Permafrost Rights:
Aboriginal Self-Government and the
Supreme Court in R. v. Pamajewon
Bradford W. Morse,
R. v. Pamejewon was the fist occasion in which First
Nations asserted an inherent tight to self-government as the
central ground of appeal to the Supreme Court of Canada. In-
stead of seizing the opportunity to articulate a clear statement
on the right to self-government, the Court elaborated legal stan-
dards replete with subjective elements, lacking in enduring
principles, and based upon a museum-diorama vision of abo-
riginal rights.
As Panajewon concerned gambling on Indian reserves,
the author surveys gambling practices and regulation in the
United States and Canada. This sets the framework for an
analysis of the Court’s application of the Van der Peet test to
determine the aboriginal rights recognized and affirmed by sec-
tion 35(1) of the Constitution Act. The author argues that the
Court has created “permafrost rights” as only the method or
manner of exercise of an approved activity is permitted to
evolve while the activities themselves are not. Furthermore, al-
though Aboriginal perspectives on aboriginal rights are, accord-
ing to the Court, equivalent in import to non-Aboriginal views,
there was no investigation of the relevant substantive Ojibway
laws in Pamajewon. The exploration has been diverted away
from determining the law into a judicial assessment of histori-
cal, sociological and anthropological evidence of what consti-
tutes a distinctive part of a culture; a role for which the judiciary
is not well suited.
The author argues that the Supreme Court should have
looked to the alternate vision of Chief Justice Marshall of the
United States Supreme Court. Marshall CJ. acknowledged the
independent political status of First Nations at the time of con-
tact, as well as the continued existence of that political, not
cultural, identity. In addition, an assessment of the federal gov-
ernment’s position indicates that its policy is founded upon the
recognition of the inherent right to self-government, which
stands in stark contrast to the Court’s decision in Pamajewon.
The Court has created a legal standard that is so hard to
meet and has rendered litigation so expensive to pursue that it is
thoroughly unattractive for First Nations and Metis to seek a
judicial solution. The political route of pressuring for legislative
change or negotiating agreements may now have become the
only viable option.
Dans R. c. Pamajewon, les Premieres nations ont eu, pour
la premiere fois, l’occasion d’invoquer un droit inhdrent A
l’autonomie gouvernementale comme argument principal d’un
appel devant Ia Cour supreme du Canada. Au lieu de saisir
l’opportunit6 de se prononcer clairement sur l’autonomie gou-
verementale, la Cour a articul6 un
test juridique truff6
d’6ldments subjectifs et base sur une vision des droits ances-
traux, si ce n’est sur une vision des Autochtones eux-mtmes,
digne d’un diaporama ou d’un muse.
Itant donne que Paniajewon traite des casinos sur les re-
serves, l’auteur survole les pratiques et rfglements concemant
lesjeux d’argent aux ttats-Unis et ai Canada. Ceci pose les ba-
ses n6cessaires A une analyse de l’application du test dtabi dans
Van der Peet servant A ddterminer quels sont les droits ances-
traux reconuns et confirmds par l’article 35(1) de la Loi consti-
turionnelle de 1982. L’auteur argue que Ia Cour a cr66 des
-droits-penafrost>>
les mdthodes et mani res
d’exercer une activit6 approuve peuvent 6voluer, la dite activi-
t6 dtant interdite d’6volution. De plus, bien que les perspectives
des Autochtones quant aux droits ancestraux sont, selon la
Cour, d’importance 6gale aux vues des non Autochtones, il n’y
cut aucune investigation des lois ojibways sur les questions
abord6es dans Pamajewon.
car seuls
L’auteur soutient que la Cour supreme aurait dQ consid6-
rer la vision alternative de Monsieur lejuge en chef Marshall de
I Cour supreme des ltats-Unis. I a reconnu l’ind6pendance
politique des Premieres nations au temps des premiers contacts,
comme il a reconnu la continuation de cette identit6 politique,
et non culturelle. Aussi, une 6valuntion de la position du gou-
vernement fddral indique qu’elle est fondde sur la reconnais-
sance d’un droit inherent A l’autonomie gouvemementale, ce
qui se d6marque vivement de la decision rendue dans Pamaje-
won.
La Cour a crdd un test juridique qui est si exigeant et qui
a rendu les coots relis aux litiges si dispendieux qu’il est parti-
culi~rement d6savantageux, pour les Autochtones et les Mdtis,
de demander des solutions judiciaires. La vole politique, coin-
prenant des accords ndgoci6s ou des pressions pour des chan-
gements 16gislatifs, serait possiblement devenue la seule option
viable.
. Professor of Law, University of Ottawa. All opinions contained herein are those of the author. I
would like to acknowledge the financial support of the Canada-U.S. Fulbright program and the gen-
erosity of the Oklahoma City University School of Law and its Native American Legal Resource
Center, under the inspired leadership of Dean Rennard Strickland and Director Kirke Kickingbird re-
spectively, for providing me with the conducive environment in which to write this comment.
McGill Law Journal 1997
Revue de droit de McGill
To be cited as: (1997) 42 McGill L.J. l011
Mode de rdffrence: (1997) 42 R.D. McGill 1011
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MCGILL LAW JOURNAL / REVUE DE DROITDE MCGILL
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Introduction
I. Background
A. Aboriginal Economic Realities
B. Gaming
1. The American Experience
2. The Canadian Experience
I1. Circumstances of the Cases
A. R. v. Jones and Pamajewon
B. R. v. Gardner, Pitchenese and Gardner
II1. The Trials
A. R. v. Jones and Pamajewon
B. R. v. Gardner, Pitchenese and Gardner
IV. The Ontario Court of Appeal [Decision
V. The Supreme Court of Canada Decision
VI. Commentary
VII. The Federal Inherent-Right Policy
Conclusion
1997]
B. W. MORSE – R. V PAMAJEWON
1013
Introduction
North American colonization began almost 400 years ago with the arrival of Euro-
peans who intended to make a new life for themselves and their descendants. The early
colonists encountered neither a garden of Eden nor terra nullius, to use biblical and le-
gal frames of reference, but instead landed on the shores of an equally “old world”
populated by millions’ comprised of nations similar, in many ways, to what they had
left behind. The nations with whom the Europeans made contact consisted of organ-
ized societies: diplomatic and trading relationships were widespread, knowledge of
agriculture and pharmacology extensive, the harvest of natural resources was consider-
able yet sustainable, alliances were forged, wars fought, territories demarcated, signifi-
cant geographic sites named While Aboriginal philosophies, governmental structures
and world views differed in many ways from those practised in Europe, striking differ-
ences also existed between Aboriginal nations themselves. Aboriginal societies in
North America were not “new” in any objective sense, merely unknown to Europeans
The French and British governments, most relevant from a Canadian perspective,
recognized the Indian nations qua “nations”‘ and as “the rightful occupants of the
‘For information on post-contact Aboriginal demography see R. Thornton, American Indian Holo-
caust and Survival: A Population History Since 1492 (Norman, Oklahoma: University of Oklahoma
Press, 1987).
2 For detailed historical information, see e.g.: O.P. Dickason, Canada’s First Nations: A History of
Founding Peoples from Earliest imes (Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1992); P Drucker, Indians of
the Northwest Coast (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1955); J.M. Weatherford, Indian Givers: How the
Indians of the Americas Transformed the World, 1st ed. (New York: Ballantine Books, 1988); G.E.
Sioui, Pour une auto-histoire amerindienne: essai sur lesfondements d’une morale sociale (Qubec:
Presses de l’Universitd Laval, 1989); R. Wright, Stolen Continents: The Americas through Indian
Eyes since 1492 (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1992); M. Conrad et al., History of the Cana-
dian Peoples: Beginnings to 1867 (Toronto: Copp Clark Pitman, 1993); and J.R. Miller, Skyscrapers
Hide the Heavens: A History of Indian-White Relations in Canada, rev. ed. (Toronto: University of
Toronto Press, 1989).
‘The legitimacy of the many Aboriginal nations with full ownership of their lands and waters could
not be intelligently nor morally challenged, although such challenges were frequently made. The most
famous of such challenges occurred in theological circles in Spain with the development of the
Requerimiento in 1513, which was read aloud by representatives of the Spanish King as a request to
permit Catholic missionaries to enter the lands of the Indian nation or have war declared. This culmi-
nated in vigorous debates in the 1530s, resulting in the treatises of Francisci de Victoria, De Indis et
de Jure Belli Relectiones, ed. by E. Nys (Washington, D.C.: Carnegie Institute, 1917). These treaties
acknowledged that the “Indians Lately Discovered” were free and rational people with souls who
possessed rights under natural law just like Christians; that they were “true owners alike in public and
in private law” of their lands and property such that the title of first discovery only applied to vacant
and not to inhabited lands; and that the Law of Nations was universally binding on all, including the
Indian nations, whereby its transgression could justify conquest and colonization. See also R. A. Wil-
liams, Jr., The American Indian in Western Legal Thought: The Discourses of Conquest (New York:
Oxford University Press, 1990);
.S. Cohen, “The Spanish Origin of Indian Rights in the Law of the
United States” (1942) 31 Geo. L.J. 1; and papal bull Sublimis Deus issued by Pope Paul m in 1537.
” For early usages of this terminology, see e.g.: Royal Proclamation, 1763 (U.K.), 3 Geo. 3, re-
printed in R.S.C. 1985, App. I (Constitutional Acts and Documents); Worcester v. Georgia, 31 U.S.
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soil”.’ While a doctrine of discovery was elaborated to justify assertions of underlying
title and “to avoid conflicting settlements and consequent war”‘ among the European
claimant states, this doctrine did not per se invalidate either the title or the sovereignty
of the Indian nations; rather it “gave to the nation making the discovery the sole right
of acquiring the soil from the natives”.! In recent years, the Supreme Court of Canada
has confirmed this recognition of both aboriginal title and original Indian nationhood.
In Calder v. British Columbia (A.G.),’ both sides of the split decision acknowledged
that aboriginal title was accepted by the common law. Hall J. supported the continued
existence of the Nisga’a Nation’s aboriginal title on the basis that their traditional terri-
tory had “been in their possession from time immemorial,”9 while Judson J. phrased it
as simply a function of historical fact:
Although I think that it is clear that Indian title in British Columbia cannot owe
its origin to the Proclamation of 1763, the fact is that when the settlers came,
the Indians were there, organized in societies and occupying the land as their
forefathers had done for centuries. This is what Indian title means and it does
not help one in the solution of this problem to call it a “personal or usufructu-
ary right”.”
By 1990 a unanimous Court was comfortable describing the post-contact relationship
between Great Britain and Indian nations in Canada as nation-to-nation relations with
treaties forged as solemn agreements that “cannot be extinguished without the consent
of the Indians concerned”.”
Despite such lofty pronouncements, the rights and obligations of the parties to this
Crown-Aboriginal relationship remain largely uncharted. The political and legal pa-
rameters of this relationship were, in many ways from an Aboriginal perspective,
clearer during the first 200 years than they have been for the last two centuries.” The
(6 Pet.) 515 (1832) at 542, Marshall CJ. [hereinafter Worcester]; Sioui v. Qudbec (A.G.), [1990] 1
S.C.R. 1025, 70 D.L.R. (4th) 427 [hereinafter Sioui cited to S.C.R.]; and Treaty of Niagara of 1764,
discussed in J. Burrows, “Wampum at Niagara: The Royal Proclamation, Canadian Legal History,
and Self-Government” in M. Asch, ed., Aboriginal and Treaty Rights in Canada: Essays on Law,
Equity and RespectforDifference (Vancouver: UBC Press, 1997) 155.
5 Johnson v. M’Intosh, 21 U.S. (8 Wheat.) 543 (1823) at 573, Marshall C.J. [hereinafter M’Intosh],
frequently quoted with approval by Canadian and Australian courts and most recently by Lamer C.J.
in R. v. Van der Peet, [1996] 2 S.C.R. 507, 137 D.L.R. (4th) 289 at 542 [hereinafter Van der Peet cited
to S.C.R.].
