Arctic (in)security and Indigenous peoples: Comparing Inuit in Canada and Sámi in Norway

Abstract

While international relations has increasingly begun to recognize the political salience of Indigenous peoples, the related field of security studies has not significantly incorporated Indigenous peoples either theoretically or empirically. This article helps to address this gap by comparing two Arctic Indigenous peoples – Inuit in Canada and Sámi in Norway – as ‘securitizing actors’ within their respective states. It examines how organizations representing Inuit and Sámi each articulate the meaning of security in the circumpolar Arctic region. It finds that Inuit representatives have framed environmental and social challenges as security issues, identifying a conception of Arctic security that emphasizes environmental protection, preservation of cultural identity, and maintenance of Indigenous political autonomy. While there are some similarities between the two, Sámi generally do not employ securitizing language to discuss environmental and social issues, rarely characterizing them as existential issues threatening their survival or wellbeing.

Drawing on securitization theory, this article proposes three factors to explain why Inuit have sought to construct serious challenges in the Arctic as security issues while Sámi have not: ecological differences between the Canadian and Norwegian Arctic regions, and resulting differences in experience of environmental change; the relative degree of social inclusion of Inuit and Sámi within their non-Indigenous majority societies; and geography, particularly the proximity of Norway to Russia, which results in a more robust conception of national security that restricts space for alternative, non-state security discourses. This article thus links recent developments in security studies and international relations with key trends in Indigenous politics, environmental change, and the geopolitics of the Arctic region.

Keywords

Arctic environmental change Indigenous insecurity securitization security

Introduction

The ongoing ecological, political, and social transformation of the Arctic has, among many consequences, caused various reassessments of what security means for the region and its inhabitants. States have released new Arctic foreign and security policies emphasizing sovereign territoriality, militarized defence against conventional and unconventional threats, and expanded natural resource extraction (Heininen, 2012), but other actors articulate alternative conceptions of (in)security in the Arctic that suggest its meaning is contested.¹ This article explores one aspect of the contested nature of Arctic (in)security by examining the discourses of two Indigenous peoples: Inuit in Canada and Sámi in Norway. It employs securitization theory to compare how Inuit and Sámi representatives define (in)security and identifies three factors to explain why Sámi have not sought to construct environmental and social concerns as security issues within public policy, as Inuit have. It thus applies constructivist approaches to (in)security to the under-examined area of Indigenous peoples in order to explain variation in different understandings of (in)security. The article offers an indigenist contribution to Arctic security studies by incorporating the perspectives of the region’s original inhabitants into a discourse from which they have typically been excluded.

Section one outlines securitization theory and provides an overview of Indigenous peoples in the Arctic. It emphasizes that Inuit and Sámi are organized, legitimate, and empowered political actors with constitutional and legislated standing as self-governing rights-holders within their respective national contexts, and situates this article within an indigenist research agenda that seeks to decolonize Arctic security discourse. Sections two and three examine how Inuit and Sámi leaders and organizations, respectively, have articulated (in)security. Based on discourse analysis and primary interviews, Inuit and Sámi identify similar understandings of (in)security that emphasize protecting the natural environment, preserving cultural identity, and maintaining political autonomy within settler-colonial Arctic states. However, since Inuit have attempted to construct their priorities as security issues within public discourse, while Sámi have not, section four identifies three explanatory factors for Inuit attempted securitization and Sámi non-securitization: differing degrees of environmental change between the Canadian and Norwegian Arctic regions, the relative inclusion of Inuit and Sámi within their respective societies, and Norway’s geographic proximity to Russia and a resulting national security discourse that restricts space for alternative security claims. These factors suggest that how groups articulate (in)security reflects their distinct histories, patterns of political and social development, and material contexts, and illuminate some of the conditions under which securitization – as the process through which security threats are constructed – may fail to occur.

