Introduction
The Canada-United States-Mexico Agreement (CUSMA) came into force on 1 July 2020.Footnote 1 CUSMA contains a novel exception for measures that a party state “deems necessary to fulfill its legal obligations to [I]ndigenous peoples.”Footnote 2 A footnote explains that, for Canada, these legal obligations include those rights recognized and affirmed by section 35 of the Constitution Act, 1982 Footnote 3 and those rights contained in self-government agreements between Canadian governments and Indigenous peoples. While previous Canadian trade treaties, including the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA),Footnote 4 have included limited protections for Canadian measures relating to Indigenous peoples, CUSMA is the first to create a general carve-out from all treaty obligations.
This is a crucial time in the relationship between Canada and Indigenous peoples. From the earliest European settlement in this territory, colonial governments have pursued antagonistic and racist policies towards Indigenous peoples.Footnote 5 Indigenous peoples have struggled to have their inherent and treaty rights recognized and affirmed by Canadian governments. Indigenous groups, commissions of inquiry, and allies have called on Canadian governments to prioritize Canada’s constitutional and moral obligations to Indigenous peoples. Within this context, ensuring that Canadian international treaty obligations respect the rights of Indigenous peoples and Canada’s corresponding obligations is imperative. Canadian commitments under earlier trade and investment treaties, however, have been an ongoing concern for Indigenous peoples, especially those agreements’ commitments to protect foreign investors.Footnote 6 For example, foreign investors might claim that new Canadian project approval requirements that uphold duties to consult Indigenous peoples are inconsistent with treaty obligations to provide “fair and equitable treatment” if enhanced consultation requirements create serious delays or ultimately prohibit the project.Footnote 7 Undoubtedly, these sorts of concerns encouraged Canada to propose an exception for actions that fulfill its obligations to Indigenous peoples, which is referred to in this article as the Indigenous general exception (IGE).Footnote 8
This article provides a preliminary analysis of the prospects for Canada to rely on the IGE and some possible implications of doing so. A new exception complementing existing protections for state actions in relation to Indigenous peoples enhances Canadian flexibility to appropriately respect and protect Indigenous rights, compared to other recent treaties, like the Canada-Europe Comprehensive Economic and Trade Agreement (CETA) and the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership (CPTPP).Footnote 9 Many leading commentators on international trade and Indigenous peoples have characterized the IGE as providing the broadest protection for Indigenous peoples’ rights found in any trade treaty.Footnote 10 A key question, however, is whether the IGE permits Canada to decide what its obligations to Indigenous peoples require or whether Canada’s reliance on the IGE could be challenged by the United States or Mexico and, ultimately, ruled on by a dispute settlement panel under CUSMA. We conclude that interpretation of the IGE is likely to afford Canada broad, but not unlimited, discretion to determine what its “legal obligations to [I]ndigenous peoples” require.Footnote 11 This interpretation creates a residual risk that Canada’s reliance on the IGE could be challenged through CUSMA’s dispute settlement process.
The prospect of a CUSMA panel deciding whether Canada can rely on the IGE raises several concerns. As explained in more detail below, these concerns include the composition of the panel, the expertise of the panel members, and the limited participatory rights of affected Indigenous parties. And, critically, to the extent that the United States or Mexico can challenge whether a Canadian measure is protected by the IGE, Canadian flexibility to determine how best to fulfill its obligations could be circumscribed. Canada requires significant flexibility because its obligations to Indigenous peoples are extensive, complex, and, in many cases, evolving and contested. Where uncertainty surrounds Canada’s legal obligations to Indigenous peoples, recourse to the IGE is also uncertain. The risk of challenge from the United States or Mexico could inhibit Canada’s willingness to fulfill those obligations.Footnote 12
The threat of panel adjudication under CUSMA should not be overstated. For a variety of reasons, such cases are likely to be rare. Significantly, the IGE marks the first time that the United States and Mexico have agreed in a trade treaty to allow broad protection for another party’s measures relating to Indigenous peoples. As noted, the IGE creates a defence against US and Mexican claims that Canada has breached its treaty obligations that has no analogue in any other Canadian treaty. Nevertheless, any panel adjudication regarding the availability of the IGE could have damaging, if unintended, consequences on Canada’s already fraught relationship with Indigenous peoples, to the extent that a panel will have a role in deciding what Canada’s obligations to Indigenous peoples require. This possibility only arises because of the IGE. The focus of this article is on how the IGE applies in relation to Canada, but many of the conclusions will be relevant for understanding how the new exception might apply to measures in the United States and Mexico.
The Text of the IGE
The IGE is set out in Article 32.5 of CUSMA, in Chapter 32, Section A: Exceptions, under the heading “Indigenous Peoples Rights”:
Provided that such measures are not used as a means of arbitrary or unjustified discrimination against persons of the other Parties or as a disguised restriction on trade in goods, services, and investment, this Agreement does not preclude a Party from adopting or maintaining a measure it deems necessary to fulfill its legal obligations to [I]ndigenous peoples.
A footnote to the article adds the following clarification: “For greater certainty, for Canada the legal obligations include those recognized and affirmed by section 35 of the Constitution Act 1982 or those set out in self-government agreements between a central or regional level of government and [I]ndigenous peoples.” The IGE imposes two distinct requirements. To rely on the IGE in relation to the adoption or maintenance of a particular measure, the state must “deem[] [the measure] necessary to fulfill its legal obligations to [I]ndigenous peoples.” Even if this requirement is met, however, the measure must not be “used as a means of arbitrary or unjustified discrimination against persons of the other Parties or as a disguised restriction on trade in goods, services, and investment.” This second requirement (referred to in this article as the IGE chapeau) imposes an additional limitation on Canada’s reliance on the IGE. Before considering the interpretation of these requirements, however, we will locate the IGE in the context of other provisions related to Indigenous peoples in Canada’s other major trade treaties.
Canada’s Approach to Matters Related to Indigenous Peoples in Previous Trade Treaties Compared to CUSMA
Previous Canadian treaties contain no exception like the IGE. Rather, Canada has relied on a broad reservation from certain obligations related to trade in services and investment protection (referred to as a Services and Investment Reservation) to allow it to fulfill commitments to Indigenous peoples.Footnote 13 In NAFTA, for example, the Services and Investment Reservation allows Canada to “adopt or maintain any measure denying investors of another Party and their investments, or service providers of another Party, any rights or preferences provided to [A]boriginal peoples.”Footnote 14 This provision identifies the Constitution Act, 1982 as an existing measure protected by this reservation. As noted, the Constitution Act, 1982 includes the protection of “Aboriginal” and treaty rights under section 35, although section 35 is not mentioned in the reservation.Footnote 15 An identical Services and Investment Reservation is included in the CPTPP Footnote 16 and CETA. Footnote 17
Canada has taken a similarly worded Services and Investment Reservation in CUSMA, but it refers specifically to section 35 of the Constitution Act, 1982 and to self-government agreements:
Canada reserves the right to adopt or maintain measures conferring rights or preferences to [A]boriginal peoples. For greater certainty, Canada reserves the right to adopt and maintain measures related to the rights recognized and affirmed by section 35 of the Constitution Act, 1982 or those set out in self-government agreements between a central or regional level of government and [I]ndigenous peoples.Footnote 18
The first sentence follows the language of previous Services and Investment Reservations in protecting preferential Canadian policies directed at Indigenous peoples. The second sentence is intended to clarify that the scope of CUSMA’s reservation includes Canadian actions that relate to existing Indigenous rights under section 35 of the Constitution Act, 1982 as well as self-government agreements, which do not benefit from constitutional protection in some cases. The intent of the second sentence is not to modify the scope of the Services and Investment Reservation as compared to those in previous treaties.Footnote 19
As discussed in more detail below, the IGE complements, rather than replaces, Canada’s reliance on such reservations. While general exceptions like the IGE can benefit all treaty parties, Services and Investment Reservations are inherently limited. Such reservations only apply to the country that lists them; thus, Canada’s Services and Investment Reservation applies only to Canada. In the Canada-US context, then, the Services and Investment Reservation will be ineffective in carving out US actions in relation to Indigenous groups whose traditional territory or inherent rights straddle the Canada-US border.Footnote 20 The United States has taken no comparable reservation-protecting measures related to Indigenous peoples.Footnote 21
CUSMA’s Services and Investment Reservation, like its predecessors, only applies to some Canadian treaty obligations:
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• Articles 14.4 and 15.3 on National Treatment: obligations to treat foreign investors (and their investments) and foreign services suppliers of the other treaty parties no less favourably than Canadian investors (and their investments) and services suppliers;
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• Articles 14.5 and 15.4 on Most-Favoured-Nation Treatment: obligations to treat foreign investors (and their investments) and foreign services suppliers of the other treaty parties no less favourably than other foreign investors (and their investments) and foreign services suppliers;
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• Article 14.10 on the Prohibition on Performance Requirements: an obligation not to impose requirements on foreign investors to do certain things (like meet minimum levels of local content in goods they produce) in connection with the “establishment, acquisition, expansion, management, conduct, operation, or sale or other disposition” of a foreign investment, or to condition the receipt of a benefit to an investor on some of these performance requirements;
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• Article 14.11 on the Prohibition on Nationality Requirements for Senior Management and Boards of Directors: an obligation not to impose requirements for senior management, or a majority of the Board of Directors of an investment business of a foreign investor of another treaty party, to have any particular nationality;
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• Article 15.6 on the Prohibition on Local Presence Requirements: an obligation not to require that a foreign services supplier of another treaty party have a local office or be a resident in Canada as a condition of allowing the services supplier to supply a service.Footnote 22
The main effect of CUSMA’s Services and Investment Reservation and similar reservations in other Canadian treaties is to avoid treaty conflicts related to Canadian measures that favour Indigenous peoples over foreign investors and services suppliers, whether in recognition of a right or otherwise.
