12 July 2007
by BRUCE STRACHAN
Citizen columnist
Prince George Citizen
We all believe in equal opportunity, right? Right. How about equal opportunities for aboriginals? Well, of course, you say. How about the equal opportunity for aboriginal people and bands to compete in the Canadian and British Columbian economy? Again, the answer is a resounding yes.
But, drive this line of questioning into the cold, hard light of economic reality and you’ll soon hear some native leaders and guilt-trip politicians asking, shouldn’t we spend millions every year to prop up natives? Don’t our aboriginal citizens deserve special status?
Quite frankly, I think special status for Canada’s natives is, and was, the worst policy we could have adopted as a young and developing nation in a new land.
Special status led to the 1880s establishment of residential schools; a subtle form of ethnic cleansing, with the stated objective of destroying spirit and heritage.
Special status led to the establishment of Indian Reserves. Out-of-the-way, out-of-sight ghettoes, many now suffering serious sanitation and other health-related problems, along with high unemployment, and in many cases, corrupt leadership. As a young native man once told me, “Reserves are full of dead cars, dead dogs and dead futures.”
As Canada developed, aboriginals were consigned to reserves and prohibited from participating in the Homestead Act or any other government land-tenure programs.
In B.C., non-native homesteaders had the right to a quarter section of land, while natives were limited to 10 acres.
The indignity of special status continued, and I bet there are many young readers out there who don’t know status aboriginals in Canada didn’t get the right to vote, or run in a federal election, until 1960. Interestingly, Canadian natives could vote prior to 1960, but only by giving up their status, treaty rights and statutory rights to property tax exemption.
In 1968, Kamloops native Len Marchand became the first status Indian to be elected to the House of Commons.
Fast-forward to today and we’re still stuck in the quagmire of special status for aboriginals. At the local level, I’m still convinced the Lheidli T'enneh treaty would have passed had it not been for non-resident band members voting in the negative. If you find that comment troubling, name one other Canadian electoral jurisdiction where a resident of another community has the special right to return home only at election time and cast a ballot.
At the provincial level, politicians of all stripes and at all levels are tearing their hair out over the proposed Tsawwassen land claim treaty where - if approved - 200 acres would be immediately taken out of the Agricultural Land Reserve. This special status provision is driving the provincial NDP nuts, as its MLAs struggle with the sanctity of the ALR over a negotiated agreement. It should also cause the Campbell government some concern as a “colour-blind” court challenge could call into question the legitimacy of all ALR legislation and decisions.
All of this only heightens the debate over special status for natives, and is it a genuine right and benefit, or does it further alienate natives from the mainstream of Canadian society.
I’m convinced the less special status the better. Let’s look at the Nisga’a treaty; the first modern-day treaty, and one signed outside of the B.C. treaty process.
In this treaty, the Nisga’a phased out their tax-exempt status. They agreed to certainty of the treaty, avoiding the never-never-land hang-ups so common in current B.C. treaty negotiations. The Nisga’a treaty calls for the salmon fishery allotment to be determined by the federal ministry and if fish escapements are down, no one fishes. Get the point? No special status for the Nisga’a.
Probably the best aboriginal development model in B.C. is the Osoyoos band’s winery and Nk’Mip Desert and First Nations Heritage Centre. This remarkable project is the brainchild of Osoyoos chief Clarence Louie. Along with two private-sector partners, Louie has parlayed a one-time $100,000 provincial economic development grant in 2003 into a $13-million-a-year tourist industry.
Louie has little interest in treaties. “I don’t have any time for the Queen,” he says. He also takes a decidedly hard line on any special provisions for band members. In a speech to an aboriginal conference, Louie said, “Join the real world - go to school or get a job.”
If anything, Louie is mainstream. No special deals; just take what you’ve got and work with it.
I’m not so naive as to believe we can immediately dispense with Indian reserves, the Indian Act, or Indian status. But all the evidence I’ve seen indicates the sooner both governments move away from any acknowledgment of special and separate provisions for aboriginals, the better off we’ll all be. To paraphrase Chief Louie, it’s time for British Columbia’s aboriginal communities to join the real world.
Bruce Strachan is a former B.C. cabinet minister and Prince George city councillor. His column appears Thursdays