It looked to be a nuclear renaissance set on Canada’s sub-Arctic plains.
Over the past few years, a series of companies secured rights to remote stretches of Inuit land that hide rich troves of uranium. One project alone, the five mines that make up the Kiggavik proposal from French nuclear giant Areva, stands poised to increase Canada’s uranium output by 35 per cent.
But before the first pounds of yellowcake are harvested from the tundra, a fearful word has entered the debate: Fukushima. The Japanese nuclear plant, which melted down recently, has become synonymous with renewed worry about the safety and ethics of atomic energy. Indeed, even in the farthest stretches of the country, Fukushima is raising new questions for Inuit now considering whether to mine nuclear fuel from their soil. The renaissance is stumbling.
In Nunavut, two separate reviews, one by the territorial government and one by the organization that manages Inuit lands, Nunavut Tunngavik Inc., are considering whether and how to proceed with uranium in development. In northern Labrador, the Inuit Nunatsiavut government stands ready to decide whether to renew a three-year moratorium on uranium mining that came up for review at the end of March.
The Fukushima disaster has unfolded in the midst of all three reviews.
“The timing couldn’t have been worse for discussing this issue,” said Rick Mazur, the chief executive officer of Forum Uranium, which has interests in 245,000 hectares of prospective Nunavut land.
The renewed worries about nuclear safety have arisen at a critical time for Canada’s Inuit, as they try to reconcile new gains from the mining industry with the impact of uranium mining on people and a fragile landscape.
Land claims have given Inuit a powerful voice in what activity can take place on their land. If they say yes, the North could become like a new Saskatchewan, where uranium becomes a major economic driver. If they say no, they could steer the region away from a controversial energy source, but also an uncertain economic future.
Sandra Inutiq chairs a group called Nunavummiut Makitagunarningit, which translates to “Nunavummiut can rise up” and she has opposed uranium development. In an interview, Ms. Inutiq warned that allowing uranium development will transform parts of Nunavut into “a wasteland of tailings.”
She believes the message has been widely received.
“My sense is that people aren’t for it.”
And, she added, Fukushima has raised the stakes, as Inuit contemplate the ethical implications of allowing uranium from their territory to be exported around the world – even though no one has died from the Fukushima disaster and industry says nuclear technology is safe.
Uranium mines and nuclear reactors are, of course, very different enterprises. But an accident at a nuclear plant is still, for many, cause to question uranium. Such concern has driven government consultation meetings late into the night as the territory and residents grapple with the issue.
“The nuclear disaster has brought about another facet to the discussion,” said Terry Audla, the chief executive officer of Nunavut Tunngavik Inc. “It’s brought about awareness as to the end result of nuclear power and its possible consequences.”
The government nuclear-policy review is expected to report later this summer. NTI will then launch its own review, in which a broad range of scenarios – from restricting development to maintaining a status quo that allows it to proceed – will be considered.
“It’s all up for discussion,” Mr. Audla said. “It’s a matter of, with the resources that are available to Nunavut, whether they want to exploit it and whether there’s any special requirements with respect to the exploitation of that ore.”
