Introduction. The right of taking fish and of whaling or sealing at usual and accustomed
The right of taking fish and of whaling or sealing at usual and accustomed grounds and stations is further secured to said Indians. Treaty with the Makah, 18551 On May 17, 1999, several members of the Makah Nation, a small tribe inhabiting lands near the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State, conducted the first legal killing of a gray whale in over seventy-five years. Whaling had been prohibited on the Northwest Coast since the early part of the twentieth century because global commercial whaling had driven the gray whale population nearly to extinction. The United States banned all hunting of the gray whale in 1937. The Makah had voluntarily stopped hunting gray whales in the 1920s because “whaling had begun to lose its social prestige and subsistence importance as the tribes were pulled into the global market economy.”2 After the successful hunt, as excited Makah feasted on the blubber and raw meat from the thirty-ton, thirty-and-one-half-foot-long female whale, tribal leaders expressed pride in the resurrection of their nation’s seafaring tradition, a tradition reserved by the Makah in their land cession treaty with the United States in 1855. As Ben Johnson Jr., chairman of the tribe’s council, put it: “It’s a great day, a historic day for the Makah, but there are a lot of other hurdles we still have to jump over, many things to work on.”3 The Makah, in fact, are the only indigenous nation that expressly reserved the right to whale in a treaty agreement with the federal government. One of the major hurdles for the Makah centered on how the tribe intended to cope with the firestorm of anger, resentment, and oftentimes racist discourse the hunt aroused among many non-Indians, particularly environmental groups. Protestors fit into three categories: those distraught by the whale killing, those who disapproved of how the whale was killed (the Makah used steel harpoons and a shot from a.50 caliber assault rifle), and those who exhibited a deep resentment, even hatred, toward the Makah in particular and Indians in general. Protestors rained death threats and bomb threats on the Makah, and radio stations, newsletters, editorial pages, and Internet chat rooms carried anti-Indian statements that outnumbered statements supporting the Makah by a ten to one margin. Comments like, “Save a whale, harpoon a Makah,” and “shoot an Indian, bomb them, harpoon them,” were rampant. All of this despite the fact that the Clinton administration supported the Makah’s treaty right to whale, that the gray whale was no longer an endangered species (worldwide nearly two thousand gray whales are killed annually by hunters from a dozen countries), and that the International Whaling Commission had twice given its support to the Makah to harvest for subsistence purposes up to twenty whales between 1998–2002 and 2003–2007. Despite the initial protests, the Makah refused at first to be stifled in exercising one of their most culturally significant rites. As Wayne Johnson, the captain of the whaling team, said, “Some people have criticized us for this celebration [standing on the whale and raising their paddles and weapons in a triumphant manner], saying that it should have been a somber event and that 2 INTRODUCTION Makah Indians paddle their thirty-two-foot canoe Hummingbird into the open waters of the Pacific Ocean during a practice on August 20, 1998, in Neah Bay, Washington. The Makah tribe legally hunted and killed its first gray whale in over seventy-five years on May 17, 1999. They have since been denied the opportunity to continue their tradition by the federal courts. Photo courtesy of AP/World Wide Photos. we should have mourned the whale in the way they imagine to be proper. I am so tired of non-Indians pushing their values on the Makah people and telling us how and how not to be Makah.”5 However, the firestorm unleashed in the non-Indian community by the Makah’s exercise of their cultural and treaty right would not subside, and in less than a year the first of a series of legal setbacks in 2000,6 2002,7 2003,8 and 20049 against the Makah arrived, fueled by the antipathy of an alliance of environmental and animal advocacy groups with the support of some congresspersons. The most damaging ruling occurred in 2002, where the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals held that the federal government had violated the National Environmental Policy Act by having failed to prepare an environmental impact statement prior to approving the Makah’s whaling quota. The court also noted that the 1972 Marine Mammal Protection Act, which prohibits anyone in the United States from harming gray whales or other sea mammals, also applied to the Makah’s whale hunt. As a result of this and the other decisions, the Makah have been stymied in their efforts to pursue another whale. In 2003 the tribal government drastically reduced their whaling budget and terminated the tribe’s whaling commission. Tribal