Constructing (Indigenous) (in)security

Securitization and identity

(In)security is an essentially contested concept that is contextual, ambiguous, and inherently political (Smith, 2005). One prominent framework for explaining how (in)security is socially constructed is securitization, a ‘radically constructivist’ theory developed to account for the changing nature of security threats following the Cold War. Securitization explains how security issues are designated through the intersubjective (re)production of certain phenomena as threatening (Buzan et al., 1998: 35). The process occurs when an actor employs (in)security grammar and vocabulary – security, insecurity, threat, danger, existence, survival, etc. – to claim that something threatens the continued existence or wellbeing of a specific referent object. These security claims, called securitizing moves, transform into successful securitizations only when accepted by an authoritative audience with the power to respond to the threat. By making a securitizing move, an actor seeks to elevate a threat-referent relationship to the highest level of priority within a particular political context, thus mobilizing political and material resources to defend the specified referent object.

A securitizing move’s likely success is structured by three ‘facilitating conditions’: the use of securitizing language, the authority and social capital of the securitizing actor, and the features of the threat (Buzan et al., 1998: 33). These shape whether securitizing moves invoke an existential threat, whether actors are heard, and which phenomena can be credibly securitized. Thus, a key variable is identity, but there is no consensus as to which role it plays in securitization. Initially, securitization theory incorporated identity as a component of societal security, wherein ‘the referent object is large-scale collective identities that can function independent of the state’ (Buzan et al., 1998: 22). Subsequent analysts theorized various relationships between identity and (in)security, including: how identity is (re)produced through security practices and discourses (Campbell, 1998; McSweeney, 1999); how identity constrains what issues can be considered threatening (Hayes, 2012); and how certain threats affect non-dominant identity groups (Hoogensen and Rottem, 2004). However, (in)security is generally recognized as a ‘structured field’ characterized by unequal ‘social power’ that constrains some actors’ capacities to successfully securitize ‘their’ issues (Buzan et al., 1998: 3; Balzacq, 2005: 190–191). The identities of securitizing actors thus operate ‘as a catalyst or gate-keeper in accepting a particular idea as a threat’ (Sjöstedt, 2013: 153). Identity is key for understanding securitization because it contributes to what is understood as a security issue, and how securitizing moves operate based on relations of power and dominance that can facilitate or inhibit securitization.

Arctic Indigenous peoples

In the Arctic, a relevant identity group for securitization analysis is Indigenous peoples, who inhabit seven of the eight Arctic states and comprise ten per cent of the region’s four million residents. While debates over defining indigeneity remain relevant (Corntassel, 2003; Guenther, 2006), Arctic Indigenous peoples retain transboundary identities and demonstrate continuity with pre-colonial patterns of settlement and activity. Most enjoy some degree of self-government and are represented in regional politics through the six Permanent Participants of the Arctic Council, which Indigenous peoples helped establish (English, 2013). Indeed, while historically marginalized within their respective states, the political inclusion of Indigenous peoples is a defining feature of post-Cold War Arctic order (Koivurova and Heinämäki, 2006; Tennberg, 2010). With the exception of those in Russia, Arctic Indigenous peoples also enjoy social benefits as citizens of wealthy states in the Global North, including public welfare, employment insurance, health services, and support for Indigenous language and education; and certain rights to land use, title, and collective ownership (Poppel, 2015).

But despite this progress, relationships between Arctic Indigenous peoples and governments remain structured by settler-colonial values, institutions, and interests. Permanent inclusion on the Arctic Council, ratification of the United Nations Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, and domestic acknowledgement and reparation for certain historical wrongs reflect state efforts to reconcile with Indigenous peoples, but the terms of Indigenous political inclusion remain constrained. While ‘the most egregious expressions of colonialism have been discredited … what remained untouched are those “colonial agendas” that have had a controlling (systemic) effect in privileging national (white) interests at the expense of indigenous rights’ (Maaka and Fleras, 2005: 12). As discussed below, one manifestation of this ‘colonial agenda’ is the constrained ability of Indigenous peoples to advance a conception of (in)security that is distinct from those of settler governments. In so far as (in)security denotes real or perceived challenges to the survival or wellbeing of a specified group of people, the inability to successfully securitize may have grave implications. Though more empowered than ever before, Arctic Indigenous peoples lack the power to defend against the challenges they identify as threatening their collective futures.

