Poundmaker's lesson

A dramatic standoff at a First Nations reserve in Saskatchewan 124 years ago offers lessons for native policy in our own age

Peter Shawn Taylor, National Post Published: Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Anyone frustrated by the current state of native-police relations in Canada -- in Caledonia, Ont., or any other recent flashpoint -- might wish to cast their mind back to June, 1884. At the Poundmaker Reserve near Battle River, Sask., a volatile confrontation between thousands of natives and a handful of North West Mounted Police produced one of the most dramatic, if little known, scenes in Canadian policing history. At a time and place where violence and mayhem lay on a knife's edge, the best solution lay in a calm, determined yet undeniably brave application of the law. This is how good governance came to the open Prairies. There is no reason it can't work today.

On June 18, 1884, Kahweechetwaymot (or, He Speaks Our Language) showed up at the government warehouse near Battle River to demand food for a sick child. John Craig, the resident farm instructor, rudely refused him. Farm instructors were federal employees who taught agriculture to natives on reserves following the demise of the buffalo. They also had medical and food supplies for emergency situations. While Craig was within his rights to deny the aid, since Kahweechetwaymot was not a member of the local band, by all accounts Craig's temperament was ill-suited to congenial native relations. Kahweechetwaymot responded to Craig's refusal by beating him with an axe handle.

Superintendent Leif Crozier of the North West Mounted Police, the precursor to today's Mounties, dispatched Corporal Ralph Sleigh and five men to bring in the offender. On arrival, Sleigh found a massive thirst dance in progress, involving perhaps 2,000 natives. Thirst dances, like the better known sun dances of the American West, were complicated religious rituals in which young men pierced their chests with bones to prove themselves as full-fledged warriors. They also served as a kind of annual meeting of Prairie chiefs. Sleigh asked the assembled chiefs to hand over Kahweechetwaymot. They declined. He decided discretion was the better part of valour, and left.

Crozier arrived a few days later, as the thirst dance was ending. He again demanded the accused. This time Big Bear and Poundmaker, two of the most prominent Cree chiefs of the day, offered themselves instead. Crozier said no, and fortified a nearby warehouse for the night.

The next day, with his 85 men resplendent in their scarlet uniforms, Crozier once more marched to the native camp. "Poundmaker, I came out for this man and I am going to take him," he stated firmly. Poundmaker replied: "He won't be given up. Take me first --if you dare!" He raised his fearsome knife-edged war club over his head. A Mountie then levelled his carbine at Poundmaker. Instantly, the entire gathering descended into chaos. "Screams, war whoops, the falsetto ululation of war cries rang over the hills," writes Rudy Wiebe in his recent biography of Big Bear. "The hill was a swirl of painted faces and rifles and uniforms." With the Mounties outnumbered more than 20 to 1, the entire scene hung on the precipice of bloodshed.

At the peak of this tension, Kahweechetwaymot was spotted amongst the seething native crowd. A few brave Mounties quickly plunged into the bedlam and grabbed him by his hair. Horse-mounted police then closed around this small group to guide them to safety. The natives surrounded the small knot of police, pressing so tight several Mounties had weapons ripped from their hands. One was stripped of his tunic.

Throughout it all Big Bear repeatedly urged his warriors to show restraint. "Wait! Stop!" Wiebe has him saying. The two sides gradually separated and the police inched their way backwards to the makeshift fort, prisoner in tow.

Later that night, after tossing flour and bacon outside the fort to assuage the crowd, the police returned to Battleford. Kahweechetwaymot was tried and sentenced to a week in jail for his attack on Craig. The law had prevailed. And not a single person was injured.

A casual observer today might think Crozier took a rather large risk for a crime only worth a week's detention. But the real lesson is precisely the opposite: A lawful society requires that crimes not be ignored. Challenges to legal authority must be met with appropriate responses, regardless of the perpetrator or situation. The alternative is chaos.

And yet across the country it has become distressingly apparent that crimes committed by native groups are not treated as normal law-breakingings. The violent occupation of a housing development in Caledonia is one case in point. In Quebec, the Mohawk reserve at Kahnawake is home to one of the largest online gambling hubs in the world, entirely unsanctioned by the federal or provincial government. Illegal cigarette manufacturing is rampant around many reserves. And various blockades of highways and rail lines in recent years by native groups upset over land claims have largely gone unpunished.

The general apathy toward enforcing the law stems from a fear that someone--native or white -- could die if the police confronted massed native protests head-on. No one wants another Ipperwash or Oka.

But then again, no one died at Poundmaker Reserve, despite a far more dangerous backdrop. We should learn the lessons from that incident:

First, a crime was alleged and dealt with promptly. Crozier made it clear he would not turn a blind eye to minor assaults, because cracking down on small crimes discourages larger ones.

Second, it may not always be practical to enforce the law immediately. What's important is that everyone recognizes the inevitability of the law.

Third, the law must be fair and inclusive. Kahweechetwaymot got a fair trial and a sentence that seems commensurate with his crime. To ensure fairness, Crozier actually returned to the reserve three days after the incident to ask for native witnesses. "I ... explained to the Indians that anyone of them was at liberty to come in and give evidence on behalf of the prisoner," he wrote in his monthly report. Justice dispensed in such impartial fashion reinforces everyone's faith in the system.

Finally, native leadership can play an important role in avoiding violence. Big Bear's peaceful efforts at the 1884 standoff were crucial to a non-violent resolution. He made it well known he was in favour of negotiation and disapproved of confrontation.

Students of Canadian history will know that it was crucial to Louis Riel's plans for his 1885 uprising that local natives join him in fighting the Canadian government. But this never happened. Most natives stayed neutral. Crucially, neither Big Bear nor Poundmaker threw their weight behind the Metis leader's rebellion. Why? Because they had seen the law of Canada applied first-hand. They knew it was firm, but that it was also fair.

If only we could manage the same thing today.

-Peter Shawn Taylor is editor-at-large of Maclean's magazine.