Toronto, not Ontario premier Doug Ford, should decide for itself whether it wants a casino

The Toronto Waterfront. Image: Getty.

After the Ontario Court of Appeal recently ruled that Toronto’s recent municipal election would go ahead with 25 wards instead of 47, the province turned its attention to the city’s waterfront.

There’s speculation that Ontario premier Doug Ford has a personal interest in reviving the idea of a casino on the city’s waterfront. In 2013, when Ford was a councillor, Toronto city council rejected a downtown casino in a near-unanimous vote. Likewise, municipalities in the pre-amalgamated Toronto fiercely opposed the creation of a casino in 1997.

Renewed provincial interest in pushing the deeply unpopular idea forward may give us a hint into why the Ford government was so determined to shrink Toronto city council.

After the court’s decision was released, government House Leader Todd Smith told reporters that having a “streamlined council” would allow the government to “move forward with all of our election promises”.

This reaction should make us fear for the power of local governments not just in Ontario, but all of Canada.

Municipalities are democratic institutions

While they do not have constitutional status, Canadian municipalities are crucial democracies that are grounded in particular locales.

The Court of Appeal’s dismissal of the impact of the diminished number of wards in Toronto as merely “inconvenient” displays a lack of understanding of the way these local democracies work.

Unlike provincial and federal candidates, aspiring and elected municipal councillors must speak to voters about their streets, their community centres, development applications in their neighbourhoods. While there are many issues that matter across the city, local politics is just that: local. These local issues are often what voters want to talk about at the dinner table, at the door and on the street.

In the wake of Ontario’s Bill 5 to shrink the size of Toronto city council, Todd Smith’s comments along with casino speculation confuse the role of municipal governments. Are city councillors elected to facilitate the agenda of the province? Or are they elected to deliver on the agenda city councillors put forward to voters at the local level?


Now what?

In the City of Toronto, the answer is clear: Like all municipalities, city council is a level of government deserving of recognition and autonomy.

Many residents were disappointed the local election went forward on 22 October with 25 wards. Even so, it’s important to forge ahead and seize this moment to affirm and expand the meaning and practice of local democracy.

The complex work of municipalities is everywhere in our day-to-day lives. City governance can look chaotic and messy from the outside. But we should not mistake messiness for ineffectiveness. Indeed, much of the appearance of messiness pertains to the transparency required of municipal councils compared to provincial or federal governments.

While city councils must deliberate most issues in the open — in council chambers, or at planning meetings and community consultations — provincial cabinets meet behind closed doors, spending unknown hours or days deliberating out of public view. Even the “open” nature of debates in the Ontario legislature has been limited recently, with galleries cleared during debates over the Toronto legislation.

More mess, not less

The City of Toronto and its residents should use the new 25-ward model to push for other forms of local democratic decision-making.

Toronto city council is far from perfect. Indeed, regardless of the chaos caused by Bill 5, local governance can be galvanised through the empowerment of community councils and local planning bodies. Toronto already has four delegated community councils that make decisions and recommendations to council about a range of issues.

We can learn a lot from how the 2013 casino debate unfolded, when the Toronto-East York community council played a crucial role by examining in detail the effects on local communities regarding traffic, addiction and businesses.

There are many important issues best dealt with at the local level; hence the growing importance of local governments across Canada. On crucial issues like climate change, cities have emerged as some of the most effective actors globally.

Local governments have also been at the forefront pushing for more affordable housing and better transit.

Some argue that we should rethink Canada’s Constitution in the wake of Ford’s successful move to shrink Toronto city council. The Federation of Canadian Municipalities stated recently: “Local governments are building a more liveable, competitive Canada. We are ready to have an important conversation about greater municipal autonomy, and the tools needed to support it.”

Changes should start at home, by building strong and vibrant democratic structures in our neighbourhoods and communities.

Torontonians — not the province — should decide whether to have a casino on the city’s waterfront.

City councillors and the public were best able to speak to the consequences of a downtown casino in 2013. They still are. The key to improving city governance is to add more democracy, more openness and more messiness — not less.

The Conversation

Estair Van Wagner, Assistant Professor, York University, Canada and Alexandra Flynn, Assistant Professor of Human Geography & City Studies, University of Toronto.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

 
 
 
 

In New Zealand, climate change is driving an eco-nationalist revival

The green and pleasant land of the South Island. Image: Getty.

“Ten years ago I would have called them settler f*****g land squatters,” Mike Smith, Maori-dom’s most tenacious activist, said last November as he reflected on the agriculture industry’s central role in driving climate change. “Now I have to try and get these people on board.”

Smith is infamous for taking a chainsaw to Auckland’s most prominent tree on a damp October night in 1994 in protest of the “Pākehā” – or white European –dominated government’s fiscal envelope restraining treaty settlements. Now he’s turned his hand to another cause close-to-home for the Maori, New Zealand’s indigenous population: the environment.

