SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES
_________________
No. 22–227
_________________
LAC du FLAMBEAU BAND OF LAKE SUPERIOR CHIPPEWA
INDIANS, et al., PETITIONERS
v. BRIAN W. COUGHLIN
on writ of certiorari to the united states
court of appeals for the first circuit
[June 15, 2023]
Justice Gorsuch, dissenting.
Until today, there was “not one example in all
of history where [this] Court ha[d] found that Congress intended to
abrogate tribal sovereign immunity
without expressly
mentioning Indian tribes somewhere in the statute.”
In re
Greektown Holdings, LLC, 917 F.3d 451, 460 (CA6 2019) (internal
quotation marks omitted). No longer. The Court reads the phrase
“other foreign or domestic government,” 11 U. S. C.
§101(27), as synonymous with “any and every government,”
ante, at 4—all for the purpose of holding that §106(a) of
the Bankruptcy Code abrogates tribal sovereign immunity. It is a
plausible interpretation. But plausible is not the standard our
tribal immunity jurisprudence demands. Before holding that Congress
has vitiated tribal immunity, the Legislature must “unequivocally
express” its intent to achieve that result.
C & L
Enterprises, Inc. v.
Citizen Band Potawatomi Tribe of
Okla.,
532 U.S.
411, 418 (2001) (internal quotation marks omitted).
Respectfully, I do not think the language here
does the trick. The phrase “other foreign or domestic government”
could mean what the Court suggests: every government, everywhere.
But it could also mean what it says: every “other foreign
. . . government”; every “other . . . domestic
government.” And properly understood, Tribes are neither of those
things. Instead, the Constitution’s text—and two centuries of
history and precedent—establish that Tribes enjoy a unique status
in our law. Because this reading of the statute is itself (at
worst) a plausible one, I would hold that the Bankruptcy Code
flunks this Court’s clear- statement rule and reverse.
I
As the Court reaffirms today, “the doctrine of
tribal immunity is settled law.”
Kiowa Tribe of Okla. v.
Manufacturing Technologies, Inc.,
523
U.S. 751, 756 (1998); see
ante, at 3–4. Nor should that
fact come as a surprise. From the founding to the present, this
Court has recognized the Tribes’ continued existence as
“independent sovereigns.”
Haaland v.
Brackeen, 599
U. S. ___, ___–___ (2023) (Gorsuch, J., concurring) (slip op.,
at 12–18); see,
e.g., United States v.
Wheeler,
435 U.S.
313, 322 (1978);
Worcester v.
Georgia, 6 Pet.
515, 559 (1832) (Marshall, C. J., for the Court).
A “necessary corollary to [that] Indian
sovereignty” is immunity from private suit.
Three Affiliated
Tribes of Fort Berthold Reservation v.
Wold Engineering,
P. C.,
476 U.S.
877, 890 (1986). It is, after all, “inherent in the nature of
sovereignty not to be amenable to the suit of an individual
without its consent.” The Federalist No. 81, p. 487 (C.
Rossiter ed. 1961) (A. Hamilton). That understanding, derived from
both “common law sovereign immunity” and “law-of-nations sovereign
immunity,” is a background principle on which the Constitution
itself rests. See
Franchise Tax Bd. of Cal. v.
Hyatt,
587 U. S. ___, ___–___ (2019) (slip op., at 6–9) (internal
quotation marks omitted) (citing authorities). And it applies to
Tribes no less than foreign nations,
Santa Clara Pueblo v.
Martinez,
436 U.S.
49, 58 (1978), a tradition that traces back over 170 years, see
Parks v.
Ross, 11 How. 362, 374 (1851). See also W.
Wood, It Wasn’t an Accident: The Tribal Sovereign Immunity Story,
62 Am. U. L. Rev. 1587, 1640 (2013) (Wood).
While venerable, tribal immunity—like its state
and foreign counterparts—is not immutable. The federal government
can abrogate it, at least as far as its fonts of power let it. See
Santa Clara Pueblo, 436 U. S., at 58–59; cf.
