Almost the Same but Not White

The original intention of Residential Schools was to assimilate Aboriginal peoples; their languages, cultures, and lifestyles were to be made to resemble those of Euro-Canadians. The Canadian government wanted to effectively “kill the Indian in the child,” a statement that makes clear the violence inherent in their attempts to integrate indigenous peoples into their version of society. It is doubtful, however, that these attempts at assimilation were ever truly intended to elevate First Nations Canadians to a position equivalent to that of Euro-Canadians. As Homi Bhabha explains in Of Mimicry and Man: The Ambivalence of Colonial Discourse,

Colonial mimicry is the desire for a reformed, recognizable Other, as a subject of a difference that is almost the same, but not quite (Bhabha 3)

Indigenous cultures were, and often still are, seen as posing a threat to the dominant North American culture. The Residential Schools were designed to make them blend in more easily, but the logic inherent to such a system would never allow for them to be the same. Even current discussions like those of the National Post that consistently refer to Canada’s First Nations peoples as pre-historic and Palaeolithic betray the underlying and implicit assumption that they will always be backwards. After all, how could they ever be expected to catch up if they are already centuries behind? If Western discourses on progress and civilization are to be believed, a group who starts so far back on an upward moving timeline can have little hope of being equal to those who are allegedly reaching the pinnacle. Lucius Outlaw discusses this in his essay Toward a Critical Theory of Race, in which he highlights some of the issues associated with assimilation. Outlaw writes “the socially devisive effects of ‘ethnic’ differences were to disappear in the social-cultural ‘melting pot’ through assimilation, or, according to the pluralists, ethnic identity would be maintained across time but would be mediated by principles of the body politic” (Outlaw 61).

Because the construct of race is already so heavily ingrained in different facets of society, and understandings of race are largely hinged upon visible differences, even the most successful attempts at mimicry could never eliminate the stigma associated with indigeneity. As Outlaw explains, “the state is inherently racial, every state institution is a racial institution, and the entire social order is equilibrated (unstably) by the state to preserve the prevailing social order” (Outlaw 80-1). The Residential Schools legacy, as well as the articles from the National Post, assert that Western knowledge is superior to indigenous knowledge, and thereby place Native Canadians lower down on an ‘evolutionary’ scale.

Robson betrays this prevailing belief in the good of assimilation when he quotes Thomas Sowell, who disparages “prevailing doctrines about ‘celebrating’ and preserving cultural differences,” asserting that “cultures are not museum pieces” (Robson 8). Conrad Black, on the other hand, flat out states that “[Europeans] have made vastly more of this continent than its original inhabitants could have done” (Black 11). It would seem that, if they could just adhere to European ideals and beliefs, the indigenous peoples could become one with the dominant Canadian culture and thrive “on the basis of demonstrated achievement” (Outlaw 61). This ability to demonstrate progress, that is typically measured by Euro-Americans in terms of economic development and scientific rationality, has been frequently used to differentiate between the ‘civilized’ and the ‘uncivilized’. All of this ignores, however, the previously mentioned issue of visible difference. If racism was not so heavily institutionalized this argument could have more weight. But, as Bhabha states, the colonizer, in attempting to create a likeness of themselves but still maintain that slippery difference, will focus on the obvious signs of mimicry. The colonized will continue to be “Almost the same but not white” (Bhabha 12).This ultimately provides evidence of the power of the discourses discussed in previous posts on this blog. These ways of understanding the world, for which the National Post and the Residential Schools have both served as relays, equate civilization with progress. They measure progress in terms of the value of a group’s knowledge and therefore their access to truth, meaning that civilization can only be granted to othered groups who manage to adhere to ‘western’ ways. As Bhabha has already noted, however, their inability to ever become truly the same (and the underlying desire of a colonizer to maintain that slippery difference between the ‘other’ and themselves) reinforces the dominant group’s use of race as a proxy for civilization.

Despite its inability to create an equal relationship between the ‘colonizer’ and ‘colonized’, mimicry does have the ability to be subverted. The group that has been subordinated has the power to turn mimicry into mockery, and to effectively gaze back at their colonizers. One of the ways in which this subversive power can be exercised is through literature, like Sherman Alexie’s poem How to Write the Great American Indian Novel. In it, Alexie is able to critique the history of fictitious representations of indigenous identity in literature. He mocks a series of literary tropes that consistently reinforce a narrative where the Native people must disappear in order to make room for the white people. In doing so, especially as he presents it in the form of a rulebook, Alexie sends up the literature that has been an instrument of domination for Empire, explaining that when this great American Indian novel is written, “all of the white people will be Indians and all of the Indians will be ghosts” (Alexie 40).

