- The Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR) is a 19 million acre reserve in the northeastern corner of Alaska that’s renowned for its beauty and wildlife. ANWR also holds great cultural significance to the Native peoples of the region, including the Gwich’in Nation, who for generations have depended on the migratory caribou herd that births and calves its young in the coastal plain of the refuge.
- Bernadette Demientieff is of the Gwichyaa Zhee Gwich’in, a Gwich’in tribe that lives in and around Fort Yukon, a town directly south of ANWR. The Gwich’in are known as “the caribou people” for the significance caribou play in their history, culture, and traditions.
- During a February 2021 interview with Mongabay, Demientieff spoke about the threat oil drilling and climate change pose to Gwich’in way of life.
- “The Gwich’in and the porcupine caribou herd have had a spiritual and cultural connection since time immemorial,” Demientieff said. “Our identity is non negotiable, we will never sell our culture and our traditional lifestyle for any amount of money.”
The Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR) is a 19 million acre reserve in the northeastern corner of Alaska that’s renowned for its beauty and wildlife. ANWR also holds great cultural significance to the Native peoples of the region, including the Gwich’in Nation, who for generations have depended on the migratory caribou herd that births and calves its young in the coastal plain of the refuge. The Gwich’in have thus been some of the staunchest opponents of opening up ANWR to oil drilling.
But in 2017, over the objections of many Indigenous leaders and environmental groups, Congress passed legislation authorizing drilling in ANWR. In January 2021, just days before Joe Biden was to take office, the Trump administration held an auction for the right to drill in the refuge. Interest however was tepid: the sale raised less than $15 million. No oil major participated in the auction.
Of the reasons the oil auction was a bust, the campaign by the Gwich’in was arguably among the most compelling, helping broaden the issue into one of human rights, traditional Indigenous culture, and reverence for wildlife and the landscape. As the Executive Director of Gwich’in Steering Committee, a body established in 1988 in response to proposals to drill in ANWR, Bernadette Demientieff has had a leadership role in the campaign against drilling.
Demientieff is of the Gwichyaa Zhee Gwich’in, a Gwich’in tribe that lives in and around Fort Yukon, a town directly south of ANWR. The Gwichyaa Zhee Gwich’in are one among several tribes that comprise the roughly 9,000 Gwich’in people who live in communities spanning northern Alaska and Canada’s Northwest Territories and Yukon Territory.
The Gwich’in are known as “the caribou people” for the significance caribou play in their history, culture, and traditions. Caribou have provided the Gwich’in with food, shelter, clothes, and tools for thousands of years. Accordingly, the Gwich’in are keenly aware of the importance of the Alaskan coastal plain for the health of caribou populations: ANWR is the birthing grounds for the 200,000-plus Porcupine herd.
“The Gwich’in and the porcupine caribou herd have had a spiritual and cultural connection since time immemorial,” Demientieff told Mongabay. “We migrated alongside them for over 40,000 years. Our communities and the migration route are nearly identical. Our ancestors settled us so we can continue to live and thrive off the land and animals.”
“Our identity is non negotiable, we will never sell our culture and our traditional lifestyle for any amount of money.”
Stopping oil drilling in ANWR is one of only several things that Demientieff says needs to be done, including securing the area as a permanent, protected reserve and combating climate change, which is already having dramatic impacts on Gwich’in communities.
“We have seen changes not just within Gwich’in territory but within our coastal communities as well,” she said. “Many are falling into the ocean. We have hunters falling through ice when the waters and lakes should be solid.”
Demientieff spoke about these issues and more during a February 2021 interview with Mongabay founder Rhett A. Butler.
AN INTERVIEW WITH BERNADETTE DEMIENTIEFF
Mongabay: Where are you from and where do you live?
Bernadette Demientieff: I’m from Gwichyaa Zhee (Fort Yukon) Alaska. I currently live in Fairbanks Alaska.
You are currently Executive Director of the Gwich’in Steering Committee. What does that role entail?
Yes I began as the part time admin assistant and worked my way into the Executive Director role.
The Gwich’in call the coastal plain, Iizhik Gwats’an Gwandaii Goodlit, “The Sacred Place Where Life Begins.” Could you explain the significance of this region in your culture?
The Gwich’in and the porcupine caribou herd have had a spiritual and cultural connection since time immemorial. We migrated alongside them for over 40,000 years. Our communities and the migration route are nearly identical. Our ancestors settled us so we can continue to live and thrive off the land and animals.
Efforts to drill in this area have persisted for decades and toward the end of the Trump Administration, it looked like the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge would be opened up. But a couple of days ago we learned that plans for seismic surveys in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge were scuttled because Kaktovik Inupiat Corp (KIC) didn’t complete the required field work. What’s your current outlook for the area as far as drilling is concerned?
I think as Alaska Natives we must remember that our survival is the land, the water, and the animals. Not oil. We can not live off oil.
We must always remember that we all migrated throughout these lands and we do not own it. The Creator blessed us to caretake and protect His Creation.
Energy extraction of course isn’t the only threat to the lands stewarded by the Gwich’in. How is climate change affecting Gwich’in communities?
We have seen changes not just within Gwich’in territory but within our coastal communities as well. Many are falling into the ocean. We have hunters falling through ice when the waters and lakes should be solid. Sinkholes are opening up. Dead fish are appearing in our lakes and rivers. We’ve experienced record breaking fires.
And what are your long-term hopes for the area?
Permanent protection for our animals. The “Arctic National Wildlife Refuge” says it all. If this place was actually set aside as Alaska non-indigenous leaders claim, then wouldn’t it be called a reserve instead of a refuge?
Historically there have been tensions when the conservation sector has not respected — or even undermined — Indigenous peoples’ rights and traditional practices when established protected areas. How has this issue played out in Gwich’in territory?
We don’t have the option of giving. This is not a 9-5 job for us. We are concerned about the future of our children in our own homelands.
Beyond ANWR, what are issues you’d like to see the Biden Administration prioritize when it comes to the environment and Indigenous peoples?
Respect for our ways of life, acknowledgment that we matter and that our identity as indigenous peoples hold value and will not be sold off.
In some of the regions where Mongabay has reporters, we’ve heard that it can sometimes be challenging to interest young people in their traditional culture and practices. Is this an issue in the communities where you work? And if so, what are some of the strategies for increasing engagement of younger generations?
I don’t know where that came from but we have many young Alaska natives willing and ready to learn their culture.
My son was out hunting on his own at 12. Our culture and ways of life still exist.
What advice would you give for someone who wants to be an ally in supporting Indigenous Peoples’ rights?
Take the time to learn to connect. Don’t listen to hear but listen to learn and remember climate change don’t care what color you are; if you are rich or poor. We are all going to be negatively impacted and that it’s time we put our differences aside and come together and work as one so our children will have a chance at survival.