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The homicide rate in indigenous communities across the country is more than twice the national average. It is a statistic then the American representative Deb Haaland mentioned four years ago in a legislative hearing.
“While there are many programs and resources that can be used to combat violent crime in Indian Country, there is no overall plan or strategy to do so,” he said.
Before his appointment as the nation’s first Indigenous Cabinet secretary, Haaland, a citizen of Laguna Pueblo, was a crusading member of Congress, representing New Mexico.
“Most importantly, no real solution can be found without the voices of indigenous survivors,” said Haaland, “which is so special in this bill.”
The law established a commission to study where the departments of Justice and the Interior could do better. Both have a lot of influence on law enforcement in Alaska and Indian Country.
After being signed into law in 2020, Haaland said it Act not invisiblewould hold the federal government responsible for the excessive number of indigenous people who go missing or are murdered in the United States each year.
Haaland said it was essential for Alaska Natives and American Indians to help draft a comprehensive plan to focus federal resources to fight crime where they live. A year later, she was appointed Secretary of the Interior of the United States – head of one of the agencies that she had taken over.
It is a crisis that is also developing in remote communities, such as Aniak, in western Alaska. The small community of about 500 people lives nestled on the banks of the upper Kuskokwim River.
The Not Invisible Act Commission identified several reasons because indigenous people in places like Aniak experience high rates of violent crime. One is substance abuse.
In 2017, an intoxicated man shot his girlfriend and killed another man there with an AK-47.
“And not only the victim’s family, the whole community became victims,” ​​said Aniak Traditional Council Administrator Laura Simeon.
The commission also identified serious funding shortfalls for things like tribal courts, victim specialists and services to combat domestic violence. In many cases, crimes go unreported.
“We can’t reach out and ask people if they need help. They have to come and ask for help,” said Breanna Simeon. She works with victims of crime on behalf of the Aniak tribe.
The tribe has a makeshift domestic violence shelter, two rooms in a small house that served as tribal offices. Both are empty save for a few dead house flies littering the floor. It is a resource only available to members of the Aniak Tribe, who account for about half of the total population of Aniak.
The Not Invisible Act Commission says Indigenous communities face an “alarming shortage” of emergency shelters. And, he says, there are not enough police.
There was a local state-funded police officer nearby, but hiring an officer who is from the community is challenging and that position has not been filled since at least 2017. Simeon says things felt safer then.
“I think so,” he said. “My friend and I were going for a run late at night and I liked conditioning, getting in shape, and we were out of curfew and he made us run all the way home…”
Two state troopers work in Aniak, in two-week rotations. They also serve 15 other roadless communities spread over more than 200,000 square miles. They declined to be interviewed.
Laura Simeon said that people here do not rely on them. “And then maybe the trooper will show up the next day … or a couple of days later. He’s not in the place, when they’re most likely needed,” said Simeon.
There are similar problems in the Lower 48 – as in the Navajo Nation in the Desert Southwest – which covers the territory as the state of South Carolina.
“So, one of the big problems we face on the Nation is that we are in a manpower shortage when it comes to public safety,” said Eugenia Charles-Newton.
A Navajo Nation Council delegate, Charles-Newton, also chairs the Nation’s Law and Order Committee. She also said that there is not enough law enforcement and even if there was, the police alone will not reduce violent crime.
“So, it’s a combination of resources, it’s a combination of changing laws and a really big part of that is also that Congress has to understand that these things are happening here in Indian Country,” he said.
In November, the Not Invisible Act Commission presented its final report. It offers more than 300 recommendations for changes in the US Departments of Justice and Interior.
Both agencies missed the legal deadline to respond by more than a month.
“For me personally, we don’t want this commission report to sit on the shelf,” said Tami Jerue, an Alaska-based commissioner of the Not Invisible Act.
The departments of Response of Justice and the Interiordirectly only a fraction of the Commission’s recommendations. He noted that many require additional funding approved by Congress or changes to federal law.
“It seems like it’s a bit of a non-response and just because, you know, the need for action is the important aspect of this report,” said Jerue. He is among a number of Commissioners who have expressed disappointment in a process they say was rushed. Over eight months, the commission hosted several hearings in the camp, but the commissioners said the setting was not supportive enough for the natives who traveled long distances to offer often harrowing testimony about their experiences in their community
Indigenous people have held Deb Haaland in high esteem since she became the first Indigenous cabinet secretary, so many people hesitate to criticize her. But a number of commissioners say their confidence in their ability to stand up for indigenous needs is waning.
Secretary Haaland’s staff declined several interview requests. Justice Department staff also declined to comment.
Commissioner Tami Jerue is working on a counter-response for the agencies because she is eager to see action taken on the commission’s actions moving forward.
Emily Schwing