ARTICLES:
Michael (Mickey) Posluns,
“An Introduction to the Metaphysics of Indian Hating and
Its Role in the Formation of Public Policy.”
Rarihokwats and Michael Posluns,
“Esquega v. Canada (Attorney General): Chiefs and Councilors
No Longer have to Live on Reserve.”
Mark Gibson, “Citizen
Participation and Development: A History and Tentative Results
of Guatemala’s Development Council System.”
Stephen M. Sachs, “Climate
Change, Related Environmental Degradation and Indigenous People.”
AN INTRODUCTION TO THE METAPHYSICS OF INDIAN HATING AND ITS
ROLE IN PUBLIC POLICY FORMATION
Michael (Mickey) Posluns,
Ph.D.
I first came across the term “the
metaphysics of Indian hating” as part of the subtitle of Richard
Drinnon’s 1982 book, Facing West: The Metaphysics of Indian
Hating and Empire Building1. Drinnon had taken
the expression from a chapter title Herman Melville’s 1857 novel,
The Confidence Man2.
Drinnon’s book greatly influenced
the course of my doctoral dissertation on the discourse on the
testimony of First Nations’ leaders before Canadian parliamentary
committees and the response of parliamentarians during the 1970s.
What I found helpful about Facing West was only partly
Drinnon’s examination of the discourse about Native Americans
amongst Euro-American settlers from the earliest settlements to
the most recent colonial wars, but his interest in the underlying
attitude, the world view or metaphysic belied by the words and
conduct of successive generations of American leaders.
(One example of current events where
the metaphysic of Indian hating is evident is the frequent occurrence
of the term “Indian country” in cockpit recordings from U.S. fighter
aircraft played on television news and public affairs programs.3
The people and places about to be strafed or bombed by American
forces continue, to this day, to be referred to as “Indian Country”
so that the term does not so much describe a territory in the
South Western part of the United States, as it refers to whatever
territory the U.S. Cavalry and its successors pillage.
Canadians enjoy a myth that holds
that their history, and particularly the history of their Indian
policy has been both less violent and more benign than their American
counterparts. My own observations of federal policy makers and
the mass media, that now extends over several decades, runs in
quite the opposite direction. Apart from having had relatively
few “Indian Wars” in the middle quarters of the 19th
century, I do not think that Canada has had a remarkably less
violent history; and, in regard to the actions of the U.S. Cavalry,
Canadian settlement on the prairies benefited almost as much as
its American counterpart.
Although it is true that the history
of Canada in the 19th century is not characterized
by frequent “Indian wars” this view of Canadian history is largely
colored by wishful thinking and selective perception. Three brief
examples to the contrary are (1) the long list of civil disabilities
imposed on First Nations communities and Indian persons from 1882
to 1951, beginning with the general thrust of the Canadian Indian
administration and its attempt to dissolve or destroy traditional
First Nations personalities, (2) the general contempt of successive
parliaments and governments for the solemn promises and obligations
made to various First Nations by the Crown in right of Canada
in treaties; and, (3) the capacity of federally sponsored, church
run “residential schools”4 to achieve a mortality rate
touching on 50%, and exposed in magazine articles by the Dr. P.H.
Bryce, the Chief Medical Officer of the Indian Affairs Dept.,
and, a few year later, S.H. Blake, Q.C., a distinguished lawyer
engaged in negotiating contracts between the government and the
churches as early as 1907 more clearly set the moral tone of the
settler population in the northern half of the continent.5
Dr. Bryce described the schools as
“having a higher mortality rate than most wars.” Mr. Blake, when
he was assisting in negotiations for the 1911 [residential school]
contracts, offered the opinion that because the department had
done nothing over the decades “to obviate the preventable causes
of death, [it] brings itself within unpleasant nearness to the
charge of manslaughter.” Yet these schools carried on into the
1970s.
These “schools” were neither the last
nor the only horror of epic proportions in the history of Canadian
Indian policy. I cite them here simply because they are emblematic
of both the history of Indian policy and of the political attitude
of government officials, politicians and influential citizens
which I wish to examine under the rubric “the metaphysics of Indian
hating.”6
The number of incidents in recent
years that are suggestion of a metaphysic of Indian hating are
so numerous that it is hard to select candidate events for a short
list. Nonetheless, I offer the following list of illustrative
examples:
·
The
non-fulfillment of the James Bay and Northern Quebec Agreement(JBNQA)
including the epidemic that followed from the failure to develop
proper sanitation at new village sites, the withholding of funds
promised in this modern treaty as a pressure to induce Cree communities
to support hydroelectric projects, the denial by Quebec authorities
of the existence of species of animals, e.g., freshwater seals,
on which some Cree families depended for their livelihood; and
the denial by the Federal Administration of the JBNQA that
there was a binding obligation on his office to require an environmental
assessment prior to further projects.
·
Following
the introduction by the Supreme Court of Canada of a rational
set of tests and standards regarding the recognition of Aboriginal
rights (including Aboriginal title) and treaty rights, the steadfast
refusal of Canada and several provinces to follow those standards,
and, more particularly, to conduct genuine consultations with
First Nations, including a full disclosure of information at the
disposal of the appropriate government agencies, and more generally
a disinterest in maintaining “the honor of the Crown” which the
Court had said was at stake in all the dealings of both federal
and provincial governments with First Nations.
Each instance in which a claim to
an Aboriginal title has been ignored by the federal or provincial
governments has constituted a defiance of the Constitution and
the law as they have been interpreted by the Supreme Court which,
in turn, has forced a succession of First Nations into court at
great expense both of money and of scarce human resources. Each
of these incidents represents an occasion on which the Crown (whether
in right of Canada or in right of a province) has said, in effect,
that a renewed relationship on a much healthier basis between
the Crown and First Nations is not a high priority for that particular
government.
Likewise, the steadfast refusal of
successive governments to recognize an inherent right of self-government
by First Nations within Confederation coupled with the perpetuation
of the Department of Indian Affairs and Northern Development has
maintained a colonial relationship in defiance of committee reports
from both Houses of Parliament9 and the Royal Commission
on Aboriginal Peoples.
What I mean by “a metaphysic of Indian
hating” is an attitude deeply embedded in a world view or a more
specific body of thought that disparages or denies the fundamental
humanity of an individual or a human community, large or small.
Hatred is defined as “an extreme emotion of dislike, abhorrence
or aversion; detestation, abhorrence, hatred.”9
Unfortunately, contrary to the OED
the term is not now mainly poetic. In addition to being commonplace
in the discourse of persons in their early teens, hatred has played
and continues to play an important role in political discourse.
The most stunning example in Drinnon’s work (at least, to my mind)
was a response of a Captain Walsh, an infantry officer and former
Methodist missionary, when asked why he skewered Indian children
on his bayonet. “Nits make lice,” he responded.
An underlying remnant of that Nazi-like
answer runs through the history of First Nations relations both
in the United States and Canada. Hatred, as an emotional idea10,
has been, and continues to be every bit as real as patriotism,
loyalty or other forms of institutional love. Citing a territory
one is about to strafe as “Indian Country” serves as a validation
and justification of the impending action. The justification rests
on a synecdoche (or metonymy) equating an immediate (and lately
overseas) territory with an historic territory within the continental
United States in which it was not only permissible but commendable
for American soldiers to vent their spleen and wreak as much havoc
as possible.
Canada
and the Metaphysics of Indian Hating
Canadians might plead a more gentlemanly
style, but the direction and the overall effect is not different.
