Prospero | Fur-reaching consequences

What does it mean to be Métis?

As the number of Canadians claiming indigenous identity increases, a debate about race intensifies

By A.V.

JUNE 21ST is National Indigenous Peoples Day, an occasion for Canada to celebrate the cultures and achievements of its aboriginal inhabitants. Two of the three groups honoured—First Nation peoples and Inuit—have lived in Canada for thousands of years. But for around 450,000 Canadian Métis things are different: they emerged later, when European settlers married aboriginal women. This history continues to be important: it shapes contemporary Métis culture as well as arguments about what it means in modern Canada.

Though some scholars look earlier and further east, it is generally thought that the first Métis developed from about 1650, as British and French traders moved to the Great Lakes in search of expensive beaver pelts. These adventurers soon met indigenous peoples, and their children became the first Métis (the word means “mixed” in French). From the start, this society melded European and aboriginal elements. Métis women used local beadwork to decorate tight-fitting European clothing, for example. Their diet incorporated indigenous-style buffalo fat as well as tourtière, a hearty Quebecois pie.

Métis ways of speaking were just as mixed. Michif, one of their traditional languages, developed as a blustery combination of English, French, Cree and other native tongues. If nouns like rosh (rock) and kutu (knives) are basically recognisable to French speakers today, the verb nimiyaymow (I like) is probably not. Métis music was shaped by similar forces, blending French folk songs, Scottish jigs and native rhythms. Even the gender relations of early Métis communities were special. With the men often away trapping or trading, women were responsible for developing culture, explains Jennifer Adese, a specialist in Métis identity at Carleton University in Ottawa.

As the 19th century dawned, the Métis in what became Manitoba forged a distinct political identity, like the Cree, Assiniboine and other First Nation peoples. In the words of one colonial official, speaking in 1818, the Métis saw themselves as “an independent tribe of natives, entitled to a property in the soil, to a flag of their own”. Not that membership of this budding “Métis Nation” was a purely ethnic label. William Henry Jackson, a radical campaigner born to English parents in Ontario, rebaptised himself Honoré Jackson and spent years fighting for Métis rights.

Tensions erupted in 1869 as Britain prepared to transfer Métis land to the new Canadian government. Louis Riel, an activist who was himself only one-eighth indigenous, set up the Métis National Committee and rebelled against Canadian rule. These fights ended badly: in 1885, Riel was executed and the prime minister shunned Métis nationhood. “If they are Indians, they go with the tribe; if they are half-breeds they are whites.” The “half-breed” label stuck, and some Métis grew used to being mocked as “traitors”.

Things improved. In 1938 activists secured land for Métis settlements in Alberta. From 1982 the Canadian constitution recognised Métis identity. These legal changes shadow a new awareness of Métis culture; Métis people are more visible on television and in the press. Christi Belcourt, an artist who merges indigenous beadwork with European floral motifs, is recognised for her work: in 2016, she won the prestigious Governor General’s Innovation Award. At the same time, activists try to keep Michif alive for a new generation, even as UNESCO warns it could die. Edgar Desjarlais’s work uses whimsy. His latest book, translated into Michif by his cousin, is called “J’aime paa lii biibiits!” (“I don’t like bugs!”) and follows a boy trying to escape creepy crawlies as he plays on the beach.

Younger Métis are examining their culture in thoughtful new ways. Fashion is one path. Evan Ducharme, a fashion designer, crafts sharp waistcoats with traditional patterns. Métis writing is just as engaging. “The Break” (2016), a novel by Katherena Vermette, depicts a young Métis woman from gritty north Winnipeg. Gregory Scofield, both Métis and gay, explores his heritage and sexuality through intimate poetry:

I always keep to the lingo

They understand

Hey pretty buck,

Wanna come to my tee-pee

And lie on some soft fur?

This culture has spread online, too. The Virtual Museum of Métis History and Culture is a fabulous, free archive of hundreds of pictures, texts and audio recordings. “The Jig Is Up”, a podcast, focuses on Métis society and people.

Yet with around 20% of their children living in poverty, the Métis suffer similar levels of deprivation to other indigenous Canadians. Broader issues over the community persist. Though the Métis Nation on the prairies is a settled part of Canadian life, the question of Métis identity is still controversial.

The number of self-identifying “Métis” has grown in recent years, especially in eastern Canada. Nova Scotia witnessed a 124.3% jump in its Métis population from 2006-16. In practical terms, this is easy to understand. White Canadians can claim Métis ancestry more easily than they could First Nation or Inuit heritage (who generally have less European blood than their Métis cousins). And given the old absolutism towards race—trapping Métis as either “Indian” or “white”—recovering lost heritage seems fair. “I think sometimes it just comes from a place of curiosity,” Ms Adese says.

But some “new” Métis are not happy to simply grow their family tree. They use the label to demand the privileges reserved for aboriginal Canadians, including fishing rights and tax cuts. Some cite a Supreme Court ruling of 2016 that says the federal government owes a “fiduciary duty” to Métis people. A group of “new” Métis in Quebec have even claimed, wrongly, that they are the only indigenous people left in the province. They argue that European genes helped their ancestors survive the diseases that killed native populations.

These charges have frustrated First Nation peoples, as well as Métis groups farther west. “Métis is such an easy term to use for everyone who does not fit into existing cultural nations,” said Clément Chartier, president of the Métis National Council. Most academics believe that the Métis emerged in the Great Lakes and prairies, not Quebec or Nova Scotia. Ms Adese, the associate professor, agrees, but says racial bickering misses the point. Métisness is as much “a worldview, a way of living in relation to the environment, as it is about bloodlines.” With time and effort, she hints, some Nova Scotians might be welcomed into Métis society; given the legacy of figures like Honoré Jackson, she has a point. But with C$4.7bn ($3.6bn) set aside for indigenous Canadians over the next five years, some new Métis might not be so patient.

Discover more

An American musical about mental health takes off in China

The protagonist of “Next to Normal” has bipolar disorder. The show is encouraging audiences to open up about their own well-being

Sue Williamson’s art of resistance

Aesthetics and politics are powerfully entwined in the 50-year career of the South African artist


What happened to the “Salvator Mundi”?

The recently rediscovered painting made headlines in 2017 when it fetched $450m at auction. Then it vanished again