The Benevolent White Man and the Disappearing Indian

A trope that has been extremely common and extremely damaging in popular culture is that of the noble savage; the brave but outdated ‘Indian’ who must make way for the modern and enterprising European. This has been discussed quite extensively by many critics, including Dr. Humphreys in class, especially as it relates to the popular novel The Last of the Mohicans. Such narratives are part of a larger discourse that places indigenous cultures and their identities in the past, refusing Native Canadians access to the modern world unless they conform to Eurocentric ideals. The consensus often is that if they refuse to give up their culture, they may keep their identity but must sacrifice their place in society.

This sentiment can be captured, in a sense, by a quote from George Jonas’ article, which reads, “A First Nation may exist in separation from Canada on the map, but it’s harder for it to exist in separation from the 21^st century. Even if it were possible, it may not be enough” (Jonas 12). Such beliefs about the diverse First Nations peoples of Canada are not based in fact, but rather reproduce outdated yet persistent stereotypes that are created and perpetuated by non-Native Canadians. As Terry Goldie explains,

History awarded semiotic control to the invaders. Since then the image of native peoples has functioned as a constant source of semiotic reproduction, in which each textual image refers to those offered before (Goldie 111)

The real and damaging impact of this discourse is that it presents one cultural option as superior to all others while simultaneously misrepresenting entire swaths of people. Aboriginal people are then measured against their stereotypes, and Euro-Canadians reserve the power to judge how well they fit within the small boxes reserved for them. What results is a great discord between sign and signifier; a false dichotomy of Western and Other, in this case particularly ‘Western’ and ‘Native’, that cannot accept the existence of those who try to straddle the lines created without their consent. Thomas King (who I will quote quite frequently in this post) describes the reaction to such people when he writes, “we are suspicious of complexities, distrustful of contradictions, fearful of enigmas” (King 25).

“You wear the costume for one night, I wear the stigma for life”

King discusses some of the impacts of Western definitions of Indigenous identity in The Truth About Stories, describing how he and others “dressed up as the ‘Indian’ dressed… dressed up in a manner to substantiate the cultural lie that had trapped [them]” (King 45). The recognition that race is a construct and has no real basis in biology or science does not detract from the real effects that are felt by racialized peoples. External representations can often limit entire groups of people, while simultaneously excluding other members of those groups from an identity that it is not believed they are fit to claim. Definitions of Canadian indigeneity become extremely narrow, fixed on a single iteration that is drawn from a one-sided account of a complex history. King once again captures the essence of the problem when he states that,

Native culture, as with any culture, is a vibrant, changing thing… But the idea of ‘the Indian’ was already fixed in time and space” (King 37)

In opposition to the noble savage stands the trope of the benevolent white man, sometimes misguided in practice but usually sound in principle. Jonas once again provides evidence of this in his article when he adamantly refuses any labelling of the Residential Schools program as genocidal, even in a cultural sense. He claims that “You don’t commit genocide to assist people. You don’t commit genocide out of concern for their survival or salvation. You don’t commit genocide out of the goodness of your heart. You may do many terrible things, but not genocide” (Jonas 9). The underlying assumption here is that Western culture is preferable, and forcing it upon others, as long as no violence or abuse is involved, is a genuine act of goodwill.

Conrad Black echoes such sentiments in a different sense when he argues that, “the Harper government… did its best in agreeing a $2 billion education catch-up program for the native people” and that “Despite everything, even the First Nations should be grateful that the Europeans came here” (Black 12-13). Once again, there is no acknowledgement of the genuine harms of the destruction of culture; the only real admission of guilt or wrong-doing is in regards to the actions taken in the name of assimilation. Money and federal apologies are presented as appropriate atonement for the crimes committed, while any lingering criticisms about the impacts of the Residential Schools are often described as being a product of the “Indian Industry,” whose members’ “positions, status and livelihoods would be adversely affected if indigenous people ever achieved the same life-chance outcomes as other Canadians” (Rubenstein & Clifton 3). This ‘Indian Industry’ consists largely of those involved in the writing of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s report, as well as academics involved in the study of the history behind Residential Schools and the victims and families themselves.

