Austin Illini Club     

 The Chief

In February 2007, a U of I Board of Trustee (in a highly-questionable, unilateral, nighttime exercize of executive power) caved into pressure from the NCAA to stop using Chief Illiniwek as the official school symbol.  Unable to reverse the tide, full Board of Trustees subsequently ratified the political gambit later in the Spring 2007 semester.  As a result, the Chief Logo and the Chief Illiniwek dance at halftime were officially "retired" by the University, and the Chief made his final dance at the last home game of the 2006-2007 basketball season on February 21, 2007.

This page once served to express not only our support for The Chief, but also a brief history of The Chief that showed how The Chief symbol was not only not offensive, but honorable and hallowed.  Mascots and school symbols are most often picked as symbols of honor and pride--as embodiments of the character a school wants to portray and emulate--not as forms of ridicule or satire.  But with this turn of events, I wanted to explain our support from a more fundamental and personal level in addition to an academic and historical level further below.

As with most alumni, my own direct experience with the Chief at U of I was nothing but respectful and honorable.  Before I even knew or cared a thing about The Chief, I vividly recall the chills of joy that went down my spine when I first saw the Chief emerge from the Marching Illini to "Three In One."  It sounds corny, but everyone has similar moments and knows the feeling I describe.

Nobody told me he would be coming, and nobody prepared me with a discourse about the tradition or history of The Chief.  It came as a complete surprise.  But it was clear from the way he emerged and danced (only at halftime), as well as from the way the crowd reacted, that this dance was something special about U of I.  Not a hint of satirical humor, ridicule, or even inadvertent offensiveness came to mind then or now.  The image on field was bold, honorable, strong, defiant, proud: many the very best historical aspects of American Indian history and heritage embodied in one short dance.  I also instantly respected how The Chief did not prance around the sidelines performing silly antics like annoying and distracting (and potentially offensive) mascots would do at other schools. 

That is what makes the outcome so difficult to understand and accept; The Chief was a beloved symbol of honor and respect used only in that limited capacity: not a source of humor, satire, or offense.  It simply is dead wrong to consider The Chief an offensive school symbol.  Quite the contrary.

The other fundamental point is the following: when did "feeling offended"--especially at unintended offenses and even grossly misunderstood acts or symbols--suddenly become something from which you have a right to be free?  

Do only American Indians hold this new privilege, or may minority members of any suspect category also claim it?  Is it based on race, alone, or does gender, religion, or National Origin also receive such protection?  What if I only have one parent (or one grandparent) in a suspect class: may I still protest?  Do I have the same right as a Jew, as a male, as an alumnus of a Big Ten school living deep inside Big Twelve country, as a Northerner (a.k.a. "a damn Yankee") living in the South?  

As an attorney, do I have a newfound right to stop people from telling incredibly offensive lawyer jokes in my presence: jokes that are down-and-dirty meant to offend attorneys like me; offensive because they do not at all resemble my character nor the way I handle my clients or cases?  I have never, ever sued someone else for, say, my client's spilling coffee on himself, so do I get to stifle stereotypical images that unjustly lump me into that category of people?  

Of course not.  Such is the plight of living in a modern society.  I should need to rely on my own wit, character, patience, intelligence, or charm to stop, combat, offset, or (here's an idea) just plain ignore offensive conduct.  Or I should perhaps show some open-mindness, myself, and use some judgment to investigate whether the offense was intended or just the result of my completely misunderstanding the act I consider offensive.

What also bothers most Illini fans about the abandonment of The Chief is not just the odd, backwards decision, itself, but that the decision was forced upon us ultimately by someone with deep ties to our rival school, Indiana University.  The retirement of the Chief did not result from open and honest debate within the University family, but from bureaucratic and political gamesmanship where the minority interests--primarily from outside the University--undermined the popular will of our students, alumni, and even our own administration. 

To explain it in terms our friends in Austin would appreciate, envision the President of Oklahoma becoming the President of the NCAA, and soon thereafter announcing an "animal rights" policy that prohibited the enslavement of any mammals on a field of play.  The edict would apply to other schools, but you know it would be aimed at Bevo.  To non-Longhorns, Bevo is often considered a ridiculous tradition: especially considering that many cattle ranchers in Texas purposefully breed their cattle in hopes of rearing the next Bevo.  

Unfortunately, political and bureaucratic influences perpetuated misunderstandings about the Chief, mistakenly likening him to other American Indians symbols--like the Washington "Redskins" name, or the Atlanta Braves tomahawk chop, or the Cleveland Indians cartoon caricature of a smiling Indian--that more understandably raise the rancor of stereotyping and bigotry.  

Ultimately, the fact that minority-based American Indian protests fell on completely deaf ears for the offensive American Indian icons (Redskins, Braves, and Indians) encouraged such protestors focus their attention, rather ironically, on the least-offensive symbols such as Chief Illiniwek, whose custodians actively protected the honorable and austere image of Chief Illiniwek.  The Chief never pranced around the sidelines or engaged in any of the mocking, satirical antics of a mascot; instead, the Chief only made an appearance at halftime of sporting events to perform an authentic dance based upon a conglomeration of American Indian tribal dances, developed in cooperation with representatives of several American Indian tribes.

Nonetheless, being a University, the Chief protests received a more open-minded (albeit unpersuaded) audience at U of I.  The protests dated back to the 1970s, but only became a legitimate threat when Miles Brand (the former president of our rival Indiana University) implemented a policy against "hostile and offensive" school mascots and symbols: that any school 

Lawrence Page

Austin Illini

The following provides a brief (albeit now-futile) outline of The Chief's history and connection to Illinois as a defense of the use of the The Chief as our school symbol.  However, the fundamental irony of the entire debate and the unfortunate ending is that the Illiniwek were mostly exterminated by rival tribes in the 1700s, many of whose descendants became the most aggressive protestors of The Chief.  Thousands if not millions of modern-day people at least know something about the Illiniwek because of The Chief.  Thousands of graduates like us learned the history of the Illiniwek in great detail only because of The Chief.