leaders and members are deeply frustrated that their treaty right is being denied. But they continue to explore their options, including an administrative waiver and pursuit of an even more remote possibility—a federal law that would acknowledge their right to hunt gray whales. Michael Lawrence, the Makah’s vice-chair in 2003, reflecting on the court’s rulings and the history of Indian treaty fragility and frequent abrogation of treaty rights, observed that “this isn’t the end for us. We are going to continue to protect our treaty rights.”10 In carrying out its treaty obligations with the Indian tribes, the Government is something more than a mere contracting party. Under a humane and self-imposed policy which has found expression in many acts of Congress, and numerous decisions of this Court, it has charged itself with moral obligations of the highest responsibility and trust. Its conduct... should therefore be judged by the most exacting fiduciary standards.11 I have never seen more egregious misconduct by the federal government. In my own experience, government lawyers always strived to set the example by following the highest ethical standards that were then a model for the rest of the legal profession.... Justice has not been done to these Indian beneficiaries. Moreover, justice delayed is justice denied. The Court cannot tolerate more empty promises to these Indian plaintiffs.12 These statements center on the historically rooted trust relationship that dates back to fifteenth century Europe, but saw its earliest expression in the INTRODUCTION 3 United States during the formative years of the republic, when policymakers were pledged to carry out treaty obligations made to tribes but also assumed a protectorate role for tribal peoples, their lands, and their resources. By the late nineteenth century Congress began to enact more forcefully and unilaterally various policies, like the General Allotment Act of 1887, that aimed to absorb Indians into American society by individualizing and then patenting Indian lands into parcels of 160, 80, and 40 acres. Since federal policymakers by this time perceived Indians and tribes as incompetent to manage their own affairs or resources, the federal government, acting more like a guardian of the now ward-like tribes, took complete charge of the Indians’ lands and resources. Typically, the Department of the Interior, the lead trust agent, leased the Indian allotments to oil, gas, timber, grazing, and mining interests for a small fee. The income generated from these leases was then processed by the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) and then deposited in the U.S. Treasury, where checks were then supposed to be sent to the Indians and tribal nations holding interests in trust resources.13 However, Indians have never received all the money due to them for lands sold to the United States and from various lease arrangements made by the federal government, despite constant Indian complaints and numerous investigations. As John Echohawk, executive director of the Native American Rights Fund, who led the class-action lawsuit filed in 1996 on behalf of over 500,000 individual trust beneficiaries, stated, “The BIA has spent more than 100 years mismanaging, diverting and losing money that belongs to Indians.”14 The Indian trust funds have two major components: tribal trust funds (TTF) and individual Indian money accounts (IIM). There are some two thousand tribal accounts owned by about two hundred tribes worth nearly 2.3 billion dollars. This money includes lease revenues, royalties, and court settlements. The accounts vary widely, with some worth only a few dollars, while others, like the Sioux Black Hills court award (based on the federal government’s taking of the Black Hills in South Dakota), are valued at over $400 million. Individually, there are over 500,000 IIM accounts into which passes nearly $300 million annually from the leaseholders. The aggregate annual balance of the IIM accounts is nearly one-half billion dollars.15 Untold billions have flowed through both accounts since the 1880s, and neither individual Indians nor tribal governments have ever received a thorough accounting of their monies. In fact, the Indian plaintiffs assert that they have lost upwards of $137.5 billion since 1887. Paul Homan was appointed as special trustee for American Indians in 1994 in the wake of the American Indian Trust Management Act of that year. He was charged with remedying the government’s mismanagement of Indian trust accounts. Homan, who had a wealth of experience in trust management and with failing financial institutions, engaged in a thorough investigation of the BIA’s accounting system and found that “the record-keeping system [for the IIM accounts] is the worst that I have seen in my entire life.”16 4 INTRODUCTION In particular, Homan found that there was $2.4 billion (32,319 transactions) for which no documents could be located; there was about $694 million in unreconciled disbursements; there were 54,921 IIM accounts