Nations divided rule disputed land

ANALYSIS: Ontario is negotiating with traditional chiefs who some natives believe have no control over protests in Caledonia. Just who leads the Six Nations standoff?

ALEX DOBROTA

Aug 14, 2006
Globe and Mail

On any given day, a mosaic of flags hangs over the native occupation in Caledonia, Ont. The Palestinian one flaps below a bright-red Mohawk Warrior flag. Venezuela's yellow, blue and red has been pinned to a wooden board. Farther down the barricaded road into the Douglas Creek Estates construction site, natives have hoisted the sickle-and-hammer standard of the former Soviet Union.

And above a downed hydro tower flies the Cross of St. George, flag of England, the country with whom the Six Nations concluded a treaty in 1784.

To the outsider driving past the site, this puzzling show of colour could be taken as an emblem of the underlying confusion that has come to characterize the protest itself. There is no hierarchical organization governing the occupiers, who form an amorphous mass that hails from reserves across North America.

Decisions are reached by consensus at gatherings of whoever happens to be on the site that day. But consensus can be long in the making, and the porous nature of the native lines means decisions are often ephemeral.

To the non-native observer this can seem chaotic; to government negotiators, it is downright exasperating.

“There's a constant dynamic inside the place; it's like a swirling cauldron,” said David Peterson, the former Ontario premier who negotiated the removal of the blockade of two main roads in Caledonia. “Nobody answers to anybody. They all answer to each other.”

The occupied construction site southwest of Hamilton is at the centre of a battle over land rights that started when members of the nearby Six Nations reserve set up barricades blocking the road into the development on Feb. 28. A court order evicting them has not been enforced. In June, the province bought out the developer for $12.3-million, and opened negotiations with the natives.

But the cultural divide between aboriginals and government officials makes talks long and tortuous, Mr. Peterson said.

The native decision-making process stems from the Great Peace brokered hundreds of years ago between (scholars don't agree on a date) five warring nations: the Mohawk, Oneida, Onondaga, Cayuga and Seneca. A sixth, the Tuscarora, joined that confederacy in the 18th century.

“No decisions are made until everybody more or less agrees,” Mr. Peterson said. “So it's very, very, very frustrating by our standards.”

Judging by the protesters' letters to the government, the occupation is carried out in the name of Six Nations clan mothers, who said the site had been wrongly taken from them by the Crown.

Traditionally, those 50 women — the oldest ones in every clan of each band that makes up the Six Nations — were the titleholders of the land. They also held the power to name and to demote chiefs.

That changed in 1924, when the federal government imposed an electoral system on the reserve. The influence of the traditional chiefs and of the clan mothers started to wane, as Canada wrote assistance cheques to the elected chief.

But now, Queen's Park and Ottawa have both agreed to negotiate with the traditional chiefs, who have sidelined the authority of elected Grand Chief David General.

And some sources on the reserve, including Mr. General, have said the clan mothers and the hereditary chiefs never had any control over the protest.

“Some of the clan mothers are just saying the occupation has served its purpose,” Mr. General said. The protesters, he said, “are not listening to anybody.”

The traditional chiefs do not take part in the regular gatherings at the site of the protest, said chief Allen MacNaughton, who leads the native negotiating team. Mr. MacNaughton refused to answer questions about the relationship between the protesters, the clan mothers and traditional chiefs such as him.

One source working on the reserve said many clans do not even have a clan mother or a chief.

“There's a lot of people who have walked away from the traditional style of government and have bought into the elected system,” the source said. “About 30 per cent of the reserve support the elected system, about 30 per cent support the traditional system. And there's a whole group in the middle that really don't care.”

Only about 20 of the 50 traditional chiefs attend gatherings, according to one of the chiefs, Arnold General. And clan mothers remain an elusive entity, even to the protesters.

“There are a few who may not be in full support of what we're doing,” said Janie Jamieson, a spokeswoman for the occupiers. “They've never stepped forward.”

If they do, some protesters on the ground said they will disobey.

“I told my clan mother the other night I'm not going to leave,” Doreen Silversmith told reporters last week. “I said: ‘I don't care if you tell us to go, nobody's going to leave.' “We're not giving up without a fight,” added Ms. Silversmith, clad in camouflage pants and wearing two feathers in her hair.

Then, she walked away from reporters. She returned after five minutes, accompanied by Ms. Jamieson, to retract her comments.

The Globe and Mail could not obtain an interview with a clan mother.

As for the flags flying over the occupied land, protesters said those are from groups that often visit the natives to show support.

Asked why the flag of England, a colonial power, flies over the barricades, Brian Sky, head of security for the natives, said: “Our alliance was with the King. That's one of the reasons.

“Someone from that country came and declared their support.”