Alaska, a land of vast wilderness, extreme climates, and rich natural resources, has long been a focal point in the national debate surrounding energy independence and environmental conservation. This debate often centers on the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR), a sprawling expanse of pristine wilderness that holds significant oil reserves beneath its surface. While national attention tends to focus on the economic and environmental impacts of drilling in ANWR, the voices and futures of the indigenous communities who call this region home are often overlooked. This article delves into the complex relationship between oil, the land, and the lives of two distinct Native Alaskan groups: the Inupiat of Kaktovik and the Gwich’in of Arctic Village. Their stories illustrate the deeply personal and often conflicting perspectives on oil development in Alaska.
The issue of drilling in ANWR has been a recurring point of contention in American politics, resurfacing with each shift in administration and energy policy. It gained renewed momentum when President George W. Bush, during his State of the Union address, called for an end to America’s "addiction to oil," a statement that reignited debate regarding drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. However, this national conversation often neglects the crucial perspectives of the Native Alaskan communities whose lives are most intimately intertwined with the fate of this land.
Kaktovik, a remote Inupiat village nestled on Barter Island at the edge of the Beaufort Sea, stands at the very doorstep of the oil-rich coastal plain of ANWR. Its approximately 280 residents have been waiting for over two decades to learn whether they will be granted the opportunity to extract oil from the land they own within the refuge. For the Inupiat of Kaktovik, oil represents a potential pathway to economic prosperity and a means of bolstering their community’s future.
In stark contrast, the Gwich’in, a caribou-hunting people numbering around 8,000, are scattered across 15 villages in both Canada and Alaska, residing along the southern border of the refuge. The Gwich’in view the coastal plain as the sacred calving grounds of the Porcupine caribou herd, a vital source of sustenance and the cornerstone of their traditional way of life. They fear that oil drilling in this area could disrupt the caribou migration, threatening their food security and cultural survival. The Gwich’in’s dependence on the Porcupine Caribou Herd places them squarely in opposition to drilling.
Sarah James, a respected elder from the Gwich’in community of Arctic Village, voiced her relief following a Senate vote that temporarily blocked drilling, but also expressed concern that this was only a temporary victory. The ongoing nature of the debate causes constant anxiety for the Gwich’in.
Both the Inupiat and Gwich’in actively engaged in lobbying efforts during a particularly intense debate in Congress. Leaders from Kaktovik penned a letter to Republican moderates, arguing that economic development was essential for the survival of their culture. Meanwhile, the Gwich’in organized a months-long vigil outside the National Museum of the American Indian in Washington, D.C., and circulated a report asserting that drilling would violate their human rights, drawing parallels to the historical decimation of the Plains buffalo and its devastating impact on Plains tribes.
Despite their divergent views on oil development, the Inupiat and Gwich’in share several common experiences. Both communities are located in remote regions, posing significant challenges to economic development. They both grapple with concerns about the potential impact of drilling on their native traditions and hunting practices. And, perhaps most importantly, they both feel frustrated that decisions with profound implications for their future are being made by lawmakers thousands of miles away, often without a full understanding of the complexities of life in the Arctic.
To gain a deeper understanding of the stakes involved for Alaska’s native peoples in the ongoing oil drilling debate, a visit was made to Kaktovik, Arctic Village, and Nuiqsut, an Inupiat town near Prudhoe Bay that embraced oil drilling years ago. These visits provided valuable insights into the diverse perspectives and potential consequences of oil development in the region.
Kaktovik: Embracing the Promise of Oil
Kaktovik’s proximity to the coastal plain of ANWR has made it a central figure in the oil drilling debate. Mayor Lon Sonsalla, a thoughtful and articulate leader, expressed his frustration with the perception that drilling would inevitably harm the environment. He questioned why he and other residents would support a plan that would destroy their home.
Sonsalla firmly believes that oil can be extracted responsibly, with minimal impact on the coastal plain, which serves as a crucial habitat for caribou, polar bears, musk oxen, and other Arctic species. He envisions oil revenue as a means of improving city services, creating jobs, and enhancing the overall quality of life for the community.
The Inupiat of Kaktovik have already experienced some of the benefits of oil development. Historically, they relied on subsistence hunting for survival. The arrival of the military in the 1940s, with the construction of an early-warning system, marked a shift, but it was the Alaskan oil boom of the 1970s that truly transformed their circumstances. Through negotiations with Congress, native leaders secured land claims and ensured that some of the oil wealth would benefit their communities. The establishment of 13 native corporations, including the Arctic Slope Regional Corporation (ASRC), which encompasses eight Inupiat villages, including Kaktovik, was a key outcome. Oil revenue distributed through the North Slope Borough has enabled Kaktovik to fund essential services such as police and fire departments, a health clinic, subsidized housing, and heating fuel. In 2003, running water and sewers were finally brought to Kaktovik, a testament to the transformative power of oil revenue.
However, drilling in the coastal plain could have an even more direct and substantial impact on Kaktovik. The ASRC owns the subsurface rights to 92,000 acres within the refuge, potentially generating significant revenue for the corporation and its shareholders. Town leaders also believe that Kaktovik could become a vital logistics hub for oil operations across the refuge, envisioning the construction of a larger airport to support these activities.
James Killbear, a skilled harpooner, exemplifies the hope that many in Kaktovik place in oil development. He sees drilling as an opportunity to secure stable employment and improve his economic prospects. The potential for new infrastructure, such as a new airport and roads, further fuels his optimism.