6 M’Intosh, ibid at 573.
7 Ibid
‘ [1973] S.C.R. 313,34 D.L.R. (3d) 145 [hereinafter Calder cited to S.C.R.].
9Ibid at 375.
“0 Ibid. at 328.
“Sioui, supra note 4 at 1063, Lamer J. (as he then was).
z Relations confirmed by the early treaties of peace and friendship of the seventeenth and eight-
eenth centuries with the Mi’kmaq Nation of the Maritimes and the covenant chain with the
Haudenoshonee (later re-affirmed by the Royal Proclamation of 1763, supra note 4, and the Niagara
Treaty of 1764, supra note 4) were clearer in establishing military and trade ties while recognizing the
internal autonomy or sovereignty of each party. See P.C. Williams, The Chain (LL.M. thesis, York
University, 1982).
1997]
B. W MORSE – R. V PAMAJEWON
1015
Supreme Court of Canada has had a significant number of opportunities over the past
twenty-five years to elucidate the guiding legal principles to this relationship. Nonethe-
less, the members of our highest court have failed to enunciate these principles or to
restore some desperately needed balance to the Aboriginal-Crown relationship. At the
end of the twentieth century, we have yet to see any increase in clarity or practical
guidance beyond issues concerned with Aboriginal fishing and hunting rights. Princi-
ples described as fundamental by the Court, such as the fiduciary obligation of the
Crown in right of Canada and of the provinces or “the honour of the Crown is always
at stake!’,” are applied so haphazardly as to prompt one commentator (of Badger’) to
refer to the fiduciary concept as a “judicial jingle”.”
Admittedly, the Court in R. v. Sparrow” did state that “there was from the outset
never any doubt, that sovereignty and legislative power, and indeed the underlying ti-
This quote can, however, be readily inter-
tie, to such lands vested in the Crown .
preted as following in the footsteps of Chief Justice Marshall’s comments in the
Cherokee Cases trilogy,” which have been regularly cited with approval in the context
of aboriginal title and other aboriginal rights by the Supreme Court, including in Spar-
row itself. Marshall C.J. also had declared that “their rights to complete sovereignty, as
independent nations, were necessarily diminished ‘”‘ yet he recognized that Indian na-
tions retained their residual sovereignty as “domestic dependent nations”.”
Nowhere is a missed opportunity more apparent than in Pamajewon’ The right of
Aboriginal peoples to govern themselves has been a dominant theme in Canadian po-
litical discourse since patriation in 1982.22 It has been the focal point of four First Min-
rum 21.
” R. v. Badger, [1996] 1 S.C.R. 771, 133 D.L.R. (4th) 324 at 794 [hereinafter Badger].
14 Ibid.
‘5 C. Bell, “R. v. Badger One Step Forward and Two Steps Back?” (1997) 8:2 Constitutional Fo-
6 [1990] 1 S.C.R. 1075, 70 D.L.R. (4th) 385 [hereinafter Sparrow cited to S.C.R.].
“Ibid. at 1103.
“M’Intosh, supra note 5; Cherokee Nation v. Georgia, 30 U.S. (5 Pet.) 1 (1831) [hereinafter
Cherokee Nation]; and Worcester, supra note 4.
” M’Intosh, ibid. at 573.
20 Cherokee Nation, supra note 17 at 16. Chief Justice Marshall regarded the Cherokee Nation as a
political state as he noted: “So much of the argument as was intended to prove the character of the
Cherokees as a state, as a distinct political society, separated from others, capable of managing its
own affairs and governing itself, has, in the opinion of a majority of the judges, been completely suc-
cessful” (ibid. at 15). He subsequently decided that the Cherokee Nation was neither “a foreign state”
(ibid. at 19) nor “a state of the union” (ibid. at 15) and he was, therefore, unable to invoke the original
jurisdiction of the Court to restrain Georgia’s attempt to impose its legislative power within Cherokee
territory.
2, R. v. Pamajewon, [1996] 2 S.C.R. 821, 138 D.L.R. (4th) 204, 50 C.R. (4th) 216 [hereinafter
Pamajewon cited to S.C.R.].
2 “Patriation” occurred by virtue of the Canada Act 1982 (U.K.), 1982, c. 11, which, inter alia, en-
acted the Constitution Act, 1982, being Schedule B to the Canada Act 1982, ibid. As a result of that
enactment, the Canadian constitution is fully amendable within Canada and all vestiges of British
legislative sovereignty over Canada have ended. For a brief description of patriation, see P.W. Hogg,
Constitutional Law of Canada, 4th abr. stud. ed. (Toronto: Carswell, 1996) at 53-58.
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isters’ Conferences in the 1980s, one special Parliamentary Committee inquiry,2′ many
books,’ conferences and scholarly papers too numerous to mention. In addition, it has
been the subject of extensive media coverage, prolonged negotiations and was a central
component of the Charlottetown Accord, rejected by Canadians through a national ref-
erendum in 19922 In spite of this extraordinary level of attention,” the final court of
appeal has yet to articulate a clear statement of the legal status of the right of self-
government, let alone on the scope of the right and its relationship to federal and pro-
vincial laws.
SSection 37 of the Constitution Act, 1982, ibid., originally required a First Ministers’ Conference
[hereinafter referred to as FMC] prior to 17 April 1983. The FMC that was convened resulted in a
political accord that mandated a further FMC within a year and a constitutional amendment resolution
that was enacted requiring two further FMCs (held in 1985 and 1987).
2′ Canada, House of Commons, Special Committee on Indian Self-Government, Indian Self-
Government in Canada: Report of the Special Committee (Ottawa: Queen’s Printer, 1983), better
known as the Penner Report.
‘ See e.g.: L. Little Bear et aL, eds., Pathways to Seif-Determination: Canadian Indians and the
Canadian State (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1984); M. Asch, Home and Native Land:
Aboriginal Rights and the Canadian Constitution (Toronto: Methuen, 1984); K. Banting & R.
Simeon, eds., And No One Cheered: Federalism, Democracy, and the Constitution Act (Toronto:
Methuen, 1983); M. Boldt et al., eds., The Quest for Justice: Aboriginal Peoples and Aboriginal
Rights (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1985); B. Clark, Native Liberty, Crown Sovereignty:
The Existing Aboriginal Right of Self-Government in Canada (Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University
Press, 1990); Canada, Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples, The Right of Aboriginal Self-
Government and the Constitution: A Commentary (Ottawa: The Commission, 1992); Canada, Royal
Commission on Aboriginal Peoples, Partners in Confederation: Aboriginal Peoples, Self-
Government, and the Constitution (Ottawa: Supply and Services, 1993); and an extensive collection
of publications on Aboriginal Self-Government of the Institute of Intergovernmental Relations at
Queen’s University.
26 Constitutional-reform discussions were launched by the Government of Canada in September
1991 through the public release of proposals for discussion (Government of Canada, Shaping Can-
ada’s Future Together (Ottawa: Supply and Services Canada, 1991)). The federal minister for consti-
tutional affairs, the Rt. Hon. Joe Clark, initiated intense negotiations in March 1992 among premiers
and ministers from the provinces and territories, as well as the leaders of the four national Aboriginal
political organisations. After protracted negotiations involving considerable compromise by all par-
ties, an agreement on proposed constitutional amendments was reached by all 17 first ministers and
Aboriginal leaders – the Charlottetown Accord (Canada, Consensus Report on the Constitution:
Charlottetown (Final Text, 28 August 1992) (Ottawa: Minister of Supply and Services, 1992)).
Among other constitutional amendments, the Accord confirmed an inherent right to self-government
with a negotiating process concerning implementation details and established a treaty-clarification
mechanism, but a national referendum on 25 October 1992 rejected the proposals.
27 This recital omits a great deal, including several statutes and many bilateral and trilateral proto-
cols germane to this topic. For examples of negotiated arrangements that authorize forms of self-
government without fully recognizing the right of self-government as such, see Cree-Naskapi (of
Quebec) Act, S.C. 1984, c.18; Sechelt Indian Band Self-Government Act, S.C. 1986, c.27; and Yukon
First Nations Self-Government Act, S.C. 1994, c.35. More recent approaches that reflect inherent-
right language to a degree include: Nisga’a Treaty Negotiations Agreement-in- Principle, 22 March
1996, Nisga’a Tribal Council – Canada – British Columbia; and Protocol Agreement to Establish a
Common Table, 30 October 1996, Federation of Saskatchewan Indian Nations – Canada – Saskatche-
wan.
1997]
B1 W. MORSE- R. v PAMAJEWON
1017
Although far from an ideal test case (and perhaps the worst possible), Pamajewon
presented a perfect opportunity’ to proffer some degree of judicial illumination on this
crucial topic. It represented the first occasion in which First Nations asserted an inher-
ent right to self-government as the central ground for appeal.
At the time, the Supreme Court was fully immersed in Aboriginal legal issues:
Pamajewon was one of a collection of nine cases before the Court, eight of which in-
volved arguments concerning the scope of section 35(1) of the Constitution Act, 1982.9
While the other appeals concerned hunting” or fishing’ rights, the judges were none-
theless steeped in the debate over the meaning of aboriginal and treaty rights and over
the significance of their constitutional recognition and affirmation in section 35(1).
The significance of this case is evidenced by the cast of intervenors. Five provin-
cial attorneys general and the Attorney General of Canada chose to intervene while
the Attorney General of Ontario was the respondent in the case. The intervenors in
support of the appellants were two regional associations of First Nations,” a First Na-
tion which had previously been acquitted of charges in a similar situation, ‘ and Del-
gamuukw, the appellant in a major aboriginal title and self-government case on appeal
to the Supreme Court from the British Columbia Court of Appeal.” Given the national
importance of the primary issue on appeal, the fact that this was the first instance that
an inherent right to self-government had been argued before the highest court, and the
depth of experience developed by the members of the bench in dealing with so many
Aboriginal cases during the same term, the scant reasons and the weakness of the
analysis are particularly disappointing?’
2 An earlier opportunity had been sidestepped by the Supreme Court in Isaac v. Davey, [1977] 2
S.C.R. 897,77 D.L.R. (3d) 481.
29 Supra note 22.
30 Badger, supra note 13.
31R. v. Nikal, [1996] 1 S.C.R. 1013, 133 D.L.R. (4th) 658; R. v. Lewis, [1996] 1 S.C.R. 921, 133
D.L.R. (4th) 700, 105 C.C.C. (3d) 523; R. v. N.TC. Smokehouse Ltd., [1996] 2 S.C.R. 672, 137
D.L.R. (4th) 528, 109 C.C.C. (3d) 129; R. v. Gladstone, [1996] 2 S.C.R. 723, 137 D.L.R. (4th) 648
[1996] 9 W.W.R. 149; Van der Peet, supra note 5; R. v. Adams, [1996] 3 S.C.R. 101, 138 D.L.R. (4th)
657, 110 C.C.C. (3d) 122; and R. v. Cbtg, [1996] 3 S.C.R. 139, 138 D.L.R. (4th) 385, 110 C.C.C.
(3d)122.
32 The Attorneys General of Quebec, Manitoba, Saskatchewan, Alberta and British Columbia all
filed facta and appeared through counsel at the hearing in support of the respondent’s position. None
of the other eight cases had attracted more than three attorneys general.
” The Assembly of Manitoba Chiefs and the Federation of Saskatchewan Indian Nations
(“ES.I.N.”) intervened in support of the appellants’ position, although with separate arguments.
” White Bear First Nation was represented by the same counsel as ES.I.N. See R. v. Bear Claw
Casino Ltd., [1994] 4 C.N.L.R. 81 (Sask. Prov. Ct.).
