A premise of the American civil justice system is that the truth is ultimately accessible. In the idealized model of litigation, the “search for truth” is a unified objective that transcends geographic boundaries, allowing a court in one jurisdiction to reach across a border and compel the production of evidence located in another. This power, the power of subpoena power, is the engine of discovery. Without it, civil litigation becomes a game of chance, determined not by the facts of the case, but by the fortuitous location of the witnesses. However, the legal map is not a unified plane of accessibility. Instead, it is a complex quilt of overlapping sovereigns, each possessing the inherent right to define the boundaries of its own judicial authority.
For the majority of American legal history, the process of obtaining evidence across these sovereign lines was governed by a doctrine of hesitation and formality known as comity. Because a judge in Arkansas possessed no inherent authority to command a citizen of Oklahoma, the legal system relied on a cumbersome diplomatic mechanism known as “letters rogatory.” This model viewed the request for evidence not as a procedural right of the litigant, but as a humble request from one sovereign to another. It was a system characterized by judicial gatekeeping, high transaction costs, and significant delays, designed for an era when interstate travel was arduous and interstate litigation was rare.
In the twenty-first century, the economic and social integration of the United States rendered this 19th-century model obsolete. To facilitate the free flow of information required by a modern economy, the Uniform Law Commission promulgated the Uniform Interstate Depositions and Discovery Act (UIDDA). Both Oklahoma and Arkansas have adopted this transformative legislation, theoretically dissolving the procedural walls between them. Under the UIDDA, the domestication of a foreign subpoena has been transformed from a discretionary judicial hearing into a rote clerical function, prioritizing efficiency, speed, and cost-effectiveness above the formalities of sovereign distinction.
Yet, this narrative of modernization encounters an abrupt and complex barrier within a state that has adopted the Uniform Interstate Depositions and Discovery Act when discovery involves or implicates a federally recognized Indian Tribe. Despite the statutory inclusion of tribes within the definition of “state” in the Oklahoma and Arkansas UIDDA statutes, the operational reality of discovery in Indian Country is one of profound friction. Because many Tribal Nations have not adopted reciprocal uniform acts, and because they view the protection of their members as a paramount sovereign duty, the “clerk-to-clerk” efficiency of the UIDDA collapses.
While state-to-state discovery between Oklahoma and Arkansas has evolved into a seamless administrative process, state-to-tribe discovery remains anchored in the archaic, expensive, and time-consuming methodologies of the letters rogatory model.
To fully appreciate the divergence between modern state practice and current tribal practice, it is necessary to understand the “old model” that dominated American interstate discovery for the majority of the 20th century. This model was a reflection of a specific jurisprudential philosophy regarding the limits of judicial power. This traditional paradigm is characterized by judicial gatekeeping, the strict requirement of local licensure, and the overarching principle of discretionary comity.
The fundamental problem that the letters rogatory system sought to solve was the limitation of territorial jurisdiction. A subpoena is a writ of the court, a command backed by the coercive power of the state. Since the power of the State of Arkansas ends at its border, an Arkansas subpoena served on an Oklahoma witness is, legally speaking, a piece of paper with no force. It carries no threat of contempt because the issuing judge has no authority over the recipient. To bridge this gap, the legal system relied on the concept of “judicial assistance.”
A letter rogatory (formal term: letter of request) is a formal communication from one judge to another judge in a different jurisdiction. It is not a demand. It is a request that the receiving judge exercise their own independent power to assist the foreign court in the administration of justice. The underlying legal theory was one of comity, defined not as an obligation, but as a courtesy extended out of mutual respect and the expectation of future reciprocity. Because the foreign court was under no obligation to honor the request, the process was inherently discretionary.
The practical application of this theory created a procedural gauntlet that was legally dense and financially burdensome. The process began in the trial court, or the “home” state. The litigant seeking discovery could not simply issue a subpoena. Instead, they were required to file a formal motion with their own judge seeking the issuance of a “commission” or a “letter rogatory.” More than a formality, such a motion often invited opposition. The opposing party could object to the relevance or scope of the discovery sought before the request even left the courthouse. If the home judge granted the motion, the court would issue a formal document (the commission) appointing an individual, often a court reporter or a local attorney in the target state, to take the testimony.
However, possessing the commission was only the incipient step. The document then had to be physically transported to the “discovery state,” or the foreign jurisdiction. Because the commission itself had no coercive power over the witness in the foreign state, the litigant had to initiate a completely separate legal action in that jurisdiction. This is where the costs began to multiply exponentially and where the friction of the system became most palpable.
