N.S. judge reprimanded for conduct had undiagnosed mental disorder, review says
In a decision released Thursday, the majority of the three-person review committee said provincial court Judge Alain Bégin was suffering from an undiagnosed mental disorder at the time of his poor conduct, but he's sought treatment and the illness is now in "remission." The report does not identify Bégin's disorder.
"The relationship between Judge Bégin's personal medical issues and his conduct was a key factor for the majority's conclusion that removal was not an appropriate outcome for the complaints," the majority decision from two members said.
"While it did not excuse or mitigate its impact, it does help to explain how and why the misconduct occurred."
Investigation
The review examined complaints against Bégin involving three cases. In one, he called a man on trial for abusing a stepdaughter a "sexual deviant" and said he had "no doubt" he was guilty, comments he made before final arguments in the case.
When the case was appealed, the Nova Scotia Court of Appeal had trouble listening to the recording of the trial because Bégin had put restrictions on the audio, claiming his comments were "off the record."
In another case, the Court of Appeal called his conduct "offensive to societal notions of fair play." During a hearing, Bégin called his own witnesses from the Mi'kmaw Legal Support Network to refute what he referred to as baseless allegations that he was biased against Indigenous offenders. Lawyers for the defendant had asked him to recuse himself from the case due to comments he had made. The judge accused one of them of being unprepared and misleading, a view the Court of Appeal found was not supported.
In a third case, he referred to a sexual assault as an "aggressive pass" and made other comments the review committee said could be interpreted as minimizing the seriousness of sexual assault.
Committee divided
Bégin admitted to the "very serious misconduct," according to the review committee. He agreed to a reprimand, must apologize to a number of people, communities and the public, continue treatment for his mental illness, be mentored by a senior judge, and take a number of courses.
Bégin declined an interview request from CBC News. His lawyer, Frank Addario, said in a statement that Bégin knows his conduct fell below what he and his community expected, and he will be making apologies. He took time off for treatment and has returned to the bench.
"Judge Bégin regrets his conduct and the impacts that it had on the community, including victims, defendants, court staff, and his colleagues," the statement said.
"Judge Bégin knows it is an immense privilege to be a judge, and he tries to approach his job conscientiously. He made mistakes because of some personal and professional challenges he was facing in recent years."
A spokesperson for the Nova Scotia judiciary said Judge Alan Tufts, the chair of the review committee, would not be commenting. The other two members of the committee were Joseph Gillis, who was appointed by Nova Scotia's minister of justice, and Melanie Petrunia, who was appointed by the Nova Scotia Barristers' Society.
The committee was not unanimous in its decision not to send Bégin to a judicial council hearing. Petrunia argued he should be, writing that his conduct rises to the level where removing him from the bench "may be warranted."
She noted the Court of Appeal used words like "astonishing," "startling," "alarming" and "disturbing" to describe his conduct in the case involving the stepfather.
She said there was a need for "transparency and accountability." A hearing before the judicial council would allow for "the proper consideration of the impact of the judge's behaviour on the Indigenous community, in light of the principle of reconciliation."
While she did not want to diminish Bégin's mental illness, she said a hearing could more rigorously examine his medical issues and whether those were mitigating factors in his behaviour.
Support from other judges
The other two members of the panel, however, found Bégin should not be sent to a full hearing. They noted letters of support for him from four judges.
Chief provincial court Judge Perry Borden, who "initiated" the three complaints against Bégin, also wrote a letter saying he didn't believe Bégin should be removed from the bench or suspended, and he "would be pleased to continue to work with him."
"The majority concluded that Judge Bégin's removal from judicial office was not necessary and that the agreed resolution would be capable of maintaining the public's confidence in the judge's ability to perform the duties of his office and in the administration of justice generally," the majority decision said.
It said that after a medical leave, Bégin returned to the bench a year ago. The Nova Scotia courts website lists him as presiding in Dartmouth.
