The Dominion - Barriere Lake

Barriere Lake Stands Against Resolute

Tim McSorley — Wed, 18 Jul 2012 08:51:38 +0000

Algonquin community vows to block corporate logging on their territory

MONTREAL & RAPID LAKE—For two weeks now, members of the Algonquin community of Barriere Lake have been standing fast in their opposition to clearcut logging on their territory.

On July 2, 2012, residents of Barriere Lake, located four hours north of Montreal, noticed loggers from Resolute Forest Products (formerly known as Abitibi Bowater Inc.) on their territory. The presence of the loggers came as a shock, since no consultation process had been carried out with the community members who harvest from that land.

These logging operations are also surprising due to an ongoing moratorium on corporate-based logging of the Algonquin land. Since 1991, Algonquins of Barriere Lake (ABL) have been fighting for the provincial and federal governments to respect an agreement they signed that allows for co-management of the land and guarantees the community a say in the exploitation of resources on their land.

ABL members moved quickly to stop the logging.

Tim McSorley is an editor with The Dominion and a member of the Montreal Media Co-op (CMM). David Koch, a Montreal community radio journalist, and Neal Rockwell, a Montreal photographer and film-maker and CMM member, conducted the interviews included in this piece. Pei-Ju Wang, who provided the photos, is a photographer and member of IPSMO.

ABL camp

Resolute clearcutting in Barriere Lake

Confronting loggers

SQ presence to protect Resolute loggers

Quebec government not respecting ABL agreement

ABL show importance of this land

ABL camp continuing

ABL solidarity

Minister's Memo Exposes Motives for Removing Algonquin Chief

dru — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 16:05:43 +0000

INAC expected collaboration with new Chief but feared legal repercussions and perception of government sponsorship

MONTREAL–A secret document obtained by The Dominion reveals Indian and Northern Affairs Canada (INAC) decided to replace the leadership of Barriere Lake First Nation, which officials considered "dogmatized," with a chief and council offering “improved collaboration."

The memo sent to Indian Affairs Minister Chuck Strahl recommends recognizing leadership claimant Casey Ratt in place of Chief Benjamin Nottaway, but predicts such a move will lead to community violence, erection of barricades, legal challenges and "media pressure" based on the "perception of a council sponsored by INAC.”

Strahl signed off on the memo on March 3, 2008. In an April letter to the Ottawa Citizen he maintains that INAC was following the wishes of the community and was not "backing one group over another."

Ratt's ascent to power in the northern Quebec Algonquin community of 450 has been fiercely contested by Nottaway's supporters, who allege INAC ousted an assertive leadership and empowered a group that violated customary leadership protocols.

The Barriere Lake Algonquins select their leadership not by ballot, but by a strict Customary Governance Code that involves the nomination of candidates by elders and their approval in community assemblies. As Strahl states in his public letter, INAC's "role is to simply acknowledge the outcome and register the results."

But the Elder's Council in Barriere Lake quickly launched a judicial review of Strahl's move, arguing INAC went beyond their legal bounds in deciding who should be in power. In April, INAC motioned to dismiss the Elder's case, maintaining INAC did not make a “decision” reviewable by the courts.

The February 18 memo demonstrates that decisions were in fact made. Instead of carefully assessing whether a leadership selection conducted by Ratt's supporters in late January 2008 accorded with the Customary Governance Code, it focuses on the benefits and drawbacks of three possible INAC responses: recognizing Ratt, maintaining relations with Nottaway, or withdrawing recognition for Nottaway and mediating or imposing an electoral system on the community.

According to the memo, keeping ties with Nottaway would entail "continuity of tensed [sic] relations between INAC and the Band Council, considering its claims." For nearly two decades, Nottaway's supporters have been locked in a battle with INAC and Quebec over the implementation of a landmark Trilateral agreement that would give the First Nation say over resource use on 10,000 square kilometres of their traditional territory.

