As construction of the PRGT pipeline begins on Nisg̱a’a lands, their Gitanyow neighbours set up a blockade
In the misty mountains of northwestern “B.C.,” resistance is unfolding under the looming shadow of the Prince Rupert Gas Transmission (PRGT) pipeline.
Hereditary chiefs who signed pipeline community benefits agreements in 2014 are backpedaling — fearful of environmental impacts and the acceleration of the climate crisis.
“This project doesn’t make any sense,” said Gitanyow Hereditary Chief Gamlakyeltxw, Wil Marsden, of the Lax Ganeda (frog) Clan, via phone from a blockade erected August 22 on unceded Gitanyow lax’yip (territory).
Marsden, who holds the highest chief name out of four Gitanyow clans, along with Lax Ganeada Hereditary Chief Watkhayetsxw, Deborah Good, helped lead the recent shutdown of the remote Cranberry Connector or Nass Forest Service Road (approximately 128 kilometres north of “Terrace”) in Watakhayetsxw territory.
The blockade was preventing any PRGT equipment slated for the construction of the pipeline from accessing the road. Gitanyow Youth and hereditary chiefs burned copies of the pipeline agreement in a ceremony at the blockade site signaling their opposition to the project.
“It was great (to burn the agreement),” continued Marsden, who was one of the signatories to it in 2014. “Just 10 years ago compared to now, the beaver ponds are all dried up, our rivers are all drying up. The Nass (River) is the lowest we’ve ever seen it in our life. And just looking at my kids, we want fresh water for them.”
The PRGT pipeline is owned by Nisg̱a’a Nation and Western LNG — a project the modern treaty community’s leaders say is groundbreaking because of its Indigenous ownership and the economic stability it provides for its members.
Salmon habitats at risk
At a planned 800 kilometres, the pipeline is set to carry fracked gas from Hudson’s Hope in northeastern “B.C.” to the proposed Ksi Lisims liquified natural gas (LNG) project export facility on Pease Island, in the Pacific Ocean’s Portland Inlet. The Ksi Lisims facility is expected to produce up to 12 million tonnes of LNG per year, which will then be exported to Asian markets. It’s estimated to cost $5 billion to build.
The completed pipeline would cross through numerous First Nation territories as well as more than 1,000 streams, rivers, lakes and fjords. Many of the waterways are critical salmon habitats, which are a staple Indigenous food.
Gitanyow, meaning “people of many numbers,” belong to the broader Gitxsan Nation. The village of Gitanyow is world-renowned for its ancient and expansive collection of totem poles. They have preserved age-old customs, language, ceremony and laws that continue to govern their way of life.
Hereditary names hold power and control over traditional territories and the chiefs exercise authority, which in recent years has been adhered to by industry, “Canada” and province, said Marsden.
However, Marsden recalled being told by PRGT and government representatives in 2014 that the pipeline project would go ahead with or without the permission of Gitanyow. This factored into why the hereditary chiefs signed on, he said, because “they were just going to do it anyway.”
But the chiefs managed to negotiate terms in hopes of mitigating impacts.
“When it came to compressor stations on my territory, we were able to convince the company to electrify them, so no flaring,” said Marsden. “And when it came to the province, we were able to negotiate land taxes from any compressor station or man camp or any revenue generated on behalf of the province would be directly paid to us. That was all in the agreement that we burned.”
New ownership
In an online statement, Gitanyow hereditary chiefs said they acted following months-long failed negotiations and consultation with government and pipeline officials about major changes to the original PRGT route.
The chiefs first expressed concerns in the fall of 2023 that the agreement was outdated and didn’t reflect the original agreement they signed onto. They added that both federal and provincial governments have fully endorsed the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) since 2014.
The pipeline was previously owned by TC Energy — which also owned the Coastal GasLink LNG pipeline running through unceded Wet’suwet’en territories that has unleashed nearly a decade of conflict, including police raids and surveillance against Wet’suwet’en land defenders, which led to Canada-wide protests in solidarity.
