Short piece in Rabble by Sarah Hunt: “Why are we so hesitant to name white male violence as a root cause, yet so comfortable naming all the “risk factors” associated with the lives of Indigenous girls who have died? Why are we not looking more closely at the “risk factors” that lead to violence in the lives of the perpetrators? Isn’t that truly where the responsibility for this epidemic lies? When Pickton was convicted, why didn’t we see national coverage of the root causes of his actions and that of other white male serial killers?”
This is Corey Snelgrove’s summary of his MA Thesis, drawing connections between environmentalism, colonization, and what he calls “settler stewardship”–settlers’ ways of knowing and relating to the land perpetuate and reify settler colonialism. All of this is grounded on Lekwungen Territory, in “Victoria” where he did his MA, and he also gestures towards productive alternatives where settlers are taking leadership from indigenous peoples and supporting indigenous relationships to land, worked through his participation in the Community Toolshed here:
“This orientation marks a difference between the Tool Shed and settler stewardship, and this difference is shared by many of those participating in the Tool Shed. For example, discussions with Community Tool Shed participants reveals a recognition of the entanglement between colonization and the environment. Participants also recognize the different role for non-Lekwungen peoples than Lekwungen peoples in engagements with the land, such as removal of invasive species versus the harvesting of camas. Additionally, participants do not seek to absolve themselves from colonization. Rather, they often trace their involvement to their implication in colonization.”
The following is a short summary of my Community Governance Project completed as partial fulfillment of an MA in Indigenous Governance at the University of Victoria under the supervision of Cheryl Bryce (Songhees) and Dr. Jeff Corntassel (Tsalagi)
I have never considered myself an environmentalist. And, to be clear, I still don’t.
Over the past two years though, I’ve found myself engaging in what are often referred to as environmental issues. Most specifically, I’ve been involved in the removal of invasive species from Garry oak ecosystems in Victoria, British Columbia. This work has mostly entailed the removal of scotch broom.
Introduced to these lands by the first independent settler on Vancouver Island, Broom is an invasive plant with deep, thick roots, and which produces up to 18,000 seeds that are in turn spread by human and non-human forces. Not only does removal require physical labour to uproot these plants, but it also requires…
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“If white people who practice Indigenous solidarity miss, or never consider these nuances when invoking “settler” status, I am concerned that we then leave its whiteness normalized and unchallenged within our theories and activism.”
White settlers who seek solidarity with Indigenous challenges to settler colonialism must confront how white supremacy shapes settler colonialism, our solidarity, and our lives. As a white person working in Canada and the United States to challenge racism and colonialism (in queer / trans politics, and solidarity activism) I am concerned that white people might embrace Indigenous solidarity in ways that evade our responsibilities to people of color and to their calls upon us to challenge all forms of white supremacy. This essay presents my responsibilities to theories and practices of decolonization that connect Indigenous and racialized peoples. I highlight historical studies by Indigenous and critical race scholars — notably, those bridging black and Indigenous studies — as they illuminate deep interlockings of white supremacy and settler colonialism. I call white settlers to become responsible to these, and related projects, so as to challenge the authority we might claim, or…
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Really thought-provoking and nuanced perspective on decolonizing bioregionalism: “For every thread in the fabric of colonialism, there is a story of resistance to be told. For every lie told by the civilizers, there is a truth to be told. For every place that has been decimated through industry and agriculture, there is still possible a good way to live there; and this way is kept alive in the stories of that particular place, the Indigenous Knowledge so viciously and systematically attacked by the colonizers. And each of us as an individual is a living story, connected to place(s) and ancestors, whose stories formed the world we live in today. Our identities are not static. Our stories evolve and our cultures evolve, as Cascadia herself rises in fire and falls into the sea. All of our stories need to be told, and in a way that empowers us in our responsibilities, not as a set of evasions or “settler moves to innocence5.” Telling our stories as our identities moves us beyond the dualism of guilt or innocence, denying neither, while illuminating our responsibilities as individuals and as Peoples in this life. (I reject the guilt-ridden associations of the word “responsibility” and embrace response-ability as the antidote to resignation and disempowerment)”
The lands and waters of the Northeast Pacific Rim are a colony. This was not always so. Colonization began in the late 18th century and has continued unabated to the present day, as the centralization of power continues to be concentrated into a disembodied abstraction called Capital. Prior to colonization, power was balanced throughout the many Nations here, each with their own decentralized network of autonomous clans, bands, villages, and families. At that time, the epistemological separation between the Land and the People was contradictory to the cultures here, and it was exactly this division that the colonizers came here to enact in order to replace laws of relationship and reciprocity with resource extraction to feed the growth of Capital. This process has turned living communities into dead commodities through the imposition of a culture of occupation1, and despite the many successful acts of defense and restoration…
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Dear Rex Murphy,
When you write that Canadians are offended at the term ‘settler’ and ‘genocide,’ you don’t speak for all of us. I’m a Canadian citizen, my ancestors came to Canada from Europe a few centuries ago, and I understand myself as a settler. It’s not disrespectful for indigenous peoples to remind us of Canada’s legacy of genocide. It’s not rude for indigenous peoples to label as ‘colonial’ the connections between the industries of resource extraction, the RCMP, and the corporate media you write for. What’s insulting is your attempt to paint Canada as benevolent, open, and respectful of indigenous peoples, and your contempt for any understanding of present-day colonialism and oppression in Canada.
I’m not an expert on colonialism, but clearly neither are you. In reading your vitriolic editorial, it struck me that you clearly hate the term ‘settler’ and ‘colonialism’; however, your writing also indicates that you probably don’t actually understand what these terms mean. So I’m writing to you, one white settler to another, to explain to you what settler colonialism means to me, and why I think it’s important for understanding (and living in) present-day Canada. With that said, I’m not convinced you’re really ignorant of these terms; I think you have a sense of their meaning and the implications, and it terrifies you, but that terror turns to anger before you can really feel it. I think you—and many other Canadians—know that something is deeply wrong, even if you can’t admit it to yourself. It’s something in the air, something we feel in our gut: we’re caught up in something horrible, and we can’t go on this way.
I think that’s why the truths spoken by indigenous people provoke so much resentment in people like you: because you know they’re speaking the truth. It’s plain for everyone to see: Elsipogtog and other instances of indigenous resistance aren’t political stunts by over-educated ‘radicals’ as you’d like to portray them; they are principled stands by everyday people—grandmothers, fathers, mothers, and their children—against rampant and unending extraction, exploitation, and destruction. These communities are not motivated by abstract ideologies or university jargon, but by deep responsibilities and commitments to protect land and people.
