The Dominion - incarceration

You've Got Bail! (But No Freedom)

Moira Peters — Fri, 11 Feb 2011 13:11:46 +0000

Ryan Rainville, and the letter of G20 law

TORONTO—The men’s shelter doesn’t look like a prison. There are no bars on the windows, no sign announcing the building’s institutional status. The walls are decorated with posters about Indigenous pride and occasionally the air is tinged with the sweet smell of burning sage.

For Ryan Rainville however, it is a prison. He is not allowed to leave the shelter except to see his lawyer and for occasional group activities. There is a long list of people—some of whom he has never met—whom the courts have ordered him not to contact. Because of these conditions he can’t work or go to school.

"I went from being able to actually work and come up with my own money to not being able to work...It's driving me nuts that I can't go out there and look for work because I want to help my mom, and her partner," said Rainville, whose mother was recently diagnosed with cancer. "That poor guy is working double shifts so that he can keep up with the [medical] bills."

Rainville is charged with crimes related to alleged participation in the Black Bloc during the G20 protests. He was arrested August 5, 2010. His original bail was denied and he spent three months in pre-trial detention in prisons in the Toronto area before finally being granted bail on November 9, 2010.

During the G20 protests in Toronto in June 2010, more than 1,100 people were arrested in the largest mass arrest in Canadian history. Many more were detained or trapped in the rainy streets for hours between lines of riot police using a tactic called "kettling."

The now-infamous Public Works Protection Act, a Second World War-era law that was secretly re-enacted by the province—and which the Ontario Ombudsman called "illegal" and "likely unconstitutional" in a report released in December 2010—was used for arrests across a broad swath of downtown Toronto, even though the act was supposed to apply to the area inside the G20 security fence. In a video posted on YouTube, police officers were quoted as saying, "This ain't Canada right now; you're in G20 land." Only one man—environmental justice activist Dave Vasey—was formally charged under the Public Works Protection Act, but when he arrived at his court date, he found the charges had been "lost."

Many who were released from the temporary detention centre on Eastern Avenue allege beatings by police, threats of rape, strip searches of young women by male officers and widespread denial of the right to call a lawyer after arrest. Due cause was thin on the ground, and in many cases, passers-by were arrested. A Toronto Transit Commission worker in full uniform was arrested while walking between job sites. By the time of the first mass court date for G20 defendants in August 2010, only 300 people faced charges, 100 of which were dropped that day at the courthouse for lack of evidence, and 100 more which were dropped October 14, 2010.

Since the G20, police have engaged in what critics are calling a witchhunt against activists, arresting 11 from Ontario Coalition Against Poverty (OCAP) during a small demonstration outside Liberal Party headquarters in downtown Toronto. Authorities appear to be targeting particular kinds of activists on thin pretenses. Indigenous activist Jaroslava Avila was arrested after speaking at a health-related event on September 29, 2010, at the University of Toronto, only to have charges dropped for lack of evidence on December 20, 2010, after her name was released to the press and she had spent months living with restrictive bail conditions.

Rainville, 23, is active in Indigenous and working-class organizing. Friends describe him as a tireless activist, always ready with a joke or an insightful observation. He is of Cree background, but notes that he appears White, and therefore escapes the worst racial prejudice.

He is fluent in Spanish—his stepfather is from El Salvador and he taught himself the language while spending time in the country. Self-educated, Rainville is reading through a huge stack of books—political literature, texts on Indigenous land claims and Foucault’s Discipline and Punish. He was working on his high school diploma through an academic upgrading course at George Brown before he was forced to drop out due to post-G20 legal harassment. Prior to his current bail conditions, he supported himself through work as a factory laborer and as a baker.

Despite having no criminal record, Rainville was initially denied bail, and had to wait in jail for three months until his appeal was heard. Most other G20 defendants in this situation were released within days or weeks. Rainville attributes this disparity in treatment to poverty.

