Canada: Indigenous Peoples Protect their Land and Rights

A victory for the Tsilhqot’in people in Canada shows the power of small grants.

In the early months of 2010, the government of British Columbia approved a proposal to turn Fish Lake into a dump for mine tailings. It was a devastating decision for the Tsilhqot’in people, who have used the lake for fish, water, and ceremonial purposes for centuries. However, with the help of small grants, this small group of indigenous Canadians put up an unexpected resistance; they fought the decision, forcing it to the federal level.

Supported in part by Global Greengrants Fund and Canada’s Small Change Fund, the film Blue Gold: The Tsilhqot’in Fight for Teztan Biny was an important part of this fight.

Check out Blue Gold: The Tsilhqot’in Fight for Teztan Biny (Fish Lake) from Susan Smitten on Vimeo.

For its producers, Respecting Aboriginal Values and Environmental Needs (R.A.V.E.N.), the film took shape as the Tsilhqot’in testimony on behalf of their lake and their lands. As such, it opened hearings before an independent federal environmental review panel in April.

The hearings ultimately determined the proposal would have “significant adverse effects” in a number of areas, including the environment, grizzly habitat, navigable waters, and the Tsilhqot’in people and culture. In the 20 years of the Canadian Environmental Assessment Act, this was only the third panel to find against the projects they’ve reviewed. Finally, on November 2nd, 2010 and in concordance with the review panel’s findings, the Canadian federal government sided with the Tsilhqot’in and vetoed the mining proposal.

“Though we will never know exactly how it affected the [review panel], people in the room when the film was screened said its impact on the panel members and the general public was palpable,” said R.A.V.E.N.’s Executive Director Susan Smitten, the director of the film.

The Struggle Against Industry: An Uphill Battle for Native Peoples

Before the federal hearing, Taseko Mining’s “Prosperity” gold mine looked like it was going to become a reality. It had been approved by the provincial British Columbia government in January of 2010 and was broadly publicized as an economic catalyst for the region. History appeared to be repeating itself, as government once again sided with industry, turning a blind eye to environmental impacts and native rights.

However, the Tsilhqot’in people were prepared to defend their rights, as they have done for the past century and a half. Inhabiting one of British Columbia’s most remote areas, the Tsilhqot’in fought off British road builders who wanted access to gold in 1864. Then, in 1970s, roads came again, this time, with logging interests. Chainsaws and machinery were the threat, and the Tsilhqot’in fought it by blockading bridges, setting off a court case in which they were granted rights and title to certain lands. Since then, the Tsilhqot’ins’ sovereignty has enabled them to maintain a traditional lifestyle: they have rejected measures to bring electricity into the region, and they actively teach the Tsilhqot’in language to their children.

It is not possible for us to agree to the destruction of the land that sustains us.

~ Chief Marilyn Baptiste, Xeni Gwet’in First Nation.

Such policies have enabled the Tsilhqot’in to defend their culture. In the case of Taseko’s claims to the land, though, they have also presented difficulties.  How could a people so isolated from mainstream Canadian media and culture possibly communicate their values to those in positions of power? Could they articulate their connection to the lake in a way that would outweigh public pressure for economic growth?

These are questions asked by marginalized communities across the world, and they are questions to which the Tsilhqot’in, with the help of R.A.V.E.N. found an answer: film.

The Power of New Technologies and New Media: A Victory for the Tsilhqot’in

In the months following the provincial government’s decision, R.A.V.E.N. began its work on Blue Gold, finishing the film just in time for the federal review panel. Then, with the help of social media and savvy publicity, the film began to represent something more. R.A.V.E.N. hosted a screening in Victoria, and later in Ontario; internet views of the film steadily increased. Then, traditional media picked up clips, and Smitten was surprised to see screenshots—and even entire segments—of the film on national evening news. People across Canada began to get involved.

For Smitten, film enabled a traditionally stoic people to speak their connection to the land in a way that would have been extremely challenging for them in front of a courtroom of onlookers.  “Standing in front of the lake, on their own lands, the Tsilhqot’in were able to express what they felt.”

In the closing shot of the film, a Tsilhqot’in man looks out into the gray blue sky. In front of him is the country of his ancestors, its mountains, forests, and lakes stretching into the distance. More than words, it is the man’s sad, expansive gaze that speaks his connection to this region, and his fear for its future.

The shot is a closing realization of the Tsilhqot’in a voice, a voice that was able to fight, and win, against corporate interests.