Leanne Betasamosake Simpson puts it clearly:
The story here, the real story, is virtually the same story in every Indigenous nation: Over the past several centuries we have been violently dispossessed of most of our land to make room for settlement and resource development. The very active system of settler colonialism maintains that dispossession and erases us from the consciousness of settler Canadians except in ways that is deemed acceptable and non-threatening to the state. We start out dissenting and registering our dissent through state sanctioned mechanisms like environmental impact assessments. Our dissent is ignored. Some of us explore Canadian legal strategies, even though the courts are stacked against us. Slowly but surely we get backed into a corner where the only thing left to do is to put our bodies on the land. The response is always the same – intimidation, force, violence, media smear campaigns, criminalization, silence, talk, negotiation, “new relationships”, promises, placated resistance and then more broken promises. Then the cycle repeats itself.
This is the structure of settler colonialism. One of the basic assumptions of your editorial—and virtually all other mainstream media coverage of Elsipogtog—is that colonialism happened sometime in the past, and since then Canada has done a lot to “right our historical wrongs.” When do you imagine colonialism stopped happening in Canada? When the last piece of land was mapped, surveyed, and appropriated for the Crown? When government officials first broke their treaties with indigenous nations so that settlement and resource exploitation could continue? When the last residential school was closed? When Stephen Harper issued an official apology five years ago? When he declared that Canada has no history of colonialism a year later? Of course, Canada has changed, and so have settler attitudes. But the structure of settler colonialism is still very much intact.
You will likely dismiss my words as part of the “academically-generated ‘narratives’ of colonialism.” Indeed, I first learned about colonialism in university, and I’m a student of some of the “colonial theory” you denounce. But I only learned about colonialism in university because my public school education taught me that indigenous peoples had been wiped out in Canada, victims of the inevitable and noble march of progress. Why do you suppose our public school system hides the history of residential schools, forced removal of indigenous people, ecological devastation, racist policies, theft of land, and broken treaties? Could it be that we’re trying to cover up the fact that Canadian colonialism never ended—that it’s an ongoing process?
More and more Canadians are beginning to see that an ever-expanding economy based on exploitation of land and people can’t go on forever, and the impacts are also hitting home in more communities. More Canadians are recognizing that voting for someone every four years isn’t real enfranchisement, and that this system is designed to foreclose popular participation, not encourage it. More of us are seeing the need to take a stand to protect our families, the places we love, non-human life, and future generations. More Canadians are beginning to see that this is what indigenous people have been saying (and doing) all along: defending their lands and communities against an ongoing colonial process. With these recognitions comes one of the least comfortable: that we are caught up in this process—deeply enmeshed and complicit in it—as settlers.
Just as we feel the wrongness of colonialism in our gut, we can feel the emptiness of settler ways of life. This isn’t just about “mentalities,” as you suggest, although the way we think is certainly part of it. It’s most concretely about how we relate to each other and the land that sustains us (whether we recognize it or not). Settler colonialism has produced a world where our food is industrialized and grown with chemicals, our political system is rigidly bureaucratic and exclusive, our culture promotes objectification and normalizes rape, our economic system is premised on exploitation and unending growth, our divisions of labour are racist and patriarchal, almost all forests and ecosystems have been pillaged and degraded, and our everyday lives are increasingly mediated through bureaucracies and commodities. This is not to say that indigenous people are somehow outside these ways of life; however, they have consistently resisted our attempts at assimilation and resource exploitation. They have maintained and revitalized their own ways of life, and have refused to be incorporated into the fold of settler colonialism. Elsipogtog is only the latest conflict in a centuries-long struggle.
Our ways of life are predicated upon the continued subjugation of indigenous peoples and the exploitation of their lands. For settlers, this is a terrifying thing to recognize: if our whole lives are based on this system, how could we be otherwise? For many Canadians—and I think you’re part of this group, Rex—this uncertainty is quickly converted into a glib certainty that the problem is them: they’ve failed to integrate, or failed to govern themselves, or failed to obey the (our) law. The settler problem gets converted into the age-old Indian problem. But I think we know, deep down, even when we’re in denial, that it’s us: that we need to take action and change ourselves through the process.
We are living in the midst of indigenous resurgence. All over the lands claimed by Canada, indigenous peoples are revitalizing their traditions and languages, reclaiming their lands and responsibilities, and refusing the colonial status quo. We’re also in the midst of a decline of faith in the ways of life we’ve created, even among those most privileged by this system: the middle-class dream is evaporating, we’re hurtling towards ecological collapse, and the alliances between corporations and politicians are increasingly obvious. Settlers—some of us—are learning to listen to that feeling of wrongness in our gut, unsettling ourselves, building solidarity, and finding new (and old) ways of relating. None of us have figured it out, but more of us are recognizing that things need to change, and the problem is as much ‘in here’ as ‘out there’. There is no neutral territory here, because doing nothing carries us along with the flow of colonialism.
We can’t wait for everyone. Indigenous peoples can never afford to wait for support from settler society, and struggles in the future will continue to involve contention and conflict. Settlers are learning how to take leadership from indigenous communities, and real alliances and solidarities are being forged. As we learn to listen to our gut and shake off our colonial baggage, indigenous people defending their lands seem increasingly reasonable and admirable, and the supporters of colonialism, like you, Rex, seem pitiful and dangerous.
The 4th annual Unist’ot’en Action Camp is coming up July 10-14th and will likely be the largest ever.
In their report on last year’s action camp, submedia.tv draws connections between the camp and its opposition to the PTP pipeline, the Tarsands, and industrial extraction more generally. They discuss the Wet’suwet’en’s recovery of the free prior informed consent and other traditions and responsibilities, and the importance of direct action.
Also, check out this article about the Unist’ot’en Camp in Earth First!
In it, Crow Qu’appelle writes:
The support from allies across the country during the November 27th day of action, Raising Resistance, proved that grassroots networks working together can equal or surpass the efforts of large NGO coalitions. Having money but often lacking base support, the NGO model has shown itself capable of mobilizing, and often wasting, large amounts of resources towards sensationalist one-off actions, and incapable, or uninterested, of developing meaningful relationships with communities. That is why the Unist’ot’en and Grassroots Wet’suwet’en in 2011 made the decision to turn from unhealthy, non-reciprocal NGO partnerships, and to go the grassroots direction instead looking to long-term sustained relationships for the future. In this context of looking to genuine, long-term community building, collectivist and mutual aid principles brought forward by Anarchist allies at camp have meshed well with communal indigenous practices.
Now is a crucial time to develop that spontaneous outpouring of grassroots support into a sustained solidarity network. Straight up, community awareness creates increased security for the camp. The more people that know about us and actively show support, the harder it is for government and industry to move against us.
Aragorn! – “Locating an Indigenous Anarchism” in Uncivilized: The Best of Green Anarchy (2012).
This is one of the first pieces of writing that attempted to bring anarchism and indigenism together (that I know of). It’s written in a non-academic style, without citations or jargon, and it’s pretty short. It engages brings together theory, practice, and political traditions in a nuanced way, and there’s a lot packed into a few pages.
The piece is framed as an imagined story, about what an indigenous anarchism would look like. It begins with the destruction of civilization, and the burning of cities. This is the precursor to an indigenous anarchism: “once we get beyond the flames we will have to craft a life together” (49).
