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WHALING NATION
By Shawn Blore
 
Explaining the intricacies of pre-contact tribal hierarchy to increasingly suspicious international whaling delegates, however, proved a little beyond the finessing skills of Greene and Parker. With the like-minded nations firmly opposed, and only the U.S., Norway, and Japan firmly in favour, it became clear that the Makah proposal hadn't a hope of swaying enough of the remaining delegates to win the required two-thirds majority. Rather than see the proposal defeated, the U.S. delegation opted to withdraw it entirely.

In the months since this tactical retreat, the Makah have regrouped to plan their campaign for a grey whale quota at the 1997 IWC conference in Monaco. Officially, Greene and Parker have been relieved of their commands and the whaling program has been taken over by a commission of elders, one from each of the Makah's many whaling families. However, during a September conference call between the Straight, Parker, and Makah Whaling Commission member Ben Johnson, it was Parker who dominated the conversation, and it was Parker who described in detail the Makah's new strategy: bring IWC delegates from reluctant countries such as New Zealand and Australia over to Neah Bay, then lobby like there's no tomorrow,

In light of this new strategy, it's clear that the creation of the Makah Whaling Commission was intended, at least in part, to convey a very simple message: here are our real elders. They are in favour of this hunt. What is said by others who are not on this committee, and are therefore not qualified to speak on whaling issues, is not important. It's a strategy that might well succeed.

Dan Greene himself hasn't been overly discouraged by the year-long delay, but then the whale hunt is only a small part of his plans for Native sovereignty, plans that extend beyond whaling to include fishing resources of all kinds. Now engaged in complicated negotiations with the U.S. and Canadian governments and the Nuu-chuh-nulth bands of Vancouver Island for a share in a whiting fishery that straddles both international and intertribal borders, Greene sees the whale hunt as only the beginning of Makah claims to resource management. "In 10 years, I think the tribes out here on both sides of the border will be allocating catch limits among themselves and then just telling the U.S. and Canada about it afterwards." That the Makah and the Nuu-chah-nuIth are working on a shared fishery is just one of the signs of increasing contact between the two peoples. The contact makes sense, because the two groups are closely related, sharing both a similar language and a culture that once involved whaling. Given this, many Canadian environmentalists fear that if the Makah commence whaling, it won't be long before the Nuu-chah-nulth reach for the harpoon.

Ironically, the Nuu-chah-nulth would face none of the same legal barriers as the Makah. Canada is not a member of the IWC, so the commission's whaling ban is meaningless, and the Canadian Fisheries Act allows aboriginals to kill grey and other whales "for subsistence or ceremonial purposes". No permit required.

Despite this, the Nuu-chah-nulth have no plans to go whaling, at least according to whaling chief Tom Happynook of the Ohiaht, one of the 14 bands of the Nuu-chah-nulth Nation, Happynook himself has no moral objections to whaling. In fact, he said, it's something he'd like to try his hand at. "That would be really something," he said with the wistfulness of a lottery-ticker buyer.

For the moment, the Ohiaht have other concerns. In the upcoming land-claims negotiations, they will be asking that their traditional rights to the sea and its resources be recognized. The Ohiaht want to be consulted on all fisheries-management decisions involving whales. What's more, the tribe wants to ensure that any and all of the sacred sites used in preparation for the whale hunt be included in any land-claims settlement. These sites are many, and large. "They may Include whole mountains," said Happynook. It's an ambitious claim, perhaps even a touch grasping, but then it is their opening position. Clearly, for the Nuu-chah-nulth, whaling is as much a matter of politics as it is of culture. In this, the Nuu-chah-nulth are merely following the example set by the Makah.

If the Makah hunt is largely, or even primarily, about treaty rights and resource politics, that doesn't mean there isn't a cultural component. Anthropologists have written at length about the elaborate rituals, ceremonies, songs, and dances surrounding the whale hunt. These songs and rituals are said to still exist, but they're family secrets and closely guarded. No one from the reserve will discuss them openly with an outsider.

What tribal members like David Sones will discuss is what it meant to be present last year when the tribe butchered a young grey whale that had gotten tangled up in a fishing net and drowned. "There are old pictures of our people standing around the whales being cut up on the beach, and you know that was just a huge social event." said Sones. "It's something that in my lifetime I thought I'd never see happen. They wiped out all the whales. They'll never come beck. So to actually take part in that, to experience something that was so common back in your ancestors' time, there's no putting words to that kind of experience."

