Kanehsatake: 270 Years Of Resistance

When the mayor of Oka, a Canadian village in Quebec, ignored the claims of local Kanehsatake Mohawks and gave the go-ahead to build a golf course on ancient burial grounds, a band of Mohawk protesters (who called themselves "warriors") and the police exchanged fire, leaving one officer dead. Immediately following the encounter, the warriors overturned police cars and other official vehicles, and bulldozed them into place to form barricades. Filmmaker Alanis Obomsawin shares with us--without a hint of irony--Mohawk activist Ellen Gabriel's summation of the tragic turn of events on July 11, 1990: "I think we all conducted ourselves in a very honorable way." With negotiations stalled, the stand-off would drag on for some 78 days with no real resolution, and Obomsawin faithfully records the taunts, shoves, beatings, and interminable macho posings on both sides. Watching Mohawk warriors in camouflage with names like "Psycho" and "The General" squaring off against Major Alain Tremblay and the Canadian army, we keep waiting for the critically detached and astute eye of the filmmaker to bring larger meaning to what is essentially a huge pissing contest (not the original battle over land rights, mind you, which is quite valid; but the endless behind the scenes footage of name-calling and tinkertoy level military strategy). But, except for a brief historical overview of the land rights issue at the beginning of the film, Kanehsatake is a blow-by-blow account of people in extremely emotional situations acting in mostly shameful ways (I suspect that Thoreau, Gandhi, and Martin Luther King would have balked at the warriors "honorable" approach to civil disobedience.) We see Canadian army personnel tackling, kicking and handcuffing the warriors as they leave the encampment; we also see Mohawk women pushing Canadian army personnel into barbed wire. Unfortunately, the filmmaker doesn't seem to understand that both of these acts are reprehensible--a good cause doesn't make bad acts better; or as our mothers used to remind us "two wrongs don't make a right." Ultimately, this fuzzy moral relativism is the most disturbing aspect of Kanehsatake. Tighter editing, less unwarranted self-righteousness (few role models are on display here from either side), and more focus on the land rights issue would have made for a more palatable film. As it is, Kanehsatake trades analysis and critical commentary for the far easier task of making a self-congratulatory record of one side of the event. Libraries with large multicultural collections may want to consider; for others this is an optional purchase. (R. Pitman)