None of Canada’s Services and Investment Reservations, however, insulates Canada’s actions from challenge under other provisions of Canadian trade agreements. Significantly, these reservations do not apply to the provisions in the investment chapters of Canadian trade agreements that prohibit expropriating foreign investors’ investments without compensation, or that require Canada to provide foreign investors with fair and equitable treatment.Footnote 23 Those treaty provisions have enabled the most successful claims by investors in investor-state arbitration under the investment provisions in trade and investment agreements, including Chapter 11 of NAFTA and stand-alone bilateral investment treaties.Footnote 24 As discussed below, CUSMA eliminates investor-state arbitration between US investors and Canada. But the substantive investor protection obligations still apply.Footnote 25
In one respect, however, the Services and Investment Reservations traditionally taken by Canada provide broader protection for Canadian measures than the IGE. The IGE is limited to measures fulfilling legal obligations to Indigenous peoples, while measures “conferring rights or preferences” that are permitted by the reservations do not necessarily flow from any legal obligation owed to Indigenous peoples.Footnote 26 A right or preference, such as a subsidy or incentive, would be insulated under the reservations even if not mandated by a legal obligation. As discussed below, in addition to the requirement for a legal obligation, the IGE chapeau imposes other requirements that must be satisfied before the exception is available. Those requirements do not apply to these reservations. Because its availability is not conditioned on satisfaction of these requirements, the Services and Investment Reservation taken by Canada in CUSMA represents an important complement to the IGE.
Two recent and important Canadian trade and investment treaties — CETA and the CPTPP — contain provisions relating to Indigenous peoples that are not found in other agreements and that are designed to give Canada additional flexibility regarding measures related to Indigenous peoples in specific circumstances. CUSMA provides equivalent flexibility. The chapters of CETA and the CPTPP establishing rules regarding government procurement of goods and services contain a reservation excluding all measures “adopted or maintained with respect to Aboriginal peoples” and “set asides for [A]boriginal businesses” from these rules. These carve-outs also clarify that “existing [A]boriginal or treaty rights” under section 35 of the Constitution Act, 1982 are “not affected” by the chapter’s obligations.Footnote 27 CUSMA takes a different approach. Its procurement chapter does not apply to Canada.Footnote 28 Instead, Canada’s procurement obligations to the United States and some other World Trade Organization (WTO) member countries are governed by the WTO’s General Agreement on Government Procurement. Footnote 29 Canada’s commitments under this agreement contain an exclusion identical to the reservations in CETA and the CPTPP.
CETA’s domestic regulation chapter “does not apply to licensing requirements, licensing procedures, qualification requirements, or qualification procedures … relating to … [A]boriginal affairs.”Footnote 30 This exclusion means that the chapter’s obligations regarding, for example, objective criteria for licencing decisions do not apply. This leaves government decision-makers more flexibility and discretion in licencing that may implicate Indigenous peoples. CETA’s domestic regulation chapter has no equivalent in Canadian agreements negotiated prior to CUSMA. Footnote 31 The Good Regulatory Practices chapter in CUSMA applies to regulations, but, for Canada, regulations do not include “a measure concerning … federal, provincial, territorial relations and agreements and relations with Aboriginal Peoples.”Footnote 32
Like the Services and Investment Reservation, these additional exclusions related to procurement and domestic regulation complement the IGE. Indeed, where they apply, these exclusions offer much more straightforward and predictable protection for a broad range of actions taken by Canadian governments in relation to Indigenous peoples. The limitations on Canadian reliance on the IGE are described in the following part.
Interpreting the Standard for Invoking the IGE
introduction
The scope of the IGE for Canada is defined by Canada’s “legal obligations” to Indigenous peoples. The meaning of this expression is addressed below. An important preliminary question, however, is whether Canada can unilaterally invoke the exception by asserting that its actions are necessary to fulfill these obligations. If it could, Canada would have significant flexibility to determine when and how to best accommodate its obligations. But if the application of the IGE depends on external, “objective” criteria, relying on the IGE is more problematic for Canada. At least in principle, Canada’s reliance on the IGE could be challenged by the United States or Mexico and, ultimately, become the subject of adjudication under CUSMA’s dispute settlement procedures. This prospect, in turn, could affect the willingness of Canada to rely on the IGE. Whether Canada can unilaterally invoke the IGE turns on how it is interpreted.
general approach to interpreting the ige
As a treaty provision, the IGE must be interpreted as mandated by the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties (VCLT) — in particular, Articles 31 and 32.Footnote 33 The prime directive in Article 31(1) is that a treaty be interpreted “in good faith in accordance with the ordinary meaning given to the terms of the treaty in their context and in light of its object and purpose.” For the purposes of this directive, the context includes the preamble and any annexes, as well as certain other agreements and actions involving the state parties. Additionally, interpreters must consider “any relevant rules of international law applicable in the relations between the parties” under Article 31(3)(c).Footnote 34 Under Article 32, an interpreter may also consider supplementary means of interpretation, such as the preparatory work related to the treaty.
The treaty context for the IGE warrants a few initial comments. The multiple Canadian reservations and exclusions regarding Indigenous peoples might be thought to reflect an intention that the treaty, including the IGE, should be interpreted to provide broad protection to measures related to Indigenous peoples, at least as far as Canada is concerned. But the IGE must be interpreted in the same manner for all parties, so it would not be appropriate to accord a distinctive, broader interpretation to the IGE solely for Canada.Footnote 35 Indeed, the many specific reservations for Canadian measures to benefit Indigenous peoples might suggest that a broad interpretation of the IGE is inappropriate. Where the parties intended to protect measures benefiting Indigenous peoples, they did so expressly and did not intend to rely on a broad interpretation of the IGE.Footnote 36 In sum, the presence of the Canadian reservations and exclusions does not seem to yield a clear interpretive direction, forcing the interpreter to closely consider the words and other relevant considerations, including CUSMA’s preamble.
CUSMA’s preamble contains a specific reference to Indigenous peoples: the parties “RECOGNIZE the importance of increased engagement by [I]ndigenous peoples in trade and investment.” The other eighteen statements in the preamble address a wide range of considerations but are dominated by statements related to increased trade and investment and economic cooperation. Cumulatively, the preamble may direct parties to interpret the treaty in a manner that promotes trade and investment, including the engagement of Indigenous peoples in trade and investment. The preamble’s role in informing the interpretation of the IGE would be limited to measures with this goal. Few Canadian measures related to Indigenous peoples, however, are likely to embody this goal. Canada will try to shelter measures under the IGE that are inconsistent with the trade and investment liberalization provisions in CUSMA. Thus, the preamble of CUSMA would not seem to provide much interpretive guidance, apart from discouraging a broad interpretation of the IGE to protect measures that impair trade or investment generally, except where those measures contribute to greater Indigenous engagement in trade and investment.
A more helpful source in the VCLT is the requirement to “take into account any relevant rules of international law applicable in the relations between the parties” in Article 31(3)(c). “Taking into account” does not mean that other rules of international law are part of the applicable law or that other international rules can displace the meaning of the treaty language being interpreted.Footnote 37 This provision is intended to ensure a degree of coherence between the interpretation of treaty language and other relevant international legal rules. This coherence has several aspects. A treaty should not be interpreted to permit a breach of another international legal obligation unless the words clearly require it. More significantly, other international rules may help clarify the meaning of a treaty provision and so encourage consistency across international obligations.Footnote 38
Consistent with Article 31(3)(c) of the VCLT, we consider the impact of relevant international legal rules applicable between Canada, the United States, and Mexico, focusing on the WTO Agreements. As will be seen, the IGE seems significantly inspired by language in Articles XX and XXI of the WTO’s General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) that create general exceptions for measures related to public policy areas like health and national security, respectively.Footnote 39 The interpretation of these provisions by WTO panels and the Appellate Body suggests how the IGE should be interpreted and, therefore, the circumstances in which Canada may invoke the IGE.
interpreting “deems necessary to fulfill its legal obligations to indigenous peoples”
Leaving aside momentarily the additional requirements of the IGE chapeau, the IGE exempts any action that Canada “deems necessary to fulfill its legal obligations to [I]ndigenous peoples” from treaty commitments. “[D]eems necessary to fulfill” could be interpreted numerous ways. For example, the expression might mean that Canada has an unreviewable discretion to determine whether the exception is available to shield its actions. Alternatively, it might mean that Canada’s reliance on the exception can be reviewed only to determine whether Canada invoked the IGE in good faith. Or, it might mean that Canada can only rely on the IGE where, objectively, Canada has a legal obligation to Indigenous peoples and the action taken is necessary to fulfill that obligation.