Indigenist Arctic (security) research

Indigeneity is constituted by social and political non-dominance reflected in both material and ideational forms. Conditions of material non-dominance vary, but generally include worse qualities of life, greater governmental control, and restrictions upon Indigenous rights and autonomy resulting from ‘the demoralising effects of dispossession, forced removals, open racism and discrimination, and destruction of language, identity, and culture’ (Maaka and Fleras, 2005: 26). Less overt but more pernicious is the ideational non-dominance that results from privileging settler-colonial legal and political systems while marginalizing Indigenous ways of knowing and being. Efforts to render Indigenous peoples legible to the colonial state required structuring the social terrain on which Indigenous/non-Indigenous relations occurred in a manner favourable to the colonizer, including subjecting Indigenous knowledge, social organization, and legal orders to alien (i.e., settler) values, impeding their transmission to younger generations, and later co-opting them into certain political processes (Tuhiwai Smith, 1999). The result has been widespread discrediting of the validity, legality, and morality of Indigenous knowledges precisely because they differ from settler-colonial and scientific rationalist modes of thought and behaviour.

Academic research has contributed to the (re)production of Indigenous non-dominance through the explicit and implicit privileging of settler perspectives, resulting in the erasure and denial of Indigenous histories, epistemologies, and interests. Research pertaining to Indigenous peoples that excludes their voices and perspectives contributes to the ‘cognitive imperialism’ that has underpinned colonization (Battiste, 2000: xvii). Disciplines, such as international relations and security studies, that focus primarily on state behaviour, the international system, and interstate interaction have taken little account of Indigenous peoples or other sub-altern actors (Tuhiwai Smith, 1999: 35; see also Barkawi and Laffey, 2006). The omission and delegitimization of Indigenous knowledge is a precondition for Indigenous non-dominance, particularly as it pertains to basic decisions over how they can and should live in the modern world. Researchers must therefore be conscious of their role in supporting or silencing the voices of Indigenous peoples and other non-dominant groups, and of the ethical implications of writing them out of accounts of contemporary politics.

To this end, some scholars have advocated an ‘indigenist’ research agenda that contributes to the methodological and epistemological decolonization of academic scholarship. In outlining what indigenist research might entail, Linda Tuhiwai Smith (1999: 142–153) identifies 25 different projects that incorporate Indigenous knowledge or knowledge production. Some – such as claiming, naming, or giving testimony to Indigenous experiences – are unavailable to non-Indigenous researchers like myself. Others – such as revitalizing, restoring, and returning Indigenous practices, language, culture, or territory – are beyond the scope of this research. However, in providing the first comparative analysis of Indigenous understandings of Arctic (in)security, this article reflects three indigenist projects. It reframes how issues that Indigenous peoples consider vital may be understood by scholars and policymakers. In so doing, it represents the issues they have articulated as threatening their survival and wellbeing as security issues. And by examining Indigenous understandings of Arctic security and their absence from the policies of circumpolar states, it helps indigenize Arctic security discourse and extend security analysis beyond states and elite actors.

By examining Indigenous perspectives on Arctic security, this article complements other recent works that centre Indigenous peoples in the foreign and security policies and praxis of settler states (Beier, 2005; Broadhead, 2010; Crosby and Monaghan, 2012). As an academic study that purposively incorporates Indigenous voices that have typically been excluded from security studies, undertaken by a non-Indigenous scholar rooted in Western social science epistemology, it reflects a hybrid indigenist project. Examining Indigenous peoples’ security claims involves analyzing them through a theoretical lens that is non-Indigenous, but this does not entail distorting the views of Indigenous leaders. To the contrary, highlighting Indigenous leaders’ articulations of (in)security that emphasize social and environmental factors may contribute to decolonization by pushing back against the dominant construction of (in)security as military violence, territorial borders, and the national interests of sovereign states. Decolonizing how security is understood and enacted in the circumpolar Arctic is thus an analytical and normative goal of this research. But decolonization

does not mean and has not meant a total rejection of all theory or research or Western knowledge. Rather, it is about centring [indigenous] concerns and worldviews and then coming to know and understand theory and research from [indigenous] perspectives and for [indigenous] purposes (Tuhiwai Smith, 1999: 39).

Because indigenist research is that which ‘borrows freely from feminist research and critical approaches to research, but privileges indigenous voices’ (Tuhiwai Smith, 1999: 147), my hope is this article will contribute to decolonizing how (in)security in the Arctic is understood. Perhaps once the discourse of Arctic (in)security has been decolonized, the practices of Arctic states will follow.