Despite Nottaway's council's "claim to its legitimacy," the memo expresses preference for a band council headed by Casey Ratt, detailing "positive impacts" that include “improved collaboration of the new council with INAC,” a “new council less dogmatized," and a "new environment more favourable to the development of the community" and a "healing process."

A 2006 attempt by Ratt’s supporters to select a chief and council was dismissed after mediation in 2007 by Quebec Superior Court Judge Réjean Paul, who called the group a “small minority” whose selection process “did not follow the Customary Governance Code." Over that year INAC withdrew recognition from Nottaway's customary predecessor, Chief Jean-Maurice Matchewan, until Judge Paul issued the report affirming his legitimacy.

The secret memo acknowledges Judge Paul’s "approach" and admits INAC "does not have all the information" regarding Ratt's recent selection, but states an independent observer "partly related the process' compliance with custom requirements."

When INAC cited this local court worker's report in a March 10 letter notifying Nottaway he was no longer Chief, officials refused to release it to the community. The Elder Council's lawyers obtained it through court months later and discovered that the observer had in fact stated he "couldn’t guarantee” Ratt had followed the Customary Governance Code.

The memo also dismisses taking advantage of the "shaky situation" in the community to impose an Indian Act election system, because its "major impacts" would require further analysis. Inside observers say such a move, which would unilaterally discard the community's customary selection by a Minister's order, could risk being deemed unconstitutional.

Strahl has come under fire recently after documents leaked to the Globe & Mail revealed that INAC secretly plans to revive the Liberals' First Nations Governance Act, which includes challenging "flawed" or "outdated" customary selections of First Nation leaders.

The memo mentions the possibility of “barricades” and suggests informing the Quebec police to "ensure the supervision of the community in the days following the announcement of the new Council." Community members tried to bar Ratt from returning to the reserve in March, dragging trees along the reserve's access road. Ratt required escort by police, who arrested a dozen people and maintained a heavy presence in the community for two weeks, preventing Nottaway's council from accessing any administrative buildings.

While these earlier incidents received little attention, Barriere Lake acquired a higher profile after Nottaway's supporters blockaded a major Quebec highway in October and November 2008, rallying to the demand that INAC implement the Trilateral Agreement and appoint an observer to witness and respect the outcome of a new leadership selection. Nottaway was arrested and jailed for two months in the winter for his participation, arousing condemnation of the Conservative government from Green Party leader Elizabeth May, the NDP, and major unions.

Ratt issued a press release after the blockades stating the former council "focused too much of their attention on the trilateral agreement" and that it was time the "First Nation moves forward." INAC pulled out of the agreement in 2001.

The secret memo was released by the Ministry of Justice on March 13, almost a year after a request filed by lawyers for the Elder's Council was initially denied because INAC maintained they had not made a “decision” about leadership.

Withholding the document, INAC won a dismissal of the Elder's Council judicial review in August but then lost an appeal before a federal court in January. The Judge concluded that a reviewable "decision" had been made and emphasized that the legal status of the Ratt Council remained uncertain, despite recognition from Strahl. After another request for documents, a privacy commissioner green-lighted the memo's release. The court case over leadership will proceed this summer.

Martin Lukacs is a writer and activist, and a member of the Barriere Lake solidarity collective in Montreal.

Secret Memo: Barriere Lake

Barriere Lake Arrests

Pain Compliance as Indigenous Relations

dru — Tue, 14 Oct 2008 18:54:07 +0000

Inside the Barriere Lake Algonquins' blockade of highway 117

I'm perched on an embankment overlooking Highway 117, an obscure but economically important link between Montreal and northern Quebec. To look at most maps, there's nothing here, five hours north of Montreal, well out of the cottage towns and ski resorts of the Laurentians and still two hours short of the cluster of resource extraction economies around Val d'Or (in English, Valley of Gold), where mining now focuses more on metals like copper, zinc and lead. I'm in the middle of a four hour stretch where most travellers could be forgiven for thinking was nothing but a few hunting lodges, logging roads and Hydro Quebec turnouts.