Offering a crude interpretation of the individual words, the Oxford English Dictionary defines the verb “deem” as “[t]o form the opinion, to be of the opinion; to judge, conclude, think, consider, hold.”Footnote 40 This definition and others do not illuminate except to suggest that the word “deems” in the IGE affords some discretion to determine what is “necessary to fulfill its legal obligations to Indigenous peoples.”Footnote 41 As discussed below, “deem” has been interpreted in other international treaty contexts to confer decision-making discretion. The question then becomes what it means to determine that a measure is “necessary” to fulfill a legal obligation. “Necessary” typically means “indispensable, vital, essential, requisite,”Footnote 42 which would suggest that a Canadian measure must be the only way for Canada to fulfill a particular obligation to benefit from the IGE. The interpretation of “necessary” in the trade and investment treaty context, however, has been somewhat more flexible.
The word “necessary” appears in both Article XX and Article XXI of the GATT. Footnote 43 As discussed below, the security exception in Article XXI provides the closest analogue to the operative part of the IGE. But we can usefully consider the meaning of “necessary” in Article XX, which has been the subject of much more analysis in WTO disputes. Following a chapeau like the IGE chapeau, Article XX provides, in part, that
nothing in this Agreement shall be construed to prevent the adoption or enforcement by any contracting party of measures:(a) necessary to protect public morals;(b) necessary to protect human, animal or plant life or health.
WTO panels and the Appellate Body have held that “necessary” in this article is not always equivalent to indispensable. Degrees of necessity are arrayed on a continuum between “indispensable,” on the one end, and “contributing to,” on the other. In determining where “necessary” falls in a particular case, WTO cases have required parties to consider:
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• the relative importance of the interests or policies furthered by the challenged measure;
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• the contribution of the measure to the protection of those interests or the successful achievement of those policies; and
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• the degree to which the measure restricts international trade.Footnote 44
According to the WTO’s Appellate Body, these three factors must be “weighed and balanced.”Footnote 45 To do so, the Appellate Body has said that a measure becomes easier to justify as “necessary” where the interests or policies furthered by the challenged measure are more importantFootnote 46 and the contribution of the measure to the protection of those interests or the successful achievement of those policies is greater.Footnote 47 But the more restrictive of international trade the measure is, the more difficult it will be to justify it as being “necessary.”Footnote 48 As part of this determination, the interpreter of Article XX of the GATT should consider the existence of “an alternative measure that would achieve the same end and that is less restrictive of trade.”Footnote 49 In practice, once the responding state seeking to protect a measure under Article XX has made a prima facie case that the measure is “necessary,” the complainant must identify a WTO-consistent alternative measure that is less restrictive and that the responding party could have taken.Footnote 50
Such a contextual approach is consistent with the interpretation of the expression “deems necessary” in other treaties. The expression “deems necessary” is found in many important international instruments. In the Charter of the United Nations (UN Charter), Article 40 empowers the United Nations Security Council, before making recommendations or deciding upon measures to address “any threat to the peace, breach of the peace or act of aggression,” to “call upon the parties concerned to comply with such provisional measures as it deems necessary or desirable.”Footnote 51 Article 51 confirms the Security Council’s power to take any action that it “deems necessary in order to maintain or restore international peace and security,” despite any measure taken by member countries in the exercise of their right to self-defence. Most states accept that these provisions afford the Security Council a broad discretion to decide what is necessary. The exercise of the Security Council’s discretion to decide what is necessary must be guided by the purposes of the UN Charter, subject to a requirement that “the impact [of the measures chosen] is not manifestly out of proportion to the aims pursued.”Footnote 52 Thus, consistent with the approach taken by the WTO’s Appellate Body, the Security Council does not have to decide that its measures are indispensable; it must decide that the impact of its measures is proportionate to their aims.
The meaning of “deems necessary” in the IGE may also be subject to a contextual interpretation. Whether a measure is necessary to fulfill Canada’s legal obligations to Indigenous peoples might not mean that the measure is the only measure available. Rather, the expression might refer to the importance of the obligation and the measure’s effectiveness in fulfilling it outweighing the measure’s impact on trade and investment. But the more important question is Canada’s latitude in deciding what it “deems necessary” to fulfill its legal obligations to Indigenous peoples. The answer to this question will determine whether and on what basis Canada’s reliance on the IGE could be challenged by the United States or Mexico and, ultimately, reviewed by a CUSMA dispute settlement panel. A similar interpretive challenge confronted a WTO panel established in 2017 to hear Ukraine’s complaint that Russia breached its WTO obligations by restricting the transit of Ukrainian goods through Russia to Kazakhstan.Footnote 53 The approach adopted in that decision could be applied to interpret the IGE.
the approach to interpreting gatt article xxi in russia – transit
In Russia – Transit, Russia claimed that the panel lacked jurisdiction to hear Ukraine’s complaint because Russia could rely on the security exception in Article XXI(b)(iii) of the GATT. In relevant part, Article XXI provides as follows:
Nothing in this Agreement shall be construed …
(b) to prevent any contracting party from taking any action which it considers necessary for the protection of its essential security interests …
(iii) taken in time of war or other emergency in international relations.Footnote 54
Russia argued that the words “any action which it considers necessary” rendered its actions “immune from scrutiny by a WTO dispute settlement panel” once it invoked the exception.Footnote 55 The United States supported Russia’s position. The panel found, however, that it could review Russia’s reliance on the exception and proceeded to explain the nature of that review. First, the panel decided that the words “it considers necessary” did not qualify the situations spelled out in subparagraph (ii) — that is, whether the action was “taken in time of war or other emergency in international relations.” The panel had to determine on an objective basis whether an “emergency in international relations” existed and, if so, whether Russia’s actions were taken during that emergency. Ultimately, the panel was satisfied that relations between Ukraine and Russia did constitute an emergency in international relations and that Russia’s measures were taken “in time” with respect to that emergency.Footnote 56
Second, the panel assessed whether paragraph (b) of Article XXI should be interpreted as permitting Russia to determine its “essential security interests” and when an action was “necessary” to protect them. The panel decided that the provision afforded Russia that discretion. In exercising its discretion, Russia had only to act in good faith, meaning, at minimum, not intending to circumvent its obligations.Footnote 57 In the panel’s view, this good faith requirement also meant that Russia had to “articulate essential security interests said to arise from the emergency in international relations sufficiently enough to demonstrate their veracity” and that the “the measures at issue meet a minimum requirement of plausibility in relation to the proffered essential security interests.”Footnote 58 In the end, the panel concluded that Russia had satisfied these requirements and could rely on the exception.Footnote 59
Of course, the approach adopted in that case is not directly applicable to the interpretation of the IGE. Significantly, the language of Article XXI of the GATT differs from that of the IGE. As well, the panel’s conclusions in the Russia – Transit case relied on the travaux préparatoires related to the negotiation of the GATT in 1947. Obviously, those documents have no bearing on CUSMA’s interpretation.Footnote 60 Nevertheless, given their similarity, the words “deems necessary” in the IGE might be interpreted in the same way as “considers necessary” in Article XXI of the GATT. Footnote 61 As such, the approach adopted by the panel in the Russia – Transit case presents one possible vantage point from which to approach the IGE.
applying the approach to interpreting gatt article xxi in russia – transit to the ige
If the Russia – Transit panel’s approach applied to the IGE, Canada could decide whether its actions were necessary to fulfill its legal obligations to Indigenous peoples, subject only to a requirement to act in good faith. That would mean that Canada: (1) could not invoke the IGE for a purpose other than fulfilling a legal obligation to Indigenous peoples and (2) would have to make out some plausible connection between the action taken and the obligation. To demonstrate a plausible connection, Canada would have to describe the obligation and explain how the measure fulfilled it. A CUSMA dispute settlement panel could review whether Canada satisfied the good faith and related plausible connection requirements if the United States or Mexico challenged its reliance on the IGE.
Not clear, however, is whether the Russia – Transit approach would mean that Canada could unilaterally determine the existence and characterization of the legal obligation compelling its action. The Russia – Transit panel’s conclusion that Russia could decide what its “essential security interests” required was influenced by the nature of the concept of “essential security interests,” which the panel characterized as follows:
7.131. The specific interests that are considered directly relevant to the protection of a state from such external or internal threats will depend on the particular situation and perceptions of the state in question, and can be expected to vary with changing circumstances. For these reasons, it is left, in general, to every Member to define what it considers to be its essential security interests.
