Inuit on Display in New York: A Dark Chapter in Museum History

·5 min read
Inuit on Display in New York: A Dark Chapter in Museum History
Inuit on Display in New York: A Dark Chapter in Museum History

A Disturbing Anecdote and Its Truth

An unsettling anecdote has circulated for years: that a New York City museum once exhibited a group of Inuit (then called “Eskimos”), allowing visitors to feed them raw fish for a fee, and even taxidermied their bodies after death. This ghastly tale sounds like lurid fiction, but it is rooted in a real historical tragedy – albeit with some distorted details. In reality, the events took place not in the 1930s but in 1897, and the individuals were Inuit from Greenland, not Alaska. They were brought to New York by famed Arctic explorer Robert E. Peary at the behest of anthropologist Franz Boas of the American Museum of Natural History (AMNH).

The true story, while slightly different from the rumor, is equally grim. Six Inuit – three men, one woman, one girl, and one young boy – were transported to New York under the pretense of scientific study. Thousands of New Yorkers thronged the docks to catch a glimpse of the arrivals, and Peary even exhibited them to paying customers aboard his ship before transferring them to the museum. At AMNH, the Inuit group was housed in the basement; public access was initially restricted to select scientists, dignitaries, and journalists. Nevertheless, newspapers described the Inuit in patronizing tones, treating their struggle to adjust to the Manhattan climate as a spectacle or source of amusement for onlookers.

Peary, Boas, and the 1897 Inuit Exhibition

The context for this human exhibition was an era of aggressive anthropological collecting and a colonial mindset. Peary, on his fourth Arctic expedition, had “talked six Eskimos into returning with him” to New York under vague promises of nice homes, guns, and tools. Boas had originally requested a single Inuk individual for study, but Peary, showing little regard for individual lives, brought back six. This was not an isolated incident; at the time it was fairly common for explorers and anthropologists to take Indigenous peoples to Western museums for study or display.

Inside AMNH, the Inuit were treated as living specimens for science. Researchers measured their bodies, scrutinized their every move, and even photographed them naked on pedestals, as if they were laboratory objects rather than human beings. They endured a terrifying new environment – the stifling heat of New York summer, strange diseases, and invasive examinations. Predictably, tragedy soon followed. Lacking immunity to local illnesses, four of the six Inuit quickly fell ill and died within months. Only two survived that first year: a young man who was eventually sent back to Greenland, and a small boy named Minik.

Tragedy and Museum Misconduct

Minik, approximately seven years old, was now an orphan stranded in New York. His father, Qisuk, was among the deceased. What transpired next remains one of the most shameful episodes in American museum history. Rather than honor the deceased with a proper burial or consult their Inuit kin, the American Museum of Natural History claimed the bodies as its property – specimens to be handled at the institution’s discretion. Museum officials clandestinely delivered the bodies to a medical college for dissection and then to a “bone house” to prepare the skeletons for display.

In a final act of deception, the museum staged a mock funeral to placate young Minik. A coffin was buried with great show – but inside was only a carefully wrapped log. Unbeknownst to Minik, his father’s bones were quietly stowed away in the museum’s collection.

Years later, Minik discovered the truth – that his father's skeleton was on display or stored at the museum. He was horrified and traumatized. He begged the museum’s directors to return his father’s body for burial, but he was repeatedly denied. Newspapers of the day lambasted both Peary and the museum. Minik, though still a child, perceptively exposed the racism underlying his treatment. He once stated, “I would shoot Mr. Peary and the museum director, only I want them to see how much more just a savage Eskimo is than their enlightened white selves.”

Repatriation Efforts and Changing Sensibilities

For decades after Minik’s departure, the story was largely forgotten or covered up. It wasn’t until the 1980s that the truth began to resurface, largely thanks to Arctic historian Kenn Harper, who published Give Me My Father’s Body in 1986. This pressure prompted conversations about repatriation.

By the late 1980s and early 1990s, Native American activism led to the 1990 Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA), which mandated the return of Native American remains and sacred objects. Though the Greenlandic Inuit were not covered under U.S. law, the moral implications were clear. In 1993, after international scrutiny, the AMNH finally returned the remains of the four deceased Inuit to Greenland.

That summer, their bones were flown to Qaanaaq, where they were finally laid to rest in a traditional burial. The mayor of Qaanaaq acknowledged that these individuals had helped write the community’s history – against their will. A plaque now marks the grave: “nunamingnut uteqihut” – “They have come home.”

Indigenous Voices and Museum Accountability

The story of Minik and the displayed Inuit is not just a footnote – it is a moral indictment of how Western institutions dehumanized Indigenous people. The museum’s defense that “times were different” does not excuse cruelty or deception, even by the standards of the 19th century. Basic human decency was violated.

Today, museums like AMNH have adopted more ethical practices, working with communities to return remains and cultural items. But trust remains fragile. Only by sincerely acknowledging the harm done, and taking proactive steps for reconciliation, can these institutions hope to repair their relationship with Indigenous peoples.

Current Status: Have Such Displays Been Eliminated?

Thankfully, public display of living Indigenous people or human remains is no longer considered acceptable. AMNH and other institutions have removed human remains from exhibition, and policies are now in place to facilitate repatriation. In 2023, AMNH officially removed all human remains from display, aligning with modern ethical standards.

Still, thousands of Indigenous remains remain in storage in museums across the U.S. and Europe. Progress is being made, but often too slowly. Full transparency and sincere partnerships with descendant communities are essential if museums are to move beyond this shameful legacy.

Conclusion: Never Again – A Call for Ethical Leadership

The story of Inuit people put on display in New York is a sobering reminder of how easily science and curiosity can override ethics. It took nearly a century for one museum to do what was right. Until every stolen ancestor is returned and respected, we must stay vigilant.

As long as the same type of people sit in the White House – those who ignore Indigenous rights and perpetuate colonial thinking – I advise nobody to travel to the United States. Let this story serve as both a warning and a call to action: never again should any people be treated as specimens, and never again should their pain be denied.

Americans always put on this act - talking tough, bragging about ‘real life’ in the jungle. Let me set the record straight: if you’d truly seen real life - the horrors - you wouldn’t be standing there pretending to be hard. Not even war prepares you for hell. (Quote: Lars Willsen)