Read the following passage carefully and answer the following questions
In May 1830, the United States Congress passed ‘an Act to provide for an exchange of lands with the Indians’, authorising the US federal government to uproot and transport 80,000 people from their homes east of the Mississippi. The 80,000 victims of this state-sponsored forced relocation make up only a fraction of the hundreds of thousands of Indigenous Americans dispossessed since Europeans arrived in the Americas. But they represent nearly the entire native population then remaining in the US, excluding the nation’s unorganised western territories The secretary of war Lewis Cass celebrated that it was now possible to draw a line down the continent. ‘Indians’ lived on one side, he said, ‘our citizens’ on the other.
The Nazi deportation of Jews in the 1940s and the US deportation of Native Americans in the 1830s cannot be equated. Nonetheless, though the Nazi death camps appear to be unfathomable and incomparable, state-sponsored forced migrations share a genealogy. The Final Solution ultimately took on a horrific and gory form all of its own, yet the steps leading up to it covered familiar ground. State administrators widely believed that it was good policy to move problem peoples, whom they deemed backward or incapable of modernising, to remote colonies. That is why Franklin Roosevelt’s advisor on refugee policy, Isaiah Bowman, declared that the resettlement of Jews fleeing Nazi Germany ought to be understood as ‘a broad scientific undertaking, humanitarian in purpose’. Pioneering, as Bowman called it, would resolve territorial conflict to everyone’s benefit. It is also why Wilson Lumpkin, one of the lead architects of the US plan to deport native peoples in the 1830s, asserted that the ‘Indians can never be happy and prosperous’ in their homelands. Only if they were moved elsewhere would ‘a happy destiny’ await them.
Though these deportations occurred far from the US population centre along the East Coast, the nation’s major cities were nonetheless deeply connected to them. The opportunities for profit attracted capital from New York, Boston and even overseas from London, creating a financial network linking dispossessed Indigenous Americans with middle-class investors on both sides of the Atlantic. They underwrote state bonds to capitalise banks and finance the razing of indigenous farms. ‘Indian titles to extensive tracts of land’, boasted one bond prospectus, had recently been extinguished in Alabama; the potential profits were enormous.
From the cheery perspective of secretary of war James Barbour and many other Americans, the US undertaking to eliminate native peoples east of the Mississippi River was truly ‘modern’. In his view, it was founded in ‘justice and moderation’. ‘To spare the weak,’ he boasted, ‘is its brightest ornament.’ From the outset, the policy appealed to a small group of naive philanthropists, self-described realists who accepted as fact the oppressive conditions in which native peoples lived, and they therefore promoted deportation as a humanitarian solution. However, when native peoples didn’t agree to disappear, altruism gave way to a twisted logic. Deportation, explained Lumpkin, the governor of Georgia, was the only way to rescue native peoples from ‘speedy extermination’. If they resisted, armed troops might have to expel them at gunpoint. If military action led to bloodshed, it would be the fault of those who chose not to move in the first place.