La Ley Indígena de 1977 en Costa Rica: origen y negociación en el contexto de los años 1970

The proposal to create a Northern Corridor that would allow for cross-country, multi-modal infrastructure development is an ambitious vision (Sulzenko and Fellows 2016; Standing Senate Committee 2017). This proposed infrastructure corridor would incorporate multiple uses, from pipelines to railways, roads, telecommunications, electricity infrastructure and more. Its geographic scale stretches continuously from coastal B.C. across Canada to the Atlantic coast, with spurs running northward to the Arctic Ocean through the Northwest Territories, Nunavut and via Manitoba to Hudson’s Bay. A critical foundation for its successful development will be the ability to appreciate and incorporate the rights of Indigenous peoples affected by the project (Wright 2020; Newman 2022). The goal of this research paper is to outline the law of Indigenous peoples’ land ownership rights, including proven and asserted title, Crown-Indigenous treaty relations and obligations and Indigenous land claims agreements, and to consider the implications for a large-scale infrastructure project like the Northern Corridor.1 The focus is on the legaland regulatory aspects of Indigenous peoples’ land rights within the non-Indigenous Canadian legal system.2 The research paper uses standard legal methods to assess the land ownership rights of Indigenous peoples, drawing on relevant constitutional and statutory provisions, leading cases and secondary literature. The paper proceeds with a brief overview of these distinct types of Indigenous land rights, then provides a more detailed account of the legal content of s. 35 constitutional Aboriginal title, historic and modern treaty rights. This includes discussion of government’s legal duty of consultation and accommodation, and the requirements for constitutionally justified limitation of these rights. Indigenous land ownership rights in reserve lands are also discussed. A series of case studies more fully illustrates the implications of these varied Indigenous land rights for a project like the Northern Corridor. Finally, the paper turns to the dynamic nature of Indigenous rights and the potential influence of the UNDRIP. The implications of Indigenous peoples’ land rights for the proposed Northern Corridor are extensive. While many of the legal obligations fall on the Crown, as represented by provincial, territorial and federal governments, industry proponents must also play a role. Project proponents engage directly with Indigenous land-rights holders and are crucial to the exchange of information, mitigation of project impacts and creation of benefits for Indigenous communities. Successful development of the Northern Corridor infrastructure project requires a partnered approach with affected Indigenous rights- holding communities. Portions of the proposed corridor traverse the traditional territories of Indigenous peoples over which Aboriginal title is claimed. Where Indigenous claimants demonstrate sufficient, exclusive use and occupation of the land prior to Crown claims of sovereignty, title will be established. The legal test for recognizing title is one that reflects both the common law and Aboriginal perspectives, and is sensitive to context. The geographic scope for successful Aboriginal title claims that overlap with the Northern Corridor is significant. Where Indigenous peoples hold title to the land, they are collectively entitled to exclusively enjoy the benefits of that land, and to decide on its uses. Governments or third parties seeking access to the land require consent from the title holders. In the period before title is established, governments authorizing projects like the Northern Corridor, that could negatively impact Aboriginal title, must consult with Indigenous peoples and, when appropriate, accommodate their interests. This is required to maintain the Honour of the Crown. While the legal duty falls on government, project proponents working directly with Indigenous peoples are an important part of the consultation and accommodation process. Governments do retain a legal ability to justifiably limit Aboriginal title. They can pursue projects in the public interest that are consistent with s. 35’s reconciliation purpose, if they meet the requirements of their unique obligations to and relationship with Aboriginal people (the fiduciary duty and Honour of the Crown). This means satisfying the procedural duty to consult and accommodate Aboriginal title holders, pursuing only limits on title that do not damage their long-term relationship with the land, as well as meeting a recently outlined requirement for proportionality. Proportionality means that limits on Aboriginal title must be necessary to achieve the public purpose and must be as minimal as possible, and that the overall public benefit must not be outweighed by negative impacts on title holders. Projects that go forward with participation and consent of Indigenous title holders will meet these requirements. There is also potential for the Northern Corridor to cross reserve lands. Where these remain subject to the Indian Act, one of the relevant statutory mechanisms for access must be used. These require consent from the band and federal government. For bands that have transitioned to management of their reserves under the First National Land Management Act (FNLMA), only consent of the band as set out in its Land Code is required. The Northern Corridor also crosses lands over which Indigenous people hold land rights under the historic “Numbered Treaties.” While the treaties appear to include formal surrenders of Aboriginal title (an interpretation that is contested), continued rights of use over traditional