No leaders without followers

Call it what you will - a governmental crisis, a political crisis, a leadership crisis - the cancellation of the Mohawk Council of Kanesatake (MCK) general elections is a recipe for disaster for the community.

This is a community that remembers when a grand chief’s house and a police station were burned down amid political turmoil.

This is a place where fear has only grown in the community, a community of just a couple thousand people where arson is more common than statutory holidays, where a handful of people - some backed by organized crime - exploit the land to amass riches they use to bully and silence the people they grew up with, where the Surete du Quebec all but refuse to get involved - and same goes for any level of government with the ability to lend a helping hand.

And it’s a place, officially, where people don’t know who their leaders are.

The situation is a tinderbox. Why?

Well, for one, there is no consensus on who is running the show, who the legitimate government is, or even if there is a government at all.

Sound familiar? Unfortunately, this term has been defined by finger-pointing about the legitimacy of Council members. We have written countless articles over the years about this.

In one high-profile incident nearly two years ago, Victor Bonspille, the grand chief at the time, led two meetings where he took hand counts of mere dozens of people to determine that his five opponents on the seven-seat Council were removed by a vote of non-confidence, which in no conceivable way follows due process, even if he did it twice.

He even led a small group of community members in chaining up his own band office to prevent his colleagues from going to work.

He has, since then, made a habit of referring to these political rivals as so-called chiefs, former chiefs, what have you - removed by the capital-p, People. Was this true? The unfortunate thing in the time of Trump is that it doesn’t really matter; in at least some respects, it’s what people believe that matters, and this is borne out in Kanesatake’s political realities.

Why did Bonspille do this? His colleagues had launched their own sanctions for his violations of the Custom Electoral Code. An Ethics Commission of impartial lawyers was eventually formed and heard his appeal, finding against him and ruling that he was no longer grand chief.

But he refused to accept it; he kept calling himself grand chief, talking to representatives of other governments, attending intergovernmental meetings for chiefs.

Our thoughts at the time? Sure, his removal seems to be by the book, as many holes as the book has, but what good is an institution that is legitimate on paper but not in the minds of the people?

And the government? They threw up their hands and kept talking to both sides, not wanting to get involved, thus cementing the impasse.

Bonspille’s opponents on Council didn’t do themselves any favours. Kanesatake faces urgent issues, and Kanesatake laws may be one approach that could be effective and even sorely needed. But to hold a referendum during the election? It doesn’t do much to insulate you from the impression that your mission is to enact your will. In other words, it’s not good politics, and without good politics, you have nothing.

Rather than rally the people to their side in protesting Bonspille’s actions, they ignored the need to persuade the community that an elected grand chief had to be sidelined, setting up a situation where people didn’t know what to believe or just defaulted to their existing side.

And another thing they should have done? They saw through these years how incapable the electoral code was at providing guidance and outlining due process, so why was the idea of ratifying the code not brought up until it necessitated a mandate extension?

While we did our best to bring clarity to the people through this hectic, misinformation-plagued term - and we have never shied away from critical stories about the other side - it’s easy to see why readers view articles as one-sided when one side won’t talk to the local media, not even for an unfiltered “meet the candidates” slot, and even attacks our journalists by name publicly.

But what are the people to do? Most people aren’t lawyers, most people haven’t read and can’t really be expected to navigate the Custom Electoral Code that was ratified in 2015.

Even if they did read the code, they’d find little guidance about the present situation, with the chief electoral officer Graeme Drew and some incumbent Council chiefs armed only with rhetoric about the impossibility of having no government, making the incumbents a de facto leadership until a new one is elected.

This in a community hungry for change.

After all, as we all know, the mandate ended on July 31, two days before the election was supposed to be held, and with the cancellation at the last minute on August 1, legitimacy questions were inevitable.

Why was it not cancelled till the last minute when problems were known earlier, when Council chiefs could have still passed resolutions?

This election did not go well. The Eastern Door revealed last week that three candidates were believed to be ineligible. Now Drew says the true number was probably higher than that.

This campaign was plagued by the climate of fear that exists in Kanesatake, setting up a climate that has no place in a fair election, and we don’t know if things would be any better if an election went ahead.

