Accord's death both mourned and cheered

Page 3

Ovide Mercredi looked mad. Shifting uncomfortably on his chair he stared into the live television camera and gave his stark assessment of the NO tidal wave that swept the Charlottetown accord away.

"We blew it," the embittered Assembly of First Nations chief told millions of Canadians tuned into live coverage of the referendum vote.

"We had a chance here to do something different; to respect each other on a different level. And we didn't do that. Instead we allowed our prejudices, our biases

to dominate."

Earlier that evening in another televised live press conference, an equally grim

Ron George, president of the Native Council of Canada, blasted the defeat of the Charlottetown constitutional accord.

"Our people are dying on the streets now, under the status quo," said George, whose organization represents an estimated 750,000 off-reserve Natives.

"I'd like to see those people who are celebrating the NO victory come and see what it's like to live on the streets. Come and live under the bridges with some of my people and see if they have something to cheer about."

Likewise, on the night of Oct. 26 national aboriginal leaders were in mourning as they watched the 18 months of hard negotiations and unprecedented constitutional gains slip away.

The constitutional deal on the inherent right has a troubled history, starting with Ottawa's reluctance to invite first nations to the bargaining table. But over months of ups and down - including several threats by different organizations to abandon the process - the negotiations survived.

Even when Alberta's treaty chiefs voted to reject the process, there was still optimism for the package, which would have set a framework for settling aboriginal concerns in Canada's fundamental law.

Fragmenting support for the package amongst the country's status Indian leaders only showed its true depths in the final days before the vote. Treaty chiefs refused to ratify the deal at national meetings in Vancouver, while influential leaders in Manitoba, like Elijah Harper, called on their followers to boycott the vote.

But support appeared strong in the Metis and off-reserve populations, who - without treaties - had the most to gain from entrenchment of a court-enforceable recognition of the inherent right.

And though leaders like Mercredi saw the NO vote as a repudiation of Native aspirations on referendum night, public support for self-government has been high throughout the tiring campaign. That support prompted other leaders to call for a salvage effort on the accord's Native component.

"I will go to the government and say, 'Look, you can't let the Charlottetown go to pot because there is such strong support for the self-government package from the Inuit

as well as other Canadians'," said Rosemary Kuptana, president of the Inuit Tapirisat of Canada."

Kuptana said the country should take a six-month or one-year breather and then ratify the self-government sections of the accord.

Metis National Council president Yvon Dumont expressed hope that their

political accord could be salvaged from the wreckage. The deal, which would have constitutionalized Metis government and land rights, is set out in a separate package.

"Not everything is lost," Dumont said as national leaders sifted through the constitutional rubble in the days after the vote. "I think that there are some areas where the provincial and federal government can move ahead."

A militant Mercredi, who suffered challenges to his leadership in the run-up to the vote and a ringing defeat from treaty nations at the polls, is calling for a direct assertion of Native rights and a program of civil disobedience.

"The only way we have made progress on our rights is through assertion of our rights," he said, calling on bands and tribal councils to enact their own laws in areas like child care and gaming, even if it leads to clashes with the provincial and federal governments.

"If people want to challenge the laws, well, let them challenge them We have arguments...The only way we are going to exercise self-government is to do it ourselves."

Mercredi is reported to be seriously considering invitations to join blockades in southern Manitoba and eastern Quebec. He said the people want direct action now that the negotiation process has failed.

The failure of the Charlottetown accord has also trained the spotlight on the Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples, which has been holding cross-country consultations for the last 18 months.

"Now that the deal is dead, the real role of the commission will show better," said Quebec judge Rene Dussault, who is co-chairing the inquiry with past assembly president Georges Erasmus.

"We hope we can make it possible to come back to the constitution on aboriginal issues....There was a lot of fear of the unknown. We can show it will work, clarify the concepts and give some models and solutions."

Meanwhile, provincial leaders ruled out the possibility of returning to constitutional negotiations, at least until the next election. Mercredi said he would not attempt a return to talks because no one would be at the table to bargain with.