“We saw years and years of fighting (in Wet’suwet’en territory), the police violence, and even the company with harassment and surveillance of land defenders,” said Marsden.
“We don’t want none of that to happen here. We have a plan for everything we’re doing and we prefer to reconcile with B.C. and Canada,” he said, while sounds of children playing and laughter is heard from the blockade site in the background.
TC Energy sold the PRGT pipeline earlier this year to the Gitanyow’s western neighbour Nisg̱a’a Nation and Texas-based Western LNG. Now the new owners are pushing forward with the pipeline proposing it be amended from its original certified route.
It was initially slated to end at Lelu Island, near Port Edward on the province’s north coast, but is changing course to stretch further into Nass Bay and divert up Portland Inlet toward the proposed Ksi Lisims LNG project export facility on Pearse Island which is fee simple land owned by the Nisg̱a’a Nation.
“The PRGT pipeline is now proposed to connect to a new terminal, which has not yet been reviewed or approved. The Ksi Lisims terminal would be located in the Nass River estuary, and to date scientific studies to verify the impact on salmon have not been completed,” says the statement from the Gitanyow hereditary chiefs.
The Nisg̱a’a Nation did not respond to requests for an interview. However, the community livestreamed a groundbreaking ceremony for the PGRT project on August 26.
During the event, Nisg̱a’a Lisims Government Executive Chairperson Brian Tait spoke about how it took over a decade to get to this point, and “it hasn’t been a smooth and steady path,” with ongoing debate among communities about the pipeline.
However, he said the nation studied the project’s potential impacts and listened to those concerns and still wanted to move forward in order to provide opportunities for its membership — particularly Youth — to get the community out of poverty and allow people to move home.
“We made that decision because for too long the Nisg̱a’a people have stood on the sidelines while others build wealth on the resources of our lands,” he said.
“And if these projects are going to be built, then we want to be in the driver’s seat, so we can guide them according to our knowledge of the land and according to our values.”
“We made that decision because for too long the Nisg̱a’a people have stood on the sidelines while others build wealth on the resources of our lands,” he said.
“And if these projects are going to be built, then we want to be in the driver’s seat, so we can guide them according to our knowledge of the land and according to our values.”
The Nation also announced the commencement of the PRGT construction on their territory in an online statement.
“Today we are breaking new ground, not just at the PRGT worksite, but for the Nisg̱a’a people and all Indigenous people in Canada,” said Eva Clayton, president of Nisg̱a’a Lisims Government.
“For the first time in Canadian history, construction is underway on a major pipeline project that is owned equally by a First Nation. There is great enthusiasm and optimism in our Nation. We are ready to guide this project forward with the Nisga’a values of unity, respect and compassion.”
However, Marsden said the Gitanyow don’t want Nisg̱a’a’s pipeline in Gitanyow territory.
He added the blockade at Cranberry Corner is set to stay up until at least November 25. The Gitanyow Hereditary Chiefs are also exploring legal action against the PRGT and Kis Lisims project.
Western LNG did not respond to repeated requests for comment, however, in a statement given to Canada’s National Observer, the company said it “believes in free speech and peaceful assembly,” adding “PRGT will continue to seek constructive dialogue with First Nations, focusing on resolving issues and realizing opportunities.”
‘Risks outnumber potential benefits’
Now, the clock is ticking towards a November deadline when the province will decide whether the current environmental certificate will be renewed pending the new owners complete “substantive” construction on the project.
In an email to IndigiNews and Ricochet Media, the provincial Environmental Assessment Office said it received an application from the PRGT owners on June 21, 2024, for an amendment under Section 32(1) of the Environmental Assessment Act.
“A public comment period began on August 1, 2024, and will remain open until September 3, 2024. However, any amendment would be assessed under the current Environmental Assessment Act, including seeking consensus with First Nations,” stated the email.
