Latest news with #Colonialism
Yahoo
06-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Artist Jason Baerg on Canada Day's reminder of stolen land and broken promises: 'Canada is a colonial project'
Artist Jason Baerg. Artist, designer and educator Jason Baerg is clear-eyed about what Canada and its celebration mean — and doesn't mean — for many Indigenous people across the country. Baerg, who uses they/them pronouns, says it plainly: 'Canada is a colonial project." It's a statement that cuts to the root of Canada Day's enduring controversy: For many Indigenous people, it marks not a national celebration but a reminder of stolen land and broken treaties. As a Cree-Métis artist raised in Red River, Saskatchewan and now based in Toronto, Ontario, Baerg's very life and practice are acts of resistance, continuity and reclamation. 'I'm Indigenous and German — my father came from Germany, and I was raised by my Métis mother,' Baerg explains. 'So, every day is Indigenous for me. That's how I live my life.' Yahoo News Canada presents 'My Canada," a series spotlighting Canadians — born-and-raised to brand new — sharing their views on the Canadian dream, national identity, and the triumphs and tribulations that come with life inside and outside these borders. Canada Day: 'Weird thing to unpack' for many That lived experience means Canada Day doesn't bring up the same kind of pride or joy others might feel. 'It's a weird thing to unpack,' they say. 'It's funny how many people don't even understand the basics, that First Nations have their own governments, that they're independent nations.' Advertisement Baerg doesn't dismiss Canadian identity entirely. They acknowledge: 'I'd be a fool to think I do not participate in a greater network of people that includes settlers. When I think about what it means to participate in that kind of nationalism, which is kind of fabricated, I think about continuum, where we are, out story. It's complex.' That sense of continuum shows up powerfully in Baerg's work. As an interdisciplinary artist working across painting, fashion and digital media, their art is deeply rooted in Indigenous epistemologies, visual languages and futurism. 'I'm interested in sustainable fashion, in the presence and visuality of Indigenous people through their contemporary art practices,' they say. 'There's real intention there of how [we] participate in culture, and build and disseminate who we are as Indigenous people.' Artist Jason Baerg. As a teacher, Baerg wants students to learn where they're from Baerg also brings that philosophy into the classroom at OCAD University, where they teach and mentor the next generation of artists, many of whom — and, crucially, not all — are Indigenous. Advertisement 'The artist has to know who they are before they can say anything to the world,' they say. 'So, I have my students research their own traditional homelands. It helps them understand their position and gives them cultural material to work with in their art. I'm grounding them in having them acknowledge that their ancestors are from a different place, and I'm also serving them the opportunity to get to know themselves even more, because I truly believe that the artist has to know who they are before they can say anything to the world.' In other words, that sense of knowing isn't just about identity, it's also about place. Baerg believes deeply in connecting students to the land, and in challenging Canadian institutions — artistic, educational and political — to do better. 'It's not enough to have conversations anymore; art and education are just the beginning. We need action. We know communities don't have clean water, so fix that. We know curriculum is lacking, so change it.' We know communities don't have clean water, so fix that. We know curriculum is lacking, so change it. And for Baerg, that change has to start early. They point to models in places like Australia where Indigenous culture is embedded in early childhood education. Advertisement 'Why not here?' they ask. 'If you're in Toronto, every child should know how to say 'hello' in Haudenosaunee or Anishinaabe. That kind of cultural fluency should be foundational. We should be bringing local Indigenous custodians into schools and daycares. Geography lessons should happen on the land with those who know it best.' There are already some glimmers of this vision in Canada. Artist Jason Baerg: 'The government has taken so much away' Baerg highlights Saskatchewan's treaty education mandate from kindergarten to Grade 12 as an example. But they also express frustration at the pace of progress, particularly when funding is often the first thing to go. 'The government has taken so much away ... And I don't want to entertain that anymore. I want us to envision something better and then go build it.' Advertisement Despite all this, Baerg remains optimistic. Their hope doesn't come from institutions, but from community. 'I see us moving forward in good ways, with or without institutional support,' they say. 'We train our own, we respond to our own needs, and we move.' What they want most — for Canada, for Canadians — is a shift toward meaningful collaboration. At the heart of that is a simple but powerful wish: respect. 'I'd love to see more harmony and more collaboration,' Baerg says. 'Genuine respect. If we looked at each other as kin, we'd be in a much better place.'
