A Case Study in Anishinaabe Medicine and its History of Suppression

Patrick Laflèche, B.A., First year medical student at the University of Ottawa

Summer 2010

This project was supported by the Geza Hetenyi Memorial Studentship for the Study of History of Medicine.

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Table of Contents

Acknowledgements............................................................................................................................2

Introduction........................................................................................................................................2

Pre-Contact Period

Defining Anishinaabe..........................................................................................................................3

Traditional Life and the Social Role of Medicine People.........................................................................4

The Social Organisation of Medical Practitioners...................................................................................5

Beliefs and Practices............................................................................................................................9

Treaty Period

Windigo: a case in Anishinaabe Medicine ..........................................................................................11

Historical Changes in the Treaty Period...............................................................................................13

The Fiddler Case................................................................................................................................15

Euro-Canadian Response...................................................................................................................19

Modern Period

Policies of Aboriginal Cultural Suppression..........................................................................................23

The Introduction of Canadian Healthcare............................................................................................24

The “Rebirth” of Traditional Medicine.................................................................................................26

Conclusion........................................................................................................................................28

Figures. .............................................................................................................................................31

Bibliography......................................................................................................................................35

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Acknowledgements

This research project is the result of a collective effort, and I would like to thank a number of people for

making my work possible. First and foremost, thank you to Dr. Caroline Hetenyi for establishing the

studentship, for her helpful editing and for the afternoon tea. Thank you to my supervisor Dr. Toby

Gelfand, whose recommendations and scheduled deadlines were invaluable for my timely completion of

the project. Merci to my family for occasional editorship and ongoing support, and to the Rowswells for

their hospitality and company. A special thanks to Katie for her useful corrections, and to Kristine for

putting an end to my punctuation difficulties. Chii Miigwetch to everyone who heard out my ideas with

interest and patience, and to those who feigned interest for my sake.

Introduction

My interest in the medical history of the Anishinaabe was sparked by a literary piece: the novel

Three Day Road by Joseph Boyden. Although by no means a scholarly work, the book explores the

impact of the loss of traditional lifestyles for the James Bay Cree and Ojibway bands. This thematic

exploration gave a specific aboriginal perspective that had previously been foreign to me. In the past I

had been very involved in the national issue of aboriginal health in Canada, but after reading this book I

developed a new awareness of the situation of the First Nations in Northern Ontario, my place of birth.

During an elective course in the History of Medicine with Dr. Toby Gelfand, I also stumbled upon a

fascinating judicial case from 1907 regarding the arrest and trial of two Anishinaabe medicine men and

tribal leaders from the Sandy Lake area. I decided that examining this trial in terms of the conflicting

medical and social values of the Anishinaabe and the emerging Canadian government could be used as a

means to effectively illustrate an important chapter in First Nations medical history. When I chose to

pursue formal research in history of medicine with the Geza Hetenyi Studentship, I thought it would be a

good idea to incorporate this trial in the context of a broader study on the history of Anishinaabe

medicine.

The purpose of this research project is therefore twofold. Firstly, I wish to honour one of

Canada’s medical cultures which despite recently renewed interest in aboriginal healing traditions

remains largely overlooked in history of medicine literature. Secondly, I would like to examine the way

in which this tradition has interacted with Euro-Canadian society from first contact to the present day,

and to consider how these interactions have contributed to the poor state of health among the people

in question. For practical reasons, the paper has been divided into three sections roughly corresponding

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to three historical periods. First, the “pre-contact” Anishinaabe culture will be discussed, with a

particular focus on medical practitioners, medical-spiritual beliefs and the disease and therapeutic

constructs pertaining to the Windigo phenomenon. Second, the “treaty period” will focus on the

decades of intense change which came with the signing of treaties with the Canadian government, using

the trial mentioned in the opening paragraph as a demonstrative case study. Third, the “modern”

period will be considered, emphasizing how historical events in the post-treaty period have impacted

the well-being of the population and communities today.

Pre-contact Anishinaabe Medicine

Before beginning a discussion of their traditional medicine, it is important to understand who

the Anishinaabe are as a people. This is particularly pertinent because identifying Canadian aboriginal

groups can be confusing: the more commonly used names to describe the bands and tribes of North

America are often misleading. This is because many of these names were given by Europeans who had a

limited understanding of the relationships which existed between different bands. Thus British and

French explorers used the terms “Ojibway” or “Saultaux” to refer to the people living near what is now

Sault St. Marie.1 “Ojibway” was later used to include a collection of autonomous tribes who shared the

same language: the Nipissing, the Mississauga2, and the many subgroups of Ojibway-proper that lived

across a wide territory (see figure 1). These people were also politically and culturally affiliated to the

Odawa and the Potawatomi, two groups who by tradition shared common origins with the Ojibway.3

Since the common names used today to describe these different people do not accurately account for

their close affiliations, the term Anishinaabe, the preferred term that these tribes use to refer to each

other collectively, has been deemed much more useful in a cultural and anthropological sense. Thus the

Anishinaabe, the subjects of this essay, encompass the many tribes who spoke a common language and

shared a common heritage along the Great Lakes: The Plains Ojibway, the Saultaux, the Northern

Ojibway or Oji-Cree, the Ojibway-proper, the Chippewa (the American Ojibway), the Nipissing, the

Mississauga, the Potawatomi and the Odawa. For linguistic reasons,4 the Sauk, Algonquin, Delaware

and Menominee can also be added to this list according to some experts.5

1 , Alan D McMillan and Eldon Yellowhorn, First Peoples in Canada (Vancouver: Douglas and McIntyre, 2004) .p.108

The Cree and other

2 McMillan and Yellowhornp.109 3 Ibid. 4 Ibid. 5 Basil Johnston, Ojibway Heritage (Toronto, ON: McClelland and Stewart, 1976) .p.59

4

Algonquian speaking people (distant relatives to the Anishinaabe) also shared some of the same

heritage, despite speaking different but related languages and possessing distinct identities.6

Traditional Life and the Social Role of Medicine People

Prior to the arrival of Europeans, the Anishinaabe lived as hunter-gatherers in the forests and

shores of the Great Lakes region, specifically Lakes Superior, Huron, Michigan and eastward towards the

lands along the Ottawa River. Each of the many bands that lived in the area had its own chief and

separate hunting territories. These social units were linked to each other through intermarriage, trade

and common traditions rather than through formal political affiliation. During winter when food was

scarce, the band unit would often disperse into smaller familial groups and reassemble in the summer. 7

Hunting was an important food source for the Anishinaabe, particularly in winter when other nutritional

sources were unavailable. In the milder seasons, foraging and gathering plants and fruits became more

essential: maple trees were tapped in the early spring and wild rice and berries were harvested in the

summer. Agriculture was significant only in the groups with closer contact with the Huron to the south-

east, where squash, beans and corn became important aspects of the diet of a band. Fishing also took

on a central role in summer life when bands would gather at specific locations where fish were plentiful.

Walleye, sucker, sturgeon, trout, whitefish and pike could be speared or netted in large quantities to

support higher density populations.8 To travel, the Anishinaabe used birchbark canoes to navigate the

waterways and snowshoes to travel over deep snow. For shelter they erected structures called wigwam

or migwam, temporary dome shaped dwellings made of saplings, birchbark and mosses. Clothes were

made from the tanned hides of moose or deer with trim from fur-bearing animals.9

Anishinaabe medicine people were of great importance to the communities. According to

ethnologist and Anishinaabe scholar Basil Johnston, traditional society was organised into five classes of

individuals. The five classes fulfilled what were believed to be the five basic needs of society: the need

for leadership, defence, sustenance, learning and for medicine. Each of these different needs would be

fulfilled by its corresponding “profession”; the chiefs, warriors, hunters, teachers and the medicine

people therefore made up the occupational mosaic of traditional society. Ideally all of the classes would

have been included within a single band in order to ensure that all five needs were fulfilled, but this may

6 Johnston, Ojibway Heritage p.8 7 McMillan and Yellowhorn p.108-109 8 Ibid. p.110-112 9 Ibid.

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not have always been the case. 10 An individual’s class was determined in a patrilineal manner by his or

her totem or dodaem, which was represented by an animal symbol. The totem, a distinctive feature of

