Under the muted winter sun, Germaine White, an enrolled member of the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes (CSKT), reflected on the Jocko River’s gentle flow through the shadow of Montana’s Mission Mountains. Once, this river, known as ’nisisutetk’ ’ntx’e in the Séliš-Ql̓ispé language, teemed with bull trout, and its abundant cold-water tributaries sustained the land each spring. "We live at the backbone of the world, where the water begins," White stated, contrasting the scientific term "resource" with the tribal understanding of water as "the source." The Jocko River holds profound significance for the CSKT, yet over the past century, its watershed became detached from its floodplain, altered and channelized by the advent of agriculture on the Flathead Indian Reservation. However, following a decade of negotiations, a landmark tribal settlement, the 2015 Confederated Salish and Kootenai-Montana Compact Water Rights Compact, has paved the way for the river’s recovery. This compact, effective since 2021, revalidates tribal water rights guaranteed by the 1855 Hellgate Treaty while simultaneously safeguarding existing water users through a collaborative state-tribal water management system. The synergy of Indigenous-led restoration, shared governance, and targeted funding offers a promising path for the tribe to reclaim its rivers and the integral lifeways connected to them.

The ancestral lands of the Selis, Ksanka, and Qlispe tribes encompassed 22 million acres across western Montana, extending into Canada, Idaho, and Wyoming. These three tribes coexisted within a rich ecological tapestry, boasting over 980 miles of rivers and streams, a natural abundance that led Salish elder Mitch Smallsalmon to famously describe his people as "wealthy from the water." This wealth, however, diminished with the signing of the 1855 Hellgate Treaty. Further fragmentation of tribal lands occurred with the 1887 Dawes Act, enacted with the intention of assimilating Indigenous peoples into settler society, which opened parcels of the CSKT reservation to homesteaders. Although the reservation represented only a fraction of the tribe’s original homeland, the act created a mosaic of private and tribal landholdings, and many indigenous place names were supplanted by those of settlers. "Place names are so profoundly important; they’re the oldest words in our language," White emphasized, noting that these names originated from creation stories and the very formation of the land, but the dramatic alteration of the landscape has rendered many of them unrecognizable.

Central to water rights in the American West is the legal doctrine of "prior appropriation," commonly known as "first in time, first in right." This principle asserts that the first entity to claim water and apply it to a "beneficial use" holds superior rights over subsequent users. During the era of Westward expansion, settlers often operated under the assumption of water’s infinite supply, granting water rights liberally and consuming water with little regard for conservation. This commodification of water, however, led to a profound disconnection between Indigenous tribes and their traditional lifeways. Sadie Peone-Stops, a CSKT member and director of the Séliš-Ql̓ispé Culture Committee, articulated this perspective: "We look at the waterways – the veins of our Mother Earth – as a way of life. Water gives all life. If people can understand that, they can understand what wealth means to the tribe."

Throughout the 20th century, tribal rights, including those pertaining to fishing and hunting, frequently clashed with the prior appropriation rights granted to white settlers on the reservation, creating a complex web of conflicting claims. Stakeholders often resorted to litigation to solidify their water rights before others could establish precedence. Recognizing the necessity of a comprehensive system to adjudicate all outstanding water rights, the Montana Legislature established the Montana Water Court. This specialized judicial branch is responsible for untangling over 219,000 water rights claims filed in Montana prior to 1973. Through a unified system and a rigorous adjudication process, the court works to determine water rights across every river basin in the state, including reviewing and ruling on objections to negotiated compacts with the state’s tribes and federal agencies. Colorado and Idaho are the only other Western states with similar water court systems.

Approximately three decades ago, a series of legal actions initiated on behalf of the CSKT by the federal government ignited the tribe’s pursuit of quantifiable water rights, ultimately leading to the current Water Compact. The CSKT-MT Compact formally quantified the tribes’ reserved and aboriginal water rights, acknowledging their existing cultural and religious uses while also protecting other established water rights, irrespective of their legal basis in state or federal law. By the time the compact was finalized, over a century of industrial activity had left indelible marks on the region’s watersheds. Montana’s history of mining and milling had polluted rivers, while development fragmented watersheds and depleted aquifers. The Water Court’s final decree is still pending, but the compact unequivocally recognizes the tribes’ reserved and aboriginal water rights and their existing tribal cultural and religious uses. It also safeguards tribal instream flows, existing uses, and historical deliveries to irrigators. The compact’s co-management plan integrates both Western scientific methodologies and Indigenous traditional knowledge to facilitate the recovery and strategic management of waterways.

The implementation phase of the compact is largely overseen by the CSKT’s Division of Engineering and Water Resources, which expanded its capacity in 2020 to address the compact’s requirements. Over a dozen distinct activities have been outlined to reauthorize tribal water rights while ensuring the fulfillment of reservation water needs provided by the Flathead Indian Irrigation Project (FIIP). The FIIP, constructed in 1908 as part of the Dawes Act, was intended to deliver water across the reservation for agricultural purposes. The project encompasses more than 1,000 miles of canals, irrigates nearly 130,000 acres, and relies on 14 major reservoirs that feed its extensive network of channels. "The FIIP was ostensibly for the benefit of the Indian," explained Casey Ryan, a tribal member and manager of the tribe’s Natural Resource Department’s Division of Engineering and Water Resources, highlighting the complex historical context. "There were so many changes that our tribe was trying to navigate… and despite all that, we were highly successful at incorporating agriculture."

