The Ontario government is putting the finishing touches on a deal to cede a huge swath of eastern Ontario to the Algonquin First Nation.
The deal, which is 21 years in the making and involves a process almost as complex as the contract itself, includes a cash payout of $300 million to settle a long-standing land claim along with the transfer of 47,000 hectares of Crown land consisting of more than 200 parcels ranging in size from a few hectares to 12,000 hectares.
Not everyone is happy, however, because this has been government-to-government negotiation and other stakeholders say the parties didn’t consult them until recently.
Have a look at a map of Ontario and then draw a line south from just above North Bay, Ont., down to just north of Kingston and imagine pretty much everything east of that to the Quebec border. That’s the swath of land under consideration, including the city of Ottawa.
The deal will affect more than 30 municipalities and counties with fishing, harvesting, hunting, and forestry rights signed over to the 8,000 or so Algonquin.
It was Premier Kathleen Wynne herself in her previous role in the Liberal cabinet as minister of aboriginal affairs who put the last touches on a deal she insists won’t create new reserves or affect the rights of private property owners or city affairs in Ottawa. Roads, utility rights of way, titles, and resource rights now in existence would remain unaffected.
And the $300 million would include money already advanced to the Algonquin for existing projects and renewable energy developments and is payable in three instalments over two years.
What’s not clear to those most affected, however, is what happens going forward.
While the government has been negotiating with the Algonquin for 21 years to settle land claims going back to the 18th century, cottagers, homeowners, businesses, resource developers, and others says they’ve been in the dark until recently about the real impact of this historic event.
In fact, Terry Rees, executive director of the Federation of Ontario Cottagers’ Associations, says the agreement-in-principle released last December was news to his organization.
Like other stakeholders, including the Ontario Federation of Anglers and Hunters, the cottagers’ association had been on an advisory committee. But there was little in the way of consultation or discussion, says Rees.
“We’re not opposed to the agreement; just the process leaves us wanting,” he says, adding that public meetings now taking place throughout cottage country are attracting crowds of up to 1,500 people bewildered that a deal decades in the making appears to be imminent with no time for objection or input.
Rees concedes that 8,000 Algonquin on 47,000 hectares of former Crown land may not have the impact some fear. Nothing may happen or only some usage of some lands may change. The point is, he says, no one really understands or knows because of the far-reaching ripple effect of what’s a constitutional and wholesale change.
These are no new reserves. These are titled lands that can presumably involve any permitted use and cottagers, along with 1.4 million anglers, hunters, businesses, and residents, want to know what that’s going to look like, says Rees. Will there be more commercial traffic that will disrupt the treasured ambience of those lands?
Of the 50,000 people Rees’ association represents, the deal affects about 15,000 who own about 2,000 kilometres of shoreline and almost 7,000 hectares of land worth about $10 billion.
In the meantime, the legislature, Ottawa, and the Algonquin must still ratify the agreement in principle. In fact, it could take five years to get to a final agreement, which, coming on top of the two decades already invested, puts the matter in the realm of Charles Dickens’ Bleak House.
The plan is also for the province to fund an enrolment board to determine who is and isn’t an Algonquin and what family lineages apply.
For those whose livelihoods the agreement may affect, however, the overriding issue is the unknown.
Somehow, having the Ontario government tell people to trust it just isn’t carrying any weight. But that’s no surprise. In the meantime, meegwetch for reading this far. (That means thank you in Algonquin.)
Ian Harvey has been a journalist for 35 years writing about a diverse range of issues including legal and political affairs. His e-mail
address is [email protected].
The deal, which is 21 years in the making and involves a process almost as complex as the contract itself, includes a cash payout of $300 million to settle a long-standing land claim along with the transfer of 47,000 hectares of Crown land consisting of more than 200 parcels ranging in size from a few hectares to 12,000 hectares.Not everyone is happy, however, because this has been government-to-government negotiation and other stakeholders say the parties didn’t consult them until recently.
Have a look at a map of Ontario and then draw a line south from just above North Bay, Ont., down to just north of Kingston and imagine pretty much everything east of that to the Quebec border. That’s the swath of land under consideration, including the city of Ottawa.
The deal will affect more than 30 municipalities and counties with fishing, harvesting, hunting, and forestry rights signed over to the 8,000 or so Algonquin.
It was Premier Kathleen Wynne herself in her previous role in the Liberal cabinet as minister of aboriginal affairs who put the last touches on a deal she insists won’t create new reserves or affect the rights of private property owners or city affairs in Ottawa. Roads, utility rights of way, titles, and resource rights now in existence would remain unaffected.
And the $300 million would include money already advanced to the Algonquin for existing projects and renewable energy developments and is payable in three instalments over two years.
What’s not clear to those most affected, however, is what happens going forward.
While the government has been negotiating with the Algonquin for 21 years to settle land claims going back to the 18th century, cottagers, homeowners, businesses, resource developers, and others says they’ve been in the dark until recently about the real impact of this historic event.
In fact, Terry Rees, executive director of the Federation of Ontario Cottagers’ Associations, says the agreement-in-principle released last December was news to his organization.
Like other stakeholders, including the Ontario Federation of Anglers and Hunters, the cottagers’ association had been on an advisory committee. But there was little in the way of consultation or discussion, says Rees.
“We’re not opposed to the agreement; just the process leaves us wanting,” he says, adding that public meetings now taking place throughout cottage country are attracting crowds of up to 1,500 people bewildered that a deal decades in the making appears to be imminent with no time for objection or input.
Rees concedes that 8,000 Algonquin on 47,000 hectares of former Crown land may not have the impact some fear. Nothing may happen or only some usage of some lands may change. The point is, he says, no one really understands or knows because of the far-reaching ripple effect of what’s a constitutional and wholesale change.
These are no new reserves. These are titled lands that can presumably involve any permitted use and cottagers, along with 1.4 million anglers, hunters, businesses, and residents, want to know what that’s going to look like, says Rees. Will there be more commercial traffic that will disrupt the treasured ambience of those lands?
Of the 50,000 people Rees’ association represents, the deal affects about 15,000 who own about 2,000 kilometres of shoreline and almost 7,000 hectares of land worth about $10 billion.
In the meantime, the legislature, Ottawa, and the Algonquin must still ratify the agreement in principle. In fact, it could take five years to get to a final agreement, which, coming on top of the two decades already invested, puts the matter in the realm of Charles Dickens’ Bleak House.
The plan is also for the province to fund an enrolment board to determine who is and isn’t an Algonquin and what family lineages apply.
For those whose livelihoods the agreement may affect, however, the overriding issue is the unknown.
Somehow, having the Ontario government tell people to trust it just isn’t carrying any weight. But that’s no surprise. In the meantime, meegwetch for reading this far. (That means thank you in Algonquin.)
Ian Harvey has been a journalist for 35 years writing about a diverse range of issues including legal and political affairs. His e-mail
address is [email protected].