Anishinaabe culture, was a central component of the individual’s identity, just as important as his or her

affiliation to a band. Johnston explains that although each of the five classes originally possessed its

own unique animal totem, others were later added to make up the various types that survive today (see

figure 2). In a functional way, totems were most significant as a means to tie individuals from different

bands and groups together in bonds of brotherhood and sisterhood, thus providing a sense of unity

within the many autonomous bands of Anishinaabe.11

The Social Organisation of Medical Practitioners

Although totems corresponded to the five band classes, in practice it seems that individuals

were not necessarily bound to practice the occupation which they inherited, and this is particularly true

of medicine people.12 Being born within the healing class was no guarantee of an education in the ways

of the healer, and conversely those born within another totem could be initiated into the field. The art

of healing was seen as a unique and special gift, not accessible to any tribe member but only to those

possessing a particular and innate ability, regardless of the hereditary status. Young children who were

thought to possess these gifts were chosen by medicine people for training as apprentices. The

apprenticeship would last a very long time, and it was designed to nurture the innate gifts of the

individual and pass on medical knowledge. Indeed, learning was a matter of many years of observation,

practice and spiritual retreat, and custom dictated that the education of a student could only be

complete upon the death of his or her mentor.13 Students would be first trained in technical procedures

and the use of plants as herbal remedies designed to cure the ailments of the body, but in later stages

teachings would include philosophical components which would help the apprentice act as a counsellor

to ensure the wellbeing of others in the tribe.14

10 Johnston, Ojibway Heritage p.60

An apprentice’s education was thus particularly

demanding because of the extensive knowledge required for practice, but also in a spiritual sense

because medicine people would be called upon to assist their communities beyond the bounds of

physical ailments. For the Anishinaabe, like most aboriginal peoples in North America, healthcare was

entrenched in the wellbeing of the mind and spirit as well as the body, and medicine people were

11 Ibid. p.72 12 Johnston, Ojibway Heritage p.61 13 Ibid. p.82 14 Ibid. p.71

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expected to interpret dreams, lead community ceremonies and resolve questions of ethics and moral

conduct. The duty of the medicine person was thus much broader than what modern physicians

concern themselves with professionally: they were councillors, advisers and the keepers of culture and

tradition for their tribes.15

In part perhaps because of this broad range of responsibility, medicine people in many first

nations groups often became “specialized” practitioners of a specific sub-discipline.

16 This is true of the

Anishinaabe, who despite sharing the same social role within the totemic system were far from

homogenous in their healing practices. Anthropologist W. J. Hoffman identified four such disciplines

among the Ojibway: the Mashki-kike-winini (herbalists), Waubunos (healers, charm-makers and

specialists in hunting and love), Jessakid (seers and clairvoyants) and Mide (priests; higher members of

Midewewin, discussed below). Some of these disciplines appear to have coexisted as distinct collectives

which were independent from one another: the Waubunowin (society of Waubunos) for example,

appear to have coexisted with the Midewewin in the same tribes while both remained mutually

exclusive.17

It is difficult to determine how men and women were represented proportionally within these

groups. Early sources seem to suggest that healing roles in North American aboriginal societies were

held mostly by men, but modern analyses of these records agree that this observation is not reliable

because all of the early accounts are given by men. This means that while observing the practices of a

band, there was a high likelihood that male observers would not have shown much interest in the affairs

of women, or that they would be excluded from women’s ceremonies in the first place.

18 A more

rigorous examination of existing evidence has shown that women do appear to have participated in

many aboriginal healing roles (and, in the case of midwifery, that they were the dominant gender). 19

15 Consult Basil Johnston, Ojibway Ceremonies (Toronto, ON: McClelland and Stewart, 1987) for narrative examples of the different roles of medicine people, and Virgil J. Vogel, American Indian Medicine (New York, NY: Ballantine Books Inc., 1970) p.19-24 for formal description of the roles of medicine people and definitions of “medicine” in an aboriginal context.

16 Kenneth Cohen, Honoring the Medecine: The Essential Guide to Native American Healing (New York: Ballantine Books, 2003) p.29-30. 17 Johnston, Ojibway Ceremonies p.115-116 18 James B. Waldram, D. Ann Herring and T. Kue Young, Aboriginal Health in Canada (Toronto, ON: University of Toronto Press, 2006) p.145-146 19 Ibid.

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Among the Anishinaabe, it is known with certainty that women were welcome members of the

Midewewin, and that they were notably represented within the Mashki-kike-winini.20

The Midewewin medicine society is worth special mention because of its high degree of

structure and centralisation, which are unusual traits in aboriginal medicine. The society seems to have

originated later in the history of the Anishinaabe, when medicine people among the Ojibway began to

meet as a group to hold ceremonies - most likely in response to cultural and religious pressures from

missionaries and European settlers. J. H. Howard has also proposed that these meetings came about in

response to a collective fear of this misuse of shamanistic powers by dishonest medicine people: a more

centralised moral structure would ensure that healers would use their powers in a beneficial manner.

21

Whatever the explanation, these annual gatherings eventually resulted in the formation of a complex

organisation of healers known as the Midewewin or “Grand Medicine Society”, which spread to

neighbouring bands like the Cree, Dakota as well as other Anishinaabe groups22. The Midewewin were

organized into four hierarchical levels described as “orders” or “degrees”.23 As a member (or “Mide”)

progressed into the higher degrees, their knowledge of medicine, authority and responsibility within the

society increased as well. While in some groups almost all members of Anishinaabe society became

initiated into the lower orders (any sick person treated by a Mide would be initiated into the first

order)24, the higher degrees could only be attained through arduous training and testing of both ethical

and practical knowledge under a mentor. Only a select few medicine people could attain them.25 Each

passing of a grade was accompanied by elaborate ceremony, where the initiate was symbolically “shot”

with a shell and revived, a metaphorical representation of their spiritual death and rebirth into the

Midewewin.26 Members were then given medicine bags and allowed to paint their faces in a manner

reflecting their rank.27

20 Vogel, Virgil J. American Indian Medicine. (New York, NY: Ballantine Books Inc., 1970) p.20

21 J. Howard, The Plains Ojibwa or Bungi: Hunters and Warriors of the Northern Prairies with Special Reference to the Turtle Mountain Band (Lincoln, Nebraska: J & L Reprint Co, 1977) p.134 cited in Waldram, Herring and Young, p. 143 22 Waldram, Herring and Young p.142 It should be noted that there remains some controversy within the archaeological society regarding the origin of the Midewewin; some suggest that it had been fully formed in the pre-contact era. See Ronald J. Mason, “Bear's Journey and the Study of Ritual in Archaeology: some comments on Howey and O'Shea's Midewewin paper” (American Antiquity, 2009 p.189-192) 23 Johnston, Ojibway Heritage p.84 It is worth noting that a different account by anthropologist Ruth Landes from the 1930s describes eight grades rather than four. See McMillan and Yellowhorn, p.114 24 Waldram, Herring and Young p.142 25 Johnston, Ojibway Heritage p.93 26 Waldram, Herring and Young p.115 27 Johnston, Ojibway Heritage p.84-93

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The Midewewin, in addition to sharing knowledge of botanical remedies and ceremonies, were

taught to follow a strict moral code. Respecting other Midewewin was important, and respect towards

women in particular was demanded. The Mide was obliged to “do good works; he must guide others;

and, he must himself, espouse a good life.”28

Thank Gitche Manitou for all my gifts.

One version of this moral code was recited in the following

manner to help the Mide in carrying out his or her daily activities in a proper way:

Honour the aged; in honouring them, you honour life and wisdom. Honour life in all its forms; your own will be sustained. Honour women; in honouring women, you honour the gift of life and love Honour promises; by keeping your word, you will be true. Honour kindness; by sharing the gifts you will be kind. Be peaceful; through peace, all will find the Great Peace. Be courageous; through courage, all will grow in strength. Be moderate in all things; watch listen and consider; your deeds will be prudent.29

Lying, stealing and later drinking were also forbidden, and failure to follow the code was met with

serious consequence.30

It is worth noting that despite the beneficial nature of the healer’s calling and the codes

espoused by the Midewewin, in many instances medicine people were also feared for their awesome

power by rival bands or fellow tribe members. Oral tradition abounds with tales of healers using their

powers in dishonest and hurtful ways: unexplained misfortune, illness or death would often be

attributed to the doings of “malevolent sorcerers”

31 and competitive relationships between medicine

people could also develop.32

It is difficult to assess how many of these tales are based on fact and how

many were imagined or exaggerated, but whatever the case this harmful behaviour would certainly

have gone against the fundamental role of the healer, not to mention the ethical codes of the medicine

societies. The basic social function of the medicine person remained one of benevolence; its goal was to

maintain the physical, mental and spiritual wellbeing of his or her tribe, and harmful action would have

been highly disruptive to Anishinaabe society.

