The Dominion - Algonquin

What if Natives Stop Subsidizing Canada?

Tim McSorley — Tue, 08 Jan 2013 17:01:13 +0000

This piece was originally posted on the Media Co-op. For more #IdleNoMore coverage, click here.

MONTREAL—There is a prevailing myth that Canada's more than 600 First Nations and native communities live off of money—subsidies—from the Canadian government. This myth, though it is loudly proclaimed and widely believed, is remarkable for its boldness; widely accessible, verifiable facts show that the opposite is true.

Indigenous people have been subsidizing Canada for a very long time.

Conservatives have leaked documents in an attempt to discredit chief Theresa Spence, currently on hunger strike in Ottawa. Reporters like Jeffrey Simpson and Christie Blatchford have ridiculed the demands of native leaders and the protest movement Idle No More. Their ridicule rests on this foundational untruth: that it is hard-earned tax dollars of Canadians that pays for housing, schools and health services in First Nations. The myth carries a host of racist assumptions on its back. It enables prominent voices like Simpson and Blatchford to liken protesters' demands to "living in a dream palace" or "horse manure," respectively.

It's true that Canada's federal government controls large portions of the cash flow First Nations depend on. Much of the money used by First Nations to provide services does come from the federal budget. But the accuracy of the myth ends there.

On the whole, the money that First Nations receive is a small fraction of the value of the resources, and the government revenue that comes out of their territories. Let's look a few examples.

Barriere Lake

The Algonquins of Barriere Lake have a traditional territory that spans 10,000 square kilometres. For thousands of years, they have made continuous use of the land. They have never signed a treaty giving up their rights to the land. An estimated $100 million per year in revenues are extracted every year from their territory in the form of logging, hydroelectric dams, and recreational hunting and fishing.

And yet the community lives in third-world conditions. A diesel generator provides power, few jobs are available, and families live in dilapidated bungalows. These are not the lifestyles of a community with a $100 million economy in its back yard. In some cases, governments are willing to spend lavishly. They spared no expense, for example, sending 50 fully-equipped riot police from Montreal to break up a peaceful road blockade with tear gas and physical coercion.

Barriere Lake is subsidizing the logging industry, Canada, and Quebec.

The community isn't asking for the subsidies to stop, just for some jobs and a say in how their traditional territories are used. They've been fighting for these demands for decades.

Attawapiskat

Attawapiskat has been in the news because their ongoing housing crisis came to the attention of the media in 2011 (MP Charlie Angus referred to the poverty-stricken community as "Haiti at 40 below"). More recently, Chief Theresa Spence has made headlines for her ongoing hunger strike. The community is near James Bay, in Ontario's far north.

Right now, DeBeers is constructing a $1 billion mine on the traditional territory of the Āhtawāpiskatowi ininiwak. Anticipated revenues will top $6.7 billion. Currently, the Conservative government is subjecting the budget of the Cree to extensive scrutiny. But the total amount transferred to the First Nation since 2006—$90 million—is a little more than one percent of the anticipated mine revenues. As a percentage, that's a little over half of Harper's cut to GST.

Royalties from the mine do not go to the First Nation, but straight to the provincial government. The community has received some temporary jobs in the mine, and future generations will have to deal with the consequences of a giant open pit mine in their back yard.

Attawapiskat is subsidizing DeBeers, Canada and Ontario.

Lubicon

The Lubicon Cree, who never signed a treaty ceding their land rights, have waged a decades-long campaign for land rights. During this time, over $14 billion in oil and gas has been removed from their traditional territory. During the same period, the community has gone without running water, endured divisive attacks from the government, and suffered the environmental consequences of unchecked extraction.

Sour gas flaring next to the community resulted in an epidemic of health problems, and stillborn babies. Moose and other animals fled the area, rendering the community's previously self-sufficient lifestyle untenable overnight. In 2011, an oil pipeline burst, spilling 4.5 million litres of oil onto Lubicon territory. The Lubicon remain without a treaty, and the extraction continues.

