Expanded Chapter from Yates’ Old Souls in a New World
© Donald N. Yates 2005-2015
Old Souls in a New World, by Donald N. Yates
Published September 2013 by Panther’s Lodge
Cherokee Chapbooks #7
What if the history of America’s largest Indian nation is actually a polite modern fiction, one invented by “anthropologists and other friends”? In this sweeping revisionist study of the Cherokee Indians, a scholar trained in classical philology and the new science of genetics discloses the inside story of his tribe. Combining evidence from historical records, esoteric sources like the Keetoowah and Shalokee Warrior Society, archeology, linguistics, religion, myth, sports and music, and DNA, this first new take on the subject in a hundred years guides the reader, ever so surely, into the secret annals of the Eshelokee, whose true name and origins have remained hidden until now. The narrative starts in the third century BCE and concludes with the Cherokees’ removal to Indian Territory in the nineteenth century, when all standard histories just begin. The ancient Egyptians, Greeks, Jews, Romans and Phoenicians have long departed from the world stage. The Cherokee remain after more than two thousand years and are their heirs.
About the Author
Donald N. Yates was born in Cedartown, Georgia. He attended Stetson University, University of Vienna, University of Freiburg, Duke University and University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, where he earned a Ph.D. in classical studies with a concentration on Medieval Latin Studies. His books include The Bear Went over the Mountain, Los Lunas Decalogue Stone and Old World Roots of the Cherokee. With Elizabeth C. Hirschman, he authored The Early Jews and Muslims of England and Wales: A Genetic and Genealogical History. He lives in Colorado.
“The Hopis’ Elder White Brother” (chapter from Old Souls in a New World, by Donald N. Yates, Panther’s Lodge Publishers, 2013)
Ever since publication of The Book of the Hopi in the 1960s the legends of the Hopi Indians of Arizona have been central to any discussion of diffusionism and the origins of North American Indians. In this, the first chapter of a new book about Greek, Egyptian and other Mediterranean cultural traits in the Cherokee Indians, it is suggested that the nucleus of the tribe we now know as the Hopi can be traced to Egypt, that the Hopi worldview contains elements of Hellenistic science and philosophy and that many of the religious terms used in their ceremonies are based on the ancient Egyptian language. The Hopis and the Cherokee, in other words, are related and share roots in the Old World of classical antiquity.
1 THE HOPIS’ ELDER WHITE BROTHER
History is nothing but the soul’s old wardrobe.
“All the lights in the House of the High Priests of American Anthropology are out; all the doors and windows are shut and securely fastened (they do not sleep with their windows open for fear that a new idea might fly in); we have rung the bell of Reason, we have banged on the door with Logic, we have thrown the gravel of Evidence against their windows; but the only sign of life in the house is an occasional snore of Dogma. We are very much afraid that no one is going to come down and let us into the warm, musty halls where the venerable old ideas are nailed to the walls.”
These biting words were penned by Harold Sterling Gladwin in Men out of Asia, the famous archeologist’s most popular non-technical work. Published in 1947, Gladwin’s book presented a maverick view of the peopling of the Americas, identifying five migrations of diverse races including Negrittoes and Austronesians to the New World. Heretically, he placed the first migration as early as 25,000 years ago and argued that the earliest colonists were Australoid.
The reaction of his colleagues in the anthropological establishment was stony silence, tinged with harumphs and pshaws of injured pride. Gladwin illustrated Men out of Asia with droll cartoons by Campbell Grant making fun of the sacred keepers of knowledge at the Peabody Museum at Harvard, Carnegie Foundation and Smithsonian Institution. In one, the dean of Southwest and Maya archeology Alfred V. Kidder is depicted as Dr. Phuddy Duddy sitting in academic robes atop a factory whistle sounding the alarm of illogical chronology. In another, a bespectacled Gladwin and his tweedy friend Professor Earnest Hooton of Harvard are shown in the academic doghouse “by request.”
The Establishment is still uncomfortable about Gladwin, who died in 1983 after a distinguished career of more than sixty years. Although willing to praise his meticulous fieldwork on the Hohokam at Snaketown and exacting methodologies developed at the research center he founded at Gila Pueblo outside Globe, Arizona, they do not know quite what to say about his conclusions and hypotheses, which grew more adamant toward the end of his life. The destroying angel of unorthodox theories, Stephen Williams of the Peabody Museum, can only think that Gladwin succumbed to his “whimsies” and grew soft-headed in his old age. “I have always regarded Men Out of Asia,” Williams loftily declares in Fantastic Archeology, “as a sort of spoof.”
Thomas Mills lived for many years on the Hopi Indian Reservation in Northern Arizona, where he and his mother opened and operated the Cultural Center at Second Mesa. A close friend was White Bear, the traditionalist who helped Frank Waters compile The Book of the Hopi in 1963. Mills was on familiar terms with other elders, kiva chiefs and artisans. In 2001, he wrote a little book of his own called The Truth. It was an attempt to reconcile some of the conflicting answers he had received from his sources.
How did a desert-dwelling, isolated people know of the earth’s spherical shape and rotation in space? What was the long journey in boats from across the sea they spoke of? And who were the Ant People they took refuge with after the destruction of the first, second and third worlds? Eventually, Mills felt he had some answers from Egyptian religion. He came to believe that the Hopi were Egyptians, old souls in Native America, charged with the task of praying for the safety of the world. The delicate balance of affairs in human destiny depended on a Hopi prayer feather or paho.
Paho seems to be an Egyptian word (pw). Embedded in Hopi customs and rituals are apparently many traces of ancient Old World civilizations. I thought of a time several years ago when Hopi elders David Mowa and Ronald Wadsworth came to give a talk at the university where I was teaching. I noticed David preferred to sleep on the floor in our guest room instead of the pullout bed. That was quite Indian, of course, but his act of leaving a crust of bread on the piano bench when he departed was not. This practice is rooted in the ancient Greek religious gesture of offering bread and milk to the household gods in a strange home.
Author Hamilton Tyler noted several Greek customs among the Pueblo Indians. The plinth-like figure of Masaw evokes the armless guardian statues or herms used by the Greeks as boundary markers. Hermes is both god of roads and boundaries and conductor of the dead to the underworld. “A number of students of Pueblo religion,” Tyler admitted, “have remarked that it was something like Greek religion.” Yet after uncovering astonishing analogies between the two religions, he concluded that “there is no actual connection between these two gods who lived centuries apart and on different sides of the globe.”