Friday, July 24, 1998
How far will territorial politicians go in shattering public confidence while inviting the laughter of the rest of the country?
A bunch of deals involving Premier Don Morin is put before conflict of interest commissioner Anne Crawford, an Iqaluit lawyer. Crawford decided there are grounds to hold a public inquiry.
Instead of co-operating to demonstrate his innocence and integrity, Premier Don Morin demanded Crawford remove herself from the case, which she quite rightly refused to do, having been appointed by the legislative assembly. To further show his contempt, the premier delayed for months giving information the commissioner needed to do her job.
Then the legislative assembly, through a secretive management services board not answerable to the public, refused to pay the legal bills of Jane Groenewegen, the MLA who brought the conflict of interest complaint forward.
Crawford ruled that Groenewegen's bills should be paid but the legislative assembly ignored her, much like the premier.
Meanwhile, Finance Minister John Todd gave a $500,000 contract to Roland Bailey, the person named in three of the eight conflict of interest allegations. Todd insists Bailey is the best person for the job but the government refuses to make public Bailey's qualifications as they did so readily with the contractors handling the government's pay-equity payroll proposal. So all we know of Bailey's skills is his close relationship with the premier, a relationship now being investigated.
The cabinet secretary may share the premier's contempt for the conflict inquiry and dismiss it as "highly irrelevant" but what relevance will an economic strategy have if the lead dog is caught in conflicts of interest with the premier? Then the question becomes economic strategy for whom? The premier and friends or the people of the NWT?
To give the sad comedy a new twist, the management services board, chaired by legislative assembly Speaker Sam Gargan, makes the bizarre decision to go on retreat to Calgary where, among other matters, they will decide whether to pay the legal bills for people appearing at the inquiry. As they can afford to fly the whole board out of the NWT for a thinkfest, money is not a problem in their minds, only the fear of paying to uncover the truth.
It all may make sense in the back rooms but to the public, the whole affair is a joke that makes fools of us all.
There are going to be more than a few Yellowknifers unhappy with Justice John Vertes' verdicts on the 23 charges Wing Lee was facing in NWT Supreme Court. The Crown, said the judge, produced enough evidence for a conviction on just seven.
For those with only a general knowledge of the case -- that police seized 1,300 videotapes and that some of the girls involved in Lee's crimes testified against him -- the judgment will come as a surprise and disappointment. It now looks like Lee will not serve anywhere as long a time in jail as many expected.
But Vertes' ruling is sound. The fact is, the Crown did not prove that Lee knew all of the girls were under 18. And without that proof, no matter how reprehensible the acts he committed, Lee could not be found guilty.
Statistics Canada dropped an interesting little bomb last week. According to their most recent figures, the population of the NWT is declining.
This runs contrary to the population of the country as a whole, which is increasing. It leads to questions about the accuracy of predictions of growth due to expanding resource development. The unbridled optimism that accompanied the construction of the diamond mines seems to have been a little premature.
Perhaps it is time to put the diamond-fever banners aside and reassess more realistically the impact of the diamond industry on Yellowknife. Enthusiasm is one thing, daydreaming is another.
Editorial comment
Glen Korstrom
Inuvik Drum
Visiting Yellowknife artist Antoine Mountain gave the opening prayer at the Great Northern Arts Festival July 17. On July 20, he told stories to expose influences in his art to a crowd of interested festival-goers.
Both times he said returning to Inuvik was difficult because it brought back memories of Grollier Hall and the assimilation-inspired residential school system he was forced to attend here as a child between 1959 and 1965.
Before Antoine spoke July 20, Baker Lake's Victoria Mamnguqsualuk Karyuryuk told rapt listeners through an interpreter how her mother, Jessie Oonark, had encouraged her in the family tradition of sewing and drawing.
Looking through photo books, her mother's art still motivates her though her mother passed on years ago, she said.
The two artists are an example of the many fascinating contrasts among aboriginal artists today -- contrasts that abound at the festival.
At 68, and unilingually Inuktitut, Mamnguqsualuk Karyuryuk resembles an archetype of what Northern Inuit life was like before the relatively recent onslaught of homogenizing southern corporate culture.
Bi-cultural and accepting, Mountain, 49, slipped seamlessly between his native Mountain Dene tongue and English. The Mountain Dene language is similar to North Slavey, but Mountain said the "Slavey" label is not preferred among his Mountain Dene tribe.
Instead of living a fully traditional life, which linguistic barriers force Mamnguqsualuk Karyuryuk to do, Mountain lives in more cosmopolitan Yellowknife and actively works to instill pride and identity in Dene youth.
He not only illustrates children's books but he affects subtle change while interacting one-on-one.
Decked out with long braids and colorful attire, he talked to one young Dene festival artist who wore a Metallica T-shirt.
"Anyone can advertise Metallica," he said.
"Not everyone can be a Dene or an Inuit artist."
The next day the youth was wearing more traditional garb.
Clearly, that's not an overnight transition. And there are steep mountains to hurdle before youth today grow up to view the world like Mamnguqsualuk Karyuryuk.
In reality, that will never happen.
The real wrong Mountain is fighting against is the ominous possibility that residential schools were a success. He fears that future Inuit and Dene will not even be bi-cultural, but will lose their historical culture altogether.
Editorial comment
Derek Neary
Deh Cho Drum
I think it's been said many times before that the weather is one of Canadians' obsessions.
Sure, everybody is concerned about their careers, personal lives and the economy, but when we're not preoccupied with those things, our thoughts often turn to the intense heat or the driving rain.
Naturally, the weather affects most of our plans. For instance, I had intentions of going to the Petitot River Gathering on Saturday. When it rained Thursday night, I became a little apprehensive because I remembered Arthur, the previous Drum editor, had warned me that a good rain could make a mess of the roads for a few days.
Then when it poured all night Friday, I knew the three-and-a-half hour drive (each way) could result in some serious damage to the truck not to mention a bump-induced headache.
Even though I was disappointed, I couldn't help but think of how thwarted the 58 scientists participating in the International Crown Fire Modelling Experiment must have felt.
During late June and early July, experts from all over the world set up shop in Fort Providence in an effort to study the dynamics of crown fires. Over a three-week period, eight plot fires were planned. In the end, only two could be set.
In conversation with Rick Lanoville, the manager of forest fire services, he said there was one day when everything was ready to go but just 20 minutes before igniting, a small cell formed over the area and dumped some rain. When I suggested they literally had a black cloud over their heads, he laughed.
What else can you do?
Mother Nature can be tampered with but she still holds the upper hand. For that reason, we are sometimes inclined to complain.
When it's hot and humid, we long for cooler weather. We bellyache over how hard it is to fall asleep. We gripe about the bugs.
Sometimes we curse the wind.
When it rains, our outdoor plans are often scuttled.
No rain means the grass dries up and forest fires wreak havoc.
When winter's bitterly cold days arrive, we can't wait for summer and we begin to count the days.
It's a never-ending cycle. It's part of the human condition.
Regardless, of the weather conditions, I was reminded on two occasions this past week of how lucky we are to be here in the North. Bill Laferte, the Metis Rambler, returned from his vacation in B.C. and had nothing but praise for the immaculate, relatively untainted beauty of this part of the country. Ditto for Laurie Forrest, who spoke earnestly of her adoration of the North's natural state.
Now, if we can only get some more sunshine...