Indigenous (in)securities in the Canadian Arctic

Inuit are the historical inhabitants of much of Canada’s Arctic territory and, as the largest Indigenous people in northern Canada at 55,000 persons, are central to its social fabric and political institutions. Four recognized Inuit regions – the Inuvialuit Settlement Region, Nunavut, Nunavik, and Nunatsiavut – are collectively known as Inuit Nunangat and form part of the transnational Inuit homeland of Inuit Nunaat, which also comprises territory in Greenland, Alaska, and Russia. Inuit are one of three Aboriginal groups recognized in the Canadian constitution, and are represented through organizations such as: Inuit Tapiriit Kanatami (ITK), the national Inuit organization; the Inuit Circumpolar Council (ICC), one of the Permanent Participants at the Arctic Council; a range of local and regional governments and organizations, including Inuit-owned corporations which administer land claim agreements with the Government of Canada; and the Government of Nunavut, where Inuit are 85% of the population (Simon, 2011).

The few studies that examine Inuit security discourses identify the central role of the environment, culture, and autonomy for Inuit ways of living. Greaves (2012) examined the online documents produced between 2001 and 2011 by four Indigenous organizations in Arctic Canada, including the ICC and ITK. Of 538 available documents, 25 made securitizing moves depicting threats to referent objects such as: the Arctic environment; food security, especially caribou herds; culture, language, or traditional ways of life; Indigenous health; and Indigenous human rights. Survival for all these referent objects was linked to human-caused environmental changes; no securitizing move was made that did not identify the direct or indirect impacts of climate change as the source of threat. Contributors to Nickels (2013) also illustrate the extent to which Inuit security discourse emphasizes the interrelationship between environmental change, colonialism, and modernization. Many scholars and Inuit leaders thus characterize the ways in which climate change is affecting physical and cultural wellbeing in the Arctic using ‘security talk’. While some analysts reject the term ‘environmental security’ to describe Inuit discourse on environmental change (Smith and Parks, 2010), this work still identifies widespread Inuit use of concepts such as threat and vulnerability, and cites numerous statements that can be classified as securitizing moves because they identify environmental hazards to referent objects such as culture, language, livelihoods, and Indigenous rights. Thus, it is reasonable to suggest that Inuit have principally operationalized (in)security in terms of the direct and indirect effects of environmental changes.

How Inuit conceive (in)security can also be inferred from the Arctic Security Public Opinion Survey. Conducted in 2015 and 2010, it finds that a large plurality of more than a third of Northern Canadians (including Inuit and non-Inuit respondents) identify the environment, global warming, and climate change as the most important Arctic issues and the greatest threats facing the region, followed by housing and community infrastructure, and the economy, jobs and employment (EKOS, 2015: 25–27; EKOS, 2011: 12–13). More than 91% of respondents considered environmental security to be important for Arctic security, with 90% also identifying social security (comprising health care, education, housing, and community infrastructure), 78% economic security, and 66% cultural and language security, with support for economic and cultural and language security rising to 84% and 74%, respectively, in Nunavut, where Inuit are a large majority (EKOS, 2011: 14–15). Additionally, 78% of Northerners also agreed that ‘strengthening Canada’s climate change policies is a critical step in ensuring the security of Arctic residents’ (EKOS, 2011: 23). The authors conclude that Northerners ‘see environmental security and social security as key elements to protecting the Canadian Arctic. National security, while still seen as important, does not seem to be a leading priority’ (EKOS, 2011: 13). Such attitudes reflect Indigenous views across the region, since

on average three out of four [Arctic] indigenous people perceive climate change to be a problem in their communities, and more than 50 per cent mention local contaminated sites, pollution of local lakes and streams and pollution from industrial development as problems. (Poppel, 2015: 56)

Discourse analysis of security claims by Inuit leaders and organizations supports these findings. Mary Simon, former president of ICC and ITK, notes that Inuit ‘subscribe to the concept that security should be understood in a broad sense. Just as health is more than the absence of disease, so, too, security is more than the absence of military conflict’ (Simon, 2011: 891). Rosemarie Kuptana (2013: 11–12), another former president of ITK, also defines security in holistic terms:

Security is more than about arms build-up. Security is about ensuring that Inuit are equal members of the human family and have the economic base to ensure a reasonable life-style as defined by contemporary Canada…. Security to Inuit was, and is, having food, clothing and shelter.