territories are critical elements of these constitutionally binding agreements. Although governments can “take up” surrendered lands for development, this right is subject to a duty to consult Indigenous parties and accommodate impacts on their treaty rights. Governments can justifiably infringe historic treaty rights. This can be done when a permissible objective is pursued in a way that meets government’s fiduciary duty and upholds the Honour of the Crown. The specific requirements can vary, but generally the test is more restrictive when non-commercial treaty rights are at stake and requires some form of priority to be given to these Aboriginal rights. The requirement for justification is triggered when treaty rights are infringed — when a group is deprived of a meaningful ability to exercise its treaty rights within its traditional territory. Recent developments suggest this threshold should be assessed looking to cumulative impacts and that a process for monitoring and addressing these is part of justified limits on these historic treaty rights. Finally, the Northern Corridor also intersects with lands covered by modern treaties. These agreements provide detailed guidance about the specific rights Indigenous parties enjoy, processes for consultation and co-management of the treaty lands as well as interactions between jurisdictional decisions under the treaty and by other levels of government. Courts have outlined a distinctive approach to the modern treaties that recognize their sophistication and the efforts to negotiate these modern governance frameworks to advance reconciliation. Courts would pay close attention to the relevant treaty terms and processes in any dispute over development of the Northern Corridor. Relatively minimal supervision of the modern treaty relationships should be expected from the courts, although the Honour of the Crown and the obligations it places on governments still apply. It is unclear whether justified infringements of modern treaty rights are possible, and whether a stricter constitutional standard would be required. Case studies of recent infrastructure and resource development projects show that while much of the law is clear, outstanding issues remain, and the practical application of the law can be challenging. The sufficiency of consultation can be in doubt on complex projects involving multiple Indigenous communities. Basic issues such as who to consult can emerge when there is overlap between traditional and Indian Act governance structures and both reserves and other land rights are involved. The applicability of Indigenous laws to traditional territories under claims of Aboriginal title and interactions between Indigenous law and jurisdiction and non-Indigenous law and government authority can also be unclear. Many modern projects proceed with the consent and participation of Indigenous peoples, for example, through benefit agreements. These agreements, because of their link to the underlying Aboriginal rights, can engage the Honour of the Crown and the duty to consult if subsequent developments negatively affect benefits under the agreements. In practice, meeting the legal obligations triggered by Indigenous land rights requires direct, good faith engagement with affected Indigenous communities. The best-case scenario is partnered development that proceeds with the consent of Indigenous rights holders. Current case law suggests that projects like the Northern Corridor might go ahead without full consensus, since there is no “veto” implicit in s. 35(1) Aboriginal rights. However, legal requirements for justified infringements, if possible, still require adequate consultation and accommodation of the rights of Indigenous peoples, and support only necessary, minimal limits on their rights. Overall benefits must outweigh negative impacts on Indigenous communities, and their ability to benefit directly from projects or be compensated for harms is generally part of justifying limits on their rights. On the ground, project proponents will be deeply involved in the relationship-building and engagement that is needed to support consensual development, or will meet the high bar for constitutional justification. Determining whether governments’ legal obligations ultimately have been met is done at a detailed, fact-specific level — not in the abstract. There are no leading cases that support constitutional justification of hypothetical, indeterminate public uses such as the proposed Northern Corridor. The law of Indigenous rights is constantly evolving. Over the lifespan of a project like the Northern Corridor, change would be certain. Canadian approval of the UNDRIP and recent federal and provincial legislation committing to bring Canadian law into compliance are important signals of future development. The UNDRIP embraces a model of Indigenous rights grounded in self-determination and its standard of “free, prior, informed consent” appears to reflect the ability of Indigenous peoples to make their own decisions about projects that impact their rights. The legal implications of the UNDRIP for s. 35 and Indigenous land rights in Canada remain to be seen. As with modern treaties and the FNLMA, it represents a resurgence in Indigenous peoples’ rights to play a direct role in governing their traditional lands and bringing their own laws to bear on developments that impact their lands and rights. Co-management and shared governance frameworks that integrate Indigenous rights holders will likely be key to successful future project development. For a proposal like the Northern Corridor, further study is required to fully appreciate the implications of these nascent developments and consider how they should be reflected in the project proposal.

