Moving beyond the Indian Act By Susan Riley, The Ottawa CitizenDecember 9, 2011 7:20 AM In the wake of the crisis in Attawapiskat, Assembly of First Nations National Chief Shawn Atleo is making the case for "smashing the status quo" and creating a newly respectful relationship between native people and the federal government. He isn't the first cultivated, politically-astute aboriginal leader to make a plea for fundamental change. But, initially, prospects look grim - and not only because Atleo's stirring exhortation is short on specifics. He has secured a long-awaited meeting among chiefs and Prime Minister Stephen Harper in January, but, while welcome, this hardly signals radical change. More dispiriting, Harper's first response to troubling images of poverty and neglect from the northern Ontario reserve, was to question the integrity and competence of native leadership in Attawapiskat. This was followed by an offer to have 15 mobile homes delivered as soon as the winter road freezes. Until then, band members can move into a hastily refurbished sportsplex, or healing centre, or choose temporary evacuation. But the band gets help only if it agrees to work with a third-party manager - an outside auditor who will, incidentally, earn some $180,000 for his services until June. This money comes from the band's budget and somewhat undermines complaints over Chief Theresa Spence's $71,000 annual stipend. Still, Harper was probably speaking for many Canadians when he asked what happened to the $90 million taxpayers have sent to the Cree reserve of 1,800 over six years. But, if the prime minister asked a fair question, a half-hour research would have answered it - as would a peek at regular audits of band business. Most of those millions, it transpires, went to education and health care (although less is allocated, per capita, to native Canadians than to non-natives.) That leaves an estimated $500,000 yearly for new homes, and renovations, for dozens of families living in shacks, tents and a partly-insulated trailer donated by the nearby diamond mine. Given high construction costs up north, it isn't enough. That doesn't mean money doesn't go astray, that some bands aren't better managed than others, or that there is no need for accountability. But the prime minister's first response - and new legislation that will require chiefs and council members to publicize their salaries - sets a punitive, rather than respectful tone. So does Natural Resources Minister Joe Oliver's declaration that aboriginal civil disobedience will not stop the Gateway pipeline from Alberta to the B.C. coast, if the project wins approval of the National Energy Board. Said Oliver: "Look, this is a country that lives by the rule of law and I would hope that would be the standard going forward." Maybe federal cabinet should lead by example. Instead, Agriculture Minister Gerry Ritz appears ready to brush aside a federal court ruling and proceed with plans to dismantle the wheat board. Nor would anyone propose sending Peter MacKay and Tony Clement to Attawapiskat to lead a seminar on stewardship of public money. But, says Atleo, "our work is not to cast blame or cultivate guilt." Nor is the Harper government more insensitive, or ineffective, than predecessors when it comes to recurring incidents of squalor, despair and dependency in remote indigenous communities. From tough love, to benign neglect, to exhaustive study, nothing seems to work. That may be partly because Ottawa isn't demanding accountability of its own bureaucracy - the 5,200 employees of Aboriginal Affairs and Northern Development who are supposed to serve the country's indigenous population but, too often, complicate their lives and keep them dependent. Spence isn't the first chief to struggle with too little money, for too many problems - nor with constant demands to account to Ottawa for every move. Chief Gilbert Whiteduck of the successful Kitigan Zibi band in Maniwaki, Que., has worked hard to educate and employ young band members, prudently manage resources, open band business to scrutiny and involve band members in the financing and construction of their own housing. Despite this, "you cannot imagine the frustration in dealing with Indian Affairs," he says, "the number of reports we have to hand in, the outdated funding formulas, the different envelopes of money." The Indian Act, which oversees every detail of aboriginal life, imposes "shackles of paternalism", says Atleo. But while he wants to "move beyond" it, he isn't calling for immediate abolition. His constituency is economically and culturally diverse and some chiefs fear that without the Indian Act, indigenous people will be further impoverished and ultimately assimilated. It makes negotiations with Harper tricky, because the prime minister would probably love to downsize government by eliminating an entire department. He has the impatience and the authority to impose radical change - just not, perhaps, the change Atleo wants for his long-suffering people. Susan Rileywrites on national politics. Email sriley.w...@gmail.com.