28 Ibid. 29 Ibid. 30 Waldram, Herring and Young p.143 31 McMillan and Yellowhorn, p.114 32 Thomas Fiddler and James R. Stevens, Killing the Shamen (Manotick, ON: Penumbra Press, 1985) p.9-10

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Beliefs and Practices

The eclectic array of healers that constituted the Anishinaabe medicine people had developed a

variety of skills useful in treating the illnesses and wounds they encountered. Early European observers

have recorded a number of examples of medical interventions used by healers, some of which notably

incorporated the use of ingenious bedside tools. In the treatment of fractured arms, for example, the

Ojibwa stabilised the limbs with thin cedar splints after washing the affected surface in warm water and

covering it in grease, poultice and cloth.33 The Anishinaabe also seemed to have used cutting tools and

suturing materials to surgically repair complex skin lacerations. One account from Lake Nipigon notes

that accidentally torn ears were cut at the affected area using a sharp implement to form two smooth

surfaces which were then sown back together.34 For surgical manoeuvres, syringes made from bladders

and quills were used by the Potawatomi to introduce herbal cleansers into wounds, arguably long

before the device had been introduced in Europe.35 Similarly, tools designed to administer enemas

made from deer bladder and hollow rush were used by both the Ojibwa and Potawatomi.36 More

enigmatic interventional techniques have also been recorded. The Anishinaabe of Manitoulin Island, for

example, were observed to use a procedure somewhat resembling the Asiatic moxa treatment. In order

to relieve internal pain, the medicine man would burn a piece of wood over the dolorous area and

produce a superficial blister on the skin of the patient.37

Herbal remedies played a particularly important role in therapy, and historical accounts from

Europeans also provide some examples of their uses. In midwifery, for example, the Chippewa were

noted to use herbal remedies from the root of Caulophyllum thalictroides to provoke delivery or induce

menstruation.

38 In the treatment of acute bleeding, the Ojibway were observed using the root of

Drymocallis arguta placed on duck down as a styptic.39

33 Frances Densmore, “Uses of Plants by the Chippewa Indians” (Forty-fourth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology 1926-27, p.275-397). cited in Vogel p.204

For gastric problems, the same group was also

known to utilise the steeped or boiled roots of horsemint (Monarda Mollis), wild cherry (Prunus

34 John Long, John Long's Journal, 1768-1782. Vol. 2 in Reuben Gold Thwaites (ed.), Early Western Travels (Cleveland: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1904) Cited in Vogel p.182 35 Huron H. Smith, “Ethnobotany of the Forest Potawatomi Indians” (Bulletin of the Public Museum Volume IV no.3 1933: p. 34) cited in Vogel p.185 36 Densmore, “Uses of Pants by the Chippewa Indians” Cited Vogel p.175 37 William Winder, “On Indian Diseases and Remedies” (Boston Medical and Surgical Journal 1946: p.10-13). Cited in Vogel p.172 38Henry de Laszlo, and Paul S. Henshaw, "Plant Materials Used by Primitive Peoples to Affect Fertility." (Science 1954: p.626-631); cited in Vogel p.231-232 39 Densmore, “Uses of Pants by the Chippewa Indians” Cited in Vogel p. 214

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serotina) and wild plum (Prunus Americana) to expel intestinal worms.40 As diuretics, Anishinaabe

medicine men appear to have utilised a variety of plants, including hop hornbeam, nettle, wild currant

and goose grass.41 Johnston also cites various herbal remedies which according to the knowledge of

elders were used by the Anishinaabe medicine people: jewel weed to cure contact with poison ivy, cedar

or balsam brew for throat congestion and the ingestion of swamp roots to stop throat pain.42

Although the herbal remedies, bedside instrumentation and other technical features of medical

practice remain important and fascinating aspects of the Anishinaabe healing tradition, they will not be

discussed further here. It is the spiritual side of medicine, so central to the aboriginal medical paradigm,

which will be the focus of this paper. Many incidents described in early accounts illustrate the

important role of spirituality in aboriginal medicine. For the Anishinaabe, supernatural entities or

“spirits” were seen as playing a direct role in healing therapies. For example, from a modern

perspective the healing properties of plants may appear as straightforward applications of

physiologically active substances, but for aboriginal people it was a spirit within the plant which

provided curative power. When an herbal remedy was used in a patient’s therapy, it was the spirit of

the medicinal plants it contained which acted upon the patient’s pathology and brought about a cure.

43

The distinction is subtle but significant. To the medicine person, ensuring that the cure was efficacious

required not only that the right plant was selected, but also that its spirit was respected and honoured

in the right way.44

40 Densmore, “Uses of Pants by the Chippewa Indians” Cited in Vogel p.166

The patient’s therapy took on a moral dimension in its requirement for respect of the

spirit, but also became grounded in the patient’s natural environment to which the plant belonged.

Similarly, ceremonies like the “shaking tent” practiced by many Algonquian groups relied on the

assistance of a beneficial spirit who would be conjured by the medicine person to answer the queries of

a participant. During this ceremony, the medicine person would enter a small lodge, sometimes

accompanied by an outside participant or patient. Within the lodge he or she would sing to invite spirits

to enter the structure. As this occurred, the tent would often shake violently, and then the shaman

could then converse with the spirits in order to divine the future, locate objects and game or ascertain

41 Densmore, “Uses of Pants by the Chippewa Indians” and Huron H. Smith, “Ethnobotany of the Ojibwe Indians” (Milwaukee: Bulletin of the Public Museum, Volume IV no. 3, 1932). Cited in Vogel p.198 42 (Johnston, Ojibway Heritage)p.42 43 Vogel, p.20 44 Johnston, Ojibway Ceremonies p.14

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the cause of an illness.45

On the other hand, spirits could also be the source of ailment, often as a result of a moral

transgression. Among the Anishinaabe: “...the world is seen as a place in which harmony exists between

and among human beings and other spiritual or ‘other than human’ entities and serious illness is

indicative of a disruption in this balance.”

As with herbal remedies, the medicine person depended on the help of the

spirits which were called upon in order to effectively carry out a ceremony.

46 This association between transgression and disease thus

precluded that a cure be found through the restoration of social and moral order, and confessions by

individuals were often important in the healing process.47 Given the importance of spirituality in both

pathology and therapy, it is important to see the spiritual dimension of the aboriginal medical paradigm

as not merely a tool for understanding and curing disease, but as an effective means for maintaining the

stability and integrity of a society where balance and order were of critical importance.48

The Treaty Period

Among the many mythological figures important to perceptions of Anishinaabe disease

constructs, the most infamous and controversial remains the dreaded Windigo (or Witiko, Wendigo),

whose actions led to the trial discussed in this section. Anishinaabe myth explains that Windigo had

been a man who after many months of starvation gained the power to turn humans into beavers. After

decimating an entire village and feasting lavishly on the transformed humans, Windigo was hunted

down by a warrior and slain; after his death he continued his existence as the spirit of excess. The

Windigo thus took on a role as a moral regulator of behaviour among tribal members: he punished

those who committed acts of excess but also rewarded those who acted with moderation.49

45 Waldram, Herring and Young p.138-139

In the daily

lives of the Anishinaabe, the Windigo appeared to have taken on two different forms. First it was

concrete being, a terrifying giant creature from the North with an insatiable appetite for human flesh.

This form is often described as a tall male humanoid which was incredibly strong and highly mobile,

46 Ibid.p.131 47 Ibid. 48 See Erwin H. Ackerknecht, Medicine and Ethnology: Selected Essays (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1971) p.167 for extensive discussion of of the social role of “primitive” medicines. 49 Johnston, Ojibway Heritage p.166-167

12

often associated with winter and extreme cold.50 Among the tribes-people, the unexplainable

disappearance of hunters and warriors was often attributed to an attack by this kind of Windigo.51

The second and more medically relevant manifestation of the spirit was pathological: the

Windigo was an entity with the ability to possess individuals, provoking delirium and inducing

cannibalistic thoughts and behaviours. The possessed would pose a threat to the rest of the tribe, but it

was also feared that the illness would be passed on, even after death. From the healer’s perspective,

prompt treatment was critical. The invasive spirit could be overcome with more conservative measures

through the ingestion of animal fats, exposure to a heat source or the use of the “shaking tent”

ceremony.

52 However, when these methods failed, the medicine man was left with no choice but to kill

the afflicted, albeit often at the request of the sick persons themselves or their family.53 In some cases,

the body would then be cremated in order to ensure that the Windigo spirit was completely

destroyed.54

Many anthropological theories exist to explain the function of the Windigo belief. The standard

model views the possession by a Windigo as a real psychotic illness induced by isolation and starvation

which occurred when the tribe would divide into smaller groups in the winter time, when travel was

difficult and food scarce.

The possession was considered a very serious matter when it was encountered. Only a

very powerful shaman could destroy the Windigo.

55 During these difficult times individuals would succumb to the illness,

becoming obsessed with cannibalistic thoughts and behaviours therefore posing a direct threat to the

family group. A further explanation describes the possession by a Windigo in broader terms as a

psychological “loss of control” induced by a gradual process of mental destabilisation which left the

individual unable to participate in the tribal collective. 56

50 Guy Lanoue and Nadia Ferrara, “The self in northern Canadian hunting societies: 'Cannibals' and other 'monsters' as agents of healing” (Anthropologica, 2004: p.69)

Unable to function within their groups, the

individual would have been eliminated to relieve the tribe of the burden of their care, and not to

address a genuine cannibalistic threat. Another more politically framed model rejects the idea of the

Windigo as a genuine psychological condition. Instead it explains the phenomenon as an expression of

51 McMillan and Yellowhorn p.113 52 Nathan D. Carlson, “Reviving Witiko (Windigo): An Ethnohistory of "Cannibal Monsters" in the Athabasca Disctrict of Northern Alberta, 1878-1910” (Ethnohistory, 2009: 355-394) 53 Lou Marano, “Windigo Psychosis: the Anatomy of an Emic-Etic Confusion” (Current Anthropology, 1982: 385-412) 54 Carlson, 2009 55 Lanoue and Ferrara, 2004 56 Ibid.