In 1920, Duncan Campbell Scott, the Deputy Superintendent General
(corresponding to an assistant deputy minister or an under secretary
today) told a Commons committee that his goal was to work toward
the day when there would not be a single Indian remaining on Indian
land in Canada. When Parliament established a Joint Committee
on Indian Affairs to consider policy options following the end
of WWII, Diamond Jenness, then Canada’s most distinguished pioneer
anthropologist, and an employee of federally owned museum presented
a submission to the Joint Committee echoing Scott’s views of a
quarter century earlier. Rather than honoring the Indian veterans
(who had been the largest single enrolment of any ethnic group
in the Canadian Army) by extending them the franchise or allowing
them the same generous veterans charter that was given to all
other veterans, he favored a program of cultural assimilation
and termination of the Indian reserve land base. This perspective
was echoed by the then Prime Minister, William Lyon Mackenzie
King Twenty years later the King view was echoed once again by
Prime Minister Pierre Elliot Trudeau. George Manuel, then the
president of the National Indian Brotherhood remarked, in his
memoir, The Fourth World: An Indian Reality, that Trudeau’s
White Paper “was written by the ghost of Mackenzie King.”11
Most recently, the Reform Party (later
known as the Alliance Party and presently the Conservative Party
of Canada) opposed the Nisg’a Treaty Ratification Bill and other
bills to ratify land claims and self-government legislation on
the argument that Trudeau had it right when he proposed to abolish
the remnants of Aboriginal rights and that section 35 of the Constitution
Act, 1982, far from being regarded as a “promise,” as Chief
Justice Brian Dickson described it in his decision in Sparrow,
it ought simply to be ignored.12 Their steadfast hostility
to the recognition of Aboriginal and treaty rights is evident
in any review of the past two years when they have formed the
Canadian federal government.
The
most stellar example of the metaphysics of Indian hating by
public officials is the extent to which Indian policy has
been on the cutting edge of newspeak from its earliest
days. If George Orwell was really unfamiliar with the Indian Affairs
Branch in Canada he surely missed the greatest fulfillment of
his intuition that politicians and officials, faced with inconvenient
facts invented new language or new meanings for old language.
The hallmark of Indian Affairs newspeak began with the use of
“enfranchisement” to mean the eviction of a person from their
ancestral home and their extended family if (a) the person was
an Indian man who became self-supporting or (b) the person was
an Indian woman who was married to a man who became self-supporting
or (c) the person was an Indian woman married to a man who lacked
Indian status, whether or not he was in all other respects an
Indian. This linguistic feat has been hard to match but officials
in each succeeding generation have made an effort to maintain
an inscrutable and incomprehensible discourse in their development
of Indian policy.
Perhaps the most extreme modern day
example is the introduction of the term “inherent right of self-government”
as a term now supported by federal officials and ministers, provided
that the term means neither more nor less than the meaning that
they ascribe to it. This is in contrast to the notion that ‘inherent
rights” are the rights that a First Nation community or its members
exercised before the exercise of British dominion over their lands.
In 1985, when David Crombie, then Minister of Indian Affairs,
introduced Bill C-31, a bill purportedly intended to end discrimination
against women who married men without Indian status (under the
federal Indian Act) he stated repeatedly that, once Parliament
had repealed the discriminatory provisions it had put into the,
First Nations communities would be free to assume responsibility
for establishing and administering their own membership rules.
What has, in fact, happened over the past 22 years, is that if
a band allowed a broader interpretation of membership than that
supported by the federal government, they were further impoverished
because the government allowed per capita grants based on its
view of those bands’ populations.
Newspeak
is intimately tied up with hating. If I wanted you to understand what
I was saying I would learn to write and speak in terms that you
can understand. Senior officials in Indian Affairs, and in such
central agencies as Justice and Finance, discuss Indian policy
in terms that remain largely incomprehensible to almost all who
have not been initiated into their own secret society. A few First
Nations leaders have gone to the trouble of learning the jargon
of Indian Affairs officials. When they have spoken in this tongue
in giving testimony before the Commons Indian Affairs Committee
it has quickly become evident that very few of the MPs understood
the jargon. By and large, the MPs have been more willing to indicate
that they do not understand this language when it is used by First
Nations witnesses than when it is used by departmental officials.
While it may be that bureaucrats in
all departments of almost all quasi-democratic governments commonly
speak an arcane jargon to one another, Indian Affairs distinguishes
itself amongst departments of the Canadian federal government
as being one of the few departments to provide (or be mandated
to provide) services directly to individuals and human communities.
Social services to ordinary individuals are provided by the provinces
and their municipalities.
In contrast, the Supreme Court has
written, in a lengthy string of decisions about the need for reconciliation
between the common law and First Nations law. Indeed, since the
earliest case interpreting section 35 of the Constitution Act,
1982, the Court has consistently taken the view that accommodation
and reconciliation are necessary corollaries to consultation,
as is a full disclosure of relevant information by the Crown or
government agencies to First Nations’ governments whose rights
may be affected.
I suggest that the first step toward
accommodation and reconciliation is to write and speak about
human communities as though those communities were vital parts
of one’s audience and readership.
The persistent unwillingness to conduct
First Nations relations in keeping with these goals is, I suggest
a manifestation of the metaphysics of Indian hating. Likewise,
the tendency to pretend to adopt goals presented to parliamentary
committees and the courts by First Nations, while investing the
key terms with entirely different words is a contempt of Parliament,
of the courts and of the First Nations, their local communities
and their individual members who the officials and ministers pretend
to serve.
U.S. Chief Justice John Marshall addressed
this problem some years ago in Worcester v. Georgia:
The words “treaty” and “nation” are
words of our own language, selected in our own diplomatic and
legislative proceedings, by ourselves, having each a definite
and well understood meaning. We have applied them to Indians,
as we have applied them to other nations of the earth. They are
applied to all in the same sense.
Marshall recognized the tremendous
wrong that flows from using the same terms while ascribing to
them quite different meanings. The terms at issue have changed
somewhat from his day to ours. My question is whether the ethic
of governments have changed very much? And whether the ethics
of the Canadian government is ever so much different from our
friendly neighbor to the south?
The Bridge from Officialdom to Citizenry
From the 1990 decision known as Sparrow13
first decision interpreting section 35 of the Constitution
Act, 1982, the section guaranteeing “the rights of the Aboriginal
peoples of Canada,” the Supreme Court of Canada has emphasized
that the rights it was addressing, in case after case, belonged
to particular First Nations, e.g., the Mohawk nation, or the Anishinabek,
or First Nation communities, e.g., Akwesasne or Shawanaga.
For example, in Sparrow, Chief
Justice Dickson observed that the right to fish was “always regulated,
albeit self-regulated.” The “self” in question is the Musqueam
First Nation or the Coastal Salish Nation. Mr. Sparrow participates
in the right to fish by virtue of his membership/citizenship in
those nations. Later decisions, dealing with the right to market
fish, the right to hunt moose and the claim of an Aboriginal title
in the land all maintain this same principle: Aboriginal rights,
including Aboriginal title as well as treaty rights are all rights
of the particular community.
Yet, if you follow the discourse of
parliamentarians speaking about Aboriginal matters, including
economic development through the better exploitation of the various
kinds of economic rights, you hear (or read) constant reference
to individuals to whom the parliamentarians want to provide additional
services, primarily through a department of government repeatedly
cited as the most incompetent department in the public service.14
Indian Hating Amongst the Citizenry,
i.e. the General Population
If I speak of the citizenry as “the
general population” will anyone recognize this term as one originating
in reference to that part of the prison population who are not
segregated into special units, solitary confinement or the prison’s
hospital wing? The question is significant here because I want
to speak about my readership in the same terms that I would use
in speaking to them or with them.
The first measure of Indian hating
is the dedicated and devout cultivation to ignorance found not
only in the general population but also amongst otherwise distinguished
academics and scholars.
I daresay that there may be more Canadians
able to identify the names and territories of provinces of Afghanistan
than can identify the names and territories of First Nations in
Canada.
Such information may seem very elementary,
as indeed, it should be. Yet, when we look at the Supreme Court’s
discussions of Aboriginal and treaty rights we see that this elementary
information is absolutely essential to understanding these concepts
now enshrined in the Canadian Constitution. When the Court found
that a Mrs. Van der Peet did not have a right to market her fish,
though she did have a right to catch fish to feed her family and
for ceremonial purposes, the judges were basing their decision
on the question of whether or not marketing was a pre-contact
practice of a her nation. Not to be able to place that nation
on the map is to not understand the judgment of the Court, whether
one agrees with it or not. Likewise, the Court brought the same
concept over to the question of the claim of various Metis defendants
to an Aboriginal right to hunt moose. The question the Court asked
was, “Was the defendant a member of a community that can trace
its history back to a certain date, i.e., to a time before European
domination?” In one case, Pawley the defendant could do
so. In another, Blais, the defendant could not do so.
