! Draft ! For discussion only please – currently being circulated for comment. ! Draft ! Canada’s Trickster: on Mi’kmaq Diplomacy and the om/mission of History Any observer of the intellectual landscape in Canadian political science will note a growing interest in the changing nature of the relationship between Canada and the First Nations of Turtle Island. In some cases, this interest arises out of a genuine desire to seek accommodation for the political, social, economic and spiritual needs of ‘Canada’s First Peoples’. In others, the meaning appears more colonial – seeking to confirm the position of “our Aboriginal people” as a sub-national ethno-cultural minority. Whatever the intellectual force of these arguments, they are, in large part, still founded on Canadian – occidental – assumptions about the provenance, place and prospects of Canada’s indigenous peoples. Orthodoxies1 do, in fact, underlie much of the current thinking about the ‘Indian problem’ in Canada. Alan Cairns, for example, focuses on the concept of ‘citizens plus’ in order to find a more acceptable – to both Canada and Aboriginal peoples - means of integrating Aboriginal peoples into Canada. Even the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples – heralded as a pivotal moment in relationships between the Canadian state and the First Nations living in Canada – was inscribed in what Kiera Ladner refers to as the ‘constitutional orthodoxy’. There are parallels to this and Thomas Flanagan’s arguments about the ‘aboriginal orthodoxy’ at work in current political discussions and research. Neither the integrationist orthodoxy nor that of the assimilationist serves us well in advancing our understanding of how First Nations can learn to live within Canada. The challenge, then, remains that of dis-covering the orthodoxies underlying our attempts to understand the political relationship between Canada and First Nations. The ideas presented here respond to Ladner and Henderson’s observation that “Canadian politics and political science have tended to lack the creative sense and understanding necessary for the process of renewal of Treaty federalism and, thus for the honouring of constitutional responsibilities”2. They also echo John Borrow’s observation that First Nations are beyond the “borders” of our imagination3. While his arguments focus principally on the legal realm, many of his observations are also pertinent to political science as well. 1 It is important to differentiate the meanings of orthodoxy and convention. Conventions represent a collection of agreed-upon ideas that are fluid and evolve over long time periods. Orthodoxies, on the other hand, are quite literally ‘right thoughts’ – thoughts that are accepted by some kind of oversight body, like a church. These orthodoxies tend to be more restrictive, since they serve – in part – the function of determining who is in and who is out. Podcasting may seem unorthodox, but to an ipod user, it is certainly not unconventional. 2 Ladner, Kiera. 2003. “Treaty Federalism: An Indigenous Vision of Canadian Federalisms”, New Trends in Canadian Federalism, 2nd Edition, Francois Rocher and Miriam Smith, eds., Broadview, Peterborough at 189. See also Henderson, James Youngblood. 1994. “Empowering Treaty Federalism”, Saskatchewan Law Review, 58; Henderson, James Youngblood and Russel L. Barsh. 1980. The Road: Indian Tribes and Political Liberty, University of California Press, Los Angeles; Henderson, James Youngblood. 1994. “Implementing the Treaty Order”, Continuing Poundmaker and Riel’s Quest in Richard Gosse, James Youngblood Henderson and Roger Carter, eds., Purich, Saskatoon; and Henderson, James Youngblood. 1996. “First Nations Legal Inheritances in Canada: The Mikmaq Model”, The Manitoba Law Journal, 23 (January) at 6. 3 Borrows UTLJ at 418. See also Macklem McGill Law Journal (Rynard, POL 495, at 240). 1 ! Draft ! For discussion only please – currently being circulated for comment. ! Draft ! Inspired by the tradition of the trickster, the purpose of this article is to reveal that our knowledge about the intellectual traditions of First Nations in Canada is incomplete. “The trickster encourages an awakening of understanding because listeners are compelled to interpret and reconcile the notion that their ideas may be partial”4. The tales of the trickster are not incidental to First Nations’ learning, nor can they be dismissed as simple tales of mischief and wrongdoing. As Gerald Vizenor argues, the “trickster is an existential shaman in the comic mode, not an isolated and sentimental tragic hero in conflict with nature”5. Indeed, embracing this approach allows us to escape, “the constraints imposed by the utilization of Eurocentric-Western universalizing theoretical constructs to explain an ‘Indian reality’”6. In so doing, we can begin to understand how our own traditions and interactions with First Nations provide us with a wealth of examples of creativity and imagining – examples that our current orthodoxies have blinded us to. The trickster arrives