Idle Some More

Some folks seem to have more insight than others into the world's weary ways. The DSM-IV calls it chronic depression. I call it realism. Anyone who finds themselves at peace with the current state of the world is, as far as I am concerned, in need of help - and fast. Wars. Famines. The rise of populist nationalism. Terrorism. Take your pick, the world seems an ugly place. Acknowledging it as such isn't a sign of despair. It just means you're paying attention.

As an archaeologist, there isn't much I can do about most of those things. I have voted. I have protested. I have added my tears to oceans of them wept by others. I have despaired. Accordingly, as I have grown older, I've found myself drawn more to causes that I CAN do something about - even as an individual.

Most of archaeology's problems here in Canada are emblematic of the same issues that affect Canadian society as a whole: racism, sexism, the triumph of economic concerns over moral and ethical ones, and so on. The images are the same, they just happen to be painted on a smaller canvas.

The vast majority of Canadian archaeology is carried out by archaeologists working for hire in advance of development projects. In business circles, this is called "cultural resource management" or CRM. Historically, CRM was a thing that was done BY Settler archaeologists TO the Indigenous past. When I started in the profession in 1986, it rarely occurred to any of us that we should seek Indigenous approval from, or consider working with, First Nations in the exploration of their material past.

It did occur to some. Alas, just not me. More than 30 years ago, I was invited to an event in Toronto hosted by the eminent Ontario archaeologist Ron Williamson. During the session, Dr. Williamson and some Indigenous community leaders in attendance laid out a future for CRM in which we archaeologists and Indigenous peoples worked together to explore, manage, and conserve the archaeological past. The event was a revelation for me. It made "sense." Most of the archaeological sites in the province are Indigenous. The vast majority of the timeline for the human occupation of the province is Indigenous. Why on earth did it never occur to me that they might want a role in the stewardship of their own heritage? It seemed so ...obvious. At the end of the meeting, with smiles all around, we agreed that the conversation had been very productive, that we should talk more, and that great progress was just over the horizon.

Three decades later, I found myself in Hamilton sitting at a table with Ron at the annual conference of the National Trust for Canada, a charity that works with communities to conserve heritage places. The focus of the session was a discussion about cooperation between heritage professionals and Indigenous communities. I noted several starry-eyed participants who could barely contain their excitement at the prospect of future in which heritage was at the vanguard of the quest for social justice. At the end of the meeting, with smiles all around, it was agreed that the conversation had been very productive, that we should definitely talk more, and that great progress was just over the horizon.

What.

The.

Fuuuuudge? (except, as the movie says, "I didn't say fudge.")

Now, I don't wish to suggest that there has been no progress on these matters, but most of the structural issues that were wrong with CRM archaeology in the 1980s remain wrong today. The province, whose main impetus is economic development, continues to set the rules for when archaeology should be done, who is allowed to do it (through licensing), how it should be carried out, which archaeological sites are worthy of protection, and which can be bulldozed away. In over 35 years of work, on over 3000 sites, I have been party to the protection of fewer than 10. Were we to conserve forestry, fisheries, wetlands, or species at risk in this manner, the environment of Ontario would be in worse trouble than it already is.

Indigenous communities now have a role in the management of their heritage, thanks to some significant Supreme Court of Canada decisions, the fallout from the findings of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC), and the push to bring our legal system into alignment with UNDRIP (the United Nations Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples). Now, instead of being ostentatiously ignored in the process, the province has mandated that First Nations communities must be consulted about the management of their heritage - but not as a requirement until the process is three quarters complete, and not before most Indigenous archaeological sites have been consigned to oblivion based on provincial significance criteria (that was set without Indigenous input).

It's clearly not enough. And the fact that it's clearly not enough more than 30 years after we started talking about the issue is difficult to stomach. Canadian society has always had a back burner for some social justice issues. When it comes to the First Nations, their needs always seem to be placed well back of that. It's almost enough to make you give up.

Almost...

We archaeologists and anthropologists and students may not be a powerful community, but we’re also not nothing. French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre said that, during World War II, French artists and writers faced only two real choices: collaborate - or resist. Of course, he had no expectation that the creative community should be out there blowing up bridges and dams but he felt that they had a duty to use their gifts in the service of resistance.

Now archaeology's issues aren't an actual war - but they are part of a fight. And we have both skin in the game ($$) and a moral obligation to support the Indigenous communities whose past we have the privilege to explore. Racism and colonialism are not Indigenous problems. They are a creation of the Settler Society - of Colonizers, and the First Nations are its victims. It should not be left to them alone to fix things.

I am under no illusions as to what can be done. The problem is old and runs deep throughout Canadian institutions. We're only archaeologists. There aren’t many of us. We have almost no discernible political power. We have very little money behind us. But we do have knowledge about this system we’re trapped in that doesn’t work. And we have the ability to draw attention to the injustices that have been built into it. We have the ability to create a ruckus – and if we care about our our community, about the First Nations that we work with, and about our legacy as human beings, we should roll up our sleeves and get on with it. Let's not let another 30 years slide by.