The white Canadian woman writer’s problematic relation with appropriated land in Carol Shields’s Small Ceremonies

This study aimed to understand whether, and to what extent, Kenyan legal provisions are sufficient to secure community land rights, particularly those of indigenous peoples and local communities. It assesses the adequacy of Kenya’s legal framework for protecting and promoting tenure rights of forest communities, including over protected areas. There is an enduring problem pertaining to historical land injustices, where certain indigenous peoples and local communities have sought formal recognition of their land rights over areas classified as public land, which are managed mainly as public forests or national wildlife reserves. The analysis uses three indicators to evaluate the levels of protection and securing of community land and forest tenure rights: the scope and security of tenure; the legal status and protection of indigenous peoples’ (forest peoples’) tenure rights; and community participation in management of public forests. It demonstrates that there are improvements in legal protection for indigenous communities. Nonetheless, a legal conundrum results from how Kenyan courts have interpreted the law concerning claims by certain indigenous communities over land falling under article 63(2)(d)(i) of the Constitution, mainly classified as public land or forests. For example, whereas the African court recognized the Ogiek rights over Mau Forest, the Kenyan courts have declined to do so. Also, despite its finding, the African Court did not prescribe how those land rights can be actualized; and the courts in Kenya have advised the communities to utilize the resolution of historical land injustices procedures prescribed in law. This Occasional Paper explores this case and others.

In 2001 a new Land Law was adopted in Cambodia. It was significant because – for the first time – it recognised a new legal category of people, ‘Indigenous Peoples’ or chuncheat daoem pheak tech in Khmer, and it also introduced the legal concept of communal land rights to Cambodia. Indigenous Peoples are not mentioned in the 1993 constitution of Cambodia or any legislation pre‐dating the 2001 Land Law. However, Cambodia's 2002 Forestry Law also followed the trend by recognising ‘Indigenous Peoples’. These laws have been both symbolically and practically important, as they have provided government‐mandated legitimacy to Indigenous identities and associated land and forest rights, including communal land rights, and have been ontologically significant in dividing Indigenous and non‐Indigenous Peoples on legal grounds. Over a decade after the 2001 Land Law was promulgated, this article considers some aspects of its effects. In particular, when compared with the potential for developing communal land rights in Laos, one has to wonder how advantageous it is to adopt Indigenous identities and the types of communal land rights and community forestry rights presently possible in Cambodia.

Corporate actors significantly impact indigenous peoples'' domestically and internationally recognized land rights. For half a century, the pursuit of oil by Royal Dutch Shell in the Niger Delta has produced a cycle of violence with lasting effects on the Ogoni peoples'' occupancy, use, and control of their traditional lands and resources, and thereby, their way of life. In the United States, mining by Barrick Gold Corporation, a Canadian multinational corporate actor, has threatened the Western Shoshone peoples'' ability to continue the traditional use of their lands for cultural, religious, and food subsistence activities. In the Philippines, despite recent legislative enactments requiring the informed consent of indigenous peoples prior to the exploration and development of natural resources on their lands, indigenous resistance to extractive projects has been overridden by the mining interests of TVI Pacific, a Canadian company, and Crew Development Corporation, a Norwegian Canadian company. Similarly, despite constitutional guarantees regarding the protection of indigenous territories in Colombia, the U''wa peoples continue to experience threats to the preservation of their lands and resources by oil companies such as Occidental Petroleum of the United States. Ultimately, challenges to the observance of indigenous peoples'' land rights may persist where corporate actors are able to obviate any meaningful accountability to indigenous peoples. Indeed, a breadth of scholarly literature suggests that corporate actors often bypass any meaningful liability under both domestic and international legal accountability frameworks for activities that could constitute violations of indigenous peoples'' land rights. Broadly, the following questions could serve to frame further analyses of such an accountability gap across the domestic-international divide. First, who are the actors and what are the interests that contribute to the existing accountability gap with respect to corporate activity that violates indigenous peoples'' recognized land rights? Second, what possibilities exist for assigning meaningful corporate accountability for such activity within existing domestic accountability frameworks? Third, could the international system constitute an effective site for the assignment of corporate accountability in this context?This essay undertakes a representative case study of the U''wa peoples'' resistance to oil activities by Occidental Petroleum, and through such a case study, provides a focused analysis of corporate accountability for violations of indigenous peoples'' land rights across the domestic-international divide. Engaging this analysis through the U''wa case study is particularly useful because the U''wa sought recourse for alleged violations of their land rights under both domestic and international accountability frameworks. Part I of this essay examines the interests of the primary parties involved in the oil exploration project and reviews the domestic and international avenues of legal recourse that were available to the U''wa against Occidental Petroleum. Drawing conclusions from this case study, Part II analyzes the scope and potential limits of existing domestic approaches to corporate accountability for violations of indigenous peoples'' land rights. Part III further analyzes the scope and potential limits of existing approaches to corporate accountability under international law. This essay concludes that domestic avenues of corporate accountability available to indigenous peoples are often ineffective where state and corporate interests are aligned in the execution of large-scale land development projects, particularly projects involving natural resource extraction. As a result, this essay prompts further inquiry into potential international legal responses to indigenous peoples'' claims regarding the ownership, occupancy, use, and control of their traditional lands and natural resources vis-a-vis corporate actors. To that end, the conclusion identifies remaining questions that should be addressed in the context of theorizing international approaches.