The Lubicon Cree are subsidizing the oil and gas sector, Alberta and Canada.

What will Canada do without its subsidies?

From the days of beaver trapping to today's aspirations of becoming an energy superpower, Canada's economy has always been based on natural resources. With 90% of its settler population amassed along the southern border, exploitation of the land's wealth almost always happens at the expense of the Indigenous population.

Canada's economy could not have been build without massive subsidies: of land, resource wealth, and the incalculable cost of generations of suffering.

Overall numbers are difficult to pin down, but consider the following: Canadian governments received $9 billion in taxes and royalties in 2011 from mining companies, which is a tiny portion of overall mining profits; $3.8 billion came from exports of hydroelectricity alone in 2008, and 60 per cent of Canada's electricity comes from hydroelectric dams; one estimate has tar sands extraction bringing in $1.2 trillion in royalties over 35 years; the forestry industry was worth $38.2 billion in 2006, and contributes billions in royalties and taxes.

By contrast, annual government spending on First Nations is $5.36 billion, which comes to about $7,200 per person. By contrast, per capita government spending in Ottawa is around $14,900. By any reasonable measure, it's clear that First Nations are the ones subsidizing Canada. (2005 figures; the amount is slightly higher today.)

These industries are mostly take place on an Indigenous nation's traditional territory, laying waste to the land in the process, submerging, denuding, polluting and removing. The human costs are far greater; brutal tactics aimed at erasing native peoples' identity and connection with the land have created human tragedies several generations deep and a legacy of fierce and principled resistance that continues today.

Canada has developed myriad mechanisms to keep the pressure on and the resources flowing. But policies of large-scale land theft and subordination of peoples are not disposed to half measures. From the active violence of residential schools to the targetted neglect of underfunded reserve schools, from RCMP and armed forces rifles to provincial police tear gas canisters, the extraction of these subsidies has always been treated like a game of Risk, but with real consequences.

Break the treaty, press the advantage, and don't let a weaker player rebuild.

Idle? Know More.

The last residential school was shut down in 1996. Canadians today would like to imagine themselves more humane than past generations, but few can name the Indigenous nations of this land or the treaties that allow Canada and Canadians to exist.

Understanding the subsidies native people give to Canada is just the beginning. Equally crucial is understanding the mechanisms by which the government forces native people to choose every day between living conditions out of a World Vision advertisement and hopelessness on one hand, and the pollution and social problems of short-term resource exploitation projects on the other.

Empathy and remorse are great reasons to act to dismantle this ugly system of expropriation. But an even better reason is that Indigenous nations present the best and only partners in taking care of our environment. Protecting our rivers, lakes, forests and oceans is best done by people with a multi-millenial relationship with the land.

As the people who live downstream and downwind, and who have an ongoing relationship to the land, Cree, Dene, Anishnabe, Inuit, Ojibway and other nations are among the best placed and most motivated to slow down and stop the industrial gigaprojects that are threatening all of our lives.

Movements like Idle No More give a population asleep at the wheel the chance to wake up and hear what native communities have been saying for hundreds of years: it's time to withdraw our consent from this dead end regime, and chart a new course.

Dru Oja Jay is a writer, organizer, Media Co-op co-founder. Co-author of Paved with Good Intentions and Offsetting Resistance.

Barriere Lake Protest

DeBeers Victor Mine

Special Rapporteur Agrees to Meet

Paula LaPierre — Wed, 21 Apr 2010 16:00:39 +0000

Special Rapporteur Mr. James Anaya has agreed to meet with Paula LaPierreregarding numerous concerns.

LaPierre contends that all Canadians have been denied access to their own genuine history. She further claims that often, as a result of this poor understanding of history there can continue a lingering sense of injustice. Communities need to have a deep understanding of their own identity and history if they are to position themselves effectively for the transitions ahead.

LaPierre looks forward to the creation of community-based processes that can stimulate deeper community learning and engagement.

