Securitization and counter-securitization discourse theories

Securitization discourse theory offers a critical approach to security studies by explaining how political actors employ emergency discourse(s) to convince an audience of the necessity for extraordinary political action (Jamal, Reference Jamal2020: 933). Securitization has evolved from a study of a singular speech act (Wæver, Reference Ole and Lipshutz1995) into an interdependent process, focusing on context, the audience’s reaction and the responses of any group(s) that is constructed as dangerous to the referent object receiving protection (Balzacq, Reference Balzacq2005). A securitizing act’s legitimacy relies on the power position of the securitizing actor, the nature of the target audience and the “main opponents or alternative voices within the relevant social field—either individual or corporate, ad hoc or institutionalized” (Balzacq, Reference Balzacq2005: 179). Opposition is integral to securitization and captures the interdependent formation of the meaning of security. An appropriate social context, identity of the securitizing actor and a receptive audience are crucial aspects of the securitizing process, but a fundamental hurdle for the securitizing act to achieve mainstream legitimacy is how securitized subjects may resist this speech. Securitization requires a study of multiple actors: how securitizing actors attempt to move the politics of the ordinary to the extraordinary and how counter-securitizing actors respond by contesting oppressive discourses.

The growing body of counter-securitization scholarship explores how groups constructed as dangerous employ discourse to resist and dismantle this imposed image (Vuori, Reference Vuori and Balzacq2015: 30). A competition of (counter-)securitizing moves among the original securitizing and counter-securitizing actors takes place over the identities of human and more-than-human subjects (land, infrastructure and so forth) and appropriate subjects to afford security (Jamal, Reference Jamal2020: 933; Marx, Reference Marx and Balzacq2015: 18; Stritzel and Chang, Reference Stritzel and Chang2015: 549). As with securitization, counter-securitization is context dependent, and the act alone of counter-securitizing is inherently no more or less a tool of resistance by securitized actors as it is by aggressors (Marx, Reference Marx and Balzacq2015: 17). In settler-colonial societies, however, counter-securitization has become a means to resist the othering of Indigenous peoples. Indigenous protesters dialectically create their own identities by exposing and questioning the assumptions of settler-colonial discourse; “narrating Indigeneity by securitized native groups becomes equivalent with counter-securitization” (Jamal, Reference Jamal2020: 934). Counter-securitization becomes a far more complex study of dialectical and mutual identity creation than the original Copenhagen School’s speech-act provides (Han, Reference Han2021: 157); dialectical (counter)securitization entails that “authority, legitimacy, and consent are in constant need of being established and re-established” (Stritzel and Chang, Reference Stritzel and Chang2015: 554). Understanding a securitizing or counter-securitizing actor’s discourse should be understood as related to the discourse(s) of competing security actors, as well as historical and contemporary cultural and political contexts.

Securitization and Canadian settler-colonial governance

Many scholars have critically examined security discourse in the Canadian context. Canadian settler-colonial rhetoric attempts to disguise the appropriation of land and continued violence directed toward Indigenous peoples in neoliberal euphemisms of “progress,” “(white) normalcy,” “reconciliation” and “modernity” (for example, Dorrell, Reference Dorrell2009; Pasternak and Dafnos, Reference Pasternak and Dafnos2018; Preston, Reference Preston2013) while portraying Indigenous land defenders as threats to Canada’s economy and sovereignty. Recognition politics, whereby the settler-colonial state claims authority to determine how Indigenous peoples are to be categorized within the settler state, reproduces colonial ontologies that aim to erase Indigenous land stewardship practices. This discourse claims the displacement of Indigenous peoples as a necessary and legitimate act of securing state sovereignty (Coulthard, Reference Coulthard2014; Proulx, Reference Proulx2014). A “language of engagement” by the Canadian state bears a progressive façade yet masks asymmetrical power relations and ongoing physical and systemic violence (Mittal, Reference Mittal2021: 126). Scholars (Dorrell, Reference Dorrell2009) have criticized reconciliation policies as the Canadian state’s attempts to relegitimize its sovereignty on stolen lands and describe injustices toward Indigenous peoples as having happened in the past. State-centred narratives of reconciliation ignore and impart further harm upon Indigenous peoples, lands and ontologies by disguising land displacement and violence as “normal politics” that Indigenous peoples must reconcile themselves to (Dorrell, Reference Dorrell2009). In spite of the state’s reconciliation narratives, Indigenous peoples continue to experience state- and settler-driven violence and discursive othering today. This includes but is not limited to direct violence toward land defenders and Indigenous peoples living in proximity to critical infrastructure sites, and this violence has especially gendered impacts (Knott, Reference Knott, Anderson, Campbell and Belcourt2018). As Fontaine (Reference Fontaine2022: Interview) expresses:

Settler governments continue to engage in security discourses that aim to delegitimize Indigenous peoples’ experiences of physical, cultural and environmental violence for the purpose of securing the economic and governing assets of the state.

“Critical infrastructure” discourse in settler-colonial societies is an example of securitization that often displaces Indigenous peoples’ inherent rights to land, whereby securitizing actors assert the protection of infrastructure and the surrounding land as necessary for a functioning economy. The discourse redefines infrastructure’s importance by describing it as “critical.” Rejecting, protesting or otherwise challenging critical infrastructure becomes synonymous with an infringement on the material and ontological survival of the state (Monaghan and Walby, Reference Monaghan and Walby2017: 53; Spice, Reference Spice2018: 42). Canadian officials cite a broad range of perceived threats as justification for protecting critical infrastructure (Rudner, Reference Rudner2009), and this often extends to explicit and implicit depictions of Indigenous land defenders as security threats. Canadian governments have responded to Indigenous protests of critical infrastructure projects through public and private surveillance (Monaghan and Walby, 2017: 52), police intervention (Crosby, Reference Crosby2021: 2) and security legislation (Proulx, Reference Proulx2014) that seek to normalize the practice of land and resource extraction. Critical infrastructure discourse in Canada often aims to delegitimize Indigenous protests of Canadian sovereignty claims and exploitative capitalism (Crosby, Reference Crosby2021: 3) and frames Indigenous actions as extremist and destructive (Spice, Reference Spice2018: 43). Fontaine (Reference Fontaine2022: Interview) explains the destructiveness of settler colonial critical infrastructure discourse in relation to its impacts on Indigenous lives:

Designating infrastructure as “critical” in a settler-colonial context perpetuates dichotomies of “civilized/uncivilized” and “culture/nature” that codify modern settler society as “progressive” and Indigenous sovereignty and perspectives of human and more-than-human relationships as threatening progress (Pasternak and Dafnos, Reference Pasternak and Dafnos2018: 741; Spice, Reference Spice2018: 42). Canadian governments that prioritize economic security may use “critical infrastructure” discourse to delegitimize the duty to consult with Indigenous peoples as a source of uncertainty for the unchallenged circulation of goods (Pasternak and Dafnos, Reference Pasternak and Dafnos2018: 749). The construction of critical infrastructure constitutes “a form of settler colonial invasion” (Spice, Reference Spice2018: 42) that Indigenous protesters seek to expose.

Canadian governments’ understanding of Indigenous protest as threatening critical infrastructure illustrates the state’s efforts and limitations in securing itself. Fontaine (Reference Fontaine2022: Interview) asserted that governments may attempt to determine what constitutes legitimate and illegitimate protest: “There’s still a movement toward having protest that is acceptable to the government in power.” As Crosby explains, Indigenous protest that challenges the “post-colonial fantasies about Canada’s formation and deeply colonial relations [are interpreted by an insecure settler-Canada]… as threatening the fragile foundation on which settler society attempts to reproduce and secure itself” (Reference Van Rythoven2021: 3). Analyzing securitization in Canada as a network of securitizing and counter-securitizing moves rather than an uncontested speech act illustrates that notions of security are never settled and always contestable (Topgyal, Reference Topgyal2016). Counter-securitization discourse highlights the power of Indigenous resistance to set new terms for whom or what must be protected, which international relations theory has traditionally undervalued (Van Rythoven, Reference Van Rythoven2021: 266). The dialectical nature of security discourse suggests there are opportunities for resistance movements to expose the Canadian state’s claims of unchallengeable sovereignty on Indigenous lands as illegitimate.