Brackeen, 599 U. S., at ___ (opinion of Gorsuch, J.)
(slip op., at 31). But the choice to abrogate tribal immunity is
fundamentally political in nature. It is a choice that therefore
belongs to Congress, the “department which can modify [the law] at
will,” and not the Judiciary, the “department which can pursue only
the law as it is written.”
Brown v.
United States, 8
Cranch 110, 129 (1814) (Marshall, C. J., for the Court).
Recognizing the Constitution’s division of responsibility, this
Court has long left all decisions about tribal and other sorts of
sovereign immunity “in Congress’s hands.”
Michigan v.
Bay
Mills Indian Community,
572 U.S.
782, 789 (2014).
Because “erroneous abrogation[s]” of immunity
risk inter-sovereign conflicts and reprisals, this Court employs an
additional interpretive guardrail—“a clear statement requirement
designed to ensure that the political branches acted knowingly and
intentionally” in divesting sovereigns of their legal entitlements.
A. Bellia & B. Clark, The Law of Nations as Constitutional Law,
98 Va. L. Rev. 729, 792–793 (2012). Under this approach, we
will not read a statute to abrogate immunity “if any other possible
construction remains.”
Murray v.
Schooner Charming
Betsy, 2 Cranch 64, 118 (1804); see also,
e.g.,
Financial Oversight and Management Bd. for P. R. v.
Centro De Periodismo Investigativo, Inc., 598 U. S.
___, ___ (2023) (slip op., at 1). That goes for Tribes just as it
goes for other sovereigns; it is an “enduring principle of Indian
law” that we “will not lightly assume that Congress in fact intends
to undermine Indian” sovereignty absent pellucid evidence to the
contrary.
Bay Mills, 572 U. S., at 790.
All this explains the now-familiar
clear-statement rule that this Court has endorsed on countless
occasions. If Congress wishes to abrogate tribal immunity, its
“decision must be clear.”
Ibid. And the Legislature must
“unequivocally express” its decision in the text of a statute.
C
& L Enterprises, 532 U. S., at 418 (internal quotation
marks omitted). Under that rule, “[a]ny ambiguities in the
statutory language are to be construed in favor of immunity.”
FAA v.
Cooper,
566 U.S.
284, 290 (2012). Keep that hard-to-meet standard in mind. We
will return to it as we make our way through the statutory text
driving today’s dispute.
II
The Bankruptcy Code stipulates that,
“notwithstanding an assertion of sovereign immunity, sovereign
immunity is abrogated as to a governmental unit to the extent set
forth in this section.” §106(a). That language, this Court has
previously held, signals a clear intent to abrogate sovereign
immunity. See
Central Va. Community College v.
Katz,
546 U.S.
356, 379 (2006). But as to which sovereigns? The answer to that
question lies elsewhere in the Bankruptcy Code. “The term
‘governmental unit,’ ” it says, “means United States; State;
Commonwealth; District; Territory; municipality; foreign state;
department, agency, or instrumentality of the United States (but
not a United States trustee while serving as a trustee in a case
under this title), a State, a Commonwealth, a District, a
Territory, a municipality, or a foreign state; or other foreign or
domestic government.” §101(27).
That is a lot of words. For present purposes,
however, only the last five matter: “other foreign or domestic
government.” No one argues any of the other clauses could
potentially refer to Tribes. We can further winnow down the options
from there. No one thinks Tribes qualify as
“foreign . . . government[s].” That leaves only two
possibilities. Tribes could qualify as “ ‘domestic
governments’ ”—respondent’s lead argument. Tr. of Oral Arg.
41. Or the phrase “other foreign or domestic government,” read as a
whole, could mean “any and every government”—respondent’s backup
argument and the one the Court adopts today.
Ante, at 4.
Neither possibility is the slam dunk our familiar clear-statement
rule requires. Consider each in turn.
