Chief Dan George: Canadian Indigenous Pioneer and Icon

Chief Dan George stands as one of Canada’s most respected Indigenous pioneers, leaving an enduring legacy across film, television, literature, and social justice. Born in 1899 on the Tsleil-Waututh Nation reserve in British Columbia, his path to stardom was anything but conventional. Remarkably, he began his acting career at 60 and, in just 22 years, transformed the representation of Indigenous people in mainstream media while becoming a powerful voice for cultural pride and historical truth.

His unforgettable performances in acclaimed films such as Little Big Man from 1970 and The Outlaw Josey Wales from 1976 established him as a formidable talent in Hollywood. These roles led to history being made when he became the first Indigenous North American actor to receive an Academy Award nomination. His presence on screen brought depth, dignity, and authenticity to Indigenous characters at a time when such representation was rare.

Canadian audiences also remember him fondly from beloved television series like The Beachcombers and The Littlest Hobo, while his guest roles on shows such as Bonanza, Kung Fu, and The Incredible Hulk expanded his reach across North America. Beyond acting, Chief Dan George was a gifted poet and compelling orator whose words carried truth, wisdom, and emotional resonance.

His iconic “Lament For Confederation” speech delivered during Canada’s 1967 Centennial celebration remains a landmark moment in Indigenous advocacy. In it, he courageously confronted the injustices and systemic oppression faced by Indigenous peoples, awakening many Canadians to a reality long ignored. The speech continues to be studied and shared as a defining piece of Indigenous literature and political expression.

How long have I known you, Oh Canada? A hundred years? Yes, a hundred years. And many, many seelanum more. And today, when you celebrate your hundred years, Oh Canada, I am sad for all the Indian people throughout the land.

For I have known you when your forests were mine; when they gave me my meat and my clothing. I have known you in your streams and rivers where your fish flashed and danced in the sun, where the waters said ‘come, come and eat of my abundance.’ I have known you in the freedom of the winds. And my spirit, like the winds, once roamed your good lands.

But in the long hundred years since the white man came, I have seen my freedom disappear like the salmon going mysteriously out to sea. The white man’s strange customs, which I could not understand, pressed down upon me until I could no longer breathe.

When I fought to protect my land and my home, I was called a savage. When I neither understood nor welcomed his way of life, I was called lazy. When I tried to rule my people, I was stripped of my authority.

My nation was ignored in your history textbooks — they were little more important in the history of Canada than the buffalo that ranged the plains. I was ridiculed in your plays and motion pictures, and when I drank your fire-water, I got drunk — very, very drunk. And I forgot.

Oh Canada, how can I celebrate with you this centenary, this hundred years? Shall I thank you for the reserves that are left to me of my beautiful forests? For the canned fish of my rivers? For the loss of my pride and authority, even among my own people? For the lack of my will to fight back? No! I must forget what’s past and gone.

Oh God in heaven! Give me back the courage of the olden chiefs. Let me wrestle with my surroundings. Let me again, as in the days of old, dominate my environment. Let me humbly accept this new culture and through it rise up and go on.

Oh God! Like the thunderbird of old I shall rise again out of the sea; I shall grab the instruments of the white man’s success — his education, his skills, and with these new tools I shall build my race into the proudest segment of your society. Before I follow the great chiefs who have gone before us, Oh Canada, I shall see these things come to pass.

I shall see our young braves and our chiefs sitting in the houses of law and government, ruling and being ruled by the knowledge and freedoms of our great land. So shall we shatter the barriers of our isolation. So shall the next hundred years be the greatest in the proud history of our tribes and nations.

Chief Dan George passed away at 82, but his impact continues to inspire generations. His life story is a testament to resilience, late-life reinvention, and the power of storytelling to educate and heal. Today, he remains a symbol of Indigenous strength and a cornerstone of Canadian cultural history.