“Indigenous” means “of the land we are actually on” and “anarchist” means “without authoritarian constraint” (49). The three main principles of anarchism, for Aragorn!, are direct action, mutual aid, and voluntary cooperation (50).
He is wary about setting down principles of indigenous anarchism: “If I believe in a value and then articulate that value as instrumental for an appropriate practice then what is the difference between my completely subjective (or self-serving) perspective and one that I could possibly share usefully? This question should continue to haunt us” (51).
But he cautiously states some first principles of indigenous anarchism:
- Everything is alive. There are no objects, and there are no dead things: “Alive may not be the best word for what is being talked about but we could say imbibed with spirit or filled with the Great Spirit and we would mean the same thing. We will assume that a secular audience understands life as complex, interesting, in motion, and valuable. This same secular person may not see the Great Spirit in things that they are capable of seeing life in” (51)
- The ascendance of memory. He means something very specific by “memory” here, and suggests that our society is characterized by forgetting, but doesn’t say much about what this memory is… (51-2)
- Place: similar to memory, he argues that contemporary civilization places us nowhere (suburbs, stripmalls and airports are the ultimate examples of non-places). An anarchism of place doesn’t necessarily mean living in one place; it might entail moving with the seasons, or “travelling every year as conditions, or desire, dictated” (52). These choices would be dictated by people, and not “the exigency of economic or political priorities” (52).
- Family: the extended family is an extension of the principle that everything is alive: “the connection between living things, which we would shorthand call family, is the way that we understand ourselves in the world. We are part of a family and we know ourselves through family” (52).
- Self-determination and radical decentralization: “Self determination should be read as the desire for people who are self-organized (whether by tradition, individual choice, or inclination) to decide how they want to live with each other” (53). Aragorn! argues that these principles are often adopted in anarchist discourse, but they aren’t lived up to in practice. Anarchists often refuse any conception of ‘race,’ and this entails a refusal to understand and deal with indigenous people and people of colour, for whom these categories are very real. He’s not saying that these categories are real (or that they aren’t); he’s saying that anarchists often fail “to apply the principles of self-determination to the fact that real living and breathing people do identify within racial and cultural categories and that this identification has consequences in terms of dealing with one another… the answer is that these anarchists do not expect to deal with anyone outside of their understanding of reality. They expect reality to conform to their subjective understanding of it” (53).
He is also critical of the anarchist tradition for what he calls “repetitive criticism”—this form of critique is useful for “getting every member of a political tendency on the same page,” but its effect is often to generate suspicions and detachment from anarchistic events, rather than affirmations of them: “the form that anarchist criticism has taken about events in the world is more useful in shaping an understanding of what anarchists believe than what the world is” (54). Anarchist criticism is often turned in on itself, comparing the world and peoples’ efforts to an Anarchist ideal, and the world is always found deficient.
Aragorn! articulates a paradox of indigenous anarchism (and other anarchisms): “Anarchists would like to have it both ways. They would like to see their tradition as being growing and vital, along with being uncompromising and deeply radical. Since an anarchist society would be such a deep break from what we experience in this world, it is impossible to perceive any scenario that leads from here to there. There is no path” (54).
In other words, the vision of indigenous anarchism is so radically different from the dominant order that there’s no way to invent a strategy that would bring those conditions into existence. You can’t get there from here: “I will not finish this story with a happy ending that will not come true. This is a sharing” (55). He seems to call for patience, in the end, recalling his teachings: “The reason that I sit here and drink is because I am waiting for the white man to finish his business. And when he is done we will return” (55).
In the final paragraphs, he notes that the only indigenous anarchists he’s met have been native people, not because it’s impossible for nonnative ppl to live this way, but “because there are few teachers and even fewer students” (among the settler population) (55). This is another reason why settlers need to engage with indigenous peoples: “If learning how to live with these values is worth anything it is worth making the compromises necessary to learn how people have been living with them for thousands of years” (55).
The recent controversy over former BC NDP candidate Dayleen Van Ryswyk’s racism is part of a longstanding pattern in Canada. The mainstream media tends to frame these controversies as a debate between politically correct multiculturalists (like Adrian Dix) and reactionary racists (like Van Ryswyk). Both sides present different solutions to the “Indian Problem,” by asking how the Canadian government should deal with indigenous peoples. Forced out of this mainstream debate is the “Settler Problem:” the ongoing colonial present, and the possibilities of grassroots resistance, solidarity and decolonization.
Dayleen Van Ryswyk was recently forced to resign over comments she made about First Nations (and Quebecois) in an online discussion forum. Some highlights from her online tirades:
“It’s not the status cards, it’s the fact that we have been paying out of the nose for generations for something that isn’t our doing. If their ancestors sold out too cheap it’s not my fault and i shouldn’t have to be paying for any mistake or whatever you want to call it from MY hard earned money.”
“I don’t think anyone is saying that wrongs didn’t happen (incredible wrongs) you could have almost any race, group or ethnic people tell you horrible haunting stories of what happened to them. […] In my opinion, holding an entire group of people liable for something that happened hundreds of years ago, people who weren’t even alive yet for the wrongs of their ancestors is ridiculous.”
“I’m getting so sick of having french stuffed down my throat..this isn’t Quebec,,it’s western Canada…we speak english here…so does the majority of Canada. I’m offended that the french is spoken first. […] Why can’t we celebrate Canada’s diverse cultures..everyone..not just natives!”
Van Ryswyk was quickly forced to resign by BC NDP leader Adrian Dix, and she quickly received a flood of support from her constituents in Kelowna and others across Canada. Now she’s running as an independent. Recent polls by Castanet showed 73% of those polled didn’t think Van Ryswyk’s comments were inappropriate, and 49% will vote for her (against the runner-up Liberal candidate with 40%).
In short, Ryswyk’s comments may have made her more popular, and her comments clearly resonate with many Canadians. Others (including the BC Liberals and NDPers) have insisted her comments were racist, offensive, and inappropriate. Van Ryswyk and her supporters have insisted that Van Ryswyk was just saying what most politicians won’t, because of political correctness. So is Van Ryswyk racist, or is she just cutting through the bullshit of Canadian political correctness?
Both. The debate between Ryswyk and other, more ‘tolerant’ politicians repeats a pattern of debate in the mainstream media between reactionaries and multiculturalists. Elsewhere, I’ve called them Upsettler zombies and Monarchist demons. Both camps ultimately reinforce Canada’s colonial present by presenting different solutions to the same problem.
Reactionaries and the exploitation of indigenous lands
On Ryswyck’s side are the Canadian reactionaries: settlers who resent what they see as Canada’s “special treatment” of indigenous peoples. They tend mobilize arguments about equality and fairness, claiming that indigenous peoples receive undue ‘handouts’ from federal and provincial governments. Recently disgraced Canadian academic Tom Flanagan publicly held this view for decades (and still does). His book First Nations, Second Thoughts basically calls for the end to Aboriginal status: indigenous peoples should be stripped of any special rights or entitlements, so that they are the same as other Canadians. In the BC context, Mel Smith’s best-seller, Our Home Or Native Land famously attacks indigenous land claims:
Tiny communities are given enormous tracts of land while the majority of Canadians is not only ignored but kept in the dark. Incredible sums of money are spent–worse, even larger amounts are committed to be paid by future generations.