There has been a concerted campaign
by government agencies and by some non-governmental agencies to
foster the impression that most First Nations are deeply misogynist
and that their traditional cultures abuse the women of the nation.
I have spoken with distinguished professors who have swallowed
this claim, hook, line and sinker. Yet, if I asked, “Which First
Nations are traditionally matrifocal,” they are not able to answer.
Likewise, there has been a campaign
putting out the notion that government spends far more per capita
on “Indians” than it does on other citizens. Yet, a close analysis
of funds spent per capita in First Nations communities and other
communities shows that First Nations receive about $9,000 per
capita per year while villages, towns and cities receive about
$14,000 per capita per year. The First Nations figure is also
open to further scrutiny: (1) a large proportion of the monies
voted by Parliament for First Nations is consumed by departmental
headquarters salaries and office costs; (2) every time a program
is transferred from Indian Affairs to a First Nation the amount
of money voted for the program is reduced; (3) schools run by
First Nations receive about two-thirds the amount received by
neighboring school boards for the education of Indian children.
What I mean by “cultivated ignorance”
is the capacity to swallow this anti-Indian propaganda and to
participate in the belief that First Nations leaders must be stupid,
incompetent and corrupt for accomplishing so little with so much
money.
The president of the Haldimand County
Lawyers’ Association wrote a letter to the local newspaper during
an occupation of a housing development by Mohawk people from Ohsweken
who say that the land on which the development was being built
was part of a land claim. The Lawyers’ president called for “the
rule of law.” Yet, I do not recall he or his predecessors having
called for the rule of law in any of the many instances when land,
in their area, was unlawfully taken from the Six Nations reserve.
Not do I recall he or his colleagues objecting when the R.C.M.P.
unlawfully entered the traditional Longhouse and seized the Fire
Council Wampum. The list of other occasions on which a timely
call for the rule of law would have been most valuable is too
long to be included here.
Given the quasi-democratic nature
of Canada, I am inclined to believe that the constituents of the
various politicians and senior officials whose words I have quoted
here generally viewed their statements with approval.
I daresay that few of the members
of the Haldimand Lawyers’ Association could tell you much about
the Six Nations Confederacy and its legal traditions -- I wonder
what they are doing to achieve the reconciliation of common law
and First Nations law urged upon the legal profession by the Supreme
Court?
How do political scientists remain
ignorant of the traditional constitutions of the Indigenous peoples
of Canada while pretending to have a deep attachment to the Canadian
Constitution? If the Canadian Constitution includes a promise
that the Court has construed as pointed to accommodation and reconciliation
how are those lofty goals to be achieved without a knowledge of
the diverse legal systems to be accommodated?
If geography teachers cannot name
the various First Nations, how are they to relate “the lay of
the land” to the traditional lifeways of the people who lived
in harmony with the many different kinds of land for thousands
of years? Or are elementary and secondary school teachers destined
to perpetuate the cultivation of ignorance that runs through the
history of education in Canada?
John Locke argued that civilization
began with agriculture and with literacy. From the earliest settlements
here in North America there has been a practice of pretending
that First Nations had neither agriculture nor literacy. Yet the
food that various First Nations shared with early settlers came
from their agriculture. “Wilderness” is what crept into the fields
cleared by eastern First Nations after their populations were
catastrophically reduced; it was not what the early settlers found
either in the lands now occupied by the United States or the lands
presently occupied by Canada.
Locke’s notion of a time when there
was no civil society, when each man was entirely free was, on
Locke’s part, entirely a fantasy useful as a starting point for
his philosophical argument. But his argument has been used by
generation after generation of political theorists in an attempt
to explain the dynamics of European settlement. Whether Locke
participated in the metaphysics of Indian hating in his own lifetime,
the premise that he set forth has been used to buttress that metaphysic
from his day to our own.
There are some haphazard efforts to
introduce some elements of First Nations cultures into the general
curriculum. Whether Canada is prepared to address the deficiencies
and disasters of its historical relationships with the various
First Nations, as Germany has confronted the darkest moments of
its past, or whether Canada will continue to play an Austrian
hand and claim to be an innocent bystander remains to be seen.
Michael (Mickey) Posluns, Ph.D. would
welcome readers’ comments on the notion of a metaphysics of Indian
hating.
References
5.
The
most scathing summary of the conditions in these schools occurs
in the Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples
(RCAP), in the paragraphs numbered “records 1820-1928 in the
CD-ROM edition (Ottawa: Libraxus, 1996). The remarks of Dr. P.H.
Bryce, the Chief Medical Officer appeared in Saturday Night
magazine, November 23, 1907 and are quoted in RCAP at record
1824. Dr. Bryce described the schools as “having a higher mortality
rate than most wars.” S.H. Blake, QC, a distinguished solicitor
who assisted in negotiations for the 1911 [residential school]
contracts, offered the opinion that because the department had
done nothing over the decades “to obviate the preventable causes
of death, [it] brings itself within unpleasant nearness to the
charge of manslaughter.” Much of this report may also be found
on an Indian Affairs Branch web site. See, in particular, Vol.
1, Looking Forward, Looking Back, Chapter 10, “Residential
Schools.”
6.
A
general outline of these horrors is presented in Speaking with
Authority: The Emergence of the Vocabulary of First Nations’ Self-Government,
chapter1, “The Interplay of Language, Policy and Ethics in the
Discourse of First Nations Relations,” Routledge: New York, 2006
In the book on which I am about to embark and of which this essay
is an outline, I will further address the nature of official
and citizen culpability and other questions which can not
be examined in this short essay.
7.
For
a discussion of the concepts of the duty to consult and
the duty to consult see Haida Nation v. British Columbia
(Minister of Forests), [2004] 3 S.C.R. 511, 2004 SCC 73 and Mikisew Cree
First Nation v. Canada (Minister of Canadian Heritage), 2005 SCC 69. These and other recent
cases can be found either through the web site of the Supreme
Court of Canada or through the CANLII (Canadian Legal Information
Institute) site which also has decisions of provincial superior
courts and courts of appeal and federal and provincial statutes.
8.
Specifically,
the final report of the Commons Special Committee on Indian Self-Government,
Keith Penner, chairman, 1983 and the 2000 Report of the Senate
Committee on Aboriginal Peoples entitled, Forging New Relationships
The more recent parliamentary committee reports and proceedings
can be found on the Canadian parliamentary web site, www.parl.gc.ca.
9.
“Hate”,
Oxford English Dictionary, CD-ROM.
10.
I
have often reminded my students, individually and in classes that
it is generally unwise to attribute emotions to corporate entities
including government agencies. I do, however, grant that it is
appropriate to ascribe emotional ideas to individual officials
and to the general consensus of officials within an agency, as
part of an explanation of that agency’s policies.
Michael (Mickey) Posluns, Ph.D. can be reached at: mposluns@accglobal.net.
+>>>><>>><<<><<<<+
ESQUEGA V, CANADA (ATTORNEY GENERAL): CHIEFS AND CONCILORS
NO LONGER HAVE TO LIVE ON RESERVE
Rarihokwats and Michael Posluns
As a result of the decision of the Federal Court of Canada (FCC)1
in Esquega v. Attorney General chiefs and councilors, the elected
leadership of First Nations communities in Canada no longer need
to live on the lands reserved for their First Nation community.2
This raises the specter of off-reserve members of a First
Nation deciding to move the band offices to an urban area, to
dedicate as much funding as possible to urban residents, and to
just leave the residents on reserve to figure out how they are
going to cope on their own.
Esquega was a decision of the Federal Court that came as a result
of an application from certain members of the Gull Bay First Nation,
located on the east side of Lake Nipigon, a large interior lake
north of Lake Superior in North Western Ontario.3 At
Gull Bay, the percentage of off-reserve members increased from
55% to 70% over the last three years as the Council included off-reserve
members.
Historically, band councils have had powers very similar to the
powers of a municipal council. Under the Canadian Indian Act these
councils were expected to provide local government for the land
designated as the lands reserved for a certain band and for the
members of that band while they are living on their reserved lands.