But the electoral officer was naive here. After years of falsehoods and distortion in a community where there is so much anger and trauma, where it’s a known fact there are nefarious actors, and at this moment, when so much is coming to a head? This should be no surprise.

Background checks may be unreliable, or they may be onerous, but a less idealistic attitude about inclusion could have prevented at least one of the problems that led to the cancellation.

Someone violates campaign rules? Make a ruling and make it loudly. Let the appeals flow.

The electoral code doesn’t empower the electoral officer to send mailouts?

What’s the worst thing that could happen? It might end up in court. Now? That’s the best-case scenario.

And as for the plan to extend Council’s mandate by six months, ratify a new electoral code, then hold an election? Maybe immediate code reform - although the same code has navigated the community through two general elections already - is just what Kanesatake needs (one thing we think has to go is the rule that only those who have served a term as chief can be grand chief). Or maybe it’s just more idealism, unworkable in a community so divided at this moment. After all, this timeline would require things to go smoothly.

That plan needs one big thing: buy-in. But it’s landed with a big thud, so far as we can tell, one reason being that many people don’t see a mandate extension as legitimate.

The electoral code does state that the majority of participating community members is the final authority for all matters pertaining to the people and their territory. But who has the right to call the meeting where these decisions could be made?

It’s probably not one of the candidates via Facebook with less than 24 hours’ notice, where a decision was taken to solicit a new electoral officer and hold a new election immediately.

Only the courts can solve things now because as long as uncertainty exists, no one is going to be able to successfully hold a legally binding election that people will view as legitimate.

Even if you take the incumbent chiefs’ word that they don’t want to be in this position but are doing it out of duty, they need reasoning that doesn’t require debate.

It doesn’t help that Serge Otsi Simon told the community on Saturday that he was no longer a chief, but this week is winding that back and saying he has no choice but to fill the void created by the cancellation.

The electoral code, which so many have called “Swiss cheese,” says chiefs can extend their mandate by six months on an emergency basis by holding a special public meeting. This presumes there are chiefs to call the meeting, but assuming the community didn’t mean to write up a Catch-22, a public meeting seems necessary. But we all know how those go, and besides, there is so much anger that there is all but guaranteed not to be consensus on a mandate extension.

Council staff have said they are awaiting direction from ISC, having deactivated the incumbent chiefs’ email accounts and opted to put their heads down and keep the machine running, but ISC is cravenly staying out of it, saying Kanesatake will let them know who’s in charge. Knowing what could happen, that’s just cowardly.

And it’s another example of allowing the people to fight the people, and deal with the ones left standing.

Whose word from Kanesatake will they accept? They can’t answer simple questions that are frankly necessary to be able to answer.

This leaves confusion about who is empowered to call an election. The electoral code makes it Council’s responsibility to call an election. Yet some of the voices calling for the community to get their own electoral officer are some of the people who were so quick to demand that only what is explicitly outlined in the code should be followed.

This doesn’t sound like a recipe for an election the people or the courts will accept.

And if band council leadership isn’t decided by an election, how will it be decided, and by whom? Whose word will the government accept?

Surely there will be a court ruling or sober guidance of some kind, but it’s chaos until then.

Without the people’s faith that there is a de facto Council, Kanesatake is left with a power vacuum, and vacuums get filled quickly. The Quebec minister of Indigenous affairs told The Eastern Door a long time ago now that political turmoil on Council was cause for concern because of opportunities for organized crime.

Well, Quebec is staying out of it, period.

It’s a pivotal time in Kanesatake’s history. When the next election is finally held, we urge the community to ask themselves who is vying for a spot on Council to advance their own interests, and who is there to serve the community.

We urge community members to consider running themselves, lest those with ulterior motives win by acclamation.

Finally, this episode is yet another reminder that the system itself is rotten. Band council is inescapably colonial. Tons of Kanehsata’kehró:non boycott elections for this reason, and that’s more than understandable.

Whatever happens next is only a temporary solution. The bigger question is, what kind of community do Kanehsata’kehró:non want and what is needed to get there?

TED Staff