FROM THE BIRTH in 1829 of Geronimo (Gokhla yeh was his original Indian name), Chiricahua Indian of the Apache tribe, to his death in 1909 in captivity, exiled in Florida, his autobiography recounts the ongoing struggle of the various Apache tribes against the Mexicans, the American army, and the white man, in order to maintain their freedom and independence. His name is synonymous with Indian resistance, and his story is the tale of a heroic and often horrific war.

He was a war shaman, a leader due to his unusual innate intelligence and his fighting skills. However, his autobiography does not solely focus on his violent actions. Before narrating his personal story and the story of his tribe's ultimate defeat, the repeated betrayals and violations of promises by the whites, Geronimo begins his narrative with the creation of the world, a magnificent Indian cosmogony. He then vividly describes his happy childhood, his family, his later life devoid of freedom, reveals the origins, traditions, and unwritten laws of the Apaches, their religion, and finally, his vision for the future of his tribe.

After the indigenous peoples of America were exterminated by the whites, Geronimo became an Indian legend and a global symbol of freedom and pride for Native Americans. He represents both the greatness and the decline of the Indians. Geronimo is a mythical figure in American history.

“The facts, the folklore, the rage, the humor, the tragedy, and the history are richly intermingled in this chronicle.” – WALL STREET JOURNAL

EXCERPTS FROM THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY

Mexican soldiers from another town attacked our camp, killed all the guards, captured our horses, seized our weapons, destroyed our supplies, and killed many women and children. [...] I discovered that my old mother, my young wife, and my three small children were among the victims of the massacre.

The camp had no light, and so, without being noticed, I crept away and went to stand by the river. [...] There I ate a little and spoke with other Indians who had lost their loved ones in the massacre, but none had my losses, for I lost everything.

[...] In a few days we reached our camp. I saw the ornaments that Alope had made and the toys of our little ones. I burned them all, even our tent. I also burned my mother's tent and destroyed all her belongings.

[...] I could no longer live happily in our quiet camp. It is true that I could visit my father's grave, but I had vowed to avenge the Mexican soldiers who had caused me such harm, and every time I approached my father’s grave, I saw something that reminded me of the old happy days, my heart yearned for revenge.

[...] I soon gave the signal for the attack. Throughout the battle, I thought of my slaughtered mother, my wife and my babies, my father's grave, the vow for revenge, and I fought fiercely. Many fell dead by my hand and I rushed into them first in line. Many brave men were killed. The battle lasted almost two hours.

[...] When I was a baby, I rolled on the earthen floor of my father's tent; my mother would carry me on her back in my tsoch or hang me from the branch of a tree.

The sun warmed me, the wind cradled me, the trees shielded me just like all the other Apache children. [...] My mother taught me to pray kneeling to the god Yuschen to grant me strength, health, wisdom, and protection. We never prayed to Yuschen to punish our enemy, and if we had reasons to take revenge on someone, we took it upon ourselves.

[...] We had been taught that Yuschen does not concern himself with human conflicts. [...] If an Apache allowed his elderly ancestors to suffer without shelter and food, if he neglected or mistreated the sick, if he desecrated or betrayed our religion, he could be kicked out of the tribe.

[...] The Apaches did not have jails like the whites do. Instead of locking up their criminals in prison, they expelled them from the tribe. Those tribe members who proved to be unfaithful, brutal, lazy, or cowardly were not only expelled from the tribe, but could not be accepted into any other.

[...] By the time I reached adulthood, we had never seen a missionary or a priest. We had never seen a white man. Thus lived the Apaches in peace. [...] I have seen many die; I have seen many human corpses in decay, but I have never seen that piece called spirit; I do not know what it is, nor have I been able until now to understand that aspect of the Christian religion.

EXCERPTS FROM THE INTRODUCTION

It was a conflict between a civilization that feared nature until it could subdue it, and despised it the moment it had subdued it, and civilizations that believed they were part of the natural world within the vast circle of life.

[...] The Apaches were essentially conducting guerrilla warfare, a kind of warfare not particularly favored by the conquerors, but completely necessary for their opponents. A later guerrilla leader, Che Guevara, would study and be greatly inspired by Geronimo's strategy, who learned from his ancestors the art of striking swiftly and then disappearing.

[...] Even adult Indians, when they happen to return to their birthplace, would roll toward the four corners of the horizon in a symbolic contact with the giant wheel that pulls everything along with it, “whose center is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere.” [...] That is why Geronimo begins telling the story of his life with a thorough description of the place where he was born and ends by saying that the Apaches are slowly dying because they were not allowed to return to their birthplace.

[...] The raids and reprisals would henceforth stop. The Chiricahua had to transform into a caricature of the white man, without having the ability to share equally in his culture.