Many settlers in Vancouver had no idea that the land by the south end of the Burrard Bridge was once a village home to the Sḵwx̱wú7mesh people.
When the Squamish Nation announced its plans to develop housing on the land in 2019, CBC published a story about its “little-known history.”
In 1913, B.C.’s attorney general forced the original residents into an illegal sale of their land, sent them away on barges and burned the village of Sen̓áḵw to the ground. It was a dark chapter for Vancouver at the spot where people have since enjoyed the vistas of Vanier Park.
The Sḵwx̱wú7mesh people never forgot. They launched a legal challenge that lasted decades, and the federal government eventually returned a small portion of the reserve to the nation in 2000.
While it might have become a “little-known history” over time to settlers, there was intense media coverage of Sen̓áḵw before, during and after its illegal 1913 sale. The unfolding story made the front pages, sparking MPs in Ottawa to moralize and blame one another and MLAs in Victoria to eventually launch an inquiry.
Mayana Slobodian, a Ukrainian/Red River Métis guest on lək̓ʷəŋən territory, recently earned her doctorate at the University of Toronto’s criminology and socio-legal studies program. She combed through newspapers, oral histories and transcripts of the government inquiry to understand why the situation at Sen̓áḵw had upset settlers so much.
Slobodian’s article on the subject in the journal BC Studies, published last fall, is aptly titled “The Kitsilano Scandal.”
To settlers of the day, the scandal wasn’t that the Sḵwx̱wú7mesh people had their land seized and were displaced. Rather, the scandal was over the process.
“It made me realize that what was upsetting about it was that it had been taken illegally, not necessarily that it was taken,” said Slobodian. “That visible violence really seemed to upset people.”
When settlers did their colonizing, they preferred to sanitize the effects, she argues.
“You see it in newspapers, people talking about ‘Why can’t we do this in a way that we can uphold the law? That we can have our land and eat it too?’”
Who is the city for?
Long before the arrival of European settlers, Sḵwx̱wú7mesh people established the summer village of Sen̓áḵw.
The lands and waters at the head of what is now known as False Creek offered abundant hunting and harvesting — everything from cedar to salmon, beaver to beach asparagus. It was an important place for culture, commerce and connection, where neighbouring peoples gathered together for potlatches.
In 1877, Indian Reserve commissioners visited Sen̓áḵw, surveyed it and formally designated it as “Kitsilano Indian Reserve No. 6,” limiting its residents to 80 acres.
The city continued to grow around Sen̓áḵw, and real estate boomed. Property in the adjacent neighbourhood of Kitsilano — which takes its name from the Sḵwx̱wú7mesh Chief Xats’alánexw — was particularly hot. In the year of the displacement, the Vancouver Daily World proclaimed: “Values in Popular Kitsilano Are Rising Very Rapidly.”
Settlers viewed the reserve as inaccessible and underdeveloped. The city did not provide services like utilities or garbage collection, considering it to be under federal jurisdiction.
“There’s all this conversation about the unruliness of what’s going to happen on this land that’s right in the middle of the city,” said Slobodian. “There’s these incredible maps... you can see all of the houses and all of the properties filling in around Kitsilano. The reserve is like this ‘dark continent,’ this ‘dark patch’ in the middle of the city.”
Newspapers called it “exceedingly valuable property” while decrying it as a centre for crime and a “moral infection.” Its location, surrounded by the growing metropolis, made it a target of “settler attention, fear and desire,” writes Slobodian.

She argues that Sen̓áḵw is a prime example of how urban centres can be viewed as the natural home of settlers, ignoring the fact that settlers are situated on Indigenous land.
“I grew up in the ’90s in Victoria and there was still this idea that Indigenous people live outside the city,” she said.
That notion can inadvertently produce the idea that Indigenous people don’t belong in urban centres, she added.
“I wanted to push back against that and say, ‘Hang on, Indigenous people have been in the city, but there’s been a concerted effort to move them out.’”

Shady dealings
In 1903, Vancouver Mayor Thomas Neelands wanted to acquire the reserve for the city.
Newspapers excitedly suggested possibilities such as a courthouse, summer fairgrounds and “a very large playground.” The editor of the Vancouver Daily World used the newspaper to actively campaign for the city to take it over for “civic breathing space.” This ramped up as the day of displacement neared. The World featured three front-page articles about visions for railway land, a drill hall and parade ground and a harbour facility.