13

the collective fear of individuals selfishly exploiting certain sub-groups within a tribal unit. In this case,

the Windigo would have been an artificial disease construct, created by the tribes people to encouraged

solidarity among the winter groups and preserve the integrity of a band or family-group.57

Dealing with Windigos makes up only a small portion of the traditional Anishinaabe healing

tradition. However the perception of Windigo beliefs by Euro-Canadians in the post-colonial period

exemplifies the conflict that developed when an aboriginal medical tradition came under the scrutiny of

the colonizing powers. A number of historical factors explain why tension developed between the two

groups. First it should be noted that post-colonial Euro-Canadian medicine had become very different

than its aboriginal counterpart. Although magico-religious components of medicine had persisted for

centuries even in the European tradition, by the early 20th century scientific thought had largely

prevailed within the profession. This newfound authority of science had reinforced the schism between

secularised medicine and religion, which meant that the medical sphere was unable to perceive the

fundamentally spiritual aboriginal paradigms beyond the realms of superstition and quackery. The

Anishinaabe medicine person and the 20th century doctor had developed into two very different

professions; in fact, when referring to medicine men and women among “primitives”, Ackerknecht has

suggested that the healers were much more akin to the priest than the physician.

Historical

cases do not seem to unanimously endorse one theory over another, and indeed it may be that none of

them give a full picture of the reality of a disease construct which varied considerably through time and

space.

58

57 Ibid.

Yet medicine people

would hardly be expected to find sympathisers among the clergy. The Churches were interested in the

conversion of all aboriginal peoples, and those who preached an alternative spiritual tradition and

undermined conversion efforts would be consequently seen as threats to the religious institutions.

Aboriginal medical understandings and methods being so integrated within spirituality, traditional

medicine would come under pressure from Christian institutions as well. In addition, Eurocentric

attitudes and racial preconceptions no doubt played a significant role in undermining aboriginal cultural

value. The combined result of these factors meant that colonising cultures found themselves unable to

perceive aboriginal medicine in positive ways. The consequences of this inability to comprehend or

sympathise with an unfamiliar and foreign medical paradigm would take on disastrous proportions

58 Erwin H. Ackerknecht, “Problems of Primitive Medicine” (Bulletin of the History of Medicine 1942: 508-509) cited in Vogel p.19

14

when the newly created Dominion of Canada showed renewed interest in aboriginal affairs during the

“Treaty Period”.

Historical Changes in the Treaty Period

The Contact Era brought radical change for the First Nations in Canada. For the Anishinaabe,

this was a time of great expansion. After the Iroquoians were dispersed in the 17th century, eastern

groups moved into what is now southern Ontario and western groups expanded into the Plains,

displacing the Dakota to the southwest.59 The extremely lucrative fur-trade lured many to the North

into the Canadian Shield where Ojibway bands mingled with the Cree, in some cases abandoning

elements of their cultural traditions (such as the totemic system or the Midewewin Society).60 Trade

brought change in the material culture of these groups with the introduction of new commodities

available at Hudson Bay Company and the North West Company trading posts.61 The fur trade also

brought hardship in the more intensely exploited regions, as years of trapping had depleted game and

provoked famine. Missionaries, from whom many early accounts of Anishinaabe life originate, began to

preach to bands across Eastern Canada, attempting to convert the aboriginals to the Christian faith and

the European way of life. Religious conversion was less successful in these earlier times but would

become far more efficacious with the collapse of the fur-trade in 1821 and the crippling effect of

European-introduced epidemics.62

There is much that can be said about the signing of the “Indian Treaties” and their effect on

Anishinaabe bands and their neighbours. The primary impact of these agreements was the formal

surrender of land and political autonomy as aboriginal groups came under government jurisdiction. Two

sets of treaties are relevant to this section: first the Robinson Treaties signed in the mid-1800s around

the Great Lakes, followed by the Numbered Treaties which spanned westward and northward across

Despite these changes, most Anishinaabe bands remained far

removed from Euro-Canadian society. They retained their political autonomy and were free to practice

many of their cultural traditions as they had in the past. However, this state of affairs was temporary

and would quickly change with the formation of the Dominion of Canada in 1867 and the subsequent

signing of the “Indian Treaties” as the new nation expanded westward into aboriginal lands.

59 McMillan and Yellowhorn, p.108 60 Ibid. p.121 61 Waldram, Herring and Young p.12-15 62 McMillan and Yellowhorn p.122-123

15

most of Canada (see figure 3).63 The Robinson treaties were primarily concerned with land claims and

economic development (particularly for mining), and although the numbered treaties also sought to

secure land, they would additionally require observance of Canadian law by signatories.64 New laws

were created to control aboriginal affairs: the “Indian Act” of 1876 dictated which individuals could

possess “Indian Status” and also regulated how bands could operate. These laws would later place

prohibitions on aboriginal cultural expression, as I will discuss in the third section. However, in some

cases restrictions on cultural and religious ceremonies preceded the treaties entirely. These intrusions

into the affairs of First Nations reflect the social climate of the time, which was thoroughly inhospitable

to indigenous cultures. Canadian society sought the assimilation of aboriginal peoples and the phasing

out of any religious, spiritual or cultural elements which were “prohibitive of assimilation”, regardless of

treaty status.65

The Fiddler Case

The following case study illustrates one an example of this intrusion and its impact on an

Anishinaabe band. It involves the Windigo phenomenon and the two Waubuno medicine men in a

Northern Ojibway clan.

In 1906, a Royal North West Mounted Police officer heard a story from Hudson Bay Company fur

trader William Campbell about a death among an “Indian” band in the Keewatin district.66 Reporting to

his superiors, he explained that “through superstitious beliefs”, members of the band would put to

death those who became delirious. Commissioner Aylesworth Bowen Perry, stationed at the

R.N.W.M.P. headquarters in Regina then decided to take action and lead a full investigation into the

tribes in order to ascertain the exact nature of the alleged homicide.67

The band in question was the Sucker Clan who lived in the Sandy Lake and Deer Lake area in

what is today Northwest Ontario. Although historical accounts would variously refer to them as “Cree”

or “Saultaux”, the Suckers and the other neighbouring clans were a group of Anishinaabe who had

expanded North amongst the Cree, becoming the people who identify themselves today as the “Severn

Ojibway”, “Northern Ojibway” or “Oji-Cree”. Evidence of their cultural identity can be found in the

63 It is worth noting that a further treaty, the Williams Treaty, was signed with two Anishinaabe groups, the Mississauga and the Chippewa in 1923. Because of the later date of the signing, the treaty is not discussed in this section. 64Roger Duhamel, Treaty 3 between Her Majesty the Queen and the Saulteaux Tribe of the Ojibbeway Indians at the Northwest Angle on the Lake of the Woods with Adhesions (Indian and Northern Affairs Canada, 03/11/2008) 65 Waldram, Herring and Young p.147-148 66 Fiddler and Stevens p.71 67Ibid.

16

totemic clan symbols used to differentiate bands: in this case the Suckers, Cranes, Caribou, Pelican and

Sturgeon clans which populated the area68. However, unlike the traditional system, individual bands

appear to have been composed of a single dominant totem rather than a combination of totem-

classes.69 Similarly, some but not all of the medicine societies were still active among the communities.

Although there is no evidence that Midewewin ceremonies were carried out by the Suckers and their

neighbours, the annual Waubeno ceremony practiced by the Waubenowin medicine people remained

an important event.70 The diverse social roles of the medicine people also appear to have been

maintained, with a special emphasis on leadership. Indeed, the position of clan leader or “ogema”

appears to have usually been filled by a medicine person. 71

Chief Thomas Fiddler and author James Stevens have compiled an extensive history of the

people at Sandy Lake and the events leading to the Fiddler trial. According to their narrative, the two

R.N.W.M.P. officers who arrived at the Sucker camp at Red Deer Lake on June 13th, 1907, were the first

white men to come into contact with many of the clan people.

At a time when famine and disease was

common, their expertise and experience would have been critical to the survival of the tribe.