By contrast, the IGE refers to “legal obligations,” which are more susceptible to objective assessment than “essential security interests.” Whether Canada has a legal obligation in the first place and what it requires might have to be determined on an objective basis. If so, Canada’s assessment in this regard could be reviewed in dispute settlement under CUSMA. A good faith assertion of what the obligation requires would not be enough.
In short, reliance on the IGE is not wholly within Canada’s discretion. At a minimum, that reliance is likely subject to an obligation to act in good faith, including a requirement that the measure not be a façade for some other purpose. To demonstrate good faith, Canada may have to plausibly connect its action to the fulfillment of a legal obligation. Canada might also have to establish the existence and nature of a “legal obligation to [I]ndigenous peoples” on an objective basis. The additional language of the IGE chapeau further qualifies the availability of the exception.
interpreting the ige chapeau
The IGE is limited by the words in its chapeau: “Provided that such measures are not used as a means of arbitrary or unjustified discrimination against persons of the other Parties or as a disguised restriction on trade in goods, services, and investment.” Trade treaty general exceptions frequently use similar language, which can be traced back to Article XX of the GATT. Footnote 62 Versions of the GATT Article XX chapeau’s wording appear in the general exception provisions of Canada’s model Foreign Investment Promotion and Protection Agreement and many bilateral investment treaties and trade treaties worldwide.Footnote 63 The CPTPP’s exception for New Zealand measures that grant more favourable treatment to Māori contains identical language.Footnote 64 Undoubtedly, the chapeau of Article XX of the GATT was the inspiration for the IGE’s language.
What is the effect of the IGE chapeau? It must be understood to limit recourse to the exception in some way. While we cannot fully address WTO decisions on the chapeau in Article XX of the GATT, some elements of the WTO approach help explain how the IGE chapeau might be interpreted.Footnote 65 The WTO’s Appellate Body has consistently decided that the GATT chapeau was intended to prevent “abuse or misuse” of the Article XX exceptions. Those exceptions permit state actions to achieve enumerated public policy objectives, such as the protection of health, safety, and the environment, where they would otherwise be contrary to the GATT. Footnote 66 According to the Appellate Body, this characterization requires the interpreter to first determine whether the exception is available based on one of the enumerated public policy categories before considering the chapeau’s application.Footnote 67 In the context of the IGE, this approach would require the interpreter to decide that the action taken was a “measure deemed necessary [by Canada] to fulfill its legal obligations to [I]ndigenous peoples” before considering whether the IGE chapeau’s requirements are met.Footnote 68
With respect to its effect, the Appellate Body has said that the GATT chapeau expresses the general principle of good faith.Footnote 69 Following this approach, the IGE chapeau confirms, in a seemingly duplicative way, the interpretation suggested above, requiring Canada to act in good faith in relying on the IGE. With respect to the substantive requirement of the IGE, however, the focus is on whether Canada acted in good faith in asserting that its actions were taken to fulfill a legal obligation to Indigenous peoples. The IGE chapeau requires an enquiry into whether Canada acted in good faith in applying the measure.Footnote 70 The IGE chapeau identifies two specific criteria that must both be met in that regard. The first is that a measure cannot be “used as a means of arbitrary or unjustified discrimination against persons of the other Parties.” To assess this criterion, one must first identify some discriminatory effect, meaning different and less favourable treatment of individual nationals or enterprises of another state party compared to similarly situated nationals or enterprises of the allegedly offending party or another state.Footnote 71 If the party seeking to rely on the exception has discriminated against persons of the United States or Mexico, the enquiry shifts to whether the discrimination is arbitrary or unjustified.
In interpreting the GATT chapeau, the WTO’s Appellate Body has held that a measure might breach the substantive non-discrimination obligations in the GATT but not be arbitrary or unjustified.Footnote 72 Assessing whether a measure is arbitrary or unjustified would seem to require considering whether any rationale justifies the measure’s discriminatory effect.Footnote 73 Where no such rationale exists, the measure is arbitrary or unjustified.Footnote 74 If a state invokes a rationale, the question becomes whether the rationale is sufficiently compelling to justify the discrimination.Footnote 75 What kind of discrimination might violate the IGE chapeau’s requirements? Impermissible action might include discrimination connected to actions alleged to breach the two most important obligations in CUSMA’s investment chapter: the prohibition of expropriation without compensation and fair and equitable treatment.Footnote 76 For example, if a foreign investor alleged that an expropriation of its property was discriminatory because a similarly situated domestic investor’s property was not expropriated, reliance on the IGE chapeau would depend on the absence of arbitrary and unjustifiable discrimination. Canada would have to demonstrate a public policy rationale and justify the discrimination. Canada’s position could be challenged by the other state parties, possibly in a formal dispute under the treaty where a panel would determine whether Canada’s measure was sufficiently justified. The IGE chapeau cannot plausibly be interpreted to allow Canada to unilaterally decide whether it violates the “arbitrary or unjustified discrimination” prohibition.
The second criterion in the IGE chapeau prohibits parties from using a measure “as a disguised restriction on trade in goods, services, and investment.”Footnote 77 Few cases have considered the similar criterion in the chapeau of Article XX of the GATT. Lorand Bartels argues that the criterion should be interpreted as applying to measures “for which an ostensibly legitimate purpose is merely a ‘disguise’ for an improper purpose.”Footnote 78 Rather than measures adopted for no legitimate purpose, which would either be arbitrary or in bad faith, Bartels argues that disguised restrictions are measures adopted for a mixture of legitimate and illegitimate purposes.Footnote 79 He notes that adopting his approach would require a WTO panel to decide the relative significance of the legitimate and illegitimate purposes to determine whether the measure was a disguised restriction on trade.
In applying Bartels’ approach to the IGE, a measure would violate the second criterion of the IGE chapeau if it had an illegitimate purpose that restricted trade in goods, services, and investment in addition to the legitimate purpose of fulfilling a Canadian legal obligation to Indigenous peoples. As discussed, before the IGE chapeau became relevant, the interpreter would have already found that Canada had a legal obligation and acted in good faith in deciding that the measure was necessary to fulfill the obligation. The interpreter would have found that Canada had shown some plausible connection between the measure and the fulfillment of the obligation. Presumably, this would be considered a legitimate purpose. The measure would only be a “disguised restriction” if the measure had an illegitimate second purpose and it was more significant for the state than the legitimate purpose. In such a case, the legitimate purpose would be a disguise. But, in such a situation, an interpreter might plausibly have found that Canada did not act in good faith in the first place.
interpreting the ige chapeau: an example
To illustrate the approach described above and the challenges it raises, consider the following example. Suppose that a Canadian province enacted a measure to fulfill a legal obligation recognizing an Indigenous group’s title to territory. The measure excludes anyone but that group from managing commercial activity in the territory. Assume that the provincial measure was also intended to benefit a Canadian business with which the group had partnered to develop eco-tourism on the land. Assume further that this benefit disadvantaged an American investor.Footnote 80 Imagine, for example, that the American investor had invested substantial time and money in developing a proposal for an eco-tourism business of its own and was seeking provincial environmental approvals, all of which would be made moot by the provincial measure. Finally, assume the Canadian courts had recognized Indigenous title over the territory, meaning the provincial government had a legal obligation, and the province acted in good faith in deciding that its measure was necessary to fulfill it.
While a discriminatory effect flows from the measure, one might say that the discrimination cannot be described as arbitrary or unjustified because the province had a legitimate and important purpose: recognizing Indigenous title. This conclusion, however, conflates the first requirement of the IGE chapeau with the IGE’s basic requirement that Canada act in good faith in undertaking the measure to fulfill a legal obligation to Indigenous people rather than for some other purpose. If this conclusion is correct, satisfying the “deems necessary to fulfill a legal obligation to [I]ndigenous peoples” requirement would automatically satisfy the first requirement of the IGE chapeau. Accordingly, some further enquiry would be needed in regard to whether the discrimination in applying the measure (rather than the measure itself) was arbitrary or unjustified. That enquiry could include asking whether the discrimination was an unavoidable consequence of the measure or could have been reasonably avoided or whether the province had taken steps to avoid or mitigate the discriminatory effect, such as by offering compensation to the foreign investor. The facts of this imagined scenario do not address these considerations. However, a conclusion that the measure does not constitute arbitrary or unjustified discrimination is supported by the fact that the measure does not require the discriminatory effect. Rather, the Indigenous group’s sovereign decision to partner with the Canadian business to the exclusion of the US investor created that effect.