To solve such land issues, the federal government established the Indian Land Commission with the province in 1912.
Richard McBride might have been B.C.’s premier at the time, but the Vancouver Sun reported that it was an “open secret” that the real “master of government” was his attorney general and former classmate, William John Bowser.
Bowser, nicknamed “Napoleon Bowser” by the press, was known for campaigning against Asian immigration, sending in provincial police to crack down on a coal miners’ strike and offering preferential contracts to his close contacts.
In the spring of 1913, McBride left for London, leaving Bowser in charge of the province and with the instruction to find a way to acquire Sen̓áḵw.
According to newspapers, Bowser held a meeting at the chambers of the local magistrate with some Sḵwx̱wú7mesh members. A police officer stood guard at the door. Bowser was said to have strong-armed 20 “illiterate” men into accepting $11,250 each, described as a “direct violation” of Dominion law.
Bowser reportedly said: “When the commissioners have gone you will get nothing at all for your land, not one cent. All you will get will be a portion of land somewhere in the Squamish valley in return for the Kitsilano reserve. Now which do you prefer, $11,250 or nothing? Here is your cheque. If you want it you can take it, and draw your money for the land, or you can leave it.”
According to Chief Louis Miranda, who acted as a translator throughout the sale and shared an oral history of the events years later, the meeting was “shady” in various ways.
Many members of the Squamish Tribe happened to be away at the time working or visiting family. The deal excluded Sḵwx̱wú7mesh women who had married into other groups, even though Sḵwx̱wú7mesh law spells out their right to be involved.
The Sḵwx̱wú7mesh men in attendance were indeed aware that the deal was shady and that they were not allowed to sell anything on their own, Miranda goes on to say. But they might have been afraid that if the Department of Indian Affairs were consulted, it would take the money instead.
A public displacement
With Bowser’s threatening offer accepted, the day of displacement was set for April 9. It was declared by the press as “Indians Moving Day.”
The day was a huge spectacle, with older Sen̓áḵw residents hiding from the reporters, photographers and members of the public who had gathered to witness. The community loaded its belongings onto barges and were displaced to nearby reserves. That night, all of the buildings of Sen̓áḵw were burned to the ground.
The violence around the displacement disturbed settler residents.
“To have seen this entire village go up in flames would have been a really shocking image for people to carry,” said Slobodian, who listened to archival tapes of Vancouverites describing how they saw the smoke rise high into the sky.
The fear of fire isn’t surprising, considering that growing West Coast cities like Vancouver and San Francisco had been devastated by them in their early years.
The Vancouver Daily World published an article titled “The Passing of the Kitsilano Indians,” calling on settlers to “ponder over the affairs of a dying race, and of course on our responsibilities as to their marring or making.”
However, it also stated that the forced sale “does not compare well with British justice and fair play.”

‘Settler benevolence’
Sen̓áḵw quickly received national attention, with debate and much political grandstanding between the Liberal and Conservative MPs about how Indigenous land should be taken.
Slobodian describes the Conservative position this way: “We’re going to have to break some laws, hurt some people, violate some rights.”
And she describes the Liberal position: “Why can’t we do this in a way that we uphold law? How much can we get and feel morally OK with what we’ve done?”
MPs and the press blamed Bowser for conducting the “scandalous transaction.”
No government did anything to the Sen̓áḵw land. Instead, it attracted squatters, swimmers and the dumping of dynamite and dead bodies.
There were calls to investigate the sale, and the provincial government launched an inquiry in 1916, primarily a debate over potential government corruption.
MLAs heard mostly from government staff and lawyers from Bowser’s own firm on the facts of the sale. They questioned the witnesses in detail about the dollar amounts, from the public funds used without legislative authorization to whether Bowser’s close contacts pocketed the commission.
What was not said is perhaps more interesting than what was said, Slobodian explains. There was no mention of the Sḵwx̱wú7mesh people, from their thoughts on the sale to the cheques they were issued.
One committee member during the inquiry even said, “I don’t suppose there is a question in anybody’s mind about the desirability of getting the Indians off.”
Bowser, who had been elected premier by the time of the inquiry, defended his actions, saying that he had fought for a “good bargain.”
The inquiry concluded that neither Bowser nor his firm had directly benefited and that the sale was fair, at a reasonable price and of great public benefit.