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Winnipeg Free Press
7 hours ago
- Winnipeg Free Press
Indian Act's ‘second-generation cut-off' poses an existential threat to treaty people in Canada
Lou Moodie is gesturing at an easel with a golf club. On the paper behind his makeshift pointer is a set of unconventional math formulas, including 6(2) + 6(2) = 6(1) and 6(1) + 6(1) = 6(1). 'I call this 'Indian arithmetic!'' pronounces the 61-year-old from Nisichawayasihk Cree Nation. With that, Moodie starts quizzing the group of 15 or so people assembled at a hotel on Long Plain First Nation's urban reserve in Winnipeg, for this April training session on the intricacies of Indian status. Moodie is the retired recreation superintendent for Nisichawayasihk, some 850 kilometres northwest of Winnipeg, who, with the enthusiasm of a camp counsellor, runs a game of Simon Says and jokes about the foibles of technology. ('This mouse did not eat today!' he quips when a file won't load.) Despite moments of levity, the topic Moodie has driven nearly 20 hours round-trip to talk about — a particularly convoluted section of the Indian Act — is not a lighthearted one. Lou Moodie wants to see the cut-off repealed; in the meantime, he's trying to help families get around its limits. (Mikaela MacKenzie / Free Press) Written into law in 1876, the Indian Act has long sought to control the lives of First Nations people in Canada, including the very question of who — as far as the federal government is concerned — is an 'Indian.' And though that term is considered offensive when used by non-Indigenous people, it remains the signifier lodged in Canadian law. The part of the act Moodie is concerned with is a more recent addition — it became law on April 17, 1985. After this date, whenever a First Nations child is born to two parents with Indian status, they can be registered under Section 6(1) of the Indian Act. But when a child is born to one parent with status and one without (or where the child's father is not identified), they can only be registered under Section 6(2). People with 6(2) status are faced with a harsh reality: unless they parent with another person with status, their children will no longer be eligible for status. This is known as the 'second-generation cut-off.' Moodie describes the cut-off as genocide 'in paper form' — a discriminatory, assimilationist policy designed to legally get rid of First Nations people, akin to earlier iterations of the Indian Act, which forced First Nations children into residential schools. He wants to 'take a flamethrower to this entire sub-section' and see it repealed. In the meantime, he's trying to help families get around its limits. 'We want to determine who our members are. We, First Nations, not you,' Moodie says. 'We don't want this category 6(1), 6(2). We're not numbers — we're human beings.' Indian status is the vehicle for First Nations people to access the rights and benefits to which they are entitled. And while many First Nations people see the concept of status as offensive and paternalistic, there's also the sense that without it, the federal government could skirt the responsibilities, obligations and promises it has made to First Nations people. As far as its significance, holding status can give a person the right to hunt and fish on their treaty lands; to reap (often minuscule) treaty payments; receive financial aid for post-secondary education; and a tax exemption for income earned on-reserve. It also provides insurance for certain health-care costs, such as counselling, dental work and medications. As trailblazing Cree lawyer Delia Opekokew said in 1986, the reasons for someone desiring status are not just legal, but social. They might include the pride of being part of a collective group, with a protected birthright; the right to live in one's community; and even in death, to be buried on-reserve and remain there with the ancestors of their First Nation, Opekokew explained. The 6(1) and 6(2) delineations were added to the Indian Act in 1985 as a result of legislation known as Bill C-31, which ended the federal government's practice — over more than 150 years — of stripping status from First Nations women who married non-status men. (First Nations men who married non-status women did not receive the same treatment; in fact, their spouses were given status). While Bill C-31 enabled tens of thousands of First Nations women and some of their descendants to receive status, it quietly implemented a more restrictive system for passing on status than had existed before. The current system, which has seen several piecemeal amendments since 1985, is often described with words like incomprehensible and nonsensical — or, as an act of 'retaliation.' For children born after April 16, 1985 Today, of the 1.1 million status First Nations people in Canada, nearly 325,000 — or 29 