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Introduction

For several decades, numerous reports and publications have pointed out the failings of the justice system in Nunavik (Arctic Quebec), which are similar to those in other Inuit-inhabited Canadian regions (Desruisseaux, 2020; Inuit Justice Task Force et al., 1993; Jaccoud, 1995a, 1995b; Laneuville, 2015, 2017; Latraverse, 2022; Public Inquiry Commission on Relations Between Indigenous Peoples And Certain Public Services, 2019). These failings have many causes, but language is undoubtedly a leading one. Nunavik is the region of Inuit Nunangat (Canadian Inuit territory) where the Inuit language, Inuktitut, is the most widely spoken. In 2016, 99% of the population could speak it, and only 14.3% spoke another language more often at home (Duhaime et al., 2021). As a key part of their culture and widely used by Nunavimmiut (the inhabitants of Nunavik), Inuktitut thus plays a crucial role in Inuit societies. It also plays a fundamental role in the legal sphere, particularly in the Itinerant Court of Nunavik, where three languages coexist (French, English, and two Inuktitut dialects, one on the Hudson coast and one on the Ungava coast). Thus, in a situation where proceedings are not primerly held in Inuktitut (as the primary actors of the legal system are not Inuit), without the presence of court interpreters, many Inuit would not fully understand the charges against them, the lawyers’ questions, or the court’s decisions. As recently reported by me: “interpreters are essential to the smooth operation of the Itinerant Court” (2022, p. 31).

The right to court interpretation is protected in different texts: section 14 of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms (1982), section 36 of the Quebec Charter of Human Rights and Freedoms (1975) and section 20.0.10 of the James Bay and Northern Quebec Agreement (1975). Yet, more than thirty years after the creation of the Itinerant Court of Nunavik, it is still difficult to ensure quality interpretation throughout the process and for all stakeholders (Latraverse, 2022, p. 31). Court interpreters also face different challenges in the course of their duties, while some Inuit do not take advantage of their presence for different reasons. Such failings directly affect individual and collective Inuit rights, including full access to justice.

In this paper, we will show the crucial role of Inuit court interpreters in the justice system and how the proceedings benefit from their presence. By analyzing the challenges of language, we will gain insight into the ontological conflicts that lie at the heart of the criminal justice system and that lead to certain injustices, which interpreters attempt to redress as cultural mediators. This article concerns matters of criminal law and youth protection, but not civil justice, as these are the legal issues that are being dealt with in front of the Itinerant Court. Our analysis will lead us to examine the very concept of justice and better understand what it means from the Nunavimmiut point of view.

For this analysis, we will draw on results from a three-year research project by the Sentinel North Research Chair on Relations with Inuit Societies[1] (hereinafter CRIS) “Saimatsianiq: Documenting, mobilizing, and promoting Inuit legal practices to preserve social harmony in Nunavik.” The project was funded by Justice Canada. We partnered with the Makivvik Corporation Justice Department[2] and the Legal, Socio-Judicial, and Municipal Management Department of the Kativik Regional Government (KRG). The project has three objectives: 1) document legal knowledge and practices used by Nunavimmiut who work in justice-related services; 2) mobilize such knowledge and practices within Nunavik justice programs and with the communities and youth; and 3) promote Inuit legal knowledge and practices among non-Inuit in the justice system and with the two levels of government. This participatory research involves activities that also seek to assist Inuit justice workers, strengthen their trust and capabilities, and help develop culturally appropriate practices.

1. Background

The jurisdiction of the Court of Québec in Nunavik extends primarily to criminal matters and youth protection. It has been sitting on an itinerant basis in Nunavik communities since 1975, the date of the signing of the James Bay and Northern Quebec Agreement, which formally established the Itinerant Court of Abitibi (Chapter 20). In 2023, it sat in eight of the fourteen Inuit communities (Internal correspondance of the coordinating judge of the judiciary district of Abitibi-Témiscamingue–Eeyou Istchee–Nunavik, 2023) rather than nine of the communities in 2022 (Government od Quebec, 2022). Non-Inuit court officers travel by plane from either Amos or Montreal whenever the court sits. Each sitting brings together the judge of the district, Crown prosecutors, defence lawyers, probation officers, and para-judicial workers. The judicial services of the Quebec Department of Justice provide court clerks, court organizers, and Inuit court interpreters, who must also be present at a court sitting.