33 Delgamuukw v. British Columbia (A.G.), [1993] 5 W.W.R. 97, 104 D.L.R. (4th) 470 (B.C.C.A.),
leave to appeal to S.C.C. granted [hereinafter Delganuukw cited to D.L.R.].
36 The appellants must have been especially dissatisfied with the decision they received, since they
had gone to great lengths to ensure that their interests were well protected when they intervened in the
Van der Peet trilogy of cases (Van der Peet, supra note 5; R. v. Gladstone, supra note 31; and R. v.
N.TC. Smokehouse Ltd., supra note 31). Pamajewon was heard on 26 February 1996, after seven of
the other eight cases had already been argued (of this group of cases only R. v. Ct, supra note 31,
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[1997
One cannot truly appreciate the lost opportunity that this judgment represents
without understanding more of the background to the case and the broader dimensions
to the issues raised.
I. Background
A. Aboriginal Economic Realities
The poverty and despair that grips far too many First Nations in Canada, as well as
too many Mdtis and Inuit communities, is blatant, tragic and depressingly well-
documented.” The necessity to foster massive economic growth for Aboriginal com-
munities is obvious, but the means to do so are often not clear. While increased federal
and provincial funding is required, strategies to promote economic development for
most Aboriginal communities often stumble as soon as they encounter practical realities.
Most of the over 630 First Nations in Canada are situated in rural or remote regions of
the country with extremely small land bases.” They possess 2,370 reserves, to which ti-
tle is usually in the name of the Crown for their use and benefit, totalling 7.4 million
acres – or less than one percent of Canada’s land mass?’ While usually situated within
their traditional territory and surrounded by extensive holdings of Crown lands, First
Nations rarely have recognized rights to harvest or to develop the surface and subsurface
natural-resource wealth that is adjacent to their meagre landholdings. Distance from
markets and population centres coupled with inadequate transportation systems’ and
had yet to be argued; it was heard on 17 June 1996). Voluminous facta had been filed, including an
early copy of a report on Aboriginal justice of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples that was
publicly released shortly after the hearing (Canada, Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples,
Bridging the Cultural Divide: A Report on Aboriginal People and Criminal Justice in Canada
(Ottawa: Canada Supply and Services, 1996)). Eighteen counsel appeared before the Court. Despite
the foregoing, the appeal was dismissed from the bench, with written reasons following almost six
months later – one day after the decisions in the Van der Peet trilogy.
” For detailed information in this regard, see Penner Report, supra note 24; Minister of Indian Af-
fairs and Northern Affairs, Indian Conditions: A Survey (Ottawa: Minister of Indian Affairs and
Northern Development, 1980); and Canada, Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples:
Gathering Strength, vol. 3 (Ottawa: Canada Communications Group, 1996) (Co-chairs: R. Dussault
& G. Erasmus).
“‘ At least in terms of the lands that are recognized by the Crown as set aside for their exclusive use
pursuant to the Indian Act, R.S.C. 1985, c. 1-5, or some other mechanism.
Indian
(Ottawa:
and Northern Affairs Canada,
‘9 Indian and Northern Affairs Canada, “Indians in Canada and the United States –
Information
Sheet”
at
http://www.inac.gc.ca/pubsfmformationinfo37.html. It should be noted that through ten comprehen-
sive claims settlements reached in Northern Canada since 1975, a further 143 million acres are now
set aside for exclusive use of the Aboriginal signatories to these ten settlements. Although titled these
lands are not held by the Crown as reserves pursuant to the Indian Act nor do they benefit the vast
majority of Fust Nations, ibid
available
1996)
at 2;
, Over 100 First Nations do have train lines running through their reserves, but almost none have
freight or passenger stations; numerous First Nations are fly-in communities for at least part of the
year
1997]
B. W MORSE – R. V PAMAJEWON
1019
sources of energy” leave the vast majority of First Nations in a position in which stan-
dard engines for economic self-sufficiency, such as manufacturing, service industries or
natural-resource extraction, are simply not viable. It is similarly unlikely that high-
technology industries will choose to locate in rural and remote First Nations communi-
ties even though the information highway has arrived.’ In addition, the overwhelming
majority of First Nations have populations under 1000 people, making it impossible to
sustain many consumer-based businesses or to offer a labour force of sufficient size to
be attractive to external investment. First Nations in this situation are compelled to seek
economic opportunities outside the lands they control,3 or else to find a niche market
that will overcome their disadvantages.” To date there are too few of these opportunities
to remedy the massive unemployment and underemployment that exist in almost all
Aboriginal communities.
B. Gaming
1. The American Experience
One industry that has gained the reputation of generating significant employment
and wealth is gambling. Aboriginal people in Canada have heard about, and often vis-
ited, Indian tribal gaming facilities that have been flourishing in somewhat analogous
circumstances in the United States for over a decade. The huge numbers of non-Indian
gamblers attracted, jobs created and businesses started, and the massive profits gener-
ated for community development and further investment, have sparked considerable
excitement over the prospect of pursuing the same approach on this side of the border.
The attraction of gaming is especially evident to First Nations in Canada when the op-
erators in the U.S. are members of the same language family, or even members of the
same original nation, butjust living on the south side of the medicine line.
Indian gaming has exploded in the United States since the Seminole tribe in Flor-
ida opened the first large commercial bingo hall in 1979. The litigation that immedi-
ately followed resulted in a clear victory for tribal governmental authority in most cir-
cumstances.” State-tribal conflict over gaming jurisdiction ensued in many parts of the
country, with the tribes winning almost all of the court battles but to some degree los-
‘ A surprising number of First Nations rely upon diesel generators or low voltage electrical trans-
mission lines for basic energy needs, even though some have high voltage powerlines traversing their
lands.
” Industry Canada, in conjunction with Indian and Northern Affairs Canada and most First Nations,
is in the process of linking all First Nations schools to the Internet via “schoolnet”. See generally
“First nations schools go international” (1996) 14:1 Windspeaker 39.
“‘ Such as forestry co-management agreements with the Crown, impact-benefit agreements with
major mining companies, or employment-equity agreements with petroleum companies.
For example, eco-tourism or big game hunting, for which remoteness can be an asset.
“Seminole Tribe of Florida v. Butterworth, 658 F2d 310 (5th Cir. 1981), cert. denied, 455 U.S.
1020, (1982).
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ing within the mainstream political arena.” In 1988, Congress intervened to restrain
tribal autonomy by enacting the Indian Gaming Regulatory Act (I.G.R.A.).f The
I.G.R.A. provided for tribal-state compacts concerning certain operations and estab-
lished a National Indian Gaming Commission to regulate gaming within Indian coun-
try.
Over the years, Indian gaming in the United States has expanded to involve ap-
proximately 200 tribes, generating an estimated US$2 billion in direct tribal revenues,”
with other estimates of direct and indirect revenue climbing to US$7.5 billion.” Some
of these tribes, as well as a number of the major casino operators in the U.S., have
regularly sallied forth across the border to explore opportunities for similar operations
on Canadian reserves.
2. The Canadian Experience
During the same era, Canadian provinces became major players in the gambling
industry. As a result of a federal-provincial agreement on lotteries in 1985,” the Gov-
ernment of Canada committed to vacate the field of administration of lotteries and
gambling, to dismantle Lotto Canada, to forego the sizeable revenue from this activity
and to amend the Criminal Code!’ The changes to the Code have prohibited all forms
of lotteries, bingos and other games of chance unless licensed by the province. Al-
though the criminalization of many forms of gambling was not particularly new, the
delegation to provincial governments of all regulatory matters represented a significant
departure from the past.
The fiscal crises encountered by provincial governments in the 1980s that im-
ploded in the 1990s have changed the very face of gambling in Canada.” It has evolved
from small jackpot church bingos and modest lotteries, designed to provide funds for
community improvement projects and amateur sport, to the point where every province
‘ For a review of the American litigation on Indian gaming, see K. Kickingbird, “Indian Gaming:
The Tribes Press for Regulatory Power” (1995) 12:4 The Compleat Lawyer 37; R.L. Barnes, “Indian
Gaming: Congress Sends the Tribes into a Constitutional Fray, but did it Intend to?” (1995) 64 Miss.
L.J. 591; M.D. Cox, “The Indian Gaming Regulatory Act: An Overview” (1995) 7 St. Thomas L.
Rev. 769; N. Mezey, “The Distribution of Wealth, Sovereignty, and Culture Through Indian Gaming”
(1996) 48 Stan. L. Rev. 711; and Practising Law Institute, The Gaming Industry on American Indian
Lands (New York: Practising Law Institute, 1994).
47 25 U.S.C. . 2701-2721.
” Kickingbird, supra note 46 at 45.
‘9 H.A. Monteau, “Indian Gambling Under the Indian Gaming Regulatory Act of 1988 and the
Regulations of the National Indian Gaming Commission” in 21st Annual FBA Indian Law Confer-
ence (Washington, D.C.: Federal Bar Association, 1996) 243 at 244.
-‘ Referred to in R. v. Furtney, [199113 S.C.R. 89 at 107, 66 C.C.C. (3d) 498, 8 C.R. (4th) 121.
5,R.S.C. 1985, c. C-46.
52 As an example of the transformation, gambling revenue has tripled since 1986. In fiscal year
1994-95, 3.8% of total revenue for the Ontario government was derived from lotteries, casinos and
electronic games of chance. The provincial government is estimating over $5 billion in net revenue
for fiscal year 1997-98 (B. Evenson, “Provinces Cash In On Growing Industry” Ottawa Citizen (4
September 1996) A4).
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. MORSE – R. V PAMAJEWON
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has become a regulator of gaming to generate ever-increasing and desperately needed
revenue. Provincially operated and sanctioned lotteries 3 have become multi-billion-
dollar operations and have surpassed horseracing as the primary mode of gambling in
Canada. More recently, some provinces have entered the casino business either di-
rectly, or through management contracts and licensing arrangements.’ Most provincial
governments have authorized the installation of Video Lottery Terminals (VLTs), as
successors to the slot machines or infamous “one-armed bandits” of Las Vegas fame.
Charity casinos and card-game establishments have also become popular in many ur-
ban areas across the country. No province has been fully able to resist the lure of easy
money, despite concerns about addiction to gambling and the potentially dispropor-
tionate impact upon the poor. A recent study on gaming has estimated that Canadians
spend in excess of $20 billion annually on all forms of legal gambling.”
First Nations in Canada have witnessed the activity of provincial governments and
the economic revitalization of many American Indian tribes, and have asked them-
selves, “Why not us?” Some First Nations ventured down this road around 1985 with
the introduction of “monster bingos”. These are regular bingo games played with stan-
dard rules but with significantly bigger jackpots of money. Eagle Lake First Nation in
northwestern Ontario was one of the first in Canada to start holding monster bingos in
1985, and was extremely successful in attracting busloads of players from far away.
Over the next few years, bingo and other gambling activities sprang up on other re-
serves, including Shawanaga First Nation (near Georgian Bay in Ontario), Six Nations
(adjacent to Brantford, Ontario), Dakota Tipi First Nation (outside Winnipeg), Roseau
River First Nation (southern Manitoba near the U.S. border), White Bear First Nation
(south of Regina), in the American portion of the Akwesasne-St. Regis Mohawk
community (near Cornwall, Ontario) and many others.
Monster bingos adversely affected smaller-stakes church bingos and the so-called
full-time “charitable” bingo houses, which provoked lobbying pressure on the prov-
inces to shut down the Indian bingo operations. It was the fear that First Nations would
soon move into full-service casinos, and thereby into direct competition with the
provinces, however, that sparked police intervention. Rumours that organized crime
from the United States was infiltrating Indian gaming on certain reserves in Canada in-
creased the level of attention devoted to the issue by the R.C.M.P. Anti-gambling views
are strong among many Aboriginal people,” as they are in general society, and occa-
sionally the conflict between pro- and anti-gambling factions has culminated in acts of
” Only the provinces of Quebec and Ontario fully operate their own lottery schemes. The four
western provinces and the four provinces of Atlantic Canada have established consortia to manage
their respective regional lottery operations.