To See with Two Eyes: Peasant Activism and Indian Autonomy in Chiapas, Mexico

wave of political organizing across indigenous communities. Indigenous communities have formed national and international peasant confederations, law centers, cultural centers, and, more recently, political parties and platforms. Challenging the historical image of Indians as a submissive, backward, and anachronistic group, these newly formed organizations have declared, embraced, and mobilized around their indigenous identity. Their demands have included territorial autonomy, respect for customary law, new forms of political representation, and bicultural education. While the specific characteristics of organizations and agendas vary, they have commonly demanded that constitutional, democratic, individual rights be respected and that collective indigenous rights be granted. Consequently, they are contesting the practice and terms of citizenship in Latin America's new democracies. The emergence of indigenous organizations, politicization of indigenous identities, and demand for indigenous rights over the past two decades challenge historical norms and scholarly conclusions about the politicization of ethnic cleavages in Latin America. The historical record suggests that in the twentieth century indigenous communities have rarely initiated or sustained social movements that proclaimed an indigenous identity and demanded indigenous rights. To the contrary, active rural organizing within and between indigenous communities has traditionally been the reserve of peasant unions, political parties, churches, and revolutionaries. These movements have historically attempted to mobilize Indians to forge class, partisan, religious and/or revolutionary identities over, and often against, indigenous ones. Accordingly, scholars have generally underscored the weak politicization of ethnic cleavages in Latin America and concluded that ethnicity in Latin America has had comparatively little explicit impact on political organizing, party platforms, debates, and conflict, in sharp contrast to other regions in the world. I The emergence of indigenous organizations that proclaim and promote indigenous identity and rights, therefore, constitutes a new phenomenon that merits explanation.2 This article addresses why indigenous identity has become a more salient basis of political organizing and source of political claims in Latin America by comparing rural politics since 1945 in Bolivia, Ecuador, Guatemala, Mexico, and Peru.

International law underwent a major shift when the second World War ended; the creation of the United Nations (UN) led to a system based upon human rights. The UN Charter, which affirmed support for equal rights and self-determination, was adopted in 1945, followed by the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) in 1948. A number of binding treaties were ratified in the years that followed, most notably the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) and the International Covenant on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights (ICESCR) in 1966. This shift, together with the first explicit endorsement of self-determination, (defined as the freedom of a group of people to choose a political status and pursue development ) led to the demise of colonial powers dominating entire peoples and the creation of a number of new states. Indigenous peoples, effectively trapped within the borders laid down by their colonial oppressors, were largely left out of this. Indigenous peoples, broadly defined as tribal groups that have been somewhat engulfed by settler states, have often been left at a severe disadvantage by this subjugation. They make up about 5% of the world population but 15% of them exist in extreme poverty. The human rights of Indigenous peoples had long been treated as a domestic matter for the states in which their territory fell. This often had disastrous consequences, particularly in terms of their culture and socio-cultural human rights. Forcible attempts were made to assimilate Indigenous peoples in Canada, for example, through the state-sponsored residential school system, in which children were separated from their families, and housed in inhumane conditions. They were ‘educated’ as a means to stamping out Indigenous culture, whilst transferring the children onto the lower rungs of the economy. This practice continued for over a century and, along with other government policies, has been termed a cultural genocide. An international Indigenous rights system has developed during that time frame, however. There are now a number of international agreements and treaties that concern Indigenous peoples, most notably the UN’s Universal Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP). Whilst this has brought necessary attention to the plight of Indigenous peoples, it is not regarded as a fix-all solution. General Assembly President Sheikha Haya Rashed Al Khalifa has warned that ‘even with this progress, Indigenous peoples still face marginalization, extreme poverty and other human rights violations. They are often dragged into conflicts and land disputes that threaten their way of life and very survival.’ This article argues that these clashes have, to an extent, undermined the protections of Indigenous rights, and whilst Indigenous peoples are now recognized by the international human rights regime, they continue to be marginalized. There are fundamental disagreements between several states, not least Canada, and the international Indigenous rights regime. Some of these are ideological, owing to the nature of Indigenous cultural rights themselves and to their uncomfortable fit within the international, ‘universal’ human rights regime that has been prominent since 1945. Other problems are more practical, stemming from the profound clashes between Indigenous cultural beliefs and the more Eurocentric values that tend to underpin modern, Western political and economic systems. A critical examination of the international Indigenous rights system is presented here, with Canada used as a case study. The background and development of the international Indigenous right system is outlined and explained, and its evident strengths and weaknesses briefly described. The article then examines ideological clashes between Western conceptions of human rights and Indigenous rights: self-determination, cultural, and land rights, as well as the collective nature of Indigenous rights. The practical incompatibilities between Indigenous peoples in Canada, and Canada as a sovereign settler state are then evaluated. This will point to the conclusion that the cause of Indigenous peoples has been only marginally advanced by the international Indigenous right system and that the future is not particularly promising.

