Mike McKenzie felt that he had to leave his home. He says he was no longer welcome in Skeetchestn, a community in central British Columbia west of Kamloops that鈥檚 one of 17 reserves in Secwepemc Nation. Three years later, he鈥檚 still not home.
His uprooting was by choice, but not by preference. McKenzie said he felt compelled to leave due to tensions around his outspoken opposition to the Trans Mountain expansion project, which is building a second pipeline to pump heavy oil from Alberta鈥檚 tar sands to a tanker terminal near Vancouver.
Opposition comes with conflict since the project has also amassed considerable support within Secwepemc Nation. Some elected chiefs representing Secwepemc reserves say its environmental risks are manageable, and four signed long-term agreements for shared benefits between their communities and the pipeline. Meanwhile, some of the more traditional leaders within First Nations are opposed.
鈥淚'm not living in my nation right now. And I can't live in my nation right now,鈥 said McKenzie. He stays away, he says, because he feels unsafe there 鈥 that he is targeted and harassed by local police.
McKenzie and other Indigenous opponents of the Trans Mountain pipeline comprise the vanguard of a network of eco-activists, local governments, economists and lawyers fighting new pipeline infrastructure under construction in British Columbia. Opponents decry how two new pipelines -- the Trans Mountain expansion and a natural gas pipeline farther north, Coastal GasLink -- will lock in decades of dangerous greenhouse gas emissions and, they say, compromise Indigenous land rights.
They are blockading roads and construction sites and even banks financing Trans Mountain. Some involved in the civil disobedience reject the label 鈥減rotesters.鈥 They call themselves 鈥渓and defenders.鈥 And 95% of British Columbia鈥檚 lands are unceded by First Nations, meaning they never signed away rights to the land and thus retain some title under Canadian law.
With both pipelines already under construction, they are fighting seemingly long odds. But pipeline activists have beaten tough odds before. While federal courts and the government pipeline regulator have defeated numerous challenges put forward by the activists, they recognize that a pipeline has zero value until its last mile is connected. 鈥淚n order to be 1% useful, it needs to be 100% complete,鈥 said lawyer Eugene Kung of West Coast Environmental Law.
If the anti-pipeline network is to succeed, Indigenous leadership will be pivotal. For them, this fight is deeply spiritual.
McKenzie鈥檚 spiritual connection to the land where he grew up harvesting fish and berries drove him to host rallies and candlelit vigils in Kamloops to oppose Trans Mountain. McKenzie鈥檚 elders taught him the Secwepemc law, , which translates to 鈥渢he land (and sky) will turn on you鈥 if you disrespect the land.
McKenzie鈥檚 breaking point came when his dad, a Skeetchestn , came under pressure to sign agreements supporting Trans Mountain, which he declined. The pressure was more intense because his son, living right there in his house, was a leading face of pipeline opposition.
McKenzie left home to relieve the pressure on his parents. Although he can鈥檛 return home, he says he must keep fighting.
As McKenzie put it: 鈥淲e have to protect the land and the water no matter what. Our survival depends on it."
Trudeau Takes Over
The ongoing battle against the Trans Mountain expansion and Coastal GasLink is part of a broader protest movement that for a decade.
Now British Columbia鈥檚 twin pipeline projects appear poised to punch two big holes in what activists called their Thin Green Line against fossil-fuel exports from North America鈥檚 western coast.
Coastal GasLink is designed to feed natural gas from the province鈥檚 northeastern gas-fracking fields to an export terminal under construction near Kitimat, B.C., about 110 kilometres southeast of Prince Rupert. Coastal GasLink ignited a national uprising last year, when people across Canada orchestrated blockades and demonstrations to support hereditary chiefs from Wet鈥檚uwet鈥檈n Nation who oppose the project 鈥 tensions that remain unresolved.
The fate of B.C.鈥檚 fossil fuel megaprojects 鈥 along with comparable developments worldwide 鈥 will help determine whether greenhouse gases can be slashed to contain the threat of catastrophic climate change. Climate scientists and, increasingly, even traditionally conservative energy planners such as the Paris-based International Energy Agency, say building new fossil fuel infrastructure undermines climate action.
B.C.鈥檚 pipelines broke through with forceful government backing. Full-throated provincial endorsement launched Coastal GasLink, owned by Calgary-based TC Energy, in 2018. The same year, Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau鈥檚 C$4.5-billion acquisition of Trans Mountain secured its expansion project just after the Indigenous activists and their allies, against seemingly impossible odds, hounded the pipeline鈥檚 original developer, Texas-based Kinder Morgan, into essentially abandoning the project.
鈥淭his is a pipeline in the national interest and it will get built,鈥 . The federal takeover changed the playbook for pipeline resistance.
鈥淥ur strategy was 鈥 making the projects such a headache [that] the companies were willing to abandon them. We got to that point with Trans Mountain. But we didn't prepare for a world in which the federal government bought the pipeline and assumed all the risk around it,鈥 said Sven Biggs of Stand.earth, an activist group operating from offices in Vancouver, San Francisco and Bellingham, Washington.
