The noble calls for a new constitution for the Western Arctic may well kill any chance we have of emerging a unified territory.
There are too many different agendas, histories and needs, all pulling different ways from region to region. There is no reason to expect concensus or common ground for compromise in the near future.
Hay River and Yellowknife are going head to head over the secondary diamond industry.
Yellowknife, Hay River and Rae Edzo are squabbling over a road to resources that may not see the light of day in 50 years, providing a deepwater port in the Kitikmeot doesn't kill the dream.
All the regions are dead set against Yellowknife getting more democratic representation in a new territorial government, an emotional issue creating deep rifts even in the town itself.
Then there is the future of the territorial government. Picture a fat moose up to its belly in snow while the wolves nimbly leap in to tear off chunks of meat.
The land claim groups, after decades of developing their own bureaucracies and political skills, are in various stages of readiness to take on self-government.
Every day they are sitting down with the federal government, discussing timetables and which powers and budgets they are expecting carve off from the present Government of the Northwest Territories.
Then there is the explosive matter of who will assume the collection of resource revenue from the federal government -- the various aboriginal governments or the territorial government? Clearly, DIAND's ministers will dictate the shape of the government of the new Western Territory and the process has many years left to go.
How can we even contemplate a constitution when we have no idea what the future will bring. Anyone who thinks we can is living in the past.
The danger is that by pushing for a new constitution, we force communities, regions and governments into opposing positions as they attempt to protect themselves from the unknown.
We would be far better off concentrating on economic alliances and opportunities. Let the political dust settle before we back ourselves into corners we'll never get out of.
The recent investment in some of the North's first mined diamonds by three local jewellers tips us off to a very real opportunity unique to the North.
Eldonn Jewellery, Zingara Jewels and Sashas Jewellery and Giftware purchased four diamonds mined the NWT, all with a laser-engraved polar bear inscribed on the diamond's girdle to show the diamond came from the North.
Most of the top of the line jewellery sold in the North is designed and set down south. With home grown diamonds, the door is wide open for Northern designers to get cracking on some made-in-the North designs.
It's yet another fortunate feature of the secondary diamond industry.
So determined are some factions of Canada's right wing to unseat the ruling federal Liberals that they have agreed to create yet another right of centre national political party.
Listening to the hot air wafting from a recent convention, it is clear that the United Alternative's sole mission is to win power. Lost in the fog of purely political rant, however, was any notion of formulating policies to appeal to a majority of voters.
Politics isn't sports, where it is possible to buy yourself a winner. Politics is about reaching voters. The Reform party began with fresh ideas and new policies. Now it is reduced to grabbing for power. No wonder voters are cynical.
Editorial Comment
Darrell Greer
Kivalliq News
Hanging around both inside and outside of the territorial court sittings in Rankin Inlet this past week, I was more than a little disturbed by how many of the younger people appearing had little or no respect for the proceedings.
Particularly on the outside, where many crudely joked about the sentences (or lack thereof) they had received, bragged about the exploits which had landed them there or just plain mocked the proceedings in general.
And, of course, there were the usual informed tidbits of advice passed on from the more experienced court dwellers on how to behave in front of the judge, the expected levels of remorse to be shown and a general smorgasbord of the ins and outs of playing the system.
As I stood off to the side listening to the ramblings of one of the more incessant young men on that day's agenda, my mind suddenly ventured back 25 years to when I accompanied my cousin to court to face a charge of shoplifting in the mid-'70s.
I remembered how quiet he was during our journey to the big town of Glace Bay where court was always held and how nervous he was sitting in the gallery waiting for his name to be called -- anxiously, and as subtly as possible, glancing around the crowded room to see who may be present from our hometown to spread the story of his wrongdoing.
Suddenly, as vividly as though it were just yesterday, I could see his left leg vibrating all the more quickly as the court bailiff worked through the alphabet, getting closer and closer to his family name.
I remembered seeing the lump slide ever so gently down his throat when his name was finally called and the soft red glow which spread slowly across his cheeks as he made his way hesitantly to the front of the room to face the judge. He never took his eyes off the floor as the charge was read against him and three different times he was asked to speak louder as he answered the judge's queries.
Was my cousin afraid? Not in the way one is afraid when alone on a dark and stormy night. And certainly not in the way one feels fear when faced with being stranded and alone to face the harsh Northern elements.
No, it wasn't fear, it was shame. My cousin was ashamed of himself and the actions he'd committed to land him in that situation. He was ashamed of how his family would feel when his name hit the local papers and he was ashamed he had the broken law.
He didn't fear the judge, he respected the robes, what they stood for and the power they afforded the man about to pass judgement on his behaviour.
I witnessed no fear at territorial court this past week, nor did I witness any shame or respect, and I left feeling more than a little empty inside.