The views of Flanagan and Smith dovetail with Van Ryswyk’s and a flood of others who reacted to Idle No More with outrage and hatred, such Globe and Mail columnist Jeffrey Simpson, who likened indigenous communities to tiny, delusional, dysfunctional municipalities, entirely dependent on government subsidies. A recent editorial in the Nanaimo Daily News by Don Olsen argued that indigenous societies are primitive peoples, devoid of technology and civilization, who now lack the ability to take care of themselves. Michelle Tittler runs a facebook page entitled “End Race-Based Law,” calling for an end to any laws that distinguish First Nations people from settler Canadians. Like other reactionaries, these tirades are often couched in the language of equality. Olsen proclaims that the only solution is to “bring them into society as equals. They should be getting jobs and paying taxes like the rest of us.”
The idea that indigenous peoples are dependent on subsidies and so need to be “brought in” to Canadian society is one of the most prevalent myths in Canada. For example, when Idle No More began, the Conservative government leaked documents about Attawapiskat, suggesting fiscal mismanagement and corruption by Chief Theresa Spence. But as Drew Oja Jay explains,
Right now, DeBeers is constructing a $1 billion mine on the traditional territory of the Āhtawāpiskatowi ininiwak. Anticipated revenues will top $6.7 billion. Currently, the Conservative government is subjecting the budget of the Cree to extensive scrutiny. But the total amount transferred to the First Nation since 2006 — $90 million — is a little more than one per cent of the anticipated mine revenues. As a percentage, that’s a little over half of Harper’s cut to GST.Royalties from the mine do not go to the First Nation, but straight to the provincial government. The community has received some temporary jobs in the mine, and future generations will have to deal with the consequences of a giant open pit mine in their back yard.Attawapiskat is subsidizing DeBeers, Canada and Ontario.
Indigenous peoples are not economically dependent on Canada; Canada is economically dependent on the exploitation of indigenous lands (and on the subjugation of indigenous peoples who would protect those lands). When indigenous peoples refuse to accept resource extraction on their lands, the reactionaries call for the ‘rule of law.’ Since the law allows for resource extraction and environmental destruction and criminalizes resistance, they are calling for the continuation of settler colonialism. ‘Canada’ is made possible through this ongoing colonization, and it has consistently tried to assimilate and eliminate indigenous people so that land exploitation can continue.
These views aren’t just racist, radical outliers on the fringe of Canadian ideology. They’re entirely in line with much of Canadian policy and practice. For example, Pierre Trudeau’s 1969 White Paper aimed to wipe away any special relationship between Canada and indigenous peoples. The White Paper sought to eliminate “Indian status” and treat indigenous peoples as citizens with the same rights as settler Canadians. This was a final solution to the problem indigenous peoples posed to land exploitation and settlement, and the White Paper was only defeated because of a wave of mobilizations and resistance across indigenous communities and the lands claimed by Canada. When reactionaries mobilize arguments about equality and fairness, they’re in line with past policies like the White Paper, which would assimilate indigenous peoples completely and immediately into settler society, at least under Canadian law.
Multiculturalists, benevolence, and land negotiations
On the opposing side of the mainstream debate are the Canadian multiculturalists. They advocate a more measured approach, supporting some combination of reform and recognition of the special status of First Nations. BC leader Adrian Dix quickly denounced Ryswyk’s comments as “unacceptable” and forced her to resign. He is likely to be the next Premier of BC, and the NDP is being billed as a party that is more sensitive to the concerns of environmentalists and indigenous peoples. Multiculturalists are much more willing to negotiate with First Nations, as long as they don’t get in the way of the Canadian economy and its industries. Multiculturalists support some version of limited self-government, the resolution of land claims, and special rights for First Nations.
Multiculturalists are experts at appearing benevolent and respectful. A Dix government in BC will try to kill the Enbridge pipeline plan and invest in ‘green’ initiatives, but it will support other pipelines, logging of old growth forests, and other industries on unceded indigenous territories. Indigenous communities will continue to be faced with blackmails framed as opportunities: collaborate with ecologically disastrous resource extraction and get a tiny portion of the revenue, or resist, receive nothing, and the project will likely go ahead anyway. But multiculturalists would never put it in such stark terms. They are always in favour of negotiations, reasonableness, and compromise. For federal and provincial governments, this means negotiating with First Nations band councils on special rights, entitlements, forms of self-governance, and revenue-sharing agreements, without radically reshaping Canada or its relationship to indigenous peoples.
A prime example of this is the British Columbia Treaty Commission. The BCTC is often celebrated as an example of decolonization and multiculturalism. It is supposed to result in the return of unceded territories to indigenous peoples in BC and usher in a new relationship between settler governments and indigenous peoples. But the process was designed by Canadian settlers, and indigenous peoples were then invited to negotiate for a tiny portion of their lands (around 5%) through their band councils. If negotiations ever finish, the land is not returned to indigenous peoples allowing them to manage it and govern it autonomously; all land remains under federal and provincial authority, reclassified under the Land Title Act. Taiaiake Alfred outlines the extreme limitations of the BCTC process:
- No recovery of indigenous lands held by private individuals.
- Municipalities retain present legal authorities in indigenous territories.
- Non-indigenous people have access to indigenous lands.
- Non-indigenous people not subject to indigenous laws.
- No new budgetary allocations for agreements.
- Federal government pays most of the costs of negotiations and agreements.
- Non-indigenous companies on indigenous lands will be paid a settlement.
- Province keeps control resource management and environmental protection.
Federal and provincial governments aren’t negotiating with indigenous peoples with the aim of returning any of their lands. The intention is to change the way a small portion of these lands are classified under Canadian law, while ensuring complete control over the rest. The government also loans First Nations the money required for the legal fees in this process, sending them into crippling debt, which forces them to follow through on the process so that they can use their settlements to pay it off. The BCTC requires indigenous peoples to give up the capacity to advance any future assertions of rights or land claims as part of the agreement. The federal department of Aboriginal Affairs and Northern Development explains the economic imperative behind the BCTC:
Uncertainty about the existence and location of Aboriginal rights create uncertainty with respect to ownership, use and management of land and resources. That uncertainty has led to disruptions and delays to economic activity in BC. It has also discouraged investment.
The consequences of not concluding treaties are lost economic activity as well as escalating court costs and continued uncertainty. Key benefits of negotiated settlements are economic and legal certainty as well as harmonized arrangements between the different levels of government.