here with his story as witness to our (lack of) historical consciousness about the diplomatic and political resources of the Mi’kmaq prior to and following their contact with Europeans7. In this sense, this new understanding of the past will take on the form of the trickster, charming or tricking us into challenging our own limited understanding of the past, and transforming us as it takes on a new persona. The trickster is alive – this time in the East – and is willing to help us by revealing to us a perspicuous understanding of the past. In order to begin this transformation, we will first examine the historical context in which Mi’kmaq diplomacy first became evident to Europeans. This will be followed by an analysis of the diplomatic “speech acts” of the Mi’kmaq, revealed in their interactions with the English and French with whom they shared their lands. The Treaties of 1760/61 will serve as the springboard for this reflection because it offers us a window onto the political and legal histories of the Mi’kmaq8. As the trickster leaves us, we will be challenged to think about the intellectual traditions of the Mi’kmaq, and how they might give us new perspective on our own history in Canada. Context In 1534, Jacques Cartier was greeted on the shores of Mi’kma’ki with “joy and mirth, as it were desiring our friendship”9. Who were these people who “went on shore making a 4 Borrows AILR at 40 5 Vizenor, G “The People Named Chippewa” 6 Ladner at 175. 7 In 1969, Harold Cardinal wrote that the “history of Canada’s Indians is a shameful chronicle of white man’s disinterest, his deliberate trampling of Indian rights and his repeated betrayal of our trust. Generations of Indians have grown up behind a buckskin curtain of indifference, ignorance …”. See Cardinal Harold. 1999. The Unjust Society, Douglas & McIntyre Ltd., Vancouver. 8 This approach takes its inspiration from JGA Pocock, and his work on the Treaty of Waitangi in New Zealand. Although the treaty context is very different, he demonstrates the ‘usefulness’ of treaties as site for understanding the political and legal thought and history of the signatories to the treaty in question. I make reference to the ‘Treaties of 1760/61’ because each community of Mi’kmaq signed what was essentially their own copy of the treaty, when they were able to reach Halifax. 9 Goldsmid, “The Principal Navigations” at 90. 2 ! Draft ! For discussion only please – currently being circulated for comment. ! Draft ! great noise, beckoning unto us that wee should come on land, shewing us certaine skins upon pieces of wood …” whom Cartier encountered, and what was the purpose of their demonstration of friendship? Were they simply communicating for the purposes of trade, or were their motivations broader, representing the desire to establish relations with these strangers aboard the floating log10? What, indeed, was their story? This first encounter between Cartier and the Mi’kmaq was a portent of things to come in Aboriginal-Canadian relations. Even in the 21st century, when our encounters are more likely to occur across the ethernet than across the water, Aboriginal people continue to make a great noise, inviting us to share in relationship-building and the making of friendship. The story of Mi’kmaq hospitality, and their willingness to create a space of dialogue – a space where their traditions and thought shared its meanings with those of the English – is where our story begins. This is the story of a small part of the world which went largely ignored by European powers until the 1700s. While the Dutch, French and English were busily settling the Thirteen Colonies that would become the United States, and the French and English were clashing over their possessions in New France and the areas along the St. Lawrence, Acadia was largely an afterthought. After all, Acadia was a harsh and unforgiving land, forested, and with exceptions not yet farmable. If not for the abundant fishing resources, which drew most of Europe’s attention towards Newfoundland and the issue of permanent fishing settlements, Acadia was little more that an exchangeable piece of property, parts of which passed back and forth between British and French ownership. Clearly, however, Acadia was not Terra Nullius, nor would any of the French or British residents in Acadia have argued as much. What was Acadia like in the 1600s? Even as early as 1600, Europe had incorporated the East Coast into its economy, as a source of both fish and revenue from furs11. Due in part to a lack of food, and the religious ideals of its peoples, Europe became dependent on the fishery resources off the coasts of Acadia. This forced this fishery in Acadia to become a central issue in European politics and diplomacy by the mid 1600s12. It was within the context of fishing that the fur trade became an economic sideline around the 1580s13. While contact between Europeans and indigenous peoples was no longer a novelty for either, the 1500s and 1600s can be described as an era of accommodation and adaptation.