By François Bellemare
The representative of the monarchy and thus the official head of state of Canada, Her Excellency Mary Simon has followed a unique life path. In an age when Quebec’s Inuits are talking about self-government, here then is the unique destiny of Ningiukudluk, the daughter of Kangiqsualujjuaq.
This 77-year-old Nunavimmiut (person from Nunavik) was born in 1947 in Kangiqsualujjuaq. Her father was an Anglophone British man, and her mother was Inuit. In this eastern corner of Ungava Bay which slowly began to see its semi-nomadic families settle down in one place, the early childhood of the girl her family would nickname Ningiukudluk (translatable as “little authoritarian granny”) developed along traditional lines, with caribou hunts and dog sleighing.
She went to federal school in Kuujjuaq, which gave its instruction entirely in English, punishing children who dared to speak Inuktitut. This system of education unique to the far north of the province – imposing English and banning Inuktitut – lasted until René Lévesque became Minister of Natural Resources. Lévesque tried to slowly enact teaching in Inuktitut in kindergarten and grade 1.
As part of the first generation of Inuit with greater access to post-secondary education, Simon studied journalism in Colorado (her father had family there), then returned to the Arctic as a journalist with CBC North to report on the daily lives of Inuit communities. She was 24 when, beneath her feet, history suddenly sped up.
James Bay
Robert Bourassa’s government announced the project of the century: the construction of giant dams in the James Bay watershed that would forever alter the lives of the region’s Cree and Inuit. That generation’s leadership of these two indigenous peoples, armed with their degrees, would take the matter to the Quebec Court. In 1973, the Indians of Quebec Association (IQA) won the famous Malouf decision, ordering a suspension of all construction activities until an agreement with the indigenous peoples was reached. Even though the Quebec Court of Appeals soon diluted the decision, young militants entered into negotiations that would, in 1975, result in the signing of the James Bay and Northern Quebec Agreement (JBNQA) with the Cree and Inuit (and later with the Naskapi).
They ceded their ancestral rights – never very clearly defined – in exchange for modern institutions that they themselves would manage: municipalities, schoolboards, super-municipal regional administrations, etc. Moreover, there would be financial compensation that, for the Inuit, would be managed by the Makivvik Corporation, of which Mary Simon would be vice-resident, then president. For five decades she remained in the forefront of Inuit society.
She reminds us of several areas in which she has played a role over the last few decades: in the historic 1973-75 negotiations over the JBNQA, then in the constitutional negotiations of 1982 – at the end of which was produced Article 35 of the Canadian Constitution, which deals with the recognition of indigenous rights, separated into three categories: First Nations, Inuit and Métis.
She would then assume the presidency (1986-92) of the Inuit Circumpolar Conference, later the Inuit Circumpolar Council. While she was there the United Nations adopted the Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. As Canada’s Ambassador to Denmark (which also includes Greenland), she supported the creation of the Arctic Council, an intergovernmental forum bringing together eight nations on three continents.
She was also president of the Inuit Tapiriit Kanatami (the organization representing all of Canada’s Inuit). She also participated in numerous organizations dealing with culture and education. Now involved in the complex “reconciliation” issue, she calls on “an effort from everyone so that our different cultures can exist side by side, in peace.”
The only thorn in her paw: having started too late to learn French, despite decades of talks with Quebec officials. In other interviews, she explains this as a weakness stemming from her 1950s federal schools education.
The Militant
Spontaneously, she drops her rehearsed tone to adopt a more engaged manner of speaking. With the soft accent of her mother tongue, she first of all recognizes the advantages gained from the 1975 agreement, considered the first modern treaty between whites and Aboriginals.
With a finely-honed argument, and in an almost militant manner, she talks about negotiating a new stage. “Nunavik needs to train more professionals, and in every area: teaching, health, transportation, administration. The training doesn’t have to only aim for academic success; but also the passing of our culture to future generations. Why not develop a curriculum in Inuktitut for teaching maths or sciences? Nunavik’s youth should rise to this challenge.”
Mary Simon isn’t blind to the social problems Inuit communities face, including mental health in isolated localities. “The pandemic made things worse. Let’s hope that the post-COVID era makes things better!”
Twice, an aide came to signal that the time scheduled for our interview had expired; twice, Her Excellency continued the conversation, concluding with the ongoing negotiations with Quebec. She hopes for a new agreement, one that she hopes will result in “Inuit self-government in Nunavik.” She admits that it’s a rough process.
But for the little girl from Kangiqsualujjuaq who has risen to become head of state, there is no challenge without a solution…
The author received a grant for this project from the Association des journalistes indépendants du Québec (AJIQ). Photo of Mary Simon taken by François Bellemare.
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