Such discussions about reconciliation present a singular perspective on how it must happen. They ignore the possibility that these events may not be reconcilable to many people, and expect that money and apologies should be enough to erase the events from public memory, perhaps in an attempt to continue the process of assimilation. Keavy Martin captures some of the problems with this approach in her essay “Truth, Reconciliation, and Amnesia: Porcupines and China Dolls and the Canadian Conscience,” where she explains that,

While healing and reconciliation are certainly desirable occurrences, I will argue that these concepts can also entail a fixation upon resolution that is not only premature but problematic in its correlation with forgetting. The danger is that the discourse of reconciliation—though rhetorically persuasive—can at times be less about the well-being of Aboriginal peoples and communities than about freeing non-Native Canadians and their government from the guilt and continued responsibility of knowing their history (Martin 49)

One of the best steps forward then is that which the CBC has already begun to embark on, in letting people from marginalized cultures dictate their own representation and present their own narratives. By allowing voices that have all too often been silenced to be heard we can begin to tear down the stereotypes that limit Aboriginal Canadians. Equal representation may not provide closure, but it can help to eliminate the pervasiveness of offensive stereotypes and tropes in future.

Knowledge, Science, and Silence

As Waziyatawin Angela Wilson explains in American Indian Quarterly, “the process of colonization required the complete subjugation of [indigenous people’s] minds and spirits so that [their] lands and resources could be robbed from underneath [their] bodies” (Wilson 360). One of the most powerful tools that can be used by a colonizer, and that was used by the Canadian government in the Residential Schools program, is the complete devaluation of a group of people’s knowledge and language. This second part is especially effective in terms of many indigenous cultures, as their oral tradition demands the preservation of their language for the survival of their culture. The National Post articles, like the Residential Schools, are relays of this discourse surrounding knowledge that presents indigenous contributions as inferior and outdated.

Perhaps the best example of this comes from Robson’s article. In it, Robson argues against the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s recommendation that calls for the creation of aboriginal language degrees at post-secondary institutions, claiming that,

Today, a language spoken by a few hundred people is a road to nowhere and a PhD in it like an arrow with a touch screen (Robson 15).

The language chosen here presents a clear juxtaposition of the arrow and the touch screen; an arrow, like the languages of indigenous peoples, is nearly obsolete in modern Western societies, whereas a touch screen is a marker of progress, technology, and the great advancements made by science. They are shown here to be incongruent, and the implication is that one must fade into obscurity. The strong ties between empiricism, science, technology, and Western societies have been identified in earlier posts, but the importance is made even more clear in this context, as such existing discourses are then put to use in arguing against the value of indigenous language, and therefore much of their existing intellectual and literary traditions.

As a result of this narrative, the horrors of the Residential Schools are partially justified by virtue of their attempting to help aboriginal children. As Robson asks earlier in his article, “Yet would any aboriginal activist want young people to be denied the alphabet because ‘the ancestors’ got it from the white man?” (Robson 9). This quote simultaneously ignores existing indigenous traditions of information sharing and reinforces the apparent importance of written language that Western cultures privilege. As Joanne R. DiNova explains, there is an “unstated conclusion that, since Native people have had a written culture for a relatively short period of time, the literature must therefore be primitive, further back on some evolutionary scale” (DiNova 3).

After all, how could anyone know anything if they don’t write it down first?

All of this serves to exclude the knowledge and voices of aboriginal Canadians from official, national dialogues. They do not have a claim to science, their language is dying, and this ultimately puts them in a subordinate relationship to Euro-Canadians. Tying into the discussions of progress, rationality, and truth in prior posts on this blog, the valuation of apparent indigenous methods of knowledge gathering compared to Western methods is captured in this quote from Rubenstein and Clifton, in which they state that “by contemporary Western juridical and objective social science standards, however, the report is badly flawed, notably in its indifference to robust evidence gathering, comparative or contextual data, and cause-effect relationships” (Rubenstein & Clifton 7).

Essentially, such statements claim that because others do not play by our rules, they cannot be trusted or listened to with the same respect that you would listen to, for example, a lawyer in a court room. Measuring the contributions of others purely by Western standards is not likely to ever produce a favourable or just assessment, a fact that DiNova illustrates in the introduction of her book when she discusses Western judgments of indigenous literature. She explains that a fundamental connectedness that could be seen in Medieval literature is viewed as primitive by Western culture, and so that same quality provokes the same appraisal when it is identified in aboriginal literature. The problem with such an approach to cross-cultural intellectual interactions is highlighted when she explains that,

Not only is such an approach ‘ethno-critically’ inappropriate, it also misses the full significance of movements in indigenous literature, which have scarcely been revealed (DiNova 14).