The Itinerant Court must deal with issues such as overloaded schedules, delays due to adverse weather, and a lack of suitable rooms and premises (Barreau du Québec, 2014; Laneuville, 2015, p. 97; Latraverse, 2022). Another major issue is language (Laneuville, 2015, p. 98; Latraverse, 2022, pp. 27 and 54). At the Nunavik Itinerant Court, almost everyone speaks in a second language, thus making it difficult for people to understand each other. The mother tongue is usually French for court officials and Inuktitut for the Inuit accused, victim, and witnesses. English is the common language of use. As many Inuit poorly understand English, the presence of qualified interpreters is very important. At all court sessions two interpreters are therefore present, and the accused, victim, and the witnesses are offered their services, which they can accept or refuse. It is common for a person to refuse interpretation but still request that interpreters be present in the event that their services are required; for instance, in case a question is not fully understood. Although official figures are lacking, the percentage of requests for interpretation services varies greatly by community. Most people do not request interpretation services in Kuujjuaq, the largest community in Nunavik, whereas demand is higher in smaller communities. Sometimes, people may refuse not because they feel interpretation is unnecessary but for other reasons: they feel embarrassed to ask for interpretation; they misunderstand the role of court interpreters; or they want to help expedite the proceedings.[3] It should be noted that court interpretation is consecutive (e.g., after a few sentences in Inuktitut by a participant, the court interpreter interprets them into English for the benefit of the non-Inuit participants) not simultaneous (where parties listen to live interpretation using headphones). It should also be noted that, in this situation, the version that serves as the official record of the court proceedings is the English one—highlighting the importance for interpreters to be accurate in their work.

The Itinerant Court has other issues to contend with. While communication technologies are increasingly being used since the COVID-19 pandemic—leading to numerous challenges, including the delivery of interpretation services—bail hearings have been conducted by videooconference for years now. Although these technologies do help, given the vast territory of Nunavik and the number of cases before the courts, they cannot always capture the non-verbal aspects of communication that an Inuk may use (facial expressions, moving their eyebrows in agreement, nodding, etc.), due to various technical reasons as well as poor internet connection. They also add a physical barrier to the existing cultural and linguistic ones. Finally, the laws and legal procedures are written only in French and English. Although there is a clear need to produce and distribute legal information in Inuktitut for Nunavik communities, it remains difficult because interpreters do not have any recent glossaries of Inuktitut legal terminology. Their terminology primarily comes from peers or is established through informal consensus among these language professionals.[4]

Interpreters are not the only Inuit who work in the justice system of Nunavik. The Makivvik Corporation Justice Department hires, among others, para-judicial workers who assist people brought to justice and coordinates local justice committees. The Legal, Socio-Judicial, and Municipal Management Department of the KRG hires community reintegration officers and Sapummijiit victim support agents (who belong to the CAVAC[5] network). Therefore, the Nunavik criminal justice system includes many Inuit workers, although they do not hold the most influential roles, the crucial positions of judges and lawyers are still held by non-Inuit. These Inuit employees perform their duties within an Inuit regional organization. Court interpreters, however, are self-employed and have no support from an organization that is particularly sensitive to their cultural identity and social realities. Our data indicate that this semi-isolation contributes to a feeling of being alone and unsupported. Interpreters have called for training, computer equipment, financial security, and psychological support to help them deal with the emotional burdens of their role.[6]

2. Theoretical Approach

2.1. Political Ontology and Legal Orders

Ontology rose to prominence in anthropology at the turn of the 2000s through a critique of culture in opposition to nature. Culture has long been used to understand and analyze the many ways we live in and represent the word. It is therefore underpinned by the ontological assumption that one single reality is out there (Blaser, 2013, p. 550). In opposition to this culturalist approach, Mario Blaser (2013) put forward the concept of “ontology as a heuristic device, a tool to rethink our analytical concepts” (p. 551). It is his opinion that ontology is not about perspectives or constructions of life. It is “a way of worlding” (p. 551) that includes practices, performances, and enactments. Political ontology is concerned with the points of contact between different ontologies; and it is at such points that one ontology may interfere and conflict with another (p. 553).

The existence or veracity of other ontologies has long been denied by the hegemonic story of modernity, which is based largely on the knowledge system of “universal science.” (Blaser, 2013, p. 555; Ingold, 2021; Latour, 2002, 2004; Santos, 2003). Blaser states that this story has recently come into a crisis and that this has “opened the door to the consideration of other ontologies as plausible and viable alternatives to the modern one” (Blaser, 2013, p. 556), what Escobar (2007) called the “ontological turn” in social theory. However, according to Blaser, so far, the crisis has only led to a shift from hegemony to domination (involving a hierarchy of worldings), and from coercion to persuasion (Blaser, 2013, p. 557). Thus, cultural and social realities cannot be analyzed and understood outside their political dimension, i.e., outside their relationships with other worldings.

