They are mostly women. For years, they have stood up to profit-hungry companies that wanted to cross their territory in British Columbia. In 2020, the voices of the Wet’suwet’en Nation, who opposed the development of the Coastal GasLink (CGL) pipeline project, were heard around the world. One of the opponents of the project, Wetʼsuwetʼen Chief Dsta’hyl, was recently named Canada’s first “prisoner of conscience” by Amnesty International. He was placed under house arrest for defying the company’s injunction to continue construction.
On Tuesday, the Présence Autochtone festival opens with the documentary film Yintah, which follows the long journey of the members of the Wet’suwet’en Nation in their opposition to pipeline projects that cross their territory. Yintah is the name of the territory that the Wet’suwet’en Nation defends and cherishes. “It took about ten years to film,” says Brenda Michell, one of the producers of the film, who grew up on Wet’suwet’en territory and whose sister, Freda Huson, is one of the main characters in the film. “There was footage shot by different videographers. They were interested in how we were defending our territory, against the intrusion of different companies.”
The Wet’suwet’en Nation, which occupies a territory of 22,000 square kilometres in British Columbia, is made up of five clans. The legitimacy of these traditional structures was recognized in the Delgamuukw decision in 1997. They are distinct from band councils, which are structures put in place by colonial governments through the Indian Act.
The distinction is important. It was the band councils that negotiated a secret agreement with Coastal GasLink to continue the work, says Brenda Michell. However, the traditionalists believe that they are the ones who have jurisdiction over the exploitation of the territory. A highly symbolic scene in the film shows the traditionalists, led by Chief Dsta’hyl, being turned away at the door of the band council premises by representatives of Coastal GasLink. The latter are holding an information session there, in front of twenty to thirty people, to say that one sixth of the pipeline revenues will be redistributed to Aboriginal people, not to mention the good jobs that the company will provide. “There is a division,” acknowledges Brenda Michell in an interview.
Women at the barricades
Throughout the blockade, it was women who were most present at the barricades.
“We are matrilineal,” explains Jennifer Wickham, who also produced the film. “Within our system, women are the owners of the territory. The men are there to support them and protect them, but it is the women who are responsible for the territory.”
The film opens with Brenda Michell’s sister, Freda Huson. She occupies the land by trapping animals. Like Jennifer Wickham’s sister, Molly Wickham, she has given up her job to defend her land against the pipeline invasion. At first, she fends off representatives of other companies who drop off water and tobacco at the barricades in an attempt to appease the Wet’suwet’en opponents. Then comes Coastal GasLink, which eventually obtains an injunction to continue its work, forcing the Wet’suwet’en to abandon their blockade.
Today, Brenda Michell has also returned to live on the land, with her sister. She teaches the Wet’suwet’en language there, and works at the healing centre, where Indigenous people are welcomed and allowed to reconnect with their traditions and their land. To this day, she is firmly opposed to the construction of a natural gas compressor station, whose noise would disrupt the centre’s activities and the surrounding wildlife. “We don’t want these compressor stations,” she says simply. “The healing centre is very important to us. We need to heal from colonialism, from the residential school experience, from the sexual abuse that has taken place and continues to this day. Our young people are dying of drug overdoses. When people come to the centre, they come back to the land and it makes a real difference. Now, the pipeline people follow us everywhere.”
At two hours, the film has some lengths. But these lengths bear witness to the bitterness of the traditionalists’ fight. While they continue to demonstrate and try to exercise traditional power, the injunction confines them to illegality, the police end up arresting them and destroying their camp.
“The goal of the struggle has always been to assert our sovereignty. It’s also about people understanding the history of colonization and First Nations laws. We’re going to continue to live our lives in our own way. We’re going to continue to build relationships with other First Nations. To me, that’s a victory. We’re getting stronger, and more and more people are understanding us,” says Jennifer Wickham.
Support across the country
As we know, starting on February 6, 2020, barricades were erected on railways by supporters of the Wet’suwet’en cause across the country. In Quebec, railway blockades were erected on the Listuguj and Kahnawake reserves for several weeks, then in Saint-Lambert.
“The Government of Canada only wants access to resources to make money. But we think long term. We think about future generations. Everybody needs clean water, everybody needs clean air to breathe,” continues Jennifer Wickham.
What is clear throughout the film is that it was COVID-19 that ended the opposition to the Coastal GasLink pipeline. If the world had not been shaken by this pandemic, would Coastal GasLink have been able to continue its work? No one can say. But today, the name Wet’suwet’en is no longer unknown in Canada. And members of the nation’s five clans will continue to defend their tradition, day after day.