Hypocrisy on display in criticism of new GG
How many in positions of power know little about Indigenous cultures and history?
Taking advantage of his rather unique role in our media ecosystem, Radio-canada's Jean-rené Dufort (Infoman) once quizzed all leaders of the National Assembly's main political parties on a most basic yet revealing matter. Name the 11 Indigenous nations in Quebec, and locate their territories on the map, he asked in 2018. The question was simple. The results were mostly appalling, and, given the tone of the show, dismissed as a laughing matter.
It was OK, just three years ago, for aspiring premiers to know nothing of Indigenous Peoples living in Quebec. The revelation did not create a scandal nor did it stir any uproar. Why? Because the vast majority of the population, including journalists, can empathize with this level of ignorance. It is also theirs.
In the 1990s and 2000s, I learned that Jacques Cartier and Samuel de Champlain met with Indigenous Peoples during their exploration voyages. We were taught the “Iroquoians” dwelled in longhouses, the “Algonquians” in teepees and the Inuit in igloos. Some were hunter-gatherers, others cultivated corn. There were canoes in the south and kayaks in the north. Some Indigenous Peoples were nice because they gave settlers some remedies for scurvy. Others were mean and aggressive because they were allies of the British. Only one Indigenous woman had a name, it seems: Kateri Tekakwitha, a 17th-century Mohawk girl that French-canadian missionaries had converted to Catholicism; she was canonized in 2012. The one and only model of what a “good” Indigenous person ought to be, in short.
We then moved on to the next chapters of our history books. After the fur trade, there were no more mentions of Indigenous Peoples. One could easily infer that they altogether belonged to the past, and had somehow vanished over time from the continent.
The generation that follows me has learned slightly more. Those who preceded me have learned not less, but worse.
When Inuk diplomat Mary Simon was nominated Governor General of Canada last week, she immediately apologized for not speaking French. She explained that the federal day school she was forced to attend in Nunavik did not give her access to French lessons, but that she was committed to learning the language now. An outcry immediately ensued in Quebec. If she had a career in public service, why had she never bothered to learn before? Was it too much to ask that the official head of state speak both official languages? Was the pick a slight to francophones across the country?
The basic argument here is: Her not learning French earlier shows disrespect, and francophones deserve respect and recognition from their state institutions. Indeed, they do. Therefore, might I ask: What does it mean that so many people in this country, including past and present premiers, as well as some of our most senior journalists, have never taken the time to learn even the simplest things on Indigenous cultures and our history of colonization? If even the most energetic self-titled allies usually sit through elderled prayers and land acknowledgments with a gaping mouth and glassy eyes, and will learn multiple foreign languages before they get past “miigwetch,” is that a show of disrespect too?
Because let's be honest. The level of ignorance acceptable for non-indigenous Peoples holding office is less akin to Simon not speaking French than to her not even knowing that the French and the English are two different peoples with different customs and legal systems, and having a hard time locating their European homelands on the map. Which of course, is a ludicrous notion.
Like Simon, most non-indigenous people were deprived of an opportunity to know better by the school system. Rather than drowning in helpful, individual guilt, all of us can bear in mind that there is a systemic cause to the current state of affairs. And just like Simon, we can commit to overcome that ignorance and make learning a lifelong journey. Because while her position is mostly symbolic, the ignorance of those with real power has dire consequences. When prejudice and inconsideration fills the head of a premier, a chief of police, a nurse or a bureaucrat, lives can be profoundly altered, and even taken.
Asking for recognition and respect is always just. But without reciprocity, the demand leaves an aftertaste of hypocrisy and becomes hard to differentiate from a show of colonial arrogance.
Let's encourage Simon to learn French — and, in the same breath, acknowledge that the vast majority of non-indigenous people in positions of power are not only far from being fluent in an Indigenous language, but still wading in a swamp of ignorance and prejudice that should from now on, at the very least, be denounced as a lack of professional competency. Let's get out of that mud ourselves before we dissert too profusely on the standards others should be held to.