Indigenous articulations of security and resistance through direct action

A wide range of scholarship has produced important insights on non-state Indigenous resistance and security, where expressions of discontent and autonomy often take the form of protesting economic systems. Scholars have written about how Indigenous communities’ approaches to security often feature a complex relationship among the referent objects of security that range from cultural to economic and social wellbeing (Hossain, Reference Hossain2016: 422). It is important to stress that Indigenous peoples’ approaches to the multitude of security referents is not uniform.Footnote ⁹ However, much literature on Indigenous security shares that Indigenous peoples’ protection of lands and ability to manage resources independently or in substantive collaboration with settler and Indigenous governments is critical to achieving security (for example, Spice, Reference Spice2018; Coté, Reference Coté2022; Miltenburg et al., Reference Miltenburg, Tait Neufeld and Anderson2022). Land occupations, marches and demonstrations outside of legislatures and on resource extraction sites constitute some of the ways in which direct action seeks to resist imposed critical infrastructure projects (Morden, Reference Morden2015: 257; Spice, Reference Spice2018: 48; Stanley, Reference Stanley2019: 1147). Direct action can also highlight where Indigenous peoples feel Canadian governments’ consultations on economic projects have been superficial or perfunctory performances of reconciliation and nation-to-nation dialogue (Medby, Reference Medby2019: 1282; Youdelis, Reference Youdelis2016: 1385). Land-based protest, premised on a respect for the territories that sustain human and more-than-human entities, has popularized positive descriptors such as “land defender” (Fontaine, Reference Fontaine2022: Interview; Spice, Reference Spice2018: 48) that reframe protests as protecting lives and environments. Direct action can be used by groups who lack regular access to representative institutions and who behave in ways that fundamentally challenge the ontological assumptions of state authorities (Morden, Reference Morden2015: 257). This article does not seek to dichotomize direct and institutionalized resistance or Indigenous peoples who seek differing notions of security. Woons identifies a concern some scholars share, that Indigenous resistance and state action are incompatible because the latter legitimizes “fundamentally colonial institutions and their past and present assimilationist polices” (Reference Woons2013: 18). We seek to expand on resistance by presenting elected Indigenous activists who choose institutions as one of many methods to express their political will. Direct action remains a crucial channel for Indigenous resistance, and Indigenous activists working in institutions regularly express themselves politically outside of state institutions. As Fontaine (Reference Fontaine2022: Interview) says, “I’m a long-time activist. I understand the importance, and critical need, and transformative effect of protest.”

Indigenous elected representatives in the Manitoba Legislature

Indigenous members’ experiences in legislative assemblies are relatively underexplored in the legislature literature, especially related to Manitoba. Fontaine (Reference Fontaine2022: Interview) reflects on her experience as a legislator:

Scholars describe how legislators either embrace or choose against representing and promoting communities that they share identities with, with legislatures serving as sites of resistance to government actions through legislative scrutiny, question period, debate and committees (Docherty, Reference Docherty2005: 28; Rayment and VandenBeukel, Reference Rayment and Vanden Beukel2020: 379). Representation without structural change, however, falls short of challenging the settler-colonial status quo of legislatures, as Maddison (Reference Maddison2010) argues. Indigenous members of legislatures and their approaches to governance are as diverse as Indigenous peoples themselves and should not be misconstrued as monolithic with the same legislative goals. Furthermore, the aims of legislative and direct activism should not be perceived as homogenous (Peach, Reference Peach2011: 24). However, Fontaine (Reference Fontaine2022: Interview) identifies the presence and challenges of opposing settler colonial discourse in the Legislature: “I try to get up as much as I can to kind of dismantle that [discourse], which is not easy. It’s not an easy space” and “We still have a really long way to go.” Indigenous resistance in the Manitoba Legislature exhibits a pattern of challenging critical infrastructure legislation and discourse, with Indigenous opposition members as influential actors of counter-securitization.