totaling $44.9 million for individuals with no address or an incorrect address; and there were 15,230 IIM accounts worth $21.8 million for individuals who were formerly minors, the majority of which should have been disbursed when the minors came of age. It was also discovered that the government could not even account for fifty thousand of the active trusts. One estimate says that the government’s efforts to pay out lost money to IIM account holders could reach as high as $10 billion.17 Because the Department of the Interior failed to assist the special trustee and because Congress failed to allocate adequate funds to implement the 1994 Reform Act, the Native American Rights Funds (NARF) filed a classaction lawsuit on behalf of the IIM holders on January 10, 1996, against Secretary Babbitt and Secretary of the Treasury Robert Rubin. NARF sought to force the Interior Department to carry out its duties and obligations as trustee regarding the IIM accounts. Such obligations included maintaining an accounting system that is reliable and accurate, investing the accounts wisely, and reporting to the beneficiaries in a timely fashion. When the federal government said that it would respond by producing all documents requested, but then refused to do so, U.S. District Court judge Royce C. Lamberth, of the District Court of Columbia, in February 1999 held then Secretaries Babbitt and Rubin and Kevin Gover, assistant secretary of the interior, in civil contempt of court. This was the first time two cabinet officers had been held in contempt simultaneously. Eloise Cobell, a Blackfeet Indian and the chief plaintiff in the lawsuit, stated that “I think this is the beginning of justice for the victims who have had years and years of abuse at the hands of the U.S. Government.”18 On December 22, 1999, Judge Lamberth issued what he called a “stunning victory” for the Indians, when he ruled that the government had indeed violated its duty to safeguard the Indians’ trust accounts. He said the federal government had engaged in “fiscal and governmental irresponsibility in its purest form.” But rather than seek an independent body to rectify the problems, which the NARF and Homan had requested, the judge simply ordered the Interior and Treasury Departments to correct the situation. He gave the federal officials five years to repair the massive accounting problems and said he would personally oversee the government’s efforts.19 A federal appeals court upheld Lamberth’s decision in a unanimous ruling on February 23, 2001. Despite this string of early litigative victories, the individual Indian plaintiffs in what was termed in 2003 as “probably the most important issue on the secretary’s [Gale Norton, who replaced Bruce Babbitt] docket,” the Native American Rights Fund and Judge Lamberth are still fighting the BIA and the Department of Interior over how best to resolve this long-standing conflict. In December 2001, Judge Lamberth, fearing that the Interior Department’s INTRODUCTION 5 accounting system that handles Indian monies could be vulnerable to computer hacking, took the unusual step of ordering the shutdown of virtually all the department’s computer communications, including e-mail, web service to national parks, and payments to almost 40,000 Indians. Some of the department’s computer web service was restored within a few months, but much of the Bureau of Indian Affairs’ website is still offline as of September 2005, which means that the department has not yet convinced Judge Lamberth that these sites are safe from hackers. As the litigation continued, Mr. Alan Balaran, who had been appointed in 1999 by Judge Lamberth to investigate the financial situation of the Indian trust fund, abruptly resigned his position in April 2004. In his resignation letter to Lamberth, Balaran accused the department of a persistent effort to block his work and said he had found a “systemic failure to properly monitor” the activities of the various energy companies that routinely underpaid Indians on royalties from oil, gas, timber, and other leases.20 The department, for its part, accused Mr. Balaran of “concocting preposterous charges of a government conspiring against him” and denied Balaran’s charges that it had “destroyed valuable trust information.”21 In the latest ruling in this decade-old lawsuit, Judge Lamberth on July 12, 2005, issued a devastating rebuke of the federal government, and particularly, the Department of Interior’s treatment of American Indians and the Indian plaintiffs. In Cobell v. Norton,22 Lamberth ordered the Interior to include a notice containing information about this litigation to the entire plaintiff class of 500,000 Indians. The notice was to serve as a warning to the Indians that the government’s information may not be credible. But Lamberth also took this as an opportunity to graphically express his views about the disrespectful manner in which the government had and, in his opinion, continues to treat Native people, their resources, and their monies: But when one strips away the