The same is true for laws and legal orders. The law is a social phenomenon. It is based on a specific social, cultural, and historical reality and is not a fact detached from that reality (Friedman, 1986). Therefore, we start from the idea that the law is not the prerogative of Western society. On the contrary, legal practices, mechanisms, and symbols are part of every society and are generated by a particular vision of life, or lifeworld (Mills, 2016). They constitute a single legal order whose role, in each case, is to apply a society’s values and norms while regulating conflicts and maintaining social cohesion and balance (Dupret, 2006).

Like ontologies, legal orders are multiple and coemergent.[7] They exhibit inegalitarian and asymmetrical relationships that tend to disadvantage colonized Indigenous peoples (Fassin, 2016; Greenhouse et al., 1994; Rouland et al., 1996). Furthermore, ontologies and legal orders are interrelated, the former underlying the latter. When talking about Western law, which claims to be universal, Mattei and Nader (2008) refer to the “Rule of Law” as a “hegemonic superstructure” that has served to dispossess and marginalize Indigenous peoples around the world (Duchesne, 2017, p. 11). Today, many Indigenous authorities are trying to extend their jurisdiction and gain recognition for the validity and authority of their own legal order within or in place of the current one (Otis, 2019).

In Nunavik, legal practices and institutions have changed greatly through the imposition of external sources of authority, such as the State (Hervé, 2015), the law (Jaccoud, 1995a), Christianity (Laugrand, 2002), and science (Tester & Irniq, 2008). Yet, our research shows that Nunavimmiut traditional legal practices, knowledge, and mechanisms (Koperqualuk, 2015; Rouland, 1978, 1979; Saladin d’Anglure, 2016) remain present in their daily life (such as gossiping, conciliation, and ostracism). By examining criminal justice issues, we can identify the points of contact and conflict between distinct legal orders and ontologies, with a view to restoring Inuit knowledge and practices to their rightful place.

2.2. The Concept of Cultural Mediator

The concept of cultural mediator has been discussed not only in conflict studies but also in translation and interpretation studies. Translation and interpretation theorists acknowledge the roles of context and cultural difference, especially in a globalized world where intercultural communication is rising (Bassnett, 2012). Thus, they use concepts such as cultural mediator, cultural translator, and cultural interpreter. Although there is nothing new about the idea of translators and interpreters as mediating agents, cultural interpretation involves more than linguistic mediation (Katan, 2014, p. 16). As quoted by Katan (2014), a cultural mediator has the following role:

A cultural mediator is a person who facilitates communication, understanding, and action between persons or groups who differ with respect to language and culture. The role of the mediator is performed by interpreting the expressions, intentions, perceptions, and expectations of each cultural group to the other, that is, by establishing and balancing the communication between them. In order to serve as a link in this sense, the mediator must be able to participate to some extent in both cultures. Thus, a mediator must be to a certain extent bicultural.

Taft, 1981, p. 53

Translation studies also emphasize the debate between literal and functional translation: “The Skopos approach dismisses the idea of literal or even close translation and opts instead for a functional translation strategy, one that will serve the purpose for which the translation is being undertaken. The approach is underpinned by the idea of equivalent effect; hence there is a totally different concept of what constitutes equivalence” (Bassnett, 2012, p. 5). In such intercultural contexts, scholars seem to agree that ensuring strict word-for-word correspondence is much less important than communicating the idea (Katan, 2014, p. 18). Regarding Inuktitut interpretation specifically, Mahieu and Henitiuk (2019, p. 5) argue that, considering how words are constructed in Inuktitut, there is simply no one-to-one equivalence between an Inukitut word and an English work.

Some theorists therefore consider neutrality in interpretation to be a myth and have called on interpreters to play a more visible role in which they “consistently intervene proactively, to ensure that communication continues smoothly across the cultural divide” (Katan, 2014, p. 20). Thus, it is felt that interpreters should act as cultural mediators. Yet, this dimension of their role does not seem to be sufficiently acknowledged in a globalized world where they are increasingly solicited, but not sufficiently trained, compensated, or fully recognized as cultural mediators (Bassnett, 2012, p. 104; Katan, 2014, p. 20).

Cultural mediation is inherently conflictual. It is a third-party position between two parties who are estranged by some misunderstanding or conflict. The aim is thus to develop strategies to help the two parties understand each other (Busch, 2022; Cohen-Emerique & Fayman, 2005; Mayer, 2020). Work on this subject relates mostly to immigration and rarely to a context of colonial relations. Further on, we will discuss how the concept of cultural mediation can help explain the role of Inuit court interpreters.

