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Editorial

January 4, 2002 - Fulfilment outside of politics

January 11, 2002 - Preserving Nanisivik’s infrastructure

January 18, 2002 - Fix the Article 24 issue now

January 25, 2002 - A good start on language policy

January 4, 2002

Fulfilment outside of politics

Despite a few notable exceptions, Nunavut's political leadership didn't do so well in 2001.

Nunavut Tunngavik Inc. and the Qikiqtani Inuit Association lost their presidents after painful, public spectacles that devastated the reputations of each organization. In a subsequent by-election to elect a new president for NTI, eligible voters avoided the polls in droves.

As for the government of Nunavut, the best that can be said for it is that it survived. Its most substantial accomplishment was to avoid Nunavut's first territorial public service strike by putting together a wage and benefit offer good enough to persuade most NEU members that a strike was a bad idea.

Other than the Integrity Act, which sets out conflict-of-interest rules for MLAs, the Nunavut assembly passed no major legislation. Not until the introduction in the latest session of two bills that would amend the Hamlet Act and the Cities, Town and Villages Act, did the government even introduce any major legislation.

Instead, the government focused on finding more equitable ways of dividing up its minuscule capital budget. However, MLAs managed an early introduction of the government's 2002-3 capital budget, and did so in a way that provoked few complaints about "consultation" from various affected groups. The early capital budget should allow for the early tendering of next year's building projects, which in turn should make it easier for contractors to make their sealift and barge deadlines this spring. The government, especially the Department of Public Works, deserves some praise for this.

As for the legislative assembly's mid-term leadership review, regular MLAs did more to expose their own weaknesses than those of cabinet members.

By the end of 2001, however, there were signs that the legislative assembly might actually begin to talk about legislation that will affect the lives of real people.

In February, we will likely see a proposed new Education Act. The Department of Sustainable Development will likely go to work on a long-delayed replacement for the antiquated Wildlife Act. We're likely to hear much more about the Department of Community Government's proposed changes to Nunavut's municipal laws.

So for the government of Nunavut and the legislative assembly, 2002 promises to be a more fruitful year than 2001. But until we get a chance to observe how MLAs handle the legislation that's put before them, we would do well to temper our optimism with some caution.

Outside of Nunavut's troubled political institutions, however, creativity and the pursuit of excellence flourished as never before in 2001.

There are few Nunavummiut whose hearts didn't quicken by a few beats when they heard about the spectacular success of Isuma's Atanarjuat. To get the film made, Zacharias Kunuk and his colleagues at Isuma overcame innumerable obstacles, not the least of which was the short-sightedness of public officials in Nunavut. In music, Tanya Tagaq Gillis of Cambridge Bay took the art of throat-singing to new levels when she nearly upstaged Icelandic pop singer Bjørk on a world tour last year.

In their achievements, these two Nunavummiut demonstrated qualities of character that many Nunavut public officials would do well to emulate. We've heard a lot of talk over the years about how important is for politicians to act as if they were role models for the young. The year 2001 helped show that it's the politicians themselves who need better role models.

JB

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January 11, 2002

Preserving Nanisivik’s infrastructure

Infrastructure. Ask any territorial or municipal government official in Nunavut, and they’ll tell you that Nunavut doesn’t have enough of it.

For more than two years, territorial leaders have told Ottawa that Nunavut needs more money to pay for the physical structures that modern governments need to meet the needs of their citizens. This includes sewage and water treatment plants, wharves and bridges, airport runways and telecommunication links. To that you could add subsidized social housing, bigger schools and better health care buildings.

None of these are luxuries. They’re all needed to meet basic human needs.

The political arrangement that we call Canada would have disappeared a long time ago had federal and provincial governments not spent large amounts of money on the Canadian Pacific Railway, the Trans-Canada Highway, and our national telecommunications system. Without government investment, Telesat Canada, a former Crown corporation that’s now part of Bell Canada’s media empire, would never have come into existence and northern Canada would still lack basic access to most electronic forms of communication.

So when northern leaders say Nunavut not only needs more public infrastructure spending, but also deserves it, they have a point — especially when they cite other regions of Canada that could never have been developed without generous government spending.

But if it’s true that Nunavut deserves, or is somehow morally entitled to received generous amounts of federal infrastructure money, then it follows that Nunavut is in no position to throw existing infrastructure away.

