I am compelled to write about the behemoth next door who has suddenly become noncompliant with the rules of the neighbourhood. The grandiose neighbourhood watchman has suddenly decided they will no longer protect us. Not without something in exchange.
So, let’s see. Ah, yes, your sovereignty will do just fine.
As I go about my day and in my travels across the land, I try to formulate a plan as to how I am going to write about this crisis we face here in Canada. As often happens to writers, I am at an impasse. Even though I know the subject well enough, I am still faced with writer’s block.
Then, as often transpires for me, nature steps in to assist me in my time of need. As I’m driving down a picturesque country road on a sunny late-winter day with snow dominating the landscape as far as the eye can see, from a lone tree in the corner of a farmer’s field comes my answer. In a large old maple tree just ahead of me, I spot three figures perched in the branches. As I slow my pace, I begin to decipher the scene before me.
In a large branch in the lower part of the majestic old maple sits a large hawk, looking stern and nonchalant at the same time. Above him, much higher in the branches, sit two large ravens. The ravens are clearly rattled at the hawk’s presence in their territory and they heckle the hawk incessantly, like two leather-lunged hockey fans screaming from the upper deck. They are so incensed and agitated by the hawk’s presence that they would probably boo its anthem if they could.
Instantly, I get the picture. I pull to the side of the narrow country road and I offer a tobacco pouch for what I have been given. I give my thanks and gratefully make my way home to begin this column.
Whenever we face what is seemingly a new crisis in our world, we will often turn to our cultural teachings to try to make some sense of what it is we’re up against. Human history is as cyclical as our journey around the giant glowing ball in the sky.
As sure as the day is long, we do find we humans do tend to be creatures of habit. We repeat old patterns — we will even walk pathways long forgotten, without a hint of remembrance for what took place there.
The Anishinaabek (Ah-nish-ih-naw-beck), Ojibwe people, are no different. And today, as I am given the scene of the hawk (U.S.A./Trump) and the two ravens (Canada and the First Nations), I am once again humbled as I marvel about how much we are given in life, often with the clues dangling before us like fruit for the taking.
As we feel the fiery breath of the monster below us, we all must turn to our teachings for answers.
Long ago, just after the first Anishinaabe was lowered to the earth, the Anishinaabek were amassed along the eastern seaboard of what became Canada and the United States. We were alerted by our prophets to heed the words and teachings of the Seven Grandfathers. In those teachings, it was prophesied we would encounter a great wave coming onto our land. The incursion would change our lives forever and the Anishinaabek were to migrate westward to preserve themselves. Thus began our great migration across Turtle Island and into the Great Lakes region.
Not everyone agreed to leave, and some stayed behind. They placed no belief in the teachings of the Seven Grandfathers. They became the first victims of the great incursion by Europeans onto our land.
Now, this is where this story could devolve into the colonization of First Nations and the irony of how Canada is facing an incursion from a former ally who would choose to disregard any and all agreements they had with them. While all of that is true and not at all dissimilar, it doesn’t help the situation right now.
We are in a crisis — together.
The sovereignty of Canada and the sovereignty of First Nations are being threatened. Like the two ravens, we need to unite and protect what we have. Our ancestors moved to protect what we had prior to and during the War of 1812 when the U.S.A. threatened to annex our territory for the first time.
Like our grandfathers and grandmothers before us, our local First Nations chiefs and councils should now be mounting a response and encouraging the Chiefs of Ontario and the Assembly of First Nations to hold an emergency session. Our sovereignty is at stake.
Canada should be including the national chief of the Assembly of First Nations in its first ministers sessions. Each province should liaise with First Nations to arrange a proper response to the threat if needed.
No one is sure where all of this posturing from the U.S.A.’s seemingly unstable leader will leave us. But we’d be better served if we were to be like the ravens in the scene I was sent to view, and at least prepare a response. Simply booing the American national anthem may not be enough to deter these hawks.
Jeff Monague is a former chief of Beausoleil First Nation on Christian Island, former treaty research director with the Anishnabek (Union of Ontario Indians), and veteran of the Canadian Forces. Monague, who taught the Ojibwe language with the Simcoe County District School Board and Georgian College, is currently the manager of Springwater Provincial Park.