Joint Efforts are the Key

Paula LaPierre — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 17:36:16 +0000

Concerns

Paula LaPierre — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 15:45:41 +0000

The Dialogue Denied Us

Appreciates Recent Correspondence

Paula LaPierre — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 22:13:35 +0000

"We Are Not All Metis"

Paula LaPierre — Sat, 16 May 2009 18:43:46 +0000

Canada Domestic Policy can be Problematic.

Manipulation #1- We are not all Metis.
Aboriginal rights are inherent and inalienable. Program and services dollars can be used to lure people away from cultural integrity.

Manipulation #2- Aboriginal rights belong to a certain race of people who can prove they are that race.
Race was never the issue. It is about culture.

Moving Forward in a Sustainable Process

Paula LaPierre — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 02:03:11 +0000

Minister's Memo Exposes Motives for Removing Algonquin Chief

dru — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 16:05:43 +0000

INAC expected collaboration with new Chief but feared legal repercussions and perception of government sponsorship

MONTREAL–A secret document obtained by The Dominion reveals Indian and Northern Affairs Canada (INAC) decided to replace the leadership of Barriere Lake First Nation, which officials considered "dogmatized," with a chief and council offering “improved collaboration."

The memo sent to Indian Affairs Minister Chuck Strahl recommends recognizing leadership claimant Casey Ratt in place of Chief Benjamin Nottaway, but predicts such a move will lead to community violence, erection of barricades, legal challenges and "media pressure" based on the "perception of a council sponsored by INAC.”

Strahl signed off on the memo on March 3, 2008. In an April letter to the Ottawa Citizen he maintains that INAC was following the wishes of the community and was not "backing one group over another."

Ratt's ascent to power in the northern Quebec Algonquin community of 450 has been fiercely contested by Nottaway's supporters, who allege INAC ousted an assertive leadership and empowered a group that violated customary leadership protocols.

The Barriere Lake Algonquins select their leadership not by ballot, but by a strict Customary Governance Code that involves the nomination of candidates by elders and their approval in community assemblies. As Strahl states in his public letter, INAC's "role is to simply acknowledge the outcome and register the results."

But the Elder's Council in Barriere Lake quickly launched a judicial review of Strahl's move, arguing INAC went beyond their legal bounds in deciding who should be in power. In April, INAC motioned to dismiss the Elder's case, maintaining INAC did not make a “decision” reviewable by the courts.

The February 18 memo demonstrates that decisions were in fact made. Instead of carefully assessing whether a leadership selection conducted by Ratt's supporters in late January 2008 accorded with the Customary Governance Code, it focuses on the benefits and drawbacks of three possible INAC responses: recognizing Ratt, maintaining relations with Nottaway, or withdrawing recognition for Nottaway and mediating or imposing an electoral system on the community.

According to the memo, keeping ties with Nottaway would entail "continuity of tensed [sic] relations between INAC and the Band Council, considering its claims." For nearly two decades, Nottaway's supporters have been locked in a battle with INAC and Quebec over the implementation of a landmark Trilateral agreement that would give the First Nation say over resource use on 10,000 square kilometres of their traditional territory.

Despite Nottaway's council's "claim to its legitimacy," the memo expresses preference for a band council headed by Casey Ratt, detailing "positive impacts" that include “improved collaboration of the new council with INAC,” a “new council less dogmatized," and a "new environment more favourable to the development of the community" and a "healing process."

A 2006 attempt by Ratt’s supporters to select a chief and council was dismissed after mediation in 2007 by Quebec Superior Court Judge Réjean Paul, who called the group a “small minority” whose selection process “did not follow the Customary Governance Code." Over that year INAC withdrew recognition from Nottaway's customary predecessor, Chief Jean-Maurice Matchewan, until Judge Paul issued the report affirming his legitimacy.

The secret memo acknowledges Judge Paul’s "approach" and admits INAC "does not have all the information" regarding Ratt's recent selection, but states an independent observer "partly related the process' compliance with custom requirements."