The incompatibility of Indigenous resistance and counter-securitization

Scholars have identified the incompatibility between Indigenous resistance and counter-securitization through state channels because of the state’s role in recognizing the legitimacy of Indigenous political expression. Hossain, Reference Hossain2016: 421) writes that the power asymmetry between state governments and Indigenous communities means that the former determines how to provide space and legitimacy for the recognition of the latter’s rights and security priorities. In Canada, Greaves (Reference Greaves2018: 108) maintains that (counter-)securitization by Indigenous activists has been largely unsuccessful, evidenced by the lack of government action that would alleviate “environmental security claims that identify damage inflicted to Indigenous lands and lives by natural resource extraction [or] Indigenous peoples’ lack of authority over their traditional territories.” Indigenous (counter-)securitizing moves have been met with rejection by governments that choose not to halt the economic systems that damage Indigenous lives and territories. Indigenous counter-security discourse is thus challenged by the fact that the audiences Indigenous activists try to convince are often the sources of insecurity (governments, corporate actors and so forth) who routinely meet their concerns with hostility. Changing settler institutions’ governing practices from within also bears challenges because of the frequently hostile working culture in legislaturesFootnote ¹⁰ (Fontaine, Reference Fontaine2022: Interview; Morden, Reference Morden2018) and may not be the goal of some decolonial efforts in the first place (Tuck and Yang, Reference Tuck and Wayne Yang2012).

The Manitoba case may offer an exception to present securitization theory by representing how counter-securitization discourse may be successful at halting oppressive legislation, but not because the government audience is fully convinced of the premises of these claims. Instead, Indigenous counter-securitization’s effectiveness may grow because of what Van Rythoven (Reference Van Rythoven2021) describes as many settlers’ “feeling of unease” to define Indigenous protests as security threats. Settler government officials may feel compelled to reevaluate the public legitimacy of their securitization because of recent turns to reconciliation and their efforts to distance themselves from appearing complicit in Canada’s history of settler violence (Van Rythoven, Reference Van Rythoven2021: 256). As overt securitization claims of Indigenous protests become less publicly defensible, Indigenous counter-securitization may become more publicly acceptable and more effective at leveraging contradictions between governments’ securitization discourses and its reconciliatory narratives of healing. However, the securitization of Indigenous protest may not disappear and may still thrive in private or less obvious contexts, such as interdepartmental memos and closed-door conversations, or by individuals who actively seek controversy (Van Rythoven, Reference Van Rythoven2021: 253). Fontaine’s accounts of the legislative chamber illustrate that the devaluing of Indigenous experiences in public spaces is ongoing.

Securitization and efforts to achieve decolonization through settler institutions have been questioned as prescriptive means to dismantle settler colonialism. Bertrand (Reference Bertrand2018: 287) notes that security scholars remove communities from being able to conduct their own securitization: “Putting words into the subaltern mouth is problematic as it buries those words under layers of representation and thus silences them further.” Scholars impose their perspectives by determining which securitizing acts by Indigenous communities are and are not successful. Scholars have also identified the incommensurability of settler institutions and decolonization, as striving to improve rather than unsettle settler institutions may simply reify them and prevent settlers from relinquishing “land or power or privilege” (Tuck and Yang, Reference Tuck and Wayne Yang2012: 10). We respond to these arguments by suggesting that it is still necessary to discuss notions of security in academic literature because failing to do so prevents researchers from imagining and acknowledging the circumstances in which Indigenous counter-securitization as resistance and through legislative channels finds success. Our determination of what is successful follows the analytical cues of the individuals directly involved in the security discourses. While we cannot completely diminish our settler perspectives in this article, we aim to mitigate “speaking for” Indigenous Peoples by following the analytical leads of Fontaine, Bushie and Indigenous scholars and shifting the analytical centre to them. This is not to say that counter-securitization is without its assumptions of what security should look like, which we consider following the findings section on legislation and security discourses.