A
Start with the “domestic government”
possibility. At the time Congress adopted the provisions of the
Bankruptcy Code at issue before us, the word “domestic” carried
only two potentially relevant meanings. It could mean
spatially domestic—
i.e., within the territorial
confines of the United States. Or it could mean
politically
domestic—
i.e., a subpart of the United States. Contemporary
definitions support each of those possibilities and only those
possibilities. See,
e.g., Random House Dictionary of the
English Language 581 (2d ed. 1987) (“of or pertaining to one’s own
or a particular country as apart from other countries”); American
Heritage Dictionary 416 (2d College ed. 1982) (“[o]f or pertaining
to a country’s internal affairs”).
If we were to read the term only in its spatial
sense, as the First Circuit did below and respondent urges us to
do, it makes some sense to speak of Tribes as “domestic.” See
In re Coughlin, 33 F. 4th 600, 606 (2022). These
days, tribal jurisdiction usually falls within the United States’
territorial bounds—although that was not true for most of the
Nation’s history, and became so only after the West was won. M.
Fletcher, Tribal Consent, 8 Stan. J. Civ. Rights & Civ. Lib.
45, 55, n. 63 (2012). Of course, usually does not mean always.
Even to this day, all three branches of government struggle to
address the status of Tribes that straddle our Nation’s borders.
See,
e.g., 8 U. S. C. §1359 (setting special
immigration rules for “American Indians born in Canada”); 22 CFR
§42.1(f ) (2022) (similar);
Matter of Yellowquill, 16
I. & N. Dec. 576, 577–578 (BIA 1978) (interpreting other
provisions to not apply to Canada-born “American” Indians);
Akins v.
Saxbe,
380 F. Supp. 1210, 1218–1222 (Me. 1974) (similar). Evidently,
our neighbor to the north has encountered similar difficulties. See
R. v.
Desautel, 2021 SCC 17 (analyzing traditional
cross-border hunting rights).
Focusing only on the spatial meaning of
“domestic,” however, would miss an obvious point. When it comes to
the status of governments, this Court has long recognized that
geography takes a backseat. Whether a government qualifies as
“domestic” instead usually depends on “the political relation in
which one government or country stands to another”; the term has
“no relation to local, geographical, or territorial position.”
Cherokee Nation v.
Georgia, 5 Pet. 1, 55 (1831)
(Thompson, J., dissenting); see also
id., at 16–20
(Marshall, C. J., for the Court). At minimum, this line of
thinking leaves open a reasonable possibility that Congress in
§101(27) meant the term “domestic” in its political (not
geographic) sense. Accordingly, for respondent’s primary argument
to succeed, he must show that the
political relationship
between Indian Tribes and the United States is such that the term
“domestic government”
clearly covers them.
That is a burden respondent cannot carry.
Properly understood, Indian Tribes “occupy a unique status” that is
neither politically foreign nor domestic.
National Farmers Union
Ins. Cos. v.
Crow Tribe,
471 U.S.
845, 851 (1985). Significant evidence supports this
understanding. Start with the text of the Constitution. Its terms
appear to “place Indian [T]ribes in an intermediate category
between foreign and domestic states.” Z. Price, Dividing
Sovereignty in Tribal and Territorial Criminal Jurisdiction, 113
Colum. L. Rev. 657, 670 (2013) (Price). At least two
provisions illustrate as much. One is the Commerce Clause, which
gives Congress the power to regulate “Commerce” “with foreign
Nations,” “among the several States,” and “with the Indian Tribes.”
Art. I, §8, cl. 3. The inclusion of that third Commerce Clause
power suggests that Tribes were not reach- able either by
Congress’s foreign commerce power or by its domestic (interstate)
commerce power. More obscure but no less probative is the
Constitution’s exemption from the apportionment formula of all
“Indians not taxed.” Art. I, §2, cl. 3; Amdt. 14, §2. That
choice recognizes that Tribes are not fully “domestic” to the
United States, and instead stand “separate from the polity.” Price
670.