First, the litigant was invariably required to retain local counsel licensed in the discovery state. An attorney licensed only in Arkansas could not simply walk into an Oklahoma district court and file a petition to enforce the commission. To do so would constitute the unauthorized practice of law, a violation of professional ethics that could lead to sanctions. Consequently, the litigant was forced to pay two sets of attorneys: one to manage the strategy of the case in the home forum, and one to navigate the procedural idiosyncrasies of the foreign forum merely to secure a single document or deposition.
Second, the local counsel would file a “miscellaneous” action or a new civil case in the discovery state’s court. This filing was essentially a petition asking the local court to recognize the foreign commission and issue a local subpoena. This required the payment of a new filing fee, opening a new file in the clerk’s system, and assigning the matter to a local judge.
Third, and perhaps most critically, this filing often triggered a second layer of judicial review. The witness in the discovery state, or the opposing party, could move to quash the subpoena in the discovery state’s court. This resulted in the “trial of the discovery” taking place in a court that had no knowledge of the underlying merits of the case. The discovery state judge was placed in the difficult position of ruling on relevance, scope, or privilege regarding a negligence action or contract dispute pending hundreds of miles away. This bifurcated litigation meant that a discovery dispute could theoretically be litigated twice: once in the home state to get the commission, and once in the foreign state to enforce it.
The friction inherent in this system was a feature, not a flaw, of 19th-century jurisprudence. It was designed to protect citizens from harassment by foreign tribunals and to ensure that the coercive power of the state was not deployed lightly. However, in a modern economy with fluid borders, the costs were prohibitive. The requirement for a commission, a filed motion, a hearing in the home state, the retention of local counsel, a new filing in the foreign state, a filing fee, and potentially a second hearing in the foreign state transformed a simple deposition into a distinct, expensive litigation event.
The timeline for securing a deposition under this model was measured in months and sometimes years, rather than days or weeks. The necessity of scheduling hearings on crowded dockets in two different jurisdictions meant that discovery was often the primary bottleneck in litigation. Furthermore, if the foreign court denied the request, the litigant was often left without effective recourse, as appeals on discovery disputes are interlocutory and notoriously difficult to pursue. This cumbersome architecture is the historical baseline against which the modern reforms, and the current tribal difficulties, must be measured.
Recognizing that the letters rogatory model was a significant impediment to the efficient administration of justice and an unnecessary tax on commerce, the Uniform Law Commission promulgated the Uniform Interstate Depositions and Discovery Act (UIDDA) in 2007. The central philosophy of the UIDDA is the removal of judicial discretion from the domestication process. It fundamentally reconceptualizes the nature of interstate cooperation, converting the domestication of a subpoena from a judicial act requiring a judge’s signature into a ministerial act requiring only a clerk’s stamp. Both Oklahoma and Arkansas have adopted this framework, creating a seamless discovery zone between the two states that stands in stark contrast to the older model.
Oklahoma codified the UIDDA in Title 12, in 2021. It radically simplifies the procedure for obtaining discovery from Oklahoma residents for use in foreign litigation. The statute creates a mechanism that entirely bypasses the need for a commission, a local attorney, or a miscellaneous action.
Under the text of the Oklahoma statute, a party seeking discovery, for example, an Arkansas litigant seeking records from a business in Tulsa, does not need to file a preliminary motion in the Arkansas court. They simply obtain the standard subpoena from the Arkansas court clerk. Then, the Arkansas attorney sends this “foreign subpoena” directly to the court clerk in the county in Oklahoma where the discovery is sought.
The statute is explicit and mandatory in its directive to the court administration. Section 3252(B) mandates that the clerk “shall promptly issue a subpoena for service upon the person to which the foreign subpoena is directed.” The use of the word shall strips the clerk of discretion to refuse the filing provided the technical formatting is correct. It effectively removes the judge from the process entirely at the issuance stage. The Oklahoma clerk issues an Oklahoma subpoena that incorporates the terms of the Arkansas subpoena, giving it the full coercive force of Oklahoma law without the need for a judicial order.
The statute resolves the persistent issue of the unauthorized practice of law that plagued the letters rogatory model. Section 3252 explicitly states that the request for the issuance of the subpoena “does not constitute a court appearance.” Therefore, the Arkansas attorney does not need to be admitted pro hac vice in Oklahoma, nor do they need to retain local Oklahoma counsel merely to have the subpoena issued. The act of mailing the subpoena to the clerk is treated as an administrative interface rather than the practice of law.