In a1999 decision, Corbiere4, the Supreme Court of
Canada ruled that non-resident members of First Nations communities
had some interest in the future of the community to which they
belonged and that the Minister of Indian Affairs was to make some
provision for non-residents to participate in the proceedings
of band councils. The Supreme Court of Canada criticized Indian
Affairs for its failure to introduce legislating to make some
provision for off-reserve members. The Supreme Court even suggested
some solutions in that case:
`Some parties and interveners have mentioned the possibility
of a two-tiered council, or reserved seats for off-reserve members
of the band, of double-majority votes on some issues.… But [the
government ] no evidence of efforts deployed or schemes considered
and costed, and no argument or authority in support of the conclusion
that costs and administrative convenience could justify a complete
denial of the constitutional right. Under these circumstances,
we must conclude that the violation has not been shown to be demonstrably
justified.5
In Corbière, the Court gave the federal government eighteen months
to (a) consult with First Nations, and (b) to amend the Indian
Act, presumably to offer one or more of these options. Instead,
(a) Indian Affairs engaged in only the most perfunctory of consultations,
and (b) did nothing except to pass a regulation allowing chiefs
to be non-residents. We need to ask whether the government’s failure
to active positively was a deliberate step toward dismantling
the Indian Act, or whether it was simply the usual incapacity
of Indian Affairs to engage in constructive and collaborative
action?
In Esquega, the only voice heard was that of councilors
who favored off-reserve councilors. Resident members were not
heard. Other First Nations were not heard. The only voice in opposition
was that of the Attorney General of Canada, who presented as his
only witness a person who was unable to answer even the most basic
of questions as to why the Indian Act had limited councilors to
those resident on reserve. The witness said that her answers to
some questions were just “personal opinions.” No effort was made
by Indian Affairs to alert First Nations of the significance of
the case. The Harper government stopped providing funds for “Charter
challenges” soon after it came into office. Only the handful of
independently wealthy bands could afford to intervene, if they
had been properly briefed.
At the end of the day, the Federal Court – a trial court that
hears cases involving federal administration – found that s. 75(1)
of the Indian Act is unconstitutional because it is in breach
of the Charter. However, it delayed the declaration of invalidity
for nine months – until 30 June 2008. This, the court said, would
give the Government of Canada time to amend s. 75(1) so that it
was no longer in breach of the Charter
Under the Indian Act, some First Nations’ reserved lands are
divided into districts, with a certain number of councilors being
elected from each district. A councilor had to be resident in
the district the councilor represented. It appears that all this
has been wiped out by Esquega.
The Government has until September 30 to decide if it will appeal
the decision. Conceivably, it could be argued that there is a
duty of some consultation with First Nations as to whether to
appeal. At least, it would seem there is a duty to immediately
advise First Nations of the decision. Also, those who do know
about the decision may want to make their views known to the Minister.
In the meantime, the Indian Act remains as it is Elections held
between now and June 2008 must be held according to provisions
of the Indian Act or they can be subject to appeal on the same
grounds that the Gull Bay election was appealed, i.e., that the
law is unconstitutional. On the other hand, since the Act has
not yet been changed, no election can be held under the new rules.
There are, as yet, no new rules. This impossible situation could
mean that no election can be held under the Indian Act for the
next nine months.
There is the possibility that the decision will have to be taken
into account for all appeals now before the Minister of Indian
Affairs – probably dozens of them. Can the Minister uphold a law
that has been ruled unconstitutional? No, but yet the Minister
will not have authority to decide re residency under any grounds
except the current Act.
It is also conceivable that legal challenges – rather than appeals
under the Indian Act – could be made on the validity of all
chiefs and councilors holding office pursuant to an Indian Act
election over the last two years.
Only the Government has the automatic right to decide to appeal
or not to appeal. If the Government does appeal, chances are the
case will go to the supreme Court of Canada, meaning a final decision
will come down about 2010 with good luck.
First Nations, tribal councils, Assemblies, etc., could ask the
Federal Court of Appeal for leave to intervene in an appeal if
one takes place. The window of opportunity to intervene is likely
to open and shut rather rapidly, meaning that First Nations who
oppose the decision should be organized and ready to go in October.
Almost certainly non-resident organizations will also want to
intervene to oppose the Government’s case.
Should be quite a circus for the Federal Court of Appeal to handle.
“Only in Canada,” you say?
P.S. The Federal Court hearings were held in Thunder Bay, Ontario
Gull Bay is 120 miles away, nearly a three-hour drive on remote
northern Ontario roads.
END NOTES
2
Broadly speaking, “reserve” is a Canadian synonym for
the American term “reservation.” The term likely originates in
the list of federal powers in the Constitution Act, 1867, in which
s.91(24) lists “Indians and lands reserved for the Indians”
as an exclusively federal power. Under the Canadian Indian Act
a First Nation community is described as an “Indian band.” Within
the terminology developed by First Nations political leaders over
the past twenty-five or more years, an Indian band is either a
“First Nation” or a “First Nation community.”
3
See http://atlas.nrcan.gc.ca/site/english/maps/topo/map?
for the location of Gull Bay as reported by the National Atlas
of Canada.
4
Corbiere v. Canada (Minister of Indian
and Northern Affairs), [1999] 2 S.C.R. 203 may be found at http://scc.lexum.umontreal.ca/en/1999/1999rcs2-203/1999rcs2-203.html.
5
Corbiere v. Canada. Under the
Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, when a party has demonstrated
that a provision of a statute or regulation violates a “Charter
right” the government may enter a defence that the violation is
“demonstrably justified in a free and democratic society,” provided
that the interference is no greater than necessary for some stated
public purpose. In Corbiere the government entered such a defence.
The Court was not persuaded.
+<>+<>+<>+
CITIZEN PARTICIPATION AND DEVELOPMENT: A HISTORY AND TENTATIVE
RESULTS OF GUATEMALA’S DEVLOPMENT COUNCIL SYSTEM
Mark Gibson, gibsonmc@gmail.com,
July 2, 2007
Guatemala is today experimenting with
an unusual public investment system. Called the Development Council
System, it incorporates citizen participation into investment
planning activities while at the same time organizing and teaching
communities to advance own development. In light of current development
theory, this is important for three reasons.
First, investment in a service or infrastructure project does
not mean real needs will be met. To combat underdevelopment, information
is needed on the poorest of communities. Yet these communities
are often the most geographically and socially removed from planning
processes. This is especially the case for Guatemala after centuries
of centralized planning and racist policies. As a result, more
than 60% of the population lives in poverty and this is highly
concentrated among its indigenous.
Second, there are many cultural components – e.g. values, attitudes,
and beliefs – to underdevelopment. A weak rule of law, feelings
of powerlessness, and isolating social norms, for example, limit
the ability of different groups to meaningfully participate in
the economy and government, even after receiving better roads,
improved education, and the like.
Third, and finally, social mobilization is necessary
to create a new basis for indigenous dignity and advancement.
More than half of Guatemala’s population of 13 million today identifies
itself with any of the country’s 22 indigenous groups. And for
these people, it is a disparaging socio-economic reality. This
is due to the impoverishing effects of colonialism and the further
exclusionary policies of Guatemala’s elite after decolonization.
And, most recently, a brutal civil war from 1960 to 1996 left
roughly 200,000 dead or “disappeared”, many of whom were indigenous.
To move beyond the pain, racism, and poverty felt by Guatemala’s
indigenous, new opportunities for promoting dignity and progress
are greatly needed.
For three months last year I conducted research in Sacatepéquez,
Guatemala – one of the country’s 22 departments. I discovered
that after twenty years in the making, the Development Council
System still struggles to achieve its goals. Tentative findings,
however, reveal that not all has been in vain.
The Development Council System
In 1987, Guatemala’s democracy was only two years
old, a civil war still smoldered, and a new law had been passed
offering communities the unusual opportunity to help shape public
investment. The law was the Urban and Rural Development Council
Law. It called for the establishment of a mutually supporting
system of councils on five territorial levels: the nation, region,
department, municipality, and community. There were to be a near-limitless
number of community councils and one council for each of the country’s
331 municipalities, 22 departments, and 8 regions. At the top,
a national council would articulate their planning into a national
investment plan for development. In the community councils would
sit up to thirteen people elected by their community. And on the
levels above would be political representatives, ranging from
mayors and community leaders to governors and the President. Civil
society, meanwhile, would have representatives from sectors ranging
from unions and business associations to cooperatives and nonprofit
organizations.
