perhaps, about the Committee later … The NPC is composed of a select group of chiefs and some elders who represent regions across the country. They provide advice and counsel for the Movement as a whole.
“Early on, we adopted organizational structures taken from modern militant organizations and created as well a sophisticated, secret, business-like organization. We are very careful, and successful so far as we know, in cloaking our operations behind groups and governing agencies legitimately associated with the aboriginal community.”
“On the reserves and so on?”
“Indeed, a member of a legitimate organization or a reserve might be at the same time a leader of a local revolutionary cell, and a band chief might be a member of the NPC, and one or both might be part of some federal negotiations task force, especially if we can convince, by whatever means, federal politicians to let us join or run such task forces and inquiries.
“These crossovers make it difficult for the government and law enforcement agencies to take any sort of action against us without risking trouble. It’s a situation we exploit with some skill … and ruthlessness, if I might say so.
“The Council is supported by three main offices. The Information and Intelligence Authority, or IIA, provides clandestine control over the First Nations’ Radio and Television Network, the First Nations’ Internet Service, and the Aboriginal Media Relations Association. Its job is to bolster native self-awareness and the community’s sense of grievance and to deflect any criticisms of any native initiative or organization by playing on ‘white guilt’ and so on.
“We also send delegates to academic meetings and public events to beat the guilt drum and castigate anyone, especially politicians or academics, who dares criticize or raise doubts about native claims, rights, or activities.”
“Bill, I assume this unit is related to some type of intelligence operations,” Alex said. “Without it you’d be flying in the dark and very vulnerable.”
“Of course. The Movement’s intelligence unit, our second major unit, collects, analyses, collates, and disseminates intelligence within our organization. It employs a score of analysts – mostly former soldiers and police officers loyal to the cause – housed in a couple of innocuous-looking offices in Ottawa and Winnipeg, hidden within legitimate establishments operated by the native community. Its counter-intelligence wing works to prevent federal investigations of native governments and funding programs or any intrusive inquiries of any kind. It also develops ‘sources’ within the federal and provincial governments and within all the federal political parties.”
“Within the political parties? Isn’t that risky?”
“Well, it can be except when individuals and parties need money, if you see what I mean.”
Alex nodded in disbelief.
“Our third main unit, Alex, is the Reconciliation Authority – the RA. Its public aim is to prompt reconciliation between native and non-native Canadians. Its real duty is to maintain and track the maze of legal battles and challenges to land and other claims made by the native community against Canada. It also clandestinely collects information, including records of ownership of farmland across the country, especially on the Prairies. We’re building up a record of all the rulings involving native people, and who made them, in municipal, provincial, and federal courts and tribunals. We’re in effect building a reconciliation invoice of the price to be extracted from Canadians in the future for their decisions and actions in the past.”
“All very costly, obviously. How can you raise such money without the RCMP seeing it?”
“Well, we do it mostly in the open. Our Financial Unit manages three distinct streams of revenue. The first is public money. Government grants of all sorts, available in surprisingly large quantities, flow into the native community every year under incredibly lax controls. Most of the money is spent as intended, but we ‘tax’ a portion of it.”
“Don’t chiefs and others complain when your taxman shows up?”
“Some do from time to time, but they all eventually listen to reason after a visit or two.
“The second, and indirect, source of funding comes from smuggling. Drug and cigarette smugglers, native and otherwise, might not be sympathetic to the Movement. But they are willing and able to pay for our sophisticated intelligence information; if that doesn’t interest them, our threats to betray them to the authorities always help us to reach a settlement with them. They would rather do business than fight us. The payout, though dirty, is highly lucrative.
“The third major source of funding may surprise you. We obtain substantial contributions from online operations. Sort of like political parties, seal lovers, and religious groups, we generate money from well-intentioned Canadians and from hundreds of people in other countries who are eager to support ‘oppressed Canadian aboriginal people’. And since the beginning of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, we have also received large donations from ‘sources’ in those regions.”
“Why would they send you money, Bill? I doubt, from my experiences in the region, that anyone, even the educated elites, cares a rat’s ass about our problems.”
“Perhaps not, Alex. But I think some people in the region who oppose your ‘educated elites’ would rather have our soldiers occupied in Canada and not wandering around opposing them in theirs.
“That’s the tip of the iceberg, Alex. The Movement is large, active, and ambitious, and its funding base is considerable as well. We can turn on the tap, so to speak, whenever we need to by making ‘requests’ from politicians, large and small, and from officials, judges, police, customs agents and criminals on both sides of the Canada/U.S. border. Once touched by occasional payoffs and bribes or girl or boyfriends, we own them. They provide influence and information on demand as well. They’re what we call ‘the insurance.’”
The picture Bill Whitefish gave Alex left the soldier impressed, but at the same time uneasy. Even he had his prejudices. These guys obviously understood the theory, but could their followers manage an operation of this scale, sophistication, and seriousness. They were after all, just reserve Indians.
“Any questions?” Bill asked.
“Well, yeah,” Alex stammered. “Lots, mostly details: how many people; where are we strong and weak; can I count on the young leaders; how does what we did last night fit the grand strategy, if, with respect, there is one. Things like that.” He took a deep breath, then took the plunge. “Where is it all going? What’s our endgame?”
The woman at the back of the room spoke up. “We can cover those matters later, much later in some cases. Today, we’re situating you for the next operation and for a leadership role in it. Go on, Bill.”
Alex turned from Whitefish to the woman, then back to Whitefish. Whatever they were up to, it was happening fast and he was in too deep to back out now.
“Okay, Alex,” Bill went on, “let me put the Native People’s Army – the NPA, the armed wing of the Movement – on the board. It’s not so much an army as an idea. And the idea is simple – get lots of armed people concentrated in important areas, overcome the defences of Canada, especially where the Canadian Forces are weak, then stay there. The NPA is based on several related objectives: maintenance of an irregular armed force with reasonable levels of internal unity and discipline; the development of full-time combat commanders and leaders; the establishment of high skills in low-level tactics and technical capabilities; subversion of the police and the Canadian Forces; and the destruction of the Canadian army’s public image as ‘peacekeepers.’
“The crucial effort over the past three years has been to create in the minds of our people the belief that their army is just that, their army – an organization they can identify with and a source of communal pride. ‘People’s army, people’s war,’ that’s the traditional revolutionary battle cry …”
“Vo Nguyên Giap, the Vietnamese general,” Alex interrupted.
Again Bill glanced at the back of the