“My father is dirt-poor and works for just above minimum wage as a truck driver, and my mother lives in the US right now, and is also dirt-poor,” he said. “She was working in a factory for $7.25 per hour until she contracted breast cancer, for which she just had surgery today.”

Because of economic insecurity, he explained, his family has been forced to disperse from Toronto. This makes it difficult to get bail, as he would be unable to live with family if released. Neither can his family post up large amounts of money, nor purchase a plane ticket to Toronto to testify in court on his behalf. Each of these elements of a disadvantaged economic situation work against someone going through the court system.

“If you have a lot of money you are going to get more justice in this system,“ said lawyer Davin Charney, who is familiar with Rainville's case and is defending other G20 arrestees. “This doesn’t apply just to Ryan; this applies to people of the working class and impoverished people.” Charney said many people in economic difficulty find it hard to access bail, not only because they have trouble raising the large sums of money required, but also because they have trouble finding someone who will be respected by the court, and who has space to put them up if the court requires a residential surety—someone who can vouch for them. Homeless people, for example, do not have an address—a requirement to be granted bail.

Gary McCullough, who was arrested for driving near the G20 zone with most of his possessions in his car, experienced the judicial disadvantage of poverty that Charney cited. According to the Toronto Star, McCullogh was kept in prison with minimal health care and suffered a jailhouse beating, exacerbating his mental illness. He was initially denied bail because his elderly parents are unable to supervise him. He was only released December 6, 2010.

“People charged with what would be essentially the same crime are being treated very differently [than non-G20 related offenders],” said Charney. “For example, in my practice when people are charged with mischief it’s seen as a less serious offence, but for some reason because of the context of the G20 there is all this hysteria…They are pulling officers who would normally be on the homicide squad, or the sexual assault squad, and putting them to investigate these ‘mischief makers,’ which I find really upsetting. It’s a political decision on the part of the police.”

Byron Sonne, charged with computer crimes, has been incarcerated without bail since his arrest on June 22, 2010, before the G20 even started.

Activist Alex Hundert was preemptively arrested in the early morning on June 26, 2010, released on bail, then re-arrested. Police interpreted his speaking with several professors at an indoor panel at Ryerson University on September 17, 2010, as violating a bail condition about speaking at public demonstrations. He was released after the legality of this was challenged and after being forced under duress on October 13 to sign what he called “draconian” conditions. Ten days later, Hundert was re-arrested under the pretense of another alleged bail violation; he was recently released after taking a plea bargain with the crown.

Rainville was eventually released to a Native bail program at his hearing on November 10, 2010, with his father and two professors as sureties. But, contrary to normal procedure, Ryan’s bail conditions prevent him from leaving the shelter at all, even accompanied by his sureties. He also has a no-alcohol condition which he attributes to anti-Indigenous targeting. “Despite the fact that I’ve grown up with white-skinned privilege—and I do look like a settler—they are targeting me based on my Cree background with this whole alcohol issue.”

“Out” on bail, Rainville is technically free, but his is a pitiful freedom. Time spent confined at the shelter will not count toward Rainville’s time served if he is convicted at his trial, scheduled to take place in April. This situation was made worse by the fact that his mother was diagnosed with cancer, and he could only communicate with her by phone. The day he was interviewed at the shelter, she was having surgery. “They’re telling me that I’m free. But if I were free I’d be holding my mom’s hand next to her hospital bed right now in Louisiana.”

More recent tests found his mother to now be free of cancer.

Rainville can leave the shelter for medical and legal appointments and on group field trips with the shelter staff.

“Aside from that I’m forcibly confined...I basically feel like I’m in jail still, minus the fact my mail is not being torn through and I can read whatever literature I want, and I can have visitors not through a glass window. But aside from that I’m forcibly confined.” The front door of the shelter visibly bothers Ryan; he says he effectively acts as his own jailer.

“I’m doing it to myself, it’s basically out of this want to not end up in jail again,” he said. “I go crazy in this place sometimes. I have to stick to doing jumping jacks and push-ups in my room because I feel like a trapped animal.”

