Nations Rising – A story of Nisga'a strength

North of 60 Mining News - May 2, 2025

A.J. Roan, Mining News |


Nisga'a Nation 
The Nisg̱a'a territory stretches from the mouth of the K'alii Aksim Lisims (the Nass River) to the Hazelton Mountains, with main communities located in the Nass Valley.

New documentary tells the story of overcoming oppression to reclaim home and power, enabling future generations to thrive.

For more than a century, the Nisg̱a'a people of Northern British Columbia's Nass Valley fought to reclaim their land, their rights, and their voice, a long journey brought to life in Nations Rising – A Nisg̱a'a Story, which weaves the tale of history, culture, resilience, and modern self-determination into a living portrait of a nation rising anew.

Wikimedia Commons
Map of the Nisg̱a'a Nation's ancestral territory, stretching from the mouth of the K'alii Aksim Lisims to the Hazelton Mountains in northern British Columbia.

Long before modern boundaries were drawn, the Nass River valley of northwestern B.C. served as a gathering place for many Indigenous peoples, a basin of life where rivers, forests, and mountains sustained generations.

From this shared and sacred landscape, the ancestors of the Nisg̱a'a Nation built enduring communities, guided by ancestral law and deep ties to the land that remain at the heart of their identity today.

In time, however, alien interests began to encroach upon the natural order of the basin, carrying with them a different vision of land, law, and ownership.

Colonial governments, seeing only the resources and opportunity before them, began encroaching on the Nass Valley without negotiation or consent, undermining Indigenous relationships to the lands that had long shaped their governance and identity.

Where once the Nass River peoples stewarded a living basin, they were confined to shrinking reserves, their ceremonies outlawed, their kinship ties strained, and even the pursuit of justice silenced under a system designed to suppress Indigenous identity and governance.

Yet through the quiet endurance of memory and tradition, the Nisg̱a'a held fast to their obligations to the land even as colonial laws tightened their grip, with B.C.'s entry into Confederation in 1871 declaring vast stretches of Indigenous lands Crown property without negotiation, extinguishing title in direct contradiction to the Royal Proclamation of 1763.

"It is just and reasonable, and essential to our Interest, and the Security of our Colonies, that the several Nations or Tribes of Indians with whom We are connected, and who live under our Protection, should not be molested or disturbed in the Possession of such Parts of Our Dominions and Territories as, not having been ceded to or purchased by Us, are reserved to them," declared King George III in 1763.

"We do hereby strictly forbid, on Pain of our Displeasure, all our loving Subjects from making any Purchases or Settlements whatever, or taking Possession of any of the Lands above reserved, without our especial leave and Licence for that Purpose first obtained."

With no effective recourse left under the laws that once promised them protection, the Nisg̱a'a turned to their own leadership, uniting houses, villages, and clans in a cause that would span generations – a determined, lawful fight to reclaim their lands, their titles, and their voice.

The strength to fight

Though the Royal Proclamation had affirmed Indigenous title to land, its protections proved fragile in the face of colonial ambition.

By the time B.C. joined the Confederation, Crown oversight had weakened, leaving provincial leaders largely free to act without meaningful restraint. In the absence of enforceable authority, B.C.'s government moved quickly to dispossess First Nations of their lands, ignoring past promises and rejecting the legitimacy of Aboriginal title outright.

The introduction of the Indian Act in 1876 codified this systemic disenfranchisement into Canadian law.

Under its authority, Indigenous peoples were not only confined to small reserves but stripped of the ability to pursue land claims, organize politically, or practice key cultural ceremonies such as the potlatch – a traditional gift-giving feast central to the social and political life of many Indigenous nations on the Pacific Northwest Coast.

Royal BC Museum / BC Archives, E-07668
Chief Mountain, wearing a grizzly fur robe, in Gitlax̱t'aamiks, formerly known as New Aiyansh, circa 1912.

Far from protecting Indigenous rights, the Indian Act entrenched policies of assimilation and suppression that would endure for more than a century.

In response to the erasure of their rights and cultural practices, the Nisg̱a'a turned inward to the strength of their own leadership, choosing resilience over despair.