The Makah haven't said exactly what technique they'll use when it comes time to actually go out and hunt the whales, but the odds are that sealskin floats clamshell-blade harpoons will not find much of a role. Instead, the tribe will likely opt for something like the handheld exploding harpoons that Alaskan Eskimos use to hunt bowhead. According to Greene, the IWC and animal-rights groups have insisted they not use traditional methods because they would be too cruel. Some cynics, including Paul Watson, have pointed out that is also a convenient excuse for the Makah whalers to avoid any personal danger. Grey whales had a fearsome reputation among whalers, who called them devilfish. They often turned on their attackers, and sometimes predator and prey joined each other in death.

It's probably not really fear that's stopping a completely traditional hunt. It's indifference. To some Makah, it doesn't really matter how the whale Is brought in, as Donny Venske, a Makah fisherman and canoe-carver, explained: "I couldn't care how they kill It," he said. "I just want the meat. When I take that big pile of meat and bones and lay it down at the feet of a chief, that's the payoff. That's what mattes. Not how you kill It."

Traditionally, the way in which the whale was killed was a matter of great importance. The harpooner would put himself through months of spiritual and physical preparation: fasting, abstaining from sex, beating himself with nettles, and diving repeatedly to the bottom of sacred lakes in imitation of the whale. Among the Ohiaht, the final trial involved dragging the harpooner repeatedly across a bed of mussels. Only if he could suffer without flinching was he ready for the hunt.

The intent of these rituals was to toughen the body and prepare the spirit for the taking of the whale's life, but they also had the secondary effect of controlling the number of whales killed each year. That, more than technology, was perhaps the limiting factor. There's nothing like doing without sex and having your body dragged across the rocks to dampen your enthusiasm.

Modern technology renders the physical and spiritual preparations largely redundant. If you don't train enough, if you don't prepare enough, fast enough, if you spend the night before drinking when you should have been praying, you can still point harpoon gun and pull the trigger. Fwoosh, Bam, The whale is yours. With financial incentive, the temptation to overharvest might well be irresistible.

Not so, said tribal concillor Marcy Parker, will fallow the example set by their ancestors, who "took only what they needed."

Thor took only what they needed. It's an article of faith among both Natives and non-Natives throughout North America that precontact Natives were the moat benign of environmental stewards. The scientific evidence for this assertion is a touch shaky, though. To many scientists, the fact that Homo sapiens' arrival in North America coincides with the extinction of some 30 species of large mammals, including the woolly mammoth and the sabre-toothed tiger, strongly suggests that the ancients could be just as greedy and environmentally shortsighted as the rest of humanity.

Bat assume for the moment that the modern-day Makah hold themselves to the ethic of "take only what they need". Will their environmental stewardship be any less destructive? What does it mean to take only what you need when your needs include a split-level house, a new four-wheel drive, and a satellite dish on the front lawn?

The Makah's recent environmental record is not stellar. Widespread clearcutting on the reserve attests to a record of forest management (though to be fair, the Bureau of Indian Affairs mismanaged the Makah's forest for them until the late '80s). Even more telling, Neah Bay's garbage dump is so bad, the Environmental Protection Agency has declared it a hazardous-waste site and ordered it closed. The tribal council has refused to comply with this order because, according to Parker, garbage is the white man's problem. Hardly benign stewardship of the environment.

On the other hand, at the practical level of fisheries management, the Makah seem very much aware of the need for moderation. According to assistant fisheries manager Sones, " Our biggest concern when we pushed for the de-listing, was that it wouldn't be open harvest on grey whales with no input from the tribe." He added: "We want to make sure that the grey whale never goes back on the endangered list."

Sones will likely have the chance to stand by these words, because the Makah are almost certain to get a whaling quota from the IWC eventually. The tribe's carefully calculated lobbying of delegates from countries with aboriginal communities with aboriginal communities, such as New Zealand and Australia might well swing the vote their way. Even if it doesn't, Norway's take of some 300 mince whales this year in defiance of possible U.S. sanctions stands as evidence that the IWC's anti-whaling nations are slowly being forced to accept some form of limited commercial whaling. Under the circumstances, approval for the Makah quota might be less then a year away.

When that fall day comes, and the Makah launch their whaling craft and set out on the hunt, it will be a trial worthy of a Makah whaler, for everyone involved. Non-Natives will have to struggle to understand how it is that the Makah can express their joy that that all is well with the natural world by killing what many consider to be one of Nature's finest creatures. The Makah themselves will be faced with the challenge of living up to the standards of environmental stewardship that they claim are theirs by right.
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