The overarching aim of the BCTC is to ensure that settler governments can have economic and political certainty over land and resources, so that resource extraction and industrialization can continue. As Nuu-chah-nulth scholar Johnny Mack writes:
The conclusion seems unavoidable – the provisions [of the BCTC] ensure that we are still subject to a constitutional legal order that we did not create, and within that order, only 5 percent of the lands taken from us will be returned to us. Rather than providing for a reincorporation of the colonial takings into our own story, this process acquires our consent to lock that plunder into the state structure, where it will be subject to state authority and exposed to the hungry forces of the global market.
This situation has led many indigenous people (and whole communities) to abandon the BCTC and other offers of reconciliation by colonial authorities. These policies are the legacy of multiculturalism in Canada, which promise reconciliation and respectful relationships. As an indigenous mentor once explained to me, this is like breaking into someone’s house, killing most of their family, and trying to force them into the closet for years while we ransack the place and make ourselves at home. Indigenous peoples resisted the whole way along, and most forms of resistance are criminalized. The reactionaries are angry that they still have to put up with people making noise in the closet, and they are especially outraged when the homeowners disrupt the goings-on in the rest of the house. The multiculturalists announce that they want to negotiate and maybe indigenous peoples can have one more room in the house, under certain conditions. Neither party ever considers the fact that they’re uninvited guests, living in a stolen house, and destroying it.
Reactionary and Multicultural solutions to the “Indian Problem”
Multiculturalists and reactionaries are often portrayed as polar opposites by the mainstream media. The reactionaries like Van Rysywyk go on racist tirades, and the multiculturalists denounce this racism and call for respectful relationships with First Nations. Each camp resonates with different segments of the Canadian population. The reactionaries play on liberal notions of individual equality, mixed with the racist underpinnings of Canada and its attempts to eliminate indigenous peoples. The multiculturalists play on a different version of liberal equality, combined with the fantasy of a Canada where indigenous peoples are a little bit different, and a few policy tweaks makes everyone get along. To be clear, I’m not saying indigenous peoples shouldn’t negotiate with governments, or that they’re naive for doing so. I’m talking about the way in which Canadian multiculturalism is framed as respectful negotiation, while continuing to impose colonial structures on indigenous peoples.
The reactionary and the multiculturalist are two different solutions to the “Indian Problem” in Canada. The Indian Problem is a phrase made famous by Duncan Campbell Scott at the beginning of the 20th century, who sought to eliminate all indigenous peoples, either by outright extermination or forced assimilation:
“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.”
This was the explicit purpose of Canada’s Indian Act. Some of its most heinous elements, such as residential schools, have since been abolished over the last half-century, but the Indian Problem continues to inform the way governments (and most Canadians) understand their relationship to indigenous peoples. When the Indian Act failed to destroy indigenous communities and eliminate all indigenous ways of life, Trudeau and others attempted to use the language of equality to finally assimilate them. In a different way, as Taiaiake Alfred explains, the BCLT is structured as a final solution to the Indian Problem:
In essence, the BCTC process is designed to solve the perceived problem of indigenous nationhood by extinguishing it and bringing indigenous peoples into Canada’s own domestic political and legal structures with certainty and finality […] the federal and provincial governments are evidently seeking to consolidate the assimilation and control they have gained over indigenous peoples and their lands since the collapse of indigenous social and political strength as a result of the mass dying by epidemic diseases – a tragedy that began to recede only in the early part of the 20th century.
Indigenous peoples are still prevented from accessing the vast amount of their traditional territories, and settler colonialism continues to occupy indigenous lands, extract resources from them, and subjugate indigenous peoples. When colonialism is discussed at all, it is framed in terms of the Indian Problem: what do we do about them? What do they want from us? How can we finally ‘move on’? The Canadian government still seeks to manage, assimilate, or eliminate indigenous peoples and their ways of life. That is the endgame of colonialism.
Reactionaries want to solve the Indian Problem by getting rid of any special status and assimilating indigenous peoples as equal citizens under Canadian law. The multiculturalist wants to allow some room for special rights and entitlements, and limited self-government, while ensuring that resource extraction and industrial development can continue. Both views lead settlers to understand colonialism as an “Aboriginal issue” that happened in the past, to be resolved by governments, with no implications for the daily lives of settlers. Settlers keep living in the house, arguing about whether indigenous peoples should be allowed a whole room, just a closet, or nothing at all.
The Settler Problem: complicity and decolonization
The problem is the Indian Problem itself. It tries to deal with indigenous peoples from within a colonial framework, and leaves that framework intact while framing colonialism as something in the past. As Adam Barker and others have argued in recent years, Canada actually has a ‘Settler Problem:’
“Settler people who are so immersed in colonial psychology that their political structures make co-existence with Indigenous peoples impossible.”
The Settler Problem invites settlers to focus the problem on ourselves, our institutions, and our inheritance of a colonial system that shapes the way we relate to indigenous peoples, each other, and the land we live on. The Settler Problem is ongoing; it’s not a past wrong to remedy through reparations. Settlers came, committed genocide, set up colonial institutions, occupied and pillaged the land, and we’ve inherited this situation. The recognition of settler involvement in ongoing colonialism often provokes paralyzing guilt or denial. A common reaction is that ‘we’ didn’t do anything; it was our ancestors (or other peoples’ ancestors).
Settlers are often eager to point out that they or their ancestors didn’t benefit from colonialism. My great great grandfather was an Irish indentured servant who was forced to come here and work for nothing. This implies colonialism is about individual blame or guilt, and we’re either guilty or we’re not. But this individualistic response frames colonialism as part of the past, rather than an ongoing project. As Lorenzo Veracini and Edward Cavanaugh write, in the definition of settler colonialism:
settler colonialism is a resilient formation that rarely ends. Not all migrants are settlers; […] settlers come to stay. They are founders of political orders who carry with them a distinct sovereign capacity. And settler colonialism is not colonialism: settlers want Indigenous people to vanish (but can make use of their labour before they are made to disappear).
The Settler Problem frames colonization as an ongoing phenomenon; it’s happening right now and we’re implicated in it, whether we like it or not. White, middle-class settlers like me are the ones with enough privilege to ignore it if we choose to: settler colonialism can fade into the background for some of us, as a way of life that seems normal and natural. Not all settlers have this option, and the settler/indigenous dichotomy can flatten out differences between settlers. ‘Settlers’ are often implicitly white, European-descended people whose ancestors took part in conquest and slavery. Depending on how it’s used, the term ‘settler’ can miss the ways that privileged white men like me are positioned differently from people who don’t benefit from the linked systems of capital accumulation, heteropatriarchy, and racism. But acknowledging these differences, privileges, and positions in the structure of settler colonialism doesn’t amount to much if it doesn’t affect the ways we live our everyday lives. The concept of ‘complicity’ has been advanced as a way to move beyond individualistic discussions of privilege, towards the ways that people are positioned differently in the colonial structure, with implications for collective action. As Beenash Jafri explains:
Complicity hasn’t been circulated in the same way as privilege. Nor are there many handy pedagogical tools or checklists for thinking about complicity. Complicity is a messy, complicated and entangled concept to think about; it is not as easy to grasp and, because of this, it requires a much deeper investment on our part. This would demand, for example, that we think about settlerhood not as an object that we possess, but as a field of operations into which we become socially positioned and implicated.