Contextualizing and comparing the bills

Discussion of Bills 57, 62 and 63 requires their contextualization within the political background they were introduced. Fontaine (Reference Fontaine2022) explains in her interview comments that the shooting of Colten Boushie in Saskatchewan and the Wet’suwet’en protests across Canada comprised two major incidents that preceded the introduction of Bills 57, 62 and 63: “[At that time] there were land defenders that were defending lands across Canada and all over… and a little before, you have the Stanley trial with Colten Boushie.” In 2018, Gerald Stanley went on trial for the 2016 murder of Colten Boushie, a 22-year-old nêhiyaw man who had accidentally entered Stanley’s farm with four friends. Macdonald (Reference MacDonald2021) explains that the inequities throughout Stanley’s trial, including but not limited to a jury that had not been screened for anti-Indigenous bias as well as Stanley’s acquittal, makes the trial an example of how Canada’s justice system ignores and enacts direct and systemic violence upon Indigenous experiences and lives. Two years after the trial, Wet’suwet’en hereditary chiefs protested a proposed pipeline, Coastal GasLink, through their territories. Wet’suwet’en claims over their ancestral lands, as recognized by Canadian governments, have been unresolved for decades and remain so today. Protests across Canada, including in Manitoba, supported many Wet’suwet’en land defenders’ rejection of the pipeline. Fontaine (Reference Fontaine2022: Interview) explains that the protests were “about defending lands, protecting the environment, all of those things, which people have done since time immemorial.” The introduction and debate of the bills occurred within this political context.

A comparative reading of the three bills illustrates how they codified land as a matter of economic and provincial security. Bill 57 explained that “infrastructure is critical infrastructure if the use or presence of the infrastructure makes a significant contribution to the health, safety, security or economic well-being of Manitobans” (2(1)) and that “land or premises on which critical infrastructure is located is considered to form part of the critical infrastructure” (2(3)). Under section 4 of Bill 57, courts could make an order to

Bill 62 allowed agricultural industries to establish a “biosecurity zone,” which meant “an area on or within a farm, animal production facility, or animal processing facility” that an established agricultural metric or government agency, including the Canadian Food Inspection Agency and the National Swine Farm-Level Biosecurity Standard published by the Canadian Pork Council, would designate. Bill 62 stipulated that “a person must not interfere with a biosecurity zone or compromise the integrity of a biosecurity zone,” (13.1(2)), “interfere with or interact with a commercial animal in a biosecurity zone” (13.1(3)) or “interfere with or interact with a commercial animal being transported by or kept in a vehicle” (13.2(2)). Bill 63 prohibited entry to “lands or premises without the permission of the owner, tenant, or occupier,” including “(iii) a construction site,… (v) a farmyard or storage site for agricultural equipment, (vi) lands or premises used for the cultivation of crops, the grazing or feeding of animals, the raising of birds or fish, or beekeeping.” All three bills codified land as a space upon which to conduct and secure the economic functions of the province. The bills ranged in scope from a single industry, as with Bill 62, to a broad list of critical infrastructure, as with Bill 57: agriculture and food production; communications; government facilities “for the effective functioning of the Legislature”; healthcare; justice and public safety; oil, gas, and electricity, including pipelines; transportation, including railways; waste disposal; and water, sewers and drainage. Lastly, the bills gave critical infrastructure on private lands legal protection against interference and authorized the Manitoba justice system and/or the agricultural sector to determine how land should be owned and used.

The bills were similar in that they determined what spaces were available for public entry. The court that issued a critical infrastructure protection zone under Bill 57 would then:

Courts were empowered to determine whether protesters should have the space to protest and what activities constituted legitimate protest (that is, nothing interpreted as unsafe or threatening the infrastructure). Bill 62 prohibited a person from entering “a biosecurity zone without the consent of (a) the owner of the commercial animals being kept in the zone; or (b) the occupier of the zone, if no commercial animals are being kept in the zone at the time of entry” (13.1(1)), while Bill 63 1(1) a) authorized the expulsion of anyone from anywhere that “fences, walls, or natural boundary… [or] signage… indicate an intention to keep persons off or animals on the lands or premises.” All three bills prescribed where public entry was permissible and when the court or private landowner had the legal authority to bar entry. Consent was conceptualized as being wielded by private owners, not as being held by or in consultation with Indigenous land stewards.

The bills differed in terms of the limitations on public protest and “appropriate” activities on land. While Bill 63 did not explicitly limit the space for protest in relation to critical infrastructure or private lands, Bill 57 limited protests once a court had authorized a critical infrastructure protection zone. Bill 62, section 13.2(1) stated that a “person must not stop, hinder, obstruct or otherwise interfere with a vehicle transporting a commercial animal,” which could be interpreted as including protest. However, Bill 57 was the broadest attempt at limiting direct courses of action that Indigenous peoples may employ to express their dissent toward critical infrastructure projects in Manitoba. The House deliberations illustrate the dialectics of securitization and counter-securitization pertaining to the three bills.