3. Methodology

Participatory research is a scientific paradigm (Heron & Reason, 1997) based on a conception of knowledge as being intrinsically linked to the person and to the relations of knowledge construction and transmission. Kral (2014) describes it as the result of a relationship that is built over time. In our research, we therefore attach great importance to developing and maintaining respectful and reciprocal relations with the people we work with. Our aim is also to attempt to overcome power relationships in research, to open up a space for co-construction, and support the empowerment of our collaborators (Bourassa et al., 2007; Desgagné, 2007; Gaudet, 2014, p. 78; Kovach, 2021).

We have combined these principles of participatory research with social science methods, specifically those of anthropology: a critical, iterative approach; collection of qualitative data; and reliance mainly on discussion workshops and semi-structured interviews. As part of the research project “Saimatsianiq: Documenting, mobilizing, and promoting Inuit legal practices to preserve social harmony in Nunavik,” we held a two-day workshop in Quebec City, on February 21 and 22, 2022. It brought together five participants who were working as interpreters for the Itinerant Court of Nunavik. There were three objectives: 1) provide court interpreters with an opportunity to meet and talk about daily life at work; 2) document their work, realities, challenges, and concerns; and 3) reflect together on the justice system in Nunavik. To provide a supportive environment for sharing sensitive experiences and prospects, the event was co-facilitated by CRIS researchers and Suzy Watt Kauki, an Inuk research assistant. Participants were free to use the language of their choice (English, Inuktitut, or French). None of the five participants requested confidentiality. Their names were Lizzie Aloupa, Annie Baron, Aipili Qumaaluk, Annie Okpik, and Jeannie Sala. The workshop provided us with most of our data, to which we added seven individual interviews with six participants:

  1. Jean-Claude Latraverse, Crown Attorney, January 28, 2022

  2. Anonymous 1, Crown Attorney, June 12, 2022

  3. Lizzie Aloupa, Court Interpreter, June 27, 2022

  4. Anonymous 2, Crown Attorney, December 21, 2022

  5. Annie Baron, Court Interpreter, January 19, 2023 and May 23, 2023

  6. Annie Okpik, Court Interpreter, February 9, 2024

4. Results

4.1. “I’m the Heartbeat of the Process”: Helping the Accused to Understand

The interpreters described their role as one of ensuring that, during court hearings, court officers (judges, lawyers, clerks, etc.) understand and are understood by Inuit who are appearing. They felt a strong sense of responsibility, knowing that if they were not in the courtroom, or if they did their job poorly, the consequences could have negative ramifications for the Inuit accused, not to mention for procedural fairness. As Lizzie Aloupa put it: “I’m the heartbeat of the process. Because if I am not interpreting right, or if I am not interpreting, they don’t understand each other.”

Not only do court interpreters translate the words of the judge and lawyers, but they often take their time to explain the laws and court procedures to the accused in Inuktitut, “because the system has never been explained to the Inuit” (Lizzie Aloupa). Due to the court’s procedural rules, interpreters cannot freely take the initiative to provide the accused with explanations and additional key information. They can, however, ask the judge for permission to provide the accused with additional information, either in court or during a court break. Lizzie Aloupa gave the example of a man who, by the answers he was giving in court, did not seem to understand what was going on:

This man has been charged with a serious crime but every time he comes to court, it was like his thinking was in another path. Like, what they told him in court, he was answering in a way that was way out of what they were trying to tell him.

Lizzie Aloupa

Lizzie asked the judge if she could “teach the client the charge against him and the court process.” The judge agreed but requested the presence of a lawyer with her in the courtroom. Together, Lizzie and the lawyer gave him “an ‘under [the] law’ teaching to try to help him understand” the laws he had broken and the options available to him at that time. Without Lizzie’s intervention, the man would have been a passive witness to his fate. According to Jean-Claude Latraverse, a lawyer who has been working in Nunavik for more than twenty years, Nunavik judges recognize the role of interpreters and give them space to intervene in this way: “Most judges are very attentive to translators and interpreters. In fact, the vast majority of judges are very respectful of interpreters, knowing that their role is crucial and central.” (free translation)[8]