Arkansas adopted UIDDA principles via Rule 45.1 of the Arkansas Rules of Civil Procedure, creating a mirrored system of efficiency. The process defined in the Arkansas rule is nearly identical to that of Oklahoma. An Oklahoma attorney seeking to depose a witness in Little Rock submits the Oklahoma subpoena to the circuit court clerk in Pulaski County, along with a draft Arkansas subpoena. The clerk is instructed to issue the Arkansas subpoena, which is then served in accordance with Arkansas rules regarding service of process.
Like Oklahoma, Arkansas Rule 45.1 eliminates the need for local counsel for the issuance phase. It creates a streamlined “clerk-to-clerk” or “attorney-to-clerk” workflow. The only costs incurred are the statutory filing fee—typically a nominal amount compared to the hourly rates of local counsel—and the cost of a professional process server to effectuate service on the witness.
The contrast between this modern model and the letters rogatory model is stark and transformative for litigants. The time required to secure a subpoena has been compressed from months to days, effectively only the time required to mail the documents or file them electronically and for the clerk to process the paperwork. The cost savings are equally significant, eliminating the thousands of dollars previously allocated to retaining local counsel in the discovery state merely to act as a conduit for paperwork.
The UIDDA creates a system of presumption of validity. Judicial intervention is only required if the witness objects or moves to quash. Only at that specific point, the enforcement phase, does the out-of-state litigant need to submit to the jurisdiction of the discovery state’s court, and typically, only then would local counsel be required to argue a substantive motion regarding privilege or burden. This shifts the default posture of the legal system from one of “stop and review” to one of “proceed unless challenged.”
While Oklahoma and Arkansas have synchronized their procedural mechanisms to facilitate the easy movement of evidence, the federally recognized tribes located within their geographic borders operate on a fundamentally different timeline of sovereignty. The relationship between the state court system and the tribal court system is a complex relationship of sovereign-to-sovereign interaction. This relationship has been significantly amplified and complicated by the United States Supreme Court’s decision in McGirt v. Oklahoma, which reaffirmed the reservation status of much of eastern Oklahoma, fundamentally altering the jurisdictional map.
A critical structural flaw exists in the interface between the state UIDDA statutes and tribal laws, creating a one-way street for discovery. Both the Oklahoma and Arkansas statutes define “State” in a manner that explicitly includes federally recognized tribes. Oklahoma Statute Title 12, Section 3251(4) defines “State” to mean “a state of the United States, the District of Columbia, Puerto Rico, the United States Virgin Islands, a federally recognized Indian tribe or any territory or insular possession subject to the jurisdiction of the United States.” Arkansas Rule 45.1(b)(4) contains identical language, including “a federally recognized Indian tribe” within its definition of a state for the purposes of the rule.
On its face, this language appears to be a gesture of inclusion and seamless integration. It means that if a litigant in the Cherokee Nation District Court or the Choctaw Nation District Court wishes to serve a subpoena on a witness located in Oklahoma City or Little Rock, the state courts in Oklahoma and Arkansas are statutorily mandated to honor that request using the simplified UIDDA process. The state courts treat the Tribe as a state for discovery purposes, granting the tribal litigant the full benefits of the efficient “clerk-to-clerk” system.
However, the UIDDA is not a treaty; it is a uniform state law that functions effectively only through parallel adoption. For the system to work in reverse, meaning for an Oklahoma state court to seamlessly serve a subpoena on a reservation, the Tribe must have adopted a reciprocal version of the UIDDA into its own tribal code. The vast majority of Tribes, including the Five Civilized Tribes—the Cherokee, Choctaw, Chickasaw, Muscogee (Creek), and Seminole Nations—have not adopted the UIDDA.
Consequently, an Oklahoma or Arkansas attorney holding a valid state subpoena cannot simply mail it to the Cherokee Nation District Court clerk in Tahlequah and expect an automatic issuance. The Tribal code does not authorize the tribal clerk to perform that ministerial act. Because the Tribe has not adopted the uniform act, the “clerk-to-clerk” option is effectively out. The tribal clerk has no statutory authority to domesticate the foreign subpoena without a judicial order, forcing the process back into the realm of judicial discretion.