convoluted statutes, the technical legal complexities, the elaborate collateral proceedings, and the layers upon layers of interrelated orders and opinions from this Court and the Court of Appeals, what remains is the raw, shocking, humiliating truth at the bottom: After all these years, our government still treats Native American Indians as if they were somehow less than deserving of the respect that should be afforded to everyone in a society where all people are supposed to be equal. For those harboring hope that the stories of murder, dispossession, forced marches, assimilationist policy programs, and other incidents of cultural genocide against the Indians are merely the echoes of a horrible, bigoted government-past that has been sanitized by the good deeds of more recent history, this case serves as an appalling reminder of the evils that result when large numbers of the politically powerless are placed at the mercy of institutions engendered and controlled by a politically powerful few. It reminds us that even today our great democratic enterprise remains unfinished. And it reminds us, finally, that the terrible power of gov- 6 INTRODUCTION ernment, and the frailty of the restraints on the exercise of that power, are never fully revealed until government turns against the people.23 Lamberth concluded his opinion on a depressing note as he sought to discern reasons why the department had been unwilling to rectify its palpable errors in dealing with the Indian trust beneficiaries. He speculated aloud whether it was because Interior’s employees were either evil, apathetic, or even cowardly. “Perhaps,” he said, “Interior as an institution is so badly broken that even the most well-intentioned initiatives are polluted and warped by the processes of implementation.” Or perhaps, “the Indians were doomed the moment the first European set foot on American soil. Who can say? It may be that the opacity of the cause renders the Indian trust problem insoluble.”24 As this decision was reverberating, Elouise Cobell wrote an op-ed column in Indian Country Today in which she discussed her and her co-plaintiffs’ willingness to settle the lawsuit for $27.5 billion by seeking congressional action, as had been previously suggested by some federal lawmakers. As she noted, “too many Indians have died since the lawsuit was filed in 1996, and too many will die before the courts can resolve all the issues in the case.”25 Within a week of floating this proposal, Ross Swimmer (Cherokee), the Interior Department’s special trustee for American Indians and a former assistant secretary of Indian affairs, fired off a contrary response by declaring that the proposed $27.5 billion settlement suggestion was far too large and that a “resolution to this case should be based upon facts, and the facts do not support Cobell’s statements.”26 The battle wages on. The pivotal issue of Kennewick is not about religion or science. It is about politics. The dispute is about control and power, not philosophy. Who gets to control ancient American history—governmental agencies, the academic community, or modern Indian peoples?27 In 1996 several college students stumbled upon the skeletal remains of what appeared to be an ancient individual—with an arrowhead lodged in one hip—on the banks of the Columbia River in Washington State. Soon thereafter this discovery was shared with a local salvage archaeologist, James Chatters, who, after an initial examination, claimed that carbon dating showed the remains to be between 9,200–9,500 years old. More interesting, Chatters suggested that the skull of the person was more “Caucasoid-like” than Paleo-Indian. In fact, one early and very problematic forensic reconstruction of the skull had the individual, dubbed the “Ancient One” by tribal nations in the area, and “Kennewick Man” by the scientific community, resembling Patrick Stewart, the actor who played the captain of the television series, “Star Trek: INTRODUCTION 7 The Next Generation.”28 However, Vine Deloria Jr. a leading Native scholar, compared the reconstructed skull to a nineteenth century painting of Chief Black Hawk and his son. As theories began to swirl about the skeleton—Caucasoid, Paleo-Indian, Ainu (indigenous people of Japan), Asatruan (descendants of an ancient Nordic sect)—the Army Corps of Engineers, with the support of the Interior Department, and following the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) of 1990, said it intended to repatriate the bones to five northwestern tribes: Yakama, Nez Perce, Wanapum, Colville, and Umatilla, for reinterment. But the Army Corps’ decision was immediately challenged by Washington’s congressional delegation and a group of prominent scientists who sued to gain access to the remains. Armand Minthorn, a Umatilla leader, responded critically to what the scientists sought: “Our oral history goes back 10,000 years. We know how time began and how Indian people were created. They can say whatever they want, the scientists. They are being disrespectful.”29 In 2002 a federal