How to assess the issue of indigenous land rights in the face of man-m⁠a⁠d⁠e climate change and Amazon fires? How to classify the EU free trade agreement „Mercosur“ and relevant climate, environmental and indigenous rights? What are legal opportunities for indigenous people(s) on the international, inter-American and EU level, to prevent the loss of land and forests, and to protect themselves from climate change? On the basis of indigenous land and environmental rights in Brazil and reactions to the Amazon fires, environmental regulations of the "Mercosur Pact" as well as concerned human and indigenous rights are discussed. Further, this article deals with relevant inter-American law (individual indigenous land rights) and international law (collective land rights). Environmental and climate law provide legal and political options for indigenous people(s), for instance in Brasil. Negative impacts of climate actions on indigenous peoples, the competition between environmental protection areas and indigenous territories, the inclusion of indigenous knowledge in sustainable environmental protection and the allocation of Global Public Goods are discussed. There are various interactions between climate and biodiversity protection, human rights, indigenous peoples rights, and free trade between the EU and South America. While protecting forests as a carbon sink, negative environmental or social consequences must be avoided. Like trade agreements, environmental standards for the protection of the Brazilian Amazon rain forest should be enforceable. To reduce deforestation and to confine the effects of climate change, indigenous peoples rights have to be strengthened. The free, prior, and informed consent of indigenous peoples to projects that may affect their territories is essential. It requires effective, coordinated solutions to protect human rights and indigenous land rights, and it needs a sustainable preservation of climate and forests - nationally and internationally. A collapse of the Amazon forest ecosystem would have global climate effects. In Brazil, alternatives to deforestation and destruction are: strengthening the rule of law and agro-ecology, and to defend indigenous territories.

Atrial Fibrillation in Remote Indigenous and Non-Indigenous Individuals Hospitalised in Central Australia

Background Exercise capacity is a powerful predictor of all-cause mortality. However, its association with Indigenous populations in Central Australia, who face disproportionate health burdens, is unclear. Given the isolation from tertiary centers, exercise testing could provide useful local risk-stratification. Purpose To characterize the association of exercise capacity with all-cause mortality in Indigenous and non-Indigenous individuals in remote Central Australia. Methods Demographic, medication, and all-cause mortality data were prospectively collected from patients undergoing exercise stress tests from 2007–2017. Results A total of 3,414 patients (34% Indigenous) were included. At 4.8±2.9 years of follow-up, 86 (2.5%) deaths had occurred. Each 1-MET increase in exercise capacity conferred a 14% lower risk for mortality among Indigenous individuals (HR 0.86, 95% CI 0.79–0.94) and 20% lower risk for mortality among non-Indigenous individuals (HR 0.80, 95% CI 0.73–0.89) after adjusting for age, comorbidities, and medications. Mortality risk reduction for each 1-MET increase in exercise capacity was similar (p=0.32) for Indigenous and non-Indigenous individuals. Conclusions Exercise capacity is a significant predictor of all-cause mortality in Indigenous and non-Indigenous individuals. These findings have important clinical implications towards exercise capacity for risk-stratification and preventative importance of physical activity.