4.2. The Linguistic Challenges of Interpreting in Court

The workshop participants mentioned the many challenges of their work, such as schedule overload, the lack of time for preparation before court and debriefing after court, and the emotional burden of heavy court cases. They also pointed to the absence of adequate training for court interpreters. In fact, when hired, court interpreters receive neither interpreter training nor criminal justice training. Training of new hires rests on the shoulders of experienced interpreters, who have to provide three weeks of on-site training. This additional responsibility comes with a burden of stress for experienced interpreters, who have to keep doing their job properly while training a new recruit. They must also remain vigilant and demonstrate the proper way of doing things when working with a trained, but inexperienced, interpreter. For new recruits, the process is equally daunting and unwelcoming, as Annie Baron pointed out:

How it works, it’s not very friendly for [a] new interpreter, I find. (. … ) It’s not enough, three weeks. Sometimes, you’ve only got one case to translate in a [whole] day, even zero. How do you teach [the person] court terminology if you don’t work every day? It’s a joke. (. … ) They need more training. Not just in the courtroom.” (free translation)[9]

During the research workshops, court interpreters discussed many legal terms that were still difficult for them to interpret or that could not be translated by a single word. They also mentioned that they had no appropriate terminology reference book they could consult for their work. A glossery was produced in 2009 (Ministère de la Justice du Québec & Avataq Cultural Institute, 2009), but it is out of date and not used by all interpreters, one explanation is that it is not distributed to everyone. We will now discuss a few examples of challenging legal concepts.

The term “guilty” is central to the court process because the accused must plead either guilty or not guilty. Yet, to make an informed decision, the accused should first understand the charges against him/her. This is unfortunately not always the case. While the defence lawyer should take the necessary time before the court appearance to meet with the accused and explain the charges and court procedures —given the Itinerant Court’s tight schedule and the procedural/legal barrier of the system— it is not done adequately. Moreover, the defence lawyer is not provided with an interpreter to provide systematic assistance. The task therefore falls on other Inuit justice workers (e.g., community reintegration officers and para-judicial workers) who are forced to act as de facto interpreters in addition to their official workload (Latraverse, 2022, p. 31). Several workshop participants described the situation as deplorable.

Second, the accused should understand the legal implications of pleading one way or the other. The question “Are you guilty?” can be translated by at least two Inuktitut words: sulinirarqait (“Is it true?”) or pasijaksaq (“Are you liable to be thought guilty?”). As mentioned by Jeannie Sala, if an Inuk is asked in Inuktitut to say whether he is guilty or not guilty, he will answer the question honestly as to whether he actually did or did not do what he is accused of. But the question is actually narrower in meaning. It implies legal responsibility for what happened, as demonstrated by the evidence, and includes moral blameworthiness. In court, the word “guilty” is fraught with consequences because it means that you will be sentenced for your alleged actions. Consequently, Jeannie Sala would explain to the accused that to plead not guilty means: “You are accusing me of a crime, prove it.” It does not mean: “I did not do it.” To her, the accused must understand the difference.

As another example, the term “parole” has no equivalent in Inuktitut. It means: “permission for a prisoner to be released before their period in prison is finished, with the agreement that they will behave well.”[10] The idea of being released before the end of one’s term needs to be explained in at least a complete sentence. Annie Baron would say: tigujaumaninga isulilaurtinagu anititaq, meaning “the one in jail will be out before it is finished.”

The term “Crown attorney” is translated by turqataijik, meaning “the one who tries to put the person inside.” This translation has nothing to do with the concept of Crown or attorney. The English word “attorney” comes from the Old French attorné and means “one appointed by another to act in his place.” [11] There is no equivalent for the idea of “Crown,” which is defined as “the royal governing power of a country that has a king or queen.”[12] Some interpreters use the term ataniup piqujalirijingit, meaning “those people to whom we adhere (sovereign) and who take care of things that need to be done (laws).” Finally, luaija is the most common Inuit word for lawyer in Nunavik. It is in fact the Inuit pronunciation of the English word.

According to the workshop participants, court judges and court officers are not sufficiently aware of the differences between Inuktitut and English, as well as the lack of word-to-word equivalence. Some might expect a form of literal or equivalent translation, which is made impossible by the gap between the two languages and cultures. The same expectation may exist more generally in a court setting, where some might feel that a fair trial requires access by everyone to the same information. Interpreters have seen this problem and are torn between, on the one hand, the requirements of their profession and its legal framework and, on the other, what they would consider to be more beneficial to the Inuit accused, witness, or victim, i.e., longer and additional explanations.

