INDIGENOUS
LAW SUMMARIES:
SELECTED RECENT LAW REVIEW ARTICLES
by
Susan K. Serrano, Director of Educational Development
Derek Kauanoe, 3L
The Center for Excellence in Native Hawaiian Law is committed to exploring
and critically examining the many significant and pressing issues facing
Native Hawaiians. In order to provide lawyers, community members, students,
advocates and legal scholars with helpful tools and critical analyses
of Native Hawaiian law, the Center is providing below brief summaries
of recent law review articles on issues facing Native Hawaiians and
other Indigenous peoples. This issue of Ka He‘e summarizes articles
on different aspects of self-determination, including the concept of
“nationhood” under domestic U.S. law and contemporary international
law, the institutional protection of traditional Hawaiian knowledge,
and the implications of international court decisions on the political
rights of Indigenous peoples.
1. Rebecca Anita Tsosie, What Does It Mean To “Build A Nation”?
Re-Imagining Indigenous Political Identity in an Era of Self-Determination,
7 ASIAN-PAC. L. & POL’Y J. 38 (2006).
This article “concerns the
concept of ‘nationhood’ for indigenous peoples.” Professor Tsosie first
asserts that “Hawai‘i is a vitally important site for the articulation
of self-determination because of its unique history and because of the
different political and cultural context of Native sovereignty[.]” In
considering how one might re-imagine the Nation of Hawai‘i today, she
examines three frameworks: domestic Federal Indian law, the international
human rights model, and “cultural sovereignty … a process of imagining
nationhood and sovereignty from within the indigenous nation itself.”
The
author first describes the history, development and elements of Federal
Indian Law. She focuses, in particular, on the relevance of three U.S.
Supreme Court cases known as the Marshall Trilogy (Johnson v. McIntosh,
Cherokee Nation v. Georgia, and Worcester v. Georgia),
which together provide the framework for treating Indian nations as
“domestic dependent nations.”
She emphasizes that “Federal
Indian law developed two important features: first, the idea that Congress
possesses ‘plenary power’ to regulate Indian tribes; and second, the
idea that this Congressional power is modified by the ‘trust responsibility’
of the federal government to act in the best interests of its Indian
‘wards.’” Under this model, while Tribes have the right of self-governance,
the emphasis is clearly on their “dependent” status. According to Tsosie,
“this ‘dependency’ is what ensures that the federal government is the
supreme sovereign, and that the Indian nations operate within the larger
federal structure.” Moreover, the federal government’s trust responsibility,
which is “moral” rather than legally enforceable, “has not been effective
to constrain Congressional action that harms tribal interests.”
The author also explains
that Tribes, as domestic dependent nations, have a “quasi-sovereign”
status. Congress, therefore, can constitutionally pass special legislation
on behalf of tribes because they have a group status that is “political”
and not purely “racial.” With quasi-sovereign status, “tribes have the
ability to appeal to the federal government to administer their programs
under federal law, and that they should generally be accorded this right
in the interests of enhancing tribal “self-governance.”
Questions regarding tribal
sovereignty have been left unanswered by the U.S. Supreme Court. These
unanswered questions arise from United States v. Lara, which highlights
“the Court's growing discomfort with tribal sovereignty.” For example,
Justice Thomas’ concurring opinion in that case described Federal Indian
Law as schizophrenic and at odds with itself. The dissenting opinion
by Justices Souter and Scalia “sets up a tension between Congress and
the Supreme Court as to which branch has the power to decide the future
of tribal sovereignty, and further indicates that the ‘domestic dependent
nation’ model is not a repository of ‘true’ sovereignty.”
Tsosie then describes the
second framework, the international human rights model. Part of an older
natural rights tradition, this model is “associated with the idea of
civil rights, leading some countries, such as the United States, to
claim the … model as largely disruptive of the constitutional and statutory
civil rights already present under domestic law.” For the author, the
key question is “whether indigenous peoples are ‘peoples’ for purposes
of Article 1 [of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights],
or whether ‘self-determination’ means something different for indigenous
peoples.” In addition, international law focuses on nation-states and
“protects the stability of this global structure” rather than on non-state
entities such as indigenous peoples. Thus, “while indigenous peoples
are attempting to carve out a space within the larger global structure
by employing constructs of international human rights, they are still
excluded from the brotherhood of nations that characterizes international
law.”
