Reflections on the relationship between Native people and salmon
Lummi fisherman Jay Julius said the Boldt Decision upheld more than the treaty-reserved right to fish in usual and accustomed areas on and off reservation.
It preserved a critical part of Native identity.
“Salmon were here before us,” said Julius, a former Lummi Nation chairman. “The rivers were here before us. Everything was here before us. No matter what creation story you look at, we were the last to be created. The salmon has sustained us since the beginning of time and it serves a great purpose for not just humans, but for the rivers, the trees, the eagles, the bears, the wolves. Everything points back to salmon. It’s our identity, our culture, our everything.”
2024 is the 50th anniversary of U.S. District Court Judge George H. Boldt’s ruling upholding the fishing rights of tribal nations that signed treaties in 1854–55 by which the U.S. obtained land for its expansion into the Pacific Northwest. “Fish War,” a documentary produced this year by North Forty and Northwest Treaty Tribes Media, is a status report of sorts about efforts to restore the salmon population. The film will be shown on Saturday, Nov. 9, at the San Juan Community Theatre in Friday Harbor. The screening, co-sponsored by Salish Current, will be followed by a panel discussion.
The ruling established the treaty tribes as co-managers of Washington’s salmon population — a recognition that if there are no salmon to catch, then the treaty is violated. In the ensuing years, the treaty tribes brought down dams on the Elwha River and forced the state to begin replacing culverts that block salmon migration. They operate hatcheries, restore habitat, employ scientists to monitor environmental health, and with the state set catch limits based on salmon population estimates.
And yet it’s been difficult to correct 160 years of degradation, according to the voluminous data on the Northwest Indian Fisheries Commission website. Tidal action bucking up against shoreline armoring scours beaches of potential salmon spawning sites. Stormwater carries debris, oils and other pollution into the sea. Deforestation near streams has eliminated shade needed for the cool water young salmon depend on as they mature.
Julius hopes that the 50th anniversary of the Boldt decision will bring a new understanding of what a world without salmon would mean to Native identity — and spark a renewed commitment to restoring habitat and environmental health.
The histories of the First Peoples and the salmon are inextricably linked. Stories passed down through the generations tell of an ancient covenant between the people and Salmon Woman to care for the salmon. One result of that covenant, Julius said, is the First Salmon Ceremony conducted by several Northwest tribal nations. The first salmon of the year is ceremoniously returned to the water so that it may tell the other salmon that it was treated respectfully and ensure salmon return to meet the people’s needs.
“A treaty is supreme — the supreme law of the land in the United States,” Julius said. “The covenant with Salmon Woman is supreme. It’s everything.”
That ancestral knowledge shapes the treaty tribes’ worldview on the work they do. When canneries made salmon a commodity and depleted the population, Native fishermen and women still used millennia-old netting methods that enabled them to keep only the fish they needed. When deforestation, pollution and shoreline alterations hammered already beleaguered salmon populations, the treaty tribes led the fight for salmon habitat restoration — even going to court when necessary.
An ongoing assault on Native identity
As long as the covenant was kept, the salmon met the people’s needs. Salmon meat — dried in smokehouses, barbecued on stakes, steamed in bentwood boxes and cooked over fern leaves in a pit — sustained the people through winter and was served at longhouse ceremonies. Salmon was also a valuable trade item.
While Native treaty signers intended to preserve this relationship, a new assault on their identity as Salmon People had begun before the ink on the treaty was dry.
One, the treaty cleared the way for newcomers drawn by fortunes to be gained from resource exploitation. “The newcomers’ philosophy was ‘Dam the rivers, cut all the trees, cut everything that’s sacred’ — and do all this at the expense of everything that is sacred to us,” Julius said.
Two, 22 tribes were named in the Treaty of Point Elliott; others were lumped into the catch-all of “and other allied tribes.” All were expected to move to one of the reservations established for them — at Muckleshoot, Port Madison, Tulalip, Swinomish, Lummi. Those who chose not to relocate became known by the government as landless or unenrolled Indians and were not included in the Boldt Decision. They don’t have treaty fishing rights and they don’t have a voice at the table.
“Some of them haven’t forgotten their identity, but what is it to live without salmon?,” Julius said. “Without salmon, you’re just another group within American society.”
Kadi Bizyayeva is fisheries director of the Stillaguamish Tribe, a Northwest Indian Fisheries commissioner, and member of the Salmon Recovery Funding Board. Her tribe’s salmon fishery is limited because of diminished runs on the Stillaguamish River. Her tribe is not alone.
Boldt guaranteed treaty tribe fishers 50% of harvestable fish but, according to “Fish War,” diminishing salmon populations mean that they actually are catching less today than they caught pre-Boldt.
“Finding our value now without the salmon, it’s hard,” Bizyayeva said in the documentary. “It has created a huge disconnect from our elders to our youth. Those traditions have kind of stopped being passed down. There’s a lot that our youth aren’t able to see or learn or practice, and there’s a lot that our elders can’t teach.”
‘We’re still here today’
Willie Frank III, former Nisqually Tribe chairman and son of the late treaty rights activist Billy Frank Jr., will participate in the panel discussion on Nov. 9 in Friday Harbor.
“I think about the emotions and the feelings right now over the pain and suffering that’s happened to Indian people for so long, and I can hear my dad talking to me, telling our Indian people, ‘It’s time to heal and come back together again and remember who we are’.”
With a bit of optimism, he added, “We’ve been through way too much, and we’re still here today.” Identity as Salmon People played a role in that. Frank’s grandfather, Willie, was born in 1879 and was sent to boarding school where his Native tongue was forbidden. But in Judge Boldt’s courtroom, he translated for a witness whose first language was Lushootseed.
A language once suppressed — translated by a 95-year-old Nisqually man who was once forbidden from speaking the language — helped uphold treaty fishing rights.
The Boldt Decision also affirmed what the state had resisted recognizing all along: that treaties are the supreme law of the land, that the treaty tribes are sovereigns, and that they have an inherent right to protect salmon.
That resilience gives Frank confidence in the future.
“Look, we made it through years of not being allowed to speak our language, not being allowed to practice our culture and our way of life, and here we are today, making decisions on Indian child welfare, social services, health care, education and economic development,” Frank said.
“You know, we don’t quit as Indians. Things might get challenging at times, but you know, if we keep getting back to the table, look out what’s best for the whole, and hold the state accountable through the process, I think salmon have a chance.”
“Fish War” will be shown Saturday, Nov. 9, at the San Juan Community Theatre in Friday Harbor. The screening, co-sponsored by Salish Current, will be followed by a panel discussion. The film will also be shown on Nov. 7 at 5:30 p.m. at the Orcas Center’s Madrona Room and on Nov. 8 at 5 p.m. at the Lopez Community Center by the Friday Harbor Film Festival.
By Richard Arlin Walker
Also read in Salish Current:
• “Tribal right to fish in ‘usual and accustomed’ areas comes with complexity,” Feb. 23, 2024
• “50 years after Boldt Decision: new and lingering challenges to salmon recovery,” Feb. 2, 2024