The Impact Of Mining on Canada's First Nations

What would you do if you came home from work tomorrow and found a stranger prying up your floorboards? What if you called the police, only to find that the stranger had a legal right to be in your home and, giving you only a month’s warning, could start digging up your basement?

Some First Nations in British Columbia — like the Takla Lake First Nation — say that the Canadian province’s mining laws are analogous to this disturbing hypothetical situation. Right now, any individual mining entrepreneur with an internet connection, a credit card, and $25 can register a claim to minerals underneath First Nations’ lands in British Columbia. This system is the modern face of 19th-century “free entry” mining in Canada.

According to a report issued by the International Human Rights Clinic at Harvard Law School, the number of mining claims on Takla’s land has skyrocketed since online “free entry” registration came into effect in 2005. Furthermore, the government gives First Nations only 30 days to respond to proposals to commence exploration on these claims. Members of Takla worry that their close relationship with the land they have inhabited and used for centuries may be imperiled if claims turn into exploration sites and then producing mines.

Takla’s troubles with mining and other extractive industries are hardly new. For many years, profits and employment from the timber and minerals in northern British Columbia have flowed south to industries and government in Vancouver and Victoria, while Takla and other First Nations have been left behind with little but wasted landscapes. Takla members fear chemical contamination from abandoned mines, but the First Nation lacks the resources and the government support to conduct thorough environmental studies and reclamation efforts. The company currently operating an open-pit mine on Takla’s land reached a “financial compensation agreement” with the community in 2006, but some Takla members say it is too little, too late.

The heart of the current debate is how much say First Nations should have over mining on their lands. Government representatives interviewed for the report pointed to a pilot “collaborative consultation” program and a new initiative to share mining revenue with affected First Nations to show that they are taking their obligation to consult and accommodate affected First Nations seriously. The Clinic’s report shows, however, that these reforms do not go far enough to protect the rights of Takla and other First Nations in northern British Columbia to their land and resources. As with “free entry,” the statutory system has yet to recognize adequately the special protections to which First Nations and indigenous people are entitled under international and domestic constitutional law.

Takla members take part in British Columbia’s modern, industrialized society, but their cultural and spiritual identities still revolve around their land. For example, members of Takla hunt and gather traditional foods and medicines, and they still depend on these activities to a great extent for their livelihood. Families live on hereditary plots of land called keyohs, and each family has one leader, or “keyoh holder,” a position that is passed down through the generations. These hereditary leaders have a duty to “speak for” and protect the land. It is because of such connections to the land that human rights law grants First Nations special protections to use their land and be involved with associated decision-making.

British Columbia should respect these protections. Rather than inviting themselves into a home, government officials and industry representatives should knock on a First Nation’s door first. They should sit down with the community before pulling up any floorboards, before registering claims and initiating exploration. No one, including First Nations, should have to defend their home after trespassing has occurred and digging has already begun.

Photo credit: The International Human Rights Clinic at Harvard Law School