Forgotten, but not gone

The central quest of Canada’s newly-awakened First Nations activists could hardly be more profound. What they are asking for, in various ways and different languages, is respect, recognition of the injustices they have endured and, amazingly, reconciliation with the non-native majority.

 GATINEAU, QUE.—Their complaints are said to be “nebulous,” their demands—which sound, more often, like pleas—unfocussed, and their political movement random and uncoordinated.

But the central quest of Canada’s newly-awakened First Nations activists could hardly be more profound. What they are asking for, in various ways and different languages, is respect, recognition of the injustices they have endured and, amazingly, reconciliation with the non-native majority.

You’d have to be deaf not to hear that underlying message and heartless not to be moved by the sincerity of a new generation of activists. But these compelling petitioners apparently rank somewhere beneath Chinese pandas on the prime minister’s priority list.

After Idle No More, Theresa Spence’s hunger strike, the inspiring journey of the Nishiyuu (the young Cree walkers from Hudson’s Bay) and impressive native-led resistance to the Northern Gateway pipeline, you might have expected a dawning awareness within the PMO of the opportunity, and menace, represented by this slow-building and still peaceful Red Spring.

Instead, it is hardball as usual. The Conservative government is proudly imposing new financial accountability on reserves over First Nations protests—administering the rough medicine that the Senate is, so far, spared—and stubbornly continuing with plans to gut federal oversight of most rivers and lakes.

Last month’s budget also contained provisions affecting First Nations, including new funding arrangements that some chiefs fear will lessen their control of their own land, with no prior consultation, no chance of appeal.

Of course, this government consults no one. Nor does it hesitate to slam anyone who resists, or questions—the unemployed, dissenting provinces, its own scientists and oversight agencies.

But this reflexive rudeness is tragically inappropriate when responding to First Nations—first because we are talking about some of the poorest and unhealthiest communities in the country, and, second, because their protests have been, with some exceptions, so free of rancour.

There is pain, long-contained anger and keen awareness of historic wrongs. But the Cree walkers, confronted with microphones when they ended their journey on Parliament Hill, talked haltingly, movingly, of losing a brother, a baby, of battling addiction or depression. To the consternation of the political class, there were no explicit policy “demands.”

Even Manitoba Elder Raymond Robinson, who accompanied Spence on her Christmas fast and is now threatening to renounce food and water until Prime Minister Stephen Harper meets with native leaders, communicates frustration leavened by hope, rather than blind outrage.

When he and Spence ended their protest in January, he made an extraordinary appeal to other Canadians: “Can’t you just leave us alone? Can’t we just be ordinary people in this land? Can’t we have the same opportunities you guys have on a daily basis? Can’t we learn to get along?”

This time Robinson does have demands, both specific and profound. “Start treating us with the respect we deserve,” he said last week. What he wants, particularly, is that promised, long-delayed meeting between Harper and native chiefs. “If Harper opens the door, gives a call to my national chief, then it will stop. That’s all it will take. I’m not asking for much.”

And he isn’t; not many ransom notes demand respectful engagement.

Harper showed rare sensitivity and genuine emotion when he apologized to victims of residential schools in 2008. He has also replaced his tone-deaf aboriginal affairs minister, John Duncan, with the more genial Bernard Valcourt—who met with the Nishiyuu walkers and with Robinson.

But when it comes to this file, Harper’s current pre-occupation appears to be removing all environmental obstacles to his pipeline dreams—including native protests. That, and clamping down on corrupt band councils. His government is even challenging the previous consensus that First Nations students are under-funded compared to the national average.

A simple change in tone, genuine respect rather than paternalistic lectures, would not be enough to resolve an historically fraught and complicated relationship involving several nations with different agendas and experiences. (Some native activists, for instance, are critical or scornful of Robinson’s gesture. To others, he embodies the dignity and resolve of moral heroes like Nelson Mandela or Martin Luther King.)

But respect would be a start. To their immense credit—evidence of their patience, perhaps, or their powerlessness—many native youth and elders have not given up hope for a healthier, more equal relationship with the rest of Canada.

To respond, as our government has so far, with indifference, or icy disapproval, is callous and stunningly short-sighted. And a disservice to all of us.


Original Article
Source: hilltimes.com
Author:  SUSAN RILEY