Ultimately, the inquiry was about “settler benevolence,” says Slobodian.
“The historian Paulette Regan highlights how the myth of benevolence perpetuates a narrative of colonialism as a benign force,” she writes, “obscuring the violence and dispossession inherent in the colonial project.”
‘We never forgot’
Last year, the Squamish Nation published a history book, tiná7 cht ti temíxw (We Come From This Land).
In it, there is a chapter titled “Haw k’at Máynexw Senákw: We Never Forgot Senákw.”
It opens with Chepxímiya Siyám (Chief Janice George) sharing how when she was a child in the 1960s, her father would drive her and her sister in his truck to see the Sen̓áḵw site.
“This is Squamish,” he said. “This is Squamish land. This is where your ancestors lived. We’re working on getting this place back; we’re going to court for this.”
The nation launched its legal challenge in 1977, arguing that the federal government neglected its fiduciary duty to act in its best interest when their lands were illegally seized. In 2000, the settlement was reached, and they finally regained control over about 10.5 acres of the original 80-acre government-designated reserve.
Steph Wood, Kwetásel’wet, the lead writer of the book in conjunction with her Sḵwx̱wú7mesh community, found Slobodian’s article a fascinating study of “settler psychology.” She shared her thoughts with The Tyee as the researcher, not as a representative of the Sḵwx̱wú7mesh nation.
“I was interested in the way people were OK with shaking their heads and saying, ‘I’m so sad, that was so terrible.’ But not letting go of what was stolen and reaching a true remedy on the matter,” Wood said.
“Sen̓áḵw wasn’t necessarily an exception. It was just a very public example of what was happening over and over again to communities, how business is connected and how people were being deposed and forced out of their homes all over the country.”
‘True’ land back?
In 2019, the Squamish Nation announced that it was planning to develop 6,000 rental homes on the property, 1,200 of which would be below-market.

Sen̓áḵw has garnered a lot of attention among settlers. Those in support have said it is a bolder vision than what cities have come up with, as the reserve land is subject to the nation’s planning regulations, not the City of Vancouver’s.
Those opposed are mostly against the scale of the development. The Kits Point Residents Association took the city to court over what it claimed was an unlawful agreement with the nation for services. Its case was dismissed by a B.C. Supreme Court judge.
Slobodian notes that the piece of land is once again being viewed by settlers as an anomaly in the city. This time, however, it’s being viewed as overdeveloped rather than underdeveloped.
In her research on land dispossession, Slobodian notes that settlers tend to like to turn reserves into parks. Part of the original Sen̓áḵw reserve is home to Vanier Park.
“There’s almost something ‘purifying’ about having it be a park. That’s the most comfortable way to rid Indigenous land of Indigenous people: turn it into a park,” she said.
There have been arguments about how concrete towers are not an “Indigenous way of building,” which Slobodian says goes back to the idea that Indigenous people don’t belong in cities.
“It’s still a bit like saying if an Indigenous person is in the city, they’re no longer properly Indigenous,” she said.
Slobodian’s article reminds readers that cities like Vancouver are places of dispossession.
“I think that’s an idea that’s still challenging to many people,” said Wood. “Because of the coercion we see in the story of Sen̓áḵw, that’s the reason why we don’t see more reserves in cities.”
This is evident in how some settlers view the Sen̓áḵw development.
“From a very young age, people were told this narrative that Indigenous people were conquered... and that’s the end of it,” said Wood.
The Sen̓áḵw development “doesn’t fit in that narrative, right? This idea that we aren’t even supposed to be there, we definitely aren’t supposed to be building this huge project in the city.... It does reflect a fear of the idea of true ‘land back,’ and what it looks like to see Indigenous rights and jurisdiction being exercised.”
Sen̓áḵw’s first tower is expected to be completed by November.
To Wood, reckoning with what Sen̓áḵw represents means reckoning with Vancouver’s history.
“It does tie into that whole ‘benevolent settler’ idea: benefiting from the domination and the oppression that the city is built on, and not wanting to give anything up,” she said.
“To be a member of this city means you are witness and you are part of the ongoing story of Sen̓áḵw.”
‘The Kitsilano Scandal: The Destruction of Sen̓áḵw as Told in Local Newspapers, 1913-16’ by Mayana C. Slobodian can be found in BC Studies, No. 222.
Read more: Indigenous, Housing, Municipal Politics, Urban Planning
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