” The Government of Manitoba was the first in Canada to establish a casino, located in the Fort
Gary Hotel in Winnipeg, which it continues to operate. The Governments of Quebec and, more re-
cently, Saskatchewan, have entered the casino business while Ontario and Nova Scotia have licensed
multinational casino corporations to build and to operate casinos with a profit-sharing arrangement.
” National Council of Welfare, Gambling in Canada: A Report (Ottawa: National Council of Wel-
fare, 1996) at 1.
56 See for example, the close vote on establishing a casino at Kahnawake (“Mohawks Turn Down
Casino at Kahnawake” The Toronto Star (3 July 1994) A5).
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violence and even in a death at Akwesasne in 1989. At the other end of the scale, some
First Nations operated gaming activities without local dissent or unlawful conduct –
other than the absence of a provincial license.
Negotiations were conducted between various First Nations and provincial
authorities in different regions of the country. While many of these negotiations did not
result in agreements, a number of precedent-setting compacts were concluded. The
then N.D.P. government in Ontario conducted a lengthy process over several years to
select a First Nation for a casino license. The Rama First Nation, near Orillia, was
awarded a formal license in 1994 which permitted the construction of a massive casino
resort in 1996. This casino has been phenomenally popular and profitable to date, far
surpassing the attendance at Ontario’s first casino in Windsor, and has been credited
with spurring a major injection of investment capital into the area.” The casino has not,
however, been without its troubles as the Conservative government elected in 1995
unilaterally changed the terms of the understanding between First Nations and the
province regarding profit-sharing’ The percentage of profits that was to be allocated to
a special fund to benefit other First Nations in Ontario was re-assigned to the provin-
cial treasury, sparking significant public criticism of the province and litigation.”
The federal government has consistently refused requests from First Nations to be-
come involved in this sphere. It has been repeatedly asked to amend the Criminal
Code, to introduce new legislation on Indian gaming, to recognize exclusive First Na-
tion control over gaming on reserves as an existing right, and to intervene in First Na-
tion-provincial negotiations. The government of Canada has resisted these demands as
Ji . Rankin, “The Fast Frst Days of Casino Rama” The Toronto Star (13 October 1996) Al.
58 This profit-sharing arrangement has been challenged by non-status Indians, M6tis and unrecog-
nized First Nations as they are excluded from benefiting under its terms. See Lovelace v. Ontario
(1996), 38 C.R.R. (2d) 297. This decision, although rendered three weeks after the Supreme Court’s
decision in Pamajewon, does not refer to it.
” The government of Saskatchewan and the Federation of Saskatchewan Indian Nations (ES.I.N.)
pursued a different tack and reached an overall agreement on gaming in the province. Under this
complex agreement, the provincial government and ES.I.N. are equity partners in the casino in Re-
gina while individual First Nations or a consortia of First Nations are authorized to open four casinos
in other parts of the province. Employment guarantees are included in the package as is an allocation
of some of the profits to the M6tis, to gambling-addiction programs and to other charitable purposes.
The Nova Scotia government sought an overall agreement with all thirteen Mi’kmaq First Nations in
the province but was unsuccessful after protracted negotiations. The province has offered a profit-
sharing arrangement to each First Nation individually in regards to the casino in Sydney, which has
received a modicum of acceptance.
The government of New Brunswick has also engaged in negotiations with a number of First Na-
tions and has concluded an arrangement with the Ft. Folly First Nation while gaming at Tobique First
Nation continues without provincial approval. See R. v. Bragdon (1996), 112 C.C.C. (3d) 91
(N.B.C.A.), in which the acquittal of six accused was upheld solely on the basis that being employees
of the Tobique High Stakes Bingo Hall did not constitute a sufficient degree of control required by the
offence of keeping a common gaming house under s. 20 1(1) of the Ciminal Code, supra note 51.
Efforts by several other First Nations to establish gambling houses have not yet been successful;
tentative discussions have been held by some First Nations with the provincial governments of Que-
bec, Manitoba, Alberta and British Columbia, but no agreements have yet been reached.
1997]
SB.W. MORSE- R. V PAMAJEWON
1023
it believes that the federal-provincial agreement concluded in 1985 prevents any
changes to the existing legislative arrangement without the consent of all provinces.
The federal government’s announcement of its new inherent-right policy indicates that
it is prepared to engage in negotiations on gambling as an aspect of Aboriginal govern-
ance where the Aboriginal groups and the province concerned are agreeable.’
II. Circumstances of the Cases
The Eagle Lake First Nation is a small Ojibway community of approximately 225
members near Dryden, Ontario. They are descended from the signatories of Treaty 3 in
1873 and are part of the Grand Council of Treaty 3.’ The chief and Council passed a
resolution in 1985 to enact a lottery law authorizing and regulating gaming activities
within the reserve. All profits from these enterprises were to be devoted to the benefit
of the First Nation and its members. A gaming committee was subsequently estab-
lished by the chief and Council in 1990 to review the gaming operation and its finan-
cial statements, and to account to the community.
The Eagle Lake First Nation conducted bingos on a small-scale basis five nights a
week. These were directed primarily toward band members. Once a month a “monster
bingo” was held which paid out up to $90,000 and generated net profits of $47,000 to
$50,000 per event. These events attracted crowds of up to 1000 people, many of whom
came on chartered buses. Annual profits were estimated at $1.2 million and the opera-
tion provided six full-time and fifteen part-time jobs to band members. The profits
earned over the years were used to help the First Nation build a community arena, a re-
sort, a lodge, a conference centre and a local school with a gymnasium. Profits were
also allocated to subsidize the construction and renovation of homes for band mem-
bers.
Officials of the Ontario Lotteries Commission and the Ministry of Consumer and
Commercial Relations approached the First Nation to discuss the provincial require-
ments for a license. The First Nation adopted the position that it had the exclusive right
to govern its own affairs, which included regulating all economic enterprises within the
reserve. It was asserted that this right of self-government was protected by the terms of
Treaty 3 and recognized by section 35(1) of the Constitution Act, 1982. The First Na-
tion was aware of the Ontario government’s position that operating bingos without a
provincial license was a violation of the Criminal Code. The First Nation also knew
that the province limited the size of prizes that could be awarded by licensed bingo
‘ Minister of Indian Affairs and Northern Development, Aboriginal Self-Government: Federal
Policy Guide- The Government of Canada’s Approach to Implementation of the Inherent Right and
the Negotiation of Aboriginal Self-Government (Ottawa: Public Works and Government Services
Canada, 1995) at 6.
6, Treaty 3 was negotiated between the government of Canada and Ojibway leaders in 1873 and
covers a large portion of northwestern Ontario, from the Great Lakes to the Manitoba border. Treaty 3
and its legal effect was the basis for the landmark lawsuit of St. Catherine’s Milling and Lumber Co.
v. R. (1888), 14 A.C. 46 (J.C.P.C.).
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halls, thereby eliminating the competitive edge that monster bingos provided and
minimizing the attraction for off-reserve participants.
The Shawanaga First Nation Council passed its own lottery law in 1987 and estab-
lished a lottery authority to regulate gambling activities at its newly constructed rec-
reation complex. Before gambling began, officials of the Ontario Lotteries Commis-
sion and the Ontario Provincial Police met with the First Nation’s representatives to
discuss licensing. The Commission offered a license, but it was refused by the First
Nation under the belief that accepting such a license could undermine its position re-
garding an inherent right to self-government. The First Nation intended to conduct
high-stakes bingos on weekends, to attract off-reserve players and to maximize profits,
although it knew that these were contrary to provincial restrictions on the size of pay-
outs.
The Shawanaga First Nation commenced its gambling operations in September
1987 and continued them on most weekends until October 1990. The gambling con-
sisted of regular and monster jackpots, as well as Nevada break-open tickets, blackjack
and wheels of fortune. Advertisements were run in newspapers in Sudbury, North Bay,
Toronto and Oshawa with regularly organized bus tours. As a result, the majority of
participants came from outside the reserve.
A. R. v. Jones and Pamajewon
Howard Pamajewon and Roger Jones were both charged with the offence of
keeping a common gaming house contrary to section 201(1) of the Criminal Code,
which states:
201.(1) Every one who keeps a common gaming house or common betting
house is guilty of an indictable offence and liable to imprisonment for a term
not exceeding two years. 2
Roger Jones was chief of the First Nation and Howard Pamajewon a councillor who
subsequently became chief. Although not the only individuals involved in the enter-
prise, they were charged in their defacto representative capacity; it was a test case and
they were bingo callers and therefore suited to assume legal responsibility on behalf of
the Shawanaga First Nation.
B. R. v. Gardner, Pitchenese and Gardner
This case involved three members of the Eagle Lake First Nation who were simi-
larly viewed as possessing the legal responsibility for the First Nation as a whole. Ar-
nold Gardner was the chief and chair of the First Nation’s bingo committee while Jack
Pitchenese managed the bingo operations and Allan Gardner was the chief bingo caller
when the alleged crime took place. They were charged with conducting a scheme for
the purpose of determining the winners of property in violation of section 206(1)(d) of
the Criminal Code, which reads:
62 Supra note 51, s. 201.(1).
1997]
B. W. MORSE – R. v PAMAJEWON
1025
206.(1) Every one is guilty of an indictable offence and liable to imprisonment
for a term not exceeding two years who
(d) conducts or manages any scheme, contrivance or operation of any kind for
the purpose of determining who, or the holders of what lots, tickets, numbers or
chances, are the winners of any property so proposed to be advanced, lent,
given, sold or disposed of; ..
Ill. The Trials
A. R. v. Jones and Pamajewon
The accused appeared before Justice Carr of the Ontario Provincial Court in Sud-
bury in early 1993. They submitted three main arguments in their defence, namely:
(i)
that the Crown had not established all of the essential elements of the charge;
(ii) that at all material times the defendants were in de facto possession of the
sovereign power over their reserve in which the alleged crime took place and
were, therefore, protected by section 15 of the Criminal Code;” and
(iii) that the First Nation had the inherent right to govern itself such that the laws
of Canada generally and section 201 of the Criminal Code in particular were in-
operative in reference to them and their First Nation.
The defence submitted the Robinson Huron Treaty of 1850′ as a demonstration of
their nationhood status and its recognition as such by the other party to the treaty, the
Imperial Crown. The Shawanaga First Nation lottery law was also presented to the
court in support of the argument that the First Nation had exercised its sovereign
authority in this field.
Car J. convicted the accused and imposed a fine of $1500 on each.’ He rejected
the first defence, concluding that the essential elements had been proven. He also re-
jected the sovereignty argument tied to section 15 of the Criminal Code on the basis
that the Shawanaga lottery law did not require the accused to engage in gaming since it
was merely permissive rather than obligatory. He went on to say:
6′ IbiL, s. 206.(1).
Ibid, s. 15:
No person shall be convicted of an offence in respect of an act or omission in obedi-
ence to the laws for the time being made and enforced by persons in de facto posses-
sion of the sovereign power in and over the place where the act or omission occurs.
6′ Contained in A. Morris, The Treaties of Canada with the Indians of Manitoba and the North-West
Territories (Toronto: Belfords, Clarke, 1880; reprinted Toronto: Coles, 1971) at 305-09.
6R. v. Jones and Pamajewon [1993] 3 C.N.L.R. 209 (Ont. Prov. Div.).