“The Environmental Assessment Act allows for a one-time-only extension of the deadline set in an environmental assessment certificate of no more than five years. The environmental assessment certificate for PRGT was provided an extension that will expire November 25, 2024, unless the project has been substantially started. ”
However, the Gitanyow Hereditary Chiefs say they’ve already looked at the impacts associated with the PRGT and Ksi Lisms projects and say the risks outnumber potential benefits.
“Both the fisheries and climate reviews found that there was insufficient evidence to substantiate the proponent’s claims that the project could achieve net zero goals in terms of greenhouse gas emissions and the provincial government’s assertion that the project would have no impact on Nass River fisheries,” said a statement from the hereditary chiefs.
“Despite the chiefs’ concerns and supporting scientific evidence, their objections have been ignored. PRGT is hastening construction to pre-empt the expiration of its environmental assessment certificate on November 25, 2024.”
‘Natural gas is a fossil fuel, not a clean energy source’
The Gitanyow Hereditary Chiefs are in ongoing treaty negotiations with “B.C.” and “Canada” to establish rights and title guided by UNDRIP. However, the process could be compromised by the failed consultations on the PRGT pipeline, said Marsden.
“What we’re relying on is the relationship that we have with the government. It’s good now, but you never know how it’s going to turn out,” he said.
“If we need to reconcile with any other country throughout the world we need to go for those options, whether it’s going to England and negotiating with the king himself.”
“Canada” and the LNG industry tout the economic benefits of what they claim to be cleaner energy produced by fracking. However, the UN has called that claim a myth, and that “natural gas is a fossil fuel like oil and coal.”
According to Natural Resources Canada, there are currently seven LNG export projects and one infrastructure project in various stages of development — projects that have been called “carbon bombs” by climate experts and scientists.
The Canadian Gas Association, an industry lobby group pushing the federal government to expand fracking, promotes LNG because it says it’s a key source of economic growth that will help to meet global energy demands.
Together, the projects represent a “possible capital investment of almost $109 billion and a potential production of capacity of 50.3 million tonnes per annum of LNG.”
Clean Energy Canada, a climate and clean energy program at Simon Fraser University, warns that if all the LNG facilities were to be built, it would be impossible for Canada to meet its commitment to the Paris Agreement because the facilities require a massive amount of electricity per year (around 43 TWh), which is the equivalent of the electricity from more than eight Site C dams.
LNG is “far from clean, with emissions associated with every step of the supply chain, from extraction to liquefaction to combustion,” Clean Energy Canada states. If all six proposed LNG projects were to be built, their operational and upstream emissions alone would make up 40 per cent of the province’s 2030 emissions target (that is even assuming most facilities are electrified). And that’s just “B.C.’s” emissions. Combusting the exported fuel at its destination — which is accounted for in the importing countries’ greenhouse gas inventories — would be 10 times greater. And those combustion emissions don’t even account for the transportation emissions from shipping the LNG from the export facility to its destination.
Heading to the frontlines
Bordering Gitanyow territories to the east is the Gitxsan (meaning “people of the river mist”) community of Kispiox (“people of the hiding place”). It sprawls through a stunning, mountainous valley where the turquoise-coloured Skeena and Bulkey Rivers meet. The Kispiox (population 1,700) are close relatives of the Gitanyow sharing customs, language, matriarchal governing systems and harvesting much of the same sustenance produced in the region.
Some Kispiox band members are readying to set up various blockades along with the local settler community who don’t want their environment compromised by the PRGT project.
Hooxi’I, Kolin Sutherland-Wilson, of the house of Tsi’basaa, is the elected chief councillor of the Kispiox Nation. He juggles his time between being a husband and father and practicing Gitxsan ancestral laws and way of life. He’s passionate about safekeeping his traditional territories which span approximately 33,000 square kilometres of land and waterways.
For years, Sutherland-Wilson has advocated for Gitxsan rights and sovereignty. He’s also aided his allies, the Wet’suwet’en, whose eastern territory borders his and was arrested in 2021 while defending Wet’suwet’en lands from the CGL pipeline project.
