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![]() What's in a Name?Gordon GibsonWords are so important in determining how clearly we think. They can come freighted with baggage, good and bad. Often, emotionally-charged words are deliberately used to mislead in public policy debate. When this happens, the technique should be exposed and more neutral language suggested. This is fundamental for any mediator trying to facilitate an agreement. Words must be found which are respectful of the other party, and conducive to clear thought. Many of the words used in the dialogue on aboriginal/non-aboriginal relations are, however, in fact barriers to understanding, and serve to mislead not only the listener but the user of the words as well. There are two classes of misuse. The more innocent is the "romantic" group, where connotations of grandeur are imported for very ordinary concepts. A good example from ordinary politics is the fine title "Member of Parliament." The real definition of an MP is "powerless representative of about 100,000 people; loyal partisan spear carrier." Words in the "romantic" group in aboriginal affairs include "Chief," "Grand Chief," "elders," variations of "healing circles," and so on. The real meaning of Chief is "titular head of small collectivity; often elected," and of elder, "purportedly wise old person." The reality is a good deal less impressive than the wrapping. The grand daddy of this form of romanticized reality is the Greenpeace phrase "ancient rain forest." An ancient rain forest is nothing but a collection of decadent timber in a place where it is very wet, but that accurate description raises far less in the way of cash donations to the cause from gullible Europeans who clearcut their forests centuries ago. The same power of romance resides in "Chief" and the like. At first glance one might think this issue of title as harmless as a well know service club referring to its head person as "Imperial Potentate." The difference is that service clubs do not claim a distinct status in Canadian society based on supposed difference. The demonstration and exploitation of supposed difference is the central foundation of the Indian Industry, and therefore a matter of important public policy. Office holders are merely human beings, and the black robes of a judge, the "Honourable" of a cabinet minister, the ceremonial dress of a chief, or the title of "elder" all obscure this underlying reality. For clarity of thought, better they are all just "Mr." or "Ms." The more important misuse of words lies in positioning, in tilting the playing field of debate. As any general knows, one tries to appropriate the high ground in advance of the battle. In this context one of the most brilliant pieces of public relations in the public policy debates of this generation has been the coining and bringing into general use the phrase "First Nation." Previous references to Indian collectivities have mostly been to "bands" (in Canada) or "tribes" (in the United States). "Band" is the Indian Act word of choice. Many Indian spokespersons and scholars have long argued that the idea of "band" gives rise to an artificial fragmentation of a larger collectivity that would be better described in another way. For example, Okanagan Indians are legally divided into several bands, located in different geographical areas. However, historical evidence suggests a close cultural and social relationship between these bands. "Tribe," in fact, comes closer to the historical reality. Other descriptions such as "cultural community" could work. However, the new word of choice in the Indian industry is that of "nation." It must be said at once that this is not an incorrect use of the word "nation," in that this meaning of a cultural collectivity is included in any lengthy dictionary definition of the word. It is simply misleading. The problem with this usage in a public policy debate is that most Canadians are not lexicographers. They instinctively hear the first (and for most people, only) meaning of the word in today's usage, which is the idea more fully spelled out by "nation-state." Thus a reference to Indian collectivities, mostly very small (a few hundreds or thousands of souls) as "nations" for the ordinary reader or listener manages to import and confer on that collectivity the trappings of nation-states. The connotations thus conferred are of sovereignty, self-sufficiency, durability, international recognition, moral authority, and so on. Few readers stop to think about this; if they did, a flag would go up. Normally, the subliminal connection is made. So far, so confusing - but now the true brilliance of the spinning exercise comes with the capitalization of "Nation" and the prefix "First." "First" is a very strong word in our language. It suggests primacy in both time (thereby conferring seniority) and in merit (thereby conferring status). The union of the two to yield "First Nation" thus says to the ordinary citizen who does not analyze words something like the following: We are dealing here with a group that has the status of a sovereign personality and the moral standing of a preferred entitlement. In other words, the use of "First Nation" assumes what most Canadians would say - if they thought about it - really remains to be proven. If you buy "First Nation," then you really have to buy Third Order of Government. If you buy "First Nation" you really have to buy the insistence upon "government-to-government" relationships, as equals, as demanded by many Indian collectivities. This is why the smokescreen of "municipal status," which is how senior governments try to pass off the Third Order arrangements of the Nisga'a Treaty, is so misleading. The City of Vancouver, with hundreds of thousands of citizens, a democratic and accountable government, vital in culture, self-sufficient in taxes, could never pretend to the estate of a "First Nation." The final, and almost insuperable word problem comes with "aboriginal" itself. The very word suggests that aboriginals are different from the rest of us as human beings, which is demonstrably not the case. As long as we wish to discuss this issue, we will have to use that word, but the dangers need to be clearly kept in mind. The problem is tough enough without the confusion of misleading words.
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