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Furthermore, the defendants have not shown that the band council which
passed the Shawanaga lottery law possessed actual (or de facto) and independ-
ent and supreme (or sovereign power) in and over the place where the act oc-
curred, or that the laws were enforced or even capable of being enforced by the
band council.’7
Carr J. relied upon the reasoning in Sparrow8 to conclude that the Crown could
unilaterally extinguish existing aboriginal rights prior to 1982, which would encom-
pass the aboriginal right of self-government asserted by the defence. The test set out by
Sparrow was that the Crown needed to demonstrate a clear and plain intent to extin-
guish, which the Court found evidenced through the Royal Proclamation of 1763,
the
Robinson Huron Treaty and the grant of exclusive jurisdiction to Parliament over
“Indians, and Lands reserved for the Indians” under section 91(24) of the Constitution
Act, 1867. 0
B. R. v. Gardner, Pitchenese and Gardner
The defendants in this case argued that section 206 of the Criminal Code violated
the right of self-government constitutionally protected by section 35(1) and was of no
force and effect in reference to them and the Eagle Lake First Nation. Justice Flaherty
was sympathetic to the economic plight which confronted this First Nation. He con-
cluded from the evidence that the bingos were professionally operated, caused no so-
cial problems, and generated profits which contributed significantly to the commu-
nity’s welfare. Nevertheless, he convicted all three accused and fined each of them
$1500.’ He accepted the limited evidence introduced that gambling was part of Ojib-
way culture and heritage; however, he viewed the high-stakes bingo operation of Eagle
Lake First Nation as a twentieth century phenomenon that was not an aboriginal right
within the scope of section 35(1). He firther declared that the Criminal Code applied
throughout Canada, both on and off First Nations territory, and could not be struck
down through assertion of a right of self-government.
IV. The Ontario Court of Appeal Decision
All the convictions were appealed and joined before the Court of Appeal. The ar-
gument was recast and the central issue submitted by the appellants was whether the
two First Nations had a constitutionally protected right to manage their own economic
affairs on their reserve lands. It was argued that this general right to control their
economies was an incident of their continuing aboriginal title to their reserves, which
authorized them to make decisions affecting the economic viability of their communi-
ties, subject to their own laws as confirmed by their respective treaties with the Crown.
7 Ibid. at 211.
6
‘8Sparrow, supra note 16.
Supra note 4.
70(U.K.), 30 & 31 Vict., c. 3.
(19 November 1993), (Ont. Prov. Ct. ) [unreported].
1997]
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1027
The appellants also submitted that this general economic right was a component of
their overall right of self-government.
The common position then was not one based on absolute sovereignty, as it was
characterized at the Pamajewon and Jones trial. Rather, the premise was concurrent
governance rights, First Nations’ lottery laws being analogous to the provincial licens-
ing scheme authorized by section 207 of the Criminal Code.’ The appellants argued
that Parliament had erred in delegating the right to regulate gaming solely to the prov-
inces and thereby violated their section 35(1) right of self-government. As such, they
asked that Part VII of the Criminal Code –
“Disorderly Houses, Gaming and Belting”
be declared unenforceable in reference to the two First Nations and to them indi-
–
vidually.
Justice Osborne, for the Court,’ reviewed the facts, trial decisions and the histori-
cal evolution of criminal law on gaming in Canada before addressing the two founda-
tions for the right asserted. He emphasized, on several occasions, that the activity in-
volved was “high stakes gambling” dependant largely upon the participation of non-
Aboriginal patrons.
In dealing with the aboriginal title issue, he drew a parallel between the position of
the Crown in right of Ontario in this appeal with the position of the province of British
Columbia in the Delgamuukw7″ appeal; the existence of aboriginal title was not chal-
lenged but its scope at common law was far narrower than that proposed by the appel-
lants in both cases. Osborne J.A. re-confirmed that aboriginal rights, including aborigi-
nal title, exist at common law and are enforceable. ‘ He defined aboriginal rights as
communal in nature, although exercisable by individual members who have an historic
and traditional basis within a territory.” He adopted the observations of Macfarlane J.A.
(for the majority) in Delgamuukw on the essential nature of aboriginal title and rights,
where he said:
The essential nature of an aboriginal right stems from occupation and use. The
right attaches to land occupied and used by aboriginal peoples as their tradi-
tional home prior to the assertion of sovereignty … Aboriginal rights are fact
and site specific. They are rights which are integral to the distinctive culture of
an aboriginal society. The nature and content of the right, and the area within
which the right was exercised are questions of fact.
Osborne J.A. concluded that aboriginal title cannot give rise to the broad aborigi-
nal right to manage the use of reserve land as asserted by the appellants because abo-
” Supra note 51.
7’R. v. Gardner, R. v. Jones (1994), 21 O.R. (3d) 385, 120 D.L.R. (4th) 475 (Ont. C.A.) [hereinafter
Gardner and Jones cited to D.L.R.]. Mr. Justice Blair retired on 31 August 1994 and took no part in
the judgment delivered on 21 December 1994 by Chief Justice Dubin and Osborne J.A.
74 Supra note 35.
” Supra note 73 at 488 (relying in particular upon Calder, supra note 8; Sparrow, supra note 16;
Guerin v. Canada, [1984] 2 S.C.IR 335, 13 D.L.R. (4th) 321; and Mabo v. Queensland [No. 2]
(1992), 107 A.L.R. 1, 175 C.L.R. 1, [1992] 5 C.N.L.R. I (Aust. H. Ct.) [hereinafter Mabo]).
76 Ibid.
77Ibid at 489 [emphasis added by Osborne J.A.].
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riginal title had to be more narrowly conceived as activity and site specific. This meant
that the aboriginal right in issue was high-stakes gambling, and there was no evidence
that it constituted a part of the First Nations’ historic culture and traditions or an aspect
of their traditional use of their land.
The aboriginal right of self-government argument received short shrift as Osborne
J.A. relied upon the passing comments in Sparrow that “there was from the outset
never any doubt that sovereignty and legislative power, and indeed the underlying title,
to such lands vested in the Crown”‘ as a full answer to the claim. While he was pre-
pared to assume that some rights of self-government still existed in 1982 for these two
First Nations, the specific aspects of the right had to be proven just like other claimed
aboriginal rights –
through the provision of evidence to show that the activity was a
continuation of an historic practice. In his view there was no evidence of historic in-
volvement in high-stakes gambling or in its regulation by the Aboriginal groups con-
cerned.
Osborne J.A. elaborated that since Part VII of the Criminal Code had been upheld
by the Supreme Court of Canada as valid criminal law,” then “any regulatory rights
which the First Nations might have exercised in respect of gambling, have been extin-
guished by Parliament’s exercise of its criminal law power.”‘” In the absence of suffi-
cient evidence to support the right within the confines determined by the Court, it was
clearly unnecessary to declare that the asserted right had been extinguished.
Justice Osborne did express his awareness of the “precarious economic circum-
stances” of the two First Nations and the need to remedy their “economic plight”, yet
this was a matter for “political negotiations” and could not be used to justify constitu-
tional protection for activities defined as criminal by valid legislative authority.
V. The Supreme Court of Canada Decision
Leave to appeal was granted by the Supreme Court; the question before the Court
was:
Are s.201, s.206 or s.207 of the Criminal Code, separately or in combination,
of no force or effect with respect to the appellants, by virtue of s.52 of the
Constitution Act, 1982 in the circumstances of these proceedings, by reason of
the aboriginal or treaty rights within the meaning of section 35 of the Constitu-
tion Act, 1982 invoked by the appellants?
The Court was of the view that the case turned on the proper application of the test
laid out in Van der Peet,” a decision released by the Court only one day earlier and
therefore not in existence when the appeal was dismissed orally. Chief Justice Lamer
described Van der Peet as establishing the test “for determining the aboriginal rights
78 Supra note 16 at 1103.
“Seesupranote50. R.v.Furtney, [1991] 3 S.C.R. 89, 66C.C.C. (3d) 498, 8C.R. (4th) 121.
so Gardner and Jones, supra note 73 at 492.
“‘ Van der Peet, supra note 5.
1997]
B.W MORSE – R. v PAMAJEWON
1029
recognized and affirmed by section 35(1)”‘ which he rephrased as “the test for deter-
mining the practices, traditions or customs which fall within section 35(1).””3 In his
view, the same legal standard applies to all claims regarding aboriginal rights; the
broad right of self-government or the narrower right of a First Nation to regulate
gambling should be tested in the same way as the individual right to fish for food. The
Chief Justice assumed that section 35(1) includes the right of self-government without
deliberating on this point. He stated that “claims to self-government are no different
from other claims to the enjoyment of aboriginal rights and must as such be measured
against the same standard.”‘ Thus, the claimed right must be considered in light of the
purposes underlying section 35(1) and assessed against the new test in Van der Peet for
identifying aboriginal rights:
in order to be an aboriginal right an activity must be an element of a practice,
custom or tradition, integral to the distinctive culture of the aboriginal group
claiming the right’u
Lamer C.J. further declared that in applying this test the first step is to “identify the
exact nature of the activity claimed to be a right.”86 The second step is to decide if the
evidence submitted proves that the “activity could be said to be ‘a defining feature of
the culture in question’ prior to contact with Europeans.”‘
Implementing the first step was guided by the decision in Van der Peet, as Lamer
C.J. again quoted it as definitive for the correct characterization of the claim, by con-
sidering: the nature of the action protected by the claimed right; “the nature of the gov-
ernmental regulation, statute or action being impugned”;’ and “the practice, custom or
tradition being relied upon to establish the right.”‘
He found that the appellants were involved in gambling, that the two First Nations
sought to regulate gambling while the statutory provisions challenged criminalized
gambling, and that the evidence relied upon to show the existence of the aboriginal
2 Pamejewon, supra note 21 at 832.
83 Ibid
Ibid at 832-33.
85 Van der Peet, supra note 5 at 549. This test was created through a significant rewriting of Spar-
row, supra note 16. See J. Borrows, “The Trickster. Integral to a Distinctive Culture” (1997) 8:2
Constitutional Forum 27; L.I. Rotman, “Hunting for Answers in a Strange Kettle of Fish: Unilateral-
ism, Paternalism and Fiduciary Rhetoric in Badger and Van der Peet’ (1997) 8:2 Constitutional Fo-
rum 40; and R.L. Barsh & J.Y. Henderson, “The Supreme Court’s Van der Peet Trilogy: Naive Impe-
rialism and Ropes of Sand” (1997) 42 McGill L.J. 993. The application of this test has been severely
criticized by K. McNeil, “How Can Infringements of the Constitutional Rights of Aboriginal Peoples
Be Justified?” (1997) 8:2 Constitutional Forum 33. Professor McNeil persuasively argues that the
Court has improperly indicated that constitutionally protected aboriginal rights can be balanced
against non-constitutional interests of other Canadians as an element of promoting an overall recon-
ciliation.
86Pamajewon, supra note 21 at 833.
Ibid [reference omitted].
88 Ibid. It is unclear from this wording if Aboriginal governmental laws would be included within
this part of the test or if only non-Aboriginal governments were presumed to be relevant
89 Ibid
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right was historical evidence of Ojibway gaming. Thus, he characterized the right
claimed as “the right to participate in, and to regulate, gambling activities on their re-
spective reserve lands.” Lamer CJ. therefore rejected the appellants’ framing of the
claim as a right to manage their lands as excessively general.
Justice L’Heureux-Dub6 disagreed in part on this issue, as she had in the Van der
Peet trilogy. While she agreed that the claim submitted by the appellants was too
broad, she declared that Lamer C.J. was incorrectly focusing on the specific manner in
which the activity was conducted rather than on the activity itself. She stated that the
proper characterization is whether the two First Nations “possess an existing aborigi-
nal right to gamble.””
The Court was unaminous in the view that the appellants had failed to meet the
second step of the Van der Peet test, the “integral to the distinctive culture” component.
The only evidence presented at either trial on this issue merely indicated that gaming
was prevalent in Ojibway culture, but not that it was of central significance. Lamer C.J.
contrasted the large-scale activities in the appeal with the informal, small-scale gaming
of the past. He also stressed the lack of any evidence of the historic presence of com-
munity regulation of gaming.