Yahoo
04-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Artist Jason Baerg on Canada Day's reminder of stolen land and broken promises: 'Canada is a colonial project'
Artist, designer and educator Jason Baerg is clear-eyed about what Canada and its celebration mean — and doesn't mean — for many Indigenous people across the country. Baerg, who uses they/them pronouns, says it plainly: 'Canada is a colonial project." It's a statement that cuts to the root of Canada Day's enduring controversy: For many Indigenous people, it marks not a national celebration but a reminder of stolen land and broken treaties. As a Cree-Métis artist raised in Red River, Saskatchewan and now based in Toronto, Ontario, Baerg's very life and practice are acts of resistance, continuity and reclamation. 'I'm Indigenous and German — my father came from Germany, and I was raised by my Métis mother,' Baerg explains. 'So, every day is Indigenous for me. That's how I live my life.' Yahoo News Canada presents 'My Canada," a series spotlighting Canadians — born-and-raised to brand new — sharing their views on the Canadian dream, national identity, and the triumphs and tribulations that come with life inside and outside these borders. That lived experience means Canada Day doesn't bring up the same kind of pride or joy others might feel. 'It's a weird thing to unpack,' they say. 'It's funny how many people don't even understand the basics, that First Nations have their own governments, that they're independent nations.' Baerg doesn't dismiss Canadian identity entirely. They acknowledge: 'I'd be a fool to think I do not participate in a greater network of people that includes settlers. When I think about what it means to participate in that kind of nationalism, which is kind of fabricated, I think about continuum, where we are, out story. It's complex.' That sense of continuum shows up powerfully in Baerg's work. As an interdisciplinary artist working across painting, fashion and digital media, their art is deeply rooted in Indigenous epistemologies, visual languages and futurism. 'I'm interested in sustainable fashion, in the presence and visuality of Indigenous people through their contemporary art practices,' they say. 'There's real intention there of how [we] participate in culture, and build and disseminate who we are as Indigenous people.' Baerg also brings that philosophy into the classroom at OCAD University, where they teach and mentor the next generation of artists, many of whom — and, crucially, not all — are Indigenous. 'The artist has to know who they are before they can say anything to the world,' they say. 'So, I have my students research their own traditional homelands. It helps them understand their position and gives them cultural material to work with in their art. I'm grounding them in having them acknowledge that their ancestors are from a different place, and I'm also serving them the opportunity to get to know themselves even more, because I truly believe that the artist has to know who they are before they can say anything to the world.' In other words, that sense of knowing isn't just about identity, it's also about place. Baerg believes deeply in connecting students to the land, and in challenging Canadian institutions — artistic, educational and political — to do better. 'It's not enough to have conversations anymore; art and education are just the beginning. We need action. We know communities don't have clean water, so fix that. We know curriculum is lacking, so change it.' We know communities don't have clean water, so fix that. We know curriculum is lacking, so change it. And for Baerg, that change has to start early. They point to models in places like Australia where Indigenous culture is embedded in early childhood education. 'Why not here?' they ask. 'If you're in Toronto, every child should know how to say 'hello' in Haudenosaunee or Anishinaabe. That kind of cultural fluency should be foundational. We should be bringing local Indigenous custodians into schools and daycares. Geography lessons should happen on the land with those who know it best.' There are already some glimmers of this vision in Canada. Baerg highlights Saskatchewan's treaty education mandate from kindergarten to Grade 12 as an example. But they also express frustration at the pace of progress, particularly when funding is often the first thing to go. 'The government has taken so much away ... And I don't want to entertain that anymore. I want us to envision something better and then go build it.' Despite all this, Baerg remains optimistic. Their hope doesn't come from institutions, but from community. 'I see us moving forward in good ways, with or without institutional support,' they say. 'We train our own, we respond to our own needs, and we move.' What they want most — for Canada, for Canadians — is a shift toward meaningful collaboration. At the heart of that is a simple but powerful wish: respect. 'I'd love to see more harmony and more collaboration,' Baerg says. 'Genuine respect. If we looked at each other as kin, we'd be in a much better place.'