The councils would have two primary functions. First,
they would listen to the self-identified needs of the communities
who had formed their own community councils. This way, it might
become known that a rural village’s road will be washed out in
the next rainy season, or that an Indigenous urban area is being
neglected by education services. Second, the councils would together
plan and invest state resources according to the most pressing
of needs. As a result, participating communities would prosper
from new investment and by learning new ways to think, plan, and
act to improve their lives.
Unconstitutional
Councils
Guatemala’s experiment with institutionalized community
participation was put on an extended hold after only 8 months.
A civil war had tapered, but not ended. And in spite of careful
drafting, many still believed the Urban and Rural Development
Council Law to be dangerously progressive.
In the words of Miguel Von Hoegen, an economist and one of the
system’s earliest advocates, conservative policy makers were “fearful
of the community councils becoming fertile ground for revolutionary
groups and they tried to have the councils declared unconstitutional.”
In May 1988, the system’s opponents achieved a major
success: the Constitutional Court ruled that community councils
were unconstitutional because they procedurally weakened and dispersed
powers of municipal governments. The court, however, did not rule
that citizen participation, as envisioned by the law, was itself
unconstitutional.
The system thereafter continued, but without the community
level. 850 community councils – each with at least 250 members
– were dissolved, and at least 700 other communities gave up their
attempts to organize. Without its fundamental base, the Development
Council System did little to promote human development for the
next fourteen years. By 2001, the National Council had only met
three times, most of the municipal councils only existed on paper,
and the system’s resources were regularly misappropriated and
allocated on the basis of political affiliation. Slowly, however,
a peace process allowed a reformation of the system.
Peace and
Change
In 1996, Peace Accords were signed between the Guatemalan
government and the National Guatemalan Revolutionary Front. Among
other things, the Accords called for the Urban and Rural Development
Council Law to be reformed to reestablish the community councils.
Further, it called for a broader representation of civil society
and the provision of adequate funding for the system.
Three years later a non-partisan commission was convened
to alter the law in conformity with the recommendations of the
1988 ruling of the Constitutional Court and the Peace Accords.
Community councils would reside in no more than one municipal
territory and would have to cooperate with their respective municipal
governments. Women’s groups, Indigenous communities, farmer’s
associations, and several other sectors of civil society, meanwhile,
would have representation on the municipal councils and those
above.
The commission also gave more competencies to community councils
and more flexibility for any community group to form their own
council.
Specifically, community councils now had the responsibility
to audit municipal projects, assist in the development of municipal
budgets, and participate in the execution of investment projects.
And this time the term “community” was left undefined, both in
number and territory. Any self-identifying community could now
form a council provided they follow the appropriate procedures.
Development Council System 2.0
The commission’s draft was approved by Congress in
2002 as the new Urban and Rural Development Council Law, and this
established one of the most progressive national-level public
investment systems in all of Latin America. Since then, the new
Development Council System has been slow to launch. A lack of
political will, an illiteracy rate as high as 31%, a poorly educated
adult population, and more than 20 linguistic groups – all have
slowed the dissemination of the law and implementation of the
new system.
In 2006, 84 municipalities, roughly 25%, had not formed
their municipal councils as required by law. The National Council,
meanwhile, only first met that year in June. And yet, the Development
Council System has still become a meaningful reality for many
communities in Guatemala. In spite of an extreme scarcity of training
programs and didactic materials, there are today more than 11,000
community councils spread across the country. A considerable amount
of resources has also been put at the disposal of the system.
A percentage of the national value-added tax has been
allocated to the Departmental Councils for infrastructure projects.
This year these resources accounted for 3.17% of the approved
national budget – roughly US$ 159 million. And Guatemala’s many
social funds are also required to channel their resources to councils.
These governmental institutions are given funds to invest in development
projects and services according to their own criteria. In 2006,
the two largest social funds alone accounted for 1.79% of the
approved national budget – roughly US$ 90 million.
Confused Councils
Beginning in May 2006, I spent three months investigating
the functioning of the Development Council System in the 16 municipalities
of Sacatepéquez, Guatemala I discovered that the system has not
yet realized its full potential for a variety of reasons. One
reason, and perhaps the most pervasive and damaging problem for
the system, is the lack of knowledge of the system’s law and regulations
among many existing councils.
In some cases, this problem exists because the councils
are new and uninformed. A number of villages, city districts,
and community groups in the department have formed community councils
at the encouragement of their mayors. With few training resources,
they must piece together an understanding of the Development Council
System through examination of its heavily-worded law, regulations,
and supporting legislation. “What is a municipal council? What
is a community council? What are their functions? I understand
the basics, but I don’t know all the details,” a community council
president told me in the municipality of San Lucas. Limited knowledge
and understanding of the system has also been a problem, although
to a lesser extent, among municipal councils.
A Model Municipality for “Implementation”
In some municipalities, confusion over role and function
is more troubling. Magdalena Milpas Altas, for example, appears
to be a model municipality for the Development Council System.
It is one of Sacatepéquez’s four municipalities where a municipal
council regularly meets. It also has numerous municipal council
work commissions.
Closer examination, however, reveals that an older
form of municipal organization continues illegally under the banner
of the Development Council System. Pedro Martinez Perez, Mayor
of Magdalena Milpas Altas, formed the municipal council over a
year ago and explains that he was able to do so with great ease
since the system’s municipal and community levels closely mirror
the municipality’s traditional “village committee” system. “We
have a community council in each village, and here in town we
have the commissions: the Health Commission, the Sports Commission,
the Education Commission, and the Reforestation Commission”
While the mayor is pleased with his municipality’s
implementation of the Development Council System, I discovered
that it regularly violates the system’s law and regulations by
continuing with its traditional organization. Illegally, all but
villages have been denied the right to form community councils.
And urban community groups may meet to discuss community issues
only when the Mayor convenes the issue’s respective work commission.
At least one community group is displeased. Anna Lucrecia
Gomez de Bautista, a resident legal expert, explains that last
year she assisted a community group who had to cancel a project
to build a park for the municipality’s urban residents. As they
were not a village, they could not attain the necessary legal
status of a community council to manage a large charitable donation.
“This group of 160 people…was trying to become a community council
so they could receive the money and manage the project,” Gomez
says. “But the municipality didn’t support it.” Without clear
regulations to timely resolve the issue in the Departmental Council,
the community group canceled the project and removed its case
against the Mayor for fear of further souring relations.
According to Gomez, no community group in Magdalena Milpas Altas
has attempted to form a council since the failure.
The Quick Caciques
Another problem for the Development Council System
is the holes in the law and regulations allowing undemocratic
behavior. In Sacatepéquez, a number of municipal governments have
learned ways to manipulate the system to advance their particular
- often narrow - personal interests, much like the authoritarian
"caciques", or chiefs, of Guatemala's past. This is
best seen in the acquisition and use of the department’s funds
for infrastructure projects.
It works like this: To acquire departmental funds,
a mayor must present a project proposal to his Departmental Council.
Included with this proposal must be a statement of approval and
support from a benefiting community council. This is to show the
project will meet a community need, has been developed with the
participation of a community, and will be executed with the same
community. What is not required, however, is evidence that the
supporting community is a legitimate community group, and that
the project proposal will meet a real and urgent community need.
By law, a municipal council – composed of representatives of community
councils and other civil society organizations – must already
exist and meet regularly in each municipality. This council is
chaired by the municipal mayor and decides what projects are feasible
and most desired through majority vote. Because of this, it should
be unnecessary to prove that a proposal presented to a Departmental
Council represents a real and pressing need.
Unfortunately, there are currently no mechanisms to
ensure that municipalities create and regularly convene their
municipal councils. Many undemocratic municipal governments, therefore,
can push through infrastructure projects representing their own
interests simply by creating their own community councils.
