The fight to be heard: 50 years of the James Bay and Northern Quebec Agreement

This is part one of a three-part series from Radio-Canada about the 50th anniversary of the James Bay and Northern Quebec Agreement. 

In April 1971, four years before signing the James Bay and Northern Quebec Agreement (JBNQA), Quebec’s premier Robert Bourassa unveiled his “project of the century” — a plan to harness the huge hydroelectric potential of the province’s northern region as a means to both boost the economy and keep up with growing demand. 

The project proposed building 11 hydroelectric dams, including eight on the La Grande river, which stretches from the heart of the province all the way to James Bay, 900 kilometres to the west. 

Three other rivers, the Eastmain, Opinaca, and Caniapiscau, would be diverted to fill massive man-made reservoirs, which would submerge 11,500 square-kilometres of forest underwater — about 30 times the size of the Island of Montreal. 

The scale of the project is unparalleled in the province’s history, and would take 40 years to complete. Today, it generates 17,000 megawatts of power — half of Quebec's current production.

Thousands of workers were needed to make that happen. From engineers to cooks, the equivalent of a small village was sent to a remote worksite more than a thousand kilometres away from Montreal as the crow flies. While crews were preparing to build an access road, a crucial step had been overlooked: the province hadn’t consulted with Cree and Inuit communities, whose territory was about to be forever changed by a development project of unprecedented size.

Charlie Watt sits with a cup of tea in hand as he stares out the window at the Koksoak River, which flows into Ungava Bay, 50 kilometres to the north. It’s July in Kuujjuaq and the wildflowers have only just begun to bloom — a sign that salmon have returned, according to the longtime Inuit political leader. 

As has been a lifelong tradition, soon he’ll head down to the river and retrieve his nets, and hopefully a few fish.

Today, though, the river is much lower than when Watt was growing up, a vestige of it being diverted to feed the James Bay dams, and ultimately, half of the province's electrical outlets. Nostalgia takes over as he remembers a time he could easily go caribou hunting upriver. But it’s so low now that very few people venture out that way by boat, due to the risk of hitting a shoal and breaking their motor. 

Watt also clearly recalls when he’d first noticed the Quebec government’s interest in developing the region and its rivers. 

“Prospectors had been around here for quite a number of years, identifying rivers and so on, what potential they have,” he said. “We knew sooner or later this was coming.” 

With no community consultation, Watt says he only learned about Bourassa’s “project of the century” by coincidence during a visit to the post office. While waiting around, he scanned the bulletin board and saw a notice about the premier “wanting to develop the economy of the North for the purpose of bringing the electricity down south.” 

He said he and many others were shocked to learn about the project and felt it would threaten their traditional way of life. 

“Block it, stall it somehow. That’s the response I got,” said Watt.