Toronto Regional Office

The Toronto Indian Affairs regional office is described the way I remember it: an agency more concerned with reorganization – whether it be turning the regional office into an ‘open concept’ with numerous colour-coded cubicles, or amalgamating district offices into a small number of ‘super districts – than serving the indigenous communities. So, too, are the meetings with the regional superintendent of economic development and the regional director general where protecting the agency and subterfuge are employed to discredit Rager.

What follows is an excerpt from Part 3, Chapter 3, where the regional superintend of economic development is attempting to discredit Rager. The reader should know that I too did report a similar incident in the Nakina district to my superiors where everything was done to cover up the incident.

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To everyone in the regional office, it was evident that Stephen was a hard-working government official. His cubicle was stacked with files and reports and everyday people could see his dedication to keeping the paper moving. Seven years earlier, Stephen had worked as a consultant with an international consulting firm, overseeing World Bank engineering projects in the Caribbean. But the work was stressful – for one thing, he was always under pressure to generate as many billable hours as possible – and unrewarding – he was often away from home for extended periods of time which eventually led him to leave the firm and seek employment with the federal government. Through old university friends, he secured a position as secretary to the Ontario Indian Affairs Small Business Loan Fund before being promoted to his current position, where he worked as hard as he could, thinking it was only a matter of time before the agency promoted him to regional director general. After all, David Stewart was a career academic on a two-year leave of absence to help the agency reorganize, with no long-term ambition to stay or seek a promotion.

Stephen led a pleasant life. He and his wife Catherine, a city librarian, would often walk on the boardwalk beside Lake Ontario. She too was comfortable in her work that allowed her to garden, take yoga lessons, and share quiet moments with old friends. The couple had no children – they had long ago decided that having children was something for other people. “The world is already over-populated. Why should we contribute to the problem?” Stephen said, and Catherine readily agreed. They could often be seen in the early morning heading off to work, a couple with bagged lunches pedaling down a quiet residential street, waving to each other before parting, “See you later, honey!” each heading off in different directions.

Life smiled on Stephen. If he ever thought about Indian villages, it was to reflect on how they were impossible to repair – much like the businesses supported by the Indian Small Business Loan Fund, where seventy percent of loans were in arrears and the program was impossible to maintain without an annual infusion of funds. These were issues he had no answer to, so he stopped thinking about them. They were simply unsolvable problems – and there were so many unsolvable problems with Indians that it was just not worth thinking about.

When the two men met, Rager repeated what he had told the regional superintendent on the phone but took more time. “Stephen, let me tell you what it’s been like since I first arrived in Grayson.” He pointed to his predecessor’s advice to take bribes. “On the first day that I showed up, Walt advised me to take bribes from Mensen. He said that everyone did and I should just go along with the practice. Of course, it was offensive and I told him, ‘I don’t take bribes.’ The idea that Mensen gives ‘better service’ to the camps is a ruse to award him untendered contracts. Moreover, Reed has always known what was happening but has done nothing to stop the practice. Instead, he pretends that Mensen gives better service when no one knows what that means. Two months ago, I awarded the tourist camp contract to the Northwest Air Services Company because they submitted a much lower bid.”

Stephen replied, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, I am now.”

“You better have your facts straight, because I transferred Walt to the Sioux Lookout district office. If I had known he accepted bribes, I never would have offered him the position.”

Rager pointed to Sister Brunelle’s letter and what she had discovered in Windsor House: a village with a tortured history, and her accusation that district officials took bribes. He described Mr. Reed’s reaction to the letter: his outright refusal to admit that anything was wrong, his fear that the letter might go public and lead to an inquiry, and his decision to send Rager into the village to develop an action plan. “Reed and the district supervisor of education have kept the village school closed for over a year because teachers don’t want to work in a building with a broken furnace, broken furniture, and a lack of a permanent police presence, and these are things that Reed has done nothing to address. I did go to Windsor House. I met the chief and council, and I wrote a report with five recommendations, which I submitted to Reed in early October. He’s probably sitting on it because I haven’t heard a word out of him.”

“I’m sorry to hear that you worked on something that has gone nowhere,” Stephen replied. “Maybe the report got lost in the mail. You never know, these things do happen. We have so much paperwork passing through the regional office that it is often overwhelming.” Stephen stared at the pile of paperwork lying on his desk. Some of the pile seemed to be teetering ready to fall. “My point is that you have to be careful about what you say.”

