What a month! Stockwell Day of the Canadian Alliance and Matthew Coon Come of the Quebec Cree both elected leaders after stunning upsets over their predecessors. Democracy, thy name is fickle. Pretty soon, Mr. Day, still smelling of Alberta cattle, and Mr. Coon Come, smelling of Quebec tamarack, will be moving to Ottawa to begin governing their individual fiefdoms. The chief is dead -- long live the chief. Maybe the two of them can car-pool or something. Now that would make for some pretty interesting travel conversations.
Now, admittedly, I'm not exactly up on my right-wing, religious, white people -- which is a shame considering we should know better after the past 500 years. So I'm a little vague on what Mr. Day could mean to your average brown-skinned, indigenous inhabitant. But I am aware that the original Alliance, the Reform Party, was not too aboriginal-friendly in many of its policies. As the old saying goes, however, never judge a bannock before it's fried.
I do have a few friends at the head office of the Assembly of First Nations in Ottawa, and the main topic of conversation is whether they'll have a job next month. And that's one of the things I find so admirable in that organization -- the sense of tradition they freely practise.
I'm talking about the age-old practice that begins when a new reserve chief is elected, deposing another. You can practically set your watch by the exodus of the past chief's entourage (friends, family, girlfriends) working in the band office. And the flood of new friends, family and girlfriends as they pour into the administration office to claim their cubicles. So I guess all of Phil Fontaine's people will be snapping up most of those juicy heavy-equipment-operator and bingo-caller jobs.
Typically, in most communities, I've heard that a quarter of the yearly budget will be spent on ordering new business cards, letterheads and name plates for doors and desks, and stocking up on that Swiss mocha coffee the new chief is so fond of.
Of course, I'm not sure whether Mr. Coon Come is a Swiss mocha fan or just an old-fashioned tea drinker from those days on the trapline with his father. I'm told it's hard to take an espresso machine into the bush.
So, with all these things happening in the wilds of distant Ottawa, I'm curious to find out what this means to the average Indian. Probably not much. Storms at the top of the mountain rarely can be felt in the valleys. And because, for so long, most decisions were made on our behalf by people we never saw or met.
So I think there is an unfortunate tendency among many grassroots aboriginals to shrug off politics on a grander scale. If it weren't for the fact that I occasionally find myself in political situations, working with political people and sometimes writing about such things, I would probably be thinking that Coon Come was a new breakfast cereal.
A vice-chief once criticized me for not spending more time writing about issues that were more pertinent to our people. "Like what?" I asked. "Like nationhood," he responded. That week, I think I was working on an article on native erotica. So I asked several friends: What would you read, an article on native erotica or one on aboriginal nationhood? I don't think I have to tell you the answer.
Years ago, during the Meech Lake and Charlottetown debacles, I would find myself being asked "What the hell is this all about?" whenever I returned to my reserve. For some reason, it was assumed that I was "in the know." Fortunately, I would have some vague idea of what was going on and could give a 20-second synopsis as seen through the eyes of someone who had just heard that the Vietnam War was over. Next on my agenda is to find out who won it. My money is on the Koreans.
So, Mr. Coon Come, enjoy your new life as the voice of the people. I'm sure you will do wonders for us. The buzz around the aboriginal water cooler is very favourable. Besides, you look good in a suit.
Maybe the next time I'm in town, we can do lunch. Of course, the cheque will be on you because I heard a rumour that you're called the Grand Chief because that's your weekly take-home pay. That will buy an awful lot of Swiss mocha. And if you get the chance, buy Stockwell Day a coffee. Be nice to him. He, too, is new in town. Drew Hayden Taylor is an Ojibwa writer and humorist.