Repeal of Mille Lacs walleye agreement another wedge on resource management

On the day Gov. Mark Dayton dishonored Minnesota's 2016 Mille Lacs walleye agreement, he cushioned his announcement by saying he had "contacted tribal leaders to ask for their understanding and forbearance."

But behind the scenes in Indian country, there was unilateral rejection and anger. How could a modern-day governor, they demanded, purposely break a deal embodied in a court ruling affirmed by the U.S. Supreme Court?

Now, two months later, ramifications of the broken trust are still playing out as tribal and state fisheries managers assess the lake's walleye population, decide whether there will be an ice fishing season and attempt to scratch out a new allocation agreement for 2017.

Moreover, the episode has worsened long-standing frayed relations around Mille Lacs. Observers say the new friction doesn't bode well at a time when shared natural resources — including moose, wild rice, clean water and wilderness lands — are growing evermore scarce.

"There's certainly less trust now than there was before," Minnesota Department of Natural Resources (DNR) Commissioner Tom Landwehr said. "Our ability to continue to work together relies on our ability to trust each other."

Landwehr said he shared equally in the decision Aug. 9 that kept Mille Lacs catch-and-release walleye fishing open despite the state's 2016 quota being far exceeded. It was more important for the state to help the local economy, the two men decided, than to abide by the shared walleye agreement. The annual pact is protocol under a co-management system ordered by the federal courts in 1997 to uphold sovereign hunting and fishing rights of eight Chippewa bands in Minnesota and Wisconsin.

American Indian scholar Brenda Child, professor and chairwoman of the Department of American Studies at the University of Minnesota, said she was "appalled" by the purposeful breach of the walleye agreement.

"States have often encroached on tribal sovereignty, but generally states respect the decisions of the federal government and the U.S. Supreme Court," Child said. "Not to abide by them is highly unusual."

According to documents obtained by the Star Tribune under the Minnesota Government Data Practices Act, seven of the eight Indian tribes quickly admonished Dayton in letters. The Indian leaders pleaded for him to rescind his decision and shamed him for putting short-term economic interests ahead of long-term health of the "ogaa," the Ojibwe word for walleye.

"The bands' good faith reliance upon the state's own biological recommendations and its undisputed legal obligations has been rewarded with bad faith and disrespect," Mille Lacs Band of Ojibwe Chief Executive Melanie Benjamin wrote Aug. 12 to Dayton and Lt. Gov. Tina Smith.

A separate letter jointly penned by leaders of six Chippewa bands based in Wisconsin said their citizens took fewer Mille Lacs walleyes than they were allowed in 2016 to help sustain the fishery. "In contrast, the state has broken its word not only to us and our communities, but to the federal court," the bands wrote. "This is unconscionable."

Also behind the scenes, the only tribal representative on the Mille Lacs Fisheries Advisory Committee resigned last month citing interference by the citizens' committee in "binding" agreements on walleye management. Jamie Edwards, director of government relations for the Mille Lacs band, wrote a resignation letter to Dayton that accused the committee of being non-diverse, anti-science and anti-treaty rights. He declined an interview request last week when remaining members of the Mille Lacs advisory group rebutted his criticism.

Landwehr said Edwards added value to the committee and that he was disappointed with his resignation. No decision has been made on a replacement.

Benjamin said in an interview that she's not holding any grudges and has no plans to litigate. But she said the issue is "very emotional" and that Dayton will have to answer for his decision in many interactions he has with Indians.

"If you are an American Indian person you experience a lot of these kinds of actions," Benjamin said. "This is a huge one, and hopefully there won't be any more."

Benjamin said Indians weren't consulted as Dayton and Landwehr decided whether to uphold or break the 2016 "safe harvest" agreement that allocated 28,600 pounds of walleyes to the state. Dayton and Landwehr ultimately closed the Mille Lacs walleye season Sept. 6, after Labor Day. By then, summer tourism was over and anglers had exceeded the state quota by 67 percent (47,735 pounds total). Separately, the tribes underfished their quota by 32 percent for a total of 7,808 pounds.

Benjamin confirmed that Dayton called her shortly before announcing he would not close the walleye season. But she gave no forbearance.

"In our discussion I told him to stick to the agreement," she said.

She said the Mille Lacs band and its elders "knew they were overfishing the lake."

But Landwehr stressed that he and Dayton wouldn't have allowed fishing to continue through August without assurances from DNR fisheries managers that the lake's walleye population could handle it. The biggest thrust in walleye management on Mille Lacs has been to safeguard a mammoth class of walleyes born in 2013, and DNR staff concluded in early August that the future spawning stock was soundly protected.

With that in mind, Don Pereira, DNR fisheries chief, said Dayton and Landwehr showed good leadership in allowing catch-and-release fishing to continue.

"As managers of the resource, worst-case would be if there's a significant conservation risk and a political decision makes it worse," Pereira said. "That wasn't the case here."

Pereira said he and his staff were transparent with their Indian cohorts on the reasoning behind overallotment. But the bands were critical of the state's position, he said. The state is now in the position of proving to the bands that the overharvest didn't damage the fishery, he said.

There's no indication of a problem, Pereira said, but it's too early to predict decisions about ice fishing.

"I don't know how it will all shake out," he said.

Frank Bibeau, an attorney for the Leech Lake Band of Ojibwe who has clashed with the state over wild rice and other treaty rights, said state government doesn't treat Indians as peers.

He and Benjamin both said that if band members overharvested walleyes, they'd likely be arrested.

"They have the guns and the badges and the jails," Bibeau said.