Current bestseller lists are packed with titles capitalizing on the public's eagerness to find out what goes on behind the scenes in U.S. government. But the most revealing political book I've read recently is a work of historical fiction set in the latter part of the 18th century. Warrior Woman: The Exceptional Life Story of Nonhelema, Shawnee Indian Woman Chief (Random House, 2003), serves as an antidote to one-sided stories marketed as American history by cable news outlets as well as book publishers.

Warrior Woman is a collaborative effort by Owen County residents James Alexander Thom and Dark Rain Thom. Jim Thom's historical novels are renowned for their attention to detail and historical accuracy. Combined with his wife's detailed knowledge of Shawnee culture and customs, this book is a gripping tale masterfully rendered by gifted storytellers.

This story's Warrior Woman is a real Shawnee chief who was "taller and stronger than most men." Nonhelema, whose name means "not a man," was born in Maryland, grew up among the "whites" (her grandfather knew and respected William Penn), and moved west with her people as European settlers crowded them out of their traditional homelands. She spoke and wrote in English and French, and prospered as a result of her service as translator and guide for various expeditions down the Ohio River in the years before the American colonies united into a nation.

She converted to Christianity and endeavored to act as a peacemaker when the onslaught of colonists threatened to overwhelm her people. But she was also a fierce warrior who fought when she had to.

The book opens with a powerful scene at a Shawnee Women's Council. The women are gathered to hear Chief Pucsinwah, father of Tecumseh, make the case for a pre-emptive strike on an "army of the Long Knives" who threaten the Southwind People (the name the Shawnees call themselves.) Pucsinwah must convince the Women's Council of the need for military action because without their approval, the men cannot wage war.

Nonhelema pleads eloquently for a peaceful approach, but the Women's Council voices support for battle. The Shawnee Queen takes her place alongside other warriors in an ultimately futile attempt to evict the invaders at what is now known as the Point Pleasant Battle Ground.

However, Nonhelema's fierce battlefield persona inspires a cowardly young recruit to tap into a reservoir of courage he didn't know he had, which alters the course of his life. The Thoms deftly weave this fictional character into the historical narrative, linking episodes of the Warrior Queen's personal growth with the young man's maturation.

As a representative of her people, fluent in English and familiar with the white man's customs, Nonhelema is present at various "negotiations" -- a misnomer because historical records clearly show that whites set the terms and the natives had no choice but to concede or die. The diplomatic skills of George Rogers Clark, for example, are evident in a potent scene, based on historical records, in which the famous military leader impudently stomps on a handmade wampum belt offered as a good-faith token of peace.

The trajectory of Nonhelema's life intersects the growing presence of whites as they pour over the Allegheny Mountains and move upland from the South. She holds fast to her Christian belief that peacemakers are blessed, but her heart is broken again and again as her people are betrayed and murdered by the relentless colonists, militiamen and traders.

One particularly grim episode revolves around the Gnaddenhutten massacre, in which nearly a hundred so-called Praying Indians (converts to Christianity) are slaughtered. Nonhelema's mother and sister are among the casualties. Like all of the female captives, they were raped before being murdered.

Nonhelema's brother Cornstalk negotiates peace terms with the whites and holds up his end of the bargain, but is murdered by a mob of militiamen at Fort Randolph. Nonhelema barely escapes death. Although she endeavors to have the members of the mob turned over to the Shawnees for justice, they are brought up on charges in military court instead, and freed.

Despite all this, Nonhelema later offers her horses and a substantial herd of cattle to the starving residents of Fort Randolph as a gesture of goodwill. Despite many petitions to the government, she is never compensated for her donations.

These failures lead Nonhelema's people to suspect that her Christianity and her liaisons with white traders (she bore two children with two different men) have corrupted her, and so they ostracize her.

Clashes between cultures are depicted on a variety of levels: hunter-gatherer nomads vs. greedy invaders; inclusive, respectful leadership vs. arrogant, unrepresentative democracy; and an animistic spirituality of abundance and respect vs. a theology of dominion.

The political ramifications of these tensions can been seen and felt today. Intellectual and personal property rights still trump human rights and the stewardship of the commons. Duplicitous legislators benefit from the public's trust that they will act in the interests of the "greater good" but sell out to narrow economic interests. Organized religion acts as social control mechanism divorced from spirituality.

Western culture continues to embody alienation from the natural world as a toxic flood of chemicals pours into the air, land and water. But ten generations ago the region surrounding the watersheds between the Great Lakes and the Ohio Valley was a virtual paradise -- a temperate rainforest hosting a diverse abundance of flora and fauna and inhabited by humans who respected the land and drew strength from it.

Many cultures have to look back hundreds or thousands of years for stories of a wholesome people living in a fruitful world of peace. Warrior Woman reminds us why we call this region the Heartland. While the book offers no prescription for avoiding Nonhelema's mistakes, at its heart lies an urgent call to build a culture of peace and prosperity in our world and in our time.

Thomas P. Healy is an Indianapolis-based journalist and publisher of Branches magazine.