4.3. Injustice Through Misunderstanding

According to the workshop participants, judicial misinterpretation may result from a misunderstanding between the Inuit appearing and the lawyer or judge, or between the court interpreter and one of these people.[13] The legal profession is especially fond of negative questions or double negative questions that are prone to misinterpretation.[14] Many examples could be given. “Wouldn’t it be fair to say that (…)?” “Isn’t it true that (…) did not (…)?” “Wouldn’t you agree with me (...)?” Wouldn’t you agree with me if I said that (…) did not (…)?” This rhetorical device is commonly used in southern courtrooms by speakers of English and French. In Nunavik, it may be misunderstood or, if understood correctly, answered in a different way, since Inuktitut, as other languages such as Japanese, uses a different strategy for answering negative questions (Holmberg, 2001). For example, when asked “Are you not hungry?” some Inuit would answer “Yes” or “Yes, I am not hungry” while non-Inuit would answer, “No, I am not.” Here is another example. If you ask “Do you mind if I close the door?” an Inuk would probably answer “Yes” or “Yes, you can close the door” while a non-Inuk would say “No, I don’t mind.” The differences in the way questions are understood and answered have a huge impact on any Inuk testifying before a court and on the proceedings themselves. Even if Inuit are aware of the language differences, they may easily get confused while still wanting to tell the truth. Workshop participants explained how they tried their best to protect the accused, the victim, and the witnesses from risks of misunderstanding. Another language issue is the tendency of court officials to ask direct questions. Such questioning seemed disrespectful to an Inuit para-judicial worker at one of our research workshops:

We must be careful about how we ask questions. We have to ask open questions to make them comfortable. I have clients who are not able to speak up because they have been spoken to in a manner that is not open.

Rebecca Cookie

There was also concern about how elderly Inuit are treated by the court; in particular, the hearing problems of seniors being not sufficiently considered during the proceedings, or even in the phrasing of the sentences. Elders are treated with respect in Inuit culture, and the workshop participants seemed shocked by the practice of treating them the same as everyone else or even infantilizing them. Lizzie Aloupa expressed a widely shared concern that court staff do not stop to consider Inuit cultural traits, be it respect for elders or for their way of life and way of thinking. A good example is provided by conditional sentence orders (CSOs), where a person is detained at home rather than in a facility far from the community. The concept can be hard for Inuit to understand, particularly the idea of having to comply at home with an authority that is absent and yet omnipresent. Inuit can have trouble understanding that they may be detained in their own home, and not be free to go outside and use their car. Lizzie Aloupa reported the case of an elder who received a CSO and whose hearing problems could result in her missing calls from the verification officer and being charged for breach of conditions.

When they’re older, they are treated the same as still younger clients because [the court officials] are just following their procedure. Each case must take as little time as possible, so this older person had a big conditional sentence given and the person [had to have it explained to them that]: “You will not have the freedom. You have this many hours to be able to go to your grocery [store]. You have one hour to go to church. (. … ) You have to be home by 10 [pm], for example. You’re not allowed to be out anytime at all. You are in jail in your home. You have to answer the phone all the time no matter what time [it is]. Someone will check if you are home.” The poor client explained her hearing difficulty and (…) that she might not hear the phone ringing, which could [lead to] another charge.

Lizzie Aloupa

A CSO may mean that the sentenced person will be unable to fish, hunt, or pick berries—unless the lawyer has requested an exemption. Yet such activities are crucial to Inuit health and to their social, cultural, and economic life. One interpreter expressed her concerns about people who are usually very quiet and who could lose their freedom after just one incident, a loss that is hard for them to understand:

The judge or the lawyer do not think about the life a person is now going to have to live. The big difference it’s gonna be. They cannot practise their traditional [activities]. (. … ) These people are not usually drunk and when they have that one-time incident, they cannot continue their normal life anymore. (. … ) It makes a big change that they don’t understand and that they didn’t expect.

Lizzie Aloupa

Lizzie Aloupa once had to explain a sentence to an elderly woman and was particularly struck by the woman’s reply: “I’m being treated like a little child.” Lizzie Aloupa said that the sentenced woman “felt like she was brought back to be like a little child. A helpless little child who [now had] to depend on other people to do things for her that she was always doing on her own.”

We have presented a few examples here of how, in court, the difference in language and culture causes misunderstanding and can lead to certain forms of injustice. Interpreters try their best to lessen the injustice. To that end, they do require an appropriate amount of time to explain the legal process to an Inuk not represented by a lawyer, to clear up misunderstandings between Inuit and non-Inuit, and to answer any questions that the accused may have.