Regarding the second requirement of the IGE chapeau in this scenario, two purposes drive the measure — one that is legitimate (the recognition of Aboriginal title) and the other that is arguably illegitimate (extinguishing the US investor’s rights in favour of the Canadian business’ interest).Footnote 81 Under Bartels’ approach, if the United States challenged the measure and the matter went to a panel, the panel would have to decide whether the illegitimate purpose was sufficiently important in motivating the measure that it would be considered a disguised restriction on trade in goods, services, and investment. If so, the measure would be prohibited. Divining and weighing such intentions behind a government action will be a daunting and uncertain task.Footnote 82 But, more importantly, recall that this requirement of the IGE chapeau should only arise after a panel has determined that Canada has acted in good faith to fulfill a legitimate purpose: a legal obligation to Indigenous peoples. Accordingly, the circumstances in which a measure will have a sufficiently important illegitimate purpose to render it a disguised restriction on trade in goods, services, and investment are likely to be rare.
interpreting “this agreement does not preclude”
The simplest interpretive issue with respect to the IGE is the meaning of the phrase “this Agreement does not preclude” Canada from adopting or maintaining a measure that meets the requirements of the IGE, as discussed earlier. Similar wording in other exception provisions has been interpreted to provide a defence to a state action that would otherwise be a breach of the treaty if the exception’s substantive requirements have been met. In some cases, the wording is treated as a permission to engage in the conduct permitted by the exception, placing the conduct outside the scope of the treaty’s prohibitions.Footnote 83 Important implications flow from whether the provision is a defence or a permission. For example, an exception only becomes relevant after a breach of the treaty has been found. A permission’s application should be considered as a preliminary question of the tribunal’s jurisdiction to hear a claim that a substantive treaty obligation has been breached.Footnote 84 A discussion of the nature of the IGE in this regard is beyond the scope of this article. In either case, however, the IGE would protect a Canadian government measure that meets the requirements from challenge under the treaty.
summary and preliminary conclusions regarding the interpretation of the ige
Whether Canada can rely on the IGE with respect to a particular measure depends on how the exception is interpreted. Based on the foregoing analysis, the IGE will not allow Canada to unilaterally determine what actions are necessary to fulfill its legal obligations to Indigenous peoples. The United States and Mexico could challenge Canada’s reliance on the IGE, and, ultimately, whether reliance on the IGE is permitted in a particular case could be determined by a state-to-state dispute settlement panel under the treaty. Given the prospects for such a review, Canada would have to determine whether the requirements suggested above are met in assessing whether a measure would be protected by the IGE.
Exactly how the IGE should be interpreted, however, is not entirely clear. By protecting any “measure [Canada] deems necessary to fulfill its legal obligations to [I]ndigenous peoples,” the IGE does accord Canada significant discretion to decide what its legal obligations are and what actions are necessary to fulfill them. But the Russia – Transit case, which dealt with a similar broad grant of discretion in Article XXI of the GATT, suggests that such discretion is not unlimited. The approach adopted in Russia – Transit would require Canada to act in good faith to rely on the IGE, meaning that Canada’s measure could not be adopted or maintained for a purpose other than the fulfillment of a legal obligation to Indigenous peoples. Showing good faith would require Canada to describe some plausible connection between its measure and the fulfillment of a legal obligation, meaning that Canada would have to describe the obligation and explain how its measure fulfilled it. The existence and nature of the “legal obligation to [I]ndigenous peoples,” however, might have to be established on an objective basis. In other words, Canada ultimately might have to convince a dispute settlement panel of the existence and nature of the legal obligation, rather than simply show the panel that it was acting in good faith in identifying the obligation and characterizing its effects.
The existence of a good faith requirement is confirmed by the IGE chapeau, but this provision imposes additional requirements. It limits the availability of the IGE in specific ways by requiring that, to be protected by the exception, a Canadian measure cannot constitute “arbitrary or unjustified discrimination” or be a “disguised restriction” on trade in goods, services, and investment. The first condition would seem to require Canada to provide a rationale that justifies any discriminatory effect of its measure. Applying Bartels’ approach, as described above, the second condition would become relevant if Canada had demonstrated some illegitimate purpose for its action that restricted trade in goods, services, and investment in addition to the legitimate purpose of fulfilling a legal obligation to Indigenous peoples. Canada would then have to show that the illegitimate purpose was not sufficiently significant compared to the legitimate purpose of fulfilling a legal obligation. If not, the measure could be considered a disguised restriction on trade in goods, services, and investment.
While this suggested approach might seem disconcertingly abstract and complex, it is consistent with the language of the IGE. Even if the analysis above is not fully adopted, the main conclusion that Canada cannot unilaterally decide what the IGE requires is hard to resist. The United States and Mexico could challenge Canada’s reliance on the IGE, possibly leading to a decision by a dispute settlement panel established under the agreement. Canada would have to consider that possibility in taking any action that relied on the exception. Such an assessment might limit the circumstances in which Canada would act in reliance on the IGE, encouraging a “chilling effect.”
The nature of these concerns is set out in more detail in the following parts. Various factors, however, mitigate the risks associated with a challenge to Canada’s reliance on the IGE in practice. Before turning to these concerns and mitigating factors, however, we discuss the obligations that Canada owes to Indigenous peoples because these define the IGE’s substantive scope.
Scope of the Exception
introduction
Regardless of the standard for invoking the IGE, its scope is defined by Canada’s “legal obligations to Indigenous peoples.” CUSMA provides that Canadian obligations include, but are not limited to, those rights that are recognized and affirmed by section 35 of the Constitution Act, 1982 and those rights contained in self-government agreements between Canadian governments and Indigenous peoples.Footnote 85 As explained below, determining the existence, nature, and content of these specific obligations is a complex and evolving process. Indigenous peoples in Canada have been engaged in a continuous struggle to assert rights and have them recognized and affirmed in Canadian courts and respected by Canadian governments. At present, courts — particularly, the Supreme Court of Canada — play a significant role in defining constitutionally protected rights and creating rules around rights recognition in that context.
The IGE expressly states that it is not limited to constitutionally protected rights. Other obligations almost certainly include Canada’s obligations under other international rules, including international treaties to which Canada is a party as well as customary international law.Footnote 86 Canada’s international legal obligations in relation to Indigenous peoples extend across a wide range of subject areas from human rights to cultural property and traditional knowledge. If “legal obligations” in the IGE embrace general Canadian international obligations, such as basic human rights obligations, which obviously extend to Indigenous peoples, the range of legal obligations enabling recourse to the IGE could be extremely broad.Footnote 87 Domestic Canadian statutory obligations to Indigenous peoples, such as those under the Indian Act,Footnote 88 could also be included as well as obligations based in Indigenous law.Footnote 89
In the following subparts, we sketch out some of Canada’s constitutional obligations that are expressly covered by the IGE. This discussion helps explore the content of the exception and illuminate some of the challenges and concerns with its application.
context and history
Canada owes obligations to a diversity of Indigenous nations and peoples. Any descriptions and identifications of these nations and peoples, other than those generated by Indigenous peoples themselves, are inevitably imprecise and reflect colonial thinking.Footnote 90 We offer the information below simply to afford a sense of the breadth of Indigenous groups to whom the government is obligated. According to recent government figures, approximately 1.67 million people in Canada identify as “Aboriginal,” a broad term that can refer to “First Nations,” Inuit, or Métis people and peoples.Footnote 91 “First Nations” refers to “Aboriginal” people who are neither Inuit nor Métis, and, within this first category alone, the government estimates more than 630 groups speaking fifty different languages.Footnote 92 As noted earlier, the term “Aboriginal” is used in the Constitution Act, 1982, and the federal government often uses this term for that reason; “Indigenous,” however, is the more commonly used term domestically and internationally.Footnote 93
The specific obligations owed to diverse Indigenous collectives are complicated and evolving, but largely stem from colonialism and assumed Crown sovereignty. The 1763 Royal Proclamation placed the CrownFootnote 94 between settlers and Indigenous peoples and required Indigenous peoples to “cede” land directly to the Crown rather than to settlers. The Royal Proclamation also asserted that the transfer of land would be predicated on mutually negotiated treaties and that relations between settlers and Indigenous peoples would be premised on respect for the latter’s internal sovereignty.Footnote 95 Many Indigenous nations did not perceive the treaty process as involving the “surrender” of land; rather, they continue to view treaties as agreements intended to guide mutually beneficial and respectful relationships.Footnote 96 The Crown’s one-sided view of treaties as land cession agreements with minimal Indigenous rights has often marred treaty relationships and implementation.Footnote 97 In some areas of Canada, the Crown ushered in settlement and development without first negotiating treaties at all.Footnote 98 In other areas, sparse treaties were made under circumstances of privation. Julie Jai, for example, speaks to post-Confederation treaties that “allegedly surrendered land [and that] were signed during this … period when Indigenous populations had been decimated by European diseases, wars, loss of wildlife which they relied upon, and settler pressures for the best agricultural land.”Footnote 99 Colonial governments became increasingly disrespectful and expedient in their quest for land, treating Indigenous peoples as far less than equal partners in the treaty relationship.Footnote 100 Settlement led not only to loss of territory but also to disease, death, and the imposition of external control within Indigenous nations.Footnote 101 Insidious racism informed and compounded the effects of colonial policy.Footnote 102
In this context of increasing antagonism and racism towards Indigenous peoples, the legal force of treaties was often ignored, and the Crown disregarded their terms. As well, Indigenous rights could be and were nullified by legislative enactment under Canada’s system of parliamentary supremacy. The Constitution Act, 1867, which united British colonies into the Dominion of Canada, simultaneously excluded Indigenous peoples from shared political power and made them and their lands a subject of federal legislative authority.Footnote 103 That power has been primarily articulated in the Indian Act, a section of which maintains the obligation of surrendering Indigenous land to the Crown.Footnote 104 The Act purports to define status and identity in ways that do not necessarily coincide with the self-definition of all Indigenous peoples. The Act also authorized the indescribably destructive residential school system, the societal effects of which persist even after the closure of the state- and church-run institutions.Footnote 105
The foregoing is a non-exhaustive history and list of colonial harms. This description points to why and how the Crown is now compelled to act remedially and to prioritize commitments to Indigenous peoples. And it helps to explain the risk of subjecting those remedial and evolving commitments to adjudication by a trade panel. Some of Canada’s commitments to Indigenous peoples were constitutionalized in 1982 as rights. While constitutional recognition was significant, the intent of Indigenous representatives was always to negotiate the scope of Aboriginal rights protection with Canadian governments.Footnote 106 Negotiations foundered, and, ultimately, the Canadian courts have defined many Aboriginal and treaty rights. The courts have inevitably engaged in this task piecemeal, dealing with cases as they arrive before them, while often urging government and Indigenous parties to negotiate and determine rights in political fora.Footnote 107 Cases incrementally change the scope of rights as do negotiations around modern land claim agreements.