per cent — are registered under Section 6(2). With their descendants at risk of being excluded from their rights, the second-generation cut-off has triggered a disquieting question: without treaty people, what happens to treaty lands? Even Ottawa has previously stated that the status populations of First Nations are expected to decline in the coming generations because of its restrictive rules, which could impact federal government funding. Virtually since the cut-off was enacted, there have been calls for its repeal. They've come from a Senate committee; from First Nations political bodies like the Southern Chiefs' Organization; legal scholars and advocates like Sharon McIvor, whose landmark case in 2009 forced Ottawa to remedy some of the lingering discrimination against women in the Indian Act; and recently, the United Nations Committee on the Elimination of Discrimination against Women. 'I think we have inadvertently invited in an evil that threatens our very existence as treaty Indians,' wrote Jack Grieves of the Keewatin Tribal Council, which represents 11 First Nations in northern Manitoba, in a 1992 open letter. Predicting that Bill C-31 would ultimately lead to a declining treaty population and 'empty and unowned' reserves, Grieves went on to ask: was it already too late? 'Is there anything we can do to remedy this situation confronting our treaty people and those who thought they were getting their treaty rights back for future generations?' Growing up on the south side of Berens River in the 1960s, Carrie Whiteway Prystupa was taught to be self-reliant. Still decades before a road would eventually come to the community on the eastern shore of Lake Winnipeg, homes were built with logs, water was hauled from a hole in the ice and light came from coal-oil lamps or gas lanterns. Across the river was Berens River First Nation. In the winter, Whiteway Prystupa's family would travel there by snowmobile, and in the summer, by boat. And that's the name of where Whiteway Prystupa grew up: 'agamiing,' meaning 'across' in Saulteaux, which she grew up speaking. This isolated piece of land, cleared by her Whiteway family, was also known as the 'Métis side' of the river. As far as Whiteway Prystupa was aware at the time — and, as far as the federal government was concerned — she and her family were Métis. When Whiteway Prystupa and her family visited relatives and shopped for essentials on the reserve, that separation was clear. Some people referred to them as 'ozagamoog,' or, 'outsiders.' Carrie Whiteway Prystupa poses for a photo in the early 1960s on the 'Métis side' of Berens River, along with five of her eight siblings. From left to right (lower) is Carrie, Eileen, Diane (held by Eileen), Myrna and Jo-Ann. At top is Whiteway Prystupa's maternal grandfather Jacob, who is holding Gilbert, and grandmother Alice. Not pictured is her sister Nancy, while siblings Jackie and Stan hadn't yet been born. Alice was the granddaughter of the first chief of Berens River First Nation. (Supplied) It hadn't always been that way. Nearly a century ago, Whiteway Prystupa's grandmother, Sarah, a status member of Berens River, married a non-status man. Her Indian status erased, Sarah left the reserve and went agamiing, where, with her husband, she raised 10 children, including Whiteway Prystupa's father — none of whom held status growing up. Thirty-odd years later, in 1955, Whiteway Prystupa's mother, Helen, who also was a status member of Berens River, married her father, Fred. Helen had attended an Indian day school run by Roman Catholic nuns and her great-grandfather was a signatory of Treaty 5. Nonetheless, with their marriage, Helen also lost her status and went to live agamiing. Several years after Bill C-31 passed, Whiteway Prystupa, who was then in her early 30s and married with three kids, became a status member of Berens River for the first time. Four decades later, she explained what it meant: 'Maybe, I am not 'ozagamoo,' an outsider, after all.' But for her descendants, this reclamation of status could prove brief. Carrie Whiteway Prystupa grew up believing she was Métis. She is among those calling for a repeal of federal legislation that she says is discriminatory and fails to recognize her heritage. (Mikaela MacKenzie / Free Press) With Whiteway Prystupa's marriage to a non-status man, the second-generation cut-off has begun to loom over their family. Her first son, who was born in 1982 before C-31 was passed, was ultimately able to be registered under Section 6(1). But her younger two sons, born in 1986 and 1991, were registered under Section 6(2). Though all of her three sons have non-status spouses, their dates of birth are critical. The children of Whiteway Prystupa's oldest son have 6(2) status, while the future children of her two younger sons will not be entitled to it. It was about five years ago when Whiteway