A memo to Canada: Indigenous people are

not your incompetent children

Alicia Edwards 2018
The Globe and Mail

The election of Justin Trudeau's Liberal government was supposed to signal a new
'nation-to-nation relationship.' But until the country recognizes the right to self-
determination and acknowledges the sovereignty of Indigenous nations, argues Alicia
Elliott, the future will be the same as the past

W hen my sister and I were in high school, we thought it was funny to tell our

non-Native boyfriends ridiculous things about the rez and see what they believed. We
lived on the Six Nations reserve about 25 kilometres southwest of Hamilton, but
since the only high school on the rez was Mohawk immersion, and we didn't speak
the language, that meant we had to catch the bus into nearby Brantford, Ont. Even
though our rez was just a 20-minute drive away, very few of the non-Native kids we
went to high school with had ever been there – the exception, of course, being those
whose parents considered cheap cigarettes and gas worth the trek. In other words,
most of these kids knew nothing about the rez, or us.
One day, my sister, Missy, was talking to her white boyfriend online. When he asked
if she could come over, Missy fired back with, "Sorry, can't. The gates to the rez close
at night. :(" When he responded, "That sucks. Maybe tomorrow?", we were
incredulous. How could he be so gullible? We laughed and laughed.
I've been thinking a lot about our laughter lately.

I remember thinking that her white boyfriend was so ignorant, but we didn't know
about the Pass System, which was in effect for 60 years in Canada, and required
Native people living on the reserve to get permission from a Canadian Indian Agent
to leave. Who needs literal gates when you have racist bureaucracy and the Indian
Act?
What my sister and I didn't consider back then – what we perhaps couldn't consider
– was how readily her boyfriend accepted this lie when it was applied to Native
people. If she had said the same thing about a non-Native town, he probably
wouldn't have believed it. But something about the way this young man was
socialized – even though he grew up right next to a rez, even though he interacted
with Native people – made him accept that injustice against our people was normal:
that there would be gates to get into the rez, that those gates would close and that,
like zoo animals, we would be trapped there until daylight when our keepers let us
out. That we would be subjected to whatever form of control or governance Canada
chose to impose on us, and that our opinions and consent were not required to do so.
Perhaps, on that last point, he wasn't so ignorant after all.
Canada has never accepted Indigenous peoples' right to self-determination. In fact,
they – the individuals who, throughout history, have represented and made decisions
on behalf of Canada – have actively suppressed it. By intentionally cutting essential
funding at critical moments, wielding court injunctions to stop our land defenders
and legislating the minutiae of our lives through the Indian Act, to name just a few
examples, the Canadian government continually prevents us from creating
meaningful change in our communities. It stops us from determining our own
present and forging our own future. And like every decision Canada makes about us,
without us, we're supposed to smile and accept these arrangements, or laugh
defensively, or, better yet, do nothing – regardless of how it affects our families and
our lives.

This is a story of how one decision illustrates the centuries-long relationship between
a country's government and the Indigenous people of that land. It is a story of a name
change and the breaking-up of a government department, but it represents the
breaking of a promise, too. It is a story that illustrates how a government that only
acknowledges colonial ways of governing cannot ever hope to create anything else. It
is a story whose narrative affects every Indigenous community, including my own,
the Six Nations of the Grand River. It is a story of denial, and of consent, two topics
that are in the news these days for reasons that are, in some ways, not that different.
It is a story whose ending has not yet been written, but one whose ending I fear will
not be any more satisfactory than any story Canada has told about us.
This is our democracy. This is our reconciliation. What a way to start a new "nation-
to-nation" relationship.
THE NAME GAME

I n August, 2017, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau surprised almost everyone by

announcing that the Department of Indigenous and Northern Affairs Canada (INAC)
was not only being dismantled, but was to be replaced with two new departments:
Crown-Indigenous Relations and Northern Affairs, and Indigenous Services. As the
days passed, it became clear that among those surprised by the news were national
Indigenous organizations such as the Assembly of First Nations and the National
Women's Association of Canada, elected band councils (who need INAC to approve
everything they do before they can actually do it), traditional councils (who have yet
to be acknowledged by Canada), even members of Health Canada and other
departments whose funding and organizational makeup will be directly affected.
Basically, everyone who should have known that this was coming was completely
caught off guard.