That, however, is what may happen at Nanisivik if the affected parties aren’t able to reach a consensus on what to do after the mine there ceases to exist next year.

Breakwater Resources, whose zinc mine at Nanisivik is set to close in the fall of 2002, has committed itself to an environmental clean-up that includes flattening its valuable infrastructure and restoring the site to close to its original condition. Breakwater’s property there includes staff housing, recreation facilities, Nanisivik’s famous dome building, and other structures.

In addition, there’s a deep-sea dock, managed by the Coast Guard, and an airstrip, managed by the territorial government, capable of handling Boeing 737 jets.

The Nunavut government should not allow this infrastructure to go to waste. Besides, most if not all Arctic Bay residents are likely to support the idea of using the site for a new purpose, especially if it replaces jobs they’ll lose when the mine closes.

The first tough question though is this: What should the new purpose be? There are many possibilities: a low-security correctional centre, a residential school or college, a trades training centre, a tourist lodge, and so on. A second tough question is where to find operation and maintenance money to pay for the site’s new role. Another tough question that may arise is whether the site ought to be developed as an organized community under Nunavut’s municipal laws, as either a settlement or a hamlet.

It seems reasonable to believe that Breakwater, which is not doing well financially, might be willing to make a deal with the Nunavut government, especially if such an arrangement were to reduce its environmental bill.

Breakwater should certainly pay for a thorough clean-up of its tailings pond and any other toxic materials at Nanisivik. But why should it be forced to pay for the demolition of usable infrastructure? Perhaps it could be persuaded to sell the buildings to the government of Nunavut for one dollar.

JB

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January 18, 2002

Fix the Article 24 issue now

The last paragraph of the Nunavut land claim agreement’s well-known Article 24 says that the three parties to the agreement "shall conduct a review of the effect of this Article within 20 years of its implementation."

The way things are going in Nunavut right now, it might take that long just to figure out how to finish carrying out the policy.

Article 24, as many readers already know, requires that governments provide reasonable forms of help to Inuit-owned companies, aimed at making it easier for them to compete for government contracts.

In principle, most Nunavut residents, Inuit and non-Inuit, support this idea — that governments pay a premium, within reasonable limits, to help Inuit-owned businesses establish themselves in Nunavut. Why not? Nearly all Canadian provincial governments have procurement policies that favour their own residents. And in return for surrender of their aboriginal title, Inuit deserve to receive tools to help develop their economic self-sufficiency.

The Nunavut government’s way of complying with Article 24 is fairly simple. It took the well-known and longstanding "business incentive" policy inherited from the government of the Northwest Territories, and then, in co-operation with Nunavut Tunngavik Inc., adapted it to provide competitive advantages to Nunavut-based firms owned by beneficiaries of the Nunavut land claim agreement.

In March 2000, GN and NTI officials jointly announced their brain-child: the Nunavummi Nangminiqaqtunik Ikajuuti policy, or NNI. At the time, Paul Quassa, then the president NTI, happily declared that the territorial government was in compliance with Article 24.

"I’d like to commend the government of Nunavut for working hard with us to ensure the obligations under Article 24 are being met," Quassa said in the March 24, 2000, issue of Nunatsiaq News.

But that was then, and this is now.

Since many Nunavut firms could not survive without government contracts, it’s probably naive to expect that the implementation of Article 24 will produce peace, love and happiness within the business community. The evidence shows that, instead, it has simply given Nunavut’s whining classes a new piece of paper to squabble over.

The most serious shortcoming, however, is that NTI and the territorial government have yet to agree on how to set up a board that would hear appeals from people who disagree with government contract decisions.

The GN says such a board should deal only with two matters: whether a contractor’s status as a northern, Inuit or local firm is properly determined, and whether the bid adjustment is calculated properly — according to the formulas set out in the NNI.

The NTI position is that such a board should be able to hear appeals based not only on the application of the NNI, but also based on Article 24 itself. Since the NNI is supposed to resolve the Article 24 issue, this is a curious position to take.

Even though NTI, the organization that represents Nunavut Inuit, co-wrote the NNI policy in co-operation with the government of Nunavut, whose authority derives from a legislative assembly representing an electorate that is 80 per cent Inuit, a lot of people still think the NNI policy doesn’t serve Inuit.