To conclude this post, I’d like to recommend that everyone watch this Ted Talk by Wade Davis, which might make you feel a little less pessimistic about the treatment and future of indigenous groups in Canada. At around the 3 minute mark, Davis states that there is no progression of affairs in human experience and that there’s no pyramid that conveniently places Victorian England at the apex and descends down the flanks to the so-called primitives of the world. The video discusses the various forms of indigenous knowledge that are not valued in the same way as ‘western’ scientific and technological advances, such as the naming of the stars in the night sky and their importance in terms of navigation for indigenous Hawaiians. He expands the definitions of science and empiricism to include things like the 2,500 years of Buddhist observations on the nature of the mind. Ultimately this does not attempt to lower the value of Western knowledge, but raise the representation and valuation of other forms of knowledge so that all may be seen as as simply cultural options, eliminating the need for hierarchies or judgments.

The Disputed and Controversial Truth of Reconciliation

One of the most important goals of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission is to make the truth of the Residential Schools and their impact on not only the survivors, but also their families and communities apparent to all Canadians. The belief was, and still largely is, that the sharing of personal experiences will bring a degree of healing to the victims, while also creating the circumstances necessary for reconciliation to occur between the victims of the schools and the Canadian government and people. As expressed in the video posted below from the TRC’s website, the sharing of such stories often required a great deal of bravery, and provoked emotional responses from both the individuals themselves, and the audiences they reached out to.

The acceptance of their stories and experiences that is crucial to any attempts to reconcile has been a sore point for quite a few people, however. The concept of truth often differs subtly between groups and individuals, but due to the rise of empiricism it is associated heavily with scientific inquiry in Western culture. Rationality is believed to be fundamental to the pursuit of truth which necessitates a dispassionate, unemotional approach to experiences of the world. Emotion, associated with femininity and Eastern cultures, is devalued and seen as a sign of irrationality; an emotional individual cannot access the same truth that a detached individual can.

This tie between irrationality, femininity, and the East is part of the discourse of Orientalism that serves to simultaneously romanticize and other non-Western communities. It creates a false dichotomy between the two, with terms like “uncivilized,” “savage,” and “undeveloped” falling to the side of the East, while “superior,” “civilized,” “strong,” and “masculine,” become signs of the West (Cheng 2).

Because of this, indigenous cultures and their alternative methods of inquiry are not commonly accepted as having the same truth value as their Western counterparts. The sharing and spreading of ideas and knowledge orally that has been a tradition for various indigenous cultures for centuries is believed to be incompatible with science (Storytelling Overview 1). This oral tradition is not always appreciated or accepted outside of these communities, as the experiences and feelings of individuals do not meet Western standards of truth. Oral traditions are believed to be unfixed and non-permanent, and are therefore viewed as suspect. Western science relies on the ability to replicate an experiment, and writing offers a fixed quality to communication that establishes and maintains authenticity. As Waziyatawin Angela Wilson discusses in an article for American Indian Quarterly, “powerful institutions of colonization.. have routinely dismissed alternative knowledges and ways of being as irrelevant to the modern world” (Wilson 359). Rubenstein and Clifton discuss this in their article for the National Post, in which they write:

From an aboriginal story-telling perspective, the report is truly heartbreaking; from a traditional dispassionate social science perspective, it is bad research (11).

The language used in this piece clearly implies a sharp divide between the apparently incompatible cultures. Canada’s aboriginal peoples tell stories, which are associated with falsity, fantasy, and children in Western cultures. Euro-Canadians, on the other hand, look at things objectively; scientific empiricism is once again presented as the sole method for discerning truth. John Robson outright claims that the “larger history behind the report.. is false” and states that “without truth no reconciliation can happen” (Robson 4).  He goes on to explain that the writers of the report attempt to claim aboriginals lived in Eden before the white serpent showed up, using a Christian analogy to paint the victims and their advocates as irrational and false (Robson 5).

One of the main arguments levelled against the veracity of the report is that it is not based on evidence, but reflects a culture of victimhood. George Jonas makes the claim that the report replaces old falsehoods with contemporary ones, and that it does not lead to truth but makes “some people feel virtuous, and that soothes troubled souls” (Jonas 3). This reiteration of the emotion that is inherent in such a report is used to throw doubt upon the claims made, reinforcing the notion that a dispassionate approach is necessary for an honest and reliable conclusion. Ultimately, the dominant Western discourse surrounding truth contributes to the practice of othering, which is at the heart of differentiating between civilizations. The rhetoric used in these articles, like the rhetoric applied by the founders of the Residential School Program, attempts to justify assimilation of others by privileging Western ideals. These arguments are part of a larger discourse that presents a false binary between the West and the other, and ultimately intends to eliminate that which it believes cannot be assimilated.