Even more ridiculous, they announced this decision while condemning the "colonial,
paternalistic" nature of INAC and the Indian Act – as if deciding what was best for us
without asking our input wasn't reenacting the same colonial, paternalistic attitude
displayed by the decades of government that preceded them.

Many of the Liberal government's supposedly momentous announcements seem to

be little more than repackaged versions of old policies. On Dec. 6, Indigenous
Services Minister Jane Philpott announced that First Nations with solid financial
track records are now eligible for guaranteed 10-year funding – a move this
newspaper celebrated in a recent editorial. This announcement essentially admits the
status quo for First Nations communities under the Indian Act has been hundreds of
years of insecure and unstable funding. How can a community plan for the future
when it never knows if it's getting the meagre resources Canada has promised? Is it
any surprise, then, that one-quarter of First Nations have become so indebted they've
been put under third-party management? Or that many communities cannot get off
third-party management once they're there? After all, these organizations – which
Canada forces First Nations to hire without offering any additional funding to pay for
their services – do not have to report to Canada on their progress. This gives them no
incentive to get communities out of debt and makes them unaccountable to the very
communities Canada forces to pay their salaries. By ignoring these realities, Ms.
Philpott implies that only good, financially responsible communities deserve even
the possibility of stable and guaranteed funding, furthering the "corrupt Indian chief"
stereotype Stephen Harper trotted out before her. This is not real change. This is
stasis, rebranded as revolution.

Aug. 28, 2017: Prime Minister Justin Trudeau congratulates Jane Philpott at a
swearing-in ceremony at Rideau Hall in Ottawa. In a cabinet shuffle, Ms. Philpott
was given the newly created Indigenous Services portfolio.ADRIAN WYLD/THE
CANADIAN PRESS
 In the cabinet shuffle, Carolyn Bennett was appointed Crown-Indigenous
Relations and Northern Affairs Minister.FRED CHARTRAND/THE CANADIAN
PRESS

When the INAC split was announced, Mik'maq lawyer, activist and politician Pam
Palmater wondered in a CBC interview if the move "isn't more superficiality and less
substance," noting "there seems to be a lot of name changes and terminology changes
and announcements out of this government." I would be remiss if I didn't mention
that name changes and department restructuring have a long history with INAC,
probably because it's such an easy, superficial way to signal change where none
actually exists. Before Canadian Confederation, the department was originally known
as the British Indian Department. Then, when Indians officially became Canada's
problem, it was called "Indian Affairs." Between 1860-1966, Indian Affairs was made
the responsibility of the snappily named "Crown Lands Department Commissions
Responsible for Indian Affairs," followed by the equally snappy "Secretary of State
for the Provinces Responsible for Indian Affairs." Various other ministers had Indian
Affairs stuffed into their portfolio during that time, including the Minister of the
Interior and – if one can believe it – the Minister of Citizenship and Immigration.
The Department of Indian Affairs and Northern Development wasn't even its own
department until 1966. In 2011, the department began referring to itself as
"Aboriginal Affairs and Northern Development Canada," and, four years later, thanks
to Mr. Trudeau's symbol-loving Liberals, the name changed again to "Indigenous
Affairs and Northern Development." Although Indian Affairs has had to report to
numerous people and departments throughout its history, it certainly has never had
to report to Indigenous people. That lack of accountability and responsibility has
continued for more than 150 years, unchecked.

That's the problem, though: Canada's attitude towards Indigenous people has never
changed. In the eighties – the same time Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau was
enshrining "multiculturalism" in the Constitution – Indigenous activists had to fight
tooth-and-nail for their voices to be heard. Their hard work eventually prevailed,
though, and Canada agreed to include Section 35 in the Constitution, legally
enshrining recognition and affirmation of Indigenous rights. Although this has been
part of the national Constitution for 35 years, it has not been seriously acted upon by
Canada. There have been no moves to change the Indian Act in a way that reflects the
Indigenous right to both self-government and self-determination entrenched in
Section 35. No moves to right the disproportionate way that Canada has grossly
underfunded Indigenous nations while making billions of dollars exploiting their
land and resources, ignoring treaties or, in the case of the entire province of British
Columbia, ignoring the astounding lack of treaties. There has only recently been
acknowledgment of how, despite public apologies and Gord Downie-branded
"Reconciliation Rooms" at steakhouses, Canada continues the policies of residential
schools today, with Child and Family Services taking more Indigenous children from
their families than attended residential schools when they were at their height.
All of these things are done without consulting us, without asking for our consent.
Despite Mr. Trudeau's claims to want to stop the paternalism, Canada's approach to
Indigenous people has always been akin to that of a paternal head of house in a fifties
sitcom: Father knows best.
The recent penchant for symbolic change can only be viewed as superficial. This is
the undiscussed problem with "political correctness": complying with the rather
small request to change terminology has been used to shield racist institutions from
harsh, necessary criticisms. By making shallow "politically correct" changes – for
example, going from "Indian Affairs" to "Aboriginal Affairs," or "Aboriginal Affairs"
to "Indigenous Affairs" – these institutions appear as though they are making real
change.