When INAC cited this local court worker's report in a March 10 letter notifying Nottaway he was no longer Chief, officials refused to release it to the community. The Elder Council's lawyers obtained it through court months later and discovered that the observer had in fact stated he "couldn’t guarantee” Ratt had followed the Customary Governance Code.

The memo also dismisses taking advantage of the "shaky situation" in the community to impose an Indian Act election system, because its "major impacts" would require further analysis. Inside observers say such a move, which would unilaterally discard the community's customary selection by a Minister's order, could risk being deemed unconstitutional.

Strahl has come under fire recently after documents leaked to the Globe & Mail revealed that INAC secretly plans to revive the Liberals' First Nations Governance Act, which includes challenging "flawed" or "outdated" customary selections of First Nation leaders.

The memo mentions the possibility of “barricades” and suggests informing the Quebec police to "ensure the supervision of the community in the days following the announcement of the new Council." Community members tried to bar Ratt from returning to the reserve in March, dragging trees along the reserve's access road. Ratt required escort by police, who arrested a dozen people and maintained a heavy presence in the community for two weeks, preventing Nottaway's council from accessing any administrative buildings.

While these earlier incidents received little attention, Barriere Lake acquired a higher profile after Nottaway's supporters blockaded a major Quebec highway in October and November 2008, rallying to the demand that INAC implement the Trilateral Agreement and appoint an observer to witness and respect the outcome of a new leadership selection. Nottaway was arrested and jailed for two months in the winter for his participation, arousing condemnation of the Conservative government from Green Party leader Elizabeth May, the NDP, and major unions.

Ratt issued a press release after the blockades stating the former council "focused too much of their attention on the trilateral agreement" and that it was time the "First Nation moves forward." INAC pulled out of the agreement in 2001.

The secret memo was released by the Ministry of Justice on March 13, almost a year after a request filed by lawyers for the Elder's Council was initially denied because INAC maintained they had not made a “decision” about leadership.

Withholding the document, INAC won a dismissal of the Elder's Council judicial review in August but then lost an appeal before a federal court in January. The Judge concluded that a reviewable "decision" had been made and emphasized that the legal status of the Ratt Council remained uncertain, despite recognition from Strahl. After another request for documents, a privacy commissioner green-lighted the memo's release. The court case over leadership will proceed this summer.

Martin Lukacs is a writer and activist, and a member of the Barriere Lake solidarity collective in Montreal.

Secret Memo: Barriere Lake

Barriere Lake Arrests

What is Equity

Paula LaPierre — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 18:41:16 +0000

Pain Compliance as Indigenous Relations

dru — Tue, 14 Oct 2008 18:54:07 +0000

Inside the Barriere Lake Algonquins' blockade of highway 117

I'm perched on an embankment overlooking Highway 117, an obscure but economically important link between Montreal and northern Quebec. To look at most maps, there's nothing here, five hours north of Montreal, well out of the cottage towns and ski resorts of the Laurentians and still two hours short of the cluster of resource extraction economies around Val d'Or (in English, Valley of Gold), where mining now focuses more on metals like copper, zinc and lead. I'm in the middle of a four hour stretch where most travellers could be forgiven for thinking was nothing but a few hunting lodges, logging roads and Hydro Quebec turnouts.

A girl, young enough that I have to bend down to hear what she's saying, climbs up the embankment and points at the highway.

"Look where we're colouring," she says.

I look. In the middle of the highway, a handful of kids--her age--are gathered around a card table, drawing on sheets of paper and colouring books with markers. Next to them, a dozen protesters hold signs, facing away from the kids' table. The signs say things like "no more pepper spray/arrests/batons," and "honour signed agreements."

Beyond the protesters, several trees lay across the road. A large banner reads "Honour your word," and "protect the environment, share the land's wealth."

Beyond the banner, a row of green-uniformed police officers spans the highway. They are slowly advancing.

