Canada sees ‘opportunity’ in these mines. Alaskans see a threat.

 


METLAKATLA, Alaska — In the rugged northwestern region of British Columbia, Canada perceives “a generational opportunity.” This area is estimated to contain $1 trillion worth of gold and minerals essential for developing clean energy technologies, as Ottawa and Washington express concerns about China’s dominance in this field. 


Neighbors in Alaska view this situation as an existential threat. Several operational or proposed mines are situated near rivers that flow across the border into Alaska. Those that have been evaluated in recent years have complied with U.S. Environmental Protection Agency and Alaska water-quality standards. However, Indigenous communities, environmental advocates, and legislators here, recalling a history of pollution and disaster, fear that the mines in British Columbia’s Golden Triangle could introduce new contamination.


Native groups, whose ancestral territories extend across both sides of the Alaska and British Columbia border, are apprehensive that pollutants from these mines could jeopardize their traditional ways of life that have supported their communities for generations. Several tribes in Alaska are urging Ottawa to acknowledge them as Aboriginal peoples of Canada. This recognition would grant them greater influence over mining activities on the other side of a boundary established by colonial powers.


“Mines are being developed on the river that flows into their fishing areas, which are deeply intertwined with their cultural practices, traditions, subsistence, and overall well-being,” stated Ramin Pejan, a lawyer representing the tribes. “They need to be consulted and involved in evaluating the impacts and designing mitigation strategies.”


Canada's Golden Triangle

The mountains of northwestern British Columbia are believed to contain $1 trillion in gold and minerals. In neighboring Alaska, Indigenous communities, environmentalists, and lawmakers are concerned that mining activities will contaminate the state's waterways and fisheries.


“If there is a [mining] catastrophe, it could be catastrophic for our salmon,” remarked Clinton Cook Sr., president of the Craig Tribal Association. “Salmon has been integral to the way of life for all of southeast Alaska since our arrival. … Our lifestyle and the safeguarding of what we require to survive — we take it very seriously.”


Their worries have long been echoed by legislators and environmentalists who fear that mining could threaten the fishing and tourism sectors — the foundation of southeastern Alaska’s economy.



Canada has been positioning itself to the United States as a friendly, dependable source of critical minerals to counter China's influence, which dominates the supply chains for minerals necessary for the green energy transition. China is the leading global producer of graphite and refines over half of the world’s lithium, key elements in electric vehicle batteries.


Canada boasts 31 critical minerals, and its reserves of cobalt and nickel rank among the top 10 worldwide. However, industry groups caution that if Canada does not enhance exploration efforts, reduce bureaucratic hurdles, and attract investment, it risks falling behind. The United States has been eager to collaborate with its close ally; its military has invested millions of dollars into Canadian mines under the Defense Production Act.

However, in August, Alaska’s congressional representatives sent a bipartisan letter to President Joe Biden advocating for an “international framework” to address conflicts in shared waterways and ensuring that any communities negatively impacted by British Columbia mines would receive compensation. 


“We recognize that … critical minerals sourced from Canadian mines are vital to U.S. and allied national security and play an essential role in resource development,” wrote Senators Dan Sullivan (R) and Lisa Murkowski (R), along with Representative Mary Peltola (D). “Nonetheless, there is no necessity to compromise environmental safeguards to protect our security and empower our communities.”


Michael Goehring, president of the Mining Association of British Columbia, argued that establishing such a framework would be expensive and unwarranted. He noted that there is already a bilateral working group comprising officials from Alaska and British Columbia to address disputes, and that mines in the province operate under “world-leading laws and regulations.” 


“We acknowledge that Alaskans and Alaskan tribes seek assurance that mining is conducted responsibly in the transboundary region,” Goehring told The Washington Post. “However, it is crucial to recognize that we practice responsible mining in British Columbia.”


Indigenous groups remain skeptical. They worry that their cultural practices are at risk of vanishing. 


When Lee Wagner was young, her family would fish the Unuk River for eulachon, a smelt whose arrival marked the onset of spring. Locally referred to as the “savior fish,” it appeared when food supplies were scarce after a harsh winter.


In her hometown of Metlakatla, a community of 1,450 accessible only by seaplane or boat, eulachon would be smoked for consumption or processed into a fatty condiment known as grease, which was traded among Indigenous groups on both sides of the border.


“All the kids would say, ‘Lee’s house smells so bad,’” recalled Wagner, 46. “But those are the traditions I was fortunate enough to experience.”


Now she fears those traditions are endangered. The cross-border Unuk River no longer teems with eulachon; it experienced a population decline in 2005.


The Alaska Department of Fish and Game states that the reason for the decline is unclear — “little information exists on eulachon in general” — but notes that potential overharvesting is the primary threat to this resource.


Jon Hyde, chief of fish, wildlife, watershed, and botany for the U.S. Forest Service’s Ketchikan Misty Fjords Ranger District, mentioned that scientific studies indicate that “prolonged poor ocean conditions” significantly contributed to the decline, although factors such as ocean temperature fluctuations, overfishing, and commercial bycatch may also affect fish populations.


While eulachon numbers have been improving in recent years, they remain below historical levels. Wagner fears that mining activities across the border could introduce pollutants into the waterway and ultimately jeopardize the delicate fish population permanently.


“The fact that it’s being threatened again,” she said, “is extremely concerning.”