Drawing from the authority of their chiefs, elders, and matriarchs, they moved to assert their rights not through violence but through law and diplomacy – a course first embodied by Chief Mountain, a respected Nisg̱a'a leader chosen to carry their voice to Victoria in 1881 in a direct appeal for recognition of their land rights, only to be dismissed without recourse.

Undeterred, they returned five years later, this time joined by Tsimshian leaders. However, they were once again barred from entering the legislature.

Representing the colonial government's growing intransigence, Premier William Smithe – a leader who denied the existence of Aboriginal title and championed the dispossession of Indigenous lands – met the Nisg̱a'a and Tsimshian delegation not with respect, but with open contempt.

Mocking their appeals, Smithe derided the assembled leaders as having been "little better than wild beasts" before the arrival of settlers, a humiliation that deepened the Nisg̱a'a resolve to pursue justice through organized, lawful means.

Joseph Gosnell, Sr.

"Back in 1887, our ancestors pressing to settle the Nisg̱a'a land question climbed into their canoes and paddled down the coast of British Columbia to Victoria's inner harbor where on the steps of the parliament buildings they were sharply turned away by Premier Smithe. And like a handful of politicians today, Smithe refused to discuss the Nisg̱a'a land question, wrongly convinced that assimilation of Aboriginal people was inevitable. As a result of that decision, he plunged the province into 100 years of darkness for the Nisg̱a'a and other Aboriginal peoples," Nisga'a Treaty negotiator Joseph Gosnell, Sr. said in 1998.

Rather than falter in the face of racism, they adapted, and by 1890, the Nisg̱a'a Land Committee had formed – the first organized Indigenous political body in B.C. devoted to asserting that their connection to the Nass Valley had neither been extinguished nor surrendered.
The land question

By the early 20th century, the Nisg̱a'a and their neighboring First Nations faced a stark reality. Piecemeal petitions and scattered appeals had failed to move colonial authorities, and the mechanisms of Canadian law seemed only to tighten the barriers against Indigenous rights.

If they were to be heard, they would have to stand not as fragmented voices, but as one nation united.

Collier Azak

"If you think of the 1913 petition, where our hereditary leaders decided that we need to settle with the white men who came to our lands," said Collier Azak, former CEO of Nisg̱a'a Lisims Government, as recounted in Nations Rising – A Nisg̱a'a Story. "Our leadership all spoke with one voice, to pull together all of the tribes and our people, united in pursuing the land question."

The land question – as it came to be known – was not merely a matter of territory. It was a fight for the recognition of a people's existence, their governance, and their rightful place within their own ancestral homeland.

The first full expression of that fight came in 1913, when the Nisg̱a'a Land Committee presented the Nisg̱a'a Memorial to Parliament – a formal legal petition asserting that their title to the Nass Valley had never been surrendered.

Addressed originally to Prime Minister Sir Wilfrid Laurier, the memorial carefully laid out their historic occupation of the land, the injustices they had endured under colonial policies, and their demand for a treaty to recognize their rights.

Though ignored at the time, the 1913 petition became the foundation of a legal and political movement that would sustain the Nisg̱a'a struggle for land, recognition, and self-governance for nearly a century.

However, this new hope to reclaim their home was met with what appeared to be the final nail in the coffin.

In 1927, the Canadian government amended the Indian Act to make it illegal for Indigenous nations to raise funds for land claims – effectively cutting off the very means by which the Nisg̱a'a and others could seek justice.

Yet even as the path to justice was further stymied, the Nisg̱a'a cause endured, biding its time for the right moment to rise.

Robert McLeod

That opening came in 1969, when Frank Calder, a Nisg̱a'a leader, and the Nisg̱a'a Tribal Council brought their land claim to the Supreme Court of Canada.

"In 1949, the first Indigenous person ever elected to any legislative body in Canada was Frank Calder," Robert McLeod, CEO and director of Nations Royalty Corp. "Frank used to come up to Stewart. He used to hang out with my dad and work on strategies for lobbying federal and provincial government, for government services, for education, for health care, for transportation. My dad was a white man. Frank was Indigenous, working together as Northerners."

After years of legal battle, the court's decision in 1973 was split, but it marked the first time Canadian law acknowledged that Aboriginal title had existed long before colonization – a ruling that reshaped the national conversation on Indigenous rights.