As they get closer, the protesters begin yelling at the police.

"All we want is our agreement."

"Go home."

"Send in a negotiator."

The girl is standing beside me. "I'm scared," she says matter-of-factly.

The police advance slowly, advancing several steps, then stopping. Advancing again.

The line of police divides, leaving an opening. A column of perhaps fifty riot police emerges. They wear gas masks, oversized helmets in the Death Star style, and body armour under baggy uniforms. Each one carries a black baton. At times, some of them will hit their black-gloved hand with the baton, making what, to the person behind the mask, was probably a satisfying smack.

The police officer in charge issues a half-hearted warning over the cries of increasingly angry demonstrators.

"Leave the highway, or you will be arrested."

Seeing the masked troops, some run. I notice several children fleeing, but others stay, and more gather on the highway to protect the blockade. Elders and youth are the most abundant. I later realize that most of the adults cannot risk arrest because of conditions imposed on them after previous demonstrations.

The riot police silently line up on the far side of the highway, and begin pushing the demonstrators back. A crowd has gathered in front of the police, holding signs and yelling at the police. A scuffle breaks out, cops pulling protesters, protesters pulling their own away. An elder is arrested. I run on to the highway, trying to get a closer look.

Behind the colouring table, there is a row of concrete-filled barrels with PVC pipe running through them. A mix of Algonquin demonstrators and supporters from Ottawa and Montreal have attached their arms to these "lock boxes" with rope and carabiners in an attempt to forestall police breaking up the blockade. Next to them are tables and campfires, which a short time ago were used to serve bacon and eggs, and then beaver and moose, to those gathered at the blockade. Several people whose trips had been delayed by the blockade had joined in, drinking tea from pots warmed by small campfires, before police separated onlookers from blockade participants.

Seperated by a 100-metre buffer zone, the police could nonetheless be heard cracking jokes about "caisses de bieres," an eerie allusion to police transcripts revealed by the Ipperwash Inquiry, where police made racist jokes about Dudley George before they shot and killed him.

It also brought to mind the slur that made headlines a week before, when Algonquin spokesperson Norman Matchewan confronted regional Member of Parliament and cabinet Minister Lawrence Cannon. Speaking to Matchewan, Cannon's assistant said that negotiations could be conducted "if you're sober." She was caught on camera, and the "gaffe" was eventually reported coast to coast as one more example of a dangerous misstep by Harper's otherwise disciplined election campaign.

The onlookers were unable to see the sign advertising a ban on alcohol and drugs from the blockade, but that was a fraction of the gap between the Algonquins' understanding of the situation and those of the Quebeckers. It's a gap that is too often filled with racist assumptions before it can inspire curiosity.

I hear a loud pop. People scream, run away. Acrid white smoke billows from a canister launched by police, and I feel a familiar hollow sting in my throat and sinuses. My eyes burn, and well up, but I'm relatively unaffected. Elders, youth and kids around me are coughing and choking, tears streaming down faces. Another canister is launched. More running and tears. The police, apparently aware of existing negative connotations, will later deny that they used tear gas, preferring the term "chemical irritant".

A single CBC radio reporter maneuvres around tear gas and riot police, holding her microphone, looking stunned. The television cameras left an hour or so ago.

Immune to the effects of the gas, riot police rush to push people off the highway. The people in lock-boxes are still there, caught, for the moment, in the tear gas. One demonstrator stays behind to wipe their faces with water to lessen the effects. He will be tackled by three riot cops and arrested later.

Police move to shield the remaining blockaders from view, forming a human wall around the lock-boxes. Peering between riot police standing with batons at the ready, we can see an official (he's wearing a different uniform) giving orders. We see those locked in kicking or flailing in agony. We will later learn that police used "pain compliance" methods. We will hear from those who were locked in that the police pinched and pushed at pressure points, causing severe pain. We will hear that police told those locked in that by remaining, they were causing more pain to their comrades. We will hear that police used a crowbar to attempt to pry one blockader's arm loose. We will hear about sexual harassment. We will argue about whether or not "torture" is too strong a word to describe what the police did. We will decide that causing someone pain in order to convince them to do something they do not want to do does in fact qualify as torture, but that the media will not take us seriously if we use that word. An elder will say that "pain compliance" is a good description of the government's policies towards the Algonquins of Barriere Lake.