But if their structure, attitudes and policies don't reflect that desire, then what good
is their political correctness?

If you're refusing to let my community enact our inherent right to self-determination

and self-government, while intentionally underfunding the services we rely on to
survive, it hardly matters if you call us "Indians" or "Indigenous peoples." We know
what you mean.
PHOTO: JUSTIN TANG/THE CANADIAN PRESS
BROKEN PROMISES

H ere's what's even more galling: While Mr. Trudeau made sure to mention that

splitting INAC was one of the 440 recommendations in the Royal Commission on
Aboriginal Peoples (RCAP), a comprehensive report that was originally released
more than 20 years ago, he ignored some key information. For instance, there was no
word on the numerous RCAP recommendations that were supposed to be
implemented alongside the splitting of INAC. A Royal Proclamation outlining the
new relationship between Canada and Indigenous peoples was recommended. New
legislation that would clearly lay out Canada's intention to create new treaties with
Indigenous nations, which would form the basis for all true nation-to-nation
relationships going forward. Perhaps most importantly, there was supposed to be
financial and structural support for Indigenous nations to transition from dependent
band councils to independent self-government. All of these recommendations were
supposed to be enacted concurrently. If they didn't, there would be no real structural
change, and meaningful gestures would become nothing more than inadequate,
misleading symbols.

And, of course, Mr. Trudeau neglected to mention that, in the same section RCAP
suggests splitting INAC, it admits one of INAC's biggest problems has been its
"tendency to move relatively quickly on policy initiatives without adequate
consultation with those affected." It would seem this version of INAC has decided
they can make changes without consulting those affected at all. For a government
that claims that they want to fully implement the United Nations Declaration on the
Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP), this type of negligence makes one wonder if
they've even read it. Articles 3 and 4 assert Indigenous peoples' right to self-
determination, particularly in regards to self-government. Article 18 specifically
states, "Indigenous peoples have the right to participate in decision-making in
matters which would affect their rights, through representatives chosen by
themselves in accordance with their own procedures." If the splitting of INAC is not
merely a cosmetic change, as new Crown-Indigenous Relations and Northern Affairs
Minister Carolyn Bennett insists it is not, then the fact that no Indigenous people
were consulted is even more puzzling. How can they claim they want to implement
UNDRIP one day, then completely disregard at least three of its articles the next?
How can this government make bold statements about "nation-to-nation"
relationships when the only nation whose opinion they will consider is their own?
It's obvious the Liberal government sees splitting INAC as the next bureaucratic step
on the path to truth and reconciliation. Indeed, Ms. Bennett once referred to herself
as the "Minister of Reconciliation." But what kind of reconciliation is possible when
Canada chooses all the terms, refusing to give Indigenous people the chance to
propose any terms ourselves? What kind of "nation-to-nation" relationship can be
built when Canada refuses to acknowledge the traditional governments of our
nations – governing bodies that we chose? When they underfund, undermine and
ignore the same band councils they forcefully imposed through the Indian Act? When
they require every decision band councils make to be approved by INAC before they
can be enacted?

Considering how many disastrous decisions this government has made on

Indigenous peoples' behalf, why should we trust them now? They've put in place a
faltering Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls Inquiry; refused to
meet three compliance orders from the Canadian Human Rights Tribunal to stop
discriminating against Indigenous children; approved the Site C dam, the Kinder
Morgan Trans Mountain expansion and Enbridge's Line 3 pipeline despite
Indigenous nations' protests; refused to correct gender discrimination in the Indian
Act until faced with massive pressure from the Senate; and have yet to significantly
address Indigenous people being found dead in Thunder Bay's waterways on an
increasingly regular basis. To suggest they've come even close to delivering on their
campaign promise to build new "nation-to-nation" relationships with Indigenous
peoples thus far would be, frankly, delusional.

