long history of prairie progressivism that remains embedded in the region’s political culture. This is, after all, the same region that produced Luna Kellie and George Norris in Nebraska, Bob La Follette in Wisconsin, Henry Loucks in South Dakota, Arthur C. Townley in North Dakota, and widespread Alliance and Populist movements in the early twentieth century. These political movements fused labor-agrarian-populist sentiments that led to things like North Dakota’s state ownership of banks, rail lines, and grain mills, as well as long-standing alliances between farmers and laborers.
Nor are these histories isolated to the turn of the century. On November 1, 1983, “Solidarity Day” led farmers to provide free breakfasts at a North Minneapolis YMCA, where United Auto Workers leader Bob Killeen and Minnesota civil rights activist Spike Moss spoke before an at-capacity venue. Farmers and activists then drove the two hours north to Minnesota’s Iron Range, where 65% of miners faced unemployment. Minnesota also gave us Paul Wellstone, the college professor-turned-state senator whose rural campaigning style on progressive policies led him to win his underdog race in 1990 (in the wake of the senator’s death in a plane crash in 2002, aides and supporters started Camp Wellstone to work with and train politicians, activists, and operatives. Tim Walz was an attendee.)
Throughout the early 2000s the northern plains steadily became redder as Democrats embraced neoliberalism and Republicans pursued cultural politics: David Minge lost his seat in 2000, Tom Daschle in 2004, and Republicans flipped seats across Iowa, Nebraska, South Dakota, North Dakota, and Wisconsin.
Flipped Northern Plains Congressional Seats, 2000-2024
| Incumbent | Challenger | State | Year | Position |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| David Minge (D) | Mark Kennedy (R) | MN | 2000 | House |
| Tom Daschle (D) | John Thune (R) | SD | 2004 | Senate |
| Bob Kerrey (D) | Deb Fischer (R) | NE | 2012 | Senate |
| Heidi Heitkamp (D) | Kevin Cramer (R) | ND | 2018 | Senate |
| Jason Lewis (R) | Angie Craig (D) | MN | 2018 | House |
| Erik Paulsen (R) | Dean Phillips (D) | MN | 2018 | House |
| Kevin Yoder (R) | Sharice Davids (D) | KS | 2018 | House |
| Rod Blum (R) | Abby Finkenauer (D) | IA | 2018 | House |
| David Young (R) | Cindy Axne (D) | IA | 2018 | House |
| Dan Feehan (D) | Jim Hagdorn (R) | MN | 2018 | House |
But there’s a sense in which populist-progressives are regaining ground. For Walz, winning over southern Minnesota, a fairly conservative place, is in and of itself remarkable and a testament to learning from Wellstone’s rural campaigning methods. But he’s also supported “fair trade” and family farmers, and has famously expanded free lunch programs, signed climate-friendly pledges, and codified the right to abortion in Minnesota, supported labor rights, created a public option for Minnesota healthcare, and signed a $2.6 billion package in 2023 for funding construction jobs.
Nebraska is also feeling the pull of progressive politics. The unlikely candidacy of Dan Osborn, an independent candidate and union leader known for leading a strike at Kellogg’s Omaha plant in 2021, is very close to unseating two-term Republican senator Deb Fischer. Osborn has seemingly filled a void between neoliberal Democrats and left-leaning grassroots momentum once filled by producer-populists, union allies, and anti-monopolists. Osborn has situated himself within this blue-collar populist vein—a Navy veteran, father of three, and fired for his union organizing and retrained to be a steamfitter—as he strikes back at both Fischer and the Democratic Party’s “corporate agenda.” His criticisms are what I’d consider purely midwestern: appealing to Nebraskans who strongly dislike outside influence, whether that’s an unaccountable federal bureaucracy or corporate multinationals. His message is clear: to rebuild rural communities, we have to support workers. And by denying support from the state’s Democratic Party, he’s situating his argument that the Democratic Party is so weakened in rural places that they are not any use in the race.
It’s an interesting contrast to Minnesota, where the DFL has regained governing power, while Democrats in Nebraska struggle to become more than just token opposition. Despite that, there are strong left-leaning political traditions on the American plains that Walz and Osborn tapped in to and which points towards a way for Democrats to regain ground. We’ll see how this plays out in other plains states on Tuesday.
Wendell Berry in The Unsettling of America:
Whereas the exploiter asks of a piece of land only how much and how quickly it can be made to produce, the nurturer asks a question that is much more complex and difficult: What is its carrying capacity? (That is: How much can be taken from it without diminishing it? What can it produce dependably for an indefinite time?) The exploiter wishes to earn as much as possible by as little work as possible; the nurturer expects, certainly, to have a decent living from his work, but his characteristic wish is to work as well as possible.
The Legacies of the Bundyville Stand-off
Leah Sottile, host of the fantastic Bundyville podcast and contributor to High Country News, writes on the continuing legacy of the Bundyville stand-off.
When the Bundys declared victory, it was hailed as a win for their vision of the American West. It was a victory for the entire far-right antigovernment militia movement and paved the way for ultra-conservative ideas to dominate the Republican Party’s agenda.
She includes some citations to recent important work by Benjamin Park, Sam Jackson, and Jessica Pishko.
One of the things I’m tracking in my new research on the Sagebrush Rebellion is how the rebellion played out in the northern Plains and Canadian prairies. There is, undoubtedly, a continuing legacy of far-right, anti-government ideology underlying its legacy.
But, at least so far in my work, I don’t see this same ideology expressed so forcefully on the plains and prairies. Yet, I still see the importance of ideology, or perhaps identity, in the plains version of the movement. After all, the movement on the plains dealt with considerably less actual public lands—you can combine the entirety of federal lands across the Great Plains and come nowhere close to the percentage of land the federal government manages in Nevada alone—yet the movement still finds purchase. The thread I’m currently following: how much does the ideology and identity of the rebellion define how it acts on the plains? If the plains-style movement is less concerned about federal land, then it must be concerned with something else.
Goals
For reasons not entirely sorted in my own mind, I’ve decided to start a new writing space on the web. I have my long-standing blog at my website that I’ve mostly used for digital history writing, which I feel is rather pigeonholed into those topics. But I wanted a writing space that feels more freeform and, frankly, frictionless. Since my site runs on Hugo, there’s a kind of friction that exists in writing and deploying – one I could certainly resolve pretty easily, but I just haven’t.
Instead of starting up a new Hugo site or rethinking how I design and write posts on my main site, I’ve decided to start this new venture fully on micro.blog.
So, what is Tack & Ink? I think of this post as defining some contours for the blog. I suspect this site will replace my current (and largely defunct) Buttondown newsletter which always fit a bit uneasily into how and what I wanted to write (that’s not shade against Buttondown, it’s a fantastic service I wish I could figure how to fit into my writing). But, who knows, perhaps writing here means finding a new kind of invigoration for Buttondown.
The idea here is I want to write about a variety of topics. There will be less digital history and more about my historical research and, relatedly, as you’ll see dear reader, our acreage in the tall grass prairies of central Nebraska. The goal here is a combination of things: curation about things I read, with commentary, that I think others will like; improve my skill as an essayist; sharing of historical sources I find interesting; thinking out loud and in public on the open web.