72 On the 15th, the officers called two

elders into their tent to inform them that they were under arrest for a murder which occurred in the

summer of 1906. One of these men was called Maisaninnine, known as Jack Fiddler73 to the whites and

the RNWMP. He was the son of Porcupine Standing Sideways, a tribal leader and a powerful Waubeno

medicine man who had passed on his skill to Maisaninnine. 74 Oral histories confirm the latter man’s

skill as a healer, but he was also a prophet, the patriarch of an extensive family and the “ogema” of his

clan. Stories of Maisaninnine’s exploits indicate that he had been a well known Windigo killer, a gift

which he claimed to have received through a dream. Accounts of his deeds against Windigos are

numerous, some seeming to deal with the supernatural manifestation of the spirit and others describing

the real deaths of clan members who had been possessed.75

68 Fiddler and Stevens p.6-7

The second man was Maisaninnine’s

brother, called Pasequan or Joseph Fiddler. Younger than Maisaninnine, he was a more mysterious

figure who appears to have assisted his brother in killing Windigos and to have otherwise acted in his

69Ibid. 70 Fiddler and Stevens p.23 71 Jennifer S. H. Brown and Maureen Matthews, “Fair Wind: Medicine and Consolation on the Berens River” (Journal of the CHA 1993: 55-74) 72 Fiddler and Stevens p.74-75 73 Maisaninnine obtained his English last name quite literally through his musical ability with a fiddle, an instrument for which he traded at one of the HBC posts. See Fiddler and Stevens, p.31 74 Fiddler and Stevens p.23 75 See interviews with Edward Rae and Thomas Fiddler, Fiddler and Stevens p.47-53

17

own right as a medicine-man and leader of the Suckers. It was for the murder of Wasakapeequay, the

daughter-in-law of Pasequan that the R.N.W.M.P. arrested the two men.

While awaiting trial, Maisaninnine committed suicide by hanging himself in the woods near the

police barracks. Well into his seventies, he had been troubled with health problems during his stay in

the town of Norway House and he had also been visibly affected by the radical change in lifestyle

brought by his arrest, though we have no reason to believe he was actively abused. Pasequan was left

to face the court alone. After several months of custody, the trial was finally carried out at an

improvised court in Norway House on Hudson’s Bay. The trial was attended by Commissioner Perry,

who acted as the judge, by a Winnipeg lawyer to represent the prosecution, by an interpreter, a clerk,

six Norway house community members to form the jury and a few observers. The witnesses are the two

R.N.W.M.P. officers who arrested the medicine men, two Anishinaabe men who had witnbessed the

murder and a Cree Reverend from Norway House. There is no one to represent Pasequan for the

defence nor are there any medical witnesses.

The full transcriptions of court proceedings that have been preserved in archival material

provide details on the nature of Wasakapeequay’s death. Minowapawin, or Owl Rae, a tribesman of the

Crane Clan who had been present before and during the killing described the events leading to the

death: Wasakapeequay had been very ill and agitated in the days before her passing, requiring many

people to hold her down. Over the course of the night, she had been left outside with her husband and

family at her side, helping to restrain her as she succumbed to delirious attacks. Seeing that her

condition had not improved, the following evening she was moved further off to the side of the camp

and Maisaninnine and Pasequan began preparations for the ceremony. They laid her down onto a

cotton blanket, tied a noose around her neck and together they pulled, suffocating her. After she had

died, Minowapawin heard the medicine men say that they needed to “...do the right thing by the

woman and bury her right”. In the morning, the body was sewn up in the cotton blanket, wrapped with

birch bark and buried. When questioned about the tribe’s motives for the killing, Minowapawin explains

that “They were scared that when they are sick they will turn out to be cannibals, or man eaters, and

will destroy them. That is what they do it for.”76

Another witness, Manawapait, who had been present before the murder but not during,

confirms that prior to her death Wasakapeequay had been very ill, rolling around on the ground and

76 Norway House court transcript, Public Archives of Canada R. G. 13-B1, Volume 1452, File 386

18

requiring restraint from the tribeswomen who watched over her. The night before she died, the

witness specifies that both Maisaninnine and Pasequan watched over the woman alongside her family.

During this time Manawapait overheard Wasakapeequay’s huband saying that his wife would not live

through the illness. He also overheard Maisaninnine tell Pasequan that they “...were going to strangle

her and put her out of her misery”.77 He confirms Minowapawin’s account of the medicine men’s

preparations for the killing, as well as the burial. Upon questioning by the prosecution, Manawapait

states that the Sucker medicine men had been implicated in a few other deaths over the course of their

lives. He described a case which he had witnessed about twenty days after Wasakapeequay had died,

where a severely sick and delirious man named Menewascum of the Crane tribe was brought to

Maisaninnine by his wife, who asked the medicine man to perform the ritual. Like Wasakapeequay, he

was strangled and his body was buried. In another case, five or six years before the trial, a man in a

similar state named David Meekis of the Suckers was killed by Pasequan with the help of three others.

Unlike the two other cases, his body was burnt, the more common way of disposing of a Windigo

corpse. Manawapait then described a prior incident which he had heard second hand but not

witnessed, as he was a child at the time. In this case, a sick man from the Crane Clan had been brought

to the Suckers and put to death, his body burnt like that of David Meekis. During his testimony,

Manawapait specified that the Windigo ceremony was carried out only by the Suckers under

Maisaninnine. This detail is important as it may explain that two of the dead belonged to a different

tribe, thus other groups who were unable to carry out the ceremony would bring the ill to Maisaninnine

and Pasequan for assistance.78

There is limited evidence from the trial itself which could help us gain insight into the medicine

men’s motives and reasoning. The “ogema” Maisaninnine left only one recorded statement prior to his

suicide asking inspector Pelletier “not to punish me too hard because I did not know I was doing wrong

and if I had known I would not have done the deed.”

In summary, Manawapait’s testimony identifies three other Windigo

deaths performed by the Suckers, one occurring after Wasakapeequay, and two before, in a total

timeframe of roughly twenty years.

79 Pasequan had no one to represent his defence

and declined to give evidence; although he did ask Crompton Caverley of the Indian Department to give

a brief statement appealing to the fact that his actions were in accord with custom.80

77 Ibid.

At the end of the

78 Ibid. 79 Fiddler and Stevens p.79 80 Norway House Court transcript, Public Archives of Canada R. G. 13-B1, Volume 1452, File 386

19

trial, he was sentenced to death, a sentence which was reduced to life imprisonment a few weeks

later.81

Robert Phair, a missionary who had worked among the Anishinaabe for many years, spoke at

length with the prisoner and decided to petition the Minister of Justice for his release. He was adamant

that the medicine men had acted in a way that was “in the best interest of their people” and in

accordance with tribal custom. Phair also believed that Pasequan had been completely unaware that

there was anything wrong with his actions until his arrest.

It is during his incarceration in a Manitoba penitentiary that Pasequan indirectly and directly

expressed his motives.

82

I desire that you look upon me not as a common murderer. I was the chief of my tribe, we had much sickness and the sick ones were getting bad spirits and their friends were afraid of them and sent them to me to strangle them. This was not common killing, for we never strangle a well person, neither would we dare to shoot, or stab a sick person. It has always been the rule of our people to strangle sick ones who went mad. No one but the chief of the tribe, or one named by him could strangle anyone.

Pasequan himself also dictated a letter to

the Minister of Justice appealing for his release, which was translated and transcribed by an unidentified

person. The following excerpt describes his views on the nature of the killing and the practice:

83

(See full letter in figure 6)

Interestingly the prisoner does not detail his own spiritual understanding of the practice, perhaps in

order to appeal more readily to the Canadian officials.

From this evidence we can deduce some important facts about the medical details of the case.

Firstly, it is clear that in all cases the “possessed” had been severely ill and delirious for some time

before they were put to death. Secondly, the medicine men needed to employ diagnostic reasoning to

determine who was possessed and beyond cure; Pasequan confirms in his letters that only the sick who

were delirious or mad would be strangled. Furthermore, it is likely that these English terms used by the

writer of the letter hides a far more specific set of symptoms, lost in translation. Lastly and most

importantly, there is no evidence in any of the testimonies that either medicine man showed mal-intent

towards the victims. The fact that the healer was found guilty and kept in custody is more of a political

matter rather than a concern for justice. Some of those involved in the trial seemed sympathetic to the

medicine man’s situation but believe that a strict disposition towards the aboriginal leaders would

81 Fiddler and Stevens p.109 82 Letter to the Minister of Justice from Robert Phair Public Archives of Canada R. G. 13-B1, Volume 1452, File 386 83 Letter to the Minister of Justice from Pasequan alias Joseph Fiddler Public Archives of Canada R. G. 13-B1, Volume 1452, File 386

20

placate the rest of the tribe for later negotiations. Commissioner Perry, for example, expressed his

belief that the medicine man had acted according to custom and without knowledge of the white man’s

law, but hoped that a prolonged prison sentence would “impress the Sucker tribe of Indians” and thus

make them more cooperative with the Canadians.84

Euro-Canadian Response

The curious nature of the Wasakapeequay case made it favourable material for sensationalist

exploitation, and as a result it elicited a strong response across the Dominion. Newspaper articles

preserved in media archives provide portraits of the attitudes of the Euro-Canadian public towards the