To complicate things further, many Canadians seem to place unfair expectations on

Indigenous people. There is an alarming tendency to consider 634 distinct
Indigenous nations as one homogeneous group with some sort of hive mind. When
Indigenous people have different opinions or needs or preferences, this illusion is
shattered, leaving those non-Indigenous Canadians strangely confused. This makes
discussion of self-government difficult. For example, one Indigenous nation might
want to keep their elected band council, while another might look to transition to a
more traditional governance structure. Both are valid exercises of self-determination.
Supporting self-government for Indigenous peoples requires there to be space for
these types of differences – a nuance that is discussed at length within the very pages
of RCAP. There is no need for all of us to agree in order for all of us to be respected.
I'm unsure, though, that Canada can make this sort of distinction. It has always
relied upon colonial repression of Indigenous peoples for its land, wealth and power.
It has always treated us as one indistinguishable group. How, then, can Canada ever
be okay with Indigenous self-governance and self-determination?

1838: Joseph Brant, or Thayendanegea. By the early 19th century, Brant was
already facing Canadian denial of the promises made to the Haudenosaunee as
allies of the Crown.LIBRARY OF CONGRESS

1898: Chiefs of the Haudenosaunee Confederacy’s central government meet at

Grand River. In the 1920s, the Canadian government installed its own Indian Act
band council at Six Nations by force. The INAC-approved, elected band council
has been in tension for decades with the traditional Haudenosaunee Confederacy
Chiefs Council over land and governance.
1948: Six Nations representatives hold up a copy of the Haldimand Treaty of
1784, which they used to press Ottawa for compensation for lands taken or
flooded in the building of the Welland and Grand River canals in the 1830s. The
treaty promised land on the Grand River to the Haudenosaunee for helping the
British during the American Revolution.HANDOUT
1984: Queen Elizabeth II greets children at Her Majesty’s Chapel of the Mohawks
near Brantford, Ont. The chapel was built in 1785, a year after the Haldimand
Treaty was signed. In 2010, the Queen would reaffirm the Silver Covenant Chain
treaty made with the Haudenosaunee in the 17th century. Canada has so far
failed in its obligations to uphold that treaty.ERIK CHRISTENSEN/THE GLOBE
AND MAIL
 2008: A sign on the road to Six Nations. The reserve has the lowest voter turnout
of any in the country, 5 per cent, as friction continues between elected band
leaders and the traditional council.JULIE GORDON/REUTERS

A CONDENSED HISTORY OF CANADIAN DENIAL

W hile we're arbitrarily changing terminology, let's shift our focus from truth

and reconciliation to denial and consent.

In her newest book, My Conversations with Canadians, Lee Maracle writes, "To be a
white Canadian is to be sunk in deep denial." I personally wouldn't let Canadians of
colour off the colonial hook so easily, as I've witnessed some rather fantastical takes
on Indigeneity by people of colour, too, but I agree that there is something about
Canadian identity that seems to require a sort of colonial amnesia. Quite simply,
Canadians know very little about their own history. As far as I can tell, that denial of
history has always characterized Canada's engagement with Indigenous peoples. And
when Canada can no longer deny its history, a slightly different denial takes effect: 1)
denial that horrific actions Canada has enforced over the course of its history have
had any measurable effect on the present, and 2) denial that those horrific actions
are still happening today, albeit in different forms.
The following is a brief summary of some of the distinctly Canadian denial I'm aware
of. To be clear, there are 634 Indigenous nations in Canada, each of which have their
own specific histories with the Crown. As I mentioned, I am a Tuscarora woman of
the Haudenosaunee Confederacy, and I come from the Six Nations of the Grand
River community specifically – so I can only speak about my own community's
tumultuous relationship with the Crown.