Complicity might offer a way out of individualistic, guilt-ridden discussions that often plague settlers’ coming-to-awareness of our roles in this process. Complicity focuses our attention on relationships and institutions, rather than individual identities. I don’t think this means that differences are flattened out, or oppression doesn’t matter; I will always have to keep unlearning my own heteropatriarchal, racist, colonial ways of thinking and being as a white guy; that unlearning is crucial for respectful relationships across difference. As El Machetero explains, complicity helps frame oppression and resistance as a collective project:
It also focuses much less on individuals, and much more on this system and its accompanying parasitical lifestyles, understanding that this is an arrangement which is violent, genocidal and ecocidal (since it increasingly involves the actual destruction of the land itself) and which makes accomplices of us all. What matters more than where such a system would choose to locate us for its own ends is what we choose to do together with one another, the strength and quality of the relationships and communities we build, and our knowledge of the context in which we live and our foresight towards the consequences which emerge from the choices we make within it.
Towards collective decolonization
The solution to the Settler Problem is collective decolonization: moving towards non-dominating relationships between settlers, indigenous peoples, and ecosystems. I have no idea what these decolonized relationships will look like, but I know it will take more than a multiculturalist yearning for a kinder Canada, or outraged denunciations of Van Ryswyk and other reactionaries, or a guilt-ridden ‘awareness’ of settler colonialism. What would it mean for settlers to act like uninvited guests? What are our responsibilities as settlers? What happens when settlers give up on their certainty and sense of entitlement to indigenous lands? How can settlers divest themselves from a faith in government and begin to build direct relationships with indigenous communities? How can settlers build alliances with indigenous peoples and help stop the destruction and exploitation of their lands? If settler colonialism is a ‘field of operations,’ how do we navigate this field? How can we disrupt its operations and construct alternatives? People are already asking and responding to these questions. There are indigenous peoples and settlers across the territories claimed by Canada who are resisting settler colonialism and working towards decolonization.
Many of these efforts were galvanized by Idle No More, though INM is only the most recent and visible movement of resistance and decolonization amongst indigenous peoples. From the perspective of the mainstream media, Idle No More seems to have vanished, but this is only because the mainstream media can only see things from the vantage point of the Indian Problem. If indigenous peoples aren’t publicly protesting and presenting demands to governments, there’s nothing happening. When Naomi Klein interviewed Nishnaabeg writer and activist Leanne Simpson, she asked Simpson what the next step was for Idle No More. Simpson replied:
“I think within the movement, we’re in the next phase. There’s a lot of teaching that’s happening right now in our community and with public teach-ins, there’s a lot of that internal work, a lot of educating and planning happening right now. There is a lot of internal nation-building work. It’s difficult to say where the movement will go because it is so beautifully diverse. I see perhaps a second phase that is going to be on the land. It’s going to be local and it’s going to be people standing up and opposing these large-scale industrial development projects that threaten our existence as indigenous peoples—in the Ring of Fire [region in Northern Ontario], tar sands, fracking, mining, deforestation… But where they might have done that through policy or through the Environmental Assessment Act or through legal means in the past, now it may be through direct action. Time will tell.”
Beyond the gaze of the mainstream media, things are happening all the time. In British Columbia for example, grassroots Wet’suwet’en peoples have erected a permanent camp and blockade on their lands to protect their territory from oil, gas, and bitumen pipelines from the Tar Sands and fracking projects.
They’ve been defending this camp for three years. In the process, they’ve forged alliances with settlers and other indigenous nations across the province, including an upcoming teach-in organized on Lekwungen and WSANEC territories (Victoria) on April 28th, on settler solidarity and decolonization:
This Teach-In will provide settlers with an understanding of how the destruction of land as well as violence experienced by Indigenous peoples, who stand in assertion of their inherent sovereignty, can be located in both a historical and contemporary reality of colonialism. In preparing for resistance to the Pacific Trail Pipelines, this Teach-In will begin to prepare settler people to stand alongside Indigenous peoples in resisting the ongoing processes of colonialism – whether that be at the Unis’tot’en camp in the spring and summer, or elsewhere.
As the description implies, this isn’t just a one-off event; it’s designed to create the conditions for meaningful and lasting solidarity with indigenous struggles, and it holds open the possibility of decolonized relationships between settlers and indigenous peoples. This is just one of hundreds of public events that focus on decolonizing the relationships between settlers and indigenous peoples on the lands claimed by Canada. And these public events are only the most visible forms of decolonization in response to the Settler Problem. The mainstream media won’t cover these efforts, and when they do, they’ll frame them as terrorism, because there is no place for them in the narrative of the Indian Problem. Shifting to the Settler Problem asks us all to reflect on the ways we’re caught up in settler colonialism, whether we like it or not.
Matt Soltys ran a radio show for a number of years called Healing the Earth Radio, which made connections between capitalism, settler colonialism, the prison industrial complex, patriarchy, and other political struggles that are often left out of ecological politics or environmentalism. The interviews are archived on his website, and they are really great. He recently published a book called Tangled Roots, which includes some of the most significant interviews he did over the course of his radio show. I highly recommend this book; these interviews are really amazing and it’s rare to see such a wide diversity of voices and topics discussed, with lots of connections and resonances between them. I think this is one of the most important resources for anyone thinking about ecology and environmentalism in North America.
In an interview with Kelly Reinhardt, Matt Soltys discusses how he became involved in struggles around ecology, indigenous solidarity, and decolonization, among other things. He talks about how he draws strength and inspiration from nature and spends time listening to the land and conversing with other species, and he explains his efforts to unlearn Western, scientific ways of thinking and perceiving the world. The interview is from 2008, but it’s still relevant today. Check it out, and buy his book.
Below is the transcription:
(0:00 – 0:56) intro
(0:57 – 1:08) … You do good work with community radio… tell me a bit about that.
(1:09 – 1:49) … trying to make connections between ecological and political issues like power and colonialism… touching on issues of healing
(1:50 – 1:52) How did you come to that way of thinking?
(1:53 – 2:36) … not letting school beat it out of me… too many environmentalists not wanting to make connections between militaristic uses of the earth, weather warfare and genocide, stolen land… we’re not gonna be doing anything effective if we’re just talking about environmental issues or just talking about political issues
(2:37 – 2:46) … when you first started becoming concerned about things around you, what kind of effect did that have on you and your relationships…?
(2:47 – 3:30) it’s a really good feeling to be connected to struggles that go back thousands of years and know that there is a long history of people being proud of resisting and standing up for something that really means something.
(3:31 – 3:37) … How are you able to maintain such a positive outlook…?
