Image credit: Cree Nation of Nemaska
While his visit to Eeyou Istchee was primarily for a renaming ceremony of the Eastmain hydroelectric complex, it was Premier François Legault’s memorable experience in Nemaska that may help build a better relationship between the Cree Nation and Quebec government.
On September 15, the Eastmain dam and generating station were renamed the Bernard Landry hydroelectric development. The adjacent basin was renamed the Paix des Braves reservoir in commemoration of the 2002 agreement between the Cree Nation and the PQ government led by Landry.
Former Grand Chief Ted Moses spoke about developing a close relationship with Landry through visits to each other’s homes and reminisced about travelling around his family’s trapline along the river that was dammed. Robert Kanatewat added further context regarding negotiations with the province for the James Bay and Northern Quebec Agreement.
“I paid tribute to our ancestors to honour the life and spirit that flowed through the river before the dams,” said Deputy Grand Chief Norman A. Wapachee. “To reflect on how much the Cree went through. I mentioned the wampum belt with two vessels using the same river, the balance between progress and preservation.”
Legault, who served in Landry’s cabinet at the time, said he was inspired by the strong partnership that his late predecessor developed with the Cree Nation. With Hydro-Québec seeking to double its capacity in the coming years, Wapachee said there remain sensitive issues to discuss before collaborating on proposed wind energy projects.
Since the renaming ceremony coincided with Nemaska’s 47th anniversary celebrations, Chief Clarence Jolly arranged with Indigenous Affairs Minister Ian Lafrenière for the dignitaries to pay a visit to the community’s former village where the Rupert River widens into Lake Nemiscau. Coming to a remote Indigenous community with no idea of what to expect, Legault and his wife Isabelle Brais were visibly taken aback by the beautiful village and warm welcome.
Greeted by community members arriving by canoe to re-enact the new village’s founding, Nemaska director general George Wapachee said it was “like they were visiting Shangri-La in the middle of Quebec.” After asking about Nemaska’s history on the ride over, it was apparently only in the shaptuan when Wapachee told the story of their displacement that Legault realized that it was because of hydro development.
“I could see Legault trying to put these puzzle pieces together,” said Norman Wapachee. “Isabelle was a really good listener and helped him understand. What touched me was he said after 47 years, if somebody treated me like that, I would still be angry today. That room was full, and you could see all the smiles and excitement.”
Entering the banquet hall to a surprising standing ovation, Legault impressed with his “down-to-earth” nature and easy humour. As he munched on smoked sturgeon, he could be found mingling among community members, asking questions, sharing jokes and posing for selfies. A mechanical bull added to the festivities this summer brought more laughter.
“We were in a celebratory mood so let politics aside,” explained George Wapachee. “He’s very approachable. We’ve got some allies on our side now. At the end of his speech, he quoted the Terminator movie: ‘I’ll be back’.”
Riding together from the Route du Nord into Nemaska, Wapachee hinted to the premier that the first six kilometres of dusty gravel road is under provincial jurisdiction while the paved part after Champion Lake is federal. He hopes to build further understanding through giving Legault the book he co-authored with Susan Marshall: Going Home, The Untold Story of Nemaska Eenouch.
The 600-page historical account, researched and compiled over 15 years, was published by the community in 2022. The trauma begins when Nemaska people were scattered to the outskirts of Waskaganish and Mistissini between 1970 and 1977 in deplorable conditions, severing social ties and fuelling tensions between communities.
“Something that struck me, [Legault] asked, ‘Did Hydro-Québec tell you what they were doing?’” Wapachee recounted. “No, they never said anything. Workers doing feasibility studies told us, ‘You’ll be underwater, swimming around like the beavers.’”
In those days, Nemaska was under federal jurisdiction with the Quebec government out of the picture until they started looking for rivers to dam. Indian Affairs indirectly used the Indians of Quebec Association to tell Nemaska to move. Fearing the fate of Ouje-Bougoumou’s countless displacements, they asked themselves whether it would be the Grand Council or Indian Affairs to relocate them.
“But there is a third option – let’s go home ourselves,” recalled Wapachee. “It’s nothing new to what Crees did every year in those days. We all camped together in tents, had a big meeting and came up with a community plan.”
While the JBNQA enabled them to create their own community, Indian Affairs preferred a less costly option closer to existing roadways and refused to pay for a new road. Elders selected the site between Champion Lake and a stream, which later protected them from forest fires while IA’s proposed sites burned.
Although the Nemaska people were happy to have a home for the community, even if it was temporarily in tents, the insufficient funding and unrealistic deadlines for community-building caused many problems. Lacking clean water and sewage systems, four children died from a gastroenteritis outbreak in the early 1980s.
“It happened because of the conditions imposed, that if you don’t move, you’re going to lose your right to move,” lamented Wapachee. “Somebody has to account for what happened to the people. It’s not settled. [Legault] seems to realize the wrong done to our people a long time ago.”
While Hydro-Québec kept Nemaska from returning to their original home, it was of course never flooded and remains a popular summer destination. There are even initiatives to build log cabins and improve its sanitation system. Wapachee suggested transferring some of the community’s Category 1b lands to Old Nemaska to deepen this connection.
When Legault asked people if they’d like to eventually return permanently, many said yes. As a traditional gathering place predating European contact, its landscape possesses the natural qualities that Cree have always valued in setting up camps. Wapachee told the premier the origin story that Billy Diamond loved to recite.
“One of our Elders landed on shore and there were pine trees all over,” narrated Wapachee. “The Elder took a piece of pointed stick, jabbed it into the ground, wiggled it around and the soil was good. The premier laughed when I told him about the Elder’s stick in the sand – that was his feasibility study.”