The significance of Trudeau's move is hard to overstate. Trans Mountain鈥檚 expansion will triple its capacity from 300,000 barrels per day to 890,000 barrels per day. The new line terminates at a shipping terminal in Burnaby, east of Vancouver, where the oil can be shipped for refining in Asia, and spur lines and barges also link the pipeline to Washington state's refineries.
Mark Jaccard, a sustainable energy professor at Simon Fraser University, that producing tar sands oil known as bitumen and pumping it to Burnaby would release the equivalent of 7.7 million metric tons of CO2 per year in Alberta and B.C. 鈥 as much as 2.2 million cars 鈥 while refining, distributing and burning the bitumen would release another 71 million metric tons overseas.
Farther north, the 670-kilometre-long Coastal GasLink pipeline is designed to initially carry 2.1 billion cubic feet of natural gas each day to Kitimat. There, the fracked gas is to be liquified for export, emitting 4 million metric tons of CO2 annually. The capacity of the pipeline and export facility could be expanded in future phases.
Trans Mountain and Coastal GasLink began building in 2019 and intend to begin pumping by the end of 2022 and in 2023, respectively. Each is roughly one-quarter built, but work has slowed recently amidst environmental violations and safety incidents, including some connected to the coronavirus pandemic.
Anti-pipeline activists say the arrival of COVID-19 has cut both ways for their cause. On the one hand, it鈥檚 distracted people and made organizing harder.
On the other hand, in December the provincial health authority ordered B.C.'s pipeline projects to to reduce COVID-19 transmission. Safety regulators also ordered at Trans Mountain after a second serious worksite accident in recent months.
In January, the province ordered an , after officials discovered compliance violations and risks to watersheds along the pipeline route.
As of early last month, 76 kilometres of the Trans Mountain route 鈥 8% of the total 鈥 remained to be finalized. A First Nation situated approximately 100 kilometres southwest of Kamloops is holding hearings on the risks Trans Mountain poses to its drinking water aquifer. The Coldwater band, a reserve in Nlaka鈥檖amux Nation territory, is pushing Canada Energy Regulator .
Confrontation here, there, everywhere
Confrontation continues. On the coast and in interior B.C., people are regularly arrested for obstructing Trans Mountain work sites.
Frequent activity occurs in Burnaby, B.C., the terminus of Trans Mountain in the traditional territory of the Tsleil-Waututh Nation. Coast Salish community members occupy , where they keep vigil and host ceremonies to oppose the project. About five kilometres south of the watch house, activists inhabit a treehouse camp from which they work to delay Trans Mountain鈥檚 plan to clear roughly 1,300 trees adjacent to the salmon-bearing Brunette River.
Further resistance occurs along the pipeline route, such as in Secwepemc territory, where a group is fighting Trans Mountain from a near the Blue River community, 175 kilometres northeast of Kamloops.
Southwest of that camp, Romilly Cavanaugh was arrested in October with others after chaining herself to a worksite gate to delay construction. An environmental engineer who briefly worked for Trans Mountain in the 1990s, Cavanaugh said she got involved on the frontlines because she had no other choice. 鈥淭here is no way to take a dirty industry like that and make it clean,鈥 she said.
Cavanaugh cites the carbon emissions the pipelines will spur and limited advancements in technology for cleaning up oil spills. Trans Mountain will increase tanker traffic by at least sevenfold in the Salish Sea waters shared by the U.S. and Canada.
Data from the International Tanker Owners Pollution Federation and Transport Canada lends credence to Cavanaugh鈥檚 concern. According to both and , no more than 15% of oil is recovered in a typical spill. And spill recovery may be even lower for spills of the diluted bitumen carried by Trans Mountain, which is the heaviest form of crude. It tends to sink to the bottom.
鈥淔rom my perspective, civil disobedience is the only option we have left,鈥 said Cavanaugh.
Other activists continue hammering the financial front, with a little help from Trudeau. The Prime Minister in December, but heightened climate action by his government may not ease the pressure on B.C.鈥檚 pipeline projects. In fact, in the hands of expert activism, it may do the opposite.
More than 100 Canadian economists and policy experts to Trudeau questioning the viability of the Trans Mountain expansion in September 2020. The letter noted weakened oil demand amidst the pandemic and doubts from oil giants such as Shell and BP about whether demand would 鈥渇ully recover鈥 after COVID-19. It also cited to limit global warming.
Meanwhile, federal agencies and auditors have sharpened the experts鈥 attack on Trans Mountain鈥檚 viability. Just before Trudeau鈥檚 climate policy announcement, Canada Energy Regulator, the agency that oversees the Trans Mountain expansion, reported that tougher policies might cut oil use and thus .
The Parliamentary Budget Officer echoed that finding a few weeks after Trudeau鈥檚 announcement, writing that the federal government could under strengthened climate policy.
Adding uncertainty to the financial stability of the project, at least three of the pipeline鈥檚 11 big insurers recently walked away from Trans Mountain, under .
鈥淲e will always be here鈥
In October, two days after Cavanaugh鈥檚 arrest, Miranda Dick laid down a blanket outside a Trans Mountain gate near Mission Flats, B.C., a community adjacent to the Thompson River, which Trans Mountain has drilled beneath repeatedly to install pipe. On the blanket, Dick鈥檚 sister cut her hair off. Moments later, she was arrested with others for breaching an injunction prohibiting unauthorized access to Trans Mountain work sites.