In spite of blatant denial of individuals’ civil rights by the Canadian state, G20 arrestees have been first to encourage Canadians to keep their arrests and detentions in perspective.

“It’s a hugely intrusive imposition,” said Hundert of bail conditions before he was placed on conditions which restricted his ability to talk to media, ”I think it’s supposed to disrupt the communities in which we organize and to be punitive despite the fact that we haven’t been convicted of anything.”

Rainville agrees. “Forget about this,” he said. “Forget about me having a little bit of privilege stripped away from me...This whole thing is a walk in the park compared to what they are doing to people like Omar Khadr.“

Megan Kinch is an activist and journalist in Toronto.

Ryan Rainville

Under Pressure

Moira Peters — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 06:28:59 +0000

Meek.Under Pressure.jpg

In an interview on CBC's As It Happens in January, Federal Minister of Public Safety Peter Van Loan agreed that Ashley's case was an example of the failure of the health care and justice systems. More recently, Van Loan was moved out of that portfolio when Harper shuffled his cabinet, making a federal inquiry less likely.

Land & Jail Part III

Moira Peters — Sun, 29 Mar 2009 15:00:21 +0000

Challenging the disproportionate incarceration of First Nations in Canada

TRADITIONAL TERRITORY OF SNUNEYMUXW FIRST NATION (NANAIMO, B.C.)–“It is a scandal that Chief Nottaway spent Christmas in jail for peaceful civil disobedience to demand governments live up to their responsibilities,” said Federal Green Party leader Elizabeth May at a January 7 rally in support of the jailed Customary Chief in Ottawa.

Chief Benjamin Nottaway of the Barriere Lake First Nation was sentenced to two months' imprisonment for peacefully proclaiming rights to traditional territories in Western Quebec.

In 2001, the government of Canada reneged on the binding 1991 Trilateral Agreement, a sustainable development and resource co-management agreement between Canada and the Barriere Lake First Nation.

The Algonquins of Barriere Lake First Nation are demanding that the government uphold signed agreements and the right to choose their Customary Chief and council.

In March 2008, the federal government imposed a council on the Barriere Lake First Nation and, in November, Customary Chief Nottaway was sentenced to jail.

Although the incarceration of Nottaway may be a scandal, it is not out of the ordinary in Canada. According to many Indigenous people, the disproportionate incarceration of First Nations people is part of an ongoing racist colonization process. There is a movement in Quebec to revive the traditional Native court.

In 1999, the Supreme Court judgement R. v. Gladue noted that a 1976-77 study of admissions to Saskatchewan’s correctional system “contains findings that should shock the conscience of everyone in Canada.”

The Office of the Correctional Investigator Canada reported on November 16, 2006, that whereas the number of federal prisoners in Canada decreased by 12.5 per cent, the number of Indigenous peoples in federal prisons increased by 21.7 per cent. During the same period, the number of Indigenous women imprisoned federally shot up by 74.2 per cent.

Furthermore, it reported that Indigenous Peoples were overrepresented in maximum security, placed in segregation more often than non-Indigenous prisoners, were more likely to be turned down for parole and endure longer periods of incarceration.

At Vancouver Island University's Shq'apthut (a gathering place), all Indigenous Peoples I spoke with saw racism underlying the disproportionate incarceration of Indigenous Peoples in comparison to other Canadians.

Winston Wuttunee, a Nehiyaw (Cree), identified institutionalization fostered by the Indian Residential School System and wardship as linked to high incarceration rates.

Douglas Blanchard, an advocate for the Metis Nation, pointed to the carry-over effect from the foster care system (“the child grab of the '60s”), which he sees as having morphed from the Indian Residential School program. He said many incarcerated Indigenous Peoples had gone through the foster-care system.

Auditor General Sheila Fraser found in her May 2008 report that children on reserves across Canada are at very high risk to wind up in under-funded, poorly tracked foster care.

Jaime Seaweed, an aspiring lawyer from the Kwakwaka'wakw First Nation, views the justice system as archaic and needing change. “The whole system is corrupt.” Seaweed calls for traditional healing—for everyone, she adds—restorative justice within communities and better access to lawyers.

