Missed lessons of missing women
To succeed, Ottawa’s indigenous women inquiry must avoid B.C.’s mistakes
It will be lengthy, expensive and painful. Longer, more expensive, more painful than promised, for all of us, if done right.
The federal inquiry into missing and murdered indigenous women and girls must be brutally honest, the participation unfettered, or nothing will come of it, count on that.
Formally launched in Ottawa last week, with an initial phase to determine its mandate, the inquiry can’t be just another pro forma process that repeats the mistakes and failures of inquiries past.
The most recent and closest ex- ample of what might have been — and wasn’t — is B.C.’s Missing Women Commission of Inquiry. Conceived in 2010 with hearings underway a year later, ending with a final report that’s collecting dust, the B.C. inquiry was a political and administrative debacle, beset with difficulties and controversy from the start.
It was called by the province to examine the disappearance of women from Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside (DTES) and to determine why it took police years to apprehend serial killer Robert Pickton.
Most of Pickton’s victims were marginalized, indigenous women l i ving in t he DTES. First Nations groups and individuals complained bitterly of their exclusion at the inquiry, claiming the refusal to hear them made a mockery of the whole effort.
Meanwhile, millions of tax dollars were spent on lawyers for police at the inquiry, while some of the commission’s own counsel billed outrageous amounts, close to $ 500,000 each, for 10 months of work.
Led by commissioner Wally Oppal, the inquiry tightened its schedule and culled its witness list once issues inside the hearing room heated up and fingers began to point in certain directions; some advocates in the room raised allegations of an inquiry coverup. Oppal’s own office suffered internal strife, with former staff members claiming they’d been subjected to sexist or disparaging comments in the inquiry workplace.
Perhaps the lowest point came halfway through the hearings, when a young Vancouver lawyer appointed to represent aboriginal interests at the inquiry resigned, claiming t he process was stacked in favour of power- ful, vested interests.
“Given that these hearings are largely about missing and murdered aboriginal women, I didn’t think I should fight to have their voices heard,” Robyn Gervais told Oppal in her emotional resignation address, after 38 days of testimony from police.
Oppal was sympathetic to those concerns. He had, in the inquiry’s early stages, pleaded with the province to fund more aboriginal groups. He was rebuffed. On other occasions he displayed brittle impatience, snapping that his inquiry wasn’t designed to examine every detail of Canada’s colonial and violent past.
He was correct, but the comments infuriated aboriginal groups, who felt marginalized yet again. It didn’t help that before his appointment as commissioner, Oppal served as B. C. attorney general, and in that capacity, he suggested an inquiry into missing women wasn’t necessary.
The whole truth about the DTES missing women and compromised police investi- gations never came out. The inquiry did produce a strongly worded final report, with 65 recommendations. “As a society, we must take action to directly address these underlying causes that contribute to women’s vulnerability to violence and serial predation,” Oppal wrote.
“I focus on the DTES because that is central to my mandate, but I recognize that aboriginal women and marginalized women are more vulnerable to predation wherever they live; thus these conditions must be addressed through both local and broader strategies. In the face of the tragic story of the missing women, we can no longer stand by or take halfmeasures.”
But the province i s doing just that. Last year, B.C.’s Ministry of Justice released a “final status update report” on its response to the Oppal i nquiry, claiming “significant action taken on the recommendations, with work underway or complete on more than 75% of them.”
The report reads as if saying: “We’re still working on stuff, but don’t expect further updates on what we’re doing, because this report is our last.”
The province bungled a key measure Oppal said should be adopted immediately, to “develop and implement an enhanced public transit system to provide a safer travel option connecting the Northern communities, particularly along Highway 16,” the so- called Highway of Tears, where more than a dozen women have gone missing or have been murdered while travelling.
B. C.’s Ministry of Transportation has met with community groups and First Nations leaders to examine safe transportation options along the highway, and on Friday, it said the province will soon be announcing “further transportation i mprovements.” But it has resisted calls to actually fund public transit on the highway, a key Oppal measure. And two months ago, i t came to l i ght that ministry bureaucrats had destroyed access to information requests related to any progress made on the file.
Such is the tattered legacy of B. C.’s murdered and missing women inquiry. Ottawa can learn from these mistakes. Before the lawyers have left the room and a final report is produced, the federal inquiry must welcome the women most affected to speak. Give them the power to control the agenda, get inside our collective heads and make us think. The country must listen and act, or another opportunity will be lost.
Ottawa can learn from these mistakes