judge ruled in favor of the scientists and held that the remains must be turned over for study. Judge Jelderks declared that there was little evidence to support the idea that “the Ancient One is related to any identifiable group or culture and the culture to which he belonged may have died out thousands of years ago.”30 This ruling was upheld on appeal in 2004. Finally, in July 2005, a small group of scientists spent ten days examining the 350 bone fragments in an effort, said Dr. Owsley, a forensic anthropologist from the Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum of Natural History, to understand how this person lived, how he died, and, more importantly, where he fits in the so-called migratory patterns of early America. The ramifications of this single set of human remains to how America was literally peopled could be profound. Native nations are understandably leery of this most recent effort to diminish their legal and cultural rights. They have enlisted the help of Senator John McCain (R-AZ), and current chair of the Committee on Indian Affairs, who introduced an amendment to NAGPRA in 2004 that would broaden the definition of “Native American” remains by expanding it to govern so-called “ancient” discoveries as well. That amendment has been held up for more than a year by Interior officials with the backing of a number of scientists. But even this amendment, if ever enacted, might not be enough. As one writer put it: If the majority [of non-Indians] profoundly longs to believe that men of Caucasoid extraction toured here 16,000 years ago in Savile Row suits, ate gourmet cuisine, and explored the Pacific Northwest with their intact pre-Christianized families until the marauding horde of war-whooping Mongoloid injuns [sic] came descending pell-mell from their tribal haunts to drive Cascade points into European hips until they fell, one after another, in the earliest and most pitiful campaign of ethnic cleansing, then that is what science will painstakingly confirm, that is what 8 INTRODUCTION the high courts will evenhandedly affirm, and that is what in time the majority will happily come to believe.31 In marked contrast to traditional Western religions, the belief systems of Native Americans do not rely on doctrines, creeds, or dogmas. Established or universal truths—the mainstay of Western religions—play no part in Indian faith. Ceremonies are communal efforts undertaken for specific purposes in accordance with instructions handed down from generation to generation.... Where dogma lies at the heart of Western religion, Native American faith is inextricably bound to the use of land. The site-specific nature of Indian religious practice derives from the Native American perception that land is itself a sacred, living being.32 The United States’ ambivalence toward the religious rights of indigenous peoples was exemplified by two notable events in 1996. First, President Clinton recognized the religious rights of Indians when, on May 24, he issued an executive order to promote accommodation of access to sites considered holy by Indian religious practitioners, and to provide additional security for the physical integrity of these sacred sites.33 However, two and a half weeks later, on June 8, a federal district court decision, Bear Lodge Multiple Use Association v. Babbitt, undermined these same religious rights when it ruled that the National Park Service could not “voluntarily” ban rock climbers during the month of June to accommodate the religious rights of several tribes who hold ceremonies at Devils Tower, Wyoming, a sacred site to the Indians and a national monument. A comparative review of these two events and their historical context will reveal the ongoing tension in American society and among federal policymakers toward Indian religious traditions. Clinton, for his part, was not acting hastily in the issuance of his order recognizing the importance of sacred sites to Indians. In fact, he was exercising authority derived from several constitutional provisions (including one which requires the president to “take care that the laws be faithfully executed”), the commander-in-chief clause, and the express powers vested in him by congressional statutes, and acting, in his own words, “in furtherance of Federal treaties.” This executive order was a companion measure to an earlier Clinton order issued April 29, 1994, that required federal agencies and departments to accommodate American Indians in their need and use of eagle feathers and body parts. The sacred site order mandated that all federal agencies with any responsibility for the management of federal lands implement practices which would oblige and aid tribal members with access to and ceremonial use of sacred sites, and required those agencies to avoid activities that might negatively affect the “physical integrity of such sacred sites.” The agencies were given a year to prepare a report for the president on how they were going to implement his order.
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