Is Being Conservative a Betrayal? A Question for Indigenous Politics

 Not All the Same: Indigenous Voices, Politics, and the Power of Running

In 1960, First Nations people in Canada were finally granted the right to vote without losing their Indian status. That moment, only 65 years ago, marked a turning point in our political relationship with the state. Today, in the 2025 federal election, we see the result of that long struggle for participation. Across the country, Indigenous candidates—First Nations, Métis, and Inuit—are running for office under the banners of all major parties. This is not just a symbolic gesture; it is a sign of democratic maturity, and it is a call for real inclusion.

When I look at this growing list of candidates, I feel pride. But I also reflect on my own experience as a Member of Parliament. I loved engaging with the public, especially online. Some politicians avoid the comment sections—I never could. I liked the debate, the rough and tumble of politics. I kept my Facebook page clean of hateful language, but I welcomed hard questions and honest dialogue. On Twitter recently (and yes, it will always be Twitter to me, not "X"), I remember reading one comment that stuck with me: “Why would any First Nation be in the Conservative Party? Traitors.” That word, traitors, hit me.

Are we really so uniform that we expect all Indigenous people to think, feel, and vote the same way? We are not a monolith. We are traditionalists and Christians, urban and rural, from reserves and cities. Some of us have deep connections to the land; others are reconnecting. We are fluent in our languages or learning again. Some of us are employed, some are not. We have small families, big families. We speak different languages, come from different Nations. Why should we all vote the same?

I’ve always believed that when the door to policy-making is closed, it’s better to be inside the room—even if you have to fight to be heard. That’s why I hated it when Justin Trudeau’s Prime Minister’s Office made decisions that affected Indigenous communities without even speaking to the Indigenous caucus. It felt disrespectful. We deserved at least a conversation. And if I didn’t like the decision, I would speak up. I’d force a discussion before the policy was finalized. That was my way: walk right up to the line, but don’t cross it.

The 2025 federal election offers a new generation of Indigenous leaders who are doing just that—stepping into rooms where decisions are made. After researching data from IndigenousRockTheVote.ca and comparing it with 2021, the numbers reveal some important trends. In the 2021 federal election, adjusted to remove Green and PPC candidates and include one Bloc Québécois First Nations MP, there were 46 Indigenous candidates. Of these, 10 were elected: five Métis, four First Nations, and one Inuit.

In 2025, that number has decreased to 32 Indigenous candidates across the four major parties. The NDP leads with 14 Indigenous candidates, followed by the Liberals with 11, the Conservatives with six, and the Bloc with one. By identity, there are 17 First Nations, 11 Métis, and three Inuit candidates running in this election.

Though there are fewer Indigenous candidates than in 2021, the distribution across parties is notable. The NDP has increased its share of First Nations and Métis candidates, and the Conservative Party has more Indigenous candidates than ever before. That matters. Our presence in every party challenges the notion that Indigenous people must belong to one ideology. It proves that we can be everywhere—and we should be.

I believe it is good to see a large number of Indigenous candidates running for public office with hopefully a strong chance of winning. Because if we are not around the table, decisions will still be made—just without us. Voting isn’t the only way we shape this country, but it remains one of the most powerful. And when we run, speak, and lead, we do more than claim our place—we expand the possibilities for everyone.

Radio-canada 

Happy 65th Birthday, Right to Vote — A Celebration with Complicated Candles

65 years ago, Canada passed Bill C-3, amending the Canada Elections Act to finally give First Nations Peoples the unrestricted right to vote in federal elections—without having to give up their status under the Indian Act.

 

Happy birthday, Indian Act amendment.

You arrived fashionably late. Nearly a century late.

 

Before the 1880s, many First Nations people—especially those living east of Manitoba—could vote in federal elections. But then, in classic colonial fashion, the right was quietly taken away. For the next 80 years, voting came with conditions: you could enlist in war, pay taxes, even die for your country—but unless you renounced your Indianness, you couldn’t vote in it.

 

That all changed on a spring day in 1960. The Prime Minister, John Diefenbaker, believed it was time to make good on a promise of full citizenship. Minister Ellen Fairclough introduced Bill C-3. “We believe that the time has come to give all Indians in Canada the right to vote in federal elections without being required to abandon their treaty rights or Indian status.”

 

Finally, the right to vote without assimilation.

 

But here’s the twist: First Nations were never actually invited to help plan the party. No consultation. No committee of Elders or community voices. Just a well-meaning government and a handful of MPs making decisions on behalf of over 200 diverse nations.

 

MP Caron from Hull said it plainly “I agree that [Senator Gladstone’s] presence there is a good thing. However, I do not agree that, in itself, it automatically gives recognition to all the Indians, because the first right of the Indian is to speak for himself, personally and in his own behalf….Most of the Indians… do not seem to be in favour of this bill—not because they do not want to vote, but because they fear the white man.” Caron further added “They are afraid that, in exchange for a favour, the white man will take something away from them.”

 

Can you blame them?

 

In my own family, there are Elders still alive today who came of age in Canada and couldn’t vote. Some served in the military—uniform on, medals earned, still denied the ballot. They’ve now been voting for 65 years. That’s a whole retirement’s worth of democracy.

 

CCF MP Howard from Skeena said it well during the 1960 debates “When we extend the franchise to Indians we are not doing them a favour. We are merely restoring to them a right that should never have been taken away.”

 

Yes, we had cake and candles. But many First Nations brought caution and memory instead of celebration. After all, what is given without being asked for can always be taken without notice.

That’s the legacy of the Two Row Wampum, an agreement made long before Confederation. Two vessels—one Indigenous, one settler—traveling side by side, never interfering in the other’s path. The spirit of the treaty was mutual respect and coexistence. Not absorption. Not silence.

 

And yet, for decades, Canada decided what "rights" First Nations could exercise. Even the right to choose their leaders.

 

Still, some chose to step into the colonial halls and speak their truths.

 

In 1968—just eight years after Bill C-3 became law—Len Marchand became the first Status First Nations person elected to Parliament. He was followed by many others: Métis, Inuit, First Nations. Today, Indigenous MPs sit on both sides of the House, sometimes raising hard truths, sometimes being told they “say too much.”

 

That, too, is democracy. Today, we mark 65 years since that vote passed. A small step on the long road of recognition. A moment of both pride and pain.

 

So here’s a toast:

To the aunties and uncles who voted in their first election at 30, 40, 50 years old.
To the grandfathers who signed up to fight overseas, but weren’t allowed to vote back home.
To the youth who are voting today, often for the first time in their families.
To the MPs who listen.
To the ones who still feel that what is for Canada is for Canada—and what is for First Nations is for First Nations. 

 

Happy birthday, Bill C-3. You’re not perfect, but you opened a door. And we haven’t stopped walking through it since.

Original Article