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The conflict of interest case against deputy premier Jane Groenewegen has turned into a very expensive soap opera.
What started out as a complaint against Groenewegen has led to bias allegations against conflict commissioner Carol Roberts.
 Deputy Premier Jane Groenewegen wants to withdraw her bias complaint against conflict commissioner Carol Roberts. A committee of the legislature is studying her request. |
On and on it goes.
While conflict allegations against politicians are serious business, taxpayers are forced to sit back and watch as legal bills mount.
Although the government's board of management recently voted to cap legal bills in conflict cases to $250 a day, Roberts has told the legislative assembly's law clerk that her lawyers' fees could be as high as $300,000.
It's all paid by taxpayers and for that very reason, it's important that the legislative assembly be able to account for how that money is spent.
It's that issue -- how much Roberts' lawyers should divulge in their billing -- that has helped to slow down the matter.
Roberts and her legal team are worried that sharing too much information will violate attorney-client confidentiality.
Trouble is, she's not the only client: the people of the Northwest Territories pay the bills and deserve a full accounting. Surely there must be a way to do that while satisfying Roberts concerns.
What this whole process shows is that the territory's conflict law is no longer adequate.
The $1.7 million investigation of former premier Don Morin showed it, and we're learning it again.
How much will it cost taxpayers before politicians come to realize there must be a better way: better for those who pay the bills and better for the politicians who won't be forced to go through bureaucratic hoops to clear their names.
When Kenny Hudson wanted to establish Metis hunting rights in Wood Buffalo National Park, he went into the park and shot a bison.
He was charged and was taken to court but the federal government appears to want no part of it.
Charges against Hudson were eventually stayed, leaving the issue unresolved.
Now, the South Slave Metis Tribal Council have done the only thing it could to force the issue, deciding to issue permits to Metis who want to hunt on park land.
Direct action appears to be the only way for Metis to establish their rights in their traditional territory.
It's time for Parks Canada and the federal government to come to the table and establish once and for all what rights Metis do have.
It's hard to embrace the federal Firearms Act. While it may have started out as a well-meaning attempt to improve public safety, it rapidly turned into a vast waste of time and money.
The biggest problem is that it's turning otherwise law-abiding Nunavummiut into criminals. Hunters are forced to acquire ammunition illegally as they wait for their long overdue gun licences. Furthermore, if families obey the letter of the law, they have to travel and camp in polar bear country with unloaded guns.
Instead of being effective, the legislation has assumed all the trademarks of yet another attempt by the federal government to colonize Inuit. While we recognize the ink is barely dry on the legislation, it is not too early for our MPs to admit the act is flawed, delay implementation and rewrite the offending sections.
When asked why the city made no attempt to let residents know that it had accidentally dumped 300,000 litres of human waste into the ocean, Iqaluit city engineer Matthew Hough said "it wasn't necessary." We beg to differ.
Corrections In last week's edition of News/North, Susie Evyagotailak was incorrectly identified as Mary Hutchings. In the same edition, it was stated that the City of Iqaluit was convicted in 1993 of spilling sewage. At the time, however, sewage matters were under the jurisdiction of the government of the Northwest Territories, which bore full legal responsibility for the incident. We apologize for any inconvenience caused by the errors. |
That means it was absolutely necessary to inform your neighbours and co-residents of the accidents.
What makes the statement even more insulting is that the spills began in April. This was not a case of one isolated or even a very recent incident. The coverup here stinks every bit as badly as the septage that contaminated the water.
It's easy to laugh at the Canadian Alliance party's descent into political absurdity, if not political obscurity. But even those who consider themselves firmly entrenched on the other side of the ideological spectrum should take a moment to consider the real impact of Stockwell Day's leadership crisis.
Northerners know all too well what happens to democracy in the absence of an effective government opposition. Now the rest of the country does as well: we have given the governing Liberals our consent to do as they please.
Regardless of the Liberals' merits, or lack of them, this is not good for democracy. The only beneficiaries are ... well, journalists.
We are pleased that Iqaluit Mayor John Matthews is optimistic that lessons learned from the public services strike mean a repeat performance is unlikely when the new contract expires in a couple of years.
But optimism, even improved understanding of each side's position, may not be enough to ensure another mountain of garbage doesn't pile up at City Hall. More serious changes may be in order.
Labor unions still play a vital role, even for public employees who supply essential services. But it has become clear that union-management relationships are no longer healthy in many communities. Regardless of whose fault it is -- and each case is different, with bad-faith negotiating all too common on both sides of the bargaining table -- citizens have a right to be spared these indignities.
It is not unreasonable to expect those who supply essential services to carry out their duties, even without a valid contract. But if we remove a group's right to strike, we have to offer members of that group something in return.
Governments are understandably reluctant to accept binding arbitration, as such processes often end up costing more than politicians have democratically agreed to make available. But it is often the only alternative that offers a way out of this dilemma.
Waiting three months for voluntary mediation, as Iqaluit just did, simply isn't acceptable.
Nunavut and Iqaluit's governments could take a page from Nova Scotia's recent history. There the province eventually let an independent arbitrator settle the nursing labor dispute.
Yes, if all Nunavut's public sector contracts went straight to binding arbitration, it could mean higher taxes or even running budgets into the red. But is that really too much to ask in return for avoiding future fiascos the likes of the Iqaluit's garbage mountain?