The Return of the Native

I am grateful for the financial contributions provided by the Canadian Indigenous of Health Research (CIHR), Institute of Indigenous Peoples Health and Gender and Health, with First Nations Health Authority, the Canadian Nurses Foundation, and the University of Victoria.

The definition and scope of indigenous peoples' human rights are usually contentious in the context of Africa.2While in recent years indigenous peoples' human rights have expanded immensely internationally, in Africa indigenous peoples' rights are still perceived to be in their infancy.3At the United Nations, the group of African States delayed the process that finally led to the adoption of the United Nations Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples in 2007 (UNDRIP).4At a national level, most of the States in Africa are still reluctant to recognize the specific rights of indigenous peoples.5Until recently, the African Commission on Human and Peoples' Rights (the Commission), the leading human rights institution for the continent,6had kept a low profile on the issue and had ‘not always interpreted indigenous peoples’ rights favourably'.7From this perspective Commission regarding the communication submitted by the indigenous Endorois community against Kenya casts new light on the rights of indigenous peoples in Africa.8The decision, which has already been hailed as a ‘landmark,’9touches on several crucial issues regarding the development of indigenous peoples' human rights in Africa. This groundbreaking decision did not materialize unexpectedly but is part of a wider evolution of the Commission regarding indigenous peoples' human rights in Africa. It echoes the work of the Commission's own Working Group of Experts on Indigenous Populations/Communities (Working Group) which was established in 2001 with the mandate to focus specifically on the promotion and protection of the rights of indigenous peoples in Africa.10The mandate of the Working Group is to examine the concept of indigenous communities in Africa, as well as to analyse their rights under the African Charter on Human and Peoples' Rights (African Charter).11In 2003 the Commission adopted the report of the Working Group which proposes several avenues for the recognition and promotion of indigenous rights in Africa.12The adoption of an Advisory Opinion by the Commission to support the adoption of UNDRIP marked another step toward the affirmation of indigenous peoples' rights in Africa.13The Advisory Opinion not only participated in unlocking the reluctance of the group of African States to adopt the UNDRIP, but also reflected developments taking place at the international level on the rights of indigenous peoples as well as their connection to the continent. Remarkably, in recent years, the Commission has started to refer to indigenous peoples' rights in its examination of States' periodic reports.14All these factors and the recent decision of the Commission in the Endorois case indicate the emergence of a consistent jurisprudence on indigenous peoples' rights in Africa.