A girl, young enough that I have to bend down to hear what she's saying, climbs up the embankment and points at the highway.

"Look where we're colouring," she says.

I look. In the middle of the highway, a handful of kids--her age--are gathered around a card table, drawing on sheets of paper and colouring books with markers. Next to them, a dozen protesters hold signs, facing away from the kids' table. The signs say things like "no more pepper spray/arrests/batons," and "honour signed agreements."

Beyond the protesters, several trees lay across the road. A large banner reads "Honour your word," and "protect the environment, share the land's wealth."

Beyond the banner, a row of green-uniformed police officers spans the highway. They are slowly advancing.

As they get closer, the protesters begin yelling at the police.

"All we want is our agreement."

"Go home."

"Send in a negotiator."

The girl is standing beside me. "I'm scared," she says matter-of-factly.

The police advance slowly, advancing several steps, then stopping. Advancing again.

The line of police divides, leaving an opening. A column of perhaps fifty riot police emerges. They wear gas masks, oversized helmets in the Death Star style, and body armour under baggy uniforms. Each one carries a black baton. At times, some of them will hit their black-gloved hand with the baton, making what, to the person behind the mask, was probably a satisfying smack.

The police officer in charge issues a half-hearted warning over the cries of increasingly angry demonstrators.

"Leave the highway, or you will be arrested."

Seeing the masked troops, some run. I notice several children fleeing, but others stay, and more gather on the highway to protect the blockade. Elders and youth are the most abundant. I later realize that most of the adults cannot risk arrest because of conditions imposed on them after previous demonstrations.

The riot police silently line up on the far side of the highway, and begin pushing the demonstrators back. A crowd has gathered in front of the police, holding signs and yelling at the police. A scuffle breaks out, cops pulling protesters, protesters pulling their own away. An elder is arrested. I run on to the highway, trying to get a closer look.

Behind the colouring table, there is a row of concrete-filled barrels with PVC pipe running through them. A mix of Algonquin demonstrators and supporters from Ottawa and Montreal have attached their arms to these "lock boxes" with rope and carabiners in an attempt to forestall police breaking up the blockade. Next to them are tables and campfires, which a short time ago were used to serve bacon and eggs, and then beaver and moose, to those gathered at the blockade. Several people whose trips had been delayed by the blockade had joined in, drinking tea from pots warmed by small campfires, before police separated onlookers from blockade participants.

Seperated by a 100-metre buffer zone, the police could nonetheless be heard cracking jokes about "caisses de bieres," an eerie allusion to police transcripts revealed by the Ipperwash Inquiry, where police made racist jokes about Dudley George before they shot and killed him.

It also brought to mind the slur that made headlines a week before, when Algonquin spokesperson Norman Matchewan confronted regional Member of Parliament and cabinet Minister Lawrence Cannon. Speaking to Matchewan, Cannon's assistant said that negotiations could be conducted "if you're sober." She was caught on camera, and the "gaffe" was eventually reported coast to coast as one more example of a dangerous misstep by Harper's otherwise disciplined election campaign.

The onlookers were unable to see the sign advertising a ban on alcohol and drugs from the blockade, but that was a fraction of the gap between the Algonquins' understanding of the situation and those of the Quebeckers. It's a gap that is too often filled with racist assumptions before it can inspire curiosity.

I hear a loud pop. People scream, run away. Acrid white smoke billows from a canister launched by police, and I feel a familiar hollow sting in my throat and sinuses. My eyes burn, and well up, but I'm relatively unaffected. Elders, youth and kids around me are coughing and choking, tears streaming down faces. Another canister is launched. More running and tears. The police, apparently aware of existing negative connotations, will later deny that they used tear gas, preferring the term "chemical irritant".