These provisions, too, reflected a widely shared
understanding about the sovereign status of Tribes at the founding.
As Secretary of War Henry Knox put it in a letter to President
Washington, the Tribes were in many ways akin to “foreign nations,”
and not part “of any particular [S]tate.” Letter to G. Washington
(July 7, 1789), in 3 Papers of George Washington: Presidential
Series 134, 138 (D. Twohig ed. 1989). Consistent with this
understanding, before 1871 the United States (and, prior to that,
Great Britain) chiefly managed tribal relations by way of treaty.
Entering into those treaties “admit[ted]” that the Tribes “rank
among those powers who are capable of making treaties.”
Worcester, 6 Pet., at 559. Governments do not normally deal
with politically “domestic” authorities in that manner. See,
e.g., Ex parte Crow Dog,
109
U.S. 556, 572 (1883) (linking Tribes’ “ ‘capacity to make
treaties’ ” with their unique “ ‘semi-independent’ ”
status, allowing them to control “ ‘their domestic
government’ ” (quoting
United States v.
Joseph,
94 U.S.
614, 617 (1877)));
The Cherokee Tobacco, 11 Wall. 616,
622 (1871) (Bradley, J., dissenting) (similar).
This Court’s earliest Indian-law jurisprudence
offers more evidence along the same lines. In
Cherokee
Nation v.
Georgia, “three distinct views of tribal
sovereignty emerged” on the question whether, “for purposes of
Article III,” the Cherokee Nation was a “foreign nation.” R.
Tsosie, Tribalism, Constitutionalism, and Cultural Pluralism: Where
Do Indigenous Peoples Fit Within Civil Society?, 5 U. Pa. J.
Const. L. 357, 360–361 (2003). In the lead opinion for the Court,
Chief Justice Marshall emphasized that “[t]he condition of the
Indians in relation to the United States is perhaps unlike that of
any other two people in existence.” 5 Pet., at 16. For the limited
purposes of Article III, Chief Justice Marshall rejected the
view that the Tribes could, “
with strict accuracy, be
denominated foreign nations.”
Id., at 17 (emphasis added).
Instead, he suggested, “[t]hey may,
more correctly,
perhaps, be denominated domestic dependent nations.”
Ibid. (emphasis added). But notably, he did not describe the
Tribes as “domestic” for all purposes. To the contrary, he
deliberately chose the term
nations, stressing also that
“[i]n the general, nations not owing a common allegiance are
foreign to each other.”
Id., at 16. In that way, he said,
“the relation of the Indians to the United States is marked by
peculiar and cardinal distinctions which exist no where else.”
Ibid. Read in context, the term “domestic dependent nations”
is really a term of art meant to capture Tribes’ “hybrid position”
between “foreign and domestic states.” Price 670.
The remaining opinions in
Cherokee Nation
underscore this message. Justice Johnson, concurring, rejected the
moniker “foreign state.” 5 Pet.
, at 27. But he also thought
it “very clear that the [C]onstitution neither speaks of ”
Tribes “as [S]tates or foreign states, but as just what they were,
Indian [T]ribes; an anomaly unknown to the books.”
Ibid.
Justice Baldwin, also concurring, rejected the idea that Tribes
were “states, foreign
or domestic.”
Id., at 43
(emphasis added). And Justice Thompson, joined by Justice Story,
dissented on the grounds that he thought the Cherokee had a chiefly
“
foreign character,” all things considered.
Id., at
55. All told, this Court split sharply as to the best way to
characterize the legal status of Tribes in relation to the United
States. But if there is one thing all Members of the Court could
have agreed on, perhaps it would be this: Neither the term “foreign
government” nor the term “domestic government” adequately captures
the Tribes’ unique legal and political status.
This Court’s later decisions only give further
reason to doubt that Tribes are clearly “domestic government[s].”
No less than this Court’s first case analyzing tribal sovereign
immunity,
Parks v.