L’Heureux-Dub6 J. concurred in this assessment of the evidence. She declared that
gambling had not been shown to be “connected enough to the self-identity and self-
preservation of the appellants’ aboriginal societies to deserve the protection of section
35(l)”,’ thereby adding a subjective element of worthiness to the appraisal.
As a result of the absence of necessary evidence, the Court did not need to deter-
mine whether section 35(1) encompasses an inherent right to self-government. Like-
wise, the court was not compelled to consider whether the Criminal Code had extin-
guished Aboriginal governmental control over gaming prior to 1982 or if the Criminal
Code’s provisions constituted an unjustifiable infringement of section 35(1).
VI. Commentary
Given the test for aboriginal rights that the Lamer Court has developed, the ex-
traordinarily weak expert evidence and the lack of substantive documentary or oral
evidence presented at trial to meet a test that was not yet in existence, the outcome is
not surprising. The very nature of the activity involved in this case –
high-stakes
gaming –
is not well suited to evoke a sympathetic reaction from the judiciary. The
sympathy quotient present in test-case litigation is always an important factor, and it
will be increasingly so in this sphere. The Court has articulated legal standards replete
with subjective elements for judges to weigh, lacking in clear enduring principles to
guide the effort, and based upon a museum-diorama vision of aboriginal rights, if not
of Aboriginal peoples as well.
90idbl
” Ibid at 838 [italics in original].
9″Ibid at 839 [emphasis added].
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B. W MORSE – R. v PAMAJEWON
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The Court has taken some pains to state repeatedly that it has rejected the “frozen
rights” approach to the interpretation of section 35(1). Instead it has opted for the pur-
posive approach to allow for flexibility in order to ensure that “existing aboriginal
rights” can evolve over time.’ The courts have developed a collection of principles
designed to aid in treaty and statutory interpretation as they relate to First Nations is-
sues over the past two decades.’ The Lamer Court has reiterated the importance of
these principles, indicating that they must be considered in reaching a comprehensive,
purposive analysis of section 35(1), but in developing the crucial elements of the Van
der Peet test the Court has largely ignored these principles. Aboriginal perspectives
on the meaning of aboriginal rights were defined as being equivalent in import to
non-Aboriginal views,9′ yet they barely factor into the real equation. Relying upon the
Australian High Court’s reasoning in Mabo,” traditional Aboriginal laws were said to
provide the content for aboriginal rights and aboriginal title; however, there was no
investigation of the relevant substantive Ojibway laws on the issue. Instead, the focus
was on the historic record of the cultural practices of the “pre-existing societies of
aboriginal peoples.””7 This diverted the exploration away from the more familiar de-
termination of what the legal rules are –
albeit within the context of Aboriginal law
as recognized by the common law98 –
into a judicial assessment of historical, socio-
logical and anthropological evidence of what constitutes an integral, central, signifi-
cant, defining or distinctive part of a culture that was freeze-dried at the time of con-
tact with Europeans.
The courts and the legal profession in general are poorly trained for such an explo-
ration. In addition, such an approach tells Aboriginal people that what is relevant about
them is their past – not their present or their future. Although developments subse-
quent to the point of contact must be considered, as one must prove continuity of prac-
tice, custom or tradition for the activity to have a chance of being protected in its his-
toric or modem manifestation, according to the Court, the bottom line is that the scope
of aboriginal rights has been frozen since the time of contact. This is true regardless of
how insignificant the first contact between Aboriginal peoples and Europeans may
93 See e.g. Sparrow, supra note 16 at 1093.
” One of the best descriptions of treaty interpretation principles is provided in R. v. Taylor and Wil-
liams (1981), 34 O.R. (2d) 360 (C.A.). See also R. v. Simon, [1985] 2 S.C.R. 387, 24 D.L.R (4th)
390; Siou4 supra note 4; and R. v. White and Bob (1964), 50 D.L.R. (2d) 613, 52 W.W.R. 193
(B.C.C.A.). On statutory interpretation principles, see Nowegijick v. R., [1983] 1 S.C.R. 29, 144
D.L.R. (3d) 193; and Donald George Mitchell and Milton Management Ltd. v. Peguis Indian Band,
[1990] 2 S.C.R. 85,71 D.L.R. (4th) 193.
9″ Vanz der Peet, supra note 5 at 550-5 1.
“Mabo v. Queensland [No. 2] (1992), 175 C.L.R. I (Aust. H. Ct.) at 58.
9′ Van der Peet, supra note 5 at 546.
98 Canadian courts have had some experience in determining the content of customary laws of dif-
ferent Aboriginal nations from pre-confederation days to the present, although primarily in family-
law contexts. See e.g. Connolly v. Woolrich (1867), 17 1J.R.Q. 75, 1 C.N.L.R. 70 (Sup. Ct.), aff’d
(sub nom. Johnstone v. Connolly) (1869), 17 RJ.R.Q. 266, 1 C.N.L.C. 151 (Q.B.); R. v. Nan-e-quis-a
Ka (1889), 1 Tern L.R. 211 (C.A.); Re Kitchooalik, [1972] 5 W.W.R. 203, 28 D.L.R. (3d) 483
(N.W.T.C.A.); and B.W. Morse, “Indian and Inuit Family Law and the Canadian Legal System”
(1980) 8 Am. Ind. L. Rev. 199.
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have been to the cultural development of either party, or its relevance to the effective
assertion of sovereignty subsequently by the Crown. This approach bears little resem-
blance to the way in which cultures in fact evolve, adapt and transform over time. It
also excludes what may have later become, or what may become in the future, integral
to the very survival of Aboriginal cultures.”
The Supreme Court was presented with a clear alternative vision, namely, the ap-
proach developed over one and a half centuries ago by Chief Justice Marshall of the
United States Supreme Court.'” He crafted a compromise that reflected the political
realities of a newly independent nation and a legal theory that did not shake the very
foundations of the American legal system. Despite severe and warranted criticism,
particularly from the American Indian perspective,’ Marshall C.J.’s approach has,
nevertheless, stood the test of time in the U.S., and has regularly been quoted with fa-
vour by the Supreme Court of Canada. In Van der Peet, Lamer C.J. quoted from both
M’Intosh'” and Worcester”3 at length. He chose to emphasize the following excerpt
from Worcester.
The Indian nations had always been considered as distinct, independent politi-
cal communities, retaining their original natural rights, as the undisputed pos-
sessions of the soi4 from time immemorial, with the single exception of that im-
posed by irresistible power, which excluded them from intercourse with any
other European potentate than the first discover [sic] of the coast of the par-
ticular region claimed. 4
Thereby, he acknowledged the independent political status of First Nations at the time
of contact,” as well as the continued existence of that political, not cultural, identity,
subject to the loss of complete sovereignty and the power to dispose freely of their
land.
The Marshall doctrine of domestic dependent nationhood status for American In-
dian Nations or tribes gives rise to the following key principles in the U.S. context:
(1) Indian Nations are recognized as constituting governments. They are political
entities and not merely groups, organizations or societies.
” See Borrows, supra note 85 at 28-30 for a devastating criticism.
‘0See M’Intosh, supra note 5; Cherokee Nation v. Georgia, supra note 18; and Worcester, supra
note 4.
… For critiques of Marshall C.J. and his version of the discovery doctrine as generating too rough
and unfair a compromise between Indian sovereignty and overriding Congressional power, see R.A.
Williams, Jr., “The Algebra of Federal Indian Law: The Hard Trail of Decolonizing and Americaniz-
ing the White Man’s Indian Jurisprudence” [1986] Wis. L. Rev. 219 and S. T. Newcomb, “The Evi-
dence of Christian Nationalism in Federal Indian Law: The Doctrine of Discovery, Johnson v.
M’Intosh and Plenary Power” (1993) 20 N.YU. Rev. L. & Soc. Change 303.
, Supra note 5.
“3 Supra note 4.
‘”Van der Peet, supra note 5 at 544 [original emphasis by Lamer C.J.], quoting Worcester, ibid. at
559.
os As he had done in Sioui (supra note 4 at 1038) six years earlier.
1997]
B.W MORSE- R. v PAMAJEWON
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(2) Tribes were accepted as sovereign, independent nations prior to contact and sub-
sequent thereto until an externally derived sovereign authority exercised effective
control over the territory.
(3) The interaction of the first and second principles results in the transformation of
Indian tribes from independent nations to domestic dependent nations retaining resid-
ual sovereignty.
(4) The sovereignty of Indian Nations is inherent in the tribe itself as it pre-exists
contact with Europeans and originates in the people rather than in any external source
such as a constitution.
(5) The parameters of the residual sovereignty are subject to being reduced by the
overriding authority of Congress (relying upon the express commerce power clause”‘
and a judicially created plenary power doctrine”‘). This requires, however, the enact-
ment of legislation demonstrating a “clear and plain intention” to infringe upon tribal
sovereignty. In the absence of Congressional action, tribal sovereignty and jurisdic-
tion remain intact.
(6) State governments have no direct authority or jurisdiction over Indian tribes or
their territory.”‘
(7) The Federal Government has made itself a trustee in its relationship with Indian
Nations and their assets.”‘
These principles provide overarching guidance or touchstones that can be relied
upon and applied on a case-by-case basis in the United States to determine if a particu-
lar activity or head of jurisdiction remains within tribal control, in full or in part. A
proper assessment would include an examination of such matters as: the territory in
which the act occurred (is it Indian country or not?); the participants to the activity (are
“‘U.S. Const. art. I, 8, cl. 3, which states “to regulate Commerce with foreign Nations, and
among the several States, and with the Indian tribes.”
“‘The authority of Congress to interfere with tribal sovereignty is unlimited and extends even to the
point of the power to terminate the very identity and existence of a tribe. For further information on
this power, and critiques of its existence, see ES. Cohen, Handbook of Federal Indian Law
(Charlottesville, Virginia: Michie, 1982); A.T. Skibine, “Reconciling Federal and State Power Inside
Indian Reservations with
the Rights of Tribal Self-Government and the Process of Self-
Determination” [1995] Utah L. Rev. 1105; R.N. Clinton, “Redressing the Legacy of Conquest”
(1993) 46 Ark. L. Rev. 77; C.F Wilkinson & E.R. Biggs, “The Evolution of the Termination Policy”
(1977) 5 Am. Ind. L. Rev. 139; and supra note 101.
‘” Congress can, however, explicitly delegate authority by legislation to states that allows them to
infringe upon tribal sovereignty as it has done through An Act to confer jurisdiction on the States of
California, Minnesota, Nebraska, Oregon, and Wisconsin, with respect to criminal offenses and civil
causes of action committed or arising on Indian reservations within such States, and for other pur-
poses, Pub. L. No. 280, 67 Stat. 588 (1953); 18 U.S.C. 1162 (Supp. 1997); and 28 U.S.C.
1360ff. (Supp. 1997). See C. E. Goldberg, “Public Law 280: The Limits of State Jurisdiction Over
Reservation Indians” (1975) 22 U.C.L.A. L. Rev. 535.
109 The trust relationship has evolved over time and was originally described less aptly by Chief
Justice Marshall as a guardian-ward relationship in M’Intosh, supra note 5, reflecting the “dependent”
segment of the “domestic dependent nation” concept.
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they tribal members, members of other tribes, non-Indians or a combination?); the
subject matter; the relevance of any treaty terms; and whether or not Congress has leg-
islated on the subject in a manner that demonstrates a clear and plain intent to alter
tribal sovereignty, ahd if so, the impact of that alteration.