5. Discussion

5.1. Court Mediators in Defence of the Accused

Court interpretation involves several important issues in Nunavik, as is the case in other colonial contexts in Canada and around the world (Cote, 2014; Gamal, 2009; Government of Canada, 2023; Morris, 1995; Stern, 2004). Good interpretation requires a sound knowledge of both language and law. Knowing that Nunavimmiut receive little formal education about their first language, interpreters in all sectors would actually benefit from linguistic training (e.g., about dialect differences, subtleties of meaning, lexicography, etc.).[15] Also, interpreting in the courthouse is a particularly important challenge because of the ethical and legal dimensions involved, in addition to those of language. Indeed, “court interpreters are required to be faithful, accurate and impartial” (CCTIC 2021; Mahieu & Henitiuk, 2019, p. 4).

Since the arrival of “White justice” in Nunavik in the early 20th century (Jaccoud, 1995a), neologisms, or newly coined words, have been created to translate new concepts, and interpreters have reached, often informally, some consensus on how to translate court terms. Yet there is still no formal consensus regarding many terms and no up-to-date common reference document for both Nunavik dialects (while it might be the case for other neighbouring dialects like in Nunavut or Nunatsiavut). For instance, Jean-Claude Latraverse told us that some interpreters, while familiar with general legal concepts, do not always grasp specific terms and the nuances between them, and may have to make up the translation on the spot.[16] They are thus limited in their ability to provide a professional, uniform service while taking into account regional linguistic differences.

Most legal terms are hard to translate into Inuktitut simply because there are no corresponding semantic referents, e.g., the words Crown, attorney, and parole. Because the concepts, specifically the legal thinking behind them, are somewhat foreign to Inuit culture, interpreters opt for a “functional translation strategy,” rather than a “strict word-for-word correspondence,” to achieve an “equivalent effect” in communication (Bassnett, 2012, p. 105; Katan, 2014, p. 18). This strategy is unavoidable for anyone faced with the complexity of the law and the justice system and the general lack of knowledge among Inuit about these colonial institutions. Interpreters thereby facilitate and balance intercultural communication, understanding, and action between two parties who are estranged by some misunderstanding or conflict (Katan, 2014; Taft, 1981, p. 53). In addition to providing functional translation, they develop other strategies to reduce misunderstanding, e.g., by requesting a break, providing additional information, and by informing the defendant about the existence of interpretation services before the hearing. They thus act as cultural mediators (Bassnett, 2012; Taft, 1981, p. 53). Although they are keen to comply with the professional requirements of the court, they are not totally neutral in their duty; they are proactive in defending the interests of fellow Inuit who are dealing with a system that is beyond their understanding (Katan, 2014, p. 20).

Court interpreters participate both in the court system and in Inuit society and ontology, while navigating between the two. Yet they are not bicultural actors (Taft, 1981, p. 53). They clearly do not identify with the Canadian legal culture and often stress how much it differs from their values and their way of thinking.

5.2. What Would be a Better Form of Justice for Inuit?

The Nunavik Itinerant Court is a place where two legal orders encounter each other, one belonging to the Canadian state and the other to the Nunavimmiut. This encounter gives rise to ontological conflicts between a dominant legal order and a dominated one. To understand the depth of the misunderstandings and frictions, we need to look at the ontologies behind the legal practices and ways of thinking. We need to show the central place that Indigenous people give to the quality of their relations with each other, with their environment, and with the visible and invisible world around them, in accordance with their relational ontology (Kovach, 2021; Wilson, 2008), by examining the concept of justice (Hervé & Laneuville, 2022).

What does the concept of justice mean exactly to Inuit? It is commonly translated in Nunavik by the neologism iqqatuiniq. The Inuit word does not refer to justice as a moral concept but rather to the court system itself: iqqatuiniq means “judging someone” or more precisely “making someone remember his/her faults” (Hervé & Laneuville, 2022, p. 76; Koperqualuk 2015, p. 600). This word gives us an idea of how Inuit perceive the justice system and how that system may contrast with some of their values and conceptions of life. They describe it as a process meant to judge and punish people, a process that involves remembering because the court always intervenes long after the actions were committed. When asked how she would translate “justice,” Annie Baron saw its meaning as contextual:

It depends on the person. You want justice for the perpetrator not to take forever and ever to get sentenced. Justice is not just one way to look at it. (. … ) Justice for victims, it’s a joke. They are not protected. [Justice for victims is] to help [her perpetrator], instead of trying to put [him/her] into prison.