Windigo belief and the strangulations. By and large, citizens appear to have been appalled by the

“horrible practices”85 of the “strangler chief”86. Newspapers from 1907 portrayed Pasequan and

Maisaninnine in a decidedly negative light, offering questionable information about the tribe and the

Windigo belief. For example, an article from the Montreal Daily Witness published on the 8th of October

is entitled “Devil Worship Among the Cree Indians of Keewatin” 87, and describes the murders as

sacrificial components to a “cult of fratricide”, meant to appease a demonic spirit. A newspaper

“special” published in the Mail and Empire on August 1st of the same year mistakenly explains that the

ceremony was meant to imprison the Windigo spirit within the victim’s body, therefore preventing it

from escaping into the woods and frightening the game, causing a famine.88 The trial proceedings

themselves were described with considerable bias. A four page article from the Manitoba Free Press,

published on October 16th describes the trial as “impressive”, the “scarlet coated riders of the plains

(R.N.W.M.P.)” standing by “the expressionless red men of the Norway House Indians”.89

84 Letter to the Minister of Justice from Aylesworth B. Perry, Public Archives of Canada R. G. 13-B1, Volume 1452, File 386

The article

describes the testimonies in lurid detail, concluding with an erroneous address by Pasequan where he

allegedly “commended himself to God and asked for the mercy of the court, pleading ignorance for the

law”. The tone of the article takes on a nearly paranoid tone when it warns that: “Any too tender

hearted person in that savage district who sympathises with the prisoner is in a somewhat false

85 Montreal Daily Witness, “Devil Worship Among the Cree Indians of Keewatin” (October 8th, 1907). 86 Manitoba Free Press, “Strangler Chief Dies at New Year” (October 16, 1907). 87 The Northern Ojibway were often referred to as “Cree”, and while it is true that they had adopted some of the customs of their northern neighbours they remained of Anishinaabe heritage. 88 Mail and Empire, “"Wendigo" Imprisoned, Famine was Averted” (August 1, 1907). 89 See figures 4 and 5 for photographs from the trial.

21

position, for if the rite is allowed to continue he never may know when he, the sympathizer, may get a

taste of the ceremony himself.” 90

Some more sympathetic responses were written by a minority of Euro-Canadians who defended

the custom and the prisoners, asking for leniency from the government. Those who made up the latter

group appear to have been people who had been in contact with Anishinaabe over the course of their

lives, suggesting that those who had some exposure to the situation and culture of the Aboriginals were

more likely to be empathetic towards the medicine men’s position. In response to an August 16th article

L. R. MacKay wrote an editorial entitled “Defense of an Indian Custom” in the Manitoba Free Press. He

reminds the reader that having no exposure to Canadian law, the tribe continues to follow an equally

binding set of laws which have been part of tribal life for generations. On behalf of the medicine man,

he pleads rather poetically:

“But who of us can picture with what sorrow he adjusted the silken cord about the once beautiful throat, or measure the tremor that seized his frame as tight and still tighter the noose was drawn until not even a fitful gasp escaped the poor burning lips, and the arms and limbs after a few convulsive moments settled into a rest unknown during the period of her agony.”91

K. McDonald, who had been a Hudson Bay factor

92 for many years at Norway House, wrote a similar

article on October 16th praising Mr. MacKay for writing “humanely and reasonably” about the trial.

Having met the medicine man himself, McDonald refers to Maisaninnine by his “Indian name”, and

describes his personal experience with the man. During a trip to a trading post, Maisaninnine had

showed great determination in fulfilling his promise to bring McDonald to his destination despite many

difficulties along the way, showing considerable care and concern towards the trader throughout his

stay. McDonald reminds the reader that the killing of a Windigo is done “for the good of the many”, and

warns that ending the custom without developing an alternative way of caring for the delirious would

have serious negative consequences for the entire tribe.93

90 Manitoba Free Press, “Strangler Chief Dies at New Year” (October 16, 1907).

Much like Pasequan’s letter, these editorials

seem to ignore the Anishinaabe medical conceptions of disease, again probably in order to appeal to the

Eurocentric attitudes of their Canadian public.

91 L. R. MacKay, “Defence of an Indian Custom” (Manitoba Free Press, August 31, 1907) 92 “Factor” is he title given to a trader in the company, describing an agent who buys and sells for another in exchange for a commission. 93 Keith McDonald, “Defends Indian Custom” (Manitoba Free Press October 16, 1907)

22

Media responses aside, many Euro-Canadians who had been in closest contact with the Sucker

Clan and the medicine men were particularly shocked by the outcome of the trial and endeavoured to

have Pasequan pardoned and released. This excerpt of a petition from Norway House, which was

written and signed by many prominent men from the settlement, explains the views of those who had

been in close contact with the First Nations people of the area:

We have no doubt, Sir, that you are fully aware that the offence of which the prisoner is guilty has its roots in their superstition and not in malice, hatred or any kindred passion but we are not sure that you have had the opportunity of knowing that the entire band is in perfect sympathy with those, who because of possessing a little more nerve than the rest, are detailed to do the gruesome task. Their actions in this respect is the very opposite of what we call murder, being undertaken sometimes at the earnest solicitation of one who has been delirious and regained consciousness for a time, when they would beg or even implore their relative to kill them, if they should relapse, rather than leave them to run the risk of turning into a Wetego and so be condemned to be a roving spiritual cannibal forever, a wretched creature and a terror to men, never allowed to reach the Happy Hunting Ground. That condition is the hell of those Indians.94

It is worth noting that the dichotomy of opinion presented in these documents may have been a

reflection of a contemporary bioethical controversy. As of 1906, euthanasia had been the subject of

much debate in the American medical community. In Ohio, Anna S. Hall, a wealthy Cincinnati heiress,

had been championing pro-euthanasia legislature and recruited prominent physicians, scholars and

educators to support her cause. Similarly in Iowa, two well-known and respected physicians had

introduced a highly controversial bill which would oblige physicians to end the lives of the terminally

ill.

95 Although neither bill was passed, National opinion seemed split in on the subject they addressed.

While many Americans perceived the bills in a positive way, others were appalled by them; one

assemblyman from New York even introduced a bill to criminalise the advocacy of euthanasia. 96

94 Petition for the Release of Joseph Fiddler, Public Archives of Canada R. G. 13-B1, Volume 1452, File 386

Since

the Canadian and American medical communities of the time maintained close ties, this debate had

likely spread across the border between the two countries. Given the victims’ sickness and the evidence

supporting a compassionate motive to the killings, it is probable that the public would have conceived of

the actions of the medicine men as a form of euthanasia. As a result, the opinion of newspapers,

journalists and writers on the euthanasia debate may have affected their perceptions of the judicial

case.

95 Jacob M. Appel, "A Duty to Kill? A Duty to Die? Rethinking the Euthanasia Controversy of 1906" (Bulletin of the History of Medicine 2004: 610-634) 96 Ibid.

23

Euthanasia aside, the documents do indicate a clear difference in opinion between the minority

of people who had been exposed to Anishinaabe life and the broader public who had had no contact

with the Anishinaabe and consequently saw little value to aboriginal medicine, beliefs and culture. As a

result of the dominant attitude, two leaders and healers who had lived in an autonomous clan far from

Euro-Canadian society were taken away by government forces and judged by the laws of a foreign

system for an act which they had carried out in accordance with their own customs. The “ogema” of the

clan died before the trial, and his brother succumbed to tuberculosis on the 1st of September, 1909 after

spending 18 months in the prison hospital. The Suckers who remained were deprived of two men who

had helped see them through years of hardship. This story is not the only one of its kind to have

occurred in Canadian history; the government’s attention towards the Windigo practice lead to similar

trials in other Anishinaabe bands as well as among neighbouring Algonquian groups.97

Although the

justifiability of the government’s prosecution of the Windigo phenomenon is debatable, that way in

which legal action was carried out exemplifies the common Euro-centric view of the time which held

that, for the sake of progress and the development of the new nation, all aboriginal people had to be

assimilated into Canadian society until the “Indian” was no more.

Health and Traditional Medicine in the “Modern” Era

The Windigo related trials certainly had a strong immediate impact on the Anishinaabe bands

involved, but I would argue that they are historically significant in two other ways. Firstly, they were

part of a broader pattern of aboriginal cultural repression; and secondly because the legacy of this

suppression continues to affect the health of the Anishinaabe and other aboriginals today. This section

examines the events which unfolded in the “modern” era, with a particular emphasis on these two

points.

