Den Tandt, Michael
Wednesday, May 30, 2007 - 00:00
Peterborough Examiner
Editorial - (Part 2 of Michael Den Tandt's examination of Canada's treatment of aboriginals).
The rotten core of the Indian Act, it seems to me, is this single line, clause 20, section 1). "No Indian is lawfully in possession of land in a reserve unless, with the approval of the Minister, possession of the land has been allotted to him by the council of the band."
If you live on a reserve, you don't really own your home, or the land on which it sits. You borrow it - sort of. Perhaps you pass it on to your children, or perhaps you don't. It's not your right to do so.
Communal ownership of property is one of the sacred cows of the aboriginal system in Canada. It's often presented as a morally good thing - a reflection of traditional aboriginal culture, which holds that the earth is a living being, which no human can or should "own."
In practice, it seems to me, communal ownership bars aboriginals on reserves from participating in the single greatest driver of middle-class wealth - the real estate market. Private property is how most of us acquire wealth, and wealth is what gives most of us our excellent standard of living. How is it that this is denied to aboriginal people on reserves?
"Ah, but it's a very different culture," some will say. Really? So is China's. So is India's. No one denies that private property and private initiative have helped pull both those emerging economic giants out of poverty.
In 1969, Indian Affairs Minister Jean Chretien proposed abolishing the Indian Act and ending every form of special status based on race in Canada. You can still read that document, the White Paper, on the Internet. It was couched in the idealistic language of Pierre Trudeau's Just Society. It died because of opposition from the chiefs. In 2003, Indian Affairs Minister Bob Nault tabled the First Nations Governance Act, which would have set new standards for governance and transparency on reserves, and brought reserves under the aegis of the Human Rights Act. That died, because of opposition from the chiefs.
Now, Indian Affairs Minister Jim Prentice is doggedly attempting reforms of his own. He wants to repeal a section of the Human Rights Act that shields band councils and chiefs from human rights complaints by their constituents. And in this year's budget, $300-million was set aside to encourage private home ownership on reserves. Many chiefs, sensing yet another attempt to sideline them, are furious. It's no coincidence that we face a nationwide day of protest on June 29, and the prospect of more blockades.
Is aboriginal anger justified? Certainly. Every Canadian should be furious at how this country's First Peoples have been and are being treated. Will illegal blockades focus public and political attention on the problem? Maybe. More likely though, they will stoke resentment, misunderstanding, anger and, yes, racism, in mainstream Canada. It's difficult to see how an illegal blockade generates political impetus towards any kind of solution.
What would that solution look like?
First, Canadians and Canadian politicians need to face up to this problem. We should come to the table with our chequebook in hand. The Department of Indian Affairs reportedly estimates that its total liability for all claims is $15-billion.
The government of Canada should establish an independent land-claims agency, one with resources and teeth. It should place a stick between its teeth, bite hard, and take the $15-billion hit. Settle the claims, as quickly and fairly as possible. That would be step one.
Step two: Abolish the Indian Act. Create a process, perhaps grandfathered over a period of 20 or even 50 years, that will end all legalized special status for aboriginals in Canada, and end the reserve system as we know it. Create a system that gives reserve land to the people who live on it - as individuals. Give them the right, which all other Canadians have, to sell their property, should they choose to do so.