Annie Baron

Here again, Annie raises the issue of time: the Inuit consider it unfair that the system takes so long to bring offenders to trial (Laneuville, 2015, pp. 96–97). In the meantime, offenders are not helped, and victims are not protected. To the workshop participants, the importance of helping the offenders on the one hand, and protecting the victims on the other, emerged as central to a form of justice more in line with Inuit values. To them, Inuit justice is about “how to treat others well.” It means taking good care of one another and showing empathy: ippigusutsianiq (“to be sensitive to others”). This view is based on such values and principles as respect, equality, mutual support, and autonomy.[17] Everyone is entitled to respect and support, and everyone is free to make their own choices.

For greater justice, participants wished to see more respect and support for those who need help and healing. In other words, they want more humanity. Judges and lawyers should show respect by first learning to pronounce the Inuit names of defendants and witnesses properly. Moreover, people involved in the justice process should be caring and generous, and be concerned about Inuit and their well-being. Non-Inuit should consequently take the time to learn about Inuit history and culture. Finally, a respectful justice system should provide the accused with time, explanations, and options, as pointed out by Lizzie Aloupa:

To make the court process more appropriate for the Inuit, it would be to have each client have their charges and the court process explained to them, to give them a chance to ask questions and to really understand how the judicial system process is, how different it is from everyday life.

Lizzie Aloupa

The workshop participants did not reject the criminal justice system. Nor did they reject the judges or lawyers. They simply wished to see better understanding and a better alliance between Inuit and non-Inuit, with the common goal of taking care of each other. In particular, a better system would give greater prominence to Inuit legal values and practices, in keeping with the wishes made back in 1993 by Taamusi Qumaq, a writer and politician from Nunavik, who was a member of the Inuit Justice Task Force (1993, p. 46):

There is no doubt that we will have to adopt and integrate these, the ways of our ancestors, if we are to improve on the backlog and delay which is the main characteristic of today’s courts. It would be much better to deal with cases without undue delay as our ancestors did when they had to pass judgment on someone. This was the practice before Qallunaat came to our homeland, and we should attach it as a value to a better justice system. It would be ideal if we could separate the components of the justice systems of the Inuit and Qallunaat, then pick the best aspects of both and fuse them to create a better, improved system.

Conclusion

Today, Nunavimmiut still widely speak their own language, Inuktitut, while their ability to understand and use the two colonial languages, English and French, varies considerably. In addition, most poorly understand Canadian law, Quebec law, and how the criminal justice system works (Laneuville, 2015, pp. 95–99; 2017, p. 34; Latraverse, 2022). After over a century since the arrival of Canadian law in Nunavik (Jaccoud, 1995a), Nunavimmiut are more often than not passive subjects of the law rather than its beneficiaries. According to Lizzie Aloupa, the majority still perceive criminal justice as a “White man’s business” and prefer to stay away from it as much as possible. Many Inuit have nonetheless chosen to work in justice-related services because they believe that criminal justice can and should promote the rights and freedoms of Nunavimmiut. This point was made by Lizzie:

Some Inuit think that the justice system is for the Qallunaat[18] or that the system was made by the Qallunaat. Some people say: “I don’t want to do it the Qallunaat way!” They don’t understand or do not realize that the justice system is for every one of us. They think it is a Qallunaaq thing, so they don’t want to have anything to do with it.

Lizzie Aloupa

Language and intercultural issues in the courtroom deserve a great deal of attention, as they open the door to recognition of ontological conflicts and injustices. To resolve such conflicts and injustices, we need cultural mediation, as is being provided by the Inuit interpreters at the Nunavik Itinerant Court in their crucial and difficult work. The aim is not just to bridge two cultures or two languages but also to make ontological conflicts visible, and thereby to make true justice possible, which would benefit both the Quebec and Canadian systems. Moreover, they are watchdogs for the preservation and use of Inuktitut in today’s justice system in Nunavik.

Although interpreters are increasingly solicited throughout the world, they are not sufficiently trained, compensated, or fully recognized for their role (Bassnett, 2012; Cote, 2014; Gamal, 2009; Katan, 2014). Inuit court interpreters should receive greater recognition and be valued more highly, both within the court system and within their communities. It is also urgent to provide them with adequate training, improved working conditions, and proper support. A new generation of interpreters is urgently needed. They must be recruited and appropriately trained to ensure fair proceedings by providing each and every Inuk with the interpretation services they may need or want within the criminal justice system. Experienced interpreters want to pass on their knowledge, but they need support, time, and resources to do so. Finally, interpreters must also be hired for other services, such as assistance to Crown prosecutors, defence lawyers, and probation officers to make sure that all Inuit have the right to understand and be understood in their own language (Barreau du Québec, 2014; Latraverse, 2022).