WELCOME TO NUNAVIK, THE STONER'S PARADISE

At this early date, it's still too soon to say exactly when the
Kativik Regional Government's mishandling of its policing file
actually began. It's now clear that the KRG's incompetence on this
issue goes back several years, at the very least.

That being said, it's now obvious that the regional council blundered
badly on the evening of Sept. 14, when they voted to dump the
popular, tirelessly devoted, and under-appreciated chief of the
Kativik Regional Police Force, Brian Jones. The move sparked outrage
among most KRPF members and their union, and led to a chain of events
that has seen the people of Nunavik lose effective control of their
police force.

The KRG did this because, among other reasons, they don't like the
work that Jones did to combat the flow of illegal drugs and bootleg
liquor into Nunavik. This includes the KRPF's participation in the
Aboriginal Combined Forces Special Enforcement Unit, which last year,
in an operation that led to the arrest of 42 people, broke up a ring
that shipped between $125,000 and $250,000 worth of drugs into
Nunavik and Nunavut every week.

Because of that and other activities, the International Association
of Chiefs of Police presented the aboriginal combined force this week
with an award for "quality in law enforcement."

But all that means nothing to the KRG, who complained that the KRPF's
interdiction activities cost too much money and time. Given that
booze and dope are linked to nearly every life-threatening instance
of violent crime in the region, not to mention its appalling health
conditions, this is a bizarre motive. The simplest, and most likely
explanation, is that KRG councillors, egged on by incompetent
administrators, were just too ill-informed to figure it all out.

We'll have more to say about that below. But first, it's worth
recognizing what happened after Sept. 14., especially the chain of
events that led to the $300,000-a-week intervention by the Sirete du
Quebec, who moved 39 police officers into the region not long after
the police chief's departure.

They did this because it turned out that only six of the KRPF's 54
officers and special constables are legally sworn in, and have been
subjected to routine background checks.

And who is it that's responsible for doing the KRPF's human resources
work? It's the KRG, of course -- but that awkward fact still didn't
stop the KRG from trying to blame Brian Jones for their own incompetence.

This kind of administrative bungling raises serious questions about
whether Nunavik is ready to handle the responsibilities that will
likely come with the new regional government their leaders are now
negotiating with Quebec and Canada.

And the SQ's willingness to send so many members, so quickly, into
Nunavik suggests the provincial government has been watching the
situation closely for a long time and has no faith in the KRG's
ability to handle their self-inflicted fiasco.

But what's worse is the message that the KRG sent out to the region's
bootleggers and dope peddlers. And that message is this: welcome to
Nunavik, the stoner's paradise.

If you think that's an exaggeration, here are some numbers from the
2004 Qanuippitaa health survey:

60 per cent of Nunavik residents admit to using illegal drugs,
including cocaine, and injectable substances; about half of all
Nunavik residents over the age of 18 admit to binge drinking; 44 per
cent of pregnant women admit to drinking alcohol during their
pregnancies. Those numbers, of course, help to explain these ones:

20 per cent of Nunavik residents admit to being victims of serious
acts of violence, such as strangulation or knife attacks; 33 per cent
of residents say violence is a serious problem in their communities,
a number that gets bigger among older people; 36 to 67 per cent of
children in Nunavik, according to the recent commission of human
rights' review of youth protection services in the region, have been
sexually abused. These facts are all available within public
documents. They're not unique to Nunavik either -- the same social
evils thrive with equal if not greater vigor in Nunavut.

The members of Nunavik's "government," however, either don't know
this or know it and don't care.

Either way, they're not fit to govern. It's also well-known that many
prominent people, including elected officials, participate in the
illegal economy as consumers and suppliers. Some have suggested that
this is why the KRG opposes police action against drug dealers and
bootleggers. This may be unfair, but you can't blame people for
thinking it. It's estimated that the eastern Arctic's illegal drug
and booze economy is worth somewhere between $30 and $60 million a
year. That makes it a bigger economic development activity than
tourism or arts and crafts. Somebody is making a lot of money, and
not all of that money is leaving the North.

Others suggest that KRG bureaucrats don't like the bad publicity
about Nunavik that is generated by assertive policing, believing that
it gives the region a bad name. The KRG, however, has ensured that
this reputation is richly deserved. JB