The Mistake by the Bay: How Iqaluit is kept afloat by endless federal cash

"Apparently we have administered the vast territories of the north in an almost continuing absence of mind." - Louis St. Laurent - 1953

“Your shot, Nigga!” yelled my pool playing opponent.  I responded with a perplexed look, which prompted him to add, “What, you don't like that?  How ‘bout I call you white trash?  Is that better?  You come up here from the South, steal our land and fuck our women, then you leave.”  I remained speechless.  Then my opponent cracked a smile, put out his hand, and said "I’m just kiddin’, buddy.”  Unfortunately, he was kicked-out of the bar for being intoxicated before I could formulate any verbal response.

Where, on a spring night in Iqaluit, did this man wind up?  An Inuk male.  One of only 70,000 in the whole world... with nowhere to go and nothing to do. 

We must remind ourselves that not long ago, things were not like this.  The town of Iqaluit did not a single permanent resident before 1942.  While indigenous populations in Ontario and Quebec have had in some cases 300 years of experience with European settlement, Baffin Island’s inhabitants carried on in virtual isolation on land that was not strategically important to European settlers.

It wasn’t until the mid-1950s that Iqaluit, known at the time as Frobisher Bay, began to be settled, primarily because of the construction of an American airbase and Distant Early Warning Line that were part of the Cold War effort to thwart a potential Soviet attack.  These developments prompted a renewed interest in Canada’s Arctic, epitomized in a passionate 1958 speech by then-Prime Minister John Diefenbaker, in which he outlined his “northern vision” for development.

The outcome of this vision read like one long, sad poem, one that includes: residential schools, the introduction of new laws, non-traditional foods, alcohol, access roads and buildings, mineral exploration and the destruction of ecosystems.

Today, the majority of Inuit in Iqaluit find themselves divorced from their ancestral way of life, residing in mostly makeshift shacks, saddled with a 28% unemployment rate, overcrowded housing, and Canada’ highest levels of substance abuse and suicide.  Inuit environmental activist Shelia Watt-Cloutier concludes: “Our families and communities have been shaken by the change from a strong, independent way of life - living and learning from the land with our own education, judicial, social and economic systems now to a way of life highly dependent on substances, institutions and processes.”

Had he been around in 1950, it’s likely my Inuk pool-playing friend would not have been drinking, but instead hunting and fishing in communities following a seasonal, semi-nomadic pattern.  Learning, as Watt-Cloutier says, “to be brave and to withstand stress, to be patient and creative, bold under pressure and reflective, how not to be impulsive.”  She added: “The hunt is a powerful experience that sustains us spiritually and culturally.”

Diefenbaker’s “northern vision” has received enthusiastic reaffirmations from subsequent Prime Ministers Mulroney, Martin and Harper.  Yet, there are so many non-cultural barriers that hinder its success.  The barren lands surrounding Iqaluit yield few economic options, or prospects for sustainable civilization: Permafrost makes it impossible to cultivate fruits and vegetables, or run water and sewage lines underground or operate a feasible landfill system.  Iqaluit is Canada’s only capital city not accessible by highway, and its harbour is not deep enough to handle large ships during the short period every year when the waters thaw.  The New York Times estimates that over 90 percent of Nunavut’s budget comes from federal transfer payments, and yet more is needed to run the Territory.  In 2006, the Federal government was slapped with a $1-billion breach-of-contract lawsuit for failing to meet funding and development responsibilities under the Nunavut Land Claims Agreement.

We’ve been left with a no-win situation in Nunavut.  The Government of Canada spends $700 million annually on a population of 29,474 to impose a system of living incongruous with the land and climate conditions that is largely unwanted by the Native residents.  Lurking beneath this government-funded gravy train are feelings of mutual resentment between the Inuit and ‘white’ population.  Inuit watch Southerners arrive in Iqaluit, make double the salary for the same work they’d be doing at home, cash out and leave.  Meanwhile, the white people I talked to describe a social playing field tilted completely toward the Inuit.  They complain that Inuit employment quotas result in jobs for under-qualified people in the government bureaucracy.  Whites also perceive feelings of ingratitude from the Inuit towards the opportunities and attractions government programs and Western-style civilization can provide.

Steven Harper has made bold proclamations concerning Nunavut.  His “use it or lose it” approach includes the construction of a world class Arctic research station, new army training centres, vessels and the refurbishing of a deep water port at Nanisivik.  These proposals sound decent as long as you don’t give them much thought.

I ask: Do we just wish we could go back 60 years and prevent all this from happening? What did colonization ever hope to offer the Inuit anyway besides indoctrination into a mode of living on land inhospitable to its necessities?

Many Inuit admit that European culture had brought materials, such as iron, that have greatly improved their way of life in Nunavut.  One wonders what could have been, had Canada’s relationship with the Inuit remained exclusively on a mutually beneficial trade basis.  Perhaps, the traditional Inuit lifestyle could have been preserved.  It is the only viable strategy for existence in a place like Iqaluit: its harmony with nature has been honed to perfection from centuries of thriving in a barren, hostile environment, utilizing the limited resources offered by the land.

Post-script:

“I am part of a generation that has experienced tumultuous change in a very short period of time.  Many told me that we were most likely doomed to become a footnote to globalization.  We invented homes of snow, warm enough for our babies to sleep in naked.  We invented the qajaaq, the most ingeniously engineered boat.  Inuit won’t disappear or be wiped out by globalization.  Rather, we hope our destiny is to light a beacon for the world.” – Shelia Watt-Cloutier

Comments (0)

Subscribe to this comment's feed

Write comment

Email Name		Title Comment smaller | bigger
		I have read and agree to the Terms of Usage. Write the displayed characters Add Comment