He’s known about the PRGT pipeline since before the hereditary chiefs from Kispiox signed a benefits agreement with the company in 2014. And for years he’s been organizing community meetings to outline the problems with the project. Now that the pipeline is at his doorstep, he’s ready to head to the frontlines.
“It’s a duty, unfortunately, it’s reality and something we’ve prepped for,” said Sutherland-Wilson, while stringing long strips of salmon onto wooden sticks to hang in his backyard smokehouse.
“This whole process has been rough, fast and slapdash, nobody’s been consulted.”
He’s referring to the PRGT proposed route change and the rush to green-light it via the November deadline as well as the acceleration of the climate crisis.
“Even our own (Gitxsan) technical advisory bodies have cautioned that if we have a project of this scale, which includes the right of way, the pipeline, the compressor stations, heavy industrial traffic, man camps and sewage and other factors — if that goes through it might be a tipping point when it comes to our salmon spawning habitat.”
‘Absolute damage to our territory’
On August 29, the Kispiox Band, Skeena Watershed Conservation Coalition and Kispiox Valley Community Centre Association, filed a judicial review to hold the B.C. Energy Regulator liable for “breaking its own rules and ignoring concerns from communities directly impacted,” when approving the PRGT.
“You see the salmon in front of you,” he nods toward a fresh harvest of about 90 salmon which he’s preserving to feed his family for the year.
“We have a very serious relationship with the salmon, with the moose that live out there or any other creature. And these projects compromise our quality of life in favor of just getting money in the short term.
“All of this work for a handful of jobs that basically after three and a half years are all gone and we’re just left with the absolute damage to our territory.”
He’s confident his community members, Gitanyow and other allies including non-Indigenous families in the Kispiox Valley will succeed in resisting the pipeline.
As the sun begins to dip behind the mountain peaks on a warm August evening, along a winding gravel road and up a forest-lined driveway sits the cabin home of a long-time resident of the Kispiox Valley Community Centre Association. The homeowner warmly welcomes Sutherland-Wilson and other locals ranging in the ages of 25 to 70 where they dine on homemade salmon cakes and garden salad.
Afterward, the group gathers around a large paper board in the living room to strategize on how to defend their homelands from the PRGT. They exchange ideas, which are scribbled in point form on the board, and figure out key areas they plan to shut down when the time comes.
The settlers here have good relationships with the Indigenous bands, said Sutherland-Wilson. They are interdependent.
“We’re no strangers to working together,” said Sutherland-Wilson. “A lot of the people you’ll talk to up the valley, they’ll point to periods of their life where they heavily relied on Gitxsan people to get by and vice versa. A lot of people in my family relied on people up the valley for help when it came to farming. Quite a few of the folks up the valley are adopted into Gitxsan houses.”
Settler solidarity
It’s not often First Nations and settlers agree in these situations, but Sutherland-Wilson is proud of the kinships they’ve built here. Together, they stand as guardians of a shared destiny, ready to write a new chapter in the saga of Indigenous resistance and the struggle for environmental justice.
“I think that anyone would be hard-pressed to build a project through here with the opposition that exists from almost every single demographic in Gitxsan territory,” he said.
But the Kispiox hereditary chiefs have been eerily silent when it comes to the Gitanyow blockade and talks of Gitxsan shutting down access to the PRGT, he says. His father, Hereditary Chief Wii Muk’Wilixw, Art Wilson, was a signatory to the PRGT agreement in 2014.
Wilson first became a hereditary chief in 1982. He dedicated his life to fighting for the land, including consulting on and attending the historic Delgamuuk v British Columbia Supreme Court of Canada case that proved Aboriginal title exists.
The 76-year-old with shoulder-length silver hair saunters over to Sutherland-Wilson’s backyard from his home next door. His demeanour is gentle, he speaks slowly and ponders his responses with frequent pauses.
“We (the hereditary chiefs) didn’t want to say yes or no right off the bat,” said Wilson, seated in a lawn chair under a tented gazebo to shade him from the blaring sun.