First and foremost, there's the denial of the treaties that form the foundation of
Canada. For my people, that includes the Two Row Wampum, which was originally
made with the Dutch, but the British Crown accepted and passed down to Canada to
uphold. It was a friendship treaty, which affirmed that while the Haudenosaunee
went down the river of life in a canoe, and Canada went down the river of life in its
boat, they would remain on peaceful parallel paths, neither nation interfering with
the culture, religion, government or affairs of the other. Obviously, Canada failed in
its obligations to uphold that treaty, or any other treaty, including the Silver
Covenant Chain Wampum, which was accepted in the 17th century and is one of the
oldest legal agreements in this country.

Almost the entire Haudenosaunee Confederacy supported the British during the
American Revolution (the Oneidas sided with the Americans). Although Mohawk
Chief Joseph Brant led many successful battles against the Americans, when the
British Crown was negotiating their surrender with the Americans, they did not
consult with their Haudenosaunee allies. Instead, they gave away Mohawk territory
that was not theirs to give. On top of that, many other Haudenosaunee nations had
their towns burned down by the Americans during the war. As restitution, the 1784
Haldimand Proclamation granted six miles of land on either side of the Grand River
to the Haudenosaunee for their service as allies to the Crown. By 1819, however,
Chief Joseph Brant was already facing Canadian denial, having to tell a council, "We
are surprised to find that [the] Government says that we own the Lands to the Falls
[modern day Elora, Ont.] only as we have the Writings to prove otherwise." Another
problem was the number of settlers who squatted on Haudenosaunee lands. Canada
continued to assure the Confederacy it would put a stop to this – as long as they
signed over more of their land. While Canada got the land it wanted, it delivered
nothing that was promised.

In the early 1920s, Cayuga Chief Deskaheh (Levi General) went to the League of
Nations, the forerunner of the United Nations, on a Haudenosaunee passport to
argue for our confederacy's sovereignty from Canada. The Canadian government,
embarrassed, used international pressure to sway the growing support for his cause.
In addition, the RCMP put pressure on our people by building a barracks on Six
Nations, searching homes and prohibiting any Indians from cutting wood on their
own lands. Less than a year later, while Deskaheh stayed in Geneva to try to gain an
audience with the League, the Canadian government planned a coup of the
traditional Haudenosaunee Confederacy Chiefs Council (HCCC). The RCMP forced
our chiefs out by gunpoint, stole our wampum belts, organized an election and
installed the Indian Act band council with only 56 votes. They couldn't even find 12
people willing to run for office without relying on those already employed by the
Canadian government.

Meanwhile, 800 Six Nations residents signed a resolution opposing Canada's clear
violation of the Two Row Wampum. Canada denied their voices. This was the
"democracy" that Canada imposed on my community.

Today on Six Nations, the tension between the elected band council and the
traditional Haudenosaunee Confederacy Chiefs Council (HCCC) is stronger than
ever. Six Nations continues to have the lowest voter turnout of any reserve in Canada
at 5 per cent. Despite this lack of public support, the elected council has recently been
fighting the HCCC for jurisdiction over the Burtch Tract. During the 2006 land
reclamation of Kanonhstaton (Douglas Creek Estates), a team of HCCC chiefs led by
Mohawk Chief Allen McNaughton negotiated the Burtch Tract back to Six Nations.
After more than 10 years of waiting, the province of Ontario did not get in contact
with the Confederacy to make arrangements for the land; it instead instructed the
elected band council to set up a numbered company to hold the land in trust.
While the Confederacy had been leasing land to local farmer Kris Hill and others for
years, the elected band council said nothing about their apparent moves to claim
ownership of the land. Not until this past summer, when they issued an injunction
against her, which the Ontario Provincial Court upheld. Now, the Six Nations elected
band council is seeking $5-million from Ms. Hill, a community member who has
donated more than $45,000 to local schools and organizations that have been hung
out to dry by INAC.