Prystupa first learned there are two different types of status — and what that could mean for her descendants. And Whiteway Prystupa is not alone; she notes many First Nations people aren't aware of the cut-off. But Whiteway Prystupa is not giving up. Whiteway Prystupa written a book called Neen Ozagamoo, or Me an Outsider, which she self-published earlier this month. (Mikaela MacKenzie / Free Press) Last summer, she heard Lou Moodie talk at a Treaty 5 summit. That meeting led to her to join Moodie and other grassroots organizers on a cross-country trip to Ottawa, where they spoke with federal politicians and staff, calling for the repeal of categories 6(1) and 6(2). Whiteway Prystupa has also written a book called Neen Ozagamoo, or Me an Outsider, which she self-published earlier this month. 'I feel I'm being discriminated against and targeted,' she said. 'That's our inheritance.' Like Whiteway Prystupa, Joy Budd grew up without status, thinking she was Métis. After Bill C-31 passed, Budd became a member of Cumberland House Cree Nation in Saskatchewan. When she was signing her first status card as a teenager, Budd remembers a membership clerk telling her she held 6(2) status — and couldn't pass it on to her children. 'At that time, I didn't know what it meant — I'm 16 years old. And now the complication has come,' said Budd, who goes by Glenda, and now lives in Thompson. For Budd's family, the story of their loss of status began with the Second World War. Like other First Nations men, Budd's biological grandfather was 'enfranchised' — removed from the Indian registrar — as a result of his service in the Canadian military. While he was away at war, Budd's grandmother married a Métis man, losing her status as a result. In the next generation, Budd's father married a Métis woman and then when Budd, with 6(2) status, had children with a Métis man, the second-generation cut-off came to pass. Her kids weren't eligible. Budd raised her kids as a single mother — and despite her working consistently, there were financial challenges associated with her children being non-status, such as saving up for costly dental work. 'We were struggling just to try and have basic needs met. That means my children, I could never afford college or university for them,' she said. Joy Budd gained 6(2) status following the passing of Bill C-31 in 1985. However, her children and grandchildren currently lack status.(John Woods / Free Press) Budd lived for two years on the Cumberland House reserve when her kids were younger, but because they were non-status, they were not allowed to go to the treaty school. Her children are now 32 and 28 years old. Even though her son had children with a woman who has 6(2) status, his three children remain ineligible for status. Two have specific medical needs, but, because they are non-status, they aren't eligible for support from Jordan's Principle for medical appointments, she said, referring to the federal government's legal obligation to ensure First Nations children have access to proper health care, among other supports. Because of amendments to the Indian Act in 2017, known as Bill S-3, Budd is likely eligible to have her status changed to 6(1). If successful, her son could receive 6(2) status and her grandkids could receive 6(1). For years, Budd has been asking questions about whether she might be eligible for 6(1) status, but she never received concrete answers. First Nations advocates point out that because of the law's convoluted nature and Ottawa's failure to communicate its far-reaching implications, only a fraction of the people eligible to register as a result of Bill S-3 have actually done so. For people who were born before April 17, 1985 (or whose parents married before that date), and whose grandmother had their status taken away through marriage, S-3 means that they are eligible for 6(1) status. In the meantime, Budd wants Section 6(2) repealed. 'What's at stake is our Indigenous culture, our treaty rights, our rights as Indigenous people,' she said. As Budd pointed out, the treaties signed between Indigenous peoples and the Crown were meant to be in place for 'as long as the sun shines, the grass grows and the rivers flow.' 