R. v. Gladue did acknowledge the “principles of restorative justice and the needs of the parties involved.” It noted the importance of community-based sanctions for Indigenous Peoples and called on sentencing judges to take into account “the unique circumstances of Aboriginal offenders.”

"There are too many of our people in the prison institutions," Hereditary Mig'maq Chief Gary Metallic in Quebec told The Dominion.

"My life work has been in the reviving and reassertion of our ancient traditional governments and our jurisdictions," he said. "One very important area that we identified is the need to revive our Native courts to counter the newcomers' courts that have been responsible for the illegal colonization of our lands and resources, and...incarceration of our peoples during the colonization process.

"The Mig'maq of our 7th District in Gaspe were fortunate in the '90s to have Dr. Bruce Clark work with us in the revival of our traditional Native court, called the Confederated Native Court, which consisted of four nations: the Mig'maq, Algonquin, Passamaquoddy and the Mohegan Nation; together we sat and deliberated on the illegal takeover of our lands and resources, and passed judgement which was titled The Confederated Native Court Judgement."

Chief Metallic says his group is closely watching the Barriere Lake First Nation case and had informed the judge and court that they “had no legal jurisdiction over unceded Algonquin territory and therefore the traditional people charged in the blockades had in fact never broken any laws when protecting their traditional territory.”

Metallic expects chicanery from the Quebec legal system, but the Confederated Native Court intends to reveal Quebec's “pretended jurisdiction” upon unceded Algonquin territory. The next step will be an impartial, third-party adjudication process in a neutral international forum to render “an unbiased ruling based on the evidence before it.”

"We will no longer be on the receiving end of their racist and foreign judicial systems that have been responsible for the illegal colonization of our peoples," says Metallic.

"Perhaps by reintroducing our Native courts we can stop the over-incarceration of our peoples within the prison system."

Read parts I and II of this series.

Kim Petersen is the Original People's Editor at The Dominion.

Benjamin Nottaway

Land & Jail Part II

Moira Peters — Mon, 05 Jan 2009 10:45:19 +0000

Canada's incarceration strategy

NANAIMO, BRITISH COLUMBIA–Armed Ontario Provincial Police (OPP) entered the Six Nations Territory of Douglas Creek in Caledonia, Ontario – about 20 kilometres east of Hamilton - on September 19 of this year. According to witnesses, the OPP jumped a resident, “beat him down,” and arrested him while threatening other residents not to interfere.

The Crown, after repeated arrests and jailings, reached a deal with the defense on September 29 to have activist Shawn Brant plead guilty to involvement in two blockades in Desoronto, Ontario, in April 2007. The Crown agreed to drop all but three of the mischief charges, with Brant to receive a sentence of time already served pretrial, a 90-day conditional sentence, and one year of probation.

Brant cited familial considerations behind his agreement with the Crown. However, OPP Commissioner Julian Fantino still faces scrutiny over his controversial threats to Brant. Ontario New Democrat MP Peter Kormos chided Fantino for his “pugnacious and bellicose” remarks and his “Rambo-style policing.”

Brant challenged Fantino afterwards: “Commissioner Fantino has always said he couldn’t comment because [the case is] before the courts. Well, now it’s settled, and it's time the public hears from Mr. Fantino.”

****

Incarceration of First Nations people has been the long-standing strategy for Canadian authorities.

The Supreme Court of Canada stated on April 23, 1999, in R v. Gladue: “If overreliance on incarceration is a problem with the general population, it is of much greater concern in the sentencing of aboriginal Canadians.”

R v. Gladue referred to the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples which held that the “crushing failure” of justice meted out to Original Peoples was due to “the fundamentally different world views of Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people” and that it “emphasize[d] the importance of an understanding of history.”