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.

According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the term coalition comes from the Latin coalescere or ‘coalesce’, meaning “come or bring together to form one mass or whole”. Coalesce refers to the unity affirmed as something grows: co – “together”, alesce – “to grow up”. While coalition is commonly associated with formalised alliances and political strategy in the name of self-interest and common goals, this paper will draw as well on the broader etymological understanding of coalition as “growing together” in order to discuss the Australian government’s recent changes to land rights legislation, the 2007 Emergency Intervention into the Northern Territory, and its decision to use Indigenous land in the Northern Territory as a dumping ground for nuclear waste.

The land rights of the indigenous people of the Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT) in Bangladesh have deep historical roots dating back centuries. This article series examines the impact of various policies and programs, from the colonial era to the present, on the indigenous communities' land rights and traditional way of life. It discusses challenges faced by the indigenous people, loss of ancestral lands due to government interventions, and the significance of the Peace Accord of 1997 in addressing these issues. The evolution of land rights issues, loss of traditional privileges, displacement due to development projects, and the struggle for recognition and autonomy are analyzed, emphasizing the need for effective resolution of indigenous land and resource rights.

In a bid to protect the country’s biodiversity, the government of Cameroon became party to the Convention of Biological Diversity. However, the conventions recent post 2020 and its 30 by 30 target which is aimed at designating 30% of earth’s land and Oceans has caused a lot of controversy amongst human rights advocates because of the threat it poses to indigenous land rights and has been welcomed by conservationist because of the potential it has towards the protection of biodiversity. This study was conducted to address the threat posed by the Convention on Biological Diversity and its 30 by 30 target to land rights of indigenous and traditional communities in Cameroon. The study employs a qualitative data analysis to arrive at the findings. Implementing the Convention of Biological Diversity post 2020 and its 30 by 30 target will further increase the land rights of indigenous communities in a country that already has a history of violating the land rights of indigenous communities. In order to ensure that the implementation of the Convention on biological diversity post 2020 and it’s 30 by 30 targets don’t violate the land rights of indigenous and traditional communities in Cameroon, the state must adopt a human rights-based approach towards conservation and also ensure that indigenous communities are not left out in the decision-making process in decisions that affects them directly.