The implications of this statutory mismatch are profound, particularly in the post-McGirt legal landscape. With the Supreme Court’s affirmation that the reservations of the Five Tribes were never disestablished, a vast swathe of eastern Oklahoma is legally “Indian Country.” While the McGirt decision primarily addressed criminal jurisdiction, distinguishing between state and federal/tribal authority to prosecute crimes, its ripple effects touch every aspect of sovereignty, including civil procedure and the enforceability of court orders.
Tribes view their court systems as essential expressions of their sovereignty, co-equal to the state and federal judiciaries. Allowing a state court clerk to automatically trigger a tribal court subpoena without judicial review could be viewed as an infringement on that sovereignty—a submission to the procedural rules of a foreign power. Therefore, Tribes generally retain the “old model” of gatekeeping not merely out of legislative inertia, but as a deliberate assertion of the right to control their own judicial processes. This gatekeeping ensures that state discovery requests do not violate tribal protections, harass tribal members, or infringe upon the tribe’s internal governance.
The result is a fractured discovery landscape in Oklahoma where the rules of engagement change the moment a process server crosses the boundary of a reservation or seeks to serve a tribal entity. The modern expressway of the UIDDA ends, and the practitioner is forced to off-road into the complex, heterogeneous terrain of Tribal Codes, where the “old ways” of letters rogatory and commissions remain the law of the land.
When an Oklahoma or Arkansas litigant determines that necessary evidence resides with a person or entity subject to tribal jurisdiction—such as a tribal employee, a resident on tribal trust land, or a tribal enterprise—they cannot utilize the streamlined state procedures. Instead, they must utilize the specific discovery procedures mandated by that Tribe’s civil procedure code. These procedures almost invariably resemble the pre-UIDDA letters rogatory or commission model. They are characterized by the rigorous requirements of local counsel, judicial petitions, and discretionary review.
The following analysis outlines the process generally required to obtain discovery in this context, drawing on the procedural frameworks of the Cherokee, Choctaw, and Muscogee (Creek) Nations as primary case studies to illustrate the systemic friction.
The most immediate and costly distinction from the UIDDA process is the inability of the foreign attorney to act directly within the tribal forum. Under the UIDDA in Oklahoma and Arkansas, the foreign attorney sends the subpoena directly to the clerk. In Tribal Courts, however, a foreign attorney generally cannot file documents unless they are formally admitted to the Tribal Bar.
In the Cherokee Nation, for example, to file the necessary pleadings to recognize a foreign subpoena, the attorney must usually be a member of the Cherokee Nation Bar Association. While foreign attorneys can typically apply for pro hac vice (for this occasion only) admission, this is not a trivial task. It requires filing a motion, paying a substantial fee, and often securing a sponsoring local attorney who is already a member of the tribal bar to sign the pleadings. Some codes require proof of good standing from the attorney’s home jurisdiction and an oath to abide by tribal law.
Similarly, the Muscogee (Creek) Nation generally requires local counsel or formal pro hac vice admission to file pleadings in the District Court. The Choctaw Nation imposes analogous requirements for admission to practice before its District Court. This requirement essentially resurrects the cost burden of the old letters rogatory system. The litigant must find, retain, and pay an attorney licensed in the specific Tribal Court merely to facilitate the issuance of a subpoena, turning a procedural step into a significant line item in the litigation budget.
Instead of a clerical issuance, the process in Tribal Court often involves filing a new civil action or a miscellaneous petition, functionally identical to the “miscellaneous action” of the pre-UIDDA era.
In the Cherokee Nation, the process involves filing a “Foreign Subpoena” action. The court’s fee schedule indicates a specific filing fee for a “Foreign Subpoena” (typically listed around $50.00, though subject to change). This fee is not merely for a stamp; it initiates a case file. The filing is a petition to the court, asking it to recognize the authority of the foreign state court’s order.
The Muscogee (Creek) Nation shares similar procedures for domesticating subpoenas. Litigants are often required to file an “Application for Foreign Subpoena Duces Tecum & Proposed Order.” The inclusion of a requirement for a “Proposed Order” is telling, as it implies that a judge, not a clerk, must review the application and affirmatively sign an order granting the request. The document has no force until that judicial act occurs. This mirrors the “commission” model, where the state court subpoena is treated merely as a request that must be validated by a tribal judge’s order to have any coercive force within the jurisdiction.