'And, you know, the sun is still shining, even though it's smoky over Thompson. I know there's a sun out there somewhere,' she said. The idea for the second-generation cut-off appears to have originated in a federal committee hearing in 1982. A now-defunct First Nations organization suggested a kernel of the policy, though specified that any child with less than 50 per cent First Nation ancestry should have their status determined by their band. According to Indigenous Services' website, to request a status category amendment you must compile the following: Your First Nation's office may be able to receive your application, or these documents can either be brought in-person to Manitoba's regional office at 361 Hargrave St. in Winnipeg, or mailed to: Application Processing Unit Indigenous Services Canada Box 6700, Winnipeg, MB R3C 5R5 The committee weighed the proposal warily: '(this) would probably create another series of inequities regarding children who do and do not have status in the same family.' Still, it became law soon after. Nearly four decades later, in 2019, a report on the lingering gender discrimination in the Indian Act flagged the cut-off as the inequality of 'greatest concern.' Smaller, non-isolated communities with a higher rate of 'marrying out' were set to see the negative effects more quickly, some in a single generation, wrote Claudette Dumont-Smith, a special representative to the Crown-Indigenous relations minister. She recommended the federal government launch a consultation process over the cut-off, which began in late 2023. A committee of Indigenous organizations was appointed to advise on how to proceed. According to an initial report, these organizations emphasized the need for First Nations people to have support conducting geological research. The Assembly of First Nations Manitoba also suggested the creation of a records office that would allow people to trace how their family lost status. Indigenous Services has also published a fact-sheet for each First Nation detailing the number of members who hold 6(2) status. (In Manitoba, this group represents 15 to 45 per cent of First Nations' overall status membership — see data for each First Nation in a chart below.) The same disclaimer is found on each fact-sheet: 'even as your Nation's population grows over time, (your Nation's) total registered populations are likely to decrease in size,' however in a comment this week, an Indigenous Services' spokesperson said their latest projections show the status population continuing to grow until the end of the modelling period in 2066. Public-facing consultation events and engagement sessions have yet to begin, the spokesperson, Eric Head, confirmed. Minister of Indigenous Services Mandy Gull-Masty leaves a caucus meeting on Parliament Hill in Ottawa. Despite repeated requests, Gull-Masty was not made available for an interview by press time. (Sean Kilpatrick / The Canadian Press files) Despite repeated requests, beginning a month ago, Indigenous Services Minister Mandy Gull-Masty was not made available for an interview by press time. Head said the department is committed to working with First Nations to address the cut-off, and added that the current consultation process is not focused on 'whether to address the issue, but on how to address the issue.' Claire Truesdale, a non-Indigenous lawyer who has helped around 50 people apply for status, believes more urgency is needed. She pointed to the fact the federal government has known for years — at least since the McIvor case in 2009 — how problematic the cut-off is. 'They've acknowledged that this is a problem but they have been incredibly slow to do anything about it,' she said. The government's stance — that there is not agreement among First Nations on how to proceed — is a poor reason for failing to act with urgency, she said. 'Kids are being excluded now,' she added. Drew Lafond, president of the national Indigenous Bar Association, said the question of Indian status has essentially become a 'red herring.' 'The debate over who is — and who is not — a status Indian, I think, ignores the fundamental, or foundational question of when did Indigenous peoples, if ever, relinquish their jurisdiction over determining who is and who is not a citizen of their nation?' Lafond said. 'To my knowledge, that has never taken place,' added the lawyer, who has long worked on issues surrounding status and citizenship, and is a member of Muskeg Lake Cree Nation in Saskatchewan, though he points out he maintains kinship relationships throughout Western Canada. A federal government that 'facilitates and authorizes' the disenrolment of Indigenous people without their consent is a violation of the human rights of Indigenous people, Lafond said, referencing Article 9 of the United Nations' Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, which states Indigenous people have the right to belong to their community or Nation in accordance with that group's traditions and customs. 