By Maria Cheng
CAMBRIDGE BAY, Nunavut, March 30 (Reuters) – In a snow-covered Canadian hamlet on the tip of the Arctic Ocean, there are two grocery stores, one sports arena and no doctors – a visit to one usually involves at least a two-hour plane ride south. Dentists stop by the community of 2,000 twice a year, and water is brought in by trucks. Giving birth often involves flying to a city several hours away, weeks before the baby is due.
So when Cambridge Bay resident Natasha Neglak Lear, 49, heard about Prime Minister Mark Carney’s plan to spend over C$2 billion to designate her hometown as one of two new northern military centres, she was underwhelmed. There were more pressing issues to consider, she said, like a place for women to give birth locally.
“Before they do all that, they should give us what people have in the south,” she said, referring to the more than two-thirds of Canadians who live within 100 km of the U.S. border. “Develop us and give us birthing centers, doctors and dentists.”
Under Carney, Canada is spending more than C$35 billion to boost military spending and “take control” of its Arctic territory – a move partly prompted by U.S. President Donald Trump’s threats to annex Greenland and make Canada its 51st state, as well as Trump’s insistence that Canada and other allies increase their defence spending.
Keen to ensure Canada can independently respond to threats in a world Carney calls “more dangerous and divided,” Canada is upgrading airports, bolstering northern defenses and making sure it can deploy aircraft anywhere in the Arctic.
All this comes as climate change makes the frigid region more accessible. Russia has far more military bases than any other nation in the Arctic and in recent years, China has started to increase its presence in the mineral-rich area, mostly in partnership with Russia.
TRAUMATIC MEMORIES
Canada has about a quarter of the world’s Arctic territory, most of it significantly less developed than that of European nations. The region is bigger than continental Europe, accounts for 40% of Canada’s land mass and 75% of its coastline, but has fewer than 150,000 inhabitants.
Leaders of Indigenous communities – who form the vast majority of Arctic residents – have long complained of insufficient investment and politicians acknowledge the sparsely populated region lacks the tax base needed to fund major infrastructure projects.
There are virtually no all-season roads connecting Canada’s 50 Arctic communities and air tickets from one town to another routinely cost thousands of dollars.
Interviews with dozens of military, community and Indigenous leaders in Canada’s Arctic territory showed some were encouraged by Carney’s plan – which includes investing C$294 million in renovating Arctic airports and building new runways. Others worried the military would disrupt their way of life without improving health care, education and social services.
Cambridge Bay Mayor Wayne Gregory said he was “ecstatic” about Carney’s Arctic strategy announcement on March 12, describing the military hub designation as a potential turning point for the town.
But some Inuit, who make up more than 80% of Nunavut’s population of nearly 42,000, have painful memories of previous militarization efforts during the Cold War.
The government forcibly relocated dozens of people thousands of kilometres away and slaughtered thousands of sled dogs in the 1950s and 1960s, citing public safety and disease control needs – killings that deprived the Inuit of the ability to hunt and travel.
As Canada responds to Trump’s threats, Indigenous leaders fear the government could once again infringe on their constitutional right to manage their own land, culture and education.
“Our 51 communities in the Arctic are the foundation of Canadian sovereignty in the Arctic,” said Natan Obed, president of Inuit Tapiriit Kanatami, which represents more than 70,000 Inuit in the country’s far north. “We are the best prepared to handle any threats coming our way, and what we’ve been asking for is the necessary funding so we can have thriving communities.”
Carney’s government disputed the notion that increased defense spending in the area could translate to fewer funds for other initiatives locally. Eric Head, a spokesman for the Indigenous services ministry, cited dedicated resources for youth programs, mental health and community safety for Indigenous communities as well as recently announced plans to spend C$1.4 billion on health and social initiatives.
CARIBOU MIGRATION
Census data shows Indigenous people in the Arctic are much more likely to be unemployed and struggling to get food and housing compared to other Canadians. That has significant consequences: the rate of tuberculosis among Indigenous people in the Arctic is 600 times higher than among non-Indigenous people and their life expectancy is about 10 years shorter.
Only a fraction of the money to be spent over the next 12 years under Carney’s plan is intended exclusively for civilian projects, like a C$1 billion Arctic infrastructure fund that will build roads, bridges and ports.
Some Indigenous leaders say Carney failed to solicit their input before releasing his plan to develop the Arctic. George Mackenzie, Dene National Chief in the Northwest Territories, said the prime minister should sit down with the regional chiefs of Canada’s Indigenous people, just as he regularly meets with the premiers of the country’s provinces and territories.
Carney has previously promised to work with Indigenous leaders and said the government would also invest at least C$10 billion into energy projects, resulting in more than 10,000 jobs in the Arctic during construction.
Among the projects backed by Ottawa is the Grays Bay Road and Port project, which aims to connect a mineral-rich region in the Arctic to global shipping routes. Some locals, however, fear it will hurt the migration of local caribou herds, the region’s main food staple.
Lear, who sits on the board of the Kitikmeot Inuit Association, said she was surprised the project was being promoted by Carney before its impact on the environment had been assessed.
“We are already seeing a decline in the caribou and the construction could drive them away altogether,” she said. The Inuit depend on caribou for food, fur and hide.
At a local workshop teaching youth to make traditional fur and mittens, Haugaaq Ogina, 62, said this was the first time in her life she had seen so many politicians interested in the Arctic.
“With what’s going on in the world, we do need more protection,” she said. “I hope the leaders in charge think about what we need first.”
(Reporting by Maria Cheng; Editing by Caroline Stauffer and Deepa Babington)
