Important for inquiry to hear more voices

One purpose of the national inquiry into murdered and missing indigenous women, set to begin hearings in May, is to provide some catharsis, and ultimately, a long-overdue sense of justice to victims’ families. This, of course, assumes that family members, who have been waiting for years, will finally be given a chance to speak.

Yet in the seven months since it was created the inquiry has struggled to identify victims’ family members. It currently knows fewer than 100. For this, the inquiry’s commissioners blame the government, and vice versa. With little time before testimony begins, both parties should put finger-pointing aside and work quickly and cooperatively to prepare.

The inquiry’s task is both profoundly complex and vitally important. Its commissioners have been called upon to identify the roots of the longstanding epidemic of violence against indigenous women; to recommend concrete proposals to curb this violence and seek justice for victims and their families; and to advise governments on how best to honour the many who have gone missing or been killed over the past three and a half decades.

Advocates have been calling for this probe for more than a decade. And the Liberal government at first seemed to understand the urgency, imposing a tight deadline: a preliminary report is to be issued in November of this year, followed by a final document in December 2018.

Yet since Ottawa’s initial announcement, the inquiry’s progress has been painfully slow and its work, such as it is, troublingly shambolic. Not until September 2016, nearly a year after it was promised, was the inquiry finally formed, before going silent until its first news conference in February of this year. Now, with testimony set to begin, it seems that its database of potential witnesses is sorely lacking, as the Globe and Mail revealed this week.

That the inquiry’s list of family members contains only 90 names is shocking. The number of indigenous women who have gone missing or been murdered since 1980 is estimated to be between 1,200 and 4,000. Moreover, many of their names are part of the public record. Several non-profit groups and news organizations have maintained lists. How, then, has the inquiry collected so few names over seven months?

According to the commissioners, the trouble is that the government has refused to share with them the contact information of those who came forward to participate in its pre-inquiry engagement. The government, for its part, plausibly says it can’t hand over information that was provided on the condition of anonymity. But there’s confusion. Some people who participated in the engagement did so believing that their information would automatically be passed on to the inquiry.

Commissioners, meanwhile, say they know many victims’ names, but in some cases lack contact information and, more generally, prefer not to approach family members, and thus risk re-traumatizing them. Instead, they hope families will come to them.

Forget fault here; this is not good enough. Family members are already expressing concern that they won’t have an opportunity to speak and many have no idea of what steps to take.

The government, if it hasn’t done so already, should reach out to those who previously volunteered and ask if they want to be contacted by the inquiry. And the inquiry should start using the resources at its disposal. It is stunning, for instance, that the Native Women’s Association of Canada, which has long studied this issue, has apparently not been contacted by commissioners.

The inquiry should be working with its partners, including non-profit groups and indigenous chiefs, to ensure that those who want to speak can. The success of this vital and overdue work depends on it.