The Guardian
29-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Kneecap lead anti-Starmer chant during politically charged Glastonbury set
Kneecap began a politically charged set at Glastonbury on Saturday afternoon, leading the crowds in chants of 'Fuck Keir Starmer!' The Irish rap act took to the stage at 4pm for their controversial set, which had been criticised by the UK prime minister as not 'appropriate'. The PM's comment came after band member Liam Óg Ó hAnnaidh, known as Mo Chara, was charged with a terror offence for holding a Hezbollah flag at a London gig last November. 'We understand colonialism and we understand how important it is to support each other internationally,' said Ó hAnnaidh on the band's support for the people of Gaza who have suffered at the hands of Israel's military and through a lack of aid deliveries. Later on Saturday, an Avon and Somerset police spokesperson said the force was assessing comments made by Kneecap during their set. They told the Guardian: 'We are aware of the comments made by acts on the West Holts stage at Glastonbury festival this afternoon. 'Video evidence will be assessed by officers to determine whether any offences may have been committed that would require a criminal investigation.' During the Kneecap performance, a sea of at least 200 Palestinian flags made it difficult for cameras to get a clear shot of the stage from inside the crowd. 'The BBC editor is going to have some job,' Chara joked, referring to the flags. Earlier the broadcaster confirmed it would not be able to support a live stream of the performance. The broadcaster has not yet confirmed when the footage will be available on iPlayer. Users of the Glastonbury app received a push notification almost an hour before the band were due to perform saying the West Holts stage was closed. However, spectators were still getting in 20 minutes before the start of the set. The show opened with clips of news and various TV discussion shows, with politicians and commentators saying the group should be banned and had been 'avoiding justice for far too long'. There was booing from the crowd for Sharon Osborne calling them a 'pathetic band'. 'Glastonbury I'm a free man!' shouted Ó hAnnaidh, to wild cheers from the crowd. 'If anybody falls down, you've got to pick them up. We've got to keep each other safe,' he added. The group, who rap in English and Irish, performed an energetic set including Your Sniffer Dogs Are Shite, Get Your Brits Out and Fine Art in front of a backdrop which said 'Free Palestine', occasionally varying with other phrases including 'Fuck Badenoch', referring to the leader of the Tory party. The crowds chanted: 'Free Mo Chara, free free Mo Chara!' 'Mo Chara's back in court for a trumped up terrorism charge,' said Móglaí Bap, also known as Naoise Ó Cairealláin. 'It's not the first time there's a miscarriage of justice for an Irish person in the British criminal justice system,' he said. Ó hAnnaidh cut a defiant figure, saying his plight in the courts was nothing compared to the suffering of the Palestinian people. The band urged people to come out to support Ó hAnnaidh at his next court date at Westminster magistrates court. 'I want to say a big thank you to the Eavis family [organisers of Glastonbury],' Ó hAnnaidh added, for 'holding strong' in the face of criticism. Asked on Wednesday about the controversy, organiser Emily Eavis said: 'There have been a lot of really heated topics this year, but we remain a platform for many, many artists from all over the world and, you know, everyone is welcome here.' On numerous occasions, the trio chanted 'Fuck Keir Starmer!', with the crowd passionately shouting back. They also had the crowds chanting the Irish republican slogan, 'tiocfaidh ár lá', which translates as 'our day will come'. The band laughed with the crowd asking: 'Is anyone going to see Rod Stewart tomorrow?' The 80-year-old rocker was criticised ahead of his Pyramid stage performance after saying he thought the public should give Nigel Farage 'a chance'. Describing him as Rod the Prod, Ó hAnnaidh said: 'I mean, the man's older than Israel.' Paloma Faith, the musician and public speaker, was in the crowd for Kneecap's performance. She told the Guardian: 'A lot of people are now being demonised because there's such a fear of terrorism. And I understand that fear but I don't think that Kneecap have anything to do with that. They're all about the soul and the heart of freedom of people. 'I don't know anyone who likes to see children being killed on such a huge scale for any reason and I think [Kneecap] stand by that. Obviously they come from the perspective of a marginalised community at the hands of British colonialism.' She said artists who speak out on human rights issues were worried about being misquoted by the press or having their words taken out of context at a time when peaceful activists are coming under increasing attack from governments. She added: 'Everyone's a bit scared now. People are going to jail for stuff that isn't what we perceive as violent. It's scary times.' It comes after the home secretary, Yvette Cooper, said on Monday that the pro-Palestinian campaign group Palestine Action would be proscribed under anti-terror laws. If approved in parliament in a vote next week, this would make membership and support of the group illegal and punishable with a prison sentence under anti-terror laws. On stage, Kneecap reiterated their support for the group and band member JJ Ó Dochartaigh, known as DJ Próvaí, wore a Palestine Action T-shirt, underneath a red boiler suit associated with the group as he surfed the crowd.