Ross, rested on the view that each
Tribe remains
“in many respects” (but not all) “a
foreign and independent nation.” 11 How., at 374 (emphasis
added); see Wood 1640 (describing
Parks as “the first case
of record involving tribal immunity”). That language not only
weighs against treating Tribes as domestic governments. It does so
in
precisely the context at issue here—sovereign immunity.
If we can assume that Congress “is aware of this Court’s relevant
precedents,” the notion that the Bankruptcy Code abrogates tribal
sovereign immunity is sunk.
Ysleta del Sur Pueblo v.
Texas, 596 U. S. ___, ___ (2022) (slip op., at 13).
That seems like an especially safe assumption here, given that
Congress adopted its most recent version of §106 after this
Court—twice—held that the provision failed our clear-statement rule
as to other sovereigns. See
United States v.
Nordic
Village, Inc.,
503 U.S.
30, 33–39 (1992);
Hoffman v.
Connecticut Dept. of
Income Maintenance,
492 U.S.
96, 98–104 (1989) (plurality opinion). That the respondent in
this case nowhere discussed
Parks in his briefing (and had
nothing to say about it at argument, see Tr. of Oral Arg. 43)
speaks volumes.
Of course, respondent has bigger problems than
just the
words this Court has used. He must contend with the
reality of this Court’s Indian-law jurisprudence, which in practice
has consistently treated Tribes as a “constitutional hybrid,
resembling [S]tates in certain respects and foreign nations in
others.” Price 670–671; see generally G. Ablavsky, Sovereign
Metaphors in Indian Law, 80 Mont. L. Rev. 11 (2019). For
example, while Congress has certain legislative authority over
tribal lands, the Tribes themselves need not abide by the Bill of
Rights or the Fourteenth Amendment. See
Oliphant v.
Suquamish Tribe,
435 U.S.
191, 194, n. 3 (1978) (citing
Talton v.
Mayes,
163 U.S.
376 (1896)). Instead, they are governed by unique regimes of
civil and criminal jurisdiction involving overlapping “federal,
tribal, and state authorities” unlike those employed anywhere else.
Oklahoma v.
Castro-Huerta, 597 U. S. ___, ___,
and n. 3 (2022) (Gorsuch, J., dissenting) (slip op., at 15,
and n. 3). And their unique character makes their brand of
sovereign immunity “not congruent” with the immunity other
sovereigns enjoy.
Three Affiliated Tribes, 476 U. S.,
at 890.
Nor are Tribes alone in standing outside the
foreign/domestic dichotomy. Take the Court’s treatment of the
so-called Insular Territories. It depends entirely on the idea that
those Territories are neither foreign nor domestic, but instead
unique entities “foreign to the United States, in a domestic
sense.”
Downes v.
Bidwell,
182
U.S. 244, 341 (1901) (White, J., concurring); see also C.
Burnett & B. Marshall, Between the Foreign and the Domestic:
The Doctrine of Territorial Incorporation, Invented and Reinvented
30, n. 3, in Foreign in a Domestic Sense: Puerto Rico,
American Expansion, and the Constitution (2001) (noting that the
Court has “unanimously and expressly adopted” that view). No one
could accuse me of having fondness for the Insular Cases. See
United States v.
Vaello Madero, 596 U. S. ___,
___ (2022) (Gorsuch, J., concurring) (slip op., at 1). But their
existence is fatal for respondent’s theory. After all, the Insular
Territories are a close comparator to Tribes and many have
considered “both [T]ribes and [T]erritories [to] share the same
status as ‘ “foreign to the United States, in a domestic
sense.” ’ ” H. Babock, A Possible Solution to the Problem
of Diminishing Tribal Sovereignty, 90 N. D. L. Rev. 13,
57 (2014). Tellingly, too, Congress
expressly abrogated any
immunity Territories may enjoy under the Bankruptcy Code. §101(27).
Yet it did no such thing when it came to the Tribes.
