In the summer of 2023, Canada experienced unusual wildfires that ravaged land from the western tip of British Columbia to the eastern edge of Nova Scotia. A staggering 6,132 fires consumed 16.5 million hectares of land, surpassing the previous record set during the 1989 wildfire season of 7.6 million hectares. Fueled by dry conditions, particularly in the Northern regions, the fires devastated vast swathes of the nation’s prominent boreal forests, which account for 28 percent of the world’s remaining intact boreal zone. While wildfires are not uncommon in these forests, the scale of destruction this year serves as a stark reminder of the looming threat of severe climate conditions exacerbated by the climate crisis.
The media’s response to the wildfires has taken a number of different tacks. Some outlets emphasized the severe loss of biodiversity from habitat destruction and the reduction of carbon reserves due to diminished vegetation cover. The New York Times extensively covered the economic toll, including the closure of tourist sites and the disruptions to power distribution in densely populated areas. Meanwhile, the BBC focused on the evacuation efforts, particularly in West Kelowna and Yellowknife, where a substantial number of residents were compelled to flee their homes.
Nevertheless, the media neglected to cover the wildfires’ rampant destruction of indigenous lands, and, with them, communities, cultures, and economies. Lost in the shuffle of mainstream coverage of mass destruction of infrastructure were stories on mass destruction of communities, as the fires displaced and disrupted numerous Cree settlements in Quebec.
This lack of media coverage is merely the most recent instance in a long-standing pattern of marginalization of Indigenous voices. To reintroduce these voices into mainstream narratives is not merely to highlight some stories of destruction but to unpack the experience, knowledge, and practices of Cree communities that have faced wildfires for generations and preserved their land under adverse conditions. Cultural burning is one such practice, whereby the Cree ‘groom’ their land by setting low-intensity fires that have the effect of creating knock-on benefits for the environment and preventing more catastrophic fires. Tethered to traditions such as Sundance ceremonies, in which the Cree dance around a sacred fire and endure physical and spiritual tests, cultural burning literally illuminates the Cree nation’s sacred and profound relationship with fire. For the Cree, fire is not a destructive force but a vital element of the environment. Cree communities have long relied on controlled burns to enrich biodiversity, regulate fuel loads, and foster ecological resilience. Additionally, cultural practices like the Sundance ritual underscore the multifaceted significance of fire within Indigenous traditions, serving as both a practical tool for environmental stewardship and a spiritual conduit for cultural expression and connection to the natural world.
However, colonial authorities repressed Indigenous cultural practices during their colonization of Indigenous lands. The imposition of the Bush Fire Act of 1874 effectively outlawed all cultural burns, as European settlers viewed fire as inherently detrimental to forests and imposed their own norms onto Indigenous populations. Consequently, despite their proven efficacy and cultural significance, cultural burns were unjustly omitted from official wildfire management strategies.
There is also much to be gleaned from Indigenous peoples regarding their broader perception of land, contrasting with the Western view of land solely as an economic asset. For Indigenous peoples such as the Cree, land serves not only as a source of sustenance but also as the foundation of Indigenous culture, spirituality, and identity. Cree communities, for instance, establish spiritual covenants with land, water, plants, and animals, delineating reciprocal relationships that govern the coexistence of all life forms. The concept of reciprocity underscores the importance of humans giving back to the land. Cree communities pursue development in their territories while protecting vital habitats, such as the flight paths of geese. They achieve this by constructing dikes in wetlands, creating spaces where geese can feed and rest during their migration. Upholding this reciprocity, Cree spirituality finds expression through a multitude of ceremonies, songs, and personal sacrifices that are integral to their cultural heritage.
Since the colonial era of the 17th century, colonists have coined terms like “Manifest Destiny” and “American Exceptionalism,” suggesting an inherent entitlement to expand westward and spread their civilization and ideals of freedom. These ideologies propelled settlers to the Western frontier in the 19th century with the intent of spreading their principles of democracy, religion, and capitalism. Thomas Jefferson held the belief that indigenous communities were culturally inferior due to his perception that their communal agricultural practices failed to optimize land efficiency. This viewpoint was shared by many colonists, who fostered the perception of nature as something to be tamed rather than appreciating its intrinsic value. Capitalist ideals further contributed to land and resource exploitation for economic growth, perpetuating this mindset of economic efficiency over environmental sustainability. Consequently, Indigenous communities, such as the Cree, were forcibly relocated to reservations and pressured to adopt American lifestyles, resulting in the erosion of indigenous traditions and land management practices.
The devastating wildfires in Canada in 2023 serve as a poignant reminder of the need to recognize and incorporate Indigenous perspectives into our response to environmental crises. By embracing Indigenous wisdom about how to preserve land and how to understand the relationship between land and people, we can foster a more holistic and sustainable approach to environmental stewardship. In the words of Alanis Obomsawin, an Abenaki filmmaker, “When the last tree is cut down, the last fish eaten, and the last stream poisoned, you will realize that you cannot eat money.”