The Supreme Court of Canada has chosen not to follow the well-developed
American approach and instead has elected to treat the right of self-government as just
another aboriginal-rights issue –
the same as all other aboriginal-rights claims. This
choice has been made even though all aboriginal-rights cases to date have either dealt
with the narrower concept of aboriginal title to territory (with the invariable conflict of
general federal or provincial legislation potentially affecting that territory) or an activ-
ity that is individually exercised with the entitlement to the right flowing from mem-
bership in the Aboriginal group (such as hunting and fishing). The influence of the
prior jurisprudence has sparked a debate among the Supreme Court judges between the
majority led by Lamer C.J. that focuses on the significance of the activity in question,
and Justices L’Heureux-Dube and McLachlin who concentrate upon the activity in
general. This debate misses the central point, which is the existence of Aboriginal gov-
ernmental jurisdiction and its relationship to the legislation of other governments. The
conflict should rather be envisaged as one between competing governments, each at-
tempting to exercise its legislative jurisdiction, akin to the lengthy history of federal-
provincial constitutional conflicts.
The implications of our Supreme Court’s approach, in contrast to that of the United
States Supreme Court, are unsatisfactory from both a substantive-law and an admini-
stration-of-justice viewpoint The Van der Peet test embroils the judiciary in a quagmire
of subjective assessments of what is and what is not “deserving””‘ of constitutional pro-
tection. Determining whether something is constitutionally worthy must be viewed as a
philosophical or political exercise best left to the philosophers, legislators or the Cana-
dian public at large, rather than to an unelected, unrepresentative and largely unregulated
judiciary. The overwhelmingly non-Aboriginal composition of the bench already tests
the faith of Aboriginal people that they will find justice through the courts, let alone that
the judiciary will be able to decide which matters are deserving of protection by section
35(1). This is not to suggest that all legal issues can be decided on the basis of purely
objective criteria. Subjective elements are inevitable, but the determinations required by
the Van der Peet test are outside the proper sphere of the judiciary.
This shortcoming is compounded by the “integral to the distinctive culture” test.
The legal profession has been poorly prepared to deal with such matters. Chief Justice
Lamer identified a number of factors that must be considered in applying this test.
These include a recognition of “the evidentiary difficulties inherent in adjudicating
aboriginal claims””‘ that Lamer C.J. attributed to the problems “in proving a right
which originates in times where there were no written records.””‘ 2 His solution called
“o Van der Peet, supra note 5 at 595. L’Heureux-Dub6 J. used similar language in Pamajewon, su-
pra note 21 at 839.
.. Van der Peet, ibid. at 558.
“. Ibid at 559.
1997]
B.W MORSE- R. v PAMAJEWON
1035
for sensitivity in addressing these problems by not undervaluing the evidence of the
“aboriginal claimants simply because the evidence does not conform precisely with the
evidentiary standards that would be applied in, for example, a private law torts case.””‘
This sensitivity is well intended but thoroughly inadequate. The difficulty is not merely
the absence of written records, but more importantly, the nature of the inquiry itself.
One does not simply have to prove that a practice, custom or tradition existed, but that
the activity was “integral” to the society as a central element of what made the culture
distinctive.
When one realizes that the majority of the Court has expressly rejected both a
contemporary assessment of the activities in question as well as the modest vintage of
twenty to fifty years proposed by L’Heureux-Dub6 J.”‘ in favour of a requirement to
fulfil the terms of the test as of an ancient date, the challenge becomes overwhelming.
The historical evidence will inevitably consist of the recorded perceptions of outsiders
to the culture –
the colonizers – who would have been an unreliable source on any
cultural matter, not to mention on the assessment of what was integral or essential to a
culture with which they were unfamiliar. The Court had no expert evidence on which it
could rely as to the viability of such a requirement. Perhaps the Court took the joke lit-
erally that every Indian family includes an anthropologist. Lamer C.L provides little
reasoning for the selection in Van der Peet of “the period prior to contact between abo-
riginal and European societies””‘ 5 as the critical moment, even though the decision of
Hutcheon J.A. in the B.C. Court of Appeal turned entirely on this issue”6 and
L’Heureux-Dub J. analyzed it in some detail in her dissent.”7 Many options existed,
the most draconian and illogical of which, if truly intended, was the point of contact.
One must now harken back to the days of the initial “explorers”, of Cabot and Cartier
–
if not back to the Vikings. Lamer C.J. insists that the test does not place Aboriginal
claimants in a position where they “must accomplish the next to impossible task of
producing conclusive evidence from pre-contact times””‘ as this “would be entirely
contrary to the spirit and intent of s.35(l).””
. In his view, one can use post-contact evi-
dence as it “simply needs to be directed at demonstrating which aspects of the aborigi-
nal community and society have their origins pre-contact.”” This is disingenuous as
the test requires proof that the practice, tradition or custom is “integral to the distinctive
culture” and not merely an aspect of the pre-contact society.
The search for what was integral to the distinctive culture of each Aboriginal group
at a point in time prior to effective assertion of European sovereignty and colonization
revives the worst aspects of the discovery doctrine. Despite protests to the contrary by
Ibid
“‘ Ibid at 602. She adopts the view proposed by Brian Slattery in “Understanding Aboriginal
Rights” (1987) 66 Can. Bar Rev. 727 at 758. It is unclear how workable this standard would be in
practice.
… Van der Peet, ibid at 555.
“6 R. v. Vanderpeet (1993), 80 B.C.L.R. (2d) 75, [1993] 5 W.W.R. 459, (C.A.).
“. Van der Peet, supra note 5 at 596ff.
.. Ibid. at 555.
“19 Ibid
‘ Ibid
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the majority, this aspect of the Van der Peet test does create a “frozen rights” approach
as only the method or manner of exercise of an approved activity is permitted to evolve
while the activities themselves are not. At best, this is a form of “permafrost rights”.
The additional requirement of continuity between the modem exercise and the original
pre-contact practice will be insurmountable for those Aboriginal groups that have had
their governments and societies extensively disrupted by the impact of colonialism. To
them, a “frozen rights” approach, without a requirement of continuity, would be more
advantageous, although narrower in scope. Such an approach would at least provide
constitutional protection for something of value.
One of the practical implications of the Van der Peet trilogy coupled with Pamaje-
won is the defacto judicial invitation to lengthy trials. Litigation will require extensive
expert evidence from cultural anthropologists, historians and Aboriginal elders to
demonstrate the nature of the individual Aboriginal culture concerned and to establish
the significant components that made it distinctive. This evidence will not only be ret-
rospective in nature; it will also have to contain proof that what was integral to the so-
ciety at the point of contact continued to be practised over the intervening centuries
(although occasional lapses in exercise of the activity may be permitted). This evidence
will have to be martialled for every Aboriginal group that wishes to pursue litigation to
enforce a right or to defend an activity that is challenged by another government or a
third party. Such a gargantuan effort will have to be undertaken by each group in refer-
ence to each activity in question. As a result of the Court’s refusal in Pamajewon to ad-
dress basic principles regarding a general inherent right to self-government, an Abo-
riginal government will likely have to engage in such an endeavour for each and every
head ofjurisdiction it wishes to exercise. When one considers the thousands of exhibits
and hundreds of days of trial time involved in Delgamuukw’2’ and Bear Island,’2 it ap-
pears that we have a recipe for the potential congestion of the courts, limited only by
the meagre resources of most Aboriginal peoples to mount such litigation. Even this
pragmatic restriction may not arise in circumstances where the economic incentive is
of sufficient scale to attract non-Aboriginal financial support-
as would be the situa-
tion regarding gambling or commercial resource extraction.
It is still unclear after Van der Peet and Pamajewon if traditional Aboriginal law is
relevant to determining the content of aboriginal rights. While Lamer C.J. made a
statement to this effect in Van der Peet”‘ and quoted Brennan J. (as he then was) in
Mabo”‘ on this point, the principle is not in fact reflected in Pamajewon or Van der
Peet. One can suggest, although without certainty, that this is due to the lack of evi-
dence and argument on this point. The Court did not consider the Canadian case law
22 Supra note 35.
‘Ontario (A.G.) v. Bear Island Foundation, [1991] 2 S.C.R. 570.
” Supra note 5 at 546.
24Mabo, supra note 75.
1
1997]
B. W MORSE – R. V. PAMAJEWON
1037
that has regularly sustained the common law’s recognition of traditional or customary
Aboriginal laws, albeit in limited spheres to date.’15
It is surprising that the Court made no reference to the recognition of the inherent
right to self-government in the policy pronouncements of several of the governments
who participated in the Pamajewon appeal,’26 the interim reports of the Royal Com-
mission on Aboriginal Peoples,’27 or the legal literature on the topic.'”‘ This provides
room for consideration of the basic tenet that a general right of self-government does
exist which would not require litigation and an exhaustive cultural explanation on each.
and every individual head of power.
An alternative approach to assessing the practical implications of Pamajewon is to
conclude that the Supreme Court has elaborated the law on self-government in such a
way as to close the door on future litigation on this subject for the foreseeable future.
That is, the Court has created a legal standard that is so hard to meet and has rendered
litigation so expensive to pursue that it is thoroughly unattractive for First Nations and
the Metis to seek a judicial solution.'” The political route of pressuring for legislative
change, or seeking negotiated self-government agreements with constitutional protec-
tion to implement the inherent right, may now have become the only option. If this is
accurate, then the negotiating leverage of Aboriginal communities has been diminished
significantly.
‘2 See Morse, supra note 98. See also Re Tucktoo (1972), 27 D.L.R. (3d) 225, (sub nom. Re Debo-
rah E4-789) [1972] 3 W.W.R. 194 (N.W.T. Terr. CL) aff’d [1972] 5 W.W.R. 203 (N.W.T.C.A.); Re
Tagornak (1983), 50 A.R. 237 (N.W.T.S.C.); Casimel v. Insurance Corp. of Bitish Columbia (1993),
82 B.C.L.R. (2d) 387 (B.C.C.A.); N.K. Zlotkin, “Judicial Recognition of Aboriginal Customary Law
in Canada: Selected Marriage and Adoption Cases” [1984] 4 C.N.L.R. 1; and J. Borrows, “With or
Without You: First Nations Law (in Canada)” (1996) 41 McGill L.J. 629.
,26 Supra note 60. See also Quebec, National Assembly Journal of Debates, (20 March 1985) at
2570 (resolution on Aboriginal self-determination); Statement of Political Relationships between the
Government of Ontario and the Fast Nations of Ontario (August 1991); and public statements of the
Governments of Saskatchewan and British Columbia.
,27 Supra note 31.
,’ See e.g. P. Macklem, “Distributing Sovereignty: Indian Nations and Equality of Peoples” (1993)
45 Stanford L. Rev. 1311; P. Macklem, “Normative Dimensions of an Aboriginal Right to Self-
Government” (1995) 21 Queen’s L.J. 173; P. Macklem, “First Nations Self-Government and the Bor-
ders of the Canadian Legal Imagination” (1991) 36 McGill L.J. 382; B. Ryder “The Demise and Rise
of the Classical Paradigm in Canadian Federalism: Promoting Autonomy for the Provinces and First
Nations” (1991) 36 McGill L.J. 308; JJ. Borrows, “A Genealogy of Law: Inherent Sovereignty and
First Nations Self-Government” (1992) 30 Osgoode Hall L.J. 291; J. Borrows, “Constitutional Law
From a First Nations Perspective: Self-Government and the Royal Proclamation” (1994) 28 U.B.C. L.
Rev. 1; and K. McNeil, “Envisaging Constitutional Space for Aboriginal Governments” (1993) 19
Queens LJ. 95.
‘” It is possible that the Inuit and some First Nations may benefit from a point-of-contact standard
as opposed to any other if the jurisprudence will evolve in a manner that will accept actual contact as
decisive, even if that contact occurs far after assertions of British or Canadian sovereignty. The re-
moteness of most Inuit communities outside of Labrador and some isolated First Nations would then
mean that the critical date for application of this branch of the Van der Peet test to the evidence would
be the late nineteenth or even the twentieth century.
