“Many people don't recognize that Oka is not ‘near Kanehsatà:ke’,
Oka IS Kanehsatà:ke,” says Ellen Gabriel. “These
are our traditional territories,” which she says have fallen prey to massive
“land fraud” since the first Europeans entered the area. “In 1990,
they wanted the army to come in here and take over, and they still do. They
want to have another conflict. Otherwise they would have done something by now to
seek a moratorium on development.”
By Matthew Behrens
At the heart of one of many
unresolved Indigenous land rights issues facing a Trudeau government that is long
on promises but short on substance is Oka, a village 50 km west of Montreal indelibly
stamped by the historic 1990 standoff between the Canadian military and the
Mohawks of Kanehsatà:ke.
While the “Oka Summer” is often viewed as a singular crisis – when
thousands of heavily-armed, paramilitary Quebec police and RCMP were joined by
over 3,300 Canadian soldiers, twice as many as were sent to Iraq that same year
to fight in Desert Storm – it was but one of many moments in a centuries-long
history of Mohawk resistance to land dispossession that is once more bubbling
to the surface.
Protests against encroachments on traditional territories by the
western Quebec municipality and a private developer began in earnest once again
this past summer on the 27th anniversary of the 78-day
confrontation. Land defenders gathered at the site of new home construction to
point out they had not been consulted about, much less provided consent for, a
massive project that would see 400 houses built. In addition to reading out
public declarations declaring sovereignty over the land, they confronted the mayor
of Oka, erected signs reminding residents that the territory is disputed, and
took to social media with video documentation of freshly buried gas lines,
felled trees, and newly paved paths that appeared to threaten the last parcel
of common lands belonging to the Mohawks, a wooded area known as The Pines.
Among those documenting and resisting the unauthorized
construction is Ellen Gabriel, one of the key negotiators during the 1990
confrontations, when the town of Oka sought to expand a nine-hole golf course
and parking lot over sacred Indigenous burial grounds while also building
condos that would have threatened The Pines.
“Many people don't recognize that Oka is not ‘near Kanehsatà:ke’,
Oka is Kanehsatà:ke,” says Gabriel. “These
are our traditional territories,” which she says have fallen prey to massive
“land fraud” since the first Europeans entered the area.
Complicating things is a failure of all levels of government to
acknowledge responsibility, with Ottawa claiming it cannot interfere with
provincial and township decisions, and the latter two insisting final
resolution lies with the Feds. Since 2016, Gabriel and the Longhouse
matrilineal clan society entrusted with land stewardship at Kanehsatà:ke have
been firing off letters seeking an urgent meeting with Minister of
Crown-Indigenous Relations Carolyn Bennett, but she appears reluctant to get
involved. Bennett’s press secretary,
Sabrina Williams, declared in an email that “we don't
have jurisdiction, all we can do is facilitate discussions,” adding that
Bennett is trying to find a suitable meeting date.
Should such
a meeting occur, Gabriel says a major bone of contention would be federal
legislation forced on the Mohawks in 2001, the Kanesatake Interim Land Base Governance Act. Instead of acting on the recommendation of John Caccia, the former Quebec
minister of Indian affairs who called for all disputed lands to be returned to the
Mohawks of Kanehsatà:ke, Ottawa chose instead to produce a law that forcibly extinguished Aboriginal
title to their lands, what Gabriel calls “the final piece of paper which they didn’t have, which means
surrendering our lands. They like to call it the harmonization of municipal
bylaws with Oka to make it sound sweet.” Gabriel says the land is technically
“for our benefit and use, so we get certificates of possession, but that
doesn't mean we own the land according to Canadian law.” The Act’s proponents
did not seek or receive consent from the Longhouse, as the federal government
prefers to deal with Indian Act-created band councils, which tend to be more
compliant with federal prerogatives.
“We’re one of the few nations that continue to practice
traditional forms of governance that preceded European arrival,” Gabriel
explains. “We survived colonization, and the band council is a creation of
Canada. There’s nothing traditional about it. It's hierarchical and there’s
nothing democratic about it.”
As some pundits speculate about “Oka 2” breaking out, Gabriel says
she believes it’s the federal government that’s game for escalation. “In 1990,
they wanted the army to come in here and take over, and they still do. They
want to have another conflict. Otherwise they would have done something by now to
seek a moratorium on development.”
(Mohawk Council Chief Serge Simon did not return numerous phone
messages and email requests for comment on this story, though he reportedly
told Radio Canada that he supports a construction moratorium.)
A new space for dialogue could be created, however, depending on
the outcome of the November 5th Oka mayoral election. If elected, Julie
Tremblay, a former school board president and businesswoman, hopes to change
not only the tone, but also the substance, of relations with the Mohawks. She’s
also campaigning with the knowledge that many non-Indigenous residents oppose
the development because it would seriously alter the small village spirit that
marks Oka.
“I
actually saw the trees coming down when it was first happening,” she says,
adding “the mayor lacked sensitivity because he knew very well about the
Mohawks being concerned. He didn't advise anybody.”
Tremblay
says not living in Oka during the 1990 standoff provides her a beneficial
distance, as “I don't re-live the traumatic experiences from that time.” She
agrees that the Longhouse “is part of the solution. We need to respect that in
the Indigenous population, lots of people still rely on the Longhouse to make
decisions, so they need to be at the table.”
Although
Mohawks do have a right to vote in the election, Tremblay concedes “most don't
want to because it is associated with the colonialist system. But they are a
fourth of our population. Even if they don't vote, I want to make a
consultative seat on the council just for Indigenous affairs. They need to be
consulted and know what’s going on.”
Tremblay says that while “we should stop further development until
the Mohawks are consulted, I also want to push the federal government to reach
a final agreement so it's clear for everybody. Right now it's a burden for us,
because we live with the problem but have no power to do anything about it
except for consulting and being sensitive about it. It's between the federal
government and the Mohawks, it's out of our hands.”
In the meantime, a new generation of land defenders is getting
involved in the Oka gatherings, including 24-year-old Caitlyn Richard, a First
Peoples studies Concordia student who didn't learn about the 1990 crisis until
she was in high school.
“I
never pictured myself as a protester or activist,” she says. “But going and
seeing all the trees that had been demolished was eye-opening and terrifying.
It looked like a natural disaster had come by and wiped out everything.” She
says some residents of the new homes “are younger families with children who
didn't know that this is where 1990 happened or that there were Mohawks living
nearby. We explained why we're here, that this is our territory, and they get
it. Some have said they understand and support what we're doing.”
The
new residents also have nothing to fear. In a public statement read out this
summer, Gabriel was clear that “we do not intend to take away anyone’s home or
ask for their keys.”
But
Gabriel is still waiting for a meaningful signal beyond the pen of politeness
that seems to be Bennett’s métier. “We
don’t believe them. It’s evident in their actions what they’re doing to
Indigenous people. They're not sincere. People say they don’t like Donald Trump
because he is a bully, lacks morals and ethics, and defies the rule of law, but
that’s what we as Indigenous peoples have been up against since the creation of
the Indian Act. That is the kind of
people we face on a daily basis through Canadian ministers and bureaucrats.”
(An edited version of this article appears in NOW Magazine at https://nowtoronto.com/news/oka-crisis/)