In accordance with the policy of assimilation, other legal conflicts revolving around aboriginal

traditions arose in different parts of the country. These conflicts usually developed following

amendments to the Indian Act which targeted cultural and religious ceremonies. As a result, between

the 1880s and 1950s various bans were being enforced across the country among many different

aboriginal groups. One well known example of this type of suppression is the Sun Dance ceremony of

the Plains First Nations, which was targeted by the government and police force in the early 1900s and 97Some researchers have even gone so far as to compare these events to the infamous Salem “witch trials” and coined the term “Windigo Trials” to describe the events. See Marano, 1982

24

led to the arrests of a number of participants. Many others were threatened with fines and prison

sentences.98 Some of the legislation amendments also directly affected medical practices. For example,

the Midewewin, whose very structure was based on periodic gatherings, was unable to meet publicly

and ceremonies had officially ceased to be held entirely by the 1950s.99 On the West Coast, the

infamous “Potlatch Law” of 1884 prohibited the giving-away gatherings but also the “Tamananawas” or

shamanistic rituals of the medicine people.100 For non-aboriginals, these restrictions were rationalised

by reinforcing negative pre-conceptions of aboriginal culture: as historian Maureen Lux explains, “The

construction of the healer as a quack and the dances as a barbaric waste of time served to justify the

repression of both.”101

In addition to these Indian Act restrictions on ceremonial gatherings, assimilation policies were

embodied within the educational system. The numbered treaties signed by the Anishinaabe bands had

promised, among other compensations, that the government would provide the means for education of

First Nations children. In Treaty no. 9 for example, the government had agreed to provide payment for

“salaries of teachers to instruct [their] children” as well as “such school buildings and educational

equipment as may seem advisable to His Majesty’s Government of Canada.”

Whatever the reasoning behind the suppression, traditional medicine along with

aboriginal cultures would suffer from government pressures.

102 Across the country,

establishments which were created to serve this purpose became the church-run Residential Schools.

The purpose of these schools was made explicit. Duncan Campbell Scott, Deputy Superintendent of

Indian Affairs stated in 1920 that: “Education is the answer to the Indian problem - education, education

until there is no Indian left.”103

98 Waldram, Herring and Young p.151

Residential schools were designed to assimilate aboriginal children into

Euro-Canadian society by actively separating them from their homes and their culture. This dark

chapter in Canadian history resulted in thousands of episodes of physical, sexual and mental abuse by

the guardians and teachers at the schools. Since the schools isolated students from their parents for

most of their childhood, interfamilial ties were shattered and this disruption continues to affect families

today. As a result of the linguistic and religious restrictions imposed on students, children and youths

99 Ibid. p.143 100 Ibid. p.149 101Cited in Dawn Martin Hill, “Traditional Medicine in Contemporary Contexts: Protecting and Respecting Indigenous Knowledge” and Medicine (Ottawa: National Aboriginal Health Organisation, 2003) 102Cited in John S. Long, “How the commissioners explained Treaty Number Nine to the Ojibway and Cree in 1905” (Ontario History, 2006: 1-30) 103 Cited in John Milloy, A National Crime: the Canadian Government and the Residential School System, 1879-1986 (Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1999) p.39

25

who survived the school system found themselves out of touch with their languages, elders, customs

and spiritual teachings. For Anishinaabe people, whose health had been so integrated into their

spirituality, community and traditional lifestyles, it is easy to see how the impact of the residential

schools would have been particularly strong.

The Introduction of Canadian Healthcare

While these efforts to suppress traditional culture were under way, Euro-Canadian health

institutions were beginning to establish themselves among First Nations. At all of the treaty signings,

physicians accompanied the government parties to provide free care for aboriginal people, they would

return yearly during the “treaty ceremonies”. 104 There is considerable debate as to whether verbal

promises towards healthcare were made during the signing of these treaties, but these have never been

acknowledged by the government. In the written documents, only Treaty no. 6 included clauses

promising government medical assistance. One clause promised aid during epidemics or famine and the

second promised the availability of a “medicine chest” in the cabin of the Indian agent. Even in this

case, however, the actual medical assistance provided to satisfy the clauses was rudimentary at best.105

By and large, First Nations people in search of Euro-Canadian medical services were left to seek out local

physicians (when available) or to consult Indian Agents or R.N.W.M.P. officers who sometimes

possessed limited medical knowledge. In 1904 the position of “General Medical Superintendent” with

full responsibility for Indian health was created, and a new awareness of the poor state of health of the

First Nations population in Canada developed. However, government concerns over costs meant that

many suggested improvements to healthcare were ignored and the system remained poorly organized

until the 1930s.106 It was during this decade that the first of many nursing stations were opened and

that the “Medical Branch” of Indian Affairs was firmly established. A network of small hospitals was also

built, along with sanatoria to treat the high rates of TB. Health services for First Nations continued to

develop across the country, and nursing stations and health centers in particular became an important

means of distributing healthcare to the widely spaced and remote communities. In 1960, as a result of

this development, the Indian and Northern Health Services were operating eighty-three health centres,

eighteen hospitals and thirty-three nursing stations.107

104 Waldram, Herring and Young, p.176

1971 saw the introduction of universal

105 Interestingly the Canadian government ruled in 1965 that it had no obligation to provide free healthcare to Treaty 6 signatories based on that fact that the “medicine chest” clause should be taken literally. 106 Waldram, Herring and Young p.188-189 107 Waldram, Herring and Young p.197

26

healthcare and questions of payment originating from controversy over the treaties “became

increasingly irrelevant in a country where everyone had access to medical services.”108

The introduction of these medical services was usually welcomed by aboriginal populations who

often suffered disproportionately from a number of health problems. There can be no doubt that the

care given by the nurses, doctors and other health professionals throughout the era contributed to the

improvement of well-being in the aboriginal populations. The fact that these health professionals were

often required to work with limited resources and forced to travel great distances to treat their patients

far from their own families and homes is a testament to their determination to help the populations

they served. Yet despite the best efforts of its workers, the healthcare institution has been unsuccessful

in one key aspect: it has not succeeded in closing the considerable gap that persists between aboriginal

and non-aboriginal health status. The Anishinaabe are no exception to this trend, as epidemiological

research reveals.

Although specific demographic analyses of the Anishinaabe as a single group have not been

carried out, a picture of Anishinaabe health can be drawn from the state of Aboriginal health in their

home regions. The modern Canadian Anishinaabe bands are primarily located in two provinces: in

Ontario where the Anishinaabe make up six of the thirteen local aboriginal groups,109 and in Manitoba

where two of the five groups indigenous to the province are of Anishinaabe heritage.110 In both cases,

First Nation populations consistently display poorer health indicators than non-aboriginals. In Manitoba

for example, research from 2005 shows that infant mortality rates, injury rates, suicide rates and chronic

disease rates are all higher among First Nations than among non-aboriginal Manitobans. Similarly life

expectancy is approximately 8 years lower for First Nations people.111

108 Ibid. p.188-198

Ontario First Nations share most

of these statistics, as well as higher obesity rates and suicide rates. Aboriginal self-perceptions of health

are also more negative. Only 78% of the First Nation population rated their individual health as

109 Noelle Spotton, A Profile of Aboriginal Peoples in Ontario (Commissioned Research for the Ipperwash Inquiry. Toronto: Government of Ontario, 2007) The Anishinaabe groups in Ontario are the Algonquin, Mississauga, Ojibway, Odawa, Potawatomi and Delaware. The Oji-Cree are grouped within either the Ojibway or the Cree in this source. The other bands are the Cree and the six nations of the Haudenosaunee. 110 Bruce Hallett et al. Aboriginal People in Manitoba (Government Report, Winnipeg: Manitoba Aboriginal Affairs Secretariat, 2006) Specifically the Ojibway and the Oji-Cree. The other groups are the Cree, Dene and Lakota. 111 Robert Allec, First Nations Health and Wellness in Manitoba. (Government of Manitoba: Aboriginal and Northern Affairs 2005)

27

excellent or good, compared with 90% in the non-aboriginal population.112 The current understanding

of this disparity attributes its causes to differences in the socio-economic conditions of the two

populations, such as education, housing, employment and income. From a historical perspective, these

differences can also be seen as the “intergenerational effect of colonization and residential schools”.113

The “Rebirth” of Traditional Medicine

In this respect, the decades of suppressive “colonization” of the Anishinaabe medical tradition have

certainly played an important part in undermining the health and well-being of the bands.

From the time of the “Windigo Trials” and the enforcement of the Indian act, healers in most

aboriginal communities had “gone underground”, practicing in secret and far from the watchful gaze of

government authorities.114 In Anishinaabe communities, this state of affairs persisted for the greater

part of the 20th century, but in the past decades traditional medical practices have begun to re-emerge.