In the municipality of Santo Domingo Xenacoj, community
leader Florencio Bajxac Tum struggled with his neighborhood group
for over a year to obtain the status of a community council. They
succeeded in September 2005. Afterwards, however, their relationship
with the municipal government changed little. “They said it was
fine [to form a council], but that they didn’t need our participation,
and that we could just give them a list of our projects,” Bajxac
explains. Bajxac’s council has since been virtually ignored by
the municipal government. No municipal council has been established
and they have received no response to their project proposals.
Another community council formed by the Mayor, meanwhile, has
supported many, if not all, of the municipality’sprojects presented
to the Departmental Council. “There are two or three people in
it,” Baxjac says of the other council. “They don’t even have an
act book for writing official proposals.”
The Dangerous Crooks
In other municipalities, the embezzlement of state
funds through the system is also apparent. Eduardo Mesa, a community
council president in the municipality of Santa Lucia, has received
anonymous death threats. In 2005, Mesa’s village was given nationally-owned
land for a football field after contacting a social fund. On it
they discovered the Mayor of Santa Lucia had already built the
village a vastly overpriced school with departmental funds, although
the village had never been notified. As they learned, an illegitimate
community council had been used.
“How can a mayor show he spent Q 1.5 million [US $200,000]
on a school on land that didn’t belong to him?” Mesa asks. “That
is illegal and a negligent use of public funds.”In spite of numerous
threats, Mesa filed a complaint to the Public Ministry. The Public
Ministry, over a year later, has not yet investigated and the
football field project has been canceled.
As a result of fear and frustration, the community
council is close to disbanding. And Mesa, the council’s founder,
has lost much of his faith in democratic participation. “People
don’t live in liberty of anything,” he concludes.
Tradition and Development
A final significant problem for the functioning of
the Development Council System is many communities are struggling
to harmonize their new opportunities for civic participation with
their cultural traditions.
In the department of Antigua Guatemala, two poor villages demonstrate
the challenge of successfully negotiating between new and old
behaviors: El Hato and San Cristobal El Alto. Both of these villages
are demographically and geographically similar. Each has roughly
1,000 inhabitants and lies roughly 3 miles from the rich, tourist
mecca of Antigua. Further, they are both primarily dedicated to
agriculture. But rather than both benefiting equally from the
Development Council System, in the past four years El Hato has
floundered while San Cristobal has flourished.
I was first made aware of this situation when I met
with Innocente Cutzan, San Cristobal’s former community council
president. “El Hato and San Cristobal El Alto were the two villages
with the fewest services and infrastructure in Antigua Guatemala,”
Cutzan explained. “Now we are much better off than El Hato. We
have electricity, public lighting, and tomorrow we are doing water
[quality] tests.” Cutzan believes the difference can be explained
by each village’s non-agricultural workers. Where El Hato has
only a few residents working as professionals in Antigua, San
Cristobal has at least several dozen working as professionals
in Guatemala City and Antigua. “An advantage that we have is that
the majority of the council are professionals, while in communities
like El Hato the majority of the council work in the field.” “[The
difference is] the way we present ourselves, and manage ourselves
and develop our projects,” he continued. “For example, if El Hato
needs a meeting with the municipality, fifteen people come to
the meeting. The Mayor doesn’t want to meet with fifteen people.
He wants to meet briefly for 10-15 minutes.”
I visited El Hato and saw that the village indeed
had but a few with livelihoods outside of agriculture. Further,
village planning through open debate and well-attended meetings
is, as Cutzan pointed out, a long-standing and important tradition
in the community. This is perhaps due to its relationship with
subsistence agriculture; such practices allow for the resolution
of differences and assure that no one disproportionately benefits
– something quite important when people must cooperate and share
generously to survive under difficult conditions.
Unfortunately
for El Hato, it seems that the village will either need to change
its ways of planning or risk missing out on the benefits of the
Development Council System. El Hato’s manner of working with the
municipality, combined with the Mayor’s intolerance, has now closed
all possibilities for cooperating. Pedro Socorec, El Hato’s community
council president, gravely notes, “Our highway may wash out this
rainy season and the Mayor does not even respond to us anymore.”
Tentative Conclusions
The Development Council System, as seen in the department
of Sacatepéquez, faces some incredible challenges, ranging from
poor implementation to corruption to a variety of cultural obstacles
to development. This does not mean, however, that the system will
not find greater success in its endeavors to deliver investment
to the most needy and change the way communities across Guatemala
think, plan, and act to promote their own development
In my research, I found five reasons to believe the
Development Council System will one day significantly advance
the human development of Guatemala.
First, the Development Council System is a legitimate extension
of social aspirations. The challenges the system faces remind
that no institution ever functions in a cultural vacuum and the
very cultures the Development Council System aims to change will
at least partly define it. But rather than existing as a hollow
instrument to be filled by existing cultures – as the system might
if it were foreign-imposed – the Development Council System carries
with it its own set of pro-development values and intended norms
of activism and broad cooperation. These were created through
more than twenty years of struggle for democracy and equity, and
are promoted today by various sectors of society.
For example, while the Development Council System
may not function well in the department of Sacatepéquez, most
participating communities see that there are many problems and
are supporting the system so that it will eventually function
as intended. In the municipality of San Miguel Dueñas, one community
leader explains, “We think the only way we can improve our communities
is by participating and changing the authorities so we might have
better political decision making in the municipality.”
Second, the Development Council System has and
will continue affecting positive change in communities and municipalities
throughout the country. Some, if not many, of the 11,000 participating
communities across Guatemala have begun to learn how to plan and
propose development projects. In a few cases like that of San
Cristobal El Alto, they have learned so well that they will likely
meet all their basic needs through the system.
Some municipal governments are also using the system
as was intended. The municipality of Jocotenango in Sacatepéquez,
for example, has begun holding monthly town hall meetings to discuss
issues and plan future municipal projects. This is a tradition
that is relatively uncommon in Guatemala’s municipalities. Apart
from severe cases involving overpriced schools and death threats,
there is no reason to believe that the Development Council System
will not continue promoting change.
Third, knowledge supportive of human development
is something increasingly accessible and shared across communities.
For example, while the poor village of El Hato mentioned above
struggles to gain from the Development Council System, many of
its youths are today getting the education their parents never
had and many progressive communities like San Cristobal El Alto
have begun to share their insights with other more challenged
communities like El Hato. During times of conflict, organizing
to make claims on the state would have been dangerous and many
lost out on even basic education. Further, there simply was not
a common system for all communities to operate under. One community’s
knowledge of how to work with state institutions and its municipal
government would not have been as useful for communities elsewhere.
Fourth, the public is increasingly aware of the
Development Council System and its problems. For example,
in an October 2006 online search of Prensa Libre, one of
the country’s most respected newspapers, 47 articles had already
been published on the Development Council System in 2006, compared
with 27 articles in 2005, and two articles in 2004. This suggests
the Development Council System may soon find support at the polls
and possibly increased calls for regulatory reforms.
Fifth, and finally, didactic materials and training
programs have been shown to greatly support the creation and improved
functioning of councils in Sacatepéquez. One organization,
the Nahual Foundation, has been offering weekly training workshops
and didactic materials on the Development Council System to community
leaders since 2004. As a result, 267 people are now proficient
in the Development Council System’s law and regulations and 17
new community councils have been established.
While there are no plans to replicate training efforts
like those of the Nahual Foundation elsewhere in the country,
the Guatemalan government is currently seeking financing for the
printing of as many as 50,000 training booklets. Given these reasons,
the Development Council System may still realize the possibilities
for human development first glimpsed over twenty years ago. And
at least for this student of development, it will continue to
be an experiment worth following.
<<<<<<<(+)>>>>>>>
CLIMATE CHANGE, RELATED ENVIRONMENTAL DEGREDATION
AND INDIGENOUS PEOPLE
Stephen M. Sachs
Climate change, from largely human induced global warming,
and other environmental degradation from pollution and over use
of resources, effects everyone on the earth, but in many instances
is particularly impacting poor, and especially indigenous people.