Yahoo
30-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
The Mysterious Disappearance and Lingering Legacy of Michael Rockefeller
"Hearst Magazines and Yahoo may earn commission or revenue on some items through these links." More than 1,800 works from five continents are showcased in the reimagined Michael C. Rockefeller Wing of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which is set to reopen on May 31 following a multiyear renovation. Among them are pieces that the late Rockefeller personally collected from Dutch New Guinea 64 years ago, when he was 23 years old. Rockefeller, the youngest son of then-New York Governor Nelson Rockefeller, never returned from that trip to a continent 9,000 miles away. Michael Rockefeller disappeared on Nov. 19, 1961, after swimming away from his overturned catamaran several miles off the coast of New Guinea, seeking help for himself and an anthropologist companion. Land was visible but far away—it could have been as far as 10 miles. Rockefeller's last words to that friend were 'I think I can make it.' After an intense search by multiple governments joined by thousands of people, not a trace of Rockefeller was found. On Feb. 2, 1964, a Westchester County judge declared Michael Rockefeller 'died by drowning … while on exploration off the coast of Dutch New Guinea.' That conclusion has been questioned ever since, with theories ranging from Rockefeller being eaten by sharks or crocodiles, willfully escaping from Western society to live in New Guinea, being captured and held prisoner by indigenous tribes, and being murdered and even consumed by tribes that practice headhunting and cannibalism because of a grievance against Dutch police. The questions about Rockefeller's fate have not died away but seem to be growing ever-louder, fueling an army of podcast episodes, YouTube videos, documentaries, and a New York Times bestseller, Savage Harvest: A Tale of Cannibals, Colonialism, and Michael Rockefeller's Tragic Quest, by journalist Carl Hoffman. For some, the disappearance without a trace of a handsome young man with a famous last name has become a nostalgic scandal in our modern era of true crime documentaries and Internet sleuthing. In the photos that survive of Rockefeller in New Guinea, he looks as if he's mesmerized by his surroundings, lending a sense of foreboding to the images. He was 'routinely described as kind, gentle, hardworking, and without pretense,' Hoffman wrote in Savage Harvest. However, being so young and coming from one of America's richest families may have not equipped Rockefeller with the perception and caution needed in a place that could be dangerous. When Rockefeller traveled among New Guinea's Asmat people, seeking objects to acquire for his father's new museum of then-called 'primitive art' near the Museum of Modern Art, 'he seemed unconscious of his own role in distorting the local economy and disrupting village ceremony, or of the contradictory nature of his entire enterprise. Here was the heir to one of the largest fortunes on earth plundering sacred objects for pennies—the most privileged person on earth dabbling in the world of the most marginalized,' Hoffman wrote in Savage Harvest. In a recent interview, Hoffman says, 'The legacy of Michael Rockefeller is a conversation we can have about the collecting of indigenous art. We can use his story to talk about him and about the practices of collecting art now that we know better' than in 1961. Michael Rockefeller was raised in New York City. He attended Phillips Exeter Academy in New Hampshire and graduated cum laude from Harvard University with a degree in history and economics. But art always called to him. Michael was 'the most purely aesthetic member of the family,' according to The Rockefellers, an American Dynasty, by Peter Collier and David Horowitz. He showed enthusiasm about art from a young age, which was a tradition in the Rockefeller family. Nelson Rockefeller's mother, Abby Aldrich, was the driving force behind the founding of the Museum of Modern Art in New York City. 'On his honeymoon, Nelson collected the first object (a Sumatran knife handle in the shape of a shrunken head) in what would become the best primitive art collection in the country,' according to The Rockefellers. At the age of 31, Nelson was the president of MoMA. As a child, Michael enjoyed accompanying his father on weekend art dealer visits and being around great works of art. He wanted to study architecture but was pressured to major in economics, according to books about the Rockefellers. After a six-month stint in the U.S. Army Reserve, Michael heard about an exciting opportunity: an expedition by the Film Study Center at Harvard's Peabody Museum. A group of anthropologists and a film crew were planning to study tribes in the Baliem Valley in Dutch New Guinea 'untouched by Western culture' in order 'to step back into the Stone Age.' Michael was hired as a sound man and photographer for the film. 