In the vein of this recommendation, it is important to note that culturally insensitive and racist proclamations have long been a part of the Canadian criminal justice and political establishment’s make-up. Meanwhile, provincial authorities continue the use of aggressive strategies in disputes with Original Peoples. At Barriere Lake First Nation, in October of this year, the Quebec police used tear gas and “pain compliance” techniques against peaceful demonstrators, including elders and children, said witnesses.

Canada’s first prime minister, John A Macdonald, exposed an animus toward the Métis in writings to his London agent: “These impulsive half-breeds have got spoilt by their emeute," he wrote, "and must be kept down by a strong hand until they are swamped by the influx of settlers.”

The controversial deputy superintendent general of Indian Affairs, Duncan Campbell Scott, testified before a Special Committee of the House of Commons examining the Indian Act amendments of 1920:

I want to get rid of the Indian problem.
...
Our objective is to continue until there is not a single Indian in Canada that has not been absorbed into the body politic and there is no Indian question, and no Indian Department, that is the whole object of this Bill.

In 1991, the Kanienkehaka community of Kanesatake was at odds with the township of Oka, ON over the township’s proposal for a golf course expansion and condo development on land claimed by the Kanienkehaka. The Sûreté du Québec, Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP), and the Royal 22nd Regiment were brought in to break up the Kanienkehaka blockade.

Racism was heightened by the Oka Crisis. Warrior Publications informed of “white mobs” burning and hanging effigies of Kanienkehaka warriors from lamp posts.

In 1995, a group of Original Peoples had gathered to hold the previously banned Sundance ceremony at Ts’peten (Gustafsen Lake) in central British Columbia. There the celebrants were accosted by ranch hands and told to vacate the land. This led to a major standoff over the unceded Secwepemc land of the Canoe Creek First Nation.

Prior to the mobilization of the RCMP at Ts’peten, Bruce Clark, legal counsel for the Ts’peten Defenders (as the defenders of indigenous title were called), informed the RCMP that action against the Sundancers would be illegal according to international and constitutional law.

Clark reminded the RCMP of their duty “to respect and to defend the rule of law” that he insisted was "clear and plain.”

Clark applied logic to remediate the crimes committed against the Original Peoples: “Legal justice requires that the rights usurped be restored, and that reasonable compensation be made for past transgressions. Territory should be restored where it has been illegally taken away. And the existing aboriginal right to govern upon that territory should be respected.”

Fifteen of the 18 Sundancers at Ts’peten were found guilty, including Secwepemc Elder Wolverine (William Jones Ignace), who was found guilty of mischief to property and other crimes.

Wolverine contended that ranch “owner” Lyall James was a squatter on indigenous land.

“It’s the real criminals who are in control here. The judges," he said. "The lawyers. The politicians. And in the enforcement arm, the RCMP and its agencies. These are the real criminals because they're covering up the theft of native land.”

Clark stated that the treaty process is designed to “extinguish the Indians’ natural law, international law and constitutional law right of jurisdiction that otherwise is not supposed to be ‘molested or disturbed’ by domestic crown governments, their courts or their police.” Clark implicated the judiciary in the “theft of jurisdiction” and cover up of genocide. An RCMP management team video depicted Ryan relaying orders from Superintendent Len Olfert: "Kill this Clark and smear the prick and everyone with him," and, "Clark is a goddamned snake."

The Law Society of Upper Canada v. Bruce Clark acknowledged on June 19, 1996, that “the ‘genocide’ of which Mr. Clark speaks is real” and inescapable. Despite this, Clark was disbarred in 1999 for being “ungovernable.”

Clark does not flinch from indicting many of his peers in the genocide. He contends that the judiciary is running the “perfect scam,” “the absolute quintessence of crime personified” by preventing an impartial third party from ruling on the genocide perpetrated on the Original Peoples in Canada. Wrote Clark, “The moment you get third party adjudication, it’s game over for these criminals.”

Kim Petersen is the Original Peoples Editor for The Dominion.

For more on Canada's strategy of incarceration, see "Land & Jail: Ipperwash, official racism, and the future of Ontario," also by Kim Petersen.

Six Nations Cops