Udloriak Hanson (2013: 2), a former official with ITK, states: ‘Security from our societal perspective comes from access to the basic essentials of life – food, shelter and water.’ And Nancy Karetak-Liddell, the first Member of Parliament for Nunavut, describes security for Inuit as ‘feeling safe on our lands, in our communities, having the ability to freely move around, the ability to practice our own way’ (interviewed in Konek et al., 2013). While Inuit leaders acknowledge that military activity is a valid component of Arctic security, particularly through non-combat capabilities such as the Canadian Rangers, they are unanimous that it is insufficient for a full understanding of what Inuit require to be secure.

(In)security and environmental change

Central to Inuit articulations of (in)security are the impacts of environmental change. For instance, though Simon identifies issues such as education, political engagement, and benefit-sharing from natural resource development as crucial for Inuit’s future, she only employs securitizing language in relation to climate change: ‘The urgency surrounding mitigating the impact of climate change grows with the almost daily news … Arctic ice is melting three times faster than models had earlier predicted – and the earlier predictions were alarming. The Arctic is melting, with dramatic consequences for all of us’ (Simon, 2009: 256). Terry Audla, president of ITK until 2015, links ‘the insecurities that Inuit face as a result of our living […through] a firestorm of cultural change’, with the challenges of economic modernization in the Arctic (Audla, 2013: 8). But he sees climate change eroding conditions of security in the Arctic, ‘with particularly dire challenges to Inuit’ (Audla, 2013: 8). Audla describes how:

In the Arctic, our physical security has already been challenged by such things as changes to wildlife patterns, unreliable wind and temperature patterns and associated thawing and freezing cycles, rising sea levels, and shifting building foundations due to permafrost variation…. Climate change at a rate and of an intensity that appears unprecedented, and well outside Inuit cultural memory, creates insecurities of an entirely new nature, generating concerns about the sustainability of large aspects of our inherited and acquired patterns of life … our very sense of who and what we are as Inuit. (Audla, 2013: 8)

Sheila Watt-Cloutier, former president of the ICC, concurs that ‘human-induced climate change is undermining the ecosystem upon which Inuit depend for their cultural survival…. threaten[ing] our ability far to the North to live as we have always done in harmony with a fragile, vulnerable, and sensitive environment’, and notes, ‘the changes to our climate and our environment will bring about the end of the Inuit culture’ (quoted in Smith and Parks, 2010: 7–8). In no uncertain terms, she asserts: ‘climate change is threatening the lives, health, culture and livelihoods of the Inuit’ (Watt-Cloutier, 2005).

Prioritizing environmental change conflicts with many regional actors’ focus on extracting Arctic resources, particularly hydrocarbons. While Indigenous peoples express various attitudes towards extractive activities in their territories, Inuit leaders emphasize the Circumpolar Inuit Declaration on Resource Development Principles. It stipulates that all actors ‘have a shared responsibility to evaluate the risks and benefits of their actions through the prism of global environmental security’ (ICC, 2011: s.5.1), and that

resource development in Inuit Nunaat must contribute to, and not detract from, global, national and regional efforts to curb greenhouse gas emissions and should always be seen through the reality of climate change…. To minimize the risk to global environmental security, the pace of resource development in the Arctic must be carefully considered. (ICC, 2011: s.5.2, s.5.5)

It indicates that revenues from resource development must go towards ‘providing security against unplanned or unintended environmental consequences’ (ICC, 2011: s.9.5), and links threats to Arctic wildlife, food security, and Inuit culture with ‘the scope and depth of climate change and other environmental pressures and challenges facing the Arctic’ (ICC, 2011: preamble). According to one elder: ‘The greatest risk to our security is these companies that operate offshore could do major damage to our marine biology’ (William Barbour, interviewed in Konek et al., 2013). Environmental changes are depicted as the context within which decisions about resource extraction must be made, emphasizing both global and local dimensions of risk due to extractive activities.