The appeals are starting to pile up. And because there’s no appeal process, some disgruntled companies that fail to win contracts are now going to court to make their complaints.

Just last month, three private Inuit-owned firms launched a legal action against the government of Nunavut, alleging the government violated the NNI policy by not giving them fuel distribution contracts within their respective communities.

In words written for them by an Ottawa law firm, the three companies claim that Nunavut’s Inuit-owned co-operatives aren’t Inuit-owned. Why? Because their umbrella organization, Arctic Co-operatives Ltd., has an office in Winnipeg.

This, of course, exemplifies a particular type of idiocy that only lawyers are capable of — reality as defined by words on a piece of paper, rather than what is revealed by reason and common sense. After all, Nunavut’s community-owned co-operatives are among Nunavut’s oldest Inuit-owned businesses. Some have existed since the early 1960s.

But this lawsuit, absurd though it may be, underscores the need to resolve the Article 24 issue, in a way that balances Inuit rights with the territorial government’s obligation to manage public funds in a responsible, efficient manner.

The Nunavut government now has a new minister of Public Works, and Nunavut Tunngavik now has a new president. Now would seem to be the right time for them to sit down and work out a way of setting up an NNI appeal board, perhaps in time for an announcement to be made at the next sitting of the legislative assembly.

JB

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January 25, 2002

A good start on language policy

Nunavut’s language commissioner, Eva Aariak, last week offered the Nunavut legislative assembly a chance to do something that, at long last, the territory’s residents will find relevant to their lives. Given that the assembly has been in existence for two and a half years, that’s none too soon.

In a presentation to the assembly’s special committee on the Official Languages Act on Jan. 18, Aariak proposed two things:

• a set of amendments to the current Official Languages Act that clarifies the "official" status of Inuktitut, English and French; and

• the creation of an entirely new law she proposes to call the "Inuktitut Protection Act."

Some people will welcome her proposals; some people will hate them. Nearly everyone will want to tinker with parts of them.

But Aariak deserves praise for giving us something we never had before: a set of specific, concrete ideas that can help Nunavummiut begin talking to each other about how to protect the Inuit language in Nunavut.

From the very beginning, the Nunavut territory was intended to be an instrument for the preservation of the Inuit language. That is one of the prime justifications for its very existence. If the Nunavut legislative assembly and the Nunavut government ignore this obligation, then the creation of Nunavut will have been a waste of human energy. MLAs should not have to be told that action on language policy ought to be a matter of the highest priority for them.

Doing this, however, means they must tread into areas of controversy that in the past have paralyzed attempts to reach consensus on language issues. Again, Aariak has made some honest attempts to point us out of these quagmires.

For example, she proposes a way of clarifying the status of Innuinaqtun by suggesting that Innuinaqtun be deemed a dialect of Inuktitut, not a separate language. To do that, she suggests that the Official Languages Act be amended to include the following words: " ‘Inuktitut’ includes all the dialects spoken in Nunavut, including Innuinaqtun."

She side-steps the decades-old syllabics-versus-Roman-orthography debate by proposing that Innuinaqtun "shall always" be written in Roman orthography, but may be written in syllabics provided a version in Roman orthography of equal prominence appears adjacent to it.

It’s likely, though, that Aariak’s proposal for a separate "Inuktitut Protection Act" will generate the greatest amount of controversy and debate.

The language commissioner says the assembly should create a second law to provide specific protections for Inuktitut not necessarily available to other languages. Since any changes to the existing Official Languages Act require the approval of Parliament in addition to approval by the Nunavut legislative assembly, she says these special measures would be easier to codify were they in a separate act.

Nunavut residents will surely have a lot to say about Aariak’s proposals for the regulation of signs mounted on the outside walls of public buildings — especially signs used by private businesses and non-government organizations. They’ll also have a lot to say about her proposals on the use of Inuktitut within commercial enterprises.

It’s inevitable that many people will draw comparisons between Quebec’s language law, Bill 101, and the language measures that Aariak would apply to private businesses. But it’s worth keeping in mind that her proposals fall short of Bill 101’s requirements for the prominence of French on commercial signs in Quebec. For example, in Quebec, French words on outdoor signs must be displayed using letters that are at least twice the size of English words.

