Dakota Tipi descends into anarchy

School Burnt and ransacked, stores razed, violence escalates

BY LEN KRUZENGA

Dakota Tipi First Nation -The October 2002 election intended to bring stability to the political and social fabric of the tiny reserve of less than 80 Sioux and Dakota people, who live just a stone's throw away from Manitoba's fifth largest city, appears to have instead completely unravelled into the very anarchy it aimed to prevent as a confrontation on the steps of its primary school on January 3 turned violent and bloody.

The melee, which eventually involved over two dozen people from 20-year-olds to elders-caught on camera by a Winnipeg CBC TV crew-left at least a half-dozen people injured and three individuals, including a newly elected band councillor and a former councillor and one other male-all members of the same family-facing criminal charges.

The confrontation occurred as members of the recently elected band government, councillors David and Edward Pashe as well as band manager, Marjorie Prince, and a half-dozen other of their supporters attended the school with a locksmith, they say, to secure the building after it had been vandalized the night before.

"We were attempting to have the locks changed on the building because people were getting into the school and vandalizing it, smashing windows, stealing equipment and we had to protect the school's assets," said Councillor Edward Pashe. "That's when a bunch of people came at us with baseball bats, golf clubs and chair legs and began assaulting us."
The newly elected band councillor-who only recently moved back to the reserve a year ago from Brandon-says his group was forced to defend themselves.

However, a broadcast version of the event, which the Dakota Ojibway Police Service (DOPS), who currently police the reserve under a contract- itself a matter of heated contention-currently under review as part of their investigation clearly demonstrates that the bad blood between members of the community for decades shows little promise of subsiding.

With both sides seemingly ill-prepared to break the cycle of anger, violence and confrontation that has plagued the community-garnering it a widespread reputation for corruption, unchecked violence, incessant intimidation of children and seniors, and late night gunfire considered routine-the community is on the brink of complete chaos.

In fact, the fallout during the last 12 months of intense internal fighting between factions which supported and opposed the leadership of former Chief Dennis Pashe, who ruled the reserve for nearly three decades, has left the community's only gas bar and convenience store, a thrift store, its school, bingo palace and recreational centre either in ruins-gutted by fire-or so badly vandalized and looted that they cannot be operated.

And the band's health clinic and pharmacy, as well as its child and family services office have been either been abandoned, with employees too scared to even attempt to keep them operating, or vacated entirely.

As a result the only service that could be even remotely described as partially functional and open to the community is the band office, which remained locked and inaccessible for the first four weeks after the election due to infighting between the newly elected chief, Cornell Pashe, and councillors

The band had been placed under third-party management last year when INAC Minister Robert Nault took the extraordinary step of ordering a band election for the reserve that had been governed under its own custom code for nearly three decades. It continues to have its affairs controlled by a third-party manager after a discovery that the band's deficit was over $3.5 million dollars and rising.

As a result the three member chief and council and the half-dozen band employees are not receiving salaries for their positions and are forced to survive on band welfare payments ranging from only $150-$300 per month.

In a December interview with the Drum, Assistant Regional Director General for INAC, Mary Blais, said arrangements were being made with the third-party manager and the new council to arrange for salaries for the council and administration workers.

However, that hasn't occurred, due in large part to the failure of the council to work together and set aside any personal disputes.

The continual infighting is typified by a recently passed Band Council Resolution (BCR) that stripped Chief Cornell Pashe of most of his powers and accused the chief of refusing to attend the band office and assume his duties or to meet with the council.

However Cornell Pashe-a former councillor and administrator under the Dennis Pashe regime-says the threat of violence and the confrontational nature of the new councillor and the band manager have made it impossible to work together.

One of the community's few sources of outside revenue, the band's bingo palace, has been shut down, forced by the investigation of its gaming activities-including the disbursement of VLT revenues-by the province, which controls its gaming license. Cornell Pashe was the former manager of the palace.

For off-reserve member William Hall-himself a candidate for chief in the last election-and his family, who have been waging a decades-long struggle to regain their right to participate in the community they say they were forcibly exiled from at gun point in the 1970s, the situation is tragic.

"The people are so used to using intimidation and violence in their actions that they're locked into a cycle of confrontation that threatens to reduce everything to ruins."

And Hall says the chaos and violence of the past two years plays into the hands of the federal government and the mainstream public who insist first nations are neither equipped nor capable of governing themselves.

"All this has done is to play into the hands of those who claim we can't govern ourselves. Looking at the situation. How could anyone argue that point?"

The roots of the crisis however, stretch back nearly four decades when the band government at the time deliberately executed a purge of families considered a threat to the unfettered power of the chief and council.

Hall and his siblings-only children in the late 1960s-vividly recall the evening armed men broke into their reserve home to beat their stepfather at gunpoint and forcibly evict the entire family from their reserve.

"That's how they got rid of people who opposed some of the things going on the reserve. They simply terrorized the families into leaving and then moved other people into the houses so no one could come back," he said.

As a result the population is now primarily comprised of two families, the largest being the Pashes, who make up over 80 per cent of the band's members.

