Governments mobilize for a virus, but not for clean water

We can only hope Canadians will some day summon the same conviction for the Indigenous file

Words fail. Over 40 years ago a group of artists gathered in front of the Art Gallery of Ontario to protest the exhibition on view inside which included some of their work. A curious response on the face of it. Called “Changing Visions — The Canadian Landscape,” the show was sponsored by Reed Limited, the pulp and paper mill near Dryden, Ont., that dumped untreated mercury waste into the Wabigoon River during the 1960s.

The consequences of mercury poisoning were known then, having been identified in Japan as a neurotoxin affecting the brain and nervous system causing tremors, impaired vision and loss of muscle co-ordination. For the artists the issue was their being associated with the company responsible, whose officials were taking refuge in the claim mercury existed naturally and the company’s effluent was not the only source. The artists’ protest was based in their legal right to protect their work from being associated with companies or activities they don’t support; aptly called moral rights.

The saga began with the construction of the Whitedog Falls dam on the English River in 1958 causing floods that displaced several Indigenous communities. In 1963 the federal government had actually moved Grassy Narrows First Nation several kilometres south, ostensibly to improve access to provincial roads and services.

By 1970 both Manitoba and Ontario had both verified the high mercury levels. Studies by the Government of Ontario led to the cautioning of Grassy Narrows residents to limit their intake of fish. Simultaneously it closed down the commercial fishery, adding pressure to continue consuming walleye.

In 1975 when Dryden Chemical, the new owner of the mill, was finally ordered to stop polluting, the waste was kept on-site for disposal later. It seems “later” never happened. As David Bruser reported recently in the Toronto Star, although the company ceased using mercury “the fish at Grassy Narrows remain the most contaminated in the province.” His investigation suggests the source is the 1960s waste embedded in river banks and sediment and on the mill property, being released over time.

In 1976 there were few details to be had, and many doubted the Japanese scientists, which left prejudice to do the talking. Today, we have the evidence of the early deaths and the studies Bruser cites showing children born to mothers who ate fish regularly were “four times more likely to have a learning disability or nervous system disorder slowing their progress in school.”

Moreover, in 2016 Japanese experts in mercury poisoning determined that more than 90 per cent of the residents of Grassy Narrows, and nearby Wabaseemoong (Whitedog) First Nations show signs of exposure.

In the 1070s there was mounting public concern about the environmental effects of industrial activity. Reed’s bid to log 50,000 square kilometres of boreal forest in 1976 elicited a public outcry that included the artists’ protest. It also led to the Royal Commission on the Northern Environment, which reported in 1985. A key recommendation was for the province to support northern First Nations through measures such as land grants to crown lands (including resource rights). This was ignored. We can only wonder how recent history might have played out had it not been.

By contrast, the long campaign of artists and their union (CAR/FAC) to have an Exhibition Right enshrined in the Copyright Act succeeded in 1988. So, while exhibition fees are now the established practice in public art galleries across Canada, we have utterly failed to deal with the industrial devastation at Grassy Narrows. And, while it has certainly been encouraging to see the government’s response to the coronavirus, we can only hope Canadians (and our government) will some day summon that kind of confident conviction, and cash, for the Indigenous file.

The fact remains that we can mobilize billions for a virus that affects everyone, our government still can’t deliver clean water to Indigenous communities. It’s a situation that implicates us all, and makes one wonder whether we have lost our morality along with our understanding of Canada’s history of racist colonialism.

Susan Crean is a writer and was the executive secretary of Canadian Artists’ Representation (CAR/FAC) during the early 1970s. Her most recent book, “Finding Mr. Wong”was published in 2018. Gail Greer is a sociologist, retired business and investment manager, and an environmentalist.