'To say nothing of how ridiculous the formula has become over the years,' he added. In the past, the federal government has taken an ominous tone when discussing the possible effects of repealing the cut-off. During a Senate committee hearing in 2022, Christiane Fox, then a deputy minister with Indigenous Services, warned the move would lead to 250,000 more people with status, 'at minimum,' which, she added, 'will substantively impact the registration process and, of course, programs and services that are offered.' According to demographic projections by Statistics Canada, which had been produced just days before Fox's Senate appearance, the cut-off's repeal would lead to 173,000 extra registrants by 2041 in a medium-growth scenario. More recent modelling projects an even lower number: 121,800 extra registrants by 2046, according to Statistics Canada records obtained through an access-to-information request. What's clear from the records is that the federal department is closely tracking the financial implications of changing its registration criteria. (The Free Press filed a similar request with Indigenous Services nine months ago; after requesting a lengthy extension and failing to meet that deadline, the department has yet to provide the files.) The records give a sense of the possible population impacts facing First Nations — if changes are not made. In a medium-growth scenario, the annual rate of growth of the status population is projected to take a nosedive: from 2.05 per cent in 2021 to 0.05 in 2066. In a low-growth scenario, the growth rate is projected to 'turn negative' by 2055, indicating a decline in the overall population size. What's also clear from these records is that the federal department is closely tracking the financial implications of changing its registration criteria. In an email last fall, a project leader for Indigenous Service's registration reform team wrote: 'The team and I would like to begin costing out the differences in costing between keeping the registration provisions as is versus remedying the second-generation cut-off.' Seated in a Winnipeg hotel restaurant booth, Lou Moodie places a file on the table that speaks to his mission — it shows a family's successful journey in getting their child's status changed from 6(2) to 6(1). Because the father wasn't initially listed on the child's birth certificate, the child had been registered under section 6(2). Lou Moodie has made it his mission to educate First Nations peoples on how to reclaim status. (Mikaela MacKenzie / Free Press) While the federal government has taken some steps to make it easier for children to acquire status when their father is not listed on their birth certificate or is not known, the Indian Act still assumes the father is non-status if not identified. (Moodie often points out that there are many reasons for a woman not identifying the father, from relationship breakdowns to high-risk scenarios like rape or domestic violence.) In this child's case, the process involved ordering a new long-form birth certificate — not a copy — with the father included; filling out a statutory declaration from Indigenous Services, which has to be signed by a notary; and then mailing the package with copies of the parents' ID, along with, Moodie suggests, a letter of intent, reiterating the father's information. It's easy to use the wrong form or miss a spot for an initial, which can lead to lengthy delays. One of Moodie's pieces of advice is to avoid using correction tape and instead, cross out and initial any mistakes. But in this case, just a few weeks later, a letter arrived saying the child's registration category code had been amended. Since his retirement two years ago, Moodie has been travelling to First Nations to train their staff on how to convert children with 6(2) status to 6(1), as well to register non-status kids, when possible, while running a TikTok channel, where, with his daughter's help, he's amassed roughly 10,000 followers. He's also been hosting two-day conferences, with help from his family, including his wife, Edna; his son, Lou, Jr.; and his 'Irish son' Garrett, whom he adopted as an adult. He has no funding source behind him, whether from the federal government or his First Nation, which is what he tells people irritated by the $800 cost of his conferences. With nearly 325,000 people holding 6(2) status in Canada, Moodie points out that this problem isn't a theoretical one, it's already here. Depending on with whom these people parent, 'That's 325,000 treaties gone — just like that,' Moodie says, snapping his fingers. But there's another reason for Moodie's urgency. He wants his own grandchildren to be free to choose who they grow up to love, marry and have children with. 'I don't want (my granddaughter) to ever come to say to me, say, 'Papa, can I go out with this Anglo Saxon?' Don't ask me that question, if you love the man, go ahead. I'll never, ever say to you, 'no, no, you stick with your own,'' Moodie says. 'I've never agreed with that — never will.' Marsha McLeodInvestigative reporter Signal Marsha is an investigative reporter. She joined the Free Press in 2023. Read full biography Our newsroom depends on a growing audience of readers to power our journalism. If you are not a paid reader, please consider becoming a subscriber. Our newsroom depends on its audience of readers to power our journalism. Thank you for your support.
