“Justice, democracy, law, in their ideal form — as I was best able to understand, dear teacher — were processes towards building societies that were not malleable to any one person, party, religion or culture’s narrative.
“Above all, the purpose and function of justice and law as pathways, methods, to lead us towards treating one another other fairly, the seeking of creating ever new iterations of justice — and, to be clear, fairness as viewed from behind something like Rawls veil of ignorance.
“I want to condemn Israel, under the solidarity of an Indigenous person living, too, under the pressures of settler-colonialism. But any solution that includes violence to any ‘side’ is fundamentally flawed because fair and impartial justice would, in its ideal form, say there is no dominant narrative, correct? Like no human’s story, no nation’s story, is more ‘true’ than another.”
I wrote this recently to my favourite political theory professor from years ago, sad while watching the news and wrestling with myself.
I spent hours speaking with this man about state craft, the art of law, the beauty of Indigenous epistemologies and how radical I believed my Dene grandmother, and nation, was. The philosophy department was a quiet, welcome sanctuary for me as a student.
His response came a short while later, ever the patient teacher.
“Good afternoon dear Cass. Yes, Rawls’ veil of ignorance is meant to establish the political space within which all may flourish (equal liberty, equality of opportunity, etc), no matter what one’s metaphysics, religion, ethics, cultural background may be. As you say so well, it rejects any dominant narrative that would attempt to shape justice as fairness for its own purposes. In war, the dream of such a political space vanishes.”
Why is this so significant? Who are terrorists, I ask you, in a world where there is no dominant narrative? What does this mean when the state of Canada calls Indigenous peoples, or land defenders, terrorists? And even the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples would name this settler state as the principle authority by what is defined as the “harmony of the state.”
Reports of arbitrary detainment in Palestine remind me of an interview I saw with a young Palestinian years ago — she said the bombing would stop only so long for her family and friends that they would begin to experience some semblance of peace. And then it would start again, leaving people locked in a cyclical hyper-vigilance, over decades, generations — just as the healing begins, as the somatic reset begins collectively in bodies, minds, collective neurology rebuilding in neighbourhoods, communities, in beloveds, family and friends.
Just as with Indigenous peoples here on Turtle Island, here in Denendeh, where peace is restored, revitalizations, language, birth, art, story, creation — Indigenous renaissances, and then continued, displacement, invasions of cultural camps, pipelines being built still, mining, funding cuts, policy developments, drilling in sacred spaces — representing continued, prolonged disrespect to our ways of knowing and being in the world.
The change is already taking place, possibility is already here, but we must be willing to do the shadow work of grieving, of letting go. May we be courageous enough to continue to believe in the possibility of a future beyond conflict, to love one another beyond misunderstanding, and continue to dream. To dream beyond everything we’ve been told this world already is.