William Payne
Thursday, September 7, 2000
Toronto Star
 
 "Gunboat Diplomacy in Canada"
 by William Payne
 
 A helicopter circles over our heads three times as we chat on the wharf.
 One man gets out binoculars to take a closer look, though we can almost
 see the faces without the help. For me, memories of being a human rights
 observer in a remote village in Chiapas, Mexico come back. Government
 surveillance feels the same in Canada, at least when you are in a First
 Nations community.
 
 The conversation shifts from the government helicopter to school starting
 in a few days. A Mi'kmaq mother expresses concern, as her daughter has
 been having nightmares because of the tensions. A father watches as his
 two daughters load three lobster traps into their small dory. I am
 reminded that I am here only for a short while but the Mi'kmaki of
 Esgenoopetitj (Burnt Church) will continue living here long after the
 current conflict is over.
 
 I am a full-time volunteer with Christian Peacemaker Teams (CPT), a
 violence-reduction programme of several North American churches. On leave
 from teaching high school in downtown Toronto, I am now sent by CPT to
 situations of conflict. This year, I have been sent both to Chiapas and
 to Esgenoopetitj.
 
 This is not the first conflict this community has faced, as reflected in
 its English name - Burnt Church. Over two centuries ago their ancestors 
 hid Acadians who were being sought by the British Army. Their church was
 burned in reprisal. We are reminded many times each day, as we listen to 
 the whirl of the helicopters, as we watch the surveillance planes a few
 metres from the shore, as we count the RCMP vehicles or the Department of 
 Fisheries and Oceans (DFO) boats around this small community, that the
 Canadian government is using "gunboat diplomacy."
 
 Let us remember what this is about. Non-natives have been granted
 permission for about three million lobster traps in the maritime provinces 
 and one company holds licences for a quarter of those traps. Hundreds of
 thousands of traps are licenced for this bay alone. Esgenoopetitj is 
 talking about a few thousand traps, and even by Canadian law Native
 fishing has priority over non-native fishing. If there is a conservation issue it
 is clear that the Native fishery is not the threat.
 
 A member of the Listiguj Rangers (the fisheries officers from another
 Mi'kmaq community) told me about a fisheries dispute there twenty years 
 ago. He was ten years old when hundreds of police raided their homes
 because of their salmon fishing. I had seen a National Film Board
 documentary about the incident and told him so: "I'm the little kid in the
 blue-plaid shirt on the bridge," he responded.
 
 Another young man speaks of the hard death of his father, a man scarred by
 residential school. The memory of those schools is never far away as
 every person here has a family member, a parent or a grandparent who was sent
 there. Then he tells me of his three-year old's nightmares in recent days 
 because of the helicopters.
 
 CPTers stationed here have also served in Chiapas, the West Bank, Haiti
 and Bosnia. Too often we are struck by the similarities. In all our projects 
 we search for ways of reducing the possibility of violence. In Chiapas we
 have camped out on a military base to pray for an end to the violence. In
 Hebron we have stood in front of machine guns.
 
 Here in Burnt Church we stand watch. On the shore, on boats, in our
 visits throughout the area, and in our phone calls, letters and emails, we try to 
 call the Canadian government to fulfil its obligations and
 responsibilities to the people of Esgenoopetitj.
 
 My own family arrived in Mi'kmaq territory, in the Annapolis Valley in Nova
 Scotia, back in 1760, the same year the treaty was signed that was affirmed 
 last year by Canada's Supreme Court. For five generations my ancestors
 were ships-carpenters, until my grandfather moved to Ontario. Along with 
 many Canadians, I have become aware of how much my own life has been built
 on the theft of land and resources from the First Nations. This is hard to 
 face, but only good can follow honesty and the search for a more just
 relationship. We know this in our bones.
 
 But it is also exciting to be here. It is always exciting to be in a place
 where there is great unity and great joy. People are so happy when someone
 comes in with a handful of lobster from their few traps. People share
 their boats, share their gas, share the responsibility of organizing a 
 carefully managed fishery, and share their lobster. Visitors, Native and
 non-native alike arrive. Doors are opened and food is prepared in great quantity.
 
 How I wish the millions of Canadians that have seen the government vessels
 sink Native boats last week could also meet the people in those boats.
 Whenever someone is introduced here you learn who their cousins are, who
 their parents are, who their children are. There is such a sense of
 community, of family really, and I am learning so much being here.
 
 I go to court tomorrow (Thursday, Sept. 7), having been charged along with
 a Catholic priest with obstructing a fisheries officer. We had tried to 
 retrieve some traps that had been taken by DFO officers from a Mi'kmaq
 fisher. It was all we could do really, when we saw those traps being
 taken away. In front of our eyes the next step in this long history of
 oppression was taking place - we felt compelled to act in a way that said 
 clearly that this was not being done in our names. We will not be alone
 though, as eight Mi'kmaq people face charges related to the fishery as well.
 
 It is late in the evening and quiet now, though a plane passed over
 several times a few minutes ago. There is fear that the government may come
 tonight  to take more traps. The number of RCMP vehicles at the road entrances of
 the reserve has again risen today. Yesterday a group of non-natives came 
 into the waters here in a threatening way. All is not well.
 
 I will go to bed shortly, not knowing if I will get a full night's sleep
 or only an hour. And I will go to sleep praying, first in thanksgiving that 
 no-one was killed today and second in petition that no one will be killed
 tomorrow.