A single CBC radio reporter maneuvres around tear gas and riot police, holding her microphone, looking stunned. The television cameras left an hour or so ago.

Immune to the effects of the gas, riot police rush to push people off the highway. The people in lock-boxes are still there, caught, for the moment, in the tear gas. One demonstrator stays behind to wipe their faces with water to lessen the effects. He will be tackled by three riot cops and arrested later.

Police move to shield the remaining blockaders from view, forming a human wall around the lock-boxes. Peering between riot police standing with batons at the ready, we can see an official (he's wearing a different uniform) giving orders. We see those locked in kicking or flailing in agony. We will later learn that police used "pain compliance" methods. We will hear from those who were locked in that the police pinched and pushed at pressure points, causing severe pain. We will hear that police told those locked in that by remaining, they were causing more pain to their comrades. We will hear that police used a crowbar to attempt to pry one blockader's arm loose. We will hear about sexual harassment. We will argue about whether or not "torture" is too strong a word to describe what the police did. We will decide that causing someone pain in order to convince them to do something they do not want to do does in fact qualify as torture, but that the media will not take us seriously if we use that word. An elder will say that "pain compliance" is a good description of the government's policies towards the Algonquins of Barriere Lake.

Barriere Lake is where we're headed now, though not voluntarily. Every few minutes, the assembled riot police rush forward, pushing the fifty or so demonstrators further up the access road that leads to Rapid Lake, the fifty-nine acre reserve that is, for the federal and provincial governments, the only officially recognized territory of the 500-member community of Barriere Lake, named for its traditional summer settlement at a nearby lake. The reserve was created in 1961.

Though they have lived here for thousands of years, the rest of the territory has been treated as terra nullius, empty land, and exploited accordingly. Hydro Quebec has built dams without consulting the community, in at least one case submerging a burial ground. Later, they improved their behaviour by notifying the community ahead of planned dam construction. The community was forced to move another burial ground to a nearby island.

Logging companies were allowed to clear the land with impunity, and with no benefit to the community. For years, community members peacefully blockaded logging roads, risking violence from loggers and violence from police.

Despite the presence of several Hydro Quebec dams, the community is still powered by a diesel generator. According to one estimate, $100 million in revenue is extracted from the Barriere Lake Algonquins' traditional territory every year. Of that $100 million, the community receives nothing, and employment opportunities are scarce.

Many of those at the blockade had been sent to residential schools as children. There, they were abused physically and sexually, and punished for speaking their mother tongue. The psychological legacy of this trauma has been compounded by the enforced austerity of the reserve, where unemployment, deep poverty and inadequate housing is the norm. Families sleep as many as 15 to a house, and many houses have fallen into disrepair.

Against this seemingly desperate backdrop, the community's resilience is impressive. Elders say that their connection to the land, which they see as intimately tied to their language, is alive and well. Community members hunt for food, rely on traditional knowledge to gather medicine and food, and are well acquainted with the land they still live on, despite the 59-acre boundary.

Their resilience extends to political dealings. After years of peaceful blockades of logging roads, the community signed the Trilateral Agreement with Canada and Quebec, a landmark resource-sharing agreement that was praised by the UN. One academic observer wrote that the agreement "constitutes a category of its own and is unmatched in its vision as well as in the problems its proponents have had to overcome."

"This Agreement was designed to address a situation, where a small aboriginal community, the Algonquins of Barriere Lake in La Verendrye Park, pursuing an essentially land-based way of life, saw themselves confronted with aggressive resource exploitation in their traditional use area..."

Cognizant that government policy does not recognize and accommodate aboriginal title to the land (at least, not in the current political climate), they came up with an innovative approach of curbing the logging, recreational hunting and damming that had taken place on their traditional territory while giving the community a say in where and when outside uses of the land would happen. The community spent considerable time and resources mapping out all of its traditional use areas, detailing their uses of the indigenous plant and animal life. The report advocates policies that "sustain and expand the environmental resource base," while enabling their traditional way of life to continue.