Editorial Comment
Malcolm Gorrill
Inuvik Drum
The Great Northern Arts Festival gallery features a host of valuable and beautiful artwork. It's amazing to walk through it all for the first time.
It's even more amazing to walk through for the second, or third, time, and really see how striking a certain carving is, or how beautiful a certain painting is. It's clear that a lot of work went into each piece. It's also clear the festival attracts a lot of talented artists from all over.
Many of the artists have talked about the friendly spirit that's always present at the festival, as well as what a great opportunity this is for artists to meet old friends, make new ones, and exchange ideas.
This event may encourage artists to try new techniques in the near future, and will serve to inspire them to keep plugging away at their craft.
If the event serves to help artists in a variety of ways, the festival is also valuable for local residents and visitors. This is a rare opportunity to see such a large collection of art from such a wide area. And it's not just that the artists are far apart geographically.
There are many, many different art forms on display, from painting to carving (with many materials), and from beading to print-making.
Then there's the entertainment, which organizers say has grown over the last few years. Since opening night lots of musicians have been playing a variety of instruments at both official and impromptu functions.
All of which adds to the whole experience for artists and fans alike.
Speaking of which, the Tuktoyaktuk Drummers and Dancers performed in front of a large crowd Saturday evening, and did an incredible job. Kudos to them, as well as other performers taking part in the festival.
Behind the scenes
Events like the Great Northern Arts Festival don't just happen by chance.
Someone has to operate the till, help out in the kitchen or gallery and run the uncounted number of errands necessary to keep things running smoothly. Volunteers account for much of this much needed, if under appreciated, work.
At least 60 people are volunteering at this year's festival. Some have come from great distances just so they could volunteer here. Kudos to those donating their time to help make the festival a more enjoyable experience. It's safe to say it couldn't operate well without their help.
Editorial Comment
Dave Sullivan
Deh Cho Drum, Fort Simpson
There is a feeling that it may finally be Fort Simpson's turn to capture some of the prosperity that is blowing through other Northern communities.
A renewed interest in unlocking Fort Simpson's economic potential is a step in the right direction. But it could be that nothing big will happen until the Deh Cho self-government process spells out how to divvy up the resources between aboriginal and other governments.
At the Deh Cho assembly in Kakisa last month, Dene Chief Bill Erasmus was critical of the time it will take to reach a final agreement on resource control through the Deh Cho process. He could think of no reason for talks to take an estimated seven to 10 years.
Negotiators may be able to think of plenty of reasons, including the number of billable hours they can invoice clients over a decade.
Deh Cho First Nations hope to gain full control over resources, and that probably doesn't matter a bit to exploration companies.
Dealings with oil companies over the past two years suggest they don't mind paying large royalties. There is plenty of money to go around as long as prices stay in the stratosphere. They also don't care who they pay, as long as the rules are consistent.
Is the minister listening?
It could be that Health Minister Jane Groenewegen is listening to the Deh Cho Health and Social Services Board. Late Monday, her office announced a two-week extension for the board and others to respond to sweeping changes in the health care system that were recommended by Edmonton consultant George Cuff.
Reducing the number of health regions and boards from nine to three is the the main recommendation that would affect the Deh Cho region. The local board would be no more.
Board members and others had complained there was not enough time to examine the wordy document. One politician even demanded a plain-English summary of the report's 62-page executive summary.
Public comment will now be received until Aug. 15.
Editorial Comment
Jorge Barrera
Kivalliq News
My second night in Rankin Inlet I ate goose and drank the broth. Like a slow fever it coursed through my limbs and I was warm. I'll never forget that.
I've sat long on the slope behind the community arena and stared at the curvature of the earth, the sky bending like a great arc over the horizon, holding the longest sunsets, the blades of the windmill frozen, a white silhouette against the purple sky at the edge of the runway.
Summer came in spurts during my brief five-week stay here on the shores of the Hudson Bay but I've never seen snow in July.
This is my last editorial and five weeks wasn't long enough. At this moment it's difficult to think of what I liked best about my stay here. Is it the people I've met? The landscape? The square dances?
Right now out my window the sky is overcast and the hum of Hondas come and go, a constant murmur always in the background as a deadline looms and my flight leaves in an hour and a half. Small memories from a brief time come in jumbles and pile like toys dumped from a box.
All I know is this place can woo you, cut the knees from under you and make you cry.
This land at the end of things, on the edge of the world, with its brief summers, burning springs and long winters and its caribou herds, whales, seals, the caravan of Hondas on the weekly Friday exodus to cabins scattered from here to the Diand River and beyond. The tundra flowers like droplets splattered from a paint brush, blue, reds, yellows, over the green of tundra, easy to miss.
I remember sitting in an elders' living room as he explained the art of the harpoon. He held it in his hand, perfectly balanced, describing the seal hunt in Inuktitut and I didn't understand a word. When the translation came I knew it was different. The hunt I heard in English was not the same hunt the elder described in Inuktitut.
There's a whole other world in which this seal hunt existed that lies in the space between stones and sky, known only to those who understand the language. Not just Inuktitut, but the language of this place.
It is this mystery that creates the magic of the land that lives in the perception of a people who sprung from its earth. It is something I can never know, only sense like some faraway smell in memory, but it is the one thing I'll remember from my stay in Rankin Inlet.