Indigenous communities in the oilsands region strive to balance environment, economic needs
Fifty years after the first oilsands mine sprung to life in northeast Alberta, Indigenous communities in the region struggle to reconcile economic prosperity with ongoing environmental concerns bred by a lucrative industry that has irreparably altered the landscape.
“Themovementhadaverystrong black-and white position that was to shut down the tarsands, stop the beast,” says Eriel Deranger, executive director of the advocacy group Indigenous Climate Action. “It has become the difference between a roof over people’s head and food on the table.”
An estimated 23,000 Indigenous people live in Alberta’s oilsands region, representing 18 First Nations and six Métis settlements.
Since Suncor Energy Inc. established its first mine in 1967 — spurring a rush for bitumen — the oilsands has become the major source of employment in the region, and Indigenous businesses have a significant stake in its success.
“It’s a transformation,” says Fort McKay First Nation Chief Jim Boucher, explaining that when the industry took root, people felt as though land was stripped away without consultation. “They were very bitter for a long time.”
A TRANSITIONING ECONOMY
Fort McKay, about 60 kilometres north of Fort McMurray, was driven into poverty when Europe’s ban on importing fur destroyed the trapping-based economy. Elders took a pragmatic approach, opting to invest resources in the oilsands industry when the Fort McKay Group of Companies launched in 1986, Boucher says.
“The major challenge is transitioning from one economy to another economy ... the old way of doing things was more familyoriented, living with nature,” he notes. “Now you’re dealing with technical issues.”
Indigenous groups continue to increase their stake in oilsands operations — Fort McKay and Mikisew Cree First Nation signed agreements to buy 49 per cent of Suncor’s East Tank Farm Development, a storage facility north of Fort McMurray, in October 2016.
In 2012, the Fort McKay Group of Companies generated $130 million in revenues with joint ventures bringing in another $400 million. Part of the earnings have contributed to a $50-million trust fund for the community.
“We believe if we’re going to make progress going forward, we must do it together,” Mark Little, Suncor’s president of upstream, said in an email.
The company is one of several large players in the region along with operators including BP Canada, Imperial Oil and Canadian Natural Resources Ltd.
“Like any relationship, in the early stages we spent a lot of time ‘getting to know each other,’ and learning what’s important to one another,” said Cenovus Inc. spokeswoman Sonja Franklin in an email. “Generally, in our experience, our relationship (with Indigenous communities) has evolved into one of mutual trust and mutual respect.”
LEGAL ACTION TO PROTECT SACRED LAND
Despite a generally amicable relationship with industry producers and the provincial government, Boucher admits he has concerns about oilsands operations — an attempt to safeguard a portion of land for the 800-member nation prompted a lawsuit against Alberta in 2016.
Beaver Lake Cree Nation, about 200 kilometres northeast of Edmonton, similarly pursued legal action to protect land, launching a case against the provincial and federal governments. The lawsuit originated in 2008 when the First Nation argued that industrial development was violating treaty rights.
“We believe that more could have been done to mitigate the impact of development in the region,” says Geoff Rankin, band administrator for Beaver Lake First Nation. “(The case) will be a long process.”
Rankin’s community walks a tightrope, aiming to preserve traditions while working in an entrenched economy that is at times in direct opposition to their goals.
“We want to work but at the same time we want to protect the viability and longevity of the land we live on,” he says. “We’re not completely opposed to it because it’s a driver of our economy.”
THE FUTURE OF OILSANDS DEVELOPMENT
Indigenous communities in the oilsands region continue to raise concerns about environmental degradation, pointing to issues such as diminishing water quality.
“The reality is people can’t go up to the Athabasca River and drink the water ... and that’s a concern for us,” Beaver Lake’s Rankin says.
It’s a sentiment shared by Deranger, who remembers spending summer months living off the land as a child, sleeping in a canvas tent and hauling water to the campsite from a nearby lake.
“Fresh potable water was taken for granted,” she says. “Probably only in the last five years did our people stop doing that.”
Deranger, a member of the Athabasca Fort Chipewyan First Nation, highlights a well-publicized study linking pollution in the oilsands to higher rates of cancer.
University of Manitoba researchers found elevated cancer rates in Fort Chipewyan, an 850-person hamlet about 600 kilometres northeast of Edmonton. The fish and meat consumed as part of a traditional diet had higher rates of contaminants that result from oil extraction.
Rankin says the future of the oilsands region should be decided by the public, including First Nations peoples.
“I want us to be mindful that shareholders should not have the final say,” he says. “We’re a generational people, we need to live in this region for the rest of our peoples’ lives.”