The removal of the other family groups who made up the band and who can trace their history back to pre-reserve status days, says Hall, only made the struggle for control and power on the reserve a bitter and confusing family-feud pitting fathers against sons and brother against brother.

It's a point conceded by current councillors Edward and David Pashe, who say personal reconciliation is integral to the future of the community.

"It's gotten so bad over the last couple of decades that the children are actually continuing the cycle of violence and retribution," said Edward Pashe, who insists the community's first priority must be to bring law and order back to the reserve by getting the RCMP to police the community.

"DOPS has been a complete disaster. No one in the community has any confidence in their ability to enforce the law and to police it free of political interference," he said.

In fact, justice and police sources say the RCMP are poised to return to the reserve but, are not expected to return until the end of January.

And the handling of the ongoing crisis at Dakota Tipi by INAC's Manitoba Regional Office has been roundly and uniformly criticized by all the combatants in the community as well as first nations political organizations, citizens of neighbouring Portage La Prairie, editorial writers and even staff within INAC itself.

"This is a small community, less than 100 people with problems that reflect what many first nations are experiencing and yet the department or first nations political organizations haven't shown up with any practical ground level assistance for the community to clean things up," noted one INAC source, who spoke on condition of anonymity.

"It's been a disaster from the start. They're simply reacting here instead of taking the time to head off the problem before it started. The people haven't been allowed to participate in the administration or governance of their own community for decades and after the election we expected what, that suddenly the people would be able to sort the mess out on their own with no practical support? It's ludicrous and shameful, " said the veteran bureaucrat.

And first nations political organizations have also been roundly criticized for not providing technical assistance to the new council or providing mediation resources.

It's a point conceded by SCO Grand Chief Margaret Swan, who noted that the lack of resources at organizations such as the SCO make it next to impossible to provide practical ground level support for communities in crisis such as Dakota Tipi.

"It's an issue that I've been trying to raise some support for in our organization and among the chiefs in general because it's obvious that the government is not prepared to live up to their duties and obligations. It's one thing to take control of a reserve, to order an election, to place it under third-party management and then simply walk away from it by not
committing any meaningful human resources to assist the community in making the difficult transition from near chaos to some form of order," she said.

Yet Swan says she's prepared to sit down with the members of the new council to urge them to set aside their differences for the sake of the community.

While an attempt to interview AMC Grand Chief Dennis Whitebird was unsuccessful by press time, Dakota Tipi members have been highly critical of his lack of leadership or visibility.

"He's been completely invisible for the last two years when this issue began heating up and even now seems to prefer instead to sacrifice the future of this community for the sake of his own political agenda, of using us to call down the federal government," said Patrick Hall, who notes the AMC has spent decades ignoring the flagrant abuse of the human rights of on and off-reserve first nations people by its own member chiefs.

"That's not leadership. The AMC should be ashamed of itself. They spent over $35 million dollars on a self-government initiative that simply injected money into their organization, that supported all sorts of bogus job titles and projects and now refuse to lift one finger to provide this little community with even moral support.

"At least you have to give Margaret Swan credit. She offered to meet with the people here nearly two years ago and got beaten up for it by other chiefs. Whitebird and his group have only done one thing and that was to support a request for an injunction to keep the people of this reserve from a general assembly here," Hall added.

"That should tell you a lot about the priorities of the AMC and the Grand Chief. They're always busy blaming someone else but won't lift a finger to really help their own people."

INAC's regional office has been widely singled out by critics and observers on all sides for its failure to properly assess the situation at Dakota Tipi from the onset.

"They essentially allowed previous band administrations to do what ever they wanted and didn't enforce financial reporting requirements or accountability. So you had a community that pretty much flouted all the rules for decades. Then when people finally had enough and forced a regime change, the department, instead of providing the new leadership with the capacity and tools to make a positive change, simply cut us loose," said councillor Edward Pashe. "The nepotism, corruption and violence are systemic and everyone knew it and now that the latest outbreak of violence made national TV, suddenly everyone's sitting up and saying 'hey, we think there's a problem.'"

The indifference of the media, both Aboriginal and mainstream, is also singled out as contributing to the morass the community finds itself in.

"Most of the Aboriginal media simply refused to cover this story at all, but were always quick to spout the former chief and council's b-s that this was a progressive, secure and peaceful community Our own media was the worst and now that it's so bad it can't be ignored, they're being forced to cover it," said William Hall. "And the mainstream media has been just as bad. This type of violence isn't unusual, it's normal out here and yet it comes as a complete surprise to the mainstream who'll use it for a little while and then tire of it again."

In the meantime the Halls say they'll continue to do whatever is required to return their families to the reserve to participate in the governance of their community, noting that while the level of distrust on all sides remains high, the alternative to dialogue and reconciliation is the complete disintegration of the reserve.

"We have to be prepared to help ourselves first and to commit to building a future for our children and grandchildren. For the off-reserve members such as ourselves it's always what we have been about in trying to return to our community.

"Now it's up to the people on the reserve to reject the ways things have been done for so long. All that has done is bring misery and suffering to everyone."