promised
that his country would act as an “equal partner” with Denmark, the
old colonial power. The Danish prime minister, Lars Løkke
Rasmussen, responded with a pledge that Greenland could claim full
independence whenever it chooses. A more cordial separation is
hard to imagine.
As in other parts of the Arctic, the indigenous
people of Greenland are flexing their political muscles. In
Greenland the Inuit, or part Inuit, account for nearly 90 percent
of the total population of 57,000 or so; and they have been
asserting ever-greater independence from Copenhagen, some 3,500km
(2,175 miles) away. In similar fashion, the Inuit of Canada won
some powers of home rule over much of the country’s Arctic
Archipelago when the new territory of Nunavut was set up a decade
ago. In northern Norway and Sweden (and to a lesser extent in
Finland and Russia), the Sami people have claimed autonomous
powers. Some 50,000 in Norway even have their own parliament.
Within the Russian Federation, two northern indigenous peoples, the Komi and Sakha (Yakuts) have, at least in theory, their
"own”
autonomous republics; though what powers that gives them in
practice depends on the ebb and flow of politics elsewhere in
Russia.
From New Zealand to Peru, the cause of
indigenous peoples is one that stirs passion and widespread
sympathy. A common struggle is either to curb mining or gain a
share of the proceeds. In Canada a pressing demand is for
consultation about their fate well before the prospectors arrive.
In many places, Australia for example, the aboriginal peoples are
struggling with social problems from alcoholism to domestic
violence brought by Europeans’ arrival and the end of traditional
nomadism; but if the indigenous peoples have a good chance of
asserting real economic and political power anywhere, then it is
probably the Arctic. The polar peoples are still relatively
numerous; few outsiders have been able to adapt to the beautiful
but harsh physical environment; and most of the countries where
they live happen to be democracies.
The sense of pride in Greenland is palpable.
Greenlandic has become the official language. Embassies will soon
be replacing consulates in Nuuk.
“It’s our land, our language. We
have to do things ourselves,” explains a local woman.
However, translating nominal political power over
such things as public funds for schools and hospitals, for
example, into real
independence will take a long time yet. The economy of Greenland
remains dependent on Danish largesse. Although Mr Kleist has
confident plans to develop tourism, as well as hydropower plants
to take advantage of meltwater running off the Greenlandic ice
cap. The locals today rely on Danish dole worth some $11,000 per
person per year.
A modern way of life in the far north is
necessarily costly. Greenland runs a Nordic-style welfare state on
a sparsely populated lump of ice three times the size of France.
With few roads, almost any trip between settlements calls for the
bright-red planes of Air Greenland. A large share of health
spending is spent ferrying patients to clinics; but handouts
themselves,
argues a local businessman, discourage the creation of
a productive local economy.
One of the reasons why Greenlanders need Danish
subsidies is the social problems, including poor health and bad
school results, that afflict so many indigenous groups in poorer
places. Life expectancy in Greenland is lower than it is in China,
in part because of alcoholism and suicide.
Similar problems beset the 30,000 mostly
Inuit people spread wide and far in Nunavut in Canada. The
population has some things in its favor–it is young and growing
fast–but many aboriginal northerners drop out of school early and
end up relying on government funds or public-sector jobs. A few
may survive, or at least supplement their incomes, through
traditional hunting (these days more often with snowmobiles than
with dogs), but the economic outlook is clouded. A parliamentary
report from Canada, published in 2008, noted that aboriginal
people in the country’s north are typically poorer than their
fellow citizens, as well as worse educated and more likely to be
unemployed.
A pair of trump cards
Two factors, however, may boost Inuit
bargaining power. One, oddly, is climate change. The receding ice
cap in Greenland and the melting of sea ice in the Arctic Ocean
are both threats and opportunities for his region, argues Mr
Kleist. On the one hand, warmer winters can make life harder for
hunters, especially for those who rely on predictable sea ice.
More rain and snow fall on Greenland in the winter. In some
low-lying parts of the Arctic, the rising sea and storms are
forcing whole villages to up sticks. Elsewhere melting permafrost
is harming roads and runways. That raises costs for mining
companies seeking gold, rubies, diamonds, zinc, iron, and more.
Warmer weather also stokes tourism:
watching icebergs, for example, in Ilulissat, the third-largest
town, where plans to extend the airport for long-haul flights are
underway. The loss of pack ice also makes sea-transport in the
Arctic easier for longer periods each year, and fishermen report a
rise in some fish stocks.
Thinner sea ice is also making it easier to
drill for oil and gas in the region, a second factor which could
improve its prospects. Many local leaders worry that a large
hydrocarbon industry in otherwise untouched parts of the Arctic
threatens a vulnerable ecology, but they can hardly ignore a
potential bonanza.