“I don’t speak our language because that was assimilated out,” Wagner lamented. “I don’t know Native songs or dances. My culture was centered around harvesting, and that is gradually fading away as well.”


These rivers are our lifeline

A legacy of mining pollution can make industry claims sound hollow in this region.


In the 1950s, British Columbia’s Tulsequah Chief Mine began contaminating a tributary leading to the salmon-rich Taku River in southeastern Alaska with sulfuric acid and heavy metals. Decades later, the mine continues to leak; the cleanup process has been exceedingly slow.

During a meeting of the bilateral working group in January, Alaska officials “strongly” urged for “meaningful” advancements in reclaiming the site, according to a summary. However, the Canadian company responsible for the cleanup stated it did not yet possess the “detailed technical information” necessary for a comprehensive plan.

The tribes assert their connection to the Tèiḵwèidi Tlingit Clan of the Sàanyàa Ḵwáan, who historically inhabited the Unuk watershed prior to European contact in the 1700s. They cite various forms of evidence, including testimonies from elders, oral histories, and archival documents, to bolster their claims of being the modern-day successors to this lineage. Ramin Pejan, the tribes’ lawyer, emphasizes that Indigenous territories and natural features like rivers transcend political borders. He insists that the impacts of mining projects in British Columbia will inevitably affect the tribes in Alaska, necessitating their inclusion in discussions about these developments.


However, British Columbia officials denied the tribes' request for consultation in June, indicating that a federal policy for engaging with Indigenous groups outside of Canada is still in development. The province's environment ministry has refrained from commenting on this matter, citing limitations on communications during an election period and ongoing court cases.


The federal government has yet to determine the tribes' status, which adds further complexity to the situation. Industry representatives argue that British Columbia's existing environmental assessment processes already accommodate input from external parties. Some companies claim they have attempted to engage with the tribal commission but received no responses.


Brent Murphy, a senior vice president at Seabridge Gold, noted that feedback from Alaskan tribes has led to significant changes in the KSM project’s water-management strategy, resulting in increased costs exceeding $300 million. Additionally, industry advocates point out that the Tahltan First Nation supports many projects within the Golden Triangle, although they did not respond to inquiries regarding this issue.



Chad Norman Day, a former president of the Tahltan central government, expressed understanding for the concerns of Alaskan tribes but disagreed with their claims for official consultation from Canadian authorities.


As they navigate these challenges, the tribes are contemplating their next steps. Louie Wagner and Cindy Wagner from Metlakatla reflect on their deep-rooted connections to fishing and the waterways that have sustained their families for generations. Louie Wagner articulates a poignant hope for future generations: “What I want is that the river is still there for my children and their children.” He laments the loss of endangered species and expresses concern that what remains may fade into mere memories, akin to “pictures in a picture book — like dinosaurs.”

The Mount Polley tailings dam disaster in 2014 serves as a stark reminder of the potential environmental hazards associated with mining operations. The incident released an alarming 25 billion liters of contaminated water into British Columbia's watershed, marking it as the largest mining-waste disaster in Canadian history. For individuals like Heather Hardcastle, an adviser with the environmental advocacy group Salmon Beyond Borders and a lifelong resident of Juneau, Alaska, this event underscores the risks that mining poses to vital ecosystems.


Hardcastle's family has been involved in salmon fishing for generations, and she emphasizes the importance of rivers like the Taku River, referring to them as a "lifeline." This sentiment is echoed by scientists who have raised concerns about the adequacy of mine assessments and permitting policies in Canada, suggesting that they pose significant risks to water quality and aquatic life downstream. Specifically, they point to projects like Seabridge Gold’s Kerr-Sulphurets-Mitchell as potential threats to both fish populations and human communities in Alaska.


While advocates for mining highlight that recent water sampling has shown compliance with Alaska's water quality standards in the Taku, Stikine, and Unuk watersheds, concerns remain about elevated concentrations of harmful metals on the Canadian side. The findings indicate that sediment samples from both sides of the border contain levels of copper, cadmium, selenium, and zinc that exceed guidelines for aquatic life. These discrepancies raise alarms among Alaskan communities that rely on these waterways for their livelihoods and cultural practices.


Will Micklin, representing the Central Council of the Tlingit and Haida Indian Tribes of Alaska, articulates the gravity of the situation by comparing the potential impact of current and future mines to the Mount Polley disaster. The fear is not just about pollution; it’s about a fundamental threat to their way of life.


The narrative of borders complicates matters further. In Metlakatla, Alaska’s only Native reservation, there exists a deep-seated belief among some Indigenous people that the border dividing Canada and the U.S. is arbitrary and artificial. Tazia Wagner, a member of the community, describes the border as a "made-up line," reflecting a shared history that transcends national boundaries. This perspective has fueled efforts by tribes in Southeast Alaska to seek recognition as "Aboriginal peoples of Canada," aiming for a voice in environmental assessments that could affect their ancestral lands.



A recent Supreme Court of Canada ruling suggests that Indigenous groups outside Canada may possess constitutional rights if they are linked to groups that occupied those territories historically. This legal precedent could empower tribes to engage more actively in discussions about mining projects that threaten their resources and cultural heritage.


As concerns about environmental degradation mount, many Indigenous communities are advocating for stronger protections and assurances from mining operations across the border. They seek not only accountability but also a collaborative approach to managing the shared ecosystems that sustain their way of life.

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