MaboLandmark and paradox Rhonda Evans Geoff Rodoreda and Eva Bischoff, eds. Mabo's Cultural Legacy. Melbourne: Anthem Press, 2021. 210 pp. A$125. ISBN: 9781785274294 "Mabo." The word conveys multiple meanings. It identifies a man, Eddie Koiki Mabo; it is shorthand for the High Court decision, Mabo and Others v Queensland (No 2) (1992) 175 CLR 1, that rejected the legal doctrine of terra nullius upon which Australia was colonized; and it marks a torturous turning point in relations between Australia's Indigenous peoples and its settler society. This edited volume by Geoff Rodoreda and Eva Bischoff collects papers presented at a 2017 workshop held in Stuttgart, Germany, that considered the complex cultural legacies of Mabo the man, Mabo the judicial decision, and Mabo the catalyst for change. It addresses profound questions about sovereignty as that concept applies to Indigenous land rights, Indigenous storytelling, and the authoritative definition of Indigenous identity. Because I come to the book as a lawyer and political scientist, my engagement with these subjects has been primarily from those disciplinary perspectives. I found the volume an insightful and accessible account of Mabo's cultural impact and implications. The introductory and closing chapters are especially strong. The volume's editors, Rodoreda and Bischoff, cogently yet concisely articulate the book's recurring themes. Mabo, they explain, embodies a cruel paradox. While the decision jettisons terra nullius from Australia's law books and recognizes Native Title, it simultaneously denies Indigenous sovereignty and sanctifies the dispossession of Indigenous land rights (2). Mabo's cultural significance, Rodoreda and Bischoff contend, derives from its "focus on territory, its specific intervention in historical narrative and its being spoken as law" (3). Because the authors refrain from rehearsing the content of the chapters that follow, Rodoreda and Bischoff's introduction works well as a stand-alone piece. The remainder of the volume is divided into five main sections, focusing on history, politics, film, literature, and memoir. A pair of historical chapters provide greater context for both Mabo the man and Mabo the judicial decision. Focusing on the Australian state of Victoria, Russell and Standfield recount decades-long efforts by Aboriginal activists for land and political rights, including freedom from the oppressive laws that from the mid-nineteenth century through the 1930s purported to "protect" them. Their contribution positions Mabo the man and Mabo the decision within the longer and broader struggles of Australia's Indigenous peoples. [End Page 291] Turnbull, by contrast, offers a more personal account of Eddie and Bonita Mabo's work in the Townsville community, especially with respect to providing educational opportunities for Indigenous peoples. His attention to Bonita's role corrects a general tendency to overlook her own considerable contributions. Turnbull's chapter also offers an interesting, firsthand perspective on the vibrant intellectual life of James Cook University in the 1980s, populated by the likes of Professor Henry Reynolds and Oodgeroo Noonuccal. This was the milieu in which Eddie Mabo formulated his own ideas about the world and his place in it. The legislative regime created to determine Native Title claims constitutes a key legacy of the Mabo decision. Two chapters examine the politics and practice of central elements of that regime. From anthropological and linguistic perspectives, respectively, Wergin and Ringel illustrate the important ways in which the regime's legal rules interact with Indigenous identities, shape those identities as well as the accompanying claims to land, and engender conflict among Indigenous peoples. Together, the chapters showcase the continuing centrality of the Australian state's sovereign role in defining and determining rights to land. They also illustrate the ways in which the regime empowers and privileges anthropologists and linguists in the Native Title process. A trio of chapters address issues concerning Mabo and film. Collectively, they highlight the importance of Indigenous peoples obtaining the requisite resources to tell their stories from their perspectives, or in other words, to exercise storytelling sovereignty. Chapters by Moreton and Davis and Kilroy do an excellent job of describing the development of both institutional capacity and film-production practices at Screen Australia and within the private sector that facilitate Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander storytelling for both television and film. These developments, Moreton and...

Despite a noticeable shift in recent years, indigenous peoples in Asia continue to experience many forms of human rights violations, with the most serious perhaps being the loss of traditional lands and territories. The purpose of this paper is to examine indigenous peoples’ land rights and its application in Southeast Asia. To that end, the paper will provide an overview of the development of indigenous peoples’ land rights internationally; offer regional perspectives from the Inter-American Court of Human Rights and the African Commission for Human and Peoples’ Rights; analyze the concept of indigenous peoples in Asia, juxtaposing it with concurrent difficulties being experienced on the African continent; examine three countries (Cambodia, the Philippines, and Malaysia) that recognize indigenous peoples’ land rights to some extent, whether through constitutional amendments, legislative reform, or domestic jurisprudence; and highlight the implementation gap between the rights of indigenous peoples in law and practice.

