This dissertation asks how indigenous counter-narratives trouble democratic theory and politics. In particular it focuses on American Indians, and is especially attuned to the historically situated cultural dilemmas that attend the indigenous politics of self-determination and survivance in America. However, this focus is situated in the broader context of the global struggles of indigenous peoples, the historical contexts of European imperial expansion and colonization, the diverse relationships that have developed among settler societies and indigenous peoples in the West, and the various attempts to transform these relationships. The argument is that democratic cultures may, however paradoxically, be founded and maintained through exclusionary practices, but the true paradox emerges not when democracies embark on colonial projects, but rather when they seek to bring them to a close.

In the course of its investigation, the dissertation hones in on a series of interrelated case studies, all of which upend predominant assumptions in the field of democratic thought in some sense. By looking closely at the way the Pocahontas founding legend shaped early twentieth century miscegenation law, for instance, I reveal the racial politics which belie Rousseau's famous paradox of democratic founding.

Likewise, in a chapter on the Indian gaining movement, I reveal the extent to which the tactic of economic development deployed on reservation lands exceeds traditional democratic frameworks of sovereignty. In a third case study I focus on how articulation practices are being drawn upon in indigenous Hawaiian (Kanaka Maoli) separatist movements, significantly defying democratic theory's treatment of secession. The repatriation of American Indian funerary remains makes for another case study. In that chapter I argue that tragic theories of recognition significantly complicate the way reconciliation for past injustices is ordinarily framed. The final chapter looks at William Apess—Pequot Indian, Methodist Minister, and leader of the 1833 Mashpee Revolt—and asks how his provocative, untimely writings challenge democratic conceptions of equality.

In the end, I argue that the interruptions and interventions staged by indigenous political claims are constructive for the democratic tradition: they hold clues for democratic regeneration and renewal. By studying the ways indigenous peoples have served as constitutive others for democratic polities, and especially what happens when they call either for incorporation or separation from them, we can carve some analytical inroads into the heart of democratic lifeworlds. My aim is to track those inroads, to compass a world shot with light.