(3:38 – 5:57) … it’s overwhelming sometimes… the grief builds up… what’s kept me strongest and sane has been a strong connection with nature.
(5:58 – 6:41) you’ve identified a couple of key things… meaningful work and a connection to nature are very positive forces in ones life. What kind of advice would you give for people who just can’t access the positive work or a positive environment?
(6:42 – 7:45) … something as simple as feeling the pulse of our heart and breathing deep, knowing that each single breath connects us to each tree transpiring oxygen for us to breath
(7:46 – 8:12) … you came to these insights, whether it’s practical, intuitive, training… seems you are quite comfortable with your positions… feeling with the heart rather than thinking with (the brain)
(8:13 – 9:04) … most of my insights have come from spending a lot of time by myself outside…
(9:05 – 9:12) Where’s your secong favorite natural spot?
(9:13 – 9:23) … anywhere along a riverbank…
(9:24 – 9:32) when you’re communing with nature do you feel it’s reciprocal?
(9:33 – 10:53) certainly! … a river is happy to have someone sit by them or a tree would love to be touched just like a human loves to be touched.
(10:54 – 10:58) …tell us where people can plug in to some of your media work?
(10:59 – 11:22) resistanceisfertile.ca … and it is fertile, it certainly isn’t futile.
This video was originally posted near the time when the Idle No More movement began. In it, Adam Barker lays out settler colonialism and its implications for settlers in a really accessible way, urging settlers to take responsibility for colonialism here in Canada: “The theft of land has enabled our incredible achievements, and also our dreadful mistakes. It is up to us to reclaim our responsibilities as Settlers – as world makers, as dreamers and builders, and people who can work together despite our differences to achieve great things – and to use our powers, privileges, and skills differently. We built this world, we built the nations of Canada and America, but we did it by trying to destroy many other nations as part of the process. It’s time to reverse this process. It is time to let go of our nations and privileges, and throw our support behind the regeneration of Indigenous nationhood.”
Adam shared his transcript with me, and I’m reposting it here, along with the video, below:
An Open Letter to My Settler People
Hello, my name is Adam Barker, and I am a Settler Canadian. If you’re listening to this, then you have probably already heard about Idle No More and the protests that have been happening over the last few weeks demanding rights, recognition, and most of all, respect for Indigenous peoples and their lands.
I am not speaking to you today to air another listing of grievances against the Harper government. I am not going to advocate for changes to policy and law. This is a message to my fellow Settler people about who we are and what we want to be in the future.
Maybe that term – Settler – makes you uneasy. I’ve often heard people say ‘I didn’t take Indian land; I’m no settler!’ Let’s start with a really important point: this movement is not about historical redress. Indigenous peoples have not suddenly risen up to demand that we educate ourselves on treaties and racist policies and laws from yesteryear. Nor have they ‘suddenly risen up’ at all. The Indigenous people you see protesting today are part of the same resistance against settler colonialism that has been going on for almost five hundred years.
All of us – every person who lives on and benefits from the theft of Indigenous lands – is a Settler. We all live on someone else’s lands, and almost all of us do so illegally. Everyday that you live in Canada or America, every day that you make a living, have freedom of movement, and enjoy a standard of living much higher than most of the world, you are part of settler colonization. It does not matter if your family has been here since the Mayflower landed, or if you just recently moved to Toronto from abroad: you are part of this. That is how settler colonization functions. It’s not just about soldiers and conquest, and it’s not just about residential schools or underfunded housing. It’s about thousands, millions of individual people, families, and communities pursuing freedom and wealth, at the expense of Indigenous people, their lands, and their cultures.
No, you alone are not solely responsible. No one is solely responsible. Your government is not solely responsible. Corporations is not solely responsible. Churches are not solely responsible.
Which means: we are all, collectively, responsible for this.
And what is ‘this’? Settler colonization. It’s land theft. It’s the imposed change of lifestyle in places we claim as ours. It’s modernity, and progress, and industry, and finance, and so many other things that we take for granted as part of our world.
But we have to recognize that our world is synthetic. Our society is built from bits and pieces of shattered Indigenous societies. Our wealth is ripped out of land that, for Indigenous societies, was holistically maintained and ministered to by place-based ways of being, very different from our own.
And let’s be clear, too, that this is not about more or less advanced technology. Indigenous peoples achieved levels of good health, types of governance, and ingenious environmental technology that still surpass what we can often make with our high-tech, modern means.
This is also not about people who, through ignorance, did not see what they were doing. The first colonists from England in the 1500s understood that they were on Indigenous lands. They recognized the complex societies that they encountered as powerful, political entities. They signed treaties that allowed them to live in these new colonies, but in respectful relationships withwith their Indigenous hosts.
Land surrender did not happen. Terra nullius is a lie, invented years after settlements were founded, as disease and warfare took their toll on Indigenous populations, while the teeming poor of Great Britain and Europe increasingly flooded Indigenous lands.
Settler colonization is the excuse that we make for being here. Settler colonization is our perceived ‘right’ to live on someone else’s land, without their permission. Settler colonization is the belief that those people are too primitive, too weak, or simply too ‘extinct’ to have a voice.
Look out your window. Look at your television. Look at your twitter feed, facebook page, or youtube. Indigenous people have voices. Their cultures are strong and vibrant even after five hundred years of theft, murder, rape, genocide, and political and legal extermination. And by their continued insistence on BEING on their OWN land, Indigenous peoples expose settler colonization for what it is: an elaborate lie, an imagined world, a story we tell ourselves about ourselves as Settlers.
Are you uncomfortable hearing that? It is okay if you are. I am. I have been for a long time. When I first began to discover the depth of settler colonization, I did not want to believe it. I wanted to find ways to make things right, through party politics and voting, or through ethical consumption, or human rights. I wanted Indigenous people to have what I had: a comfortable life in Canada.
But that’s simplistic because, if you listen to your Indigenous friends and neighbours, that isn’t what they want. They don’t want to share in the spoils of exploiting the land. They don’t want a proportional voice in Parliament. They don’t want to live like you do, look like you do, talk like you do. That, my fellow Settlers, is another colonial fantasy: it’s called assimilation. It has been the official policy of our governments in the past, and it remains the unofficial ‘idea’ behind reconciliation in the present: making things ‘equal’, but by our own measures of equality.
But would you accept that? If someone forced you out of your house, took your possessions, beat your children, and burned your history books, would you gratefully accept room and board in that house? Would you aspire to be just like them, to be friends with them, to do to others what they did to you? Or would you be angry and motivated? Would you be damn determined to get your house back, to rewrite your histories, and to get justice for those you love?
I know what I would think. I know what I would feel. I also know what I do feel now: scared, uncertain, and more than a little ashamed. Sometimes I feel like there is no way out of this predicament. I feel like the only way to make things better is to leave. But guess what: that doesn’t fix things either.