“We were in no rush (to sign on back in 2014) because we knew it was going to cause conflict in the community. But the government said whether we like it or not they’re going to ram it down our throats. And what do we do in a situation like that?”
The chiefs felt backed into a corner, he said. So, they decided to sign the agreement to at least get something out of it.
“We said that every Gitxsan should benefit, babies and everybody. We could build language camps and do something good by rebuilding ourselves.”
‘The prophecy of the snake’
The Kispiox, like many Indigenous nations, are healing from generations of oppression and injustice caused by the violence of colonialism that established the nation of “Canada.” Wilson says he was spared from attending the abusive Indian residential “school” system because his parents hid him in the remote regions of their territory where he was raised traditionally.
He grew up hearing prophecies of old from Gitxsan Elders.
“A long time ago, one of the prophets had a vision. He came back to the village to tell the people that one day the ghosts would come, he was talking about the white man. He said one day the big snake will come off the river.”
Wilson believes the prophecy of the snake is now being fulfilled in the form of the PRGT and other industry projects. The snake brings carnage to the land and the people. He watched in agony how the Wet’suwet’en were treated by the CGL pipeline owners, governments and police forces and is worried about what may soon come.
“One of the other things the prophet said is the world will burn,” he said.
Now, he’s changed his mind on supporting the pipeline, “I really don’t care if the PRGT doesn’t go ahead. It will tear apart our world.”
His son, Sutherland-Wilson, said he reveres and respects his father. He understands why he felt forced to sign the agreement.
“The message that I really want my dad to understand, or any of the other chiefs who made these decisions, given the harsh parameters that were created by B.C. and industry, I would tell them that there is a lot of young Gitxsan who have stepped up to the plate,” he said.
“We are willing to fight. We’re not scared. We have time and energy to put into this. This is what resonates with our values as Gitxsan, protecting the land and our shared resources.”
‘There are no beaver dams, no water, no fish, nothing’
George Muldoe, 83, holds the legendary hereditary name Delgamuuk, passed down from his late brother Earl Muldoe who died in 2022. Earl was named as the main plaintiff in the 1997 court decision that recognized Indigenous title.
But since that momentous ruling, Muldoe says little has happened to define its terms.
“We haven’t done squat in 27 years, nothing,” he said from the Gitxsan Development Corporation office in the village of Old Hazelton, which parallels the Kispiox community.
“We’re losing $500 million a year on our logs being cut, and we’re sitting around the boardroom smiling for $150,000 a year.”
He’s deeply worried about the state of Gitxsan territories. Having grown up on the land, which he still assesses regularly via a remote cabin home some three-hour drive northwest of Kispiox, climate change has devastated it in recent years, he said.
That’s one of the reasons he’s not in support of the PRGT project.
“Because of the damage it does, look at what’s already happening,” he said, throwing his arms into the air, inhaling a deep breath and furrowing his grey brows.
“I’ve been studying global warming for 50 years, just from what I see out there. Ninety per cent of our creeks are dead where I come from. There are no beaver dams, no water, no fish, nothing.”
He said he puts his foot down when it comes to industries such as forestry extracting from his territory.
“Where I come from up north, I have full sovereignty on my own territory, I have the final say in everything. If anything goes on in there, they (industry) have to get an access permit.”
Last fall, Muldoe says he evicted contractors off his territory who didn’t have permission to be there, something the Gitxsan have been doing for years.
“We confiscated their rifles and the cops worked with me.”
Yet, he’s concerned for the safety of Gitxsan land defenders prepping to resist the coming PRGT project. With a far-off look, Muldoe recounts watching the RCMP’s formerly called C-IRG unit, (now called CRU-BC) arrest Wet’suwet’en using warfare tactics.
He recalled Prime Minister Justin Trudeau addressing the media about dissension against “progress.”
“Trudeau said if anyone tries to stop the economy of Canada, he will not hesitate to use force.”
Those words seared into Muldoe’s psyche. He’s sure Canada, the province, the PRGT along with the RCMP will implement force if Gitxsan attempts to stop the project.