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[1997
VII.The Federal Inherent-Right Policy
After consultation with Aboriginal groups across the country, including two fed-
eral-provincial-territorial ministers and Aboriginal leaders meetings, the federal gov-
ernment released its policy document on the inherent right to self-government in
August 19952″ While the response from the Canadian media was overwhelmingly
positive, the opinion of Aboriginal leaders was mixed and most provinces remained
silent. Then National Chief of the Assembly of First Nations, Ovide Mercredi, con-
demned, in the strongest language, the federal position as merely offering a municipal
form of government and the process used to develop this position as overly secretive.
Other national leaders were more temperate in their criticisms and some regional lead-
ers, especially in British Columbia, endorsed the policy overall. The federal govern-
ment stressed that it was intended as an extension of an offer to negotiate the imple-
mentation of the inherent right with those Aboriginal groups and provinces or territo-
ries that were willing. The federal statement also served to describe in detail the nego-
tiating position that federal representatives would take to the table, but as with any ne-
gotiating position, it was not carved in stone.
It is important to realize that the federal position is founded upon the recognition of
the inherent right to self-government. Much of the discussion about the policy has con-
centrated upon the following: whether an inherent right to self-government encom-
passes sufficient breadth under the heads of legislative power which the federal gov-
ernment accepts as being included within the scope of Aboriginal governmental juris-
diction; the opinion that provincial government participation is required to extend sec-
tion 35(1) protection to self-government agreements reached south of the 60th parallel;
and the perception that negotiation is compulsory such that it is not truly a recognition
of an inherent right but a return to a “contingent right” policy.”‘ What has been too of-
Supra note 60. The author served as Executive Assistant to the Honourable Ronald A. Irwin,
Minister of Indian Affairs and Northern Development, during 1994-96 and was directly involved in
the development of this policy.
“‘ The “contingent right” approach was the position of the Government of Canada and the majority
of the provinces during the FMC process of 1982-87 and subsequently, supra note 23. During the
Charlottetown Accord negotiations the federal, provincial and territorial governments all agreed to
recognize an inherent right as part of the overall package. The stand-alone inherent right amendment
was to be made expressly non-justiciable for five years after proclamation of the amendment package.
The favouritism for negotiations as the means to seek to implement self-government was also appar-
ent through proposed amendments that would obligate federal, provincial and territorial governments
to negotiate on the request of an Aboriginal group. These provisions were elaborated upon further
through a detailed non-constitutional protocol which was also negotiated at that time. The entire
package collapsed with the failure to obtain a “yes” vote in all provinces in the national referendum,
with most non-Aboriginal governments immediately returning to their former contingent-right posi-
tion. This latter position basically means that a right of self-government does not currently exist
within Canadian law and can only be created through negotiating self-government agreements. These
agreements would then establish the general right of self-government and define its precise scope. As
such, the right of self-government is contingent upon ever reaching agreements and is unenforceable
at present through the Canadian courts. This contrasts with a right being recognized as freestanding
and pre-existing the Canadian constitution such that the focus of negotiations is on resolving the inter-
face among governments and implementing the right.
1997]
B.W MORSE- R. V PAMAJEWON
1039
ten overlooked is that the federal position does expressly recognize the inherent right as
being protected by section 35(1) and thereby immediately enforceable in the courts.
However, the government of Canada has stated that its preference is for negotiations
rather than litigation as the vehicle for implementing the right.
The Government of Canada recognizes the inherent right of self-government as
an existing Aboriginal right under section 35 … It recognizes, as well, that the
inherent right may find expression in treaties … The Government acknowl-
edges that the inherent right of self-government may be enforceable through
the courts and that there are different views about the nature, scope and content
of the inherent right. However, litigation over the inherent right would be
lengthy, costly and would tend to foster conflict.”2
While a detailed analysis of the content and the acceptability of the federal policy is
beyond the scope of this article, this pronouncement stands in stark contrast to the Su-
preme Court’s decision in Pamajewon over one year later.
The federal policy does bear a resemblance to the Supreme Court’s new “integral
to the distinctive culture” test. Indeed, some of the policy’s language is a federal elabo-
ration on a shared source –
the language in Sparrow. The government of Canada has
stated:
Recognition of the inherent right is based on the view that the Aboriginal peo-
ples of Canada have the right to govern themselves in relation to matters that
are internal to their communities, integral to their unique cultures, identities,
traditions, languages and institutions, and with respect to their special relation-
ship to their land and their resources.”‘
It must be noted that the scope of the federal statement is significantly broader than the
standard established by the Supreme Court in Pamajewon. Furthermore, it does not
automatically require proof by each Aboriginal group that it possesses a right of self-
government even in a general sense, let alone on a jurisdiction-by-jurisdiction basis.
Instead, the government has said it is open for negotiations to establish principles
which it believes are fundamental. The federal position also creates three lists of juris-
dictions” which reflect the following heads of power: those that are “internal to the
group, integral to its distinct Aboriginal culture and essential to its operation as a gov-
ernment or institution”;”5 those that tend to have effects beyond individual communi-
ties such that federal or provincial law would prevail if conflicts with Aboriginal laws
arose; and those viewed as essential to the national interest such that federal legislative
jurisdiction would have to remain intact, although administrative arrangements would
be negotiable.
The Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples, in its final report”‘ released two
months after the Pamajewon decision, proposes an approach that has much in common
‘ Supra note 60 at 3.
“3IbiL [emphasis added].
‘4 Ibid. at 5-8.
5 Ibid at 5 [emphasis added].
1
236 Canada, Report of the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples (Ottawa: Canada Communica-
tion Group, 1996) (Co-chairs: R. Dussault & G. Erasmus).
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[1997
with the federal policy, although there are some fundamental differences. The Com-
mission divides inherent jurisdiction into two basic sectors: a core area vital to the par-
ticular Aboriginal people, its culture and identity while not having a major impact on
adjacent jurisdictions nor being “the object of transcendent federal or provincial con-
cern”,”‘ and a periphery consisting of all other inherent Aboriginal jurisdictions that
can only be exercised after a self-government treaty has been concluded with the
Crown.3 8
Conclusion
The decision in Pamajewon may illustrate the principle of litigation that weak
cases involving unsympathetic issues make bad law. There are few less attractive is-
sues to select for the first test case on the inherent right to self-government than high-
stakes gambling. It entails the invocation of criminal law by Parliament in order to
confrmn active provincial regulation of an industry generating revenues well in excess
of $20 billion annually.’39 First Nations gaming, at the high-stakes end, inevitably tar-
gets non-Aboriginal patrons as its primary clientele. As a result, there is direct compe-
tition with non-Aboriginal charities and provincial treasuries. Furthermore, the limited
evidence submitted to demonstrate that gambling was an aspect of traditional Anishi-
nabek society regulated by customary law was weak.
In many ways, Aboriginal peoples, as well as others who support the recognition
and implementation of Aboriginal self-government as an inherent right, are fortunate
with the outcome of Pamajewon; it could have been much worse. The Supreme Court
did not sustain the Ontario Court of Appeal’s view that any aboriginal right to regulate
gambling, if it existed, had been extinguished by the Criminal Code. Such a ruling
would have set a disastrous precedent, as many areas of governance are the subject of
detailed federal and provincial legislation. At its narrowest, it would have implied that
the exercise of federal criminal-law-making is sufficient to extinguish Aboriginal ju-
risdiction.
In addition, the Court did not decisively reject the existence of an inherent right, as
it assumed for the purposes of argument that the right existed. The Court, having con-
cluded that the evidence did not satisfy the elements of the Van der Peet test, did not
need to treat the issues of section 35(1) protection, extinguishment, and justification for
federal infringement.
Therefore, some room has been left for future reconsideration of the inherent right
through litigation. It must be admitted, however, that the language of Pamajewon indi-
cates that the Supreme Court, as it is currently constituted, is not readily inclined to ac-
cept the assertion of a general inherent right akin to the domestic dependent nationhood
status doctrine of residual inherent sovereignty in the United States.
, Ibid, vol. 2, part 1, Restructuring the Relationship at 167.
’39Ibid.
‘” Gambling in Canada, supra note 55 at 1.
1997]
B. W. MORSE – R. V PAMAJEWON
1041
The Pamajewon decision has not yet affected the bilateral or trilateral self-
government negotiations underway in many regions of Canada. The federal govern-
ment has continued to sustain its political and legal position in support of inherent-right
recognition. The governments of Saskatchewan, Nova Scotia and the Yukon have
signed tripartite accords that contain recognition of Aboriginal governance since the
decision’s release. The government of British Columbia has continued to sign tripartite
framework agreements in the language of recognition that commit to negotiations on
the scope and implementation of Aboriginal jurisdiction. The governments of New-
foundland and Labrador, Quebec, Ontario and the Northwest Territories remain in-
volved
that include self-
government issues, although only the Northwest Territories recognizes an inherent
right as an existing aboriginal right. Nevertheless, the negligible impact of Pamajewon
on negotiations has been a political decison of these governments and is always vul-
nerable to change at any time.'”
land-claims negotiations
in
tripartite comprehensive
Further litigation will inevitably occur. Recourse to the courts is particularly likely
in those provinces where only limited acceptance of an inherent right is reflected in the
tripartite negotiations. Both the Royal Commission and the government of Canada ac-
cept that recognition of the inherent right entails acceptance of the entitlement of Abo-
riginal communities to exercise law-making functions even without the Crown’s
agreement, although neither prefers this unilateral approach. Attempts by Aboriginal
communities to exercise their powers unilaterally may give rise to civil disobedience or
to conflicts of laws with other governments.”
It is hoped that the next time the Canadian courts are called upon to hear argu-
ments on the vital issue of Aboriginal self-government, there will be a number of trea-
ties or agreements in place that expressly confirm the existence of the inherent right as
well as clarify the relationship between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal governments.
The presence of such treaties, coupled with the existence of fully functioning Aborigi-
nal governments with constitutionally confirmed powers that can be seen as operating
effectively, could drastically alter the judicial attitude and the atmosphere in which ba-
sic governance issues are canvassed. A more complete review of the Canadian and
foreign jurisprudence that does recognize Aboriginal law and jurisdiction would be
most welcome.
Proponents of the inherent right would be wise to develop an intelligent litigation
strategy, if the courts are to be utilized at all. The lawsuit should be only one prong in
an overall approach aimed at fostering reconciliation, rather than an “all or nothing”
gamble. Developing a wise game plan involves carefully selecting the issue to test, so
’40 A reference to “the inherent right of self-government”‘ as among “existing aboriginal or treaty
rights” was included in a federal bill for the first time in Bill C-79, Indian Act Optional Modification
Act, 2d Sess., 35th Parl., 1996, cl. 4(3) (1st reading 12 December 1996) but it died on the Order Paper
with the federal election.
… Conflicts are also envisioned between First Nations seeking to implement their lands, natural-
resources, wildlife-harvesting and environmental-protection laws and corporate and other third-party
interests that rely upon federal or provincial licenses or property interests to engage in the activity in
dispute.
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[1997
as to build incrementally upon existing non-Aboriginal jurisprudence.”‘ It also requires
having both the appropriate factual circumstances and the expert evidence in place.
However, there are no guarantees, as is demonstrated by the Van derPeet case itself.”‘
Canadian courts have on numerous occasions expressly indicated that Aboriginal
issues belong in the realm of political negotiations rather than in the judicial arena.
Whether the members of the Supreme Court were thinking about this, yet chose not to
comment on it expressly is, of course, unknown. The message to First Nations remains
the same – do not go to court looking for confirmation of your legitimacy as govern-
ments.
,.2 One example might be to test a First Nation law that confirms the legitimacy of longhouse or
other forms of customary marriages for some purpose. This would build upon existing common-law
judgments that recognize traditional Aboriginal family law (see Morse, supra note 98) as well as
provisions in the Indian Act (supra note 38, for example s. 2(l) definition of a “child” ).
” In which a poor elderly Sto:lo woman selling ten salmon was unsuccessful and treated as if she
were a major commercial operator.
