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ONEIDA, N.
Y. They are spaced about a half-acre apart, a score of rundown trailers left over from the 1977 Johnstown, Pa., flood. They were used as emergency housing then, still used today as homes for about two dozen Oneida Indian Nation members.
About three miles away stands an Indian monument to American capitalism a gleaming casino.
The two images could not be more different. Yet both are accurate pictures of what the Oneida Nation has come to represent here in central New York a vivid reminder of where they came from and where they believe they’re going.
In the last three years, there has been a remarkable juxtaposition in circumstances for the Oneidas, who have seen their fortunes and their political standing soar with the July 1993 opening of their Turning Stone Casino in Verona, the state’s only casino.
Roads have been paved; new houses have been constructed. A day care center has been opened; a gymnasium has been built. Undeniably, progress is being made on Oneida lands, due in large part to gaming revenue.
But with the progress has come a significant price: The Oneidas have become a nation divided.
With its emergence as a leading candidate to bring an Indian casino to Sullivan County, 90 miles from New York City, the nation faces mounting pressure to resolve the disorder within its house.
At the center of the controversy lies Oneida Nation Representative Ray Halbritter, a Harvard-trained lawyer who has turned the poverty-stricken tribe into a diversified conglomerate. He has used Indian sovereignty to gain a competitive advantage in selling cigarets and gasoline and playing bingo for bucks. But by far, the Oneidas have reaped their richest rewards through their casino, about 30 miles east of Syracuse.
In many ways, Turning Stone is like any casino in Atlantic City, Las Vegas or Ledyard, Conn. The major difference is the absence of slot machines; they are illegal in New York.
Instead, the casino features virtual slotless machines, a computer-generated game that functions similarly to the one-armed bandits. Another difference is more surprising no liquor is served. Oneida leaders thought alcohol had done enough damage to Indians over the years.
The millions in casino profits, however, have created a serious rift in the nation each side accusing the other of being corrupted.
“Everything that has gone on here has been driven by greed, power and control,” said Brian Patterson, a tribal men’s council member and a Halbritter supporter.
“It’s all Indian politics, which can get very complicated,” said Patterson, who represents the Bear Clan, one of the three governing Oneida clans.
Some Oneidas believe the nation should never have resorted to gaming. But what has driven the deepest wedge in the nation has been the accusation that Oneida leaders have hoarded most of the profits themselves.
Oneida leaders dismiss the accusations, and point to numerous enterprises, public projects and service-oriented programs that have been funded by gaming profits.
They also reacquired 2,000 acres of Oneida land that was taken from the nation by federal and state governments and private land companies. This, they say, is proof that the leadership is planning not just for today, but for seven generations down the road an important Oneida tradition.
“That’s got to be the biggest crock they’ve got going,” said Raymond Obomsawin, a former executive director with the nation who was fired and virtually kicked out of the tribe last year.
“Seven generations is a sacred concept,” he said. “The reality is, you have to focus on life today to make life effective in the future. All that seven generation stuff is an excuse for doing nothing.
”
Obomsawin is one of about 20 Oneidas who have “lost their voice” the Oneidan equivalent of stripping away nation citizenship and benefits. He claims he lost his voice because he dared to question Halbritter.
Among Halbritter’s critics, his alleged thirst for control and unyielding vindictiveness against his opponents are the most common accusations. They say he has made too many unilateral decisions, most of them profit-driven.
Because the nation is sovereign, it does not release financial information about any of its enterprises or its contracts. But former Oneida leaders say Halbritter pockets anywhere from 1% to 2% of each enterprise’s profits a contention that Oneida Nation officials do not dispute.
His critics also say that Halbritter acts too much like a corporate tycoon, and not enough like a leader of an Indian nation.
Yet there is no questioning some of the nation’s accomplishments under Halbritter, who did not respond to requests for interviews.
A new day care center was recently built for Oneida children; an agricultural center was formed, and fields of white corn were harvested this year; new homes were built for the elderly and for low-income families, and a language center was created to teach the Oneida language to the young and old.
Money also was poured into Oneida Textile Printing, the tribe’s first business venture outside gambling, tobacco and gasoline, and the new recreational vehicle park, across the street from the casino.
Where the money has not gone is into the pockets of all Oneida members. Halbritter has said that he does not want to create a “welfare system,” and wants to encourage his people to help themselves.
“Some people here want us to do the same as the Pequots, where they handed out all this money to their members,” said Clint Hill, a men’s council leader from the Turtle Clan. The Pequots run the hugely successful Foxwoods casino in Ledyard, Conn.
“I don’t believe in that,” he said. “Just to give handouts is not useful to the people. They’ll abuse it.
”
Nearly every major decision made by the Oneidas is tinged with influences from the nation’s past, a heritage that the Oneidas take great pains to preserve.
Outside one of the trailers last week, two men worked in silent concert, slicing deer meat off a carcass, a father and son engaged in a tradition that began on these ancestral lands centuries ago.
When their work was done, the father, Gil Stout Sr., placed the deer meat in the freezer, and cleaned the blood off his hands. He would soon begin his job as a casino parking attendant, a seamless merging of the old and new.
Copyright © 2024 New York Daily News

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