The first phase of the agreement was signed in 1991. Since then, the Federal and Provincial governments have done much to try to back out of it. Twice, they have played politics with divisions within the community, imposing minority faction Band governments against the customary leadership selection rules that Indian Affairs is supposed to uphold.

The last time they did that was in March. Under a Third Party Manager imposed by Indian Affairs in 2006, new staff were placed in schools, who punished children for speaking Algonquin. Peaceful blockades attempting to keep the imposed band chief off the reserve were met with pepper spray and arrests. Members of the last legitimately appointed chief and council and their supporters have faced systematic police harassment.

Since March, the Algonquins of Barriere Lake have demonstrated several times, always demanding the same things: that the government observe a leadership reselection process and acknowledge the result, and that the government uphold its obligations under the Trilateral Agreement. They have been to Ottawa several times. In one case, Algonquins and several supporters (I was among them) staged a sit-in in Lawrence Cannon's office.

Rather than promise to meet the demands or negotiate with the protesters, Cannon ordered police to remove us. Six were arrested.

Media coverage has been anemic. Officials have taken the cynical but effective tack of framing it as a complicated situation, with many competing interests and personalities. The truth of this is allowed to overshadow, if not block out completely, what is straightforward about the agreement, the community, and their desire to be able to continue their way of life and govern themselves with dignity. Faced with deadlines, journalists do the equivalent of throwing their hands in the air, allowing themselves to reduce Barriere Lake's conflict with the government to a "dispute" over "leadership". Racist assumptions do the heavy lifting, and the message becomes "Indians fighting over money."

A kid is in the back of a truck that's moving away from the advancing line of riot police. He's got a faux-gold-encrusted cap on that reads "millionaire." He sings the chorus of War's 1975 single:

"Why can't we be friends, why can't weee be friends."

The police are pushing us further up the access road that leads to the reserve. The Algonquins begin to react as if to an insult.

"What, are you going to walk with us all the way to Rapid Lake?"

"Are you going to trap us on that fifty-nine acres?"

"We'll keep coming back, we'll keep fighting."

The last protesters, isolated from hearing the yells of demonstrators, and made to feel excruciating pain with blankets over their heads, "clip out" from the lock-boxes, but we can no longer see them. The police have pushed us a few hundred metres back. Algonquins fall trees in the road and build fires to block their advance. The riot police step around the fires and keep coming.

It is past dark, five kilometres away from the highway, at the reserve. A former chief walks by.

"I guess we've got their answer, eh?"

He smiles as he says it.

Community members have gathered around a campfire. An elder addresses the non-native supporters.

"We're glad you came," she said.

"Now you see what they do to us."

Kids on the reserve are playing police-themed versions of childhood games. "I arrested you."

It's the next morning. The community is preparing a feast for the afternoon. Moose meat, fried bannock, fish caught between shifts at the blockade. An elder sits in his kitchen, fielding calls from the media. The coverage of the blockade and subsequent attack, initially minimal, has expanded to some of the national newspapers and radio. Countless organizations are hearing about Barriere Lake for the first time.

"We're going to keep fighting."

His tone makes it clear that there was never any doubt.

» Watch a Video of the events described here

» View more photos of the blockade

Kid with sign

Kids with Signs

Police attempt arrest

Criminalizing Indigenous Rights in Canada

david parker — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 03:47:53 +0000

Criminalizing Indigenous Rights in Canada
David Parker
September 8th, 2008.

HALIFAX - In September of 2007, the United Nations adopted the non-binding Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. Four high profile countries notably voted against the declaration - namely Canada, the United States, Australia and New Zealand.[1] All four countries are states that were established by white settlers on indigenous lands, and all four are currently in disputes with indigenous peoples over land and sovereignty.