Barriere Lake is where we're headed now, though not voluntarily. Every few minutes, the assembled riot police rush forward, pushing the fifty or so demonstrators further up the access road that leads to Rapid Lake, the fifty-nine acre reserve that is, for the federal and provincial governments, the only officially recognized territory of the 500-member community of Barriere Lake, named for its traditional summer settlement at a nearby lake. The reserve was created in 1961.

Though they have lived here for thousands of years, the rest of the territory has been treated as terra nullius, empty land, and exploited accordingly. Hydro Quebec has built dams without consulting the community, in at least one case submerging a burial ground. Later, they improved their behaviour by notifying the community ahead of planned dam construction. The community was forced to move another burial ground to a nearby island.

Logging companies were allowed to clear the land with impunity, and with no benefit to the community. For years, community members peacefully blockaded logging roads, risking violence from loggers and violence from police.

Despite the presence of several Hydro Quebec dams, the community is still powered by a diesel generator. According to one estimate, $100 million in revenue is extracted from the Barriere Lake Algonquins' traditional territory every year. Of that $100 million, the community receives nothing, and employment opportunities are scarce.

Many of those at the blockade had been sent to residential schools as children. There, they were abused physically and sexually, and punished for speaking their mother tongue. The psychological legacy of this trauma has been compounded by the enforced austerity of the reserve, where unemployment, deep poverty and inadequate housing is the norm. Families sleep as many as 15 to a house, and many houses have fallen into disrepair.

Against this seemingly desperate backdrop, the community's resilience is impressive. Elders say that their connection to the land, which they see as intimately tied to their language, is alive and well. Community members hunt for food, rely on traditional knowledge to gather medicine and food, and are well acquainted with the land they still live on, despite the 59-acre boundary.

Their resilience extends to political dealings. After years of peaceful blockades of logging roads, the community signed the Trilateral Agreement with Canada and Quebec, a landmark resource-sharing agreement that was praised by the UN. One academic observer wrote that the agreement "constitutes a category of its own and is unmatched in its vision as well as in the problems its proponents have had to overcome."

"This Agreement was designed to address a situation, where a small aboriginal community, the Algonquins of Barriere Lake in La Verendrye Park, pursuing an essentially land-based way of life, saw themselves confronted with aggressive resource exploitation in their traditional use area..."

Cognizant that government policy does not recognize and accommodate aboriginal title to the land (at least, not in the current political climate), they came up with an innovative approach of curbing the logging, recreational hunting and damming that had taken place on their traditional territory while giving the community a say in where and when outside uses of the land would happen. The community spent considerable time and resources mapping out all of its traditional use areas, detailing their uses of the indigenous plant and animal life. The report advocates policies that "sustain and expand the environmental resource base," while enabling their traditional way of life to continue.

The first phase of the agreement was signed in 1991. Since then, the Federal and Provincial governments have done much to try to back out of it. Twice, they have played politics with divisions within the community, imposing minority faction Band governments against the customary leadership selection rules that Indian Affairs is supposed to uphold.

The last time they did that was in March. Under a Third Party Manager imposed by Indian Affairs in 2006, new staff were placed in schools, who punished children for speaking Algonquin. Peaceful blockades attempting to keep the imposed band chief off the reserve were met with pepper spray and arrests. Members of the last legitimately appointed chief and council and their supporters have faced systematic police harassment.

Since March, the Algonquins of Barriere Lake have demonstrated several times, always demanding the same things: that the government observe a leadership reselection process and acknowledge the result, and that the government uphold its obligations under the Trilateral Agreement. They have been to Ottawa several times. In one case, Algonquins and several supporters (I was among them) staged a sit-in in Lawrence Cannon's office.