(In)security and the settler state

Many Inuit leaders specify that the Government of Canada’s policies are detrimental to their security. More than 25 years ago, Mary Simon (1989: 36, 67) argued that Canada’s approach to Arctic issues undermined Inuit values and interests because it was defined ‘by the government on the basis of defence and military considerations […that] too often serve to promote our insecurity’ (emphasis in original), whereas for Inuit ‘Arctic security includes environmental, economic and cultural, as well as defence, aspects.’ Others implicate government policies in historical and contemporary threats to Inuit from damage caused by colonial institutions, Canada’s failure to sufficiently involve Inuit in decisions affecting their homeland, and inadequate federal climate change policy. Zebedee Nungak (2013: 14) describes the ‘decimation of Inuit security’ resulting from colonization and imposition of Southern policies. Rosemarie Kuptana (2013: 12) attributes insecurities related to permanent settlement and assimilation with the actions of the Canadian state:

The settlement of Inuit in hamlets has resulted in many people being unskilled in hunting and the ways of life on the land…. The on-going results of this government policy have robbed the Inuit of a viable economy. The government policy of residential schools too worked to this end: it ensured, as best it could, that the traditional ways would not be transferred to a new generation. It can be argued, therefore, that ongoing government policy and actions are working to deprive the Inuit of a basic right to life.

These leaders emphasize that security for Inuit has been negatively affected by subordination to colonial and federal authorities. Key episodes in the relationship between Inuit and the Canadian state – including the slaughter of sled dogs by federal and provincial police in the 1950s–1960s (Croteau, 2010; Qikiqtani Inuit Association [QIA], 2010), and forced relocation of Inuit families to the High Arctic to act as ‘human flagpoles’ in support of Canada’s Arctic sovereignty (Tester and Kulchyski, 1994) – indicate a pattern of Inuit wellbeing undermined by government action. In these instances, security for Inuit was directly harmed by decisions that Canada took to assert its own Arctic interests.

As the principal instrument for Inuit self-determination, land claims are seen as crucial for achieving the autonomy necessary to protect Inuit interests and identity. As one respondent to the Arctic Security Public Opinion Survey explained, ‘security – in a broad way, [means] we want to protect ourselves and our wishes and our goals for the future’, while another noted that, ‘security in the Arctic, for me that would be like that my culture is still being alive and being able to stay alive’ (EKOS, 2011: 14). Thus, many Inuit identify Canada’s incomplete implementation of self-government through land claim agreements as affecting their rights and security. Kuptana (2013: 10–11) calls Canada’s ‘failure to consult Inuit on all matters affecting Inuit, including sovereignty and security’, illegal, and says ‘Inuit are suffering from a want of dialogue even though this dialogue is constitutionally mandated…. This manner of governing is not working for Inuit in Canada, particularly on the issue of arctic [sic] sovereignty and security’. James Arreak, CEO of Nunavut Tunngavik Incorporated, the company responsible for administering the Nunavut Land Claim Agreement (NLCA), observes the link between Inuit land claims and Canada’s Arctic sovereignty:

Notwithstanding the colonialism that marred the historic interaction of Inuit and the Canadian state, Inuit are proud Canadians. For years we have been holding up the Canadian flag over disputed waters of the Northwest Passage. Full and fair implementation of the NLCA must be part of our continuing to do so. (Arreak, 2013)

In linking autonomy and security, Kirt Ejesiak, a former official with ITK and the Government of Nunavut, claimed: ‘The security part comes in when our governments don’t respect our way of life’ (interviewed in Konek et al., 2013). Political autonomy as a self-determining Indigenous people is seen as vital to their security, and to ensuring the ability to provide for their security, including defending against social change, economic modernization, and cultural assimilation imposed from southern Canada.

Overall, the evidence indicates that Inuit in Canada understand security as a holistic concept that links protecting the Arctic environment from pollution and radical climate change, preserving their identity by maintaining cultural practices, and asserting their political autonomy within the Canadian settler state (Greaves, 2016). These referent objects are not viewed separately, but as inter-related and mutually reinforcing, consistent with other broad conceptions of (in)security that emphasize chronic and abrupt threats to human communities (United Nations Development Programme, 1994). However, while Inuit representatives function as securitizing actors by attempting to construct threats to their continued survival and future wellbeing as security issues within Canadian public discourse, they have failed to successfully securitize (Greaves, 2012; 2016). Despite Inuit being represented by legitimate and influential political actors, no audience with the power to mobilize a response – particularly the Government of Canada – has accepted these claims or instituted exceptional policy measures. Although they have been articulated directly and repeatedly to Parliament, the public, and the media, Inuit priorities remain subject to debate and contestation, and have not moved beyond the realm of normal politics in the way that is required for successful securitization. Notwithstanding significant progress towards self-determination, Inuit thus lack the power to securitize within the context of the Canadian state, and on their own terms, ‘have yet to find true security in Canada’ (Nungak, 2013: 15).