Muldoe sat next to his brother Earl when he added his signature to the PRGT benefits agreement 10 years ago. He reiterated assertions that the chiefs were told the pipeline would go through whether they agreed or not. Muldoe said the chiefs signed on under conditions that any money exchanged would go towards education, housing and medical care for the Gitxsan and then equally divided among the 60 house groups.
“The people accepted the money. I’m sure glad none of the money went in my pocket, I’ve got nothing on my head. Now, (the house groups) own leaders are saying, ‘if you guys don’t agree with the pipeline you have to pay all that money back.’”
He pointed to a brand-new arena constructed in Kispiox that was built with PRGT pipeline money.
“They (the community) agreed to the pipeline and now people are questioning the authority of their chiefs,” he shrugs his shoulders and points out that he didn’t see many community members showing up to meetings about the PRGT in 2014.
“One meeting we had, there were eight people there, so how concerned are they?”
‘Sneaky, sly, deceitful‘
Dimdiigibuu, Ardythe Wilson, 73, a wing-chief of the Gutginuxw house, whose territory the pipeline will run through and experience the most impacts, disagrees. It’s that community members were “kept out of the loop”, she said.
“Ten years ago, we didn’t even know what was going on, we found out by accident when we found workers surveying our territory,” explained Ardythe.
She’s joined by her sister and daughter who say they’re ready to set up camp on a blockade. The ambitious Elders, even in their old age, are willing to put themselves on the line no matter how difficult it might be.
“We’re in our 70s, I don’t want to go park my ass on the ground to do another blockade. But if we have to, we have to, right,” said Ardythe.
The three sit at a picnic table near the banks of the point where the Skeena and Bulkley Rivers join up, the sounds of families fishing and children playing near the water echo through the valley.
Ardythe and her sister reminisce about living out at a blockade camp on a remote road with their mother for months in harsh weather conditions where they stopped loggers from accessing their lands in the 1990s.
Ardythe is proud that her house group was the only one who didn’t sign onto the PRGT project.
“We completely rejected it,” she said. “We have high spiritual value areas out there that we use for ceremonies. And on this PRGT pipeline, they’re planning on building a compressor where we have one of our major ancient village sites. And near there is where they proposed to dig under the Skeena to the other side.”
Looking back, Ardythe says some community members were paid off. At one meeting, Ardythe saw streams of people going in and out of a room at the local community hall. Then a non-Indigenous man the Gitxsan Development Corporation hired to liaison with the Kispiox about the PRGT tapped Ardythe on her shoulder and asked to speak privately.
“He took me upstairs, sat me down at a table and closed the door. He puts a half sheet of paper in front of me, then takes a big wad of money out of his pocket. He peels off a $50 bill and puts it in front of me. I said, ‘What’s this?’ He said, ‘Oh, can I have you sign this?’”
Ardythe said he opened the paper gesturing for her to permit him to represent her house group in negotiations with the government and PRGT.
“I said, ‘there’s no damn way I’m going to sign this.’”
She went on to allege that all proponents of the pipeline have been “sneaky, sly, deceitful, dishonest and disrespectful.”
This summer Ardythe attended meetings about the coming pipeline project and voiced her dissent, “I told them (chiefs) they didn’t do things right the last time around and that this was no way to represent our best interests,” she said.
“They bat around the laws of our grandmothers and grandfathers (like it’s nothing). I told them they’re full of bullshit, this is not the law of our people.”
For Ardythe, the very past, future and livelihood of her nation is on the line. Just like it was when she was one of five designated speakers who represented the Gitxsan and Wet’suwet’en during the Delgamuukw vs. B.C. trial. She takes her role as a matriarch and wing-chief seriously.
“The chiefs who signed on have to defend the pipeline and the proponents. They have to quell any uprising by their house members, that’s what they signed,” she said.
“But we’ve got generations of ancestors buried on our land. We spilled blood on our land, our bones are there. We’re the ones that hold title on that land. This is not individual interests, it’s a collective interest.”