I have been living in the United Kingdom – where my family came from, all immigrating to Canada in the early 20th century – for the past three years. There is no ‘decolonization’ in this. My leaving has done nothing to restore Indigenous governance, to return stolen lands. I still have decades of privilege that allowed me to move, to pick up my life and relocate it, in ways that Indigenous people can’t.
We cannot make things right by running away.
Let’s accept something right now, Settler people: this is our mess to clean up. This is our house to manage. This is our legacy that we are building, and most of us build that legacy by refusing to take an active part in it. What is that legacy going to be? Will we be usurpers, continuing to take and take until there is nothing left? That, my friends and family, is genocide. Extermination. It’s the most heinous crime imaginable and we pursue it everyday.
Oh, we lie to ourselves by pumping money into ‘social programs’ to help keep Indigenous bodies alive and breathing. But that’s not living. We long ago learned that we can kill a people by destroying their cultures just as effectively as by killing their bodies. We can destroy with education, with appropriation of images and symbols, and by insisting that our way of living is the one, true way. We destroy while convincing ourselves we are doing anything but.
If we do not want this to be our legacy, we have to change. And I don’t mean change which party is in government: the Liberals introduced the White Paper in 1969, designed specifically to eliminate legal recognition of Indigenous peoples, making them just one more minority in their own lands. Abraham Lincoln preceded the Emancipation Proclamation by ordering the mass hanging of almost forty Dakota people in what is now Minnesota. Let’s be clear here: our sovereignty over these lands, the very basis of our political systems, our citizenship, and our legal rights, is based on the appropriation of land from Indigenous peoples and the imposition of our power over them.
We can’t vote our way out of this. We can’t count on the NDP, or the Green Party, or anyone else seeking political power, to dismantle those same systems of power. The Supreme Court of Canada or America cannot declare Canada or America illegal. Why? Because the government and courts are only empowered to make decisions and impose policies by settler colonization. Expecting governments and courts to end settler colonization is like asking them to cut down a tree while sitting on one of the branches.
So what do we do? If you’re like me, you might be feeling exasperated. Votes don’t matter; lawsuits don’t fix what is broken; even just making a living, humbly and quietly, is colonizing. But there is a way out. And it starts with you, and me, together.
You see, all of this only happens because, despite the many, many differences between us Settler people, we all agree to relate to each other in settler colonial ways. We think of politics as our governments and parties, not our treaty obligations to traditional Indigenous governments. We think of economics as jobs and corporations, not the sustainable relationships to place practiced by Indigenous societies. We think of our individual rights as of paramount importance, neglecting our collective responsibilities to our host nations.
We do this, in part, because we can. Collectively, we are powerful beyond almost any measure. Think about it! We have created entire worlds! We have imagined new societies, then built them, and regardless of the follies of war and failures of social justice, it is impossible not to be impressed by the incredible things that Settler societies have done. Settler people, in all our diversity, over centuries, have very literally changed the world, forever.
Do you see where I’m going with this?
It is time to stop pretending that we are not powerful, that we are just individuals beholden to law, politics, jobs, and social norms. We have made law. We have invented our politics. We defined and redefined our work and our social norms, again and again, in many places and many times. But we have done all of this in part because of something we lack: land of our own.
The theft of land has enabled our incredible achievements, and also our dreadful mistakes. It is up to us to reclaim our responsibilities as Settlers – as world makers, as dreamers and builders, and people who can work together despite our differences to achieve great things – and to use our powers, privileges, and skills differently. We built this world, we built the nations of Canada and America, but we did it by trying to destroy many other nations as part of the process. It’s time to reverse this process. It is time to let go of our nations and privileges, and throw our support behind the regeneration of Indigenous nationhood.
Ultimately, you have to ask yourself: what kind of person do I want to be? Do I want to be responsible? Do I want to control my own destiny and build a different world? Or do I want to live in the illusion of freedom that is built on dispossession, destruction and the death of whole peoples and nations? Do I want to be a usurper?
If you would rather be the former, then there are a few more questions you need to ask yourself. First among them is: how much am I willing to give up? And I don’t mean money or property, although that’s certainly part of it. I mean: how much of these artificial worlds that we have built are you willing to let go of?
I identify as a Settler Canadian because I have to recognize my privileges: I carry a Canadian passport, I have the freedom of movement that goes along with that. I can participate in and benefit from the Canadian systems of politics and economics as much or as little as I want. And that is precisely what I am willing to give up. I am willing to think of a day when Canada is no more, America is no more. I’m not so arrogant as to believe that these nations will last forever. But more than that, I’m certain that they should not. I’m willing to think of a time when my very identity has to shift, when I have to think about how you and I are related differently, not defined by our passports or flags or jobs or status or wealth.
I don’t know what that might look like. But I am willing to try and find out. That’s why, in addition to being Canadian, I first and foremost identify as a Settler; I accept that along with a legacy of colonization, being a Settler comes with incredible possibility for the future.
Can you conceive of letting go of your nationalism and patriotism, seeing them for what they are: expressions of our shared settler colonial privileges? Can you picture a world where your government, whatever form it takes, doesn’t rely on ‘sovereignty’ to assert your right on the land, but instead talks about treaties and responsibilities that earn permission to live on someone else’s land? It’s hard to let go of the things we think we know, the stories we tell ourselves, the world we take for granted. But as a great man once said: imagine. It’s easy if you try.
And once you have imagined these things, you have a responsibility to act. And by all means, go to protests with signs, march and sing and dance and make yourself seen and heard in public. Show Indigenous people that you support their struggle.
But rejecting settler colonization is more than that. We have to work together, in our own communities, and not just when protests flare up, but every single day. We have to relate to each other differently before we can relate to Indigenous nations differently. We have to be differently in our homes, our workplaces, and our lives, before we can walk differently on the land. If you KNOW now, if you SEE now, you have a responsibility to confront settler colonialism wherever you encounter it.
Are you ready for that? Because it means you will have to engage your families, your friends. You can’t let racism or ignorance slide. And you can’t ever, not for one second, think that you know enough or have done enough. Do you want to be an ally to Indigenous peoples? Then here is one more hard truth you must accept: ally is a verb, not a noun. It’s something you do, not something you are.
There is always more to be done because there are always those who, when confronted with their own illegitimacy, choose to usurp. There will always be colonizers. We ourselves – and I speak from experience – will always be tempted, seduced back into the easy path of taking rather than giving, of demanding our rights rather than living our responsibilities.
And it is not our Indigenous hosts’ responsibility to challenge this colonization; we brought it with us when we came here, and it is up to us to expel it from our lives.
I’ll leave you with one more thought, my fellow Settlers: a friend of mine once told me “Freedom is the other side of fear”. What are we afraid of, really? Freedom itself? Or just the change it would take for us to be free? Right now we are not free. We’re shackled by our arrogance, our conviction that our societies are good, or perfect, or just. We’re shackled by our own hands. Ask yourself this: are Idle No More and the many other Indigenous movements that have and continue to thunder across our nations really calling for you to give them freedom? Or are they really demanding that you fight for your own?