Rather than promise to meet the demands or negotiate with the protesters, Cannon ordered police to remove us. Six were arrested.

Media coverage has been anemic. Officials have taken the cynical but effective tack of framing it as a complicated situation, with many competing interests and personalities. The truth of this is allowed to overshadow, if not block out completely, what is straightforward about the agreement, the community, and their desire to be able to continue their way of life and govern themselves with dignity. Faced with deadlines, journalists do the equivalent of throwing their hands in the air, allowing themselves to reduce Barriere Lake's conflict with the government to a "dispute" over "leadership". Racist assumptions do the heavy lifting, and the message becomes "Indians fighting over money."

A kid is in the back of a truck that's moving away from the advancing line of riot police. He's got a faux-gold-encrusted cap on that reads "millionaire." He sings the chorus of War's 1975 single:

"Why can't we be friends, why can't weee be friends."

The police are pushing us further up the access road that leads to the reserve. The Algonquins begin to react as if to an insult.

"What, are you going to walk with us all the way to Rapid Lake?"

"Are you going to trap us on that fifty-nine acres?"

"We'll keep coming back, we'll keep fighting."

The last protesters, isolated from hearing the yells of demonstrators, and made to feel excruciating pain with blankets over their heads, "clip out" from the lock-boxes, but we can no longer see them. The police have pushed us a few hundred metres back. Algonquins fall trees in the road and build fires to block their advance. The riot police step around the fires and keep coming.

It is past dark, five kilometres away from the highway, at the reserve. A former chief walks by.

"I guess we've got their answer, eh?"

He smiles as he says it.

Community members have gathered around a campfire. An elder addresses the non-native supporters.

"We're glad you came," she said.

"Now you see what they do to us."

Kids on the reserve are playing police-themed versions of childhood games. "I arrested you."

It's the next morning. The community is preparing a feast for the afternoon. Moose meat, fried bannock, fish caught between shifts at the blockade. An elder sits in his kitchen, fielding calls from the media. The coverage of the blockade and subsequent attack, initially minimal, has expanded to some of the national newspapers and radio. Countless organizations are hearing about Barriere Lake for the first time.

"We're going to keep fighting."

His tone makes it clear that there was never any doubt.

» Watch a Video of the events described here

» View more photos of the blockade

Kid with sign

Kids with Signs

Police attempt arrest

Video: Algonquin Blockade Attacked by Police

Lia Tarachansky — Thu, 09 Oct 2008 13:43:55 +0000

NOTE: NORMAN MATCHEWAN, SPOKESPERSON FOR THE BARRIERE LAKE ALGONQUINS WAS PUBLISHED TODAY IN THE MONTREAL GAZETTE!

Algonquins Hospitalized After Police Attack

Lia Tarachansky — Tue, 07 Oct 2008 19:11:12 +0000

ABL police.jpg

UPDATE: An Algonquin man is hospitalized the morning after Quebec police shot him in the chest with a tear-gas cannister. A disabled teenage girl was also treated with oxygen in the local Health Clinic. Twenty two children under eight and two babies were caught in the tear gas shot by the police.

To view photos

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Tuesday, October, 7, 2008

Canada and Quebec use riot police, tear gas, and "pain compliance" on peaceful Algonquin families to avoid negotiations: 'pain compliance' perfect description of Conservative's aboriginal policy, say community spokespeople

Kitiganik/Rapid Lake, Algonquin Territory / - Yesterday afternoon, the Conservative government and Quebec used riot police, tear gas, and "pain compliance" techniques to end a peaceful blockade erected by Algonquin families from Barriere Lake, rather than negotiate, as requested by the community. The blockade on Highway 117 in Northern Quebec began at 6:00am Monday, with nearly a hundred community members of all ages and their supporters promising to remain until Canada's Conservative government and Quebec honoured signed agreements and Barriere Lake's leadership customs. Around 4pm, nearly sixty Quebec officers and riot police encircled families after a meal and without warning launched tear gas canisters, one of which hit a child in the chest.