‘It’s in my blood to defend the land’
One First Nation community that’s never signed benefit agreements with industry or the province is the village of Hagwilget. It sits just across the Bulkley River Canyon’s 80-meter-high suspension bridge west of Kispiox. Hagwilget is a Wet’suwet’en community, but many Gitxsan live there too, including Deputy Chief Councillor Jesse Stoeppler, of the Spookwx clan house whose half Wet’suwet’en and half Gitxsan.
“Right from the get-go, we’ve made our position clear that all jurisdiction over territories has to be held within hereditary governance only,” he said during a phone interview.
“The black cloud over any LNG project in the north that we’ve seen so far is not only flaws within the projects themselves with industry, but the absence and total failure on the provincial and federal regulator side. I believe that neither this province nor this country is prepared to properly regulate the construction, planning, and other arms of a mega project.”
Stoeppler is also a Gitxsan hereditary leader holding the name of Gwii Lok’im Gibuu and co-director of the Skeena Watershed Conservation Coalition (SWCC). It’s a group made up of Indigenous and settler community members who advocate for the well-being of the water systems and environment in the area.
Even though the PRGT will not run through his territory, Stoeppler believes the impacts will be felt by all. Along with the judicial review jointly filed by the SWCC, Kispiox Band and Kispiox Valley Community Centre Association in early September, Stoeppler plans to stand side by side with his allies on the frontlines against the pipeline project.
“It’s important to realize that Indigenous people and non-Indigenous people that call this place home, equally, are absolutely dependent on the health of this watershed, the health of the air, the health of the water, the land, and the people that live here,” Stoeppler said.
“And so it is only through relationships, human to human, that doesn’t see color. I am very happy to see the support from the non-Indigenous communities that are within this watershed.”
North of the Kispiox village near the now-gated shut, remote Suskwa Forest Service Road in the Gitxsan’s Madii Lii territory belonging to the house group of Luutkuziiwus (frog), next to a salmon-bearing creek is a settlement constructed by the Luutkuziiwus over 10 years ago. The house group built several log cabins and other infrastructure here and shut its doors to industry to create a space for members to conduct ceremonies, practice traditions and harvest food and medicine.
Luutkuziiwus member Aspin’m nax’nox, Ira Good, lives out at Madii Lii territory when he’s not working as a truck driver in Prince Rupert. He said he’s there to uphold the vision of his late brother Richard Wright who led the resistance until his passing in 2020.
Good takes a break from fishing for salmon in the creek and studies a map spread over a wooden table inside the main cabin.
“I am the front line and I’ve been here since 2014,” he said, pointing out which areas the PRGT pipeline will carve through his territory.
“It’s in my blood to defend the land. This big pipeline that’s going through now, I have to be ready.”
He said he and other Gitxsan supported their Wet’suwet’en neighbours during their battle against the CGL LNG pipeline. He knows the trauma it caused, but he says it doesn’t detour him from protecting what rightfully belongs to the future generations of Gitxsan.
“If we don’t (defend the land) it will get raped and pillaged. We will be standing together or divided we will fall.”
He plans to fight for the territory even if the chances of winning are low. He’s almost certain they’ll be outpowered by the coming army of industry, government and police agents.
As the sun sets behind the towering mountain cliffs cradling the settlement of Madii Lii, Good considers the question lingering in the air: will history repeat itself, or will the spirit of resistance rise and overturn the fate of the PRGT pipeline?
“One hundred percent this pipeline will go through. There are no ifs, ands or buts about it. If the government and industry try to come in and enforce their injunctions, they’ll bring their strong arm RCMP and enforce their laws without taking our laws into consideration. But I know my territory,” he paused and pointed enthusiastically to the wilderness outside the window.
“I know where everything is out there. They’re going to be coming in with rifles, drones, dogs, power saws, helicopters, everything… what will happen? I’ll go to jail; I’ll go to court.”
This story, written by Brandi Morin, is co-published by IndigiNews and Ricochet Media as part of an ongoing partnership.