Perhaps the most significant substantive divergence from the UIDDA is the potential for meaningful judicial review at the issuance stage. In the UIDDA model, the clerk issues the subpoena without asking “why” or “is this fair?” In the Tribal/Letters Rogatory model, the court retains the authority to ask precisely those questions.
Tribal codes often contain provisions derived from the “Uniform Act to Secure the Attendance of Witnesses from Without a State in Criminal Proceedings” or similar comity principles for civil cases. These statutes often require a judge to make a finding of fact that the witness is “material and necessary” to the foreign litigation and that compelling them to testify will not cause “undue hardship.”
This can trigger a “Materiality Hearing” or a “Show Cause Hearing.” At this hearing, the Tribal Judge weighs the interests of the state court in obtaining the evidence against the interests of the tribal member in being free from harassment or burden. This is the essence of the letters rogatory discretionary model: the court acts as a protector of its citizens, ensuring that the foreign sovereign’s request is reasonable before lending its power to enforce it.
Further, if the subpoena is directed at the Tribe itself or a tribal official, for instance, seeking internal government documents or testimony regarding tribal operations, the Tribe will almost certainly assert sovereign immunity. Unlike state courts where immunity might be waived for certain types of discovery, Tribal Courts are vigilant guardians of the Tribe’s sovereign status. A state court subpoena cannot pierce tribal sovereign immunity; only a clear, unequivocal waiver by the Tribe or explicit Congressional abrogation can do so. This adds a layer of constitutional complexity that simply does not exist in standard interstate discovery.
The legal engine driving this entire process in Tribal Court is the doctrine of “comity,” and in some specific instances, “full faith and credit.”
“Full Faith and Credit” is a constitutional mandate requiring states to respect the public acts, records, and judicial proceedings of every other state. While some federal statutes, such as the Violence Against Women Act (VAWA) for protection orders or the Indian Child Welfare Act (ICWA) for adoption decrees, mandate that states and tribes give full faith and credit to each other’s orders in those specific contexts, the mandate is less clear for general civil discovery subpoenas.
For the vast majority of general civil discovery requests, such as a deposition in a car crash case or a contract dispute, the request is processed under the doctrine of comity. Comity is a principle of legal reciprocity where one jurisdiction recognizes the laws and judicial decisions of another, not as a matter of obligation, but out of deference and mutual respect. The Tribal Court recognizes the state court’s need for evidence and grants the request, provided it does not violate tribal public policy or prejudice the tribe’s interests.
Because comity is inherently discretionary, the Tribal Judge has the authority to deny the subpoena or modify its scope — a power the Oklahoma state clerk lacks under the UIDDA. This discretion introduces an element of uncertainty into the process that the uniform acts were designed to eliminate.
To clearly illustrate the contrast with the streamlined UIDDA, the following narrative outlines the step-by-step process a litigant must typically navigate to obtain a deposition from a witness located within the jurisdiction of the Cherokee Nation, assuming the Tribe has not adopted the UIDDA.
Step One: Issuance in the Home State. The process begins in the state court, for example, the District Court of Tulsa County. The litigant must obtain a commission or a standard subpoena addressed to the witness in the Cherokee Nation. Under the old rules, this might require a motion and an order from the Tulsa judge, verifying that the witness is necessary.
Step Two: Retain Tribal Counsel. The litigant cannot proceed alone. They must identify and retain an attorney who is licensed to practice before the Cherokee Nation Supreme Court and District Court. This often involves a search for local counsel and the negotiation of a fee agreement, adding significant expense and administrative time to the process.
Step Three: The Tribal Filing. The retained tribal attorney prepares a formal pleading, typically titled a “Petition for Recognition of Foreign Subpoena” or “Application for Foreign Subpoena.” This petition attaches the certified copy of the state court subpoena and explains the nature of the case, the necessity of the testimony, and the legal basis for the request.
Step Four: Fee Payment and Docketing. The attorney files the petition with the Cherokee Nation District Court clerk and pays the required filing fee, which establishes a new civil case number for this discovery matter.
Step Five: Judicial Review. The file is assigned to a Tribal District Judge. The judge reviews the petition. Unlike the state clerk who simply stamps the document, the judge evaluates the request. The judge may sign the “Proposed Order” immediately if the request is routine, or they may set the matter for a hearing.
Step Six: The Hearing (If Required). If a hearing is set, local counsel must appear to argue the motion. The witness or the opposing party may also appear to contest the subpoena on the grounds of hardship, relevance, or privilege. The judge then issues a ruling granting or denying the recognition of the foreign subpoena.