Respondent has no real answer to any of this. He
cites some cases in which this Court reprised the “domestic
dependent nations” language from
Cherokee Nation. See Brief
for Respondent 21 (citing cases). But as we have seen, that
language actually stands for a view of Tribes flatly inconsistent
with the “domestic government” characterization. Taking away those
examples leaves respondent with thin gruel. He directs us to
United States v.
Coxe, 18 How. 100, 103 (1856). But
that case observed only that “Cherokee
territory” counts as
“domestic
territory.”
Ibid. (emphases added). The
decision thus plainly used the term “domestic” only in its spatial
sense. The same goes for
Blatchford v.
Native Village of
Noatak,
501 U.S.
775 (1991). There, this Court recognized that Tribes are only
“in some respects” “more like States than foreign sovereigns.”
Id., at 782. Read with this context in mind, its statement
that “[t]hey are, for example, domestic,” referred only to their
spatial location.
Ibid. Confirming this point, the rest of
the paragraph contrasted the Tribes’ physical “domesticity” with
features of their political relationship with the United States.
Ibid.
More fundamentally, even granting respondent
these examples would not do him any good. Just think of the
balancing task we would face. On one side of the scale, we would
have a couple of scattered quotes (cherry-picked from over two
centuries of Indian-law jurisprudence) bandying about the word
“domestic” when describing certain
features of Tribes. On
the other side of the scale, we would have the text and history of
the Constitution, supported by more (and better) examples of this
Court’s jurisprudence fashioning rules of law treating Tribes as
sui generis. Faced with all that countervailing authority,
the best respondent could realistically hope for is that we declare
§101(27) a jump ball. And under our clear-statement rule, a jump
ball is as good as a possession arrow favoring the party opposing
the abrogation of sovereign immunity.
B
Taking the “domestic government” possibility
off the table leaves only one other. Respondent falls back on the
idea that “foreign or domestic” is really just shorthand for “every
government under the Sun.” The Court relies solely on this reading,
holding that §102(27) “unequivocally abrogates the sovereign
immunity of any and every government that possesses the power to
assert such immunity.”
Ante, at 4. Getting to that
conclusion from the statutory text requires two interpretive moves.
First, the reader must treat the words “foreign or domestic” as a
single, undifferentiated clause (rather than as a disjunctive
grouping of descriptors). Second, the reader must take that
undifferentiated clause to mean “anywhere and everywhere.” Each
move is plausible; neither is “clear.” And a problem with either is
game over.
Start with the first move. Respondent would have
us read “foreign or domestic” as a unitary clause expressing a
single, shared idea. This is what linguists might call a
hendiadys—“two terms separated by a conjunction [that] work
together as a single complex expression.” S. Bray, “Necessary and
Proper” and “Cruel and Unusual”: Hendiadys in the Constitution, 102
Va. L. Rev. 687, 688 (2016). On occasion, English employs that
sort of construct. But those occasions are the exceptions, not the
rule. Nor is it clear that is what we have here. As even respondent
concedes, “or” in “its ordinary use” instead indicates that
“ ‘the words it connects are to “be given separate
meanings.” ’ ” Brief for Respondent 23 (quoting
United
States v.
Woods,
571 U.S.
31, 45–46 (2013)). A perfectly natural reading, then, would ask
whether Tribes clearly qualify as “foreign . . .
government[s]”
or as “domestic government[s].” And because
the answer is “no” on both scores (for the reasons already laid out
above) the language flunks the clear-statement rule.
The second move has issues too. The case for
treating “foreign or domestic government” as synonymous with “any
government anywhere” rests on the premise that the terms are “two
extremes,” so that—by invoking both—Congress meant to cover every
part of an all-inclusive spectrum.
Ante, at 5. The Court
analogizes to the phrase “near and far,” which it argues sometimes
means “all over the map.”
Ante, at 5–6. But the premise here
is faulty and the analogy inapt. “Near” and “far” may well be “two
extremes”—one would not speak of a location being
both near
and far at the same time, for example. When it comes to
sovereigns, however, the terms “foreign” and “domestic” do not
share that same quality. Rather, as we have seen, an extensive
tradition supports treating certain sovereigns—Tribes among them—as
sui generis entities falling outside the foreign/domestic
dichotomy. That tradition is fatal under the clear-statement
rule.
