~ 51 ~

Sunday, March 1st Iqaluit, Nunavut

Flying north, as he listened to the jet engines purr, Ted thought about Wilma. After his return from England, they all had met to discuss the outcome of his trip and what the next steps may be. Wilma had been unusually quiet. When asked why, she just shrugged and said, "It’s hard to watch Canada fly apart. If it has to happen, why can’t the rest all just go together? It would be more honourable." Her words had startled them, but the more Ted thought about it, he felt there may be a way. After discussing it with the others, they agreed he should try.

The meeting with the Prime Minister had been difficult, these were not easy times. The PM was not overly confident that Ted would be able to make this happen, it hinged on so many pieces, but he had no objections; Canada would be no worse off from the attempt.

Later, Ted had been able to lift his spirits a bit. After hearing of the idea for the island nation, and the Queen’s approval of the idea, the Prime Minister of Canada agreed with it. "It would be a living history, at the least," he’d said. "And, at the most, it would perhaps be a continuation of the best of what Canada was." He had expressed concerns for the residents of the island, "Would they want to do this? What if they wanted to become U.S. citizens?" Ted had assured him those concerns would be addressed, and that the whole plan was not yet complete; it would still require the agreement of the U.S. President. The PM laughed and told him, "Mr. Underwood, if you can obtain that, maybe you can give me my controlled landing."

Ted looked out the cabin window and saw the vast white landscape, horizon to horizon. As the plane came closer to the airport at Iqaluit, he began to feel overwhelmed by the stark beauty and majesty of this land. It may be the newest Territory of Canada, but it was where the Inuit had lived and developed their culture for tens of thousand of years.

He had called ahead and made arrangements to meet with the Commissioner of the Territory, Roy Qamutik. As the plane taxied closer to the air terminal, Ted wondered if what he was bringing to the table would be enough for Commissioner Qamutik and the Legislative Assembly to base decisions on. He was unsure of himself – in this Arctic land, so very different from everything to the south.

At the terminal, he was met by a legislative assistant who greeted him and suggested Ted accompany her in the car; she would be his guide.

As they approached the Legislature Building, Ted was impressed with the beauty of its architecture. She told him the massive building was designed without a foundation so it could shift on the permafrost ground and withstand the winds and snow throughout their seasons. As they entered the large lobby, she explained the building served two functions. It was the seat of government, containing the Legislative Assembly Hall and the offices of government – and, more importantly, it was the centre to showcase the ancient ancestry of Nunavut people and customs. It was the home of the official Nunavut Art Collection, a magnificent presentation of Inuit art, history and culture.

As Ted slowed to look, he faintly heard something he had never before experienced. Smiling, his guide agreed to show him. She led Ted down a narrow corridor that opened up into the back of a small empty auditorium. Two elderly Inuit women, dressed in traditional hooded furs, were on the stage, facing each other, nose to nose. The ancient guttural sounds that came from them were a dance, intermingling. First one, then the other. Separate voices, but woven. Ted watched in silent amazement for a few minutes, then quietly backed out. Walking down the corridor towards the offices, the guide said, "Throat singing. They’re practising for the big show here tonight."

She led Ted to the Commissioner’s office where Roy Qamutik was waiting to greet him. "Hello, hello, please come in." The Commissioner thanked the guide and he and Ted entered his office. "Would you like some coffee, Mr. Underwood?"

"Coffee would be great, and please, call me Ted."

As they sat down, Ted got right to the point. He told the Commissioner the reason he was there was to try and find out what Nunavut would do in the event that the government in Ottawa, and the nation of Canada, no longer existed.

Roy listened, and then spoke: "We have been watching events unfold with a great deal of interest and intensity. We also know that, no matter what happens, we will survive quite nicely. We may have to change our focus a bit, but we will survive – and here is why."

"Nunavut is just under 2 million square kilometres, that’s about a fifth the size of what Canada used to be; we stretch across four time zones. We have over 40 Inuit words for snow. If I’m not mistaken, that’s more than you have for describing grass." They both laughed, Roy continued.

"The 25,000 people that live across Nunavut earn their livelihood two ways. By subsistence – hunting, fishing, providing food and shelter for their families. Over 40% of our people do that. The rest participate in a wage economy, primarily government jobs, mining and construction. And," he said proudly, "we have a thriving arts and crafts industry that brings in about $30 million a year. Our tourist industry has just begun – and it has doubled each year for the last five years."

"So, as you can imagine, Ted, we don’t doubt our survival. What we might loose in government and construction industry dollars – we will make up for in mining, tourism, and in our artists and crafts people."

Ted thought for a few minutes, then asked: "Is there anything you would like to see happen, something you feel you can’t make happen? I mean, is there anything that perhaps Ottawa could request on your behalf – if and when things evolve?"

Roy understood the question and wondered if Ted had that kind of power. No harm in putting it out there, he decided. Roy looked at him and said, "Yes. Here is what we want to insure for all our people. We wish for our boundaries to remain as they are established. We wish for the Nunavut Land Claims Agreement and the Nunavut Act to remain intact. Our Legislative Assembly makes decisions for our people using a simple majority vote in the Legislature, and we want it to stay that way." Roy leaned back "Basically, Ted, we want to keep things as they are, just with a different national flag on the pole. That’s about it."

Ted exhaled and looked across at him. "Commissioner, with as much confidence that I can give you here today, from those who direct me in these negotiations, your request for your people will be upheld."

"What will be expected in return?" he knew there had to be a catch.

"Only to let the Prime Minister arrange the timing with Washington. The details will be to your satisfaction; but the schedule will be his."

"We can agree fully to that." He could barely believe this turn of events. Nunavut would indeed survive.

Roy walked out of the offices with him to where the legislative assistant waited. ‘What a pleasant man,’ the Commissioner thought as he left Ted in capable hands. He returned to his office, but before closing the door, he heard Ted ask her if it would be possible to make the last flight of the day to Yellowknife. Roy smiled, knowing that Ted would be an overnight guest, sat down behind his desk and reached for the phone.