The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) recently ignited significant controversy through its social media presence, notably by featuring paintings that, upon closer inspection, appear to champion white supremacy and obscure the grim realities of colonial history. These curated artistic choices are more than mere aesthetic preferences; they represent a potent form of cultural messaging that subtly normalizes problematic historical narratives, raising profound questions about the ideologies guiding a key government agency.
Central to the recent outcry was the DHS’s post of John Gast’s 1872 painting, “American Progress.” This artwork, a brazen glorification of Manifest Destiny, depicts a blonde figure symbolizing progress advancing westward, followed by white settlers, while Indigenous peoples are shown fleeing into darkness. Beyond its widely acknowledged artistic shortcomings, the painting explicitly visually narrates the violent displacement and subsequent genocide of Native Americans. The DHS’s accompanying caption, “A Heritage to be proud of, a Homeland worth Defending,” shockingly reframes this brutal history as a source of national pride, underscoring a disturbing disconnect with historical truth.
The implications of such a post from a federal agency are far-reaching. By presenting “American Progress” in this celebratory light, the DHS effectively signals an endorsement of the very ideologies that fueled the systematic destruction of Indigenous cultures and populations. This is not merely an unfortunate misstep in digital communication; it is a clear instance of a governmental body lending its authority to a narrative that absolves historical perpetrators and diminishes the immense suffering of the victims, echoing sentiments often found within white nationalism circles.
Adding to the concern, the DHS also shared Morgan Weistling’s 2020 painting, “A Prayer for a New Life,” depicting a white settler family in a supposedly pristine Western landscape, devoid of any Indigenous presence. This particular image, titled “A New Life in a New Land” by DHS, exemplifies a violence of invisibility, where the absence of Native Americans in the depicted frontier serves to erase their existence and inherent claims to the land. This deliberate omission suggests a conscious effort to whitewash the frontier narrative, presenting it as a virgin land open for guilt-free colonization, a dangerous historical revisionism.
Notably, both Weistling and the estate of another artist whose work was similarly misused have publicly disavowed the DHS’s appropriation of their art, highlighting the agencies’ distortion of the artworks’ original context or intent. This disavowal underscores the manipulative nature of the DHS’s cultural messaging, which co-opts artistic creations to propagate a specific, ideologically charged viewpoint that aligns with a historical narrative of colonial expansion and disregard for Indigenous lives.
While some might dismiss these posts as mere “hokum and kitsch,” their deeper connection to contemporary US immigration policy cannot be overlooked. The article draws unsettling parallels between the historical Indigenous genocide in America—described by some historians as the “worst human holocaust”—and current governmental actions. The significant budget allocation for Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), already operating numerous facilities, suggests a continuity of a mindset where certain populations are deemed disposable or expandable, thus reinforcing the dangers of this nationalist rhetoric.
In this challenging context, resistance becomes essential, not just through material action but also through counter-aesthetics. The example of Native-American artist Charles Hilliard’s revision of “American Progress,” which replaces the avatar of Liberty with the sacred Lakota White Buffalo Calf Woman, offers a powerful alternative vision. Hilliard’s work reimagines a future where ecological devastation is erased, and Indigenous figures reclaim their rightful place, proving that challenging dominant narratives and dreaming of a better world are crucial steps in confronting a brutal colonial legacy and its modern manifestations.