In the past, when faced with changing natural conditions, indigenous
people could adapt. But that is much harder to do now. Using their
traditional knowledge, indigenous people on Islands of Indonesia
had foreknowledge of the tsunami that wreaked great havoc in the
region, to escape inland before the great wave struck, and suffered
no deaths or injuries. This is becoming more difficult to achieve,
for two reasons. First, as climates and related conditions change,
traditional knowledge is less applicable to the developing physical
circumstances. Second, and more important, Indigenous people are
more and more constrained in moving, as they are limited to reservations,
often shrinking traditional areas, or own land privately that
they may not be able to replace, if forced to move. Thus, as the
combination of rising ocean, more intense storms, and the washing
away of costal wetlands because of the dyking of the Mississippi
River cause costal lands in Louisiana to be lost to the Gulf of
Mexico, the tribes that live on that coast line have no where
to retreat to.1 The United Houma Nation, the Chitimacha,
the Pointe au Chien, the Biloxi-Chitimacha Confederation of Muscogee,
the Jena Band of Choctaw and the Chanta, who were the backbone
of the Louisiana seafood, crabbing, oystering, shrimping, hunting,
alligator and fur processing industries, not only endured serious
losses of homes, boats and other property from hurricanes Katrina
and Rita, but suffered significant land loss, leaving them more
threatened for the next major storm, which may completely obliterate
their remaining land bases.
The impact of severe weather on indigenous people was evident,
in August (as reported above), when the worst storm in memory
crashed through Mexico’s Yucatan peninsula, not only destroying
houses, but felling thousands of fruit trees that are the livelihood
of Mayan people. But that is only one effect on weather from global
warming. Tribes, and other farming and herding people in Africa
are losing irreplaceable arable and grazing land from the spread
of deserts, while the warming weather is melting the glacier and
snow pack on top of Mount Kilimanjaro, seriously reducing the
water supply for an entire ecosystem. The same is a major threat
elsewhere, including for indigenous people in several places in
South America.
Drying weather, is presenting other problems as well.
Across the United States west, fire seasons have become longer
and more severe. Several tribes in Southern California received
extensive damage from wild fire in the fall of 2003, including
at San Pasqual, where the entire reservation burned, destroying
67 of 68 houses and killing at least two people,2 while
the White Mountain Apache nation lost
half of the timber, which is their largest source of income, in
a fire, that burned 469,000 acres, in the summer of 2002, causing
70 sawmill and forestry workers to lose their jobs.3
In addition, the fire destroyed lands in which non-Indians pay
a considerable amount to hunt. Reduced rainfall, combined with
increasing overuse and pollution of existing water, threatens
agriculture in much of the western, and parts of the mid-western
U.S. This summer, for the first time in history, the Bad River Band of Lake Superior Chippewa were forced to
cancel their entire wild rice crop, because of low water (as is
discussed above). At this writing, on October 24, a series of
fires is burning across seven counties in Southern California,
burning thousands houses. threatening several major towns, forcing
the evacuation of more than half a million people. More than 26000
acres of land were scorched on the Yuina, Rincon, La Jolla, San
Pasqual, Pala, Capitan Grande, Mesa Grande, Santa Ysabel, Barona,
Jamul and Inaja-Cosmit reservations, destroying over 100 homes
and much infrastructure, while other lands, structures and people
remain threatened.4
The fastest warming and greatest shift in climate is in the arctic
regions, with significant impacts on Indigenous peoples. In Alaska,5
rising sea levels and melting sea ice, glaciers and tundra have
greatly increased flooding, to the extent that a 2003 Government
Accounting Office Report found that more than 86% of the 213 Alaska
Native Villages had experienced recent flooding, The flooding
is worsening, and many of these villages will have to move or
be abandoned. At the same time, the subsistence living carried
out by many Native Alaskans is becoming increasingly more difficult,
and is threatened. Warming climate is destroying the habitat for
some plants and animals, while providing opportunities for others
to move north, often further impacting habitats, occasionally
in ways that are helpful to Indigenous people, but mostly which
make Native life more difficult. A number of major mammalian species
are seriously declining and may become virtually extinct, including
walrus, some species of seals and polar bears. Migration routes
and ranges of some animals are being afected. In Northwest Alaska,
for instance, westward movement of Western Arctic Caribou has
been crowding out reindeer from their usual territory. As a result,
by 2001, eight of the 15 Native reindeer herders on the Seward
Peninsula had been driven out of business. In addition, travel,
including in the process of hunting and gathering, is becoming
more dangerous, as exemplified by declining sea ice making the
violent impact of storms more imminent, while thinning costal
ice is becoming more hazardous, or simply less available for hunting,
fishing and travel. This not only increases risk, but also the
time and cost of food accumulating activities, whether for consumption
or sale.
As climates and habitats change, the loss of ways of living, and
of long important species not only has direct survival and wellbeing
effects, it also undermines important aspects of traditional cultures.
For Hopi and other Pueblo Indians in the Southwest, farming, and
the cycles of seasons and crops have been at the center of their
ceremonies, spirituality and way of being since the most ancient
times.6 When drought made their homes in such places
as Chaco canyon and Mesa Verde unlivable, between 1100 and 1400,
they moved to more favorable locations, including to a number
of places where Pueblos are now located along the Rio Grande,
where traditional life and culture could continue with some adaptation.
Today such a migration would not be possible, so that loss of
traditional livelihood would cause a major increase in the movement
of pueblo people from their homes for jobs at more distant places,
while a few might remain at home making a living in non-traditional
ways – assuming that climate change does not become so severe
as to create a catastrophe well beyond this scenario.
A similar
situation is developing in the Pacific North West, where salmon
have been central to the livelihood and culture of a number of
Indian peoples.7 Several aspects of climate change
have been exasperating a serious decline in salmon from a variety
of causes, including damming of rivers, pollution, urban development
and over fishing. First, reduced snow pack and earlier spring
melting, contributing to higher winter and lower summer stream
flows have changed the hydrologic cycle, negatively impacting
salmon reproduction. At the same time, the rising ocean has increased
shore erosion, damaging costal habitat, while the timing and extent
of fresh water mixing with ocean water in estuaries and along
the cost also is degrading salmon costal habitat, even as rising
temperatures bring new predators of salmon to the area, and there
is the possibility that with warmer temperatures, the salmon may
move away, to more northern areas.
The overuse of resources, often exacerbated by, and sometimes
causing activity exacerbating, climate change, is also impacting
Indigenous people. This has already been referred to, briefly,
concerning using up (and polluting) of increasingly scarce usable
water, which is a world wide problem, and of over fishing of salmon,
contributing to their decline and endangerment – a serious problem
around the planet concerning many species, being worsened by global
warming. The most serious problem is the increasing world wide
demand for energy, and the consuming of declining petroleum reserves,
with oil more difficult and expensive to find, extract and transport.
The expanding
use of oil and other fossil fuels is the primary cause of global
warming. The peaking of readily available oil (and to a lesser
extent, natural gas) is having a secondary effect that is negatively
impacting many peoples, but especially the indigenous. One aspect
of this problem (reported in the last two issues of IPJ)
has been a huge movement, particularly in the Americas, to produce
biofuel, most often ethanol from corn, as a substitute (usually
as an additive) for gasoline. First, this has raised the price
of food, and particularly corn, an economic hardship on low income
people, often including Native people. In Mexico this has manifested
in the unprecedented rise in the price of the tortilla, a staple
for those less well off, including most tribal people (though
it has brought more income to many Indigenous and other small
farmers, who had difficulty selling their corn in the face of
subsidized competition from the U.S. after the institution of
NAFTA). Second, particularly in Columbia, the rush to grow biofuel
crops has brought about huge land grabs by wealthy interests,
forcing many people off their lands, most notably persons of African
descent, but increasingly Indigenous people as well. In addition,
as the quest for more farm land to produce energy brings deforestation,
so it increases climate change, as carbon dioxide absorbing trees
are cut down, while the burning of ethanol and similar biofuels
adds to the production of green house gasses. The one climate
change mitigating result of the growing world energy crises, is
that it is encouraging the development of non-greenhouse gas emitting,
alternative energy, in which tribal people are involved.