Barriere Lake Algonquins Slow Hwy 117

Lia Tarachansky — Tue, 30 Sep 2008 01:50:42 +0000

header.jpg

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Monday, September 29, 2008

Barriere Lake slows down traffic on Highway 117: continues to pressure Minister Lawrence Cannon and his Conservative Government to respect Barriere Lake's agreements and leadership customs

Kitiganik/Rapid Lake, Algonquin Territory Territoire Algonquin /- On the National Day of Political Action, at 1:30 pm, the Algonquins of Barriere Lake will slow down traffic on highway 117 to distribute flyers and raise awareness about the Conservative government's violations of their rights.

"The federal government must accept reasonable demands we've spent years trying to reach them about – that the government honour agreements they've signed with us and stop undemocratically propping up an illegitimate Chief and Council in our community," says Norman Matchewan, a youth spokesperson for Barriere Lake.

They want the Government of Canada to uphold an internationally lauded sustainable development agreement Barriere Lake signed with Quebec and the Conservative federal government in 1991. The Government of Canada has been in breach of the agreement since 2001.
To resolve the situation, Barriere Lake is demanding that the Government of Canada send observers to witness a leadership re-selection, in accordance with Barriere Lake's Customary Governance Code, in good faith recognize the outcome, and then cease all interference in their internal affairs.

– 30 –

Media Contacts:

Norman Matchewan, Barriere Lake spokesperson: 819-435 - 2171

Michel Thusky, Barriere Lake spokesperson : (819) 435-2171

Collectif de Solidarité Lac Barrière
*******************************************
www.solidaritelacbarriere.blogspot.com
barrierelakesolidarity@gmail.com
514.398.7432
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Algonquins Demand Justice in Ottawa

Lia Tarachansky — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 22:17:45 +0000

Barriere Lake Girl.jpg

The past month has been a hotbed of indigenous social justice activity in Ottawa. The Algonquin community of Barriere Lake has organized and carried out several actions alongside local organizers and ally groups.

On June 26th, 2008 a dozen Algonquins and supporters occupied the office of MP Lawrence Cannon, Stephen Harper’s Quebec Lieutenant. Cannon is the also the Minister of Transportation and MP Responsible for the Pontiac Region in Quebec, in which Barriere Lake is located.

“We came here today to demand a meeting with the minister,” said Acting Chief Benjamin Nottoway in front of the MP’s office in Buckingham, QC. His demand of the minister was “to call for a leadership reselection in our community. We hope to get a response by today, or we will stay here as long as it takes.”

The aboriginal activists and allies unfortunately could not stay, as by five in the evening they were forced to leave the office. Six were arrested, detained, and released later in the night, greeted by a crowd of cheering supporters.

The chief’s promise to continue putting pressure on the minister was not in vain as on July 16th almost a hundred members of the reserve of 450 came to Ottawa for a three-day protest and camp-out.

We’re here to demand the minister live up to the promise that he made to us,” said former chief Jean-Morice Matchewan. “They never kept one promise that they made to us,” he continued.

Chief of Barriere Lake Speaks

Lia Tarachansky — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 23:14:20 +0000

OTTAWA-Located two hours north of Montreal, the Algonquin community of Barriere Lake came to Ottawa to protest government interference in their reserve.
Demanding a meeting with MP Lawrence Cannon and a government-overseeing of governance reselection on their reserve, the community aims to correct a March coup d'etat carried out on their reserve.

The community's Customary Chief, Benjamin Nottoway, speaks with RabbleTV about the recent events on the reserve, the governance difficulties, and the struggle to protect the land.

Terry Matchewan, an Algonquin man who was part of the delegation to Ottawa was attacked alongside four other Algonquin men by Gatineau police and speaks of their targetting and wounds.