“We’re super vulnerable, like we are to anything,” Smith says. “When it comes to climate change it’s like the poorest people in the world are going to be hit the hardest first, and that’s a lot of us.”

Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern appears, at least rhetorically, the most sympathetic leader to his cause in a decade. In her campaign launch speech late last year, she made the future government’s position clear: “Climate change is my generation’s nuclear free moment.”

This message should resonate with followers of her Labour party: the NZ left has long nurtured an environment-orientated “culture-of-protest”. So Ardern’s call to arms was bound to gain her loyal support among children of the 1960s and ‘70s, who led the march against nuclear ship visits, spurring on the government of the time to wriggle out from the US nuclear umbrella, and place a ban on foreign nuclear ship visits.

Now, it is to the tycoons of deep sea oil exploration they aim to close NZ’s ports.

In this, Smith is not short of support locally, with marches run by grassroots organisations and international animal welfare funds beginning to gain traction with every day New Zealanders. In this, Ardern’s prediction is correct: the Coal Action Network Aotearoa (CANA), is reminiscent of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND), an earlier cluster of left-wing pacifists and nature lovers who drove the creation of the nuclear free zone.  

In December, 15,000 passionate protesters marched through the capital. And with the government’s recent ban of offshore oil exploration projects, Jeanette Fitzsimons, former Green party co-leader and the head of CANA, is optimistic about similar change to the energy and farming sectors.

The Labour-NZ First-Green party coalition seems focused on setting a new global precedent, weaning NZ away from a United States which has jettisoned the Paris Agreement. The move replicates another 20 years ago, when New Zealand’s anti-nuclear movement was central to an upsurge in New Zealand nationalism. Now, the same sense of going it alone on foreign policy is apparent both locally and in Parliament.

Dr. Gradon Diprose, a senior lecturer at Massey University, argues that this echoes an older expression of colonial nationalism, that saw “New Zealand as a land of natural abundance”. This: “eco-nationalism” is centered on “protecting certain visions of picturesque landscapes and unspoiled natural beauty”. The slogan “Clean, green New Zealand” is prevalent in popular culture and tourism marketing. The public seems to have latched onto it too, and ranked keeping NZ’s waterways “clean and green” top of a recent survey of of kiwis’ top concerns.

Three decades ago, it was the 10 July 1985 sinking of the Greenpeace flagship Rainbow Warrior that thrust local activists’ fears into the public eye, resulting in an almost nation-wide expression of climate-protectionism.


The bombing, a French intelligence operation sparked by Greenpeace’s calls for an end to foreign nuclear testing in the Pacific, galvanised a great deal of change to New Zealand’s overseas defence policies. A lack of censure from New Zealand’s Western allies drove Wellington to distance itself from the United States, while the shock of seeing a friendly nation violate NZ’s sovereignty left many at home seething.

Thirty years on, the foreign policy split throughout the Anglosphere, regarding Russian-Western relations, globalism, and the old international rules-based order, is becoming wider. Climate change is just the tip of the iceberg.

Most Kiwis you talk to will shake their heads in disapproval at US president Donald Trump’s scandalous outing last year in Helsinki. But US defiance of internationally brokered climate resolutions is something they can see clearly reflected in rural communities across the country.

The country saw records broken at both ends of the extreme weather spectrum last year. As 2018 kicked off, Kiwis sweltered through the hottest summer on record, while in Golden Bay, a small inlet near the northern tip of the South Island, residents endured the largest flood in 150 years. So, when President Trump tweets “So much for Global Warming”, the majority of New Zealanders look back fondly on NZ’s 1985 decision to boycott the “ANZUS” treaty, putting New Zealand at odds with its war-time ally America on defence legislation.

Public calls to take the same track on environmental regulation have become louder in the wake of Donald Trump’s election. The former US Secretary of State, Rex Tillerson, received a frosty “unwelcome” while on a flyby to the capital in 2017, with the New York Times’ Washington correspondent, Gardiner Harris remarking: “I’ve never seen so many people flip the bird at an American motorcade as I saw today”. Protests against President Trump’s stance on climate change are beginning to gain greater traction further still, with the hundred-strong “march for science” setting the tone for the new government later that year.

New Zealand certainly isn’t afraid of radicalism, and its activists are persistent. It’s already banned single use plastics in supermarkets. Plenty more is to come, Smith says.

And yes, reform is going to inhibit sometimes vital industries: “It doesn’t matter which way you spin the dice on this, whatever’s being done is going to hurt. People who are looking for a painless way of mitigating climate change, [but] I don’t think there is one.”

But among Smith’s troupe of climate agitators, the feeling is that, without drastic change, “the land”, the heart of the Maori ethos, is going to be hurt far more.

Back in Auckland, NZ’s financial hub, an electric scooter craze is gripping the city. This, too, has gained the support of local environmentalists. In New Zealand, a national sense of pride is always coupled with a certain eccentricity. In a country this size, change always starts small.