The International Labour Organisation (ILO) has adopted the only two international Conventions on indigenous and tribal peoples: the Indigenous and Tribal Populations Convention, 1957 (No. 107), which was revised and replaced by the Indigenous and Tribal Peoples Convention, 1989 (No. 169). One of the most interesting parts of the story of how these two conventions came into existence and have been applied, is the positive role of workers’ organisations in both adopting and supervising them. Why the ILO? A first point to address is why these Conventions were adopted under the auspices of the ILO at all, and not the United Nations (UN). The ILO was established in 1919 at the same time as the League of Nations. Early on it began to examine the situation of ‘native peoples’ – populations of colonised countries in Africa and Asia in particular, who had no rights and no protection in their work lives. They were often subject to forced labour and other forms of severe exploitation. The ILO had been established to adopt international Conventions to regulate working life, and soon adopted the Forced Labour Convention (No. 29) in 1930 aimed in particular at making forced labour of indigenous populations illegal. The organisation went on to adopt other conventions on such things as hours and other conditions of work to protect these colonised peoples, in a group of instruments known as the ‘native labour code’ – a real advance in international law and in protection. This was one of the first concrete steps towards decolonisation. After World War II, the ILO became the first specialised agency of the new UN system, as the only surviving part of the League of Nations. As it resumed work, one of the major work items became the situation of life and work for those groups that the ILO termed ‘indigenous and tribal peoples’ – meaning the huge numbers of those the organisation considered to be ‘primitive’ peoples, who were largely outside the formal economy or were living in an economically marginal situation. This kind of paternalistic attitude was prevalent in the international development community and in many countries for years after this, but it did result in some badly needed protections. One of the concrete results was the adoption of the Indigenous and Tribal Populations Convention, 1957 (No. 107). The Convention was adopted by the ILO, at the behest of and on behalf of the entire UN system, and with their full cooperation, because at that time the UN itself had no experience in adopting conventions and the ILO had already begun working on the issue. Convention 107 was an important working tool of the ILO for many years, and guided a number of technical interventions on the ground. However, for more than 25 years after the adoption of Convention 107, the workers’ contingent played little role in its promotion or supervision, and the Convention gradually lost its relevance in the face of changing developments. Over time it became apparent that the orientation of C107 was very patronising and was intended to promote assimilation and the eventual abandonment of indigenous cultures, and there were calls for the Convention to be revised. The ILO revised the Convention in 1989, when it adopted the Indigenous and Tribal Peoples Convention, 1989 (No. 169). Today Convention 169 remains the only international Convention that can be ratified, which deals directly with the rights and cultures of these vulnerable peoples. And this is where the contribution of workers’ organisations has become prominent. A new wind As the UN began its work on this subject the early 1970s, indigenous peoples became increasingly aware of the potential for international help. The first indigenous non-governmental organisation (NGO) – the World Council of Indigenous Peoples - was established in Canada in 1975. This set off a wave of international activism as indigenous peoples began to seek relief at the international level from persecution and loss of lands and rights. However, proponents of indigenous rights found Convention 107 to be paternalistic and oriented more toward assimilation than protection, as the longer-term solution to the ‘Indigenous problem’. And they were right. The Convention had been adopted at a time when the new UN and its component parts (including the ILO) took...

SARS-CoV-2 has led to >270 million infections and >5 million deaths globally. Indigenous people are disproportionately affected by infectious diseases, therefore also more susceptible to the COVID-19 pandemic. There are an estimated 476 million indigenous people globally, including an estimated 798,365 Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander in Australia. With the high vulnerability to COVID-19, this knowledge is urgently needed to better protect indigenous populations. We evaluated a breadth of immune responses in indigenous (n=57) and non-indigenous (n=49) individuals after COVID-19 vaccination. We tested RBD antibodies, spike/RBD-probe-specific B cells, peptide stimulations with activation-induced marker (AIM) assay and intracellular cytokine staining. We found 22% and 34% seroconversion rates after 1st dose of BNT162b2 vaccine for Indigenous and non-indigenous individuals, respectively, which increased to 100% at 1-mth after 2nd dose for both groups. RBD-specific IgG levels in indigenous individuals at 1-mth after 2nd dose positively correlated with their body mass index. At 1-mth after the 2nd COVID-19 vaccination, CD4+ and CD8+ T cell responses via AIM expression and IFN-γ+ TNF+ production was comparable between indigenous and non-indigenous individuals. We are also going to assess the longevity of antibodies and T cells. Therefore, COVID-19 vaccination induced similar immune responses in indigenous and non-indigenous individuals.

It is estimated that there are more than 470 million Indigenous people spread across 90 countries worldwide, making up more than 6% of the world’s population. Significant advancements in global Indigenous rights have occurred in modern international law since the early 20th century. The establishment of the League of Nations provided an early framework for notions of self-governance, and the establishment of the United Nations in the mid-20th century prompted the rise of Indigenous rights to be situated within the framework of international human rights law. Human rights law emerged from the need expressed in the 1945 UN Charter and the 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights to protect and secure the fundamental freedoms and rights of all humans. The first recognition of Indigenous peoples in the international legal order came with the 1957 International Labor Organization (ILO) Convention 107. Since the first recognition, there have been numerous advancements in the establishment of rights for Indigenous populations, most notably the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, the International Decades of the World’s Indigenous Peoples, the International Decade of Indigenous Languages, and the International Year for the World’s Indigenous People, as well as in areas of Indigenous cultural heritage and cultural rights. A world-systems approach to Indigenous rights sheds light on contradictory nature of rights, namely, that the rise of human rights has dovetailed with neoliberal globalization under the law. The connection between market fundamentalism and the expansion of human rights has been met with resistance by Indigenous peoples who have provided alternative realities, ways of social organizing, and protection of land and environment that center Indigenous ways of knowing and being. As a result, Indigenous rights have been shaped by the Indigenous peoples teaching the rest of the world the importance of moving away from “individual rights” and toward mutual responsibility and obligation.