The Canadian state, built on the theft and occupation of indigenous lands, continues to benefit from its unjustly acquired assets. Equipped with an ultra-security state apparatus, Canada's repressive and suppressive anti-terrorist and security measures have historically struck hardest against those that have the most to gain, namely aboriginal nations and their legitimate claims for their rights to land and dignity.

Recent cases of indigenous protest in Ontario have been in opposition to government authorized resource extraction on native lands. Despite legitimate demands for sovereignty and decision-making power over their traditional lands, native protesters have been incarcerated: Robert Lovelace and the KI-6 (6 council members of Kitchenuhmaykoosib Inninuwug First Nation) have received harsh fines and 6 months in jail for peacefully protesting against mineral exploration on the lands of KI and Ardoch Algonquin First Nation (AAFN).

Political Street Theatre at Indian Affairs

Courtney Kirkby — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 18:29:09 +0000

ABL_004.jpg

As the day dragged on, Algonquins of Barriere Lake community members and supporters moved north to Gatineau and performed political street theatre in front of the Department of Indian Affairs. The scene depicts Chief Norman orchestrating a coup d'etat on Michael Wernick's territory with help from an Ontario police officer.

*Photo taken by Charles Mostoller

Letter Delegation

Courtney Kirkby — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 18:27:03 +0000

ABL_003.jpg

A delegation including Louisa Ratt, Norman Matchewan, and some children from Barriere Lake delivered a letter to Michael's house. The package contained a press release from the event and a letter, addressed from Grand Chief Norman Young of the Tribal Council to Indian Affairs Minister, Chuck Strahl, calling for Indian Affairs to oversee and respect the outcome of a new leadership selection in Barriere Lake.

*Photos taken by Charles Mostoller

Algonquins of Barriere Lake hold up posters outside of Wernick's home

Courtney Kirkby — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 18:24:47 +0000

ABL_002.jpg

*Photo taken by Charles Mostoller

Media Ring

Courtney Kirkby — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 18:21:38 +0000

ABL_001.jpg

Norman Matchewan is interviewed by a ring of journalists outside of Michael Wernick's home.

*Photo taken by Charles Mostoller

Direct Action: Barriere Lake Algonquins Struggle for Justice

Courtney Kirkby — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 18:19:09 +0000

ABL_005_bw.jpg

On Friday, August 8th Barriere Lake community members and supporters gathered at Deputy Minister Michael Wernick's house. After appeals to their federal representative, Minister Lawrence Cannon, and protests at the offices of Indian Affairs were ignored, the community felt they were left with no choice.

*Photo taken by Charles Mostoller

The Coup in Context

dru — Mon, 11 Aug 2008 09:37:23 +0000

A look behind the removal of Barriere Lake's traditional government

The Algonquins of Barriere Lake continue efforts to get Indian Affairs and the Canadian government to uphold the law and recognize the community's customary governance code, as well as to respect the Trilateral Agreement.

Courtney Kirkby and Maya Rolbin-Ghanie are members of the Barriere Lake Solidarity Collective

#1 BLS - Geographical Location of Barriere Lake

#2 BLS - Housing Conditions

#3 BLS- Hydroelectric Dams

#4 BLS- Logging, Tourism

#5 BLS- Logging, Tourism

#6 BLS- Logging, Tourism

#7 BLS- Trilateral Agreement

#8 BLS- Scrapping the Agreement

#9 BLS- Leadership Interference

#10 BLS- Third Party Mismanagement

#11 BLS- Ousted Acting Chief Benjamin Nottaway

#12 BLS- Cannon Speaks With a Forked Tongue

#14 BLS- Demands

#15 BLS- Arrested While Waiting for Cannon to Obey the Law

#16 BLS- Keeping up the Pressure

Coup d'état in Indian Country

hillarybain — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 13:00:36 +0000

Community members say traditional leadership ousted by the Canadian government

Marylynn Pouchachiche thought the video camera her mother-in-law purchased with residential school compensation money was the perfect gift for building the family album.