Indigenous (in)securities in Norway’s High North

This section examines the meaning of (in)security for Sámi in Norway. Of a total Sámi population of approximately 100,000 living in Norway, Sweden, Finland, and Russia, roughly half are Norwegian. Sámi are highly organized political actors who have sought state recognition of their collective rights, establishment of distinct institutions, and representation within regional and European fora. The transnational Saami Council represents all Sámi people as a Permanent Participant of the Arctic Council, while the establishment of Sámi parliaments in Norway, Sweden, and Finland from the 1980s to the 1990s met their demand for separate institutions while reaffirming their de facto separation into distinct national constituencies (Broderstad, 2011). Motivated by increasing awareness of environmental, political, and social challenges facing their transnational homeland of Sápmi, Sámi have become integral political actors in Fennoscandia, and one study of early post-Cold War security observed that Sámi ‘definitely have their own specific security problems’ (Eriksson, 1995: 271–272).

Sámi understandings of (in)security

To examine how Sámi have articulated the meaning of (in)security, I conducted a search of the online English-language documents published between 2001 and 2011 that are available from the Saami Council, the Sámi Resource Center, and the Gáldu Research Center for the Rights of Indigenous People. Out of 53 documents, 51% contained securitizing moves, of which 44% dealt with climate change specifically and 30% with the environment generally, suggesting the importance of the environment to Sámi. When referencing climate change, referent objects included traditional livelihoods (100% of cases), culture (92%), and autonomy or self-determination (25%). Given the strong link between reindeer herding and Sámi culture, there was significant overlap between culture and traditional livelihoods as referent objects. In cases citing environmental degradation, referent objects included reindeer herding (63%), Sámi culture (37%), autonomy or self-determination (37%), and traditional livelihoods (13%).

These securitizing moves identify various threats. When climate change was specified, threats included: the private sector (67%), the national government (42%), assimilation (25%), and climate change itself (17%). When referring to the environment generally, threats included private sector activities (88%), the host country (25%), and assimilation (25%). Securitizing moves were often very specific, with three quarters of those indicating the private sector as a threat naming specific industrial developments and their corporate owners. Many Sámi organizations explicitly identify the Norwegian government’s pro-resource development policies, particularly with respect to mining, as encouraging industrialization and assimilation in ways that threaten Indigenous wellbeing. For instance, Aili Keskitalo, President of the Sámi Parliament of Norway (the Sámediggi), has stated: ‘The degradation of the environment in Inuit and Saami traditional territories caused by e.g. pollution, non-sustainable natural resource extraction and climate change constitute a great threat to their traditional lifestyles and culture’ (Keskitalo, 2006). The pattern is clear: Sámi in Norway situate the natural environment and its link to Indigenous cultural practices at the centre of what (in)security means in their Arctic homeland.

This analysis has certain methodological limitations, foremost among them linguistic. Sámi organizations in Norway generally publish in Norwegian or one of three recognized Sámi languages, complicating the search for securitizing moves. While many important documents are translated, the sample of English texts remains quite small. Since organizations that publish in English tend to represent Sámi as a transnational people, rather than solely Sámi within Norway, it is also likely that English documents are directed at international audiences and may differ from speech acts directed at the Norwegian government. For instance, the Saami Council publishes most of its documents in English but represents Sámi in all four states, while the Sámediggi, exclusively representing Sámi in Norway, does not. The preceding analysis thus captures securitizing moves made on behalf of all Sámi directed at international audiences, but these may differ from statements intended for domestic political consumption.

These limitations indicate that discourse analysis should be complemented by qualitative research into Sámi understandings of Arctic security. Accordingly, I conducted semi-structured interviews with 12 senior individuals representing the Sámediggi, the Sámi Reindeer Herders’ Association of Norway, and the Saami Council. I also undertook participant observation of