Our perception of fire in the U.S. has largely been molded by more than a century of heavy wildfire suppression and the ever-present image of Smokey Bear pointing with a strict finger, urging us to prevent forest fires. More recently, we are experiencing terror from repeated large and catastrophic wildfires in the West.

But in many places, fire is as essential as rain to the health of landscapes. Ironically, one of the best defenses against catastrophic fire is to encourage more beneficial fires—a concept that Indigenous People have practiced for millennia.

Before European settlement, fire was a much more common, less feared element present on many landscapes, ignited by lightning and intentionally set by Indigenous People. This generative and sophisticated use of fire by Indigenous practitioners, known as “cultural fire,” is guided by an intertwined relationship with the plants, animals, and other species of their home ecosystems as well as Indigenous knowledge, practice, and belief systems, passed down through generations. Cultural fire serves many purposes, including providing food, fibers, and medicines; in ceremonies; for resource management; to manage pests and diseases; protecting homes and communities; promoting durable carbon storage; and promoting biodiversity. Cultural burning is separate and distinct from prescribed fire, defined differently by different Tribal communities, and governed solely by Tribal or Traditional Indigenous law.

During the late 19th century and early 20^th century, federal and state government policies explicitly criminalized Indigenous burning practices and land management, and fire officials began to put out as many fires as possible as quickly as possible. As late as the 1930s, Native Americans were shot for engaging in Indigenous burning practices. This legacy of full fire suppression and Indigenous oppression continues to impact landscapes and communities today.

Research in California reveals that before the 1800s, fire affected approximately 4.4 million acres of the state annually. To put this in perspective, that’s equivalent to 88% of the total area burned across the entire U.S. in the ten-year period between 1994 and 2004. California once had nearly as many fires in one year as the entire nation recently had in ten years—before fire suppression became the law of the land. However, in more recent years, the number of acres burned in the Western U.S. has seen large spikes. But we can’t just talk about wildfire in terms of acres burned, because many of these fires are burning severely over large, continuous areas, devastating ecosystems and communities. The real solution is bringing back more frequent, lower-intensity fires across the landscape.

Despite its proven benefits and that for many Tribes, it is an unceded Tribal right, legal and bureaucratic challenges still stand in the way of Indigenous Tribes conducting their traditional burning practices. Even today, cultural burning can be misclassified as arson. These obstacles not only delay and significantly restrict cultural burning but also undermine the sovereignty of Indigenous Nations and impede the ability of Indigenous people to carry out the cultural and ceremonial stewardship practices that are essential to their cultural identity and to the stewardship of their home ecosystems.

To learn more about the barriers and solutions to expanding the use of cultural fire from the Karuk Tribe of the Klamath Region of Northern California, they have published their Good Fire II report

One bill in which recently passed in California takes steps to break down cultural fire barriers. Senate Bill 310, authored by Senator Dodd and sponsored by the Karuk Tribe, the state can for the first time acknowledge Tribal sovereignty over cultural burning in law and in practice through sovereign-to-sovereign agreements.Governor Gavin Newsom signed the bill into law September 27 2024. Supporting Tribes to practice, revitalize, and reclaim cultural fire is crucial for a just, healthy, safe, and resilient future for ecosystems and communities alike.

We will not be able to get to the scale of burning that we need to in California without the restoration and revitalization of Indigenous burning practices and systems. This requires practices and policies that honor Tribal sovereignty, engagement in meaningful collaboration with Tribes, and respect for Tribal leadership in environmental stewardship.

For Indigenous communities, fire is not something to fear but a relation to understand and respect. Cultural fire is a way of living in harmony with the land, rooted in thousands of years of knowledge and practice, and a critical way of ensuring ecosystem health for future generations. As a nation, we must build a future where fire is once again a force for renewal and regeneration, guided by and with respect for Indigenous wisdom that has been built over millennia.