Julie Smyth, National Post
OTTAWA -- Patrick Brazeau's office is in a grey building set back from the road on a busy commercial strip, halfway between a Mister Muffler and car leasing company in Ottawa's east end. It is the sort of place easily missed. The second-floor suite, decorated with polar bears and aboriginal crafts, is standard but for one thing: A collection of framed photos of him and senior Conservatives. Hanging by the door are two pictures of him and Prime Minister Stephen Harper and several of him with Cabinet ministers.
Mr. Brazeau is the National Chief of the Congress of Aboriginal Peoples, a group that split from the Assembly of First Nations and represents off-reserve natives and Métis people. He is 33, fairly new to aboriginal politics and is seen as a rabble-rouser -- he was the only native leader to support the Conservatives in the last election, has taken on the AFN and its National Chief, Phil Fontaine, set up a blog to provoke debate on contentious issues (he calls it "Chief Chat") and is intentionally provocative. He wants an end to all national aboriginal groups, including the AFN ("That should be the end game," he says) and, not surprisingly, has made few friends in the aboriginal establishment.
His route to this high-level political career has certainly been unconventional -- two years in the naval reserves and a brief career as a model. Mr. Brazeau, who has a handsome face, ties his hair back in a ponytail and wears a silver ring in one ear, worked some fashion shows, tried to get acting jobs and was offered a role in a Molson Export commercial, which he turned down to pursue his career at CAP. The modelling, he says "was never anything serious," but his good looks have helped draw attention to his cause.
He joined the Congress in 2000, became its leader in 2006, and since, has steered a course away from other native groups. He did not support Paul Martin's Kelowna Accord because he says it lacked accountability. When he turned up at the Throne Speech as a guest of the Tory government, there were raised eyebrows. The AFN was angry when Mr. Harper declined to attend one of its meetings but gave a speech at one of CAP's big events.
For his part, Mr. Brazeau says he is non-partisan (his Congress has not decided who to back next election) and he is unapologetic about supporting the Tories. He sent 10 questions to all of the parties in the last election: There was no response from the Liberal Party and a seven-page detailed letter from Mr. Harper, then leader of the Opposition. He says the Liberals did not respond after the fallout of the Kelowna Accord. "We took that as a sign of disrespect."
He seems to revel in the controversy his leadership has created: "I think in order for change to happen you sometimes have to be provocative, you have to at least ask questions and demand greater accountability. That is ruffling a lot of feathers, it is scaring a lot of people."
He says that most of the backlash he has received is from the Assembly of First Nations, which, he says, is run by an "elitist few."
There has been a long-standing rift among rival native groups in Canada - some claim to represent the same constituents and they bicker over funding, policy and membership lists - but it has deepened since Mr. Brazeau took over CAP.
He believes he has something different to bring to the debate: "Being a young aboriginal person, I have heard a lot of the same old messaging and rhetoric on the part of some of our leadership - asking for more money and not taking ownership and responsibility for their own actions and basically promoting the status quo."
His supporters write flattering remarks on his blog and back his calls for dramatic change. But he has also been the subject of what he calls "personal jabs." He was born in Maniwaki, Que., and spent most of his childhood 1,000 metres from the Kitigan Zibi reserve. His grandmother was born on the reserve but married a non-native, which meant she lost her status and had to leave. In 1985, an amendment to the Indian Act, Bill C-31, returned her status and meant Mr. Brazeau became recognized as an Algonquin Indian.
Still, on Internet chat sites, his critics refer to him as "white."
People like Jean-Guy Whiteduck, former chief of the Kitigan Zibi reserve for 30 years, and a distant cousin to Mr. Brazeau, regard him as an opportunist with questionable ties to the community. "He was not involved in First Nations politics until recently. He has had very little involvement and limited understanding."
But his biggest foe since entering political life has been Mr. Fontaine. And no wonder.
The Congress released a report last month called "Where Does the Money Go?", which raised concerns about how public money is allocated for native groups. Mr. Brazeau talks about how off-reserve natives receive $1 for every $8 given to on-reserve natives, despite 79% of aboriginal people living off reserves, and questions the $111-million given to the AFN to run its organization. (The government also funds the Congress - close to $9-million a year - and he earns a public salary of $99,000 a year.)
In one unpleasant exchange, the leader of the AFN approached Mr. Brazeau when the pair was part of the federal government's budget blitz on Parliament Hill. "Chief Fontaine approached me, and grabbing me by the arm, pleaded to me that we ‘have to stop saying that we don't need more money,'" said Mr. Brazeau.
"I think that many aboriginal peoples across this country believe that governments, because of past wrongdoings, owe them something," he says in an interview. He argues that while governments have a responsibility, there should be less reliance on public handouts.
Some of his ideas are not original - they are shared by other national organizations and suggested in a royal commission years ago. He is a proponent of abolishing the Indian Act, as are others, but says there is little will to change: "A lot of leaders, including the leader of the AFN, will say we need to get rid of the Indian Act but, let's face it, the Indian Act is what has created the Assembly of First Nations and has created the reserve system and all 600-plus chiefs. They need the Indian Act to hold on to their power."
He would like to see a return to the traditional system before the Indian Act - an Algonquin nation, a Cree nation, and so on. He thinks each group should set up its own accountability structure under new legislation, with 60 to 80 chiefs replacing 633 chiefs.
By the time any of this happens - if indeed it does - he may have moved on, though.
Mr. Brazeau has always wanted to get into federal politics. He says he has been approached by Liberals and Conservatives, though has not had any serious offers.
For now, he says, "I am with the Congress" and he is busy with his family life - he lives in Gatineau, Que., with his wife, who has an aboriginal crafts business, and has three children, aged 13, seven and two.
At the end of the interview, he cannot help returning to the topic of Mr. Fontaine and his group: "The AFN national chief said he represents all First Nations people. Well, I'm a First Nations person and I did not give him that right to represent me. As a matter of fact, he living off-reserve, means I represent him," he adds, smiling.
It's tit-for-tat, he says, and there is surely more to come.
Read more on the National Post's series, "Rethinking the reserve": http://www.nationalpost.com/news/canada/rethinkingthereserve/story.html?id=280528