The last warrior : Peter MacDonald and the Navajo Nation /

"Dealing with diversity" is a catchphrase in education, business, even law enforcement; this autobiography of the longtime chairman of the Navajo nation (currently in prison appealing tribal-court convictions for bribery, conspiracy, and ethics and election-law violations) suggests just how poorly the U.S. has handled diversity, even in the late-twentieth century, in its dealings with native Americans. A World War II veteran and engineer who headed Hughes Aircraft's Polaris missile project, MacDonald returned to Arizona in 1963, set up the Navajo war-on-poverty programs, was elected the tribe's chairman for three consecutive terms, and was returned to office in 1986. Detractors see MacDonald as the most corrupt Navajo chairman ever; defenders note that different cultures embody different ethical standards and that many of his accusers violated the tribe's ethics more egregiously than the chairman infringed on "white man's rules." Until a definitive history of U.S.-Navajo relations over the past quarter-century is written, this autobiography provides an important corrective to the sanitized official version of the complex cultural, sociological, political, and economic issues at the heart of MacDonald's story. ~--Mary Carroll

MacDonald, the former head of the Navajo Tribal Council, is now in a Navajo jail serving 20 years of combined tribal and federal sentences for election-law violations, bribery and corruption. Ably assisted by Schwarz ( The Hillside Strangler ), he here recalls events that led him, once an engineer with a promising future at Hughes Aircraft, first to leadership of his people and then to disgrace. Returning to work on the reservation in the 1960s, MacDonald wrested the power to administer funds for the anti-poverty programs from the Bureau of Indian Affairs. As three-term Tribal Chairman, he fought for new federal and private assistance programs outside the control of politics and the BIA. When his efforts to secure mineral leases and water rights threatened the states of Arizona and New Mexico, he ran afoul of Barry Goldwater and others in power. In 1988 three grand juries in turn refused to indict him; in 1989 he was found guilty of the above charges in a trial he convincingly maintains was politically motivated. Acknowledging that accepting donations to his election campaign from non-Navajo sources violated tribal law, MacDonald persuasively argues that other charges were unfairly pursued, e.g., the agency for Navajo Economic Opportunity that he founded and ran was audited more than 100 times in four years. His story is an absorbing account of conflicting cultures and customs. Photos. (Nov.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

MacDonald served four terms as Navajo tribal chairman between 1970 and 1989. In this account, he describes his traditional upbringing on the reservation, his training as a Navajo code talker in World War II, and his experiences as an electrical engineer for Hughes Aircraft. He devotes the major part of his story to his attempts to help his people regain control of their own destiny, which brought him into conflict with the Bureau of Indian Affairs, wealthy mining interests, and leading Arizona political figures. More than an autobiography, this book is an examination of the dilemma faced by all native peoples--how to maintain their integrity in a world that doesn't understand or respect their culture. MacDonald's attempted solutions put him behind bars. Recommended for Native American collections and anyone interested in the problems facing the Indian tribes today.-- Stephen H. Peters, Northern Michigan Univ. Lib., Marquette (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Here, deposed Navajo tribal chairman MacDonald, convicted last fall of corruption, tells (with the aid of Schwarz--The Hillside Strangler, etc.) his side of the story. As an autobiography of a contemporary Native American, his tale is absorbing; as an exploration of guilt, it is an exercise in finger-pointing and excusatory moral relativism. MacDonald's rise to naat'aannii, or leader, of the 200,000 Navajo in Arizona, Utah, and New Mexico is also an interesting look at the history, culture, and organization of the tribe. Educated in Bureau of Indian Affairs schools, MacDonald drifted from job to job and was once an apprentice medicine man. Eventually trained as an electrical engineer, he left his job at Hughes Aircraft in 1963 to head the Office of Navajo Economic Opportunity, which led to his election in 1970 as tribal chairman. An effective leader and shrewd businessman, he garnered good deals for the tribe's oil, coal, and gas, and managed extensive improvements in roads, sewers, and housing. However, his ``imperial chairmanship'' brought charges of corruption as early as 1977. The Hopi-Navajo land disputes and his bitter feud with Barry Goldwater (who, MacDonald claims, tried to have him killed in 1976) culminated in vicious infighting and the death of two of his followers. By the late 1980's, MacDonald's penchant for hot tubs, BMWs, and chartered planes and his involvement in a multimillion-dollar land deal led to a Senate investigation. Despite admitting his acceptance of ``gifts'' from ``friends,'' and despite his own son's testimony against him, MacDonald claims here that the Senate committee ``deliberately framed him''by withholding evidence. His overvaluation by $7 million of the ``Big Bo'' ranch was ``just the way good old boys play the Arizona real estate game,'' and his acceptance of cash payments was ``no different from those of many U.S. congressional representatives and senators.'' Perversely fascinating, but MacDonald's painting himself as a victim of history and politics will convince few. (Twenty-one pages of photographs--not seen.)