Civilization and Indigenous Identity

Modern understandings of civilization are often hinged upon the concept of progress. Discussions surrounding progress seem to be especially prominent in Western cultures, wherein the term carries with it a wide variety of connotations that can often have a negative, oppressive effect. Comparing our present condition to that of the past provides a satisfying sense of improvement that helps to constitute our belief in the superiority of modern times, specifically as they relate to a technologically advanced, individualistic, and profit-driven society. As Judy Wajcman explains in TechnoFeminism, “our icons of progress are drawn from science, technology and medicine; we revere that which is defined as ‘rational’, as distinct from that which is judged ’emotional'” (Wajcman 2).

the human evolutionary path?

While there is nothing inherently wrong with technological innovation or introspection about the past, problems arise when discourses about civilization and progress contribute to a prejudice against ‘alternative’ ways of living. Progress is often narrowly defined and associated with specific traits that are found most often (at least by many cultural critics in North America) in Western cultures. Because of the power of discourse to circulate through people and structure their understanding of meaning and the world, discussions about and representations of progress often feature the belief that certain groups must inevitably fall behind (Humphreys 1). In some cases, immediate associations are made to the elderly who struggle to adapt to new technologies, but often indigenous cultures are also accused of being trapped in the past. This way of understanding civilization and progress was especially common at the time of the conception of the Residential Schools in Canada, when the government attempted to divorce First Nations children from the communities and cultures in which they lived by forcibly removing them. The children often suffered from abuse, and it has been estimated that they had a 1 in 25 chance of dying while in the schools, worse than soldiers sent to the western front in World War II.

In the National Post’s 2015 coverage of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, many of these views about indigenous cultures and their development are articulated by a variety of columnists. The language employed in one can be seen mirrored in several others, all betraying an underlying belief that Western cultures are further along the evolutionary path than their indigenous counterparts. The power is then assigned to those of a (visibly) non-indigenous identity. The authors of the articles describe indigenous cultures as paleolithic and reminiscent of the Stone Age, as evidenced by a quote from an article by George Jonas, in which the author stated that:

The indigenous population lived in the hunting-gathering upper Paleolithic or Mesolithic period of mankind, harsh but idyllic at the same time, while the European arrivals, rooted in the agricultural late Neolithic, weren’t only past antiquity and the Middle Ages by the time they landed on North America’s shores, but had reached the early edges of the industrial age (Jonas 11).

In an article by Conrad Black, First Nations people are said to have had a “Stone Age culture that had not invented the wheel,” and to have been “nomads, clothed in hides and skins, living in tents” (Black 2). John Robson similarly depicts the first interactions between indigenous peoples and Europeans as a “collision between Stone Age and Renaissance cultures” (Robson 6). The implication is that their culture was behind and lacking, and the simplification and minimization of various aspects of their culture (read: labelling their dwellings as tents) serves to further infantilize indigenous societies. The prominent discourse states that they are what we would be had we not found ‘enlightenment’. They are in effect dismissed as less evolved, and the arrival of Europeans in North America was ultimately to their benefit. As Jonas states in his article, it was “history encountering pre-history” (Jonas 11).

Discourse, however, is not limited to language; it encompasses a wide variety of mediums through which various narratives, beliefs, and ideas are circulated (Humphreys 2). We are all relays for the discourses in which we are immersed, and discourses ultimately help to control us through networks and structures of power. In the words of Mieke Bal:

A discourse provides a basis for intersubjectivity and understanding. It entails epistemological attitudes. It also includes unexamined assumptions about meaning and about the world (Bal 7).

Although the National Post’s articles display the power of language in particular, they are part of a larger discourse that consistently devalues and attempts to eliminate non-dominant cultures. The discourse of civilization is narrativized through the media, through our educational institutions, and even through our own discussions and actions. It posits a view of human development that places Western societies at the pinnacle, measuring other cultures against them, and almost invariably finding them lacking. These articles ultimately reinforce notions of Canada’s First Nations peoples as being an unfortunate remnant from the past: groups that appear to be like us, but in fact are a thousand years behind in terms of development. The Residential Schools were, and still are, justified on account of their being intended to help these people, to bring them out from the darkness and into the light of our modern world. Indigenous people are antiquated and outdated, and assimilating them is essentially doing them a favour for without it there is no hope of progress.