'He had a great eye for beauty and craftmanship,' Hoffman says. Michael was transformed by the trip, taking many photographs and writing letters that reflected his fascination. He was particularly drawn to the Asmat tribe in the coastal area of New Guinea, writing, 'The Asmat is filled with a kind of tragedy. For many of the villages have reached that point where they are beginning to doubt their own culture and crave things western.' Michael deeply wanted to understand and honor these cultures. The Asmat were famous for their elaborate woodcarvings, particularly ancestor poles (called bisj poles) and spirit masks. However, the Asmat also carried a reputation for headhunting, which was embedded in their spiritual beliefs and complex rituals of revenge against rivals. While the Dutch later assured the Rockefellers that headhunting had been eradicated in the area, many authorities agree it was still going on in the 1960s. Michael flew home to New York after the Peabody film was finished and he had completed his subsequent trip to see the Asmat. In the last weeks of his trip, he'd purchased a number of bisj poles and some shields. According to Hoffman's reporting, Rockefeller paid for the Asmat people's work with tobacco, axes, fishing lines, and hooks. While back in New York, his parents announced a decision to divorce, which upset all the children. Michael decided to return to New Guinea as soon as possible in order to collect the art of the Asmat. According to some sources, he was determined to turn away from a finance career and seek a graduate degree in anthropology. When Michael went to New Guinea for his second trip, he bartered for poles, canoes, drums, shields, and other carved objects—hundreds of objects. Rockefeller was traveling among the Asmat communities when rough waves overturned his catamaran and, after 24 hours clinging to it, he decided to swim to shore, assuring his anthropologist friend he was a strong swimmer. Michael Rockefeller had a twin sister, Mary, who accompanied their father Nelson to fly to New Guinea after Michael was reported missing. She wrote in her book, When Grief Calls Forth the Healing: A Memoir of Losing a Twin, 'All the evidence, based on the strong offshore currents, the high seasonal tides, and the turbulent outgoing waters, as well as the calculations that Michael was approximately 10 miles from shore when he began to swim, supports the prevailing theory that he drowned before he was able to reach land.' No conclusive evidence of another fate besides drowning has ever been introduced to a legal authority. However, following Michael's disappearance, rumors began to spread of a killing and were collected by the Dutch priests who lived among the Asmat as missionaries. In his book, Hoffman, who traveled to the Asmat region twice and learned the Indonesian language spoken there, investigated these persistent rumors. He uncovered some of the initial reports made to Dutch officials and, to immerse himself in the community, briefly lived in the home of a man believed to be related to a member of the group that may have killed Michael. One theory is that Michael was killed not because of personal animosity toward him but because he, as a white man, represented white authority. Five Asmat men were shot in a Dutch police altercation several years earlier. 'It was a struggle between the powerful and the conquered,' Hoffman says. Rockefeller was caught among colliding forces, Hoffman believes. While trying to honor the Asmat, Michael's collecting reflected 'colonialism and the acquisition of the treasures of the conquered.' It's beyond debate that Michael Rockefeller was drawn to the beauty, complexity, and mystery of the bisj poles. He wrote that the poles showed 'a revenge figure …. Whose placement usually preceded a headhunt in former days. The figures represented people who have been headhunted and will be avenged.' In the reimagined Michael C. Rockefeller wing, visitors will see those Asmat woodcarvings and soaring poles, illuminated by filtered daylight from Central Park through a custom-designed, state-of-the-art sloped glass wall. The wing's galleries are devoted to three major collections: the Arts of Africa, the Ancient Americas, and Oceania. Among the monumental statues and exquisite metalwork displayed today, objects that span five continents and hundreds of cultures, the art of the Asmat has a valued place. In 1962, when Rockefeller's collected objects were first shown in New York and people could see the bisj poles, drums, shields, and ancestor figures, the New York Times said it was "a collection that has no counterpart on this continent." Art is not Rockefeller's only legacy. In 1965, his family created a memorial fellowship at Harvard. The fellowship enables recipients to "seek, as Michael did, a deeper understanding of our common human experience and their part in it, through the respectful exploration of a different culture." Since then, more than 200 Rockefeller Fellows have traversed the globe. Michael Rockefeller's life was cut tragically short. He left footprints that can be seen, and shared, many decades later. You Might Also Like 12 Weekend Getaway Spas For Every Type of Occasion 13 Beauty Tools to Up Your At-Home Facial Game


The Guardian
30-05-2025
- General
- The Guardian
King Charles's visit brings frustration for First Nations amid ‘backslide in reconciliation'
