Canadian politicians and First Nations leaders all agree that economic development will be critical for raising the living standards of Canada’s native population. In many cases, this will mean bringing large, multinational corporations onto traditional native lands — because only these companies have the resources and expertise necessary to develop mines and other capital-extensive resource-extraction operations.

Unfortunately, as the example of Attawapiskat shows, the situation in and around many reserves actively repels that kind of investment.

Large, risk-averse companies won’t invest in areas of the country where the local population doesn’t respect Canadian laws — or even obey local band chiefs. Militant native protesters in these areas may think they’re striking a blow for economic empowerment. But all they’re really doing is reinforcing the stereotype that native tribes aren’t responsible business partners.

The De Beers Victor Mine, located in the lowlands 90 km west of the James Bay Cree community of Attawapiskat, cost $1-billion to create. Before a single diamond particle was extracted, the company negotiated impact benefit agreements (IBAs) with four local communities — including Attawapiskat. The details of the IBAs are confidential, but the company has publicly declared that “since the start of construction, over $360-million in contracts have been awarded to solely owned or joint venture companies run by [Attawapiskat]. In 2012, contracts awarded to the community were over $40-million. To build capacity within the community, two training facilities have been constructed in the community at a combined cost of almost $2-million. We currently employ over 60 full-time employees from the community, and over 100 from other First Nations.”

In addition to providing all of this employment, infrastructure and money, De Beers operates the 250 km ice road running from the town of Moosonee at the southern tip of James Bay all the way up to Attawapiskat — a massive engineering undertaking that provides three months of car access to communities that are otherwise fly-in dots on the map.

I drove the ice road last month and was shocked by how much manpower and heavy equipment is required to keep it operational. (Jobs on the ice road are in high demand — and the lucky men who get them often flaunt their specialized jackets as status symbols even when they’re off-duty.)

De Beers doesn’t do this out of the goodness of its corporate heart. It does it because it wants to operate a profitable diamond mine — and the ice road is an essential means to deliver fuel and heavy equipment that can’t be brought in by air. This is how it justifies the cost of the ice road and the multi-million-dollar IBAs to its shareholders.

The whole point of signing these agreements is to define the obligations of each side in concrete terms. For the Attawapiskat side, that means providing safe, unimpeded access to the Victor Mine along the ice road that De Beers itself builds and maintains. Yet for weeks, protestors from four local families have been staging an on-again/off-again blockade of the 90 km spur that leads from the main Moosonee-Attawapiskat ice road to the Victor Mine. This could compromise mine operations for a whole year, since the company only has a narrow time window to deliver supplies before the ice road melts in late March or early April.

According to an APTN report, the protestors seem to be freelancers — locals from Attawapiskat who are upset with De Beers for “a number of grievances ranging from personal, past employment and pay issues with De Beers, to the lack of housing in the community, the need for compensation over the loss of traditional traplines and burial sites along with overarching environmental issues.”

It’s unclear whether they are acting with the support of Chief Theresa Spence. But the band certainly isn’t doing anything to apprehend or discourage the protestors. That raises the question of whether it’s worth it for companies to enter into IBAs with bands — especially those, such as Attawapiskat, with dysfunctional leadership — in the first place. If any hothead can go out and close down the ice road, what are all those millions buying?

Other aspects of De Beers’ experience in Attawapiskat raise questions as well. During my visit there in January, it became obvious to me that the company’s humanitarian mission in the community is open-ended. The trailers that were provided by the company in 2009 to remedy an emergency housing crisis, for instance, represented an act of charity. In coming months, De Beers will be replacing the trailers with more modern units — also at company expense, outside the parameters of the IBA. The company provides the schools with textbooks, and also has become Attawapiskat’s de facto unpaid lobbyist in Ottawa.

This is the sort of lawless behaviour that one expects in places such as, say, Nigeria, where Western companies actually budget for such shakedowns

Given that De Beers essentially has taken on the role of the welfare state in Attawapiskat, perhaps the blockades shouldn’t come as a surprise: Since the company has been generous in the past, it’s not surprising that protestors are looking to see how far they can push things. No doubt, they’re banking on the knowledge that the easiest course for De Beers would be simply to render payment, in some respectably veiled fashion, to whoever can credibly promise to stop the protests.

This is the sort of lawless behaviour that one expects in places such as, say, Nigeria, where Western companies actually budget for such shakedowns. And it’s appalling that it would be tolerated on Canadian soil.

On Wednesday, a judge in Timmins, Ont., said as much when he declared that the protestors were “individuals with private financial interests, holding a large multinational corporation to ransom … It smells of coercion.” According to a Timmins Daily Press account, Judge Robert Riopelle also “felt there was sufficient basis for the Ontario Provincial Police to lay criminal charges against the six demonstrators who have prevented access to the mine site.”

But as at Caledonia and numerous other “protest” sites in recent years, the Ontario Provincial Police have done nothing. At Wednesday’s hearing in Timmins, an OPP lawyer claimed that the police force must remain neutral and embrace a “measured approach” — even in the face of an explicit Feb. 15 court injunction demanding that De Beers have access to the ice road. At this, Neal Smitheman, the lawyer representing De Beers, understandably responded with exasperation. “What is the message being sent to the world,” he asked, when “five or six disgruntled ex-employees … can shut down a business of 500 people at a cost of millions? That there is no law in Northern Ontario.”

The immediate victim of this lawlessness is De Beers. But in the long run, it will be natives themselves. Businesses simply won’t operate in places where contracts aren’t respected and court orders are flouted.

National Post