Securitization discourse: introduction of government bills

Government ministers introduced Bills 57, 62 and 63 as attempts to balance protest with the economy. Bill 57 was described as protecting “critical infrastructure if and when a protest harms or threatens to harm the public interest of Manitobans,” with the right to protest being balanced with “the rights of Manitobans to enjoy their property and preserve their livelihoods” (Cullen, 11/2/20: 438). All three Bills securitized land-as-infrastructure: Bill 57, against “undue obstruction”; Bill 63, against “confrontations between landowners and trespassers”; and Bill 62, against “persons who interfere with food production facilities that could result in harm to people, animals, and the food supply” (Cullen, 11/2/20: 438–439; Pedersen, 11/2/20: 436). In each case, the Manitoba Government securitized against activities that may obstruct the use of land for the provincial economy.

According to securitization theory, the first readings performed to all legislative members, and secondarily, the Manitoba public that protecting critical infrastructure required legislating acceptable and unacceptable interactions with infrastructure. The first readings equated “Manitobans” to “landowners” and those trying to make a “livelihood,” in contrast to the “trespasser” or “protester” who may aim to disrupt economic infrastructure. This discourse created a binary between supporters of critical infrastructure and those who may protest it, thus reinforcing the notion that provincial institutions should be empowered to determine how land is used and conceptualized. The first readings codified land as private property and the basis of industry, while not respecting Indigenous understandings of land stewardship.

Counter-securitization discourses: ontological resistance

Indigenous opposition members saw the bills as security measures that protected the economy and private property and threatened Indigenous peoples’ rights to freedom of expression and mobility. Fontaine critiqued Bill 57 for giving “the minister and large corporations unprecedented power to silence those that would dare to protest for environmental rights, Indigenous rights, women’s rights, just to name a few” (03/25/21: 2046). She drew attention to the restrictions on mobility imposed by Bills 62 and 63 in relation to Bill 57: “You can’t look at Bills 62 and 63 without looking at Bill 57…. These bills are meant to restrict the movement of Manitobans who are seeking justice or remedy” (05/20/21: 3359). Fontaine’s discourse reframed the bills as sources of insecurity for Indigenous peoples who wish to voice their discontent and to reclaim space for dissent and freedom of movement.

Indigenous opposition members counter-securitized the three bills as infringing on the lives of Indigenous peoples and land and animal defenders. Fontaine argued, under Bill 62, an individual could be fined up to $10,000 or imprisoned up to 1 year for giving farm animals water (04/12/2021: 2313). Fontaine’s framing connected the penalties of Bill 62 to direct impacts on the lives and autonomy of animal defenders and more-than-human beings. Bills 57 and 63 were framed in more life-threatening terms than Bill 62, with Bill 57 seen as a targeted attack against Indigenous land defenders, environmentalists and labour and animal welfare activists (03/17/21: 1718). Ian Bushie’s (03/22/21: 1844) reframing of Bill 63 anticipated an erosion of Indigenous–settler relations: “[the Bill] brings forward and incites confrontation. The minister talks about [how] this is going to eliminate those confrontations. Fact of the matter is, it’s going to incite [them].” Fontaine and Bushie described the bills as threatening to how Indigenous peoples conduct their lives; the referent of security through this lens became Indigenous lives facing insecurity from critical infrastructure legislation. Furthermore, Fontaine’s and Bushie’s counter-securitization of the bills reframed the conceptualization of land within the bills as a source of physical insecurity rather than of economic security.