King Charles's speech to Canada's parliament this week was framed as a subtle rebuke to Donald Trump's threats of annexation and an assertion of the country's sovereignty. But for many Indigenous people, the elaborate spectacle of the royal visit – with its protocol, regalia, thrones and mounties in pith helmets – evoked a model of national identity at odds with ongoing efforts to confront Canada's own violent history of colonization and dispossession. The visit came as some Indigenous Chiefs and academics warned that questions of reconciliation with First Nations are being drowned out by the noisy surge of patriotism provoked by the US president. 'There's only so much oxygen in the room and it gets all sucked up with standing up to Trump. It's 'Indigenous people, you're important – but not right now'. That's a strategy of settler colonialism too,' said David MacDonald, a political science professor at Guelph University in Ontario from Treaty 4 lands in Regina, Saskatchewan. Canada was formed to promote unity among British colonial territories and to stop American expansion – and it was created through genocidal violence against Indigenous people, said MacDonald. 'We need to be careful not to fall back into those historical patterns, because it's pretty easy for a lot of settler Canadians to think that's the way it has been and should be, especially if we appeal to older historical figures,' he said. Indigenous leaders also highlighted the irony of such high-profile declarations of Canadian sovereignty when First Nations are themselves forced to make similar assertions to Canada's own federal government. Canada's federal government admits that colonial efforts to forcefully assimilate Indigenous peoples, and the displacement of First Nations on to inhospitable reserves have all contributed to shorter life expectancy, poverty and illness. Indigenous communities have repeatedly been forced to turn to the courts in order to force the federal government to meet its obligations under centuries-old treaties between First Nations and the Crown. In one case last year, Canada's highest court ruled that the crown had made a 'mockery' of a 1850 agreement by failing to adequately compensate First Nations for the riches extracted from their ancestral territories. 'We were sovereign. We still are sovereign. And you have to respect that we enter these treaties to make sure that we share land and resources – and therefore Canada, the colonial state, must share revenue as well,' said Chief David Monias, of Pimicikamak Okimawin in Manitoba, at a press conference following the King's speech. Grand Chief Krya Wilson of the Assembly of Manitoba Chiefs welcomed the King's decision to mention Indigenous rights, meet and acknowledge that Canada's parliament building sits on traditional Algonquin territory. But she added: 'There was talk of truth and reconciliation. But … we've heard the term 'reconciliation' for years now,' she says. 'And what we are expecting – and what we've been expecting for years – is tangible action.' National Chief Cindy Woodhouse Nepinak, who is head of the Assembly of First Nations, said that during her meeting with the king she stressed the need for 'less colonialism'. 'People don't like this [US] colonialism that's happening at the borders,' she said. 'But first nations have been feeling that for a long time: colonialism trying to dictate our lives.' Over the past 20 years, Canada has engaged in a fitful reckoning with its colonial past, with a 2015 report from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) concluding that the country had engaged in a 'cultural genocide' in which tens of thousands of First Nations children were forcibly removed from their families and incarcerated in residential schools rife with abuse. A major shift in public discourse also came four years ago this week, when remains of 215 children were confirmed outside a former residential school in southern British Columbia. But that historical reassessment has been drowned out by a surge of nationalism in response to Trump – often invoking the iconography of British colonialism, said Rowland Keshena Robinson, an assistant professor of political science at the University of Waterloo in Ontario, who is a member of the Menominee Nation of Wisconsin. On the day of Charles' speech, the Ontario government announced that a statue of John A Macdonald, Canada's first prime minister, would be put back on public display, five years after activists threw paint on it to highlight Macdonald's efforts to eliminate Indigenous people including through starvation, 'There absolutely has been a backsliding in reconciliation in the last five years,' Robinson said. Macdonald argued that Canadians face a unique opportunity to define themselves as different from the US not through loyalty to Britain but through by enacting true reconciliation with Indigenous people. 'What's the opposite of a dictatorial, authoritarian presidential system? It's a decentralized system where Indigenous people have control over their own lands, waters and keep large corporations from digging everything up,' he said. 'That would be the most anti-American thing a Canadian could do,' he said. 'If the narrative could change Indigenous self-determination could be a central part of Canadian identity.'