The only reason for this wealth of knowledge about a mostly-extinct American Indian tribe is because the University in the 1920s decided to embrace the native heritage of the American Indians of the region for whom the State of Illinois was named.  If it were not for this purportedly-mocking, racist endeavor, then the legacy of the Illiniwek would disappear anonymously into the annals of history and scholarly texts, unknown and unheard of by most people.  The descendants of the tribes that exterminated the Illiniwek Tribal Federation, under the guise of protecting their image, ironically put another nail in the coffin of the Illiniwek's place in history.  

Additionally, instead of a University-controlled student group maintaining the honorable tradition of the Chief and monitoring its historical accuracy, the Chief image now will be bitterly retained by random students, many of them as drunk as the protestors feared, and many of whom have already started attending games dressed in silly costume regalia.  Nobody ever wore a ridiculous Indian headdress to games until the Chief was banned, but they started showing up once the decision to abandon The Chief was announced.  Doing so was considered offensive and inappropriate by Chief supporters when The Chief was our official school symbol.  

Chief Illiniwek was an entirely fictional character that served as the school symbol of the University of Illinois for over 80 years.  Developed by local Eagle Scouts in Champaign-Urbana during the 1920s as a way to advance and share their love and knowledge of native American Indian culture through the region, The Chief served as a bonding symbol of honor and pride around which all Illinois students, faculty and staff could rally.

The University is a State of Illinois entity, not just a University that happens to be in Illinois.  As the name obviously implies, the State of Illinois was named after the Illiniwek federation, making it fitting to choose "the Illini" as the namesake of its University and The Chief as its symbol in the 1870s.  

The term "Fighting Illini" became a part of University of Illinois tradition in the 1920s as a tribute to alumni who died "fighting" in World War One.  (Memorial Stadium was likewise built as a war memorial to the Illini alums who died fighting for our country in World War One.)  One other potential source that some have identified stemmed from the way in which Bob Zupke's "fighting" football teams dominated the Big Ten and the Nation from 1915-1925.  As such, the term did not stem from, and has never referred to, any attempt to mischaracterize Indians as mere brutal "fighting" savages, as many have falsely claimed.  

The Chief only appears in halftime celebrations and does not prance around the sidelines or demean Indians through comic antics like other mascots.  The student who portrays the Chief also works with American Indian descendants and learns about American Indian culture and history as a part of his training.  Few other mascots appreciate the culture they embody more than the students who endeavor to earn the honor to portray the Chief.

By the honorable way in which the Chief is used and beloved as a school symbol, the Chief also raised awareness of the bold spirit of the American Indian.  The Chief also kept the memory and history of the exterminated Illini federation alive and vibrant.  Having only a handful of descendants, the Illini would simply be another exterminated culture that has faded into historical obscurity.  

Many of the opponents of the Chief feel emboldened by the shocking irony of a white person portraying an American Indian given the history of white settler's mistreatment of American Indians: similar to a Nazi portraying and mocking a Jewish Rabbi.  Although that comparison glosses over historical nuances such as several Indian tribe's unmitigated desire to completely exterminate white settlers, it also more importantly glosses over historical distinctions between vastly different Indian cultures. 

Contrary to simplistic and ironically-racist stereotypes suggesting that all American Indian tribes fought all white settlers, the Illini were neither a tribe nor enemies of white settlers.  The Illini were a loose federation of smaller Indian tribes who generally were friendly allies of French settlers.  The French even joined the Illini in war against the Illini's true enemies: other Indian tribes such as the Iroquois, Fox, Pawnee, Sauk, Sioux, and Potawatomi tribes.  Indeed, one of the reasons for the Illini federation was to protect these small member tribes from these other, aggressive, rival Indian tribes.

These other tribes warred with the Illini federation for hundreds of years and ultimately reduced them to a few hundred people in the mid 1700s.  Some of the surviving descendants ended up in Miami, Oklahoma.  Some archaeological evidence suggests that some others were chased from the region southwards and were eventually exterminated by other Indian tribes in the Arkansas region.

Consequently, the irony of the persecutor misportraying the persecuted does not exist.  Indeed, the shocking irony is that many of the most ardent American Indian opponents of the Chief and the Illini name are, themselves, descendants of the very people and cultures who persecuted and exterminated the Illini.  Indeed, by protesting the Chief, the descendants of the actual persecutors are effectively attempting to eliminate any historical reference and knowledge of the persecuted Illini: putting what could be considered the final lid on their own ancestor's malfeasance in exterminating the Illini by eliminating their memory and legacy in addition to their existence.

Finally, the vast majority of the most devout opponents of the Chief are not American Indians, at all.  Indeed, a September 2004 poll of American Indians by the University of Pennsylvania found that a surprising 90% of American Indians did not consider even the most blatantly racist term "Redskins" an offensive team name.  Similarly, most of the surviving descendants of the lone remaining tribe that was a part of the Illini federation--the Peoria Indians in Miami, Oklahoma--are divided on the issue, with many not caring about it at all.  As the current Chief of the Peoria tribe has explained, "To be honest, our tribe frankly faces far more pressing issues than the use of a college mascot hundreds of miles from here."  Thus, the purported "horrifying offensiveness" is mostly fictional and the product of over-emotional academic theory, not valid empirical evidence.  

We encourage those who support and who protest the Chief to understand more about the Illini and about the student and alumni allegiance to The Chief before they blindly take sides.  Some informative websites are listed below.

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