How does respondent contend with this problem?
At argument, he retreated from his briefing and relied instead on a
provision of the Bankruptcy Code stating that, for purposes of that
Code, “ ‘or’ is not exclusive.” Tr. of Oral Arg. 41 (citing
§102(5)). From this, respondent reasoned, the Bankruptcy Code
abrogates tribal immunity because everyone can agree at least that
Tribes bear
some qualities of both foreign
and
domestic governments.
The provision respondent cites simply does not
do what he seems to think it does. In common usage, the term “or”
can carry two meanings. The first is exclusive. It requires full
satisfaction of one—and exactly one—listed condition. The second is
inclusive. It requires full satisfaction of at least one listed
condition. All §102(5) does is favor the latter meaning for
purposes of the Bankruptcy Code. Sound complicated? Just look at an
example. Suppose you tell your child that he can get a pet so long
as it is “small or a dog.” The child can choose a small animal
(like a hamster) or a large dog (like a mastiff ). But can the
child also choose a small dog? If the “or” is inclusive (as
respondent argues it is here), the answer is “yes.” If it is
exclusive, the answer is “no.” Critically, however, neither reading
covers a medium-sized aardvark. Such an animal may be
somewhat small and
somewhat doglike, but two near
misses do not add up to a hit. This is a simple point but an
important one. Regardless of whether “or” is used inclusively or
exclusively,
one of the input conditions must be
satisfied.
With this point in mind, respondent’s reading
collapses. To see why, consider another example. Suppose you are a
houseguest, and your host invites you to “help yourself to the
chocolate or vanilla ice cream in the freezer.” Upon opening the
freezer, you find three tubs—vanilla, chocolate, and Neapolitan.
For argument’s sake, too, let’s say the last tub also has a sticky
note: “Do not eat without clear permission.” Which ice cream can
you take? If the host meant “or” exclusively, you may take
either chocolate or vanilla, not both. If the host meant it
inclusively, you may scoop some of each. In neither event, however,
would you have permission to take the Neapolitan ice
cream—especially given the cautionary note. As a unique composite,
it does not clearly satisfy either of the necessary conditions. So
too here. Tribes may have
some features of both domestic and
foreign governments, but they do not clearly qualify as either, and
they have some features found in neither. Accordingly, §102(5) does
nothing to rescue respondent’s cause.
If anything, §102(5) only sheds light on what
the catchall term “other foreign or domestic government” does
cover. That phrase sweeps up, as Chief Judge Barron explained in
dissent below, certain “otherwise excluded, half-fish, half-fowl
governmental entities like authorities or commissions that are
created through interstate compacts”
(“ ‘other . . . domestic government[s]’ ”)
and “the joint products of international agreements” (“ ‘other
foreign . . . government[s]’ ”). 33 F. 4th, at
615. Without the catchall, entities of these sorts could
potentially fall through the cracks. Tribes, by contrast, are among
the most significant entities wielding sovereign immunity. They are
a unique form of government—and they alone are nowhere
mentioned.
The Court offers two responses. Above the line,
it asks why Territories are encompassed within §101(27)’s
immunity-abrogation provision if they share the same status of
Tribes—neither foreign nor domestic.
Ante, at 13
. The
answer, of course, is that Congress
expressly listed
Territories; it did not do the same for Tribes. Nor do I see how
Congress’s choice to include Territories supports the Court’s
suggestion that the term “other foreign or domestic government”
clearly covers all governments. To the contrary, under the
Court’s interpretation of that term, the express inclusion of
Territories becomes curious surplusage. And to the extent the Court
thinks Congress mentioned Territories just to be doubly clear that
the term “other foreign or domestic government” really does cover
all governments—adopting a kind of belt-and-suspenders
approach—isn’t it odd that Congress left one of the most notable
types of sovereigns (a key part of its “belt”) at home?