National Observer
19 hours ago
- National Observer
Carney talking major projects with Inuit leaders in Inuvik
An Inuit leader who met Thursday with Prime Minister Mark Carney to discuss the federal government's controversial major projects legislation says he has been assured the bill respects treaty rights. Natan Obed, president of Inuit Tapiriit Kanatami, told reporters in Inuvik, N.W.T., that leaders attending the meeting of the Inuit-Crown Partnership Committee with Carney have had a "fulsome conversation" about Bill C-5. "We've had reassurances that the bill … will not interrupt the processes under our modern treaties and that there will be full partnership of Inuit within these processes," he said. Carney spent much of Thursday meeting with Inuit leaders to discuss the legislation, also known as the One Canadian Economy Act. Ahead of the meeting, Inuit leaders said they had a lot to work through with the federal government. During an afternoon break in the meeting, Obed said Carney was unequivocal in saying the legislation would not violate modern treaties. "When it comes to project reviews, the focus has been on what types of nation-building projects are Inuit interested in building, how can we identify those projects together, and then, how can we make good on those projects by implementing them," he said. Inuit leaders said they've received reassurances that the bill will not interrupt the processes under their modern treaties with Canada, and that their people will be invited to participate in full partnership with Carney's government. "So the prime minister and his cabinet ministers couldn't have been any clearer in their assurances to Inuit leadership about the upholding of the constitutionally protected agreements that we have with the Crown." The recently passed One Canadian Economy Act gives Ottawa the power to fast-track projects it considers to be in the national interest by sidestepping environmental protections and other legislation. Some Indigenous leaders have accused the federal government of failing to consult with them adequately when the legislation was being drafted and amended. Obed previously criticized the federal government over the legislation and told senators studying it last month that Ottawa has been hypocritical in its approach to reconciliation. He said at the time the legislation doesn't respect Indigenous Peoples' rights and warned that fast-tracked projects could end up before the courts. One court challenge has already been launched by First Nations asking a judge to find the legislation unconstitutional. Carney promised the day the bill was passed to hold talks with First Nations, Inuit and Métis leaders to get input on how projects can proceed. After Carney met with First Nations leaders in Ottawa last week, some chiefs said they were left with more questions than answers and no clear idea of how the government plans to implement its agenda. In his opening remarks Thursday, Carney said there's much work to be done on closing infrastructure gaps and improving social services in the Arctic, and warned that the region's security is under threat. He also insisted that Bill C-5 "fully respects" treaty rights. "It fully respects treaty-based environmental assessment processes," said Carney. "In fact, those will be essential for anything that we move forward. "What the act does is it creates conditions for the federal government to be more effective and efficient in our part of the partnership." Several cabinet ministers, including Northern Affairs Minister Rebecca Chartrand and Indigenous Services Minister Mandy Gull-Masty, also attended Thursday's meeting. — With files from Alessia Passafiume and Dylan Robertson in Ottawa.
Vancouver Sun
21 hours ago
- Vancouver Sun
Carney tells Inuit leaders his new major projects law ‘fully respects treaty rights'
OTTAWA — Prime Minister Mark Carney told Inuit leaders that his government's major projects bill 'fully respects treaty rights' a week after several Indigenous leaders left a recent meeting with him in a state of frustration , saying their treaties were being undermined. On Thursday, Carney was taking part in a meeting of the Inuit-Crown Partnership Committee, co-hosted by the president of Inuit Tapiriit Kanatami Natan Obed, in Inuvik, NWT, to discuss Bill C-5, known as the One Canadian Economy Act. In his opening remarks, the prime minister said he wanted to make 'absolutely clear' in the context of this forum on what the legislation could do and what it doesn't do. Start your day with a roundup of B.C.-focused news and opinion. By signing up you consent to receive the above newsletter from Postmedia Network Inc. A welcome email is on its way. If you don't see it, please check your junk folder. The next issue of Sunrise will soon be in your inbox. Please try again Interested in more newsletters? Browse here. 'I want to be clear, up front, that the act fully respects treaty rights, including modern treaties, the modern treaties with Inuit treaty organizations. It fully respects treaty-based environmental assessment processes,' he said. 