Step Seven: Issuance of the Tribal Subpoena. Upon the Judge’s order, the Tribal Court Clerk issues a Tribal subpoena. It is this document, not the state subpoena, that has legal force on the reservation.
Step Eight: Service of Process. The Tribal subpoena must be served upon the witness. This is usually performed by a tribal marshal or a private process server who is specifically licensed by the Tribe to operate within its jurisdiction.
Step Nine: Enforcement. If the witness fails to appear for the deposition, the state court has no power to send a sheriff onto the reservation to arrest them. The litigant must return to the Tribal Court, filing a motion for contempt or compulsion, and asking the Tribal Judge to enforce the Tribal subpoena.
The divergence between the UIDDA model utilized by Oklahoma and Arkansas and the letters rogatory-style model utilized by the Tribes represents a fundamental schism in civil procedure. On one side of the jurisdictional line lies a market-efficient model designed for speed and low cost; on the other lies a sovereign-protection model designed for oversight and the preservation of jurisdictional integrity.
The cost differential between the two systems is substantial. Under the UIDDA in the state courts, the total cost of obtaining a subpoena is generally limited to the statutory filing fee (often under $100) and the standard fee for a process server. No specialized legal counsel is required, and the attorney time involved is minimal.
In contrast, the Tribal Model imposes a significant financial burden. The cost includes the tribal filing fee and service fees, but these are dwarfed by the cost of legal fees. The litigant must pay the hourly rate of local tribal counsel to draft the petition, file the documents, and appear for any required hearings. If a hearing is contested, the costs can easily escalate into the thousands of dollars for a single deposition.
The temporal contrast is equally striking. The UIDDA process is immediate; as soon as the clerk processes the paperwork, the subpoena is valid and ready for service. The entire process can often be completed in a matter of days.
The Tribal Model, by contrast, is governed by the court’s docket and the availability of the judge. If a judge must review and sign an order, the litigant is subject to the court’s schedule. If a hearing is required, the delay could span weeks or months, potentially stalling the underlying litigation in the state court while the discovery dispute is resolved.
The UIDDA offers a high degree of legal certainty. The statute dictates that the clerk shall issue the subpoena, removing the risk of arbitrary denial. Grounds for quashing are limited to standard discovery objections such as privilege or undue burden, and these are litigated only after the subpoena is issued.
The Tribal Model creates a system of uncertainty. Because it relies on comity, the process is discretionary. A Tribal Judge may recognize the foreign subpoena, but they are not statutorily obligated to do so in the same automatic way. The judge acts as a gatekeeper before the subpoena is even issued, maintaining the power to deny discovery based on broader concepts of tribal jurisdiction, lack of reciprocity, or the protection of tribal interests.
There is irony in the relationship between the states and the Tribes. Because the Oklahoma and Arkansas statutes define “State” to include Tribes, tribal litigants can easily and cheaply extract evidence from the state jurisdictions using the UIDDA. A Cherokee Nation litigant can mail a subpoena to an Oklahoma County clerk and receive an immediate result. However, the Oklahoma litigant cannot do the reverse. This lack of reciprocal ease creates a strategic imbalance in litigation. It forces state practitioners to maintain a nuanced understanding of Federal Indian Law and the specific codes of each Tribe, effectively preserving the “unwieldy, expensive, and time-consuming” nature of the letters rogatory model for a significant portion of the region’s geography.
The adoption of the Uniform Interstate Depositions and Discovery Act by Oklahoma and Arkansas represents the triumph of procedural efficiency over jurisdictional formalism. By converting the foreign subpoena process into a clerical function, these states have acknowledged the reality of a commercially and socially integrated nation where borders should not be barriers to the truth. However, this modernization halts abruptly at the boundaries of Indian Country. The sovereign status of Tribes, reinforced by the McGirt decision and the non-adoption of the UIDDA by tribal councils, necessitates the continued use of the older, commission-based models of discovery.
For the legal practitioner in this region, the “old way” continues to be an unfortunate present reality. While letters rogatory are no longer needed to cross the Arkansas River from Fort Smith to Sequoyah County, they, or their procedural equivalents, are essential to cross the jurisdictional threshold into tribal authority. The result is a dual-track system of discovery: a fast lane for the states, and a toll road for the tribes, maintained by the necessities of sovereignty and the enduring complexities of federal Indian law.