Below the line, the Court simply asserts
(without analysis or support) that “the terms ‘foreign’ and
‘domestic’ are two poles on a spectrum.”
Ante, at 12–13,
n. 7. It does not grapple, however, with the many decisions of
this Court discussed above that contradict that premise—and that do
so in the precise context of Indian law (in general) and sovereign
immunity (in particular). See
supra, at 6–11. Nor does it
grapple with the reality that, even if the terms were two poles on
a spectrum, many Justices of this Court have suggested that Indian
Tribes do not fall along that continuum at all and are instead
“just what they [are], Indian [T]ribes.”
Cherokee Nation, 5
Pet.
, at 27 (Johnson, J., concurring). Others of course have
disagreed. But that disagreement is no help to the Court under our
clear-statement rule. It is dispositive the other way.
III
Unable to demonstrate that the statute’s terms
clearly abrogate tribal immunity, respondent and the Court stress
that §101(27) as a whole “exudes comprehensiveness.”
Ante,
at 5. That is obviously true but not obviously helpful. Really, the
express inclusion of so many other types of sovereigns in the
Bankruptcy Code’s abrogation provision only deepens the mystery why
Tribes are nowhere mentioned. Normally, after all, when Congress
includes so many items within “ ‘[an] associated
group,’ ” we assume the omission of another means that it has
been deliberately “ ‘exclude[d].’ ”
Chevron
U. S. A. Inc. v.
Echazabal,
536 U.S.
73, 80 (2002). Nor, for that matter, has this Court ever held
that a statute’s general atmospherics can satisfy the
clear-statement rule when the text itself comes up short.
The Court also invokes the Bankruptcy Code’s
purposes. It contends that Congress designed the Code in part to
“offe[r] debtors a fresh start,” that its provisions were intended
to “sweep broadly,” and that petitioners’ view of the statute could
“upen[d] the policy choices that the Code embodies.”
Ante,
at 6–8. In a similar vein, the Court wonders what reason Congress
possibly could have had for excluding Tribes from its abrogation
provision.
Ibid. These are fair questions and concerns. Some
of them I share. But they, too, have no place in a case like this
one. For purposes of satisfying a clear-statement rule, attempts to
“construe” §106 “in light of the policies underlying the Bankruptcy
Code are unavailing.”
Hoffman, 492 U. S., at 104
(plurality opinion). Perhaps Members of Congress had good reasons
for failing to include Tribes in §101(27). Perhaps their decision
reflected a measured political compromise. Or perhaps the issue of
tribal immunity simply never came up. In all events, the result is
the same. Absent some clear textual indication, there can be no
abrogation.
Setting aside those policy concerns leaves the
Court with a methodological one. It fears adopting my approach
could transmute our clear-statement rule into some sort of
magic-words test.
Ante, at 10. I do not see how it could.
Congress could identify Tribes in any number of unmistakable
ways—“Indians,” “Native Americans,” “Indigenous Peoples,” or even
(as we have seen) “domestic dependent nations.” Congress has had no
trouble using language like that in plenty of other statutory
contexts. See,
e.g., 7 U. S. C. §8310; 42
U. S. C. §8802(17); 49 U. S. C. §5121(g).
Alternatively, Congress could identify Tribes by description—for
instance, “any other government that operates, in whole or in part,
within the territorial bounds of the United States.” See 33
F. 4th, at 622 (Barron, C. J., dissenting). Alternatively
still, Congress could abrogate
all sovereign immunity
through some unequivocal statement to that effect—using, for
example, the Court’s own formulation, “any and every government.”
Ante, at 4. The only thing Congress cannot do is use
“oblique or elliptical language” to “supply a clear statement.”
West Virginia v.
EPA, 597 U. S. ___, ___ (2022)
(Gorsuch, J., concurring) (slip op., at 13) (internal quotation
marks and alterations omitted). Because that is—at best—what the
Bankruptcy Code provides, I respectfully dissent.