Nunavut’s language commissioner, on the other hand, proposes the mandatory use of Inuktitut on all outdoor signs, but says other languages may be used on them as long as Inuktitut is equally prominent. She also proposes that interior signs within private businesses — greater than a certain size to be determined by government — appear in Inuktitut. She also says that "loudspeaker announcements within the retail space of a commercial establishment" be made in Inuktitut in addition to other languages.

Yet another proposal would require that all licensed pharmacies in Nunavut provide oral and written information about prescriptions in Inuktitut. She suggests pharmacies that don’t have the ability to do this should not have their licences granted or renewed.

Some private businesses won’t like some or all of these requirements, and will argue that self-interest and the competitive marketplace should determine the extent to which commercial enterprises display various languages. Some business people will argue that since most of their customers are Inuit, it’s in their interest to display signs in Inuktitut anyway, and that the specific needs of customers should determine the use of Inuktitut within their businesses. Some businesses will argue that these measures would create costs that will increase the prices that consumers pay for groceries and other retail goods.

It should be a lively debate.

Aariak would also include measures aimed at creating a right to work in Inuktitut. The new Inuktitut protection law would declare that all Nunavummiut would have the right to "carry out their duties" in Inuktitut. Employers would be prohibited from firing or demoting any worker simply because that worker has "insufficient" knowledge of a language other than Inuktitut.

Furthermore, any employer would be prohibited from making the knowledge or specific level of knowledge in a language other than Inuktitut a condition of employment. The only exceptions to this are jobs in which the employer is able to demonstrate that the knowledge of a language other than Inuktitut is "integral."

Here, the legislature must exercise great care to ensure that such legislation is able to survive a court challenge based on the Charter of Rights. Most Nunavummiut are likely to agree wholeheartedly with the broad principles behind these proposals, but when the legislation is written, the territorial government’s lawyers should study the wording with extreme diligence.

Yet another major proposal contained in the language commissioner’s submission is for the creation of an "Inuktitut Language Authority" operating under the office of the language commissioner. This new bureaucratic entity would make recommendations about terminology, do research, make recommendations about the spelling of place names, and generally provide support to those who want to enrich and strengthen Inuktitut.

She also recommends that a language policy secretariat — similar to the current decentralization secretariat — be set up under either the Department of the Executive or the Department of Culture, Language, Elders and Youth. A cabinet minister would then be put in charge of the language secretariat and made accountable for carrying out the government’s language laws.

This is a long-overdue measure that the government should have done as of April 1, 1999. Incredibly, there is still no single minister responsible for all official language matters within the territorial government — which helps to explain why the Nunavut government has done next to nothing over the past two and a half years in the development of language policy.

But if the government accepts this recommendation, the language secretariat must operate within the executive department, not CLEY, and be handled by the premier. If language issues are to get the attention they deserve, the cabinet minister with the greatest amount of clout and status must handle them. Within government, cabinet ministers measure their worth by the size of their budgets, which means the tiny CLEY department and its issues usually get the least attention. Language is a government-wide issue, and therefore must be handled by the only minister with government-wide responsibilities — the premier.

The language commissioner’s weakest recommendations are those dealing with the enforcement of language laws, especially with respect to violations of the law committed by private businesses.

She suggests no fines or other penalties. Instead, she proposes that after an investigation of a complaint involving government or a commercial enterprise, the language commissioner report her findings to the premier, a deputy minister and the "administrative head of the commercial enterprise involved." This would include the language commissioner’s recommendations on what action should be taken.

This is unacceptable, for two reasons. First, without clear penalties, such legislation will likely be unenforceable. If language protection laws are worth having, they must have teeth.

Second, cabinet ministers and unelected bureaucrats must not be responsible for making judgments about whether someone has broken the law. That function can only be carried out by the judicial branch of government, within the courts.

To give such power to the executive branch of government would set an extremely dangerous precedent. The premier, or any other territorial government official, must not be allowed to become a judge, jury and prosecutor all at the same time. Private citizens accused of violating the language law must have the right to defend themselves in court before an impartial judge. If not, the law will deserve to be declared unconstitutional under the Charter of Rights.

Nunavut’s language commissioner has, however, made an excellent start toward prodding the Nunavut legislative assembly into a consideration of language policy.

Let the discussion begin.

JB

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