GATINEAU, QUE.—Every political crisis throws up heroes and villains and the showdown provoked by Theresa Spence’s hunger strike and the Idle No More movement is no exception.For some, Spence is still a hero, although her reputation has been tarnished for many Canadians, perhaps unfairly, over revelations of shoddy, if not shady, book-keeping by her Attawapiskat band council.
At first glance, she seems less guilty of playing fast and loose with federal cash than Treasury Board President Tony “Gazebo” Clement. Nor did a recent audit into band financing turn up evidence of the crass palm-greasing that has led to mayoral resignations in Quebec and elsewhere.
Arguably, if there is waste, or nepotism, in Attawapiskat, it is an inevitable consequence of the paternalistic relationship between remote and impoverished First Nations’ communities and their federal funders. Nothing about that blighted outpost makes sense, financial or otherwise.
Nor does Spence, despite her princely $71,000 salary, appear to be living a life of luxury. It’s not as if she is working on her tan with assorted Senators and MPs on some Caribbean beach; she spent Christmas in a teepee on wintry Victoria Island. And she has given First Nations issues a profile and momentum they haven’t had in years.
But, increasingly, she looks more like a sacrificial lamb than a leader, someone driven to desperate measures by frustration rather than self-aggrandizement. Her reputation has been damaged, not only by the audit, but through inexpert media relations and inconsistent demands.
The hero—even if young activists don’t see it this way—is Assembly of First Nations Chief Shawn Atleo. The degree of passion, intelligence, frankness and integrity he has shown would be admirable in any mainstream politician. Indeed, any federal party would be lucky to have him as a candidate.
Atleo scorched a reporter last week who asked if the ejection of a television news team from Attawapiskat was “appropriate.” What about the murder of some 2,000 First Nations women, Atleo shot back, tearing up: “Is that appropriate?”
“Poverty is killing our people,” he said. The Indian Act is a paternalistic throwback, but it is up to indigenous people to devise an alternative not Ottawa. The relationship between Canada’s original inhabitants and government is dysfunctional and urgently needs repair, he insists—arguments he has been making to open microphones and closed ears for three years.
Crucially, Atleo understands the gap between his people and the rest of us—the vast ignorance of most Canadians about land claims, treaty rights, the history and cultural variety, and vitality of indigenous peoples. That ignorance is a barrier to a healthy and respectful relationship, a recipe for continued stalemate.
Among those who emerge from this crisis diminished is Gov.-Gen. David Johnston. He has been alternately invisible, or insensitive to adamant demands that he take up his historic role as protector of First Nations rights.
It will strike many as quaint, even anachronistic, but many native elders insist on the special relationship between the Crown (the Queen and her Canadian representative) and native Canadians. They point to a 1763 covenant signed by King George III that commits the British monarch to ensuring First Nations are not “molested or disturbed in the possession” of their traditional territories and hunting grounds.
In a letter to the Queen, Ontario regional chief Stan Beardy asked that Johnson and Harper meet with chiefs “as a minimal show of respect,” adding that the “profound connection with the British Crown is seen by many First Nations as the ultimate line of defence.”
Yet, throughout the crisis, Johnston has behaved like a junior factotum from the PMO, not a friend of indigenous people. Obviously, the role is ceremonial and without substantial power, but Johnston’s predecessors have provided powerful symbolic support and solace to selected groups.
With Adrienne Clarkson it was the country’s artists and northerners; with Michaelle Jean, it was immigrants and the marginalized. Johnston’s preoccupations have been decidedly less lofty: fitness, universities, and hockey.
If anyone has been less impressive than Johnston, it is aboriginal affairs minister John Duncan— although Prime Minister Stephen Harper has compensated for his minister’s incoherence by playing a careful hand, compromising slightly without ever admitting it.
This crisis will pass, as they all do. The details will fade. But we will remember the players—some with more respect than others.
Original Article
Source: hill times
Author: SUSAN RILEY
No comments:
Post a Comment