indigenous rights as defined by the canadian courts
Thus far, courts have interpreted Aboriginal rights under section 35(1) of the Constitution Act, 1982 as protecting a fairly narrow range of activities said to be “integral to [an Indigenous group’s] distinctive culture.”Footnote 108 The Supreme Court of Canada’s Van der Peet test for Aboriginal rights recognition is notoriously difficult for Indigenous parties, given the Court’s evidentiary and other requirements.Footnote 109 Van der Peet requires rights claimants to demonstrate that a claimed right “be an element of a practice, custom or tradition integral to the distinctive culture of the aboriginal group claiming the right.”Footnote 110 The claimed practice must be of central significance to that group; former Chief Justice Antonio Lamer explained that, without that practice, the group would be significantly altered.Footnote 111 The practice in issue must have continuity with pre-European contact practice, placing a heavy evidentiary burden on the claimant. Many have vociferously criticized the test and its burdens.Footnote 112 In those cases where rights claimants have succeeded, judges have generally recognized narrow, site-specific fishing, hunting, trapping, and other cultivation rights as Aboriginal rights;Footnote 113 commercial rights relating to any of these activities have been even more narrowly construed.Footnote 114
Treaty rights vary depending on the content of the underlying agreement. The Supreme Court of Canada has enumerated a list of distinctive treaty interpretation principles guiding the review of historic treaties. Speaking to a post-Confederation treaty in R. v Badger, Justice Peter Cory pointed to the solemn and sacred nature of treaty promises. The Crown must act honourably and refrain from “sharp dealings.” Ambiguous language is resolved in favour of the Indigenous party and limitations on Indigenous signatories’ rights are narrowly interpreted.Footnote 115 Numerous other cases speak to this “large and liberal” interpretive approach.Footnote 116 Cases involving historic treaties have interpreted these instruments as guaranteeing fishing, hunting, trapping, and other resource cultivation rights, albeit narrow ones.Footnote 117
Modern treatiesFootnote 118 and land claim agreements contain a broader and more specific range of rights and obligations. These treaties and agreements purport to involve the surrender of larger title claims in exchange for defined territory and specific rights. Newer agreements often include some form of power sharing between Indigenous and territorial or provincial governments, at least in specified subject areas.Footnote 119 Pursuant to the 1997 Little Salmon/Carmacks First Nation Final Agreement,Footnote 120 for example, Indigenous signatories
surrendered all undefined Aboriginal rights, title, and interests in [their] traditional territory in return for which [they] received:
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• title to 2,589 square kilometres of “settlement land” [Chapters 9 and 15];
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• financial compensation of $34,179,210 [Chapter 19];
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• potential for royalty sharing [Chapter 23];
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• economic development measures [Chapter 22];
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• rights of access to Crown land (except that disposed of by agreement for sale, surface licence, or lease) [Chapter 6];
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• special management areas [Chapter 10];
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• protection of access to settlement land [s. 6.2.7];
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• rights to harvest fish and wildlife [Chapter 16];
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• rights to harvest forest resources [Chapter 17];
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• rights to representation and involvement in land use planning [Chapter 11] and resource management [Chapters 14, 16–18].Footnote 121
The Supreme Court of Canada has adopted a different interpretive posture around these newer, lengthier, and more detailed agreements, preferring to defer to the language of the document but still holding the Crown to expectations of honourable conduct, discussed in more detail below.Footnote 122
Title is a specific genre of “Aboriginal” right, recognized only once by the Supreme Court.Footnote 123 In Tsilhqot’in Nation v British Columbia, the Court explained that title protects a broad scope of rights within it, including possession, land use management, and the right to profit from the land.Footnote 124 If title is proven — typically after an onerous legal proceeding — the Crown might have to reassess or cancel earlier decisions if those decisions would infringe on title rights and cannot be justified.Footnote 125 Brad Morse describes the unceded territory in Canada where resource companies operating on Crown leases or licenses could be affected by title claims as including
the vast majority of British Columbia, … areas in the southern Yukon and southern Northwest Territories, the Ottawa Valley, southern Quebec (from the Labrador and New Brunswick borders to Ontario south of the James Bay and Northern Quebec Agreement and Northeastern Agreement boundaries), southern Labrador, and arguably all three Maritime provinces as well as the island of Newfoundland.Footnote 126
Regardless of the type of constitutional right involved, however, Aboriginal law doctrine allows governments to justify infringements. The Supreme Court has stated that governments may justifiably infringe any rights, including title, for such purposes as resource conservation, agriculture, hydro power generation, and settlement.Footnote 127 Justifiable infringement will turn, in part, on whether the government upholds Indigenous peoples’ priority access to resources “after valid conservation measures have been implemented.”Footnote 128
The foregoing discussion has sketched out just some of the kinds of constitutional rights and some corresponding obligations that are recognized in Canadian case law: inherent Aboriginal rights, treaty rights, and title. But this is an incomplete statement of obligations. For instance, the Crown owes Indigenous parties a fiduciary duty when it “assumes discretionary control over specific [Indigenous] interests.”Footnote 129 That duty would apply when an Indigenous group transfers land to the Crown.Footnote 130 Fiduciary and other duties find their root in the Crown’s broader obligation to act “honourably” in all of its dealings with Indigenous peoples as a consequence of its unilateral assertion of sovereignty.Footnote 131 The overarching principle of the “Honour of the Crown” takes different shapes in different contexts, animating the particular interpretation and discharge of Aboriginal and treaty rights, as discussed, and the duty of consultation.Footnote 132
The duty of consultation warrants further elaboration. The duty requires the Crown to consult with affected Indigenous groups when it contemplates actions that could adversely affect asserted or proven rights and interests, including treaty rights and title.Footnote 133 The Crown’s specific responsibilities vary according to the nature and strength of the Indigenous right asserted.Footnote 134 The Supreme Court of Canada has located the duty on a spectrum; contemplated conduct with fewer, or less intense, impacts on rights could require mere notice to the affected group.Footnote 135 In Tsilhqot’in, the Court clarified that consultation in the context of established title — the “biggest” right under section 35 — could require the consent of the affected Indigenous group before action is taken on the territory.Footnote 136 In Rio Tinto Alcan v Carrier Sekani Tribal Council,Footnote 137 the Supreme Court clarified that actual or contemplated Crown action sufficient to trigger consultation includes “strategic, higher level decisions” (or, at paragraph 47, “structural changes to the resource’s management”) such as
the transfer of tree licences which would have permitted the cutting of old-growth forest (Haida Nation); the approval of a multi-year forest management plan for a large geographic area (Klahoose First Nation v. Sunshine Coast Forest District (District Manager) …); the establishment of a review process for a major gas pipeline (Dene Tha’ First Nation v. Canada (Minister of Environment) …); and the conduct of a comprehensive inquiry to determine a province’s infrastructure and capacity needs for electricity transmission (An Inquiry into British Columbia’s Electricity Transmission Infrastructure & Capacity Needs for the Next 30 Years, Re …). We leave for another day the question of whether government conduct includes legislative action: see R. v. Lefthand…. Footnote 138
The Court explained that a contractual shift in management, for example, might transfer decision-making power to a third party, diminishing the Crown’s capacity to ensure resource development in a way that respects section 35 rights.Footnote 139 Carrier Sekani also underlined the need for a “causal” relationship between the Crown’s conduct and the adverse effect on the Indigenous right in question — the connection cannot be “speculative.”Footnote 140
Many Indigenous nations and groups have expressed intense frustration with consultation doctrine. The doctrine is viewed as being common law oriented, one-sided, and tilted towards the project’s inevitable approval.Footnote 141 The Crown, many say, treats consultation as a pro forma obligation that inevitably leads to project approval. And, while touted as a dialogue, consultation often disregards Indigenous laws and decision-making processes.Footnote 142
the impact of the united nations declaration on the rights of indigenous peoples ( undrip )
Perceived failings in section 35 doctrine, including consultation, and the Crown’s approach to its relational duties, have led many to call for the full domestic implementation of the UNDRIP. Footnote 143 The UNDRIP underlines Indigenous peoples’ right to self-determination, tying that right to territorial sovereignty and explicitly linking these concepts to participatory decision-making.Footnote 144
Numerous UNDRIP articles speak to consultative processes, using language that suggests a process that is more inclusive of Indigenous law and autonomy, including, for example,
Article 19 — States shall consult and cooperate in good faith with the [I]ndigenous peoples concerned through their own representative institutions in order to obtain their free, prior and informed consent before adopting and implementing legislative or administrative measures that may affect them …Article 32(2) — States shall consult and cooperate in good faith with the [I]ndigenous peoples concerned through their own representative institutions in order to obtain their free and informed consent prior to the approval of any project affecting their lands or territories and other resources, particularly in connection with the development, utilization or exploitation of mineral, water or other resources.Footnote 145
Debate surrounds the meaning of many UNDRIP provisions, but the UNDRIP certainly offers stronger substantive and participatory rights for Indigenous peoples than what Canadian governments and courts currently recognize. The UNDRIP’s stronger guarantees would likely affect projects implicating land and resource use.Footnote 146 In the narrow frame of the current discussion, we offer some thoughts on the UNDRIP’s legal effects in Canada since they would affect “obligations” for the purposes of the IGE.
