January 28, 2005
Nunavut’s big heart
Once again, the people of Nunavut have revealed one of their great strengths to the world and to themselves: their big-hearted generosity.
As news of the Dec. 26 earthquake-tsunami disaster in southeastern Asia spread around the world on television, fundraising events sprang up faster than Arctic cotton on a sunny summer’s day.
No one from on high had to tell anyone what do to. It was spontaneous. And where the people led, the government followed. Managing to rouse itself from a mid-winter torpor, even the Government of Nunavut managed to make a donation, albeit many days after its sister governments in Yellowknife and Whitehorse had done the same.
Our neighbours in Nunavik also rose up to raise money any way they could think of. Once again, some of the poorest communities in Canada showed the rest of the country that they are rich in the spirit of compassion. There are so many fundraising efforts underway in Arctic Canada, in so many communities, organized by so many different people, it’s impossible to calculate how much money has been raised. But it’s safe to assume that the figure now stands at many, many tens of thousands of dollars.
For those who are old enough to recall, it brought back memories of the 1984 Ethiopian famine relief campaign, when cash-poor Nunavut communities raised astounding amounts of money. The people of Ethiopia were so impressed they invited a delegation of Inuit to their country a year later to thank them.
There are lots of reasons to explain why northern people react this way. Perhaps it’s the power of television and the deep emotions that television makes people feel. When you see the face of a suffering person from the other side of the world on a television screen, it feels as if that person is just next door. For others, it may have been the communicative power of the Internet, which made it possible for people to follow the disaster as it unfolded, hour by hour.
Another likely reason is that the Inuit of Nunavut and Nunavik, especially older people, know all about suffering: famine, accidental deaths on the land, and natural disasters, such as the 1999 New Year’s Eve avalanche that battered the people of Kangiqsualujjuaq. Those who have suffered are often capable of a special empathy for those who find themselves in desperate straits.
There’s no doubt about it: the ethic of mutual aid still lives in northern Canada, as it did in those days not so long ago when sharing was essential for survival. When the people of the North are motivated, they can do great things. And they don’t need the government or some other authority to tell them how to do it.
But at the same time, we all know that there are untold social and economic problems plaguing the people of Nunavut and Nunavik. Some, like drug and alcohol abuse, are so common that many people don’t even see them as problems. Will the people one day turn their heart-felt energies to those little disasters that every day are doing damage to their own communities? JB
January 21, 2005
The Nanisivik penal colony?
By the time you read this, John Godfrey, the federal minister of state for infrastructure and communities, will have finished a tour of northern Canada that began this past Monday in Whitehorse.
Yesterday, Godfrey visited Pangnirtung and Iqaluit. While here Godfrey performed the usual routine tasks: meet the local supplicants, put on a convincing display of fake sincerity, then announced a sprinkling of federal guilt money that was already announced in 2003.
As for what Nunavut leaders told him, that’s equally predictable. They’ll have said what they’ve said for years: that Nunavut’s infrastructure, whether it be related to municipal works, the transportation system, or public housing, is in appalling shape. Then they’ll have asked him for money, as they should. Nunavut’s infrastructure deficit is well-documented, especially by the Conference Board of Canada and the Nunavut Association of Municipalities, and obvious to every person living in Nunavut today.
It’s ironic then, that in a week when the word “infrastructure” was on everyone’s lips, that the Government of Nunavut would announce a ministerial visit to Arctic Bay at the end of this month.
On Jan. 31, David Simailak, the minister of economic development, will “lead” a platoon of GN big shots, including Premier Paul Okalik and cabinet ministers Olayuk Akesuk and Peter Kilabuk, into Arctic Bay. Accompanied by some hired help from the GN bureaucracy, they’ll explain why many tens of millions of dollars worth of valuable infrastructure — an entire town site — will be bulldozed and tossed into a empty mine shaft.
That, essentially, is what is happening to what’s left of the former mining community known as Nanisivik, which for many years supplied Arctic Bay residents with jobs, a jet-capable airstrip, and other services.
Breakwater Resources Ltd., the current owner, began to shut down production at the Nanisivik mine in the fall of 2001, after announcing their intention to do so in the summer of that year.
That was three and half years ago. By November of 2001, the company was ready to seek approval from the Nunavut Water Board for its plan to close the mine and clean up the site. That plan called for the removal of all buildings and restoration of the site to its natural state.