Despite its initial intentions, the FIIP significantly altered the Mission Valley watersheds, and its aging infrastructure revealed considerable inefficiencies over time. Consequently, federal legislation stemming from the compact prioritized the rehabilitation of the FIIP’s infrastructure and the remediation of the environmental damage it caused. The 20th-century emphasis on "beneficial use" of water often led to any water remaining in FIIP’s irrigation canals being considered "waste." The Jocko River, the second-largest river on the reservation, suffered severe degradation, confined to a unnaturally straight channel and disconnected from its natural meanders, floodplain, and side channels that once supported a vibrant ecosystem. According to Ryan, water surveys dating back to the 1930s indicated that the FIIP was a deficit irrigation project, meaning its water supply was frequently insufficient to meet potential crop demands. "There are over 34 creeks that come out onto the valley floor, and of those, most die in the canal that runs along the base of the Mission Mountains," Ryan stated, recalling a time when the Jocko River would run dry during the irrigation season.

Restoration efforts on the Jocko River commenced even before the compact’s ratification, bolstered by funds secured by the CSKT from a pivotal lawsuit in the 1980s known as the ARCO lawsuit. Mining and milling operations in the Upper Clark Fork River Basin had rendered the river, once a vital hunting and fishing ground for the tribes, so polluted that it became one of the nation’s largest Superfund sites. The $187 million ARCO settlement was instrumental in funding cleanup initiatives undertaken by the tribes and the state. Crucially, the lawsuit also underscored the potency of the rights outlined in the CSKT’s treaty and the tribes’ capacity to leverage legal frameworks for environmental reclamation. Driven by a commitment to preserving the culturally significant bull trout, the tribes focused their restoration efforts on the South Fork of the Jocko, recognizing its similar hydrological characteristics to the Clark Fork. The bull trout, listed under the Endangered Species Act in 1998, finds its last stronghold in the Jocko River, which supports its sole remaining migratory population. White explained that the bull trout historically served as a crucial food source for the tribes, providing sustenance during times of scarcity and helping the CSKT avoid the widespread starvation that affected other tribes during harsh winters. "We always had that incredible gift of the water, and with it, the gift of the bull trout," White remarked, having managed the educational and informational aspects of the Jocko River Restoration Project.

The Restoration Project aimed to mitigate further environmental damage by acquiring private land and relocating residences from the floodplain, simultaneously establishing an interdisciplinary team to spearhead environmental restoration. Today, the CSKT owns over 70% of its reservation, utilizing its tribal sovereignty to protect its lands, including the nation’s first tribally designated wilderness area. The tribe also designated the South Fork as a primitive area accessible only to tribal members, preserving its cultural and recreational value. However, funding from the ARCO case eventually concluded, leaving the lower reaches of the Jocko still channelized and constrained against the Bison Range. "When we got the Water Compact, the last block clicked into place," White observed, signifying its critical role in advancing the restoration efforts.

The compact’s implementation phase has seamlessly continued the work initiated by the Jocko River Restoration Project, with "adaptive management" serving as a guiding principle. By reconnecting the river to its floodplain and allowing water to slow, spread, and re-infiltrate the land, tribal crews are diligently monitoring and assessing the river’s healing process. Indigenous traditional ecological knowledge is also being integrated into the recovery strategy. In low-lying areas, tribal crews have established natural filtration zones utilizing cattails and other wetland plants, creating living buffers that effectively capture agricultural runoff before it enters the river. The project’s overarching objective is to harmonize agricultural needs with ecological sustainability. More efficient water delivery systems can minimize losses while still reserving adequate water for instream flows, and according to Ryan, this approach has already led to an increased return of bull trout to their native streams. Healthier rivers, in turn, contribute to soil enrichment, groundwater recharge, and the stabilization of the broader watershed essential for agricultural productivity. "One of the beautiful things about the compact is it recognizes that water is a unitary resource, and that it needs to be managed as such," Ryan stated. "FIIP’s rehabilitation has been good for fish and farmers."

The compact’s foundational measures—including the rehabilitation of FIIP’s infrastructure, remediation of environmental damage, and enhanced water management practices—are vital, but cultural preservation remains an equally crucial component. "The restoration’s importance cannot be overstated," Peone-Stops asserted. "It’s going to bring back life, and with plant and animal life, it could bring life back to the culture in new ways." The CSKT’s Séliš-Ql̓ispé Culture Committee, guided by the wisdom of a tribal elders’ board, has been central to the tribe’s cultural preservation efforts for five decades, providing crucial direction for the practical application of every project. Beyond landscape restoration, the compact is generating employment opportunities and fostering a renewed connection for tribal members to their traditional lifeways. Peone-Stops noted that this contributes to the tribe’s reinforced belief that every natural resource is intrinsically a cultural resource. "The Water Compact is helping us to continue our mission: to preserve, protect and perpetuate the Selis and Qlispe culture, language and history," Peone-Stops declared. "It’s not a one-and-done thing. It will help us continue to serve our membership into the future." In 2021, the CSKT further solidified its commitment to cultural preservation by establishing the Lower Flathead River as a cultural waterway through its "Cultural Waterway Ordinance," which mirrors the protections afforded by the Wild and Scenic Rivers Act by safeguarding a river’s free-flowing nature from development. Peone-Stops indicated that the tribe intends to preserve and protect other waterways in the future. "When I think about this compact, it’s not about control or greediness. It’s so that the water – and everything connected to it – is protected," Peone-Stops concluded. "We adapt with what we have to, but our tribal practices, caring for the land in the way we know how, has always been the same."