This move by Ontario – to deliver land to the band council instead of the
Haudenosaunee Confederacy Chiefs Council that it originally negotiated with – has
divided the community further, culminating in a month-long blockade that remained
peaceful until it was removed by the Ontario Provincial Police (OPP) in early
September. Both Ontario and Canada deny any responsibility for creating or fuelling
this division. In August, Carey Marsden, spokeswoman for the Ontario Ministry of
Indigenous Relations and Reconciliation, said Ontario had "honoured their
commitment" to Six Nations, adding, "We remain hopeful that all parties will be able
to work together in a spirit of mutual respect to ensure the land benefits all the
people of Six Nations." The federal government has remained quiet on the issue, with
Mr. Trudeau, for all his talk of "nation-to-nation" relationships, choosing to bypass
the area entirely instead of engaging with protesters when he was in nearby
Hamilton this summer.
Considering the long-standing history my people have had as allies of the Crown, and
the fact that what was once INAC is now called "Crown-Indigenous Relations and
Northern Affairs," I reached out to the department to ask when they will be re-
establishing their historic relationship with our traditional government. In 2010, the
Queen herself reaffirmed the Silver Covenant Chain Treaty with my people, so I was
curious how this would manifest in future nation-to-nation relationships. What role
would band council play? After all, RCAP admits that "Indian Act band
governments… are perceived as a form of self-government; but in fact they are a form
of self-administration, not self-government." Or, as Ms. Maracle more bluntly puts it
in her latest book: "We do not get to elect our own government. You [Canadians]
elect our government. We elect a band council that is beholden to your government,
the Canadian government."

While spokesman James Fitz-Morris said, "It is up to communities to decide for

themselves who represents them. Our government is committed to hearing from all
partners," he also ignored Canada's role in dividing my community specifically, and
made no statement about how Canada could repair the damaged relationship. "As
you know," he wrote, "there is a dispute with in the [Six Nations] community over
representation – our government doesn't want to interfere in this internal
discussion." And there it was again, more evident and embarrassing than ever:
denial. How can you claim to be fostering Crown-Indigenous relations if you refuse
to do the hard work of repairing those relations? If you don't even acknowledge the
problems that arose when INAC overthrew my traditional government in 1924?
Where is the reconciliation for that?

Opinion: Indigenous nationhood can save the world

For centuries, the Westphalian nation-state has fuelled a cycle of greed,

protectionism and violence – and Indigenous people are still resisting that legacy
today, Niigaan Sinclair writes.

ECONOMIES OF CONSENT

T his is where consent comes in. This is a particularly interesting time to be

discussing consent, considering the many allegations of sexual assault and

harassment that have recently come to light. I don't think these conversations –
between consent for sex and consent for land – are unrelated. There is a reason the
land gets compared to a woman, mother nature. There is a reason the colonial
treatment of land is often referred to as rape. Indigenous peoples are responsible for
the care and maintenance of the land. We have always been conscious of concepts the
West has only recently taken on, such conservation and environmentalism. Yet
Indigenous peoples' consent has never been a prerequisite for any of Canada's
actions in regards to the lands we have historically cared for, lands we consider part
of us. There is a duty to "consult and accommodate" Indigenous peoples in decisions
that affect us or our Treaty rights, but there is no legal obligation for our nations to
consent. Are we allowed, then, to say no? Or are we trapped in situations in which
our "no" will be ignored regardless, leaving us with the difficult task of finding a way
to make our pain as bearable as possible?

Actor, writer and producer Brit Marling recently wrote about the economies of
consent, claiming that women who are preyed upon by men such as Harvey
Weinstein exist in "a grey zone where words like 'consent' cannot fully capture the
complexity of the encounter." Consent, Ms. Marling argues, "is a function of power.
You have to have a modicum of power to give it." When your very livelihood depends
on saying yes to something you don't want, how much of a choice do you really have?
Canada has often relied upon tactics such as this to get Indigenous people to fall in
line – everything from taking our children, to starving us, to killing us, to outlawing
our ways of life. Even Canada's modern day treaties, such as those being signed in
B.C., act to disempower the nations they are negotiating with. As Arthur Manuel
details in his book Unsettling Canada: A National Wake-Up Call, by signing any deal
with Canada, an Indigenous nation is relinquishing title of their lands to Canada, a
certain amount of which Canada then agrees to graciously give back to them. Canada
also requires Indigenous nations to pay for their own lawyers during negotiations,
which means that much of the financial settlement that is ultimately agreed upon
goes straight into lawyers' pockets, never reaching the Indigenous community it is
supposed to benefit.

How can Indigenous people fight this? In the courts? That hasn't worked out well for
the Ktunaxa. The Supreme Court of Canada recently ruled that a Jumbo Valley, B.C.
ski resort had more right to the Qat'muk area than the Ktunaxa, who were concerned
that the Grizzly Bear Spirit, an essential part of their religion, would leave if the
development went through.

