(There are two federally recognized Indian tribes in the Chilkat Valley, the Chilkat Indian Village and the Chilkoot Indian Association. In much of this essay, I will use the word “tribe” in a more generic sense, to describe a group of people who share common beliefs and common livelihood. In Webster’s New World Dictionary, this is definition number 3 of the word tribe: “any group of people having the same occupation, habits, ideas, etc.”)
A chronic criticism of the Haines Borough Assembly is that we talk too much and our meetings run too long.
As proof, someone recently researched the duration of town meetings in Petersburg and Skagway and found theirs were considerably shorter than ours. For some residents, this will reinforce their belief that Haines is dysfunctional or that local politics is unworkable.
Assembly meetings do run long and people who live here do disagree often, but might the root cause of those things be more organic and less threatening than they become when we describe local government as “dysfunctional” or issues as “divisive”?
Might there be information about the Haines citizenry that might better explain why it takes time for us to make community decisions? Borough leaders have said for years that it’s our “diversity” that makes us difficult to govern. That’s a simplistic view. Let’s take a deeper look.
I wrote about this topic previously in a newspaper editorial where I noted that 75 percent of Haines residents were born outside Alaska, making us a town of immigrants. I suggested that such a town is inherently difficult to govern, as immigrants tend to have high opinions of themselves and of their opinions. Further, each immigrant has a unique perspective based on their unique history.
My recent thinking was more deeply informed by Sebastian Junger’s 2016 book, “Tribe: On Homecoming and Belonging.” The thesis of Junger’s book is that “we have a strong instinct to belong to small groups defined by clear purpose and understanding. This tribal connection has been largely lost in modern society, but regaining it may be the key to our psychological survival.”
Junger’s book goes in many directions, including demonstrating that tribal societies dealt more effectively with issues like post-traumatic stress than does our modern, pluralistic society. But Junger’s larger point is that tribes not only are politically efficient, they’re also effective at satisfying people’s needs, including social and emotional ones.
What Junger doesn’t say is how to superimpose tribal models on larger social groups, as tribes by definition hold in common many core traits, including spiritual beliefs and forms of livelihood. (Under the primary dictionary definition, tribes also share a common ancestry, like our local Indian tribes.)
This is important because when it comes to technological advances, professional expertise and consumer opportunities, Haines may be 10 years behind the rest of the world. But in terms of social diversity, we’re cutting edge.
Besides the fact that we are 75 percent immigrant, we have immigrated here for very different reasons. Some are here for economic values. Some for recreational or lifestyle values. Others, most recently the Jehovah’s Witnesses, are here for religious values. The other 25 percent of us are minority populations of natives – here primarily because they were born here – and Alaska Natives, who are here because they were born here and their ancestors further back than memory were born here.
(Those last two groups are important, because in many societies they tend to dominate politically, either by virtue of representing a numerical majority or through control due to longevity of presence in the community. That’s not the case in Haines, where only two government leaders – Tresham Gregg and Jan Hill are native or Native.)
Then there’s the matter of livelihoods. Haines residents don’t share much in common there, either. Our town is comprised of – and thus our government must endeavor to represent – loggers, day traders, telecommuters, trust funders, retirees, oilfield workers, commercial fishermen, artists, office staffers, and more.
Places like Petersburg and Skagway – whose populations at least share a common form of livelihood (fishing in the former, and tourism in the latter) are much more tribal. In fact, Petersburg’s Scandinavian history provides it with another key, tribal asset – a common ancestry.
When it comes to community decision making, if most of a a town’s population is in the same line of work and many citizens are related, finding common ground will be much easier.
A common ancestry isn’t critical, but a common history goes a long way. Think of typical, successful small towns in the United States. Most residents don’t move away, or at least they’re not inclined to. Much, if not most residents, grew up together and know each other or of each other. Many such towns have successful, dominant families who provide its economic and political leadership.
Often times, these towns also have “clubs” where leaders meet to socialize and hash out the issues of the day. I spent a day at such a club, The Massillon Club of Massillon, Ohio in 1981, where I was a guest by virtue of my escort, a newspaper editor who could gain entry only through the membership of his boss, the town’s influential newspaper publisher.
The Haines Borough is the inverse of that situation. Most of us didn’t grow up with each other. We don’t know each other all that well, and our town doesn’t have dominant families, institutions, or industries we trust to the make decisions for the rest of us.
If tribes, our most basic and most enduring form of social and political organization, are functional in part because of common characteristics, the Haines Borough is the opposite of a tribe. We’re more New York City than we are Peoria, Illinois. To use a metaphor that might resonate, we are like 2,500 passengers who get on a cruise ship, then are given responsibility for operating the ship and determining its destinations. That’s going to require a lot of discussion, and the discussion may include some rough sailing.
Now look at Klukwan, a community that has been around more than 1,000 years and meets the primary definition of a tribe for having a common ancestry. Its government, the Chilkat Indian Village Tribal Council, has been strikingly successful in recent years in rebuilding village infrastructure, developing a tourism project, and keeping up enrollment at its tiny school.
Compared to Haines, the village came to agreement on goals in lightning speed. I haven’t researched the duration of village council meetings, but I’m sure they’re also much shorter than ones of the assembly.
This isn’t to say that a community must be a tribe to succeed, or that all tribes are functional. But it’s clear that tribal characteristics of social commonality go a long way toward finding common purpose and forging ahead.
For the record, there were times in our modern history when Haines was more tribal than it is today.
Old-timers can become nostalgic about the 1960s and early 1970s, when two sawmills provided lots of jobs, the school was full, and the economy was booming. “Everyone was on the same team,” these folks say, and they’re mostly right.
In terms of demographics, Haines was fairly monolithic at that time. Many people shared the same livelihood – timber. The majority of residents were here for economic reasons. By virtue of relative income equality, many held similar social and moral values.
The decline of timber, the advance of the tourism and recreation industries, ease of travel, Baby Boomer retirements, and advances in telecommunications all have contributed to make Haines a very different place than it was in the 1960s.
We have a very different population now, made up of people with many different views and values. Governing such a population is necessarily a challenge. Accepting that, why would we expect town meetings to be short?