Potlatch Ban | Potlatch | Living Tradition, The Kwakwaka'wakw Potlatch on the Northwest Coast

Potlatch Ban

Impact of the Potlatch Ban on our People

Film: Barbara Cranmer

Photograph shows Kwakwaka’wakw speaker Vera Newman of the ‘Namgis First Nations standing in a forest setting.

"There was definitely a dark time for our people. And that's only in the 20s, the 1920s. They weren't allowed to practice their customs... Potlatch isn't just Indian dancing and singing... Potlatch is a way of life. So when they took that away from our people, it was breaking down a whole system. And it was a very difficult time for our people because they lived in fear."

Kwakwaka’wakw elder is seated on a high-back stuffed chair as she speaks to the camera.

"They used to sneak around to practice our culture, that is why some of our people never forgot our ways. For years nothing happened here in Alert Bay because people were terrified because they might get put in jail."

Image shows Chief Bill Cranmer of ‘Namgis First Nation speaking in a forest setting, wearing a jacket decorated with Kwakwaka’wakw imagery.

"People were arrested for handing out gifts, for making speeches, and for dancing... or anything to do, helping, in the potlatch. Part of the agreement by the ‘Namgis and some other tribes, was to give up their masks and other things they used at a potlatch so that their members wouldn't be sent to jail."

Photograph shows Kwakwaka’wakw elder Vera Newman of the ‘Namgis First Nations speaking in a forest setting.

"When they were brought to Oakalla Prison in 1922, was humiliating and degrading for our people. Granny talks about the only reason she wasn't sent to jail was because my mum was six months old, but her older sister went to jail. And when she got down there, they stripped them and hosed them down, like there was something wrong with them. They didn't treat our people very good."

Kwaxalanukwame’ ‘Namugwis, Chief William T. Cranmer

Son of Pal’nakwala Wakas, Chief Dan Cranmer who hosted the 1921 potlatch that led to forced surrender of 100s of pieces of potlatch regalia and arrest of 45 people (of the 45 people charged, 22 received suspended sentences, 3 were remanded for appeal and 20 were sent to Oakalla Prison near Vancouver).

Kwaxalanukwame', Odan, Chief Johnny Drabble

“And my uncle took me to the Parish Hall, where the Chiefs were gathered. Odan picked up a rattle and spoke, ‘We have come to say goodbye to our life,’ then he began to sing his sacred song. All of the Chiefs, standing in a circle around their regalia were weeping, as if someone had died.” (James Charles King, at Alert Bay, 1977)

Photo: William Halliday, Royal BC Museum, PN 12195

Indian agent William Halliday

Indian Agent Halliday's official responsibility was for the welfare of the Kwakwaka'wakw. He also functioned as the regional magistrate so, ironically, he was involved in prosecuting the people whose rights he was supposed to be protecting. Over 600 potlatch-related pieces were given up and in his own statement, Halliday said that he had accumulated over 300 cubic feet of potlatch material. Their owners estimated the coppers in 1921 to have had a total value of over $35,000. However, the Canadian Department of Indian Affairs paid only a token amount of $1,485 for the masks and other materials, and no compensation was ever paid for the coppers.

Photo: Royal BC Museum

Surrendered regalia, Alert Bay Parish Hall, 1922

The confiscated masks and other goods were transported out in the open by boat and then were put on exhibition on benches in the Parish Hall of the Anglican Church at Alert Bay. It was particularly difficult for the Kwakwaka'wakw to endure the display of the materials openly in the boat because these items were sacred and were considered to be treasures. Strict tradition required that they be stored away in cedar boxes out of sight when not in use.

Photo: Vivien Lord, Royal BC Museum, PN 12209

The Start of the Potlatch Ban

In the late 1800s, the Canadian government felt First Nations’ traditions were keeping Native people from becoming “civilized.” The government saw Native culture as a threat and enacted a law to shut down the ceremonial potlatch. The anti-potlatch proclamation was issued in 1883; it became law January 1, 1885. It read:

“EVERY INDIAN OR OTHER PERSON WHO ENGAGES IN OR ASSISTS IN CELEBRATING THE INDIAN FESTIVAL KNOWN AS THE ‘POTLATCH’ OR IN THE INDIAN DANCE ‘TAMANANAWAS’ IS GUILTY OF A MISDEMEANOR, AND SHALL BE LIABLE TO IMPRISONMENT...”

Impact of the Potlatch Ban

For more than sixty years the ceremonial potlatch was outlawed. During that time many Native people were arrested; for some, the charge was dancing. Still, potlatches continued—but in secret. Barb Cranmer is Kwakwaka'wakw and a member of the ‘Namgis Nation. The Cranmer family has kept the potlatch traditions alive for generations, in spite of the law. At Christmas time, 1921, Barb’s grandfather, Dan Cranmer, held the largest potlatch recorded on the north-west coast of British Columbia. This potlatch is best known for the fact that forty-five people were arrested, and the participants were given a choice of either surrendering their potlatch regalia— to prevent them from having future potlatches—or going to jail. Twenty-two people went to jail.

The potlatch and all that it included—the songs, dances, masks, blankets, speeches—were the things that defined the Kwakwaka'wakw. “It was a dark time for our people,” says Barb. “There was a great sense of confusion. People were wondering why this was happening when this was how we had lived, historically, forever and ever.”

“The non-Native society tried to change us and our culture. They viewed [the potlatch] as a bad thing,” says Barb. “They didn’t understand that it was part of how all things are interconnected and that it was a way of showing how we gave thanks.”

Dan Cranmer saw it as his responsibility to keep the traditions strong regardless of the law. “I believe he was a visionary,” says Barb. “He realized what we would need to know sixty years down the road and helped to preserve our songs and those things we’d need to carry on the potlatch.”

The End of the Potlatch Ban

In 1951 the potlatch law was dropped from Canada’s books. “Even though the ban was lifted in the ’50s, it still took years for people to get over that. It took people a long time to feel comfortable about standing up and saying, ‘This is who we are,’ and to feel good about being ‘Namgis,” Barb explains. “It wasn’t until the 1970s that [the potlatch] started to become a normal part of our lives once again, with the idea that we could potlatch without repercussions or imprisonment.”

Many Kwakwaka'wakw families have revived their ways. “Our culture is a living culture,” Barb stresses. “Recently, a relative of mine held a potlatch and he went back to the early teachings of our people. In that particular family they hadn’t had a potlatch in more than eighty years. He worked hard and learned the songs and all. Well, there was something there, there was spirit in that Bighouse and it was really powerful, it was something else.” Through the potlatch, he asserted his rights as a chief, restored his family’s traditional status in the community, and helped reinvigorate an important cultural practice. “He took a chief’s standing for his family and what belonged to them,” says Barb. “We are reclaiming the things that were lost and it is with the strength of the family that we can be hopeful people. Our connection to the past is unbroken.”

Next: Our Masks Come Home