Can Indigenous people fight by protesting? Considering the way land defender and
Inuk grandmother Beatrice Hunter was jailed in a men's prison last year, and told to
stay away from her peoples' land as part of her initial bail conditions, that doesn't
seem likely. When Canada takes away all avenues with which we can say no, it
disempowers us and makes our consent both unnecessary and unimportant, the
same way all predator make the consent of their victims unnecessary and
unimportant.

How can you know someone considers you a person if you can't say no? How can you
know a nation considers your traditional governance a nation if you can't say no? If
you aren't even acknowledged?
THE RIGHT TO RECONCILIATION

T here are some hopeful signs, such as the Liberal government's decision to set up

a law and policy review to ensure that all laws and policies in Canada align with
Section 35, UNDRIP and what Mr. Fitz-Morris calls "our commitment to a new
relationship." This was a point AFN National Chief Perry Bellegarde was particularly
optimistic about, saying he hopes it will be an important move "towards recognition
of rights and title, not termination of rights and title." Considering Kahnawake
Mohawk policy analyst, writer and activist Russ Diabo has famously referred to
modern-day treaty negotiation tables as "termination tables," it is obvious Canada
still has a very long way to go.

I, however, remain less optimistic. The Hill Times recently reported that Minister
Bennett will lead six months of consultations with "Indigenous stakeholders on how
to restructure the government's approach to Indigenous affairs ahead of the tabling
of legislation to dissolve INAC and create two new departments." When I asked Mr.
Fitz-Morris what Indigenous nations, groups, organizations and people would be
consulted, he replied vaguely: "Minister Bennett is discussing this issue with literally
every community, elder, chief, Indigenous person, and expert she meets. These will
be broad consultations."

Since the office of Crown-Indigenous relations apparently doesn't want to interfere

with "internal issues" in my community, I wonder whether Ms. Bennett will be
discussing anything with members of my community – or any community that has
so-called "internal issues." It's funny, though, that my community is considered too
fractured and divided to discuss, while Canada itself has four different major political
parties with vastly different ideologies. Canadian MPs have been known to heckle
and swear at one another in Parliament, nearly erupt in fist fights and even, last year,
block other MPs from moving (try as we might to forget "elbowgate"). These certainly
don't indicate a unified government, moving in perfect harmony. One might even
refer to them as internal issues, but I suppose, since this isn't Indigenous government
we're talking about, we're supposed to deny that as well.

The most frustrating part of this conversation is that Canada has known what a
respectful nation-to-nation relationship should look like for hundreds of years. It was
laid out clearly in the Two Row Wampum, the first treaty that Canada ever accepted.
Unfortunately, Canada has continually failed its treaty obligation to respect
Indigenous nations' right to steer our own canoes, instead choosing to high-jack
them and pilot us towards destruction. Where Canada has steered us has made it
difficult for our nations to get back on the right path – to regain control of our own
canoes, our own destinies. But we will get there. The fact that I'm even here to write
this is evidence of that.
But before we can regain control of our destinies, before we can engage in nation-to-
nation relationships, or give empowered and informed consent, Canada needs to get
out of our canoe already and focus on its own boat – which, to be honest, has more
than its share of issues. The Canadian government will need to say in no uncertain
terms that band councils are not required for our people to have discussions with
their leaders. They will need to say that they support Indigenous communities' right
to determine our own governance, and will respect our decisions. And, most
importantly, they will need to acknowledge the Indigenous nations of this land are
sovereign nations, respect us as sovereign nations and consult and negotiate with us
as sovereign nations. Anything less is politically correct posturing.
The way I see it, the Canadian government needs to earn its right to discuss
reconciliation – and that won't happen until attitudes change. Canada has to stop its
habit of national denial and acknowledge our peoples' right to consent, our right to
say no – even if that "no" interferes with Canadian politicians' and powerful
companies' plans. We need assurance that Canada won't pull our communities'
funding if we do say no; that it won't punish us with third-party management as it
continues to underfund essential services; that it will give us the opportunity to
develop our economies and communities so we don't need to rely on the Canadian
government for anything again. Instead of viewing us as incompetent children,
Canada needs to view us as equal partners – and from there, we can work together
towards common, mutually beneficial goals. That is a nation-to-nation relationship.
That is something I can be proud to pass on to my child, and her children, and their
children after that. It's something Canada can be proud to pass on, too.