But Colin Benner, Breakwater’s president, also said in November of 2001 that the company would adjust those plans should the Nunavut government choose to use some or all of the site for some other purpose. As late as July of 2004, company officials were still taking the same approach.
But by then it was too late. On July 6, 2004, the Nunavut Water Board gave Breakwater permission to start demolishing buildings, a job that will be done by the fall of this year. And the Government of Nunavut — almost a year ago — had already turned down offers from Breakwater to buy some or all of the infrastructure at Nanisivik.
Bill Heath, a Breakwater vice-president and the former mine manager at Nanisivik, had this to say, in an article published July 9, 2004 in Nunatsiaq News:
“We were of the view that there was still some life left in those buildings. We’ve been trying very, very hard for almost five years to find some alternative purpose for Nanisivik that would allow the infrastructure to stay in place.”
There’s no doubt about what the people of Arctic Bay wanted: an alternative use for the site. They made that clear right from the beginning. In November of 2002, Joanasie Akumalik, then the mayor of Arctic Bay, said the community was getting tired of waiting for answers.
“All the infrastructure is there, but I think somebody is afraid to make a decision,” Akumalik said in an article published Nov. 1, 2002, in Nunatsiaq News. You got that one right, Joanasie.
If the people of Arctic Bay were frustrated then, one wonders how they feel now. Perhaps the trades training centre they proposed was not practical. But the excuse given for the delays, possible contamination of buildings, is weak. No one ever raised that issue during all the years when people ate, bathed, slept and raised their children in them.
To be fair, GN’s approach to the people of Arctic Bay has been consistent: delay, delay, delay and when appropriate, fill the air with nonsense. With that in mind, we have our own alternative use proposal for Nanisivik: a penal colony for incompetent GN officials. JB
January 14, 2005
There’s a hole in the justice system
You can’t fault Iqaluit City Council for taking a close look at the way their municipality hands out bingo licences. It’s something they should have done a long time ago.
Bingos are a form of legalized gambling. There is no “right” to conduct a bingo whenever you feel like it. It’s a licenced privilege. Given the large amounts of money that bingos suck from the pockets of ordinary people, some of whom are addicted to gambling, it would be irresponsible for governments not to control who gets a bingo licence and who doesn’t.
In Nunavut, the issuance of bingo licences is a responsibility of the Government of Nunavut. In an arrangement inherited from the Northwest Territories, the GN gets municipalities to do this work for them.
As the municipality of Iqaluit discovered recently, this is no simple task. They’ve found themselves struggling to apply territorial law, and their own bylaws, with no apparent legal guidance from the Government of Nunavut, and no clear idea of what’s allowed and what isn’t.
And as the municipality has gone forward with this necessary task, the Nunavut branch of the John Howard Society — which provides services to people from many Nunavut communities — now finds that its biggest source of revenue is threatened. As most readers will have heard by now, their lucrative Saturday night TV bingos now operate under an interim two-month licence, the second such two-month permit they’ve been issued since the fall. Meanwhile, city councillors will likely use that time to decide whether the John Howard group’s bingos should continue to operate in the long term.
Despite the city’s good intentions, this has thrust both sides into an absurd situation.
The city council of Iqaluit now finds itself in a position where, effectively, it must decide the fate of an organization whose work extends far beyond the boundaries of Iqaluit.
That work includes the shipment of country food to Inuit inmates in southern penitentiaries, the use of video to help southern inmates communicate with family in Nunavut, and other forms of support for Inuit prisoners. Iqaluit residents, unfortunately, don’t get to see most of that work, which benefits people from many Nunavut communities.
Similar work is done by the numerous branches of the John Howard Society operating in every other province and territory of Canada. It’s a highly respected prisoner’s welfare organization that has existed in Canada and other Commonwealth countries for more than 100 years. (It’s named after a man called John Howard, who advocated for better treatment of prisoners in 18th century England.)
But there’s one big difference. John Howard Society branches in Vancouver, Winnipeg, Toronto and Fredericton don’t have to run weekly bingos to pay for their operations. In other parts of the country, John Howard Society branches get their money from federal, provincial and municipal governments. And they run numerous programs, under contract, on behalf of social service and correctional agencies.
They’re also recognized as a legitimate charitable organization just about everywhere. In most places, they get their charitable donations through the United Way, which is a kind of co-op that solicits money on behalf of numerous member organizations.
