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The Indian industry
must be one of the most lucrative in Canada for all its stakeholders except for
the working stiffs who fund it but have no say in its dealings. And, oddly enough,
for most natives who are supposed to benefit from it. Most aggrieved, however,
are Canadians who pay for the cradle-to-grave entitlements natives have; a
dependence which in turn perpetuates decay, for which Canadians are blamed, but must continue to pay, or so the chorus of taxpayer-funded lawyers,
consultants, politicians, and native leaders tell them.
Unlike other
Canadians, Indians and Inuit are the recipients of approximately $7 billion
doled out annually by government. It is from these fiscal transfers that
aboriginal organizations derive their incomes, as well as from gas and oil
royalties, land claim settlements and the taxation of non-Indians. A livelihood,
notes Prof. Tom Flanagan, "that is not earned by working for it."
This, together with an immobilizing culture of grievance and blame, forms part
of the pathology. Witness the thousands of natives gathered of late to register
for the class action residential school bonanza. Some have legitimate cases of
sexual abuse to pursue; others have led unhappy lives and wish to make the
schools the repository for issues better resolved on the therapist's sofa.
Indeed, all roads for
natives lead to the Courts, especially when it comes to land claims. Bands know
that the supreme powers lie with the judges when it comes to aboriginal law. The
Lamer Court, explains Fraser Institute scholar Gordon Gibson, "used
Section 35 of the Constitution with abandon…plucking concepts out of academic
text books or thin air, in order to build up a new and free standing doctrine of
aboriginal law uninformed by precedent or reality". Section 35 entrenches
special aboriginal treaty privileges, and is not subject to the balancing
actions of Section 1 of the Constitution, nor the notwithstanding clause.
One British columbian
(BC) band, the Sechelt, is leading the litigious way. The band has walked away
from a signed agreement in principle, hailed by all, including the opposition
party, as an exemplar of what the treaty process should be like. Appetites whet
doubtless by the introduction of the Nisga'a gold standard, Sechelt chief, Garry
Feschuk, declared, "we were not getting enough". The Nisga'a treaty,
which was ratified by Victoria and Ottawa without a say from Canadians, cost
$490 million, a sum which does not include estimations of minerals, water,
fisheries, third party compensation, or the extra $4oo million that taxpayers
will transfer to the Nisga'a government over the next 15 years. A province that
rejected the Charlottetown Accord by 70 percent has been forced to support a
deal that arrogates federal and provincial powers to the band, and makes the
rights of non-Nisga'a living on Nisga'a land subject to the goodness of the
reigning Indian fiefdom. Like all treaties, this one is locked into the
constitution by virtue of Section 35. In the wings await 50-60 BC native bands
eager for the same, making an estimation by R.M. Richardson and Associates that
pegged the cost of treaty making in BC at $40 billion seem fair.
In Alberta, natives
are restless as well. Five of the Treaty 7 bands have launched a lawsuit seeking
to claim title over natural resources such as oil and gas, minerals and timber.
One of these bands, the Siksika, has made a bid for Castle Mountain, a region in
the Banff National Park. Before heading for the courts, the Siksika hastened to
rekindle title by displaying their spiritual attachment to the place. For in the
courts of the nation every bit of folklore-inspired evidence counts. Did not the
Supreme Court of Canada in the landmark "Delgamuukw" confirm that
evidence of continual occupancy can consist of myths, legends and other oral
hand-me-downs?
Title or ownership
should have been conferred originally to the degree to which homesteading, or a
transformation of material goods with native labor had occurred on contested
land. But the willy-nilly transfer of wealth to natives has never followed the
logic of homesteading. Instead, asserting some traditional affinity over vast
stretches of land is legally accepted.
Ultimately, the
successful reinvigoration of a community's cultural identity must lie with that
community alone. As it stands, Canadian society is entrusted with sustaining
natives and their culture, and blamed for the inevitable atrophy such an
arrangement breeds. Natives with survival instincts can still extricate
themselves from tribal settings where property is held in common and powers rest
with a central elite. But Canadians cannot escape the shakedown.
©2000 Ilana Mercer
The
Calgary Herald
July 13
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