Parliament has recently reintroduced legislation regarding the UNDRIP at the federal level. Clause 4 of the bill describes the legislation’s purpose as “affirm[ing] the Declaration as a universal human rights instrument with application in Canadian law; and provid[ing] a framework for the Government of Canada’s implementation of the Declaration.”Footnote 147 British Columbia has made somewhat firmer progress, recently enacting the Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples Act (DRIPA).Footnote 148 The DRIPA raises some important questions in terms of how it could interact with the IGE. The precise legal effect of the new provincial law is an open question.Footnote 149 The new legislation does not clearly state that it “implements” the UNDRIP: the title does not refer to implementation, although a listed purpose is to “contribute” to the UNDRIP’s implementation.Footnote 150 Consistent with international bodies’ requirements,Footnote 151 the DRIPA requires an action plan to implement the UNDRIP and requires a government to report on its progress. But that language again underscores that the UNDRIP is not immediately and fully incorporated into provincial law.Footnote 152 The DRIPA “affirm[s] the application of [the UNDRIP] to the laws of British Columbia” and requires that the government align provincial laws with UNDRIP, in consultation with Indigenous peoples.Footnote 153 This last requirement seems consistent with Article 38 of the UNDRIP, which requires “States in consultation and cooperation with [I]ndigenous peoples, [to] take the appropriate measures, including legislative measures, to achieve the ends of this Declaration.”
We raise the question of the DRIPA’s effect only to determine whether the Act creates binding obligations on the BC government to comply with the declaration. If it does, Kerry Wilkins might describe the result as statutory rights, rather than constitutional ones.Footnote 154 Statutory rights, though more ephemeral than constitutional rights, nonetheless denote “legal” obligations. CUSMA’s text explains that Canada’s legal obligations “include,” but are not limited to, respecting rights under section 35. But what precisely does the DRIPA oblige? If the Act does not create binding and enforceable obligations against the government but, rather, speaks to progressive realization, would measures taken pursuant to the statute be protected under the IGE?
Imagine amendments to British Columbia’s project approval legislation that required approval only with “free, prior and informed consent” of affected groups, as required by Article 32(2) of the UNDRIP. Assume, at a minimum, that such consent requires Indigenous participation beyond current Canadian legal consultative requirements. That enhanced collaboration might involve longer time frames for Indigenous groups to reflect on proposals pursuant to their own laws and procedures. If the United States or Mexico were to claim that the imposition of these new time frames breaches Canada’s CUSMA obligation to give fair and equitable treatment to their investors, could Canada then rely on the IGE to protect the provincial law? Would measures like those taken under the BC legislation to contribute to the progressive realization of the UNDRIP be shielded by the IGE? The answer is unclear.Footnote 155
canada’s evolving legal obligations to indigenous peoples
This discussion of the UNDRIP illustrates only one way in which Canadian legal obligations to Indigenous peoples have evolved. This evolution raises other distinct issues in the context of the IGE. Accepted principles of treaty interpretation require that the language of most commitments and obligations in trade agreements be interpreted as of the moment the treaty is concluded.Footnote 156 Under this view, Canadian legal obligations would be fixed at the moment CUSMA came into force on 1 July 2020. That position is untenable in the context of Canada’s evolving and changing relationship with Indigenous peoples. The International Court of Justice and the WTO’s Appellate Body have recognized that some international obligations are evolutionary and that the parties must have intended that they should be interpreted in light of the circumstances in existence at the time an issue regarding their application arises.Footnote 157 An evolutionary approach has been applied, for example, in determining the meaning of the exception from the general obligations of the GATT for measures designed to protect “exhaustible natural resources” set out in Article XX of the GATT. Footnote 158
Such an approach should not be necessary to accommodate the slow and often grudging affirmation of Aboriginal rights by Canadian courts and governments. Because such affirmed rights are not “new” rights, the issue of evolutionary interpretation arguably does not arise. But what about treaties between Canada and Indigenous peoples that are negotiated after 1 July 2020 and that change Canada’s current obligations? This form of evolution should be accommodated for the purposes of the IGE. If Canada negotiates a new treaty with an Indigenous group, the resulting obligations are arguably not new but, rather, derivative of underlying pre-existing Aboriginal and treaty rights and the inherent sovereignty of the Indigenous group. Predicting IGE analysis becomes murkier when one contemplates obligations to Indigenous peoples that are clearly novel. With CUSMA in force, whether Canada would expand its legal obligations to Indigenous peoples by undertaking any new international obligations is unclear. It is difficult to say whether Canada, the United States, and Mexico intended that Canada’s obligations for the purposes of the IGE would change if Canada ratified a new convention subjecting Canada to new levels of international commitment.
The discussion of British Columbia’s new DRIPA raises a similar, difficult issue. Did Canada, the United States, and Mexico intend “legal obligations” for the purposes of the IGE to include ordinary domestic law obligations, as opposed to constitutionally protected obligations, undertaken by a Canadian government? The DRIPA came into effect before CUSMA did. But would clearer and more enforceable Canadian legislative obligations be “legal obligations to Indigenous peoples”? The parties did not likely intend that Canada could protect, in effect, its actions under the IGE through the simple expedient of enacting legislation. Would it matter that the legislation was intended to give effect to an obligation to Indigenous peoples under the UNDRIP? Certainly, the words “legal obligations” are broad enough to support this analysis. The fact that constitutional obligations are separately identified as a subset of legal obligations suggests that a broader meaning must have been intended. But how broad is unclear.
summary and preliminary conclusions regarding canadian legal obligations to indigenous peoples
Canadian governments must respect and uphold constitutionally protected Aboriginal and treaty rights and numerous other obligations stemming from the Crown’s duty of honourable conduct.
Some of the interpretive issues around the evolving content of obligations can be addressed under the conventional rules of treaty interpretation, although the IGE presents these issues in a distinctive context. More importantly, the nature and content of Canada’s legal obligations to Indigenous peoples raise extremely complex issues of domestic and Indigenous law and practice that are not addressed in any way by the rules of treaty interpretation. Those issues are far outside the ordinary competence of international law specialists. Addressing them effectively and sensitively requires a deep understanding of a fraught historical context and the Crown’s unique responsibilities. A non-expert tribunal struck pursuant to CUSMA would be completely ill-suited to address and determine the content of Canada’s “legal obligations to Indigenous peoples.” The concerns in this regard are set out in more detail in the next part.