'In fact, those will be essential for anything that we move forward,' he added. Minister of Crown-Indigenous Relations Rebecca Alty added: 'At the end of the day, treaties are above this law. They have to be respected, and that's always been the case with this bill.' According to the government of Canada's website , treaties are agreements made between the Crown, Indigenous groups that define rights and obligations. They include historic treaties and modern treaties, also called comprehensive land claim agreements. Treaties are enshrined in section 35 of the Constitution Act. In 2021, the Liberal government passed legislation to make sure all federal laws are consistent with the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, which relates to treaty rights. Assembly of First Nations (AFN) National Chief Cindy Woodhouse Nepinak had raised some alarm bells about C-5 before it was tabled and passed in June , saying that the proposed bill suggested 'a serious threat' to the exercise of treaty rights by First Nations. The legislation, which was fast-tracked in Parliament to become law in late June, gives Carney's cabinet the authority to designate projects, such as pipelines, ports and highways, in the 'national interest' and speed up the federal approvals process. In response to criticism from Indigenous leaders who said they had not been properly consulted on the bill, Carney announced he would be holding three summits. A first meeting with First Nations was held last week in Gatineau. Carney met with Inuit leaders in Inuvik on Thursday and he is set to meet with Métis leaders sometime in August. After last week's meeting, Alberta First Nations chiefs held a press conference to reaffirm their opposition to the legislation which they said does not respect treaty rights. 'This bill aims to include First Nations in a unified economy, but in reality, it undermines treaty and inherent rights by assimilating us into a system that did not create consent,' said Vernon Watchmaker, chief of Kehewin Cree Nation. 'A few invited voices do not speak to the treaty relationship of the diverse nations across Turtle Island (Canada),' he added. Chief Sheldon Sunshine, of Sturgeon Lake Cree Nation, took issue with the government's plan for an Indigenous advisory council which will be a part of the major projects office that will move projects ahead. Carney has said the office will be up and running by Labour Day. Sunshine said the proposed council, which will include First Nations, Inuit and Métis representatives, is a 'colonial construct' and 'not grounded in treaty relationships.' 'Its existence and operation undercut our treaty rights by placing our futures in the hands of an unelected body and reports to the Prime Minister's Office, not to our people,' he said. 'It is used to divide and dilute Indigenous voices, creating the appearance of inclusion while excluding those who assert inherent and treaty-based jurisdictions.' In a recent interview with National Post, Deliah Bernard, former Indigenous affairs adviser to prime minister Justin Trudeau, said there is 'no one-size-fits-all approach to what consent should and could look like' with Indigenous groups. 'There are going to be regional disparities. There are going to be regional priorities. There are going to be circumstances that impact a community in one subsection of the country that necessarily may not impact in the same way… different parts of the country.' 'That's why the principle of consultation and consent is so crucial and so critical,' said Bernard, now co-founder of the Indigenous affairs agency Roots Strategies. Carney underscored last week that his government was only at the starting point of a much longer consultation process that would have to unfold with individual communities. He also promised to put $40 million towards ensuring Indigenous leadership is involved in further discussions, including on the question of which projects should be fast-tracked. Indigenous Services Minister Mandy Gull-Masty pointed to how having Indigenous participation was part of the criteria for determining which projects would make the cut, referring to comments made by Carney directly to First Nations chiefs last week. 'The likelihood of these projects advancing or being completed without Indigenous people at the table… to me, sounded like zero,' Gull-Masty said. While in Inuvik, Carney also announced the appointment of a new Arctic ambassador. Virginia Mearns, an Inuit leader based in Iqaluit who held senior positions in the government of Nunavut, will start her mandate effective September 15. In this role, Mearns will focus 'on reinforcing Canada's Arctic engagements with like-minded partners and multilateral forums, bolstering Arctic sovereignty Arctic sovereignty, and advancing opportunities for security and growth' according to Carney's office. — With additional reporting from Stephanie Taylor. National Post calevesque@ Our website is the place for the latest breaking news, exclusive scoops, longreads and provocative commentary. Please bookmark and sign up for our newsletters here .