This article aims to provide an understanding of Indigenous Peoples land rights as human rights, focusing on the lens of global human rights mechanisms. It begins by setting out the historical development of the Indigenous Peoples movement for recognition and its relationship to land rights. The discussion then outlines the concept of land rights from Indigenous Peoples’ perspective – namely, land rights as a means of survival with culture, identity, and dignity. After presenting an interpretation of Indigenous Peoples land rights as individual and collective rights, the article then explores the relevance of core provisions of the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples and other UN mechanisms and their connection to policy and practice at the domestic level. Finally, the argument addresses Indigenous Peoples’ perspective on land and the interrelationship of political, legal, and policy formulations on land rights and their impact on policy and practice

Across the world, about 1.6 billion people are estimated to live in and depend on forest landscapes for their livelihoods. Yet less than half of the lands and territories claimed by Indigenous Peoples and local communities are formally recognized by governments. Research shows that Indigenous Peoples and local communities are among the most effective groups are conserving and sustainably managing the land and forests that they live and depend on. If we know this, the question becomes how do we expand their rights to natural resources? What opportunities exist to strengthen their land and forest tenure rights? After more than a decade of engaging with Indigenous Peoples and local communities through REDD+ readiness and implementation efforts, participant countries of the Forest Carbon Partnership Facility (FCPF) have gained insights into what is needed to strengthen communal and collective land forest tenure. This comprehensive report provides an assessment of countries affiliated with the FCPF’s Carbon Fund and lays out cross-cutting challenges as well as opportunities to advance Indigenous Peoples’ and local communities’ land rights.

Recognising the role of local and Indigenous communities in managing natural resources for the greater public benefit: Case studies from Asia and Oceania region

Reviewed by: A Common Hunger: Land Rights in Canada and South Africa Peter Russell Joan G. Fairweather . A Common Hunger: Land Rights in Canada and South Africa. University of Calgary Press. xxi, 260. $39.95 In a very broad sense the encounters of indigenous peoples in Canada and Black South Africans with European imperialism follow similar storylines: centuries of domination and dispossession motivated by racism and greed until, in the late twentieth century, recovery begins. That is the kernel of what is 'common' to the hunger of the two sets of peoples who are the subject of Joan Fairweather's book. But, of course, it is the differences within that picture that are most interesting and instructive. The difference of crucial importance is that between a group of long-established nations becoming a marginalized minority and trying to survive in a state dominated by descendants of their colonial oppressors, and an oppressed people who are now the majority trying to use the instruments of constitutional democracy to redress injustices of the recent past. Although Joan Fairweather is well aware of this fundamental difference, her account of the past and of the possibilities for the future, too often fails to take its implications into account. Part of the difficulty stems from lack of clarity in her treatment of 'indigenous peoples.' In her preface, she explains, 'The indigenous peoples of both countries are referred to generically as "first peoples" or "aboriginal peoples." ' These terms apply clearly enough to the Canadian situation. But in applying them to South Africa, she says that 'African' refers to 'South Africa's indigenous Bantu-speaking inhabitants.' As the book [End Page 341] proceeds, too often her analysis fails to distinguish the situation of peoples like the Khoe-San, who as small marginalized peoples are struggling to retain their culture and a measure of autonomy within contemporary South Africa and are considered 'indigenous peoples' in the United Nations definition of that term, from the circumstances and aspirations of South Africa's Black majority. Greater sensitivity to the differences between the position of indigenous peoples in Canada and that of Bantu-speaking South Africans is essential to understanding why critics of Aboriginal self-government in Canada are so mistaken in referring to it as a form of apartheid. Under apartheid Black South Africans were forcibly removed to Bantustans, whereas for Aboriginal peoples the 'self-government' movement is the manifestation of their aspiration to gain recognition of their responsibility for their societies and their traditional lands. Fairweather, a South African writer and historian who is now working as an archivist in Ottawa, has a much stronger grasp of apartheid and efforts to overcome its legacy than she does of North America's indigenous peoples and their struggle for recognition and justice. The author does not have a firm enough grasp of legal material to provide a good comparative analysis of land rights in the two countries. She does not seem to know about the historical and jurisprudential underpinnings of common law Aboriginal title. For her it is simply 'the English case method.' This means that we cannot learn much from her book on how the implementation of land rights in South Africa's constitution compares with the recognition of Aboriginal title elsewhere in the common law world. The strength of Fairweather's book is its well-written narrative account of the injustices and hardship suffered by indigenous peoples in Canada and Black South Africa and her sympathetic but shrewd assessment of their prospects of recovery from this experience. Peter Russell Department of Political Science, University of Toronto Copyright © 2008 University of Toronto Press Incorporated

The Return of the Native

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.