Rager described Elijah (a village chief) showing up in his office, beaten up. “When I saw Elijah, I could hardly believe my eyes. His face was black and blue. He had an eye stitched, a broken front tooth, broken nose, and he could barely stand without shaking. The police had thrown him into jail because he was drunk. They kept him there for two days before he was released, not once bothering to send for a doctor. He was only treated at the hospital after his release. Elijah told me that no one is welcome in Otter Falls, not until Freddy and Olaf are arrested and charged (these are two district Indian Affairs officials). How long do you think we can last before the other villages start doing the same thing, telling us to keep out?”

Rager described Mensen as a bully and a racist – someone who supplied prostitutes and tried to intimidate people. He told him of the day when Mensen squeezed his neck so Rager would arrange to sell him the agency camps. “The man is dangerous and determined to get possession of the camps one way or another. He cares nothing about the villages. This is the way he operates. He seeks out weak government officials to bribe or bully and no one is stopping him – certainly not Reed or any of the district supervisors. If anything, they turn a blind eye. He needs to be stopped.”

Finally, Rager came to his main point. “How can I do my job with all the corruption in the district office? And now an Indian chief has been beaten by two district officials and the police do nothing to investigate. If we don’t do something, if we sit back and let it pass, we’re as guilty as all of them put together. We might as well take up guns and begin shooting Indians – at least it would be quicker. What we’re doing now is worse than murder: it’s betrayal.”

Stephen Majors had done his best to avoid controversy all his life. Suddenly, someone he had hired was shining a spotlight on the agency. He was shaken and spoke cautiously. Who knew what the man in front of him might do? “You know that these are very serious accusations, so let’s be very careful with what we say. Let’s not rock the boat without any proof, not now, not just yet.” He wished he could make it all go away – what Rager described reminded him of a third world country.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Rager replied.

“I mean, I don’t think we need to say anything right now, do we?

At this point, the regional superintendent attempts to discredit Rager.

“Reed said that you’re exaggerating and out of control. He thinks you’ve gone a little bit cuckoo.”

Rager’s stomach curled. He expected that at any moment, an OPP officer might suddenly appear and lead him away.

“I’m not exaggerating,” he said.

“Reed says that a lot of what you say is exaggerated and that bribes were never paid. Oh, true enough, maybe someone offered someone a bribe. These things do happen; people get greedy. But money never did change hands.”

At this point, Stephen appeared sad and disappointed. Here was a man he had hired who was capable of turning on the agency, a man who could exaggerate and even fabricate a story for ulterior motives. He choose, therefore, to speak carefully; measuring his words as though in a court of law explaining to a judge and jury the seriousness of the case, and how events could easily be misinterpreted. “You and I both know that there is no proof of anyone taking bribes. As for two district officials beating up an Indian chief in the middle of the night – in a dark alley, no less – well, that too seems a bit hard to swallow. Do you think if the OPP had any evidence they wouldn’t investigate, lay charges, and make an arrest?”

Like any good lawyer, he answered his own question, casting doubt on the accuser. “Why, of course they would. After all, it’s their job to investigate; they are the police. You only have one thing you can prove, and I believe that is the real issue underlying your complaint about Reed: the lack of action on what you refer to as the Windsor House report, which no one has seen or heard about. Is that what’s really bothering you, John? Be honest with me. Are you angry that Reed has done nothing with your report?” He arched an eyebrow – a gift from his father.

“Am I correct to think that you think I’m making it all up – is that what you think of me, Stephen?” Rager replied.

“I think you’re jumping to conclusions, John. A chief shows up in your office, badly beaten, tells you the police arrested the wrong man, and accuses two of your co-workers of beating him up. He may very well be looking at some form of retribution for those two men – what for, I have no idea. He could easily have been beaten by someone else; don’t you think it rather convenient for an Indian chief who hates the Department of Indian Affairs to blame two agency officials? As for the bribes, perhaps your Mr. Mensen is trying to see what he can get out of you. As for buying the camps, well the man may have a point. We never have been able to make the camps profitable. But you have absolutely no proof that others in the district office are taking bribes. No, you have none whatsoever.”

“Really? You believe that all I just told you is made up?”

“Yes, I think so. But then, you look a bit under the weather, a bit tired and irritable. I wonder why?”

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