Tobacco compacts and the manifestation of destiny

I once met a Seneca Cayuga chief who had served in the Navy and decorated his forearms with tattoos. Being a product of veterans, we seemed to click. So much so he allowed me to tour the tribe’s cigarette factory in their jurisdiction. We drove the oddly forested foothills of the Ozark Mountains and talked about things that normally don’t come up in interviews. He looked at me and said, “I think you were meant to be here for a reason.”  That phrase has stayed with me.

I am always eager to see the manifestation of Destiny (not Manifest Destiny) in life. I tend to ask people whether they believe in fate or self destiny, the elusive twins in our lives. These two are like specters that one cannot always see but one that you can see wisps of out of the corner of the eyes (usually in attics or cellars). Women mostly say its fate directing us while men lean toward steering their own destiny.

In Oklahoma, we are in the neighborhood of renegotiating the tribal tobacco compacts with the state. The legacy of tobacco with Indians here is curiously neither fate or self destiny. The Sooner state has had its fair share of tobacco treason, raids, indictments and the like.

It used to be that love scenes in movies were often signaled by both parties in bed smoking a cigarette. Now that cozy scene could be a bygone as the old state-tribal tobacco compacts expire. In various forms of correspondence, Gov. Mary Fallin urges tribal leaders to come on down and make a deal because tobacco compacts are “significant opportunities for our two governments to work together for the betterment of all Oklahoma.”

One must read between the lines here before signing on the dotted line. The tribes and Oklahoma have always had varying ideas of what was for the betterment of the Native constituency. This started way before statehood and continued through all seven land runs. I don’t believe a consensus has been reached to date.

Before gaming, tribes have always tended to go along with the status quo because they didn’t have the means to say otherwise.  Much of that has changed. Now we are looking at the fields of harvest with different eyes.  About 3.2 billion amber waves of grain that are growing each year, according to gaming revenue estimates.

Maybe the best solution all around would be to strike tobacco peddling from our midst altogether. Even now, some tribes expound the health benefits of quitting whilst they continue a healthy tobacco trade.  According to the Oklahoma Tobacco Research Center, American Indians have the highest smoking rates of all ethnic groups, hitting between 40 to 50 percent which makes it the number one cause of preventable death (in a clinch with diabetes, I bet).

Yet, gambling and tobacco are the unlikely vessels of our sovereign fortitude. In other words, it’s what the Great Father in Washington has given tribes and while we have it, we will work it. Traditional tobacco use is not included in this parable.

Tribal leaders will soon be pressured to accept state terms in the upcoming tobacco compact negotiations (excluding Muscogee (Creek) Nation) tiptoeing over implications of jurisdictional encroachment.  The state, it seems, is pushing its hand in an effort to bridge federal funding shortfalls.

Here, a new system of rebates will be negotiated by each tribe with the state. The type and size of the rebate will largely be determined by how much tobacco is sold and what kind of services is supported by that tribe’s tobacco revenue. In other words, the more tobacco a tribe sells and the more they do with it, the more favorable their tobacco compact terms will be.

Math is not my strongest suit. But for smaller tribes, the ones that don’t have a rash of smoke shops, a smaller volume of cigarette trade may make things a tad unequal in these new negotiations. Funny, but I was under the impression that sovereignty was not quantified by size.

Yes, it’s tobacco compact negotiating time in OK. The whole process is sure to be a premonition of  upcoming Class III gaming compacts in a few years. Talk about destiny.



S.E. Ruckman is a citizen of the Wichita and Affiliated Tribes in Anadarko, Okla. She graduated from the University of Oklahoma’s School of Journalism and has written for the Tulsa World and is currently a special contributor to the Native American Times. She is a freelance writer who is based in Oklahoma.