Recently, the Assembly of First Nations compiled a book called DRUMBEAT.
The following is a book review taken from the Calgary Herald.

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                     DRUMBEAT DEFINES NATIVE VISION
                 Call to Justice impossible to overlook
                           by Richard Therrien

Drumbeat is a forthright, precise declaration of the Assembly of First
Nations' position regarding the occupation of their traditional lands,
which they have neither sold, ceded, nor lost in war.

It is a clearly defined vision of the country they want "to live in and
to build in collaboration with other Canadians."

It is also a very disturbing history, seldom told, with a wealth of
information for anyone who wants to know the whole story of native
rights and treaty negotiations in this country. It is impossible to read
this book without wondering why this information hasn't been readily
available before now.

The reader can only be thankful that DRUMBEAT came out before the recent
federal budget cuts which sent a resounding and, some native leaders
believe, deliberate blow to the communications systems of the native
peoples.

If these particular budget cuts, which will affect the publishers of
this book, were a conscious attempt to cut off the lines of
communication within the self-determining Indian communities, DRUMBEAT
could very well be one of the reasons; it's logic, clarity and
historical accuracy constitute a call to justice impossible to ignore,
and most difficult for any government to answer

By taking specific case histories of eight different confrontations now
before the courts or in negotiation with the federal government, and
following their histories back to the European invasion, the authors
provide us with a comprehensive background to what, for many of us, are
fleeting media events usually witnessed out of context - such as the
Lubicon blockade in Northern Alberta and the "smuggling" raids on the
Akwesasne of Ontario.

The individual chapters are written by tribal spokesmen and in every
case the style is understated but thorough, the voice calm; the facts
speak for themselves.

THe historical perspective, illuminating in itself, also sheds a great
deal of light on the new battlefield - the courtroom.
Having turned to the law courts in the latter part of this century,
native communities have come up against every stalling device imaginable
(some claims are tied up in the courts for 10 to 15 years).

In his chapter on the Lubicon claim, Boyce Richardson gives a
provocative example of the interrelatedness of the legal, economical and
environmental aspects of native rights as they concern the country as a
whole.
At a time when every thinking Canadian is concerned about the greenhouse
effect and even schoolchildren understand the role of trees in
stabilizing carbon dioxide, the Alberta government in seeking ways to
develop a sustainable forest economy, spurns the input of the longest
continuous inhabitants of the northern forests and decides to give away
fully one third of its boreal forests to pulp makers - 30,000 sq.km. of
it, mostly on Lubicon land, to Daishawa, a Japanese company.
While the Lubicons were seeking compensation for the destruction of
their hunting economy by government-licensed oil companies, Richardson
explains, "the Japanese company was granted $65 million in subsidy by
the province, and $9.5 by the federal government, the same government
that said it could not afford to pay reasonable compensation for the
losses the Lubicons had suffered" over many decades.

It is worth noting as well that the native approach to resource
management is not some romantic back-to-the-land rhetoric.
Throughout the book, and in particular the chapter on the Anishnabai of
Northern Ontario, there are some of the clearest most realistic
definitions of stewardship and sustainable development available in
present environmental literature.

But the real issue, of course, is more than legal or ideological; while
we watch the last stand of the Lubicon on television and listen to the
politicians pursuing their agendas, Bernard Ominayak's people are
suffering from malnutrition and social upheaval, and dying from
tuberculosis. The blending of the human, historical, and ideological is
what gives this book its strength. It is, without being sentimental, a
plea for compassion.

As N.J. Sterritt, past president of the Gitksan-Wet'suet'en Tribal
Council says in the last chapter, 

         "If the history of the last two hundred years is any
         indication, we will continue to have a struggle. 
         But if the history of the last ten thousand years is
         considered, then bet on those whose weapons include honesty,
         integrity, patience, and determination."

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DRUMBEAT: Anger and Renewal in Indian Country,
edited by Boyce Richardson, (Assembly of First Nations, Summerhill
Press, 302 pages, $14.95).