The municipality of Iqaluit has questioned whether the John Howard Society is a “charity.” But that’s a question that’s already been answered everywhere in Canada — it’s a charity.
But unlike other Iqaluit organizations that are funded by bingos, the John Howard group pays out a lot of its revenues in salaries, because they say they need full-time employees to carry out some of their programs, such as judo instruction for children. This, apparently, has raised questions in the minds of some city officials about whether the bingo money is being spent on legitimate purposes.
That’s understandable — Iqaluit has never seen an organization like the John Howard Society before. But the resulting dispute has led to a variety of nasty rumours and allegations on both sides, and much unnecessary bitterness.
At the same time, the real issue is getting lost: Nunavut’s underfunded and badly ignored correctional system. Those bingos exist because of a gaping hole in Nunavut’s justice system. If Nunavut’s correctional system was funded properly, and if more Nunavut residents bothered to care about it, the John Howard Society wouldn’t have to rely on bingos.
So before making a decision on the long-term fate of the John Howard Society’s bingo licences, the city of Iqaluit should first assess what would be lost if those licences were denied. To that end, they should seek advice from appropriate officials at Corrections Canada, the GN’s Department of Justice, Pauktuutit, the Inuit Tapiriit Kanatami, and other organizations involved in the welfare of Nunavut prison inmates.
Whatever decision they make, it will have long-term consequence, for which a municipal government should not have to be responsible. But given the state of Nunavut’s screwed-up justice system, it’s a decision they’ll have to make. Let it be an informed decision. JB
January
7, 2005
New Year's resolutions we'd like to see
Most of us are used to the making of solemn promises for the New Year - and
some of us even used to keeping them.
But wouldn't it be fun to see people making those resolutions that we, not
they, think they should keep?
- Iqaluit Mayor Elisapie Sheutiapik: She resolves to bring some of that great
Grind 'n' Brew coffee into Iqaluit's city council chambers, to keep everyone
awake during those long meetings.
- Makivik Corporation President Pita Aatami: Whenever someone asks him a
question about Nunavik self-government during a live radio broadcast, he resolves
that he will smile and say: "Thank you for your excellent question."
- Education Minister Ed Picco: He resolves to take singing lessons before
recording his next CD.
- Finance Minister Leona Aglukkaq: She resolves to balance the GN's budget
next year.
- Nunavik singer Elisapie Isaac, and Nunavut singer Lucie Idlout: They resolve
to put out more great albums.
- Theatre owner Bryan Pearson: He resolves to host a northern film festival
at the Astro Theatre.
- Environment Minister Olayuk Akesuk: He resolves to pay his rent.
- Nunavut Premier Paul Okalik: He resolves to compile a Rolodex file of his
many friends, to consult when making GN appointments.
- The staff at Puvirnituq's Iguarsivik School: They resolve to continue their
efforts to combat violence in their community.
- The Department of Fisheries and Oceans: They resolve to find better ways
of communicating with Inuit hunters.
- Heather Tickie Ochalski and Jennifer Long: They resolve to keep running
their excellent web discussion board at www.iglootalk.com.
- Iqaluit's break-in artists: They resolve to leave more fingerprints and
footprints lying around, so the courts can more easily throw them in jail.
- CBC Iqaluit: They resolve to sign an advertising contract with Waste Matters
Inc., to formalize their already close relationship.
- Iqaluit's property tax deadbeats: They resolve to stop making excuses.
- The Tahera Diamond Corporation: They resolve to abide by the terms of their
agreement with the Kitikmeot Inuit Association, and will hire as many Inuit
as they can for the Jericho mine.
- Nunavut MLAs: They next time they get together to create a "Pinasuaqtavut,"
they resolve to add a line saying that they will do something to combat alcohol
and drug abuse.
- Members of the Nunavut Employees Union: They resolve to count their blessings.
- Levinia Brown, Nunavut's health minister: She resolve to ensure that Nunavut's
new health centres are fully staffed.
- Nunavut's young people: They resolve to value life over everything else.
- First Air and Greenland Air: They will find a way of reviving a scheduled
service between Greenland and the eastern Canadian Arctic.
- The Nunavut Power Corporation: They resolve to balance their books before
they drag all of Nunavut into bankruptcy. JB
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