Synopsis
In July 1990, a dispute over a proposed golf course to be built on Kanien’kéhaka (Mohawk) lands in Oka, Quebec, set the stage for a historic confrontation that would grab international headlines and sear itself into the Canadian consciousness. Director Alanis Obomsawin—at times with a small crew, at times alone—spent 78 days behind Kanien’kéhaka lines filming the armed standoff between protestors, the Quebec police and the Canadian army.
A word from Tënk
Political Quebec is once again missing a valuable opportunity to do things differently; it could have distinguished itself by engaging Indigenous authorities in a process rooted in respect and in the fundamental recognition of the interdependence between humans and nature.
Territorial recognition, still taboo in many circles, is in fact an homage — to the land itself, and to those who bear the responsibility for its continuity. The pine forest of Kanehsatake, beyond the so-called “crisis” of 1990, embodies the soul of a people and remains, even thirty years later, the most telling example of the political status quo, in which the State invariably ends up imposing its own terms, invoking the primacy of law.
Quebec’s recent attempt to endow itself with a constitution serves as a reminder that compromise remains unilateral, even as we seek a process that measures up to what international law recognizes as our right: the right to self-determination.
The fragile state of our ecosystems, and Mother Earth’s constant reminders of the urgency to act, should ideally guide us toward collaboration rather than conflict. The role of Indigenous peoples, their knowledge, and the value they bring to science are acknowledged across the world. What is lacking is not recognition — but courage, and the political will to put that recognition into action.
Ghislain Picard
Innu activist
Former Chief of the Assembly of First Nations
of Quebec and Labrador
