In my role as an executive assistant to my community’s Band Council, I get to peek behind the curtain of so-called Indigenous governance. The other day I overheard a rather cynical take on Quebec’s new Bill 97. During a meeting between various regional Chiefs, one told the others “it isn’t possible for us to both […]

In my role as an executive assistant to my community’s Band Council, I get to peek behind the curtain of so-called Indigenous governance. The other day I overheard a rather cynical take on Quebec’s new Bill 97. During a meeting between various regional Chiefs, one told the others “it isn’t possible for us to both protect the environment and have economic development. We have no chance of stopping [Bill 97], so we should just get as much as we can from it, so I think that’s what we should do.” This was met with either silence or agreement from the other Chiefs. I then sat and watched as they planned symbolic protests all the while knowing they were just going to ask for hush money and roll over. This total capitulation in the face of the Capitalist crisis showed me what our so-called ‘leaders’ really are: the administrators of a decaying system. They will make their speeches, maybe even secure some concessions, but when it comes down to it, they will abandon the struggle. It’s this kind of institutional defeatism that radicalized me in the first place and convinced me that we need a worker’s revolution.