But when a massive Quebec police force pepper-sprayed and billy clubbed their way through her small Algonquin community, enforcing the federal government's March 10 decision to oust the traditional Chief and Council and appoint a small faction as the leadership, she took on the new documentary subject with bitter irony.

"It's just another one of the government tactics we've had to face," said Pouchachie, while showing me film of the arrests of ten people, including her husband. The group was protesting the return of Casey Ratt, recognized by the Canadian government as the new Chief of Barriere Lake, despite their already having a Chief and Council in place.

The regime change has left the community of 450, located three hours north of Ottawa, in a political crisis. Pouchachie and others allege that the government is trying to can a co-management agreement Barriere Lake signed with Canada and Quebec nearly twenty years ago – and which has yet to be implemented. Under the agreement, Barriere Lake would gain a decisive say in the management of their traditional territories, benefit from the forestry industry, and preserve their traditional way of life.

Pierre Nepton, the Associate Director of the Regional Office of Indian Affairs, emphasized that the government did not intervene.

Unlike most other reservations, which are mandated under the Indian Act to select leadership through elections, Barriere Lake’s leadership is selected through customary laws. In January, Pouchachie says a small faction of community members organized a separate leadership selection process and then sought recognition from the government.

“We were satisfied by their leadership process, and we recognized the [new] council,” said Nepton. “I want to emphasize that the decision was made by the community.”

But ousted Customary Chief Benjamin Nottaway, who maintains the majority of the community does not support the new Chief, believes Nepton has other motivations for recognizing the new leadership.

"We think the two groups [department of Indian Affairs and the small faction] are collaborating," he said. "The two sides want to cut a new deal for programs and services that ignores the previous agreements we've signed."

The “trailblazing” agreement

In 1961, a priest and the Quebec government negotiated Barriere Lake's 59-acre reservation, which rests on badly eroded sand near a reservoir that flooded the land decades earlier.

In the 1980s, unrestrained clear-cut logging and the depletion of game stock within Quebec's La Vérendrye Provincial Park – a park that covers part of the Algonquin’s traditional territories - threatened the harvesting lines where Barriere Lake community members continue to hunt and trap.

Their initial protests were ignored, but after blockading logging roads under the leadership of their Customary Chief Jean-Maurice Matchewan, Canada and Quebec signed the Trilateral Agreement in 1991.

The Trilaterial Agreement is a forestry co-management and sustainable development plan for 10,000 square kilometres of the Algonquin’s traditional territories, praised by the United Nations as a "trailblazer" and recommended by the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples as a model for resolving resource conflicts.

Just before the Trilateral's implementation in 2001, however, Indian Affairs Minister Robert Nault pulled out. Nault said the process had dragged on for too long and cost too much.

The regional economy draws $100 million annually through logging, hydro-electricity, and tourism from the surrounding land, but the Algonquin, who live in mouldy, overcrowded housing without electricity from the hydro-grid, have yet to receive a cent.

Disputed leadership

The lack of progress on the agreement has fueled increasingly acrimonious divisions over leadership.

"I'm trying to pick up after the former council," said new chief Casey Ratt, who has already started negotiating an infrastructure plan with Indian Affairs officials. "They [the protesters] were trying to shut down everything, so they could play the victim card."

Michel Thusky, a community elder, says minor infrastructure deals only offer quick fixes and won't ensure long-term development suited to the community’s needs.

"[The new council] is clueless, and they're being used," he said. "It's not Indian Affairs programs and services that are going to preserve and sustain our culture, language, and connection to the land."

Community members say the federal and provincial governments never liked the Trilateral Agreement. If implemented, it would establish long-term measures to protect their harvest lines and areas of medicinal and spiritual importance from logging, conserve wildlife, give them a share in resource-revenue, and not require them to extinguish their Aboriginal title, precedents that other native communities in Quebec and across Canada might like to follow.

