There are Indigenous fishers, and there are non-Indigenous fishers — and every year, the federal government takes more and more away from one to give to the other, citing reconciliation and an ever-expanding notion of Indigenous rights.
Up until last week, the 2025 edition of this game of racial redistribution involved the Liberal government planning to take away between 75 and 90 per cent of the commercial American eel quota and giving 50 per cent to First Nations in Atlantic Canada, with another 27 per cent going to employees of those who already have eel licences. Eel fishers were only saved by a last-minute cancellation of the changes on Thursday, when Fisheries Minister Diane Lebouthillier came to her senses and called it off.
It was an instance of drastic favouritism: in the Maritimes, the Indigenous population is between 2.2 and 5.5 per cent, depending on the province, while in Newfoundland, it’s 9.3 per cent. The government previously defended its plans for identity-based redistribution as a moral move, with lucrative eel prices providing “a unique opportunity to advance reconciliation by reducing the longstanding socioeconomic gaps between Indigenous and non-Indigenous communities.”
Aside from reconciliation-driven quota transfers like the cancelled eel quota redistribution of 2025, the feds are often motivated by a desire to honour the treaty right held by the region’s Indigenous groups to earn a “moderate livelihood,” as the Supreme Court of Canada set out in the 1999 case of R. v. Marshall. The feds have never been clear or consistent about setting limits on that right, though. One known rule is that Indigenous fishers exercising their “moderate livelihood” take priority over commercial fishers, and are second only to conservation needs, but the border between self-sufficiency and commercial enterprise has always been fuzzy.
So when Indigenous groups exercise that right — which often seems to come without limits — their harvest cuts into the allowable catch for commercial fisheries. Prior to its cancellation, the federal eel licence redistribution announcement devastated eel fishers big and small. Eel fishers Tien and Anh Nguyen believed they wouldn’t be able to keep anywhere near as many staff, with three-quarters of their allotted catch slated for government redistribution. They weren’t going to be compensated for their loss, either.
Meanwhile, budding eel farming company NovaEel — which, if it succeeds, will be the first of its kind in Canada — now has rocky prospects. The eel suppliers it had lined up to get its farming operation off the ground were poised to have most of their quota taken away, which would mean that NovaEel wouldn’t be able to get up and running. Even now that the quota redistribution has been cancelled, the government has signalled that it can kill this kind of business at a moment’s notice, which is toxic to investment.
Plenty more of these identity-based initiatives in fishing have gone though, however. In 2025, $259.5 million in handouts are planned to support commercial Atlantic First Nations fishing businesses. These funds will be used on everything from licences, boats and gear to corporate governance; licences acquired under the deal can be leased back to non-Indigenous fishermen. Note that on the East Coast, the feds have spent more than $1 billion buying fishing licenses and equipment for First Nations over the years.
So, while the feds obliterate non-Indigenous businesses without compensation, they’ve been pumping millions into the Indigenous side.
Indeed, in 2021, commercial crab fishers in one fishing zone of British Columbia had half of their trapping allocation taken by the government and redistributed to Indigenous people to assist them in earning a “moderate livelihood.”
On the losing side of the reallocation were Jason Voong, a second-generation crab harvester whose family came here to fish crab after fleeing the Vietnam war, and Jeff and Cameron Edwards, whose family fishing business had been in the area for 32 years. “As a commercial fisherman, I feel like I don’t exist in the eyes of the government,” Jeff Edwards told the Tofino-Ucluelet Westerly News. No one, of course, was compensated by the government.
As for lobster, the fishery is in absolute chaos due in part to federal cowardice. In southeast Nova Scotia, leaders of the Sipekne’katik First Nation set up a large out-of-season fishery in 2020, which they claim is an exercise of their Aboriginal right to earn a moderate livelihood from the land. The feds attempted to put a cap on their catch, but this was rejected by the First Nation, which continued to take lobster from the sea. That alone should raise questions about the legality of their actions.
You might be able to guess what happened to the lobster population in that area since. Commercial fishers have reported that lobster stocks are depleted due to over-harvesting. Meanwhile, say the RCMP, an organized crime group has been profiting from illegally harvested lobster, reaping profits and terrorizing locals.
Still, instead of putting its foot down and finding a resolution, the Department of Fisheries and Oceans largely watched from the sidelines, enforcing violations here and there but refusing to approve a tentative agreement between the Indigenous and non-Indigenous fishers that could have resolved the matter in 2022.
Instead, the problem of legally grey Indigenous fisheries spread: a Mi’kmaw group on Prince Edward Island followed their Nova Scotian counterparts and set up another “moderate livelihood” fishery; now, the group’s leader is asking for the government to provide them with commercial licences as well. And why not? The feds have proven to be generous so far.
The civil discord that comes from having parallel, competing, identity-based fisheries hasn’t been good. Prince Edward Island has noticed an uptick in gear tampering — such as cutting traps loose from lines — while Nova Scotia and New Brunswick have seen everything from vigilante trap removal to violence and sabotage. Buildings have been torched, and men who refuse to buy unlicensed catch have had their homes shot at. Non-Indigenous fishermen have removed traps from the water, while Indigenous fishermen have set up blockades to defend their wharf.
It’s not good. The Liberals, keen on neutering Canada’s resource sector, have done what they can to neglect their duty to provide a fair and prosperous playing field. On the coasts, this involves pitting subsets of the population against each other in the absence of clear rules.
They’ve turned the fishing industry into a ridiculous game of racial tug-of-war, which is corrosive to good community relations on the coast — and to the health of the Canadian fishing industry in general.
National Post