While Kaktovik is often portrayed as uniformly "pro-drilling," dissenting voices exist within the community. Robert Thompson circulated a petition opposing the opening of the refuge, gathering signatures from a significant portion of the town’s adult population. Mary Margaret Brower, an aide at the health clinic, is a staunch opponent of drilling, fearing that an oil boom could exacerbate social problems and public health issues. She points to the impact of drilling on air quality in parts of Prudhoe Bay as a cause for concern, warning that increased asthma and breathing problems could result from drilling activities near Kaktovik.
The debate over drilling has been further complicated by efforts to offer oil and gas leases in state waters off the coast. The Inupiat, as whale hunters, are vehemently opposed to offshore drilling, emphasizing the need to keep oil development onshore to minimize the risk of spills and environmental damage.
Arctic Village: Protecting the Caribou, Preserving a Way of Life
In contrast to the Inupiat of Kaktovik, the Gwich’in of Arctic Village have aligned themselves with the environmental movement in their opposition to oil drilling in ANWR. Located more than 90 miles from the coastal plain, on the other side of the Brooks Range, Arctic Village’s 150 residents believe they have a vital stake in the fate of the refuge. Their reliance on the Porcupine caribou herd, which migrates across northwestern Canada and Alaska to reach its calving grounds on the coastal plain, is central to their identity and way of life.
Jimi John, a respected hunter in Arctic Village, articulated the deep connection between the Gwich’in and the caribou, stating that "We’ve lived off the caribou since the time of our ancestors. If the caribou go, we go." Environmental groups have amplified the Gwich’in’s concerns about the caribou to bolster their broader arguments against drilling. The Wilderness Society has warned that drilling would "destroy not only this wilderness, but the culture of the indigenous people."
The Gwich’in have effectively leveraged the interest of environmentalists and the media, employing a public relations firm and inviting reporters to tribal gatherings. While the tribe has become a symbol of opposition to drilling, they are not your typical environmentalists. The Gwich’in continue to hunt and trap as their ancestors have for centuries.
While the tribe has become a symbol of opposition to drilling, the Gwich’in of a nearby village, Venetie, leased some of their land for oil drilling in the 1980s but never found a major deposit. Tribal leaders now say they regret the decision.
In the 1970s, residents of Arctic Village and Venetie decided not to sign on to the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act, forfeiting their share of $1 billion and future dividends in order to fight for their claims of 1.8 million acres of land.
Arctic Village faces significant economic challenges. Year-round jobs are scarce, and a substantial portion of the population lives below the poverty level. The town lacks running water and sewers, and residents rely on honey buckets or outhouses. A solar-powered washateria provides access to showers and laundry.
Despite these challenges, the Gwich’in believe they are proof that people can thrive without oil drilling or other resource-intensive development. Marion Swaney emphasized the importance of their traditional way of life, stating, "What good is a million-dollar checkbook when you’re out in the mountains? How will it help you survive? We may be poor, but we’re rich in animals."
The Swaneys exemplify the blending of modern and traditional worlds in Arctic Village. Charlie continues to hunt and fish, while their son Rocky enjoys internet access and satellite television. The community maintains a strong connection to its traditions while embracing aspects of modern life.
Nuiqsut: A Cautionary Tale of Oil Development
Nuiqsut, an Inupiat village near Prudhoe Bay, offers a cautionary tale for Kaktovik and Arctic Village. A decade ago, Nuiqsut embarked on its own experiment with oil drilling, with promises of economic prosperity and minimal environmental impact. However, the reality has often fallen short of expectations.
While dividend checks have been distributed, residents complain that the amounts are lower than promised. Few locals have secured jobs at the nearby Alpine oil field, and concerns are growing that drilling is driving caribou away from the area.
Johnny Ahtuangaruak, a 76-year-old elder, acknowledged that oil revenue has helped fund essential services. However, he also noted that oil development has reinforced existing social problems, such as alcoholism and drug abuse, without lifting the village out of poverty.
Nuiqsut, situated between Prudhoe Bay and the National Petroleum Reserve-Alaska, feels increasingly like an industrial zone. Proposed drilling sites and pipeline extensions encroach upon traditional hunting grounds, raising concerns about the future of subsistence hunting for younger generations.
The village was initially established in 1973 by families seeking to stake a claim on the North Slope. Over time, oil development has inched closer, with the Alpine oil field discovered in 1993. Promises of minimal environmental impact have been met with skepticism from some villagers, who report increased asthma rates and a yellowish fog hanging over the area during winter inversions.
Sarah Kunaknana, an 84-year-old resident, lamented the shift in caribou migration patterns, attributing it to the presence of pipelines. Supporters of drilling argue that some complaints are exaggerated, citing air monitoring programs that show no major air quality problems near the village.
Economic disappointment has been a major factor in Nuiqsut. Only a small number of residents work full-time at Alpine. The reasons for this are complex, including difficulties adjusting to industrial jobs and the persistence of social problems such as alcoholism and drug use.
Despite these challenges, some residents, like Takpaan Nukapigak, have found success in the oil industry. Her wages as an oil field roughneck have enabled her to support her family. However, the frequent complaint of villagers is that promises of larger dividends from oil revenues have never been fulfilled.
A Complex Equation
The stories of Kaktovik, Arctic Village, and Nuiqsut highlight the complex and often conflicting perspectives on oil development in Alaska. While some see oil as a pathway to economic prosperity and improved living conditions, others fear its potential impact on traditional ways of life and the environment. The debate over oil drilling in ANWR is not simply a matter of economics and energy policy; it is a deeply personal issue that touches upon the cultural identity, economic security, and environmental well-being of Alaska’s native peoples. Finding a balance that respects the diverse needs and perspectives of these communities is essential for ensuring a sustainable future for Alaska. The future of oil development impacts culture and survival in the villages. The relationship of oil and Alaska is one of ongoing debate and necessary navigation.