In the 1970s the legal ban on religious and healing ceremonies was finally lifted as the image of the

healer as a “quack” and ceremonies as a “waste of time” began to be dispelled. Literature on the

subject of traditional medicine began to appear outside of academia, often within aboriginal

organisations or communities. Some aboriginal organisations promoting traditional healing were

formed in response to the inequalities in aboriginal health, including the National Aboriginal Health

Association (officially incorporated in 2000). Government organisations sponsoring initiatives were also

created, such as the “Aboriginal Healing and Wellness Strategy” in Ontario (created in 1990).115

Traditional healing centers, like the Iskotew Lodge in Ottawa and the All Nations Traditional Healing

Centre in Winnipeg, were created to offer traditional healing for aboriginals and non-aboriginals, as well

as to target aboriginal-specific health problems.116 Although traditional practices had never completely

ended in many aboriginal groups, they had now entered public discourse and could be carried out

openly without fear of retribution. Ceremonies like the Sweat Lodge and Healing Circles are now

commonplace and being introduced in areas where they had ceased to be practiced.117

112 Chandrakant P. Shah and Farah Ramji, Health Status Report of Aboriginal People in Ontario (Anishnawbe Health Toronto: July 29th 2005) These findings are based on evidence collected from 1995-2004.

This reversal in

113 Spotton, 2007 114 Waldram, Herring and Young p.152 115 National Aboriginal Health Organization “An Overview Of Traditional Knowledge And Medicine And Public Health In Canada” (Ottawa: 2008) 116 All Nations, for example, offers a program targeting residential school survivors and their families. 117 Waldram, Herring and Young p.241

28

aboriginal affairs, dubbed the “healing movement”, is currently under way in many aboriginal bands

across the country.

The changes in public attitude towards traditional healing have also created a new opportunity

for the integration of healers within public healthcare. One of the earlier attempts at integration in an

Anishinaabe setting was initiated at Lake of the Woods Hospital in Kenora in 1980, when the Ontario

government provided the funding required for the hiring of a traditional healer at the hospital. The idea

of hiring a single healer, on salary and in a hospital context, however, was met with some criticism and

changes had to be made through the input of the aboriginal community and its elders.118 The

integration process does pose some considerable challenges. Questions of certification, risk

management and payment have to be resolved in innovative ways since non-aboriginal concepts and

methods of labour are often at odds with aboriginal perceptions. And yet success stories have emerged

despite the difficulties. On Manitoulin Island, researchers Marion A. Maar and Marjory Shawande

examined the way in which Anishinaabe healers were integrated with biomedical professionals at

Noojmowin Teg Health Centre. They found that despite ongoing challenges the traditional healing

program had made much progress and they observed positive results and responses from those who

participated.119

Today the Anishinaabe healing tradition is perpetuated in many communities in North America.

Dr. Roxanne Struthers has collected a number of accounts from Anishinaabe healers and their patients

which describe the methodology of healing practices and their biomedical context. Current healing

methods can come in many forms: the shaking tent ceremonies are still widespread, as are sweat

lodges and botanical remedies. However medicine people also use story-telling, prayer, offerings,

talking, counselling and drumming to treat illness.

120

118 Ibid. p.239

The clinical context in which these traditional

healing methods are selected is highly variable. In some cases, patients turned to traditional healers as

an alternative for an undesired allopathic intervention. For example, in one of the accounts collected by

Struthers, a First Nations man who had been diagnosed with prostate cancer decided to consult a

medicine woman as an alternative to post-operative radio-therapy. In other cases, traditional practices

may be used following the recommendations of a primary healthcare provider. This is particularly true

119 Marion A. Maar and Marjory Shawande, “Traditional Anishinabe Healing in a Clinical Setting: The Development of an Aboriginal Interdisciplinary Approach to Community-based Aboriginal Mental Health Care” (Journal of Aboriginal Health 2010: 18-27) 120 Roxanne Struthers, Valerie S. Eschiti and Beverly Patchell, “Traditional Indigenous Healing: Part I” (Complementary Therapies in Nursing & Midwifery 2004: 141-149)

29

in areas where relationships are developing between traditional healers and health professionals, and in

these cases doctors or nurses may refer patients to healers, or vice-versa. As a result of this

cooperation, traditional healing may begin to limit its sphere of treatment, leaving certain ailments to be

cared for by allopathic practitioners. In Manitoba, for example, some medicine people working

alongside biomedical health professionals now distinguish between what they call “White Man’s

sickness” and “Anishinaabe Sickness”. The latter form of disease is treated by the healers themselves,

while the “White man’s” diseases are referred to the physicians or nurses of the allopathic system.121

Conclusion

Before the arrival of Europeans, the Anishinaabe had developed a complex healing tradition to

suit their medical needs and to help maintain the well-being and integrity of their groups. This medical

system consisted of a number of different types of practitioners who held a central role in society and

who developed medicine societies with specific ethical and behavioural codes. They integrated aspects

of Anishinaabe culture, environment and spirituality in a holistic medical paradigm which complemented

the lifestyle of their people. In the Treaty Era, the time of the Fiddler Trial, the Anishinaabe and other

aboriginal cultures came under attack by the newly formed Canadian government, in many cases

because of medical ceremonies and practices. Groups like the Sucker Clan were compelled to abandon

their traditional ways and sign treaties with the government, beginning a period of radical change in

lifestyle. During this time, the Indian Act began to regulate aboriginal behaviour and medical culture

was consequently suppressed. The western medical system also became firmly established within

aboriginal communities, and traditional medicine went underground. At the end of the 20th century, as

the repression policies finally came to an end, this trend was reversed. Traditional medicine once again

began to be publicly available and today it is slowly becoming integrated in the healthcare system of

many Anishinaabe communities. Yet even where this integration is taking place, relationships between

healers and health professionals are not always mutually respectful. One Anishinaabe healer described

an instant where he was asked to give a talk at the local hospital on natural remedies, particularly the

use of plants in Aboriginal medicine. During an explanation of the importance of developing a

relationship with the plant world, the healer noticed that a number of doctors stood up and left the

room. He later commented that many doctors have difficulty trying to understand traditional medicine,

121 Waldram, Herring and Young p.246

30

and added that “[the physicians] sometimes have a hard time if things are not done their way...I respect

the medicine, I just wish Western medical persons would understand.”122

When reflecting upon incidents such as this one, it is important to consider the historical effects

that past attitudes of non-aboriginal Canadians have had on aboriginal societies. As the Fiddler case

demonstrates, it was the inability of the broader Canadian public to sympathise with an aboriginal

health paradigm (and more generally with aboriginal cultures) which permitted the persecution of

traditional practices and the century of repressive measures which followed. This repression, as I have

argued in the final section, is one of the key factors that have contributed to the poor state of health in

Anishinaabe communities today. Knowing this, we can draw from our historical perspective in order to

guide our current attitudes towards aboriginal healing methods and to further the revival of traditional

medicine. It is a change in attitude, one tolerant of a pluralistic approach to healthcare, which will

continue to reverse the historical trend of repression and improve the wellbeing of the aboriginal

population. For non-aboriginals this means developing a sense of humility towards our own healthcare

institutions and an appreciation for the ways of knowing and healing of different cultures. Although

many challenges lie ahead for the development of truly integrated aboriginal medicine, it is my hope

that the end of cultural suppression marks a new chapter in Canadian medical history, a time of

collective healing for the Anishinaabe and for all the people of Turtle Island.

122 Roxanne Struthers, Valerie S. Escheti and Beverly Patchell “The Experience of Being an Anishinabe Man Healer: Ancient Healing in a Modern World” (Journal of Cultural Diversity 2008: 70-75)

31

Figure 1: Map of Ojibway distribution in Canada according to sub-group: we can see the respective territories of the Southeastern Ojibway, the Southwestern Ojibway, the Northern Ojibway, the Winnipeg Saultaux and the Plains Ojibway. (From Johnston, Ojibway Heritage, p.10)

Leadership Defence Sustenance Learning Medicine Crane Goose Look Hawk Sparrow Hawk White Headed Eagle Black Headed Eagle Brant Seagull

Bear Wolf Lynx

Marten Beaver Moose Caribou Deer Muskrat

Catfish Pike Sucker Sturgeon Whitefish

Turtle Otter Rattle Snake Black Snake Frog Merman/ Mermaid

Figure 2: Existing clan names and their grouping in the five-class system of Anishinaabe society. (reproduced from Johnston, Ojibway Ceremonies, p.60)

32

Figure 3: Different treaties signed in Anishinaabe lands. Numbered treaties are in green, Robinson treaties in yellow and Williams treaties in red. (Natural Resources Canada, Atlas of Canada: Historical Indian Treaties, 2009)

Figure 4: The court room at Norway House. (Public Archives of Canada, R. G. 18-A1, Volume 347, File 42)

33

Figure 5: From left to right: Constable Cashman of the RNWMP, Minowapawin (Norman Rae), Manawapait (Angus Rae) and Pasequan (Joseph Fiddler). (Public Archives of Canada, R. G. 18-A1, Volume 347, File 42)

Figure 6: Full letter from Pasequan to the Minister of Justice. Public Archives of Canada. R. G. 13-B1, Volume 1452, File 386.

34

Figure 7: Shingwauk Indian Residential School (Shingwauk Hall), an Anglican establishment at Sault Ste-Marie which saw many Anishinaabe students between 1934 and its closure in 1971. (Photograph from Assembly of First Nations website, Canadian Residential Schools Unit, 10th August 2010)

35

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