Indigenous opposition members described the bills as reinforcing ontologies of Indigenous lands as private property and industrial sites. They were framed as restricting how Indigenous peoples interact with land, requiring individuals to obtain consent before entering and interacting with animals in tightly controlled agricultural areas and giving the government “incredible powers” to designate areas as “protest-free zones” (Fontaine, 03/17/21: 1717). Fontaine’s discourse repositioned the referent of security from economic systems to individuals whose inherent rights to access land and protest were facing restrictions. Bushie (03/22/21: 1844) examined the bills’ descriptions of “landowners” and “trespassing” in relation to the murder of Colten Boushie: “Colten Boushie did not trespass. He was on land that inherently belonged to Indigenous peoples; that inherently belonged to his community; traditional territory of his ancestors and will be traditional territory of his future generations.” Bushie connected his analysis to Bill 63’s marginalization of Indigenous landholders:

Both Fontaine and Bushie described Indigenous lands and ontologies as facing insecurity because of the Bills. The MLAs challenged the bills’ binary of “landowners” and “trespassers,” arguing that such terms narrowed Indigenous lands to that of strictly being sites for critical infrastructure. By shifting away from the landowner/trespasser binary, Indigenous members expanded the referent of security. Fontaine (03/22/21: 1843) explained that “Indigenous peoples are not happy about the sweep of legislation that we see, but so are Manitobans.” This introduced an inclusive “Manitoban” referent, one that countered the landowner/trespasser binary that the bills established and broadened the discussion of security beyond the bills’ focus on economic security.

Government responses to counter-securitization discourses

Government members responded to the counter-securitization of Bills 62 and 63 by shifting the discourse to public safety and de-escalation rather than repeating its securitization of economic systems. It attempted to reframe Bill 63 as an effort to de-escalate conflict. As Minister Friesen stated, “It is in no one’s best interest that some kind of confrontation—a face-to-face confrontation—happens, and right now with our rules, that is exactly what must occur in order for someone to convey to someone else that they shouldn’t be on that property” (03/22/21: 1838). He further asserted that the government respected the hunting, trapping and fishing rights of First Nations and other Indigenous peoples, and that “these amendments do nothing to impinge or impugn those rights” (Friesen, 03/22/21: 1838) to try and re-shift the referent of security to all Manitobans and present Bill 63 as an answer to confrontations on property. Bill 62 similarly saw the Government shifting the security discourse to refocus the referent of security to livestock and families:

This anecdote attempted to reframe the security discourse to that of addressing individual misconduct rather than community protest as the source of insecurity. The rhetoric also attempted to frame the opposition’s concerns about Bill 62 as primarily partisan and securitizes such partisanship as contributing to the insecurity of farmers and livestock.

The (counter-) security and ontological discourses of what land represents persisted throughout Bill 57’s debate. When called upon to withdraw Bill 57 by Fontaine, the Premier asserted that:

The discourse on Bill 57 differed from the discourse on Bills 62 and 63 in that there was no similar attempt to de-securitize the legislation. The Government’s response did not reframe the legislation as not infringing on Indigenous lives and rights. Instead, the Premier reasserted a conceptualization of land-as-property and explicitly imposed that understanding on Indigenous peoples. Accusations of partisanship were invoked, but an attack on an Indigenous individual’s commitment to supporting Indigenous peoples separated the Government response on Bill 57 from the responses on Bills 62 and 63. As Fontaine (Reference Fontaine2022: Interview) expresses, “a real ally would never say that to an Indigenous woman. Never.”

The Government’s reframing of Bills 57, 62 and 63 did not change their content, but rather represents a shift in performance on the latter two bills. The Government discourse attempted, to varying degrees, to shift the bills’ meaning from being interpreted as sources of insecurity for Indigenous peoples. However, the ontology of land as private property remained, as demonstrated during Bill 63’s third reading: “the bill is designed so that a property that is marked or partially enclosed, there when a person enters into it without permission, that would constitute trespassing” (Friesen, 05/20/21: 3359). The private property/trespassing binary persisted throughout the Government’s discourse. However, there was no similar reframing of Bill 57 as an effort to promote public safety as there was for Bills 62 and 63. Government discourse on this Bill ignored Indigenous conceptualizations of land and imposed settler-colonial understandings of land-as-private property upon Indigenous peoples. Ultimately, the government’s actions illustrated that no piece of legislation was exempt from Indigenous opposition members’ scrutiny. Their resistance through counter-securitization exposed critical infrastructure securitization within the legislative chamber as far from normal, necessary and unchallengeable.