The 489-kilometre-long Thompson River is salmon-supporting streams and rivers in the Fraser River watershed transected by Trans Mountain. It hosts one of the largest Sockeye salmon runs in the world. The resulting threat to salmon populations is the project鈥檚 single greatest risk, says Dick, the daughter of hereditary Chief Sawses, who was also arrested two days prior.
鈥淚 want to protect clean water for the salmon and our livelihoods, not to mention the other links in the chain. The bears, the eagles, everything that lives off of salmon,鈥 said Dick.
Dick says her hair collected knowledge in the two and a half years she grew it out -- knowledge she let go of that day. She said the ceremony symbolizes the grief and loss Trans Mountain brings her.
Secwepemc people have opposed Trans Mountain since 2013, asserting Secwepemc law on historically occupied lands that were never ceded to Canadian governments. They follow hereditary leadership, traditional governance systems that vary between nations. Title and authority passes down generationally through families but is also 鈥済ranted on merit鈥 after 鈥渕any years of training in culture and tradition,鈥 according to . Hereditary leaders retain the authority to oversee their nations鈥 ancestral territories.
But some elected chiefs and band councils have chosen their own path on pipeline projects for their reserves 鈥 colonial land set-asides and Indigenous governments under Canada鈥檚 Indian Act. As of February 2020, 58 First Nations had signed 鈥渕utual benefit" agreements with Trans Mountain.
The Whispering Pines Clinton Indian Band is one of four Secwepemc reserves with a signed agreement. Its elected chief, Mike LeBourdais, represents one of . His community will receive a share of operating revenue from the project, which he said would support education efforts, elders鈥 retirement programs, and environmental oversight of the pipeline.
In an interview with InvestigateWest, LeBourdais said he signed the benefit agreement because he wants to have agency in the project. He said his lawyers assured him the project would be approved regardless of the circumstances.
鈥淭his is what I'm fighting for 鈥 to be in the conversation. In the economy of British Columbia and Canada,鈥 he said.
Such divisions place the projects on unsteady ground, as the unresolved conflicts over the Coastal GasLink pipeline show. Central to the conflict is the RCMP鈥檚 arrests of Wet鈥檚uwet鈥檈n land defenders in their territory, which galvanized a solidarity movement of blockades and rallies across the country.
The tension began to rise sharply in 2019, a year before the Canada-wide protests. On Jan. 8, 2019, RCMP officers breached a camp in Wet鈥檚uwet鈥檈n territory established in 2018 to oppose Coastal GasLink. The RCMP came armed with a court injunction and made 14 arrests.
Sleydo鈥 Molly Wickham, a member of the Wet鈥檚uwet鈥檈n Nation, was among those arrested that day. She recalls being 鈥渟urprised and horrified鈥 by the intensity of conflict.
Wickham鈥檚 clan, the Gidimt鈥檈n, is one of five clans within Wet鈥檚uwet鈥檈n Nation. Hereditary chiefs representing all five clans are united in their opposition to Coastal GasLink. Since 2006, they have opposed all pipeline proposals in their territory, noting efforts to protect water, wildlife and their livelihoods.
And it is the centuries-old hereditary system that holds territorial power, as recognized even by Canadian law under a 1997 Supreme Court stating that hereditary governance represents 鈥渁ll of the Wet鈥檚uwet鈥檈n people.鈥
Yet, Coastal GasLink signed mutual benefit agreements with five out of the six chiefs elected by the federally created Wet鈥檚uwet鈥檈n bands. (The company also says it has awarded C$825 million in contracts to Indigenous and local businesses.)
Thus, the tensions were already high by February 2020 when the RCMP arrested about two dozen people in Wet'suwet'en territory to enforce a new project injunction. The conflict ignited national backlash. Mass demonstrations in solidarity with the Wet鈥檚uwet鈥檈n blocked highways, ports, rail lines and other infrastructure from coast to coast, for as long as five weeks. Rallies disrupted traffic, universities and legislatures.
The conflict abated in March when the Canadian and B.C. governments opened negotiations with the Wet'suwet'en over their land claims. But conflict could erupt again without warning.
The persistent threat of an uprising has even some ardent pipeline supporters seeing the opposition holding the upper hand. One Alberta columnist that only Indigenous ownership can secure Trans Mountain's success, calling on Alberta鈥檚 premier to 鈥渃onvince the Trudeau Liberals to quickly strike a deal on Trans Mountain鈥 with First Nations groups.
Wickham says it鈥檚 鈥渋nevitable鈥 conflict will flare up on Wet'suwet'en territory again since her community has not agreed to stand down. B.C. Premier John Horgan has presented the liquified natural gas sector as an , and currently .
Two of those projects would cross Wet鈥檚uwet鈥檈n territory. The Wet鈥檚uwet鈥檈n hereditary leaders, noted Wickham, oppose both.
鈥淲et鈥檚uwet'en will never ever go away. We will always be here,鈥 said Wickham.