Over all, Rodolfo Stavenhagen,
UN Special Rapporteur on the situation of human rights and fundamental
freedoms of indigenous peoples, summed up the situation in reporting
to the UN Third Committee (Social, Humanitarian and Cultural),
October 22, that global warming and increasing exploitation of
natural resources, continue to bring about the dispossessing of
Indigenous peoples’ ancestral lands, to the point that some small
isolated communities are at risk of physically disappearing, in
spite of recent progress in recognizing the rights of Indigenous
people. Stavenhagen said that "Extractive activities, large
commercial plantations and non-sustainable consumption patterns
have led to widespread pollution and environmental degradation."
The end result, he said, was that indigenous peoples, whose lives
were closely linked to their lands, were dramatically affected
by such trends, which had in turn led to their forced displacements.
The Special Rapporteur stated that the shrinking of Indigenous
territory has been intensified by the dynamics of the globalized
economy and its attendant increase in water and energy exploitation.8
One of the major responses to global warming and the
increasing energy crunch by tribes in the United States has been
developing wind, photovoltaic and other forms of energy that do
not contribute to global warming. The Intertribal Council on Utility
Policy, an organization composed of federally recognized Indian
tribes in the northern Great Plains, has been among those organizations
supporting the growth of wind powered electric generation that
has been developing among a number of Great Plains Tribes over
the last few years.9 The
Council was recognized at the Faktor 4-Festival in Basel, Switzerland,
June 15 with a Special Award for its work assisting the establishment
of the first commercial wind power generation on any reservation,
with the 750-kilowatt turbine on the Rosebud Reservation, in South
Dakota. The Three Affiliated Tribes, of Montana, began operating
their first wind turbine on the Fort Berthold Reservation in the
spring of 2006. The Morongo Band of Mission Indians are
constructing a wind generation station to meet their own and surrounding
community power needs,10
The Navajo Nation has included wind power in its energy development
program, though there is controversy over its plan to also build
a new coal fired electric generation plant, even though it will
be much less polluting of the air (but not in terms of carbon
dioxide production) than older coal generating facilities (see
On Going Activities Above). The Hopi Nation is going ahead with
both wind and photovoltaic electric power generation. Honor the
Earth, in coordination with Solar Energy International, the Western
Shoshone Defense Project, American Spirit Productions and the
Battle Mountain Band of Te-Moak Western Shoshone provided free
training and installation of a solar photovoltaic system in Western
Shoshone territory near Elko, Nevada in April, 2005.11
Laguna Pueblo designer Dave Melton and Sacred Power Corporation
of Albuquerque, of which he is co-owner, had brought electricity
to 30 isolated homes on the Navajo Reservation in New Mexico,
using wind turbines and photovoltaic cells, as of June 2005.12
Some tribes have been working
to capture methane (a potent greenhouse gas, if allowed to escape
into the air) from land fills, to use as fuel. A number of U.S.
tribes are taking advantage of carbon credits, the planting of
trees which absorb carbon dioxide, to offset the production of
the greenhouse gas in power production and industry.13
The first to do so was the Confederated Tribes of the Coleville
Reservation in Washington, 1990, who were paid by area power companies
reforest some of their land, Others include the Nez Perce Nation
of Idaho, who reforested land cleared for farming in the Nineteenth
Century, that was no longer used for agriculture, and the Lummi
Tribe in Washington, who bought 1700 acres of logged land to replant
with trees, selling the carbon credits to a power company.
A number of Indigenous
nations are undertaking research on how best to act in the face
of climate change. For example, Ealat, the Reindeer Herders’ Vulnerability
Network of Indigenous people in Norway, in collaboration with
the Association of World Reindeer Herders, is undertaking a Study,
Reindeer Pastoralism in a Changing Climate, to determine
the ability of this ancient herding way of living to adapt to
climate change, and to propose policy to government and the private
sector that will increase the viability of Reindeer herding in
the face of climate change.14 The Arctic Council is
a high-level forum for cooperation, coordination and interaction
between Arctic states, indigenous communities and other Arctic
residents, focusing on some of the key challenges facing the Arctic
region, particularly the need for integrated resource management
to meet climate change.15 This includes abroad spectrum
of research and policy proposal undertakings. Tribal colleges
in the United States have also been engagedin research into how
their nations can respond to climate change, in some cases in
a partnership with the U.S. Geological Survey created organization,
Native View, while including study of the changing environment
in their curricula – integrating traditional and western scientific
knowledge – and doing what they can, with limited budgets, to
make their campuses green, from recycling, to improving energy
efficiency and reducing pollution.16 Meanwhile (as
reported above), Northwest Indian College now offers a Bachelor
of Science in Native Environmental Science.
Collectively, Indigenous
people are beginning to take action on climate change and other
environmental issues. As reported above, The United
League of Indigenous Nations was formed
at the July 31 - August 2 Indigenous Treaty Gathering at Lummi
Nation in Washington state to deal with the environment and other
issues. Lummi Nation Chief Jaret Cardinal, proposing approving
the treaty, commented The time is right for the indigenous tribes
to stand together to help combat the problems of global warming.
The significance of this treaty is that we are being given the
opportunity to do something. [...] Time is something we have little
of if we are going to address the environment. If we are to truly
have a strong voice, then we need to have global economies where
international trade is required.''
A number of other Indigenous
nations in the U.S. and elsewhere are taking similar steps to
lesson climate change. However, as the vast proportion of actions
causing global warming and other environmental degradation is
being caused by non-indigenous governments, their policies and
private corporations, there is only a very small amount that Native
peoples, governments and organizations can do directly to slow
and limit climate change and other environmental damage. Perhaps
the most important contribution that native people can make is
by sharing Indigenous ways of thinking, so that well meaning actions
do not end up making the situation worse, or creating new difficulties.
All traditional Indigenous people consider themselves
to be part of nature, with a responsibility to keep it in balance,
both for their own good, and that of all other beings. From experience
they understand the necessity of taking into account the short
and long term effects of actions, being aware of the full set
of relationships that are involved in all human activity. If the
world’s leading public and private policy makers of the last two
centuries had been Indigenous thinkers, climate change would not
be a major world crises, today.
The key learnings from Indigenous thinking for the
world in dealing with climate change are that everything is connected,
but each location is unique.17 Actions and events have
developing consequences over time, so that in making decisions,
it is necessary to take into account the full range of relationships
that are involved, considering how they will be affected over
an unfolding, and lengthy, period of time. Western science has
long focused on taking things apart, and reducing consideration
of phenomena to focus on a limited number of factors, in order
to isolate essential forces or rules. This approach has great
power, but its reductionism tends to miss the interconnections
that contemporary ecology, the cutting edge of physics, and developing
chaos or complexity theory are beginning to demonstrate to the
West, are the true nature of the world. It is an exceedingly complex,
interactive system. Climate change and other ecological issues
are essentially issues of how we use resources (broadly defined
to include energy and matter, that which is animate and inanimate),
including the chains of direct and indirect effects of finding,
acquiring, transporting, processing, and applying those resources
and disposing of (or allowing to disperse) the byproducts of that
use. This requires analyzing holistically, in terms of complex
systems with interacting subsystems, so that decisions are made
in the course of examining the full range of relationships and
interactions involved, over time. It involves understanding that
every action has a wide range of effects that need to be taken
into account. This means not only examining all of the physical
aspects of an ecological problem over time, but the full range
of human concerns as well: social, cultural, economic, political,..,
in order to develop an appropriate balanced set of actions across
time.
Another tendency of traditional western science and
thought has been to develop general conclusions, and to apply
them universally, often without thinking through how they properly
apply in different circumstances. This has caused untold problems.18
For example business or technical consultants often take a program
that worked well in one place, or a set of similar sites, and
“can it”, simply presenting the program in other locales without
first assessing the conditions and needs of that location. When
those conditions and needs are different from what the presenter
assumed, the program does not work. This is an especially serious
problem in making cross-cultural transfers. For example, several
years ago agricultural scientists developed a new variety of cotton
that was more hardy and produced more cotton per plant than traditional
varieties. They took it to villagers in one location in India,
without asking what the local people used the cotton plants for.
Most of the villagers decided to try the new cotton. But when
the scientists returned five years later, they found only a small
amount of the cotton being grown was the new variety. The reason
was that the villagers used the plant both to produce cotton,
and for fuel by burning the stalks. Th