The patatin like phospholipase domain-containing (PNPLA3) I148M variant is the strongest genetic factor associated with elevated alanine transaminase (ALT) levels in different populations, particularly in Hispanics who have the highest 148M risk allele frequency reported to date. It has been suggested that Indigenous ancestry is associated with higher ALT levels in Mexicans. The aim of the present study was to assess the frequency of the PNPLA3 148M risk allele in Mexican indigenous and Mestizo individuals, and to examine its association with serum ALT levels. The study included a total of 1624 Mexican individuals: 919 Indigenous subjects from five different native groups and 705 Mexican Mestizo individuals (141 cases with ALT levels ≥ 40 U/L and 564 controls with ALT <40 U/L). The I148M polymorphism was genotyped by TaqMan assays. The frequency of elevated ALT levels in Indigenous populations was 18.7%, and varied according to obesity status: 14.4% in normal weight, 19.9% in overweight and 24.5% in obese individuals. The Mexican indigenous populations showed the highest reported frequency of the PNPLA3 148M risk allele (mean 0.73). The M148M genotype was significantly associated with elevated ALT levels in indigenous individuals (OR = 3.15, 95 % CI 1.91-5.20; P = 7.1 × 10(-6)) and this association was confirmed in Mexican Mestizos (OR = 2.24, 95% CI 1.50-3.33; P = 8.1 × 10(-5)). This is the first study reporting the association between M148M genotype and elevated ALT levels in Indigenous Mexican populations. The 148M allele risk may be considered an important risk factor for liver damage in Mexican indigenous and Mestizo populations.

ABSTRACTRacialized and Indigenous communities have been disproportionately affected by COVID‐19 infections and mortality, driven by systemic socioeconomic inequalities. However, how these factors specifically influence COVID‐19 vaccine uptake is not documented among racialized individuals in Canada. The present study aims to examine COVID‐19 vaccine uptake rates and related factors among racialized and Indigenous communities compared to White people in Canada. In total, 41,931 individuals aged 16 and older, consisting mainly of Arab, Asian, Black, Indigenous, and White individuals, were randomly invited to participate from a panel of 420,000 Canadian households. A total of 4220 participants completed this cross‐sectional survey study in October 2023. In total, 89.60% of participants were vaccinated: 2.38% received one dose, 31.45% received two doses, 33.46% received three doses, 18.86% received four doses, and 13.86% received five doses and more. There were significant differences according to racial and ethnic background in vaccine uptake (χ2 = 57.45, p < 0.001), with Indigenous and Black individuals having lower vaccination rates (83.54%, OR = 1.98% and 84.76%, OR = 2.16, p < 0.01) compared to White individuals (91.66%). Confidence in health authorities was positively associated with vaccine uptake (B = 0.62, p < 0.001). Conspiracy beliefs partially mediated this association (B = −0.13, p < 0.001). Racial discrimination attenuated vaccine uptake, even if respondents had confidence in health authorities (B = −0.08, p < 0.001). Vaccine uptake was lowest amongst Indigenous and Black communities, placing them at higher risk of severe COVID‐19 infection. In addition to mistrust of public health authorities due to racism, racialized communities are affected by conspiracy beliefs that hinder COVID‐19 vaccine uptake. A whole‐of‐society approach to address barriers to vaccine uptake among racialized populations, including wage disparities, racial discrimination, is needed to eliminate racial health disparities and increase vaccination rates in racialized communities.