Tsosie describes the relevant
aspects of international law, including the International Covenant on
Civil and Political Rights and the United Nations Draft Declaration
on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. She also discusses three conceptual
structures within international law that may apply to Indigenous peoples’
claims: “nondiscrimination,” “minority rights,” and “self-determination.”
She emphasized that self-determination claims, while perhaps most relevant,
are the least understood. She then shares some insight on self-determination
and which groups are entitled to raise such claims.
Finally, the author describes
the third model, “cultural sovereignty,” as “the effort of Native peoples
and Native nations to exercise their own norms and values in structuring
their collective future.” In other words, sovereignty must be defined
from “within.” She argues that Native Hawaiians are currently engaged
in this process.
Tsosie then highlights possible
options for Native Hawaiians. One model is full and independent sovereignty.
Another option is the formation of a nation with a protectorate relationship
with the United States. Another model is the domestic dependent nation
(of which the Akaka Bill is only a preliminary step). The last example
is similar to the Nunavut territory in Canada, which is a hybrid model
expressed through a domestic, democratic participatory structure.
For
the author, there is a compelling argument that the Nation of Hawai‘i
can be recognized again as a full and independent sovereign. The doctrine
of discovery (applied to the Indian nations by the Supreme Court in
Johnson v. McIntosh to justify the taking of native lands)
was never applied to the Hawaiian people; rather, the Hawaiian Kingdom
was internationally recognized as an independent sovereign. In addition,
“[u]nlike the Indian treaties, the treaties of peace and friendship
with the Kingdom of Hawai‘i did not place the Kingdom under the ‘sole
and exclusive protection’ of the United States. These facts completely
distinguish the historical position of the Kingdom of Hawai‘i from that
of the American Indian nations as a matter of international and domestic
law.”
Tsosie then considers whether
“the contemporary experience of the Hawaiian people [can] be linked
to that of American Indian and Alaska Native peoples through a common
identity of ‘indigenous people[.]’” She emphasizes that Native Hawaiians
do not fit within the domestic dependent nation model for three main
reasons: the Hawaiian monarchy was not a tribal structure, Hawaiian
Kingdom citizenship was not restricted to aboriginal Hawaiians, and
the Hawaiian Kingdom had a complex system of land titles “quite different
than American Indian claims to ‘aboriginal title.’” Thus, the Hawaiian
Kingdom fits within the model of the “civilized nations” for which Chief
Justice Marshall would have prescribed different rules.
2.
Gregory K. Schlais, The Patenting of Sacred Biological Resources,
The Taro Patent Controversy in Hawai‘i: A Soft Law Proposal, 29
U. HAW. L. REV. 581 (2007).
This article focuses on
the patenting of certain kalo (taro) varieties by the University of
Hawai‘i, while exploring the shortcomings of Western intellectual property
law in protecting Indigenous peoples’ intellectual property around the
globe. Before describing the events and facts surrounding the University’s
kalo patenting efforts, the author discusses patent and copyright law
and the conflict of values between indigenous communities and profit-driven
entities and individuals.
In describing the difficulty
of applying patent law to traditional knowledge, Schlais explains that
patents are used as incentives to provide individuals with the exclusive
opportunity to capitalize on their inventions or discoveries that are
either new or novel. Because traditional knowledge is developed over
time, applying the “new or novel” intellectual property law requirement
is nearly impossible.
The existence of an identifiable
inventor is also usually a necessary requirement. The author points
out that traditional knowledge is not invented by a single person, but
comes from the experiences of different people spanning generations.
In addition, copyright law, which normally applies to written and printed
forms of expression that are unique works of authorship, does not usually
cover oral expressions shared between generations.
As Schlais explains, indigenous
groups tend to use and share traditional knowledge within their communities.
If indigenous traditional knowledge is owned at all, it belongs to (or
is shared by) the community as a whole, rather than the exclusive benefit
of any one person. Patent and copyright law, on the other hand, is designed
to protect individual owners of inventions, patents or written modes
of expression.
