I come to this story with a unique perspective. I’m a fourth-generation Montanan. I’m also a scholar of U.S. Western literary and cultural studies and left the state in my 20s to pursue a career in academia.
Then, during the pandemic, I returned to Montana for a time to lead a statewide cultural organization that connects Montana’s history and literature to its modern-day residents.
That’s why, for me, the story of the show’s protagonist, John Dutton III, who heads a wealthy-but-embattled Montana ranching family, is not just a cultural phenomenon. Rather, “Yellowstone” offers insights into the dynamics that are currently influencing a changing Montana.
Montana’s little-known legacy
One of the series’ prequels, “1883,” provides the crucial backstory for the Dutton family’s journey to Montana.
James Dutton, portrayed by Tim McGraw, was a former Confederate captain; his wife, Maggie, was a nurse for the Confederate Army. In leaving behind their war-torn lives to seek new opportunities, they mirror the historical trend that saw Confederate settlers moving West during and after the Civil War.
According to Montana historian and scholar Ken Robison, Confederate prisoners of war languishing in Union prisons were paroled to western territories like Montana. By 1864, two such parolees had discovered gold in what is still called Confederate Gulch, at the time one of the largest settlements in Montana Territory. Other settlements, such as Dixie Town and Jeff Davis Gulch, dotted the landscape. Montana’s territorial capital was briefly called Varina, named after the Confederate president’s wife.
Although there is no way to know for certain, it’s possible that during the latter half of the war, half of Montana Territory’s residents – maybe 30,000 – were pro-secession. Some had been in Confederate service; the rest shared their sentiments.
After the war, many of those Confederates stayed. By the late 1800s, Montana was home to 13 United Confederate Veterans organizations totaling 176 members. In 1916, the Montana Chapter of the Daughters of the Confederacy erected a Confederate memorial in Helena, the state capital; it stood for a century. The 1920s saw the rise of about 40 Ku Klux Klan chapters across the state to promote xenophobic policies against immigrants and racist policies against nonwhites. Today, Montana remains one of the whitest states in the U.S. – about 85% of Montanans are white; less than 1% are Black.
Recasting the ‘Lost Cause’
Numerous historical echoes surface briefly in “Yellowstone.”
In Season 2, there’s a violent confrontation involving a militia group that displays Confederate and “Don’t Tread on Me” flags. This subplot speaks to Montana’s long history as a hub for populist and anti-government movements. The Southern Poverty Law Center reports that Montana has 17 hate and anti-government groups, which include three defined as white supremacist or neo-Nazi.
This depiction of militia groups in “Yellowstone” represents the broader history of populist resistance in the American West. From the Sagebrush Rebellion of the 1970s to the Montana Freemen’s standoff with federal agents in the 1990s, Westerners have often resisted federal control over land and resources – tensions that perhaps trace back to the Confederacy’s own secession, a resistance rooted in defiance of federal authority, particularly over slavery.
After the Confederacy’s defeat, the “Lost Cause” narrative, in an attempt to preserve Southern pride, recast the South’s secession as a fight for states’ rights, and not a defense of slavery.
Those Lost Cause connections reverberate through John Dutton III’s relentless battle to preserve his family’s ranch. Fighting overwhelming political and economic pressures, Dutton remains steadfast in his determination to hold onto the land, even when it goes against his best interests.
This tenacity reflects the Lost Cause mindset – a clinging to a nostalgia-tinged, yet unattainable, past. Dutton embodies the archetype of the “aggrieved white man,” a figure central to many populist movements, who feels displaced from his former position of power in politics, work and family life.
Populist contradictions
It’s hard to discern to what degree recent changes in Montana can be attributed to “Yellowstone.” What is certain: Today’s longtime Montana residents find themselves exposed to a fresh set of political, economic and cultural forces.
Tourism and the local economy are up, due in part to the “Yellowstone” effect. But so are concerns about the rising costs of most everything, particularly houses.
These trends have been spurred, in part, by outsiders moving to Montana – newcomers who romanticize the state’s hardscrabble past and what they perceive as its current rough-hewn lifestyle.
What’s more, Montana has morphed from a purple state known for its political independence into a reliably conservative stronghold.
The drastic shift from purple to red solidified in 2020 with the election of a Republican governor after 16 years of Democratic leadership. It was further underscored by the defeat of Democratic Senator Jon Tester by Republican Tim Sheehy in the 2024 election.
In “Yellowstone,” as Dutton is sworn in as Montana’s new Republican governor, he tells his constituents that he is “the opposite of progress” in response to changes that outside influences are bringing to the state.
Yet the politics of “Yellowstone” are “hard to pin down,” and the Duttons themselves espouse various versions of left- and right-wing populism as they simultaneously battle and embody the political and economic elite.
By the same token, Montanans resent wealthy outsiders but have given them political power by voting them into office.
Montana’s current governor, Greg Gianforte, is a tech millionaire, originally from Pennsylvania; Sheehy, similarly, is a wealthy out-of-stater.
Neither one might approve of the fictional Gov. Dutton’s proposed policy of doubling property and sales taxes for out-of-state “transplants” – though many Montanans probably would. For some, the rapid changes of the past few years have been, like life for the Dutton family, a challenge.
Randi Lynn Tanglen, Professor of English and Vice Provost for Faculty Affairs, University of North Dakota
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.