Specific Risks Related to CUSMA’s State-to-State Dispute Settlement Panel’s Adjudication of Canada’s Reliance on the IGE
The prospect of CUSMA panels adjudicating Canada’s ability to rely on the IGE raises concerns regarding the likely competence of panel members and the nature of the adjudication process. In practice, CUSMA panel members are unlikely to have much understanding of Canadian Indigenous peoples’ rights and Canada’s corresponding legal obligations. Under CUSMA, panels are composed of five members. If the dispute were between Canada and the United States, for example, the two countries would first try to agree on a panel chair. If the parties could not agree to a chair after fifteen days, the disputing party chosen by lot could choose the chair, who cannot be a national of that party.Footnote 159 The practice under the similar procedure in Chapter 20 of NAFTA was to agree on a chair who was not a national of either disputing party to avoid concerns about nationality bias.Footnote 160 After the selection of a chair, Canada would choose two Americans from a roster to be established under the treaty, and the United States would choose two Canadians from the roster.Footnote 161 Therefore, at least two, and likely three, of the five panellists would be non-Canadians, and the two Canadians on the panel would be chosen by the United States. Roster members must meet certain qualifications in CUSMA, but knowledge of Indigenous rights is not one of them.Footnote 162 The quality of a decision by such a panel regarding whether a Canadian measure was “necessary to fulfill its legal obligations to [I]ndigenous peoples” is dubious. As described above, the nature of Canada’s legal obligations to Indigenous peoples is unique and complicated, including in the manner in which they are established, interpreted, and changed. Ad hoc CUSMA panels are poorly positioned to opine on these obligations.
As discussed above, the precise task of a panel charged with assessing whether Canada can rely on the IGE is not known because the exception is novel and untested. Our analysis suggests that a panel would have to determine whether Canada acted in good faith in determining that its actions were necessary to fulfill a legal obligation to Indigenous peoples. To do so, the panel would be required to decide whether Canada had shown some plausible connection between its measure and the fulfillment of a legal obligation. More importantly, the panel might have to decide whether Canada had a “legal obligation to [I]ndigenous peoples” in the first place and what that obligation required on an objective basis. In other words, Canada might ultimately have to convince a dispute settlement panel of the existence and nature of the legal obligation rather than simply showing the panel that it was acting in good faith in identifying the obligation and characterizing its effects. Trade panels are ill-equipped to perform this element of the task. The panel would also have to decide whether the measure met the requirements of the IGE chapeau: Canadian measures must not constitute arbitrary and unjustified discrimination or a disguised restriction on trade in goods, services, and investment. These requirements are very similar to Article XX of the GATT and, so, within the realm of conventional trade law analysis that CUSMA panels would have the necessary expertise to perform.
A second concern compounds the first. Affected Indigenous groups will have very limited participation rights in CUSMA panel proceedings. CUSMA provides for public hearings unless the state parties agree otherwise. Parties other than the states have restricted and uncertain opportunities to participate. A panel must consider any request from a non-governmental entity located in the territory of a disputing party to provide written views regarding the dispute that may assist the panel in evaluating the submissions and arguments of the disputing parties.Footnote 163 This is an untested innovation in CUSMA. Nothing guarantees that affected Indigenous groups would be permitted to participate. In contrast, Canadian law requires consultation if Crown measures could affect Indigenous peoples, as described above. Canadian court rules permit participation by affected Indigenous groups either as parties or as intervenors.
Finally, Canada’s experience shows that the process for determining Indigenous rights and Canada’s corresponding obligations must permit and accommodate iterative reconsideration of those rights and obligations. Unlike domestic courts, a CUSMA tribunal hearing a single complaint does not have that capacity. Overall, a panel appointed under CUSMA would be ill-suited to determine whether Canada can rely on the IGE.
Factors Mitigating the Risk of CUSMA Panel Adjudication in Practice
Despite these concerns, the risks associated with Canada’s reliance on the IGE are significantly mitigated in practice. Canada’s Services and Investment Reservation in the new agreement for measures that confer rights or preferences on Indigenous peoples is not subject to the same limitations as the IGE. In relation to the treaty obligations to which the reservation applies, Canada is free to “adopt or maintain measures conferring rights or preferences to [A]boriginal peoples” without restriction. Unlike the IGE, the Services and Investment Reservation is not limited to actions required to fulfill legal obligations or subject to any chapeau-like limitation. Reliance on the IGE would only be needed for measures not protected by this reservation or any other carve-out in CUSMA. Footnote 164
Obligations not to expropriate foreign investors without compensation and to provide fair and equitable treatment are the basis of most investor-state claims. These obligations are not excluded by the Services and Investment Reservation, but the risk of claims based on these obligations seems small. The risk of expropriation claims is lessened to the extent that Canadian governments follow their historical practice of compensating investors for expropriations.Footnote 165 The risk of a claim under the notoriously unpredictable fair and equitable treatment obligation is more worrisome.Footnote 166 But the risk of claims actually being made under either provision is substantially attenuated under CUSMA as compared to NAFTA. Under CUSMA, the investor-state arbitration procedure cannot be used against Canada, precluding US or Mexican investor claims based on the expropriation or fair and equitable treatment obligations.Footnote 167
The substantive investor protection obligations and other obligations not covered by reservations could be invoked in state-to-state dispute settlement, but state-to-state cases are likely to be rare in practice for several reasons. First, an aggrieved American or Mexican investor would have to convince its government to initiate the case. The investor’s claim may not be of sufficient interest to its state to warrant pursuit unless the investor — alone or together with other individuals affected by the Canadian measure — represents a significant and influential business interest or the claim raises important general issues related to the application of the IGE or other provisions of CUSMA. Second, even if a state considered making a complaint, that complaint would be unlikely to proceed to a panel adjudication in the formal state-to-state dispute settlement process. NAFTA’s similar state-to-state panel process has proven ineffective, and it has not been used since the third case was initiated in 1998.Footnote 168 Despite some improvements, more frequent use of state-to-state dispute settlement under CUSMA seems unlikely.Footnote 169 No one has yet challenged the use of the similar exception in New Zealand’s treaties for Māori or the carve-outs under Canada’s agreement on internal trade for measures related to Indigenous peoples.Footnote 170 As well, given the nature of Canada’s relationship with Indigenous peoples, Canada may be highly motivated to find a solution to any American or Mexican concern before a panel adjudication. Indeed, because of the political sensitivities related to Indigenous issues, the US and Mexican governments may also be reluctant to push their concerns to a panel.Footnote 171
Even if, at some future date, a dispute settlement panel were to decide that the IGE was not available to protect a Canadian government measure, a CUSMA panel’s determination that the IGE does not protect a Canadian measure is not binding or authoritative under Canadian law. As well, unlike the WTO, CUSMA has no developed enforcement procedure.Footnote 172 Instead, CUSMA provides only that the parties “endeavour to agree on a resolution to the dispute.”Footnote 173 On the other hand, in the absence of mutual agreement on a resolution of the dispute within thirty days, the complaining party may suspend trade concessions that are equivalent in effect to any Canadian non-compliance until the parties can agree on a resolution of the dispute.Footnote 174 In short, the risk of a panel decision on the availability of the IGE to Canada is small. That said, in the event of a panel decision that the IGE was not available, Canada could face pressure in the form of tariffs or other trade actions adopted by the complaining party to remove a measure or amend it to rectify any non-compliance with CUSMA. Footnote 175
Conclusion
Canada’s international treaty obligations, including those under CUSMA, must not restrict Canada’s ability to honour its obligations to Indigenous peoples. The IGE is therefore a progressive development. Compared to CETA and the CPTPP, CUSMA’s IGE, coupled with the elimination of investor-state arbitration between Canada and the United States, significantly reduces the risk of treaty-based challenges to Canadian measures in relation to Indigenous peoples. However, because the IGE is novel, its requirements are somewhat uncertain. Nevertheless, the analysis above suggests that those requirements are likely to be interpreted in a manner that will undermine its utility. While Canada has discretion to decide what measures are necessary to fulfill its legal obligations to Indigenous peoples, that discretion must be exercised in good faith, which means that, to rely on the IGE, Canada will have to identify an obligation and provide a plausible rationale for how the measure is necessary to fulfill it. Of greater concern, the existence and nature of the obligation might have to be demonstrated on some objective basis. The IGE chapeau imposes additional limitations. Canadian measures under the IGE must not constitute arbitrary and unjustified discrimination or a disguised restriction on trade in goods, services, and investment. Canada requires flexibility in assessing its obligations to Indigenous peoples in order to meaningfully discharge them and repair its relationships. The IGE’s requirements constrain that flexibility.
A critical implication of this analysis is that Canada’s reliance on the IGE may be challenged by the United States or Mexico, with the possibility that a dispute settlement panel under CUSMA may ultimately determine whether the exception is available. While the real-world likelihood of such a case seems small, the prospect is a concern to the extent that the panel would have to determine the content and effect of Canadian legal obligations and the degree to which a Canadian measure was responsive to them. CUSMA panels are simply not equipped to assess such matters. The nature and content of Canada’s obligations to Indigenous peoples are distinctive in their essential nature and how they are proven and interpreted. Canadian courts and governments recognize, affirm, and often deny these rights in lurching and uncertain steps. One-time adjudication by a CUSMA panel cannot come close to approximating even existing, imperfect decision-making processes in Canada. Panellists, while expert in matters related to international trade, will have no expertise to decide on issues related to the content of Canada’s obligations to Indigenous peoples. Moreover, affected Indigenous groups are not guaranteed participation in the adjudication process. As a result, panel decisions on the IGE contain risk. Perhaps most importantly, a CUSMA panel’s decision denying the exception could undermine the delicate relationship between Canada and Indigenous peoples.