Frank Calder

Even after the Calder case, progress remained slow. Negotiations stretched across decades, with governments reluctant to cede power or acknowledge historic wrongs. Yet the Nisg̱a'a, undeterred by delay or dismissal, remained resolute.

Finally, after generations of struggle, a breakthrough emerged. In 1998, the Nisg̱a'a Nation signed a final agreement with Canada and British Columbia, formally recognizing their land rights, governance, and the enduring truth of their connection to the Nass Valley.

Ratified into law in 2000, the treaty ended a century of darkness and opened a new era of self-determination.

Reflecting on the treaty negotiations he participated in, Azak recalled how, at the time, he was not sure if the treaty would actually succeed.

"I don't know if this is going to work at all," he said. "Well, 20 years later, the treaty is very much alive and it's moving forward."

"The initialing of the final agreement is a triumph for the Nisga'a people, the people of British Columbia, and indeed the people of Canada," said Gosnell during the ratification speech. "Today, we make history as we correct the mistakes of the past and send a signal of hope around the world. Today, let us talk about reconciliation and new understanding between cultures."

Gary Fiegehen, Courtesy of Nisga'a Lisims Government.
Nisg̱a'a chiefs and members of the treaty negotiating team outside the entrance to the parliament building in Ottawa.

Nations Royalty

Having reclaimed recognition of their ancestral lands, governance, and cultural identity through the landmark treaty, the Nisg̱a'a Nation turned toward securing lasting economic independence.

Guided by the vision of bridging traditional stewardship with contemporary economic opportunities, Nisg̱a'a leaders sought innovative ways to leverage the resource agreements forged with industry operating in their territory, establishing a pioneering model of Indigenous participation in Canada's capital markets.

Out of this vision emerged Nations Royalty, a groundbreaking venture born from a deep commitment to safeguarding Nisg̱a'a prosperity and autonomy for generations to come.

This vision was not born out of necessity alone, but from a longstanding tradition of resource stewardship that has defined the Nisg̱a'a Nation for millennia.

Long before European explorers arrived on the shores of the Nass River, the Nisg̱a'a were already skilled in metalworking, using copper, silver, and gold found in their territory to create symbols of wealth, dignity, and respect.

The copper shield – known as hayatskw – was a powerful symbol, both of cultural significance and of the Nisg̱a'a's inherent connection to the land.

Andrew Robinson

"It's quite unique because that's one of the most powerful pieces of symbolism that we have," Andrew Robinson, CEO of Nisga'a Lisims Government, said in Nations Rising – A Nisga'a Story.

The copper shields were not merely artifacts but held deep spiritual meaning, serving as gifts to symbolize respect and a welcoming invitation to their lands. It was a reminder that the Nisg̱a'a had long recognized the value of the earth's resources, understanding the metals beneath their feet long before Westerners arrived with their knowledge of mining.

"It was a symbol of stature, a symbol of dignity, a symbol of respect. And it symbolizes our nation," said Robinson. "We actually give it as a gift and call it a passport to come onto our lands."

This rich history of resource utilization shaped the Nisg̱a'a's approach to modern industry. By the late 20th century, as the Nisg̱a'a navigated the challenges of negotiating benefit agreements with the mining industry, they emerged not only as stewards of the land but as partners in resource development.

The 1980s marked another turning point, with the Nisg̱a'a challenging mining companies over environmental concerns and ensuring that their people were included in the economic benefits of the land they had long safeguarded.

Over time, this evolved into a positive and productive relationship with the industry, resulting in direct revenue payments and job opportunities for Nisg̱a'a citizens.

In establishing Nations Royalty, the Nisg̱a'a leaders sought to build on this legacy, transforming their mineral wealth into an asset that would empower their nation economically for generations.

By creating a publicly traded royalty company, Nations Royalty is not only securing a steady revenue stream but also solidifying the Nisg̱a'a's role as a major player in the global mining sector.

Through strategic partnerships and visionary leadership, Nations Royalty serves as both a modern economic engine and a testament to the Nisg̱a'a's enduring strength, resilience, and commitment to self-determination.

This article draws from historical records, public statements, and insights featured in Nations Rising – A Nisg̱a'a Story, a documentary offering an intimate portrayal of the hardships and triumphs of the Nisg̱a'a Nation.