Background to a coup

During the Trilateral Agreement's first phase, which provided research funding and interim measures to harmonize logging with Algonquin land uses, Quebec and Ottawa dragged their heels. "It is David and not Goliath who is attempting to sustain the agreement," Quebec Superior Court Judge Rheajan Paul wrote during mediation in 1993. "If one wants [the agreement] to die, one only has to shut off the funding tap."

In 1996, after resuming funding, the Department of Indian Affairs changed tactics. They rescinded recognition of the Customary Chief and Council and appointed a small faction, keen on getting a piece of the logging action, as an "Interim Band Council."

Never subject to the Indian Act's electoral band council system, Barriere Lake's hereditary Chiefs and Councillors are nominated by an Elder's Council and selected in community assemblies. The community assemblies are open only to Barriere Lake adults who live on the traditional territories and maintain a connection to the land. But after the faction submitted a signed petition, Indian Affairs claimed the community's leadership customs had evolved into "selection by petition."

This Indian Affairs-supported leadership was rejected by the community, and forced to rule as a "government-in-exile" from Maniwaki, a town 150 kilometres to the south. Through 1996, the group received millions from Indian Affairs while community members in Barriere Lake were deprived of funding for employment, social assistance, electricity and schooling for more than a year.

"The whole community got together, and survived on the traditional territory," said Thusky, who worries that scenario might be repeated, with a few new twists. "It was the same players then, but we didn't have the SQ [Quebec Provincial Police] to deal with, so we managed to keep the government-supported band council away."

After mediation in 1997 restored the Customary Chief and Council, and Indian Affairs agreed to restore the withheld funding, the community codified their traditional laws into a 'Customary Governance Code.' Superior Court Judge Paul concluded that their customs had not changed, and judicial review later revealed that Indian Affairs had instructed the small group to submit the petition.

Same old government tricks

Community members now believe Indian Affairs is up to its old tricks. In 2006, Jean Maurice Matchewan was re-elected Customary Chief, but a small faction ran a parallel leadership selection, claiming to have adhered to the Customary Governance Code. Indian Affairs refused to recognize Matchewan, and then put the community under Third Party Management – which mandates that an external consultant unilaterally run the community's finances and funding – claiming it was justified by Barriere Lake's large deficit and leadership uncertainty.

The Customary Elder's Council immediately challenged the decision in federal court, arguing the deficit issues could be cleared up if the money owed to Barriere Lake from the 1996 funding deprivation had been repaid as promised.

But in the yearly funding budget, negotiated by the Third Party Manager and Indian Affairs in 2007, the money owed by the government was simply struck from the record.

Associate Director Nepton refused to comment on the matter.

Superior Court Judge Paul confirmed the legitimacy of Matchewan's council in leadership mediation in spring 2007, calling the challengers a "small minority" who "did not respect the Customary Governance Code."

New chief Casey Ratt insists he has majority support this time, but has refused to enter a leadership re-selection process demanded by the Elder's Council to settle the leadership division.

Indian Affairs says it plans to take the new council off Third Party Management, something the previous leadership say was never offered to them. The new council has also indicated it wants to quash the court case challenging the federal government for unfairly imposing Third Party Management and for breaching the Trilateral Agreement.

Meanwhile, Quebec has sat for a year-and-a-half on the recommendations for its Trilateral obligations – including implementation of the co-management regime and a $1.5 million yearly share in resource revenue. But even with Quebec's agreement, the Trilateral could only go ahead with federal co-operation.

Marylynn Pouchachie says the last weeks have taken a toll on everyone, including children, who have acted out the leadership rivalry with name-calling. "I think the government has us where they want us, fighting with each other and forgetting about the real issues," she said. "And they can then keep exploiting our land and renegotiate the outstanding issues on their terms."

Police In Barriere Lake

Barriere Lake Protest