Native Hawaiians’ relationship
to kalo is important to traditional Hawaiian spirituality. Kalo, as
an ancestor to Native Hawaiians, is integral to cultural identity. Due
to this pivotal role in Hawaiian culture, history and spirituality,
the concept of creating and owning “hybrid” kalo created from Hawaiian
kalo is offensive to many Native Hawaiians.
In an effort to reconcile
the interests and rights of Indigenous groups with companies’ interests,
the author suggests a soft law proposal, which looks to the Convention
on Biological Diversity as a framework. The Convention was “one of the
key agreements adopted at the Earth Summit of 1992, [and] is a comprehensive
multilateral agreement signed by 190 nations that attempts to address
all aspects of biological diversity and sustainable development.” The
author asserts that the protection of traditional knowledge is intimately
linked to safeguarding the cultural integrity of indigenous peoples.
For him, Western organizations need to recognize this and ensure that
traditional knowledge is not misappropriated in violation of indigenous
peoples’ rights to cultural integrity.
The author also points out
that indigenous groups often have their own laws and principles governing
the use of traditional knowledge. By respecting these laws and principles,
commercial organizations will be better able to respect and access indigenous
knowledge.
The Convention on Biological
Diversity requires that “signatory parties perform environmental impact
assessments on activities that may have a detrimental effect on biodiversity.”
The author contends that cultural impacts should be evaluated as well.
Such an evaluation will not only assist in safeguarding the interests
of indigenous peoples, but can also yield critical information before
working with an indigenous community. Highlighting two examples, Schlais
contends that practices like these are not uncommon.
For the author, mutuality
and equitable sharing of benefits is also important. It has been estimated
that less than 0.001 percent of profits from drugs developed using indigenous,
traditional knowledge have been equitably shared with the indigenous
peoples who developed such knowledge. The equitable sharing of benefits
is consistent with the cultural value system and worldview of Indigenous
peoples and should be required to benefit indigenous communities.
In addition, Schlais argues,
prior informed consent should be required. Prior informed consent “gives
parties to the Convention the chance to assess the benefits and risks
of taking part in any research endeavor before the resources are shared
or any collaborative research is done.” Prior informed consent should
also specify uses for which consent has been granted. Prior informed
consent should be obtained for any change in the use of the indigenous,
traditional knowledge or material, including the utilization of the
knowledge by third parties.
The author also asserts
that “[a] time frame governing use of indigenous, traditional knowledge
should be established by the parties and should not only include absolute
time limits for the use of the traditional knowledge, but should also
include establishment of milestones and the requisite obligations incurred
at each milestone.” The establishment of a time frame should ensure
that benefits are shared with indigenous communities at corresponding
points throughout the process of developing a marketable product from
the indigenous, traditional knowledge. Establishing a time frame that
institutionalizes compensation or renewed negotiations at the various
milestones that may be achieved during the process of research and development
of a marketable product may help to address concerns regarding the misappropriation
of indigenous, traditional knowledge.
For the author, relationship
building is crucial to both sides. In particular, it is important for
Western organizations to understand that a relationship of trust is
essential to profitable access to indigenous, traditional knowledge.
Such a relationship of trust can play a meaningful role in ensuring
the needs of both Western organizations and indigenous peoples.
3.
Maia Sophia Campbell, The Right of Indigenous Peoples to Political
Participation and the Case of Yatama v. Nicaragua, 24 ARIZ. J.
INT’L & COMP. L. 499 (2007).
This
article describes the impact of the Inter-American Court of Human Rights’
ruling in the case of YATAMA v. Nicaragua. According to the
author, the case “is a landmark legal precedent for guaranteeing indigenous
peoples the right to political participation.”
YATAMA, or Yapti Tasba Masraka
Nanih Asla Takanka (Organization of the Children of Mother Earth), is
a major indigenous political party whose membership is primarily Miskito
Indian. It is “the successor of an association originating in the 1970s
as the principal organization of the indigenous peoples of the Atlantic
Coast of Nicaragua … [that] promotes indigenous self-government and
seeks to protect indigenous ancestral territories.” The party’s organizational
and electoral structure “is linked to the traditions and customs of
the indigenous communities of the Atlantic Coast and is part of their
cultural identity.”
As the author describes,
in 2000, Nicaragua denied YATAMA participation in municipal elections
based on a technical requirement of a new election law. As a result,
“between 85% and 95% of voters in the Atlantic Coast region of Nicaragua
abstained from voting in the elections.” The law had “required all political
organizations, including YATAMA, to change their traditional methods
of organization and fulfill a series of strict requirements to participate
as a political party.” It required parties to register candidates in
80% of municipalities and “forced YATAMA to restructure its indigenous
customary organization in a way “antithetical to its traditional organization,
which was based on ‘communitarian democracy.’” When the YATAMA party
received no redress in Nicaraguan domestic courts, the party turned
to the Inter-American Court of Human Rights.
In
YATAMA v. Nicaragua, the Inter-American Court of Human Rights
ruled that Nicaragua violated Article 23 (the right to political participation)
and Article 24 (the right to equality before the law) of the American
Convention on Human Rights. According to the author, the court’s ruling
“marks the first time an international tribunal has found that a state
violated political rights and equal protection rights by denying the
political participation of an indigenous group.”
The
decision interprets the right to political participation for indigenous
peoples to include “the specific rights to (1) special remedial measures
and procedural safeguards to ensure effective participation and (2)
participate in national political systems according to indigenous traditional
systems.” As the author asserts, “[b]y recognizing the rights of indigenous
peoples to effectively participate in the national politics
of the dominant society, in accordance with their traditional forms
of organization and practices, YATAMA v. Nicaragua advances
the rights to self-determination and equality for indigenous peoples.”
Among
other things, as Campbell explains, the court determined that the universal
rights of equality and political participation give rise the state’s
obligation “to adopt affirmative and differentiated measures to guarantee
the participation of indigenous groups under conditions of equality
and to take into consideration their customary forms of organization.”
Thus, “Nicaragua is obligated to ‘adopt all the necessary measures
to guarantee that members of indigenous and ethnic communities
of the Atlantic Coast of Nicaragua can participate, under conditions
of equality, in the development of policies that influence, or
could influence, their rights and the development of their communities.’”
In addition, those “measures should be adopted through the indigenous
community’s own institutions and ‘in accordance with their values,
uses, customs, and forms of organization.’”
According
to the author, the Court also ordered Nicaragua to institute remedial
measures, including: publishing in its official newspaper and other
newspapers of national circulation portions of the Court’s order and
transmitting them by radio in the three indigenous languages of the
region (Miskito, Sumo, and Rama) and in Spanish and English; creating,
within a reasonable time, a judicial resource that is simple, speedy,
and effective to regulate the decisions of the Supreme Electoral Council,
the branch of government that controls elections; and paying damages
and expenses. Most importantly, the author argues, the court held that
“Nicaragua shall adopt, within a reasonable timeframe, necessary measures
so that the members of indigenous and ethnic communities ‘can effectively
participate in electoral processes, taking into consideration their
traditions, uses and customs.’”
Campbell
then identifies and explains a number of international human rights
instruments and suggested that international practice, now reinforced
by the YATAMA decision, “shows movement toward a widespread
international consensus and a norm of customary international law affirming
special rights of political participation for indigenous people.”
Finally, she highlights
Latin American states’ legislative and constitutional provisions that
provide mechanisms to encourage indigenous political participation and
that contribute to emerging customary international law on the issue.
According to the author, this domestic legislation “increasingly reflect[s]
the norms embodied in international practice that recognize the right
to effective political participation of indigenous groups in accordance
with their customary laws, values, and traditions.”
For example, the constitutions
and laws of Ecuador, Mexico, Guatemala, Nicaragua, and Paraguay “affirm
the right of indigenous peoples in particular to participate in the
national politics of the state”; Colombia, Peru, and Venezuela have
special measures to guarantee indigenous seats within political parties
and in national political bodies; Panama’s and Mexico’s laws create
special indigenous voting districts; Nicaragua, Colombia, Panama, and
Ecuador have autonomous regions for indigenous self-government and grant
those “autonomous regions the right to elect representatives in the
national government”; and Mexico, Bolivia, Colombia, and Ecuador “allow
indigenous peoples to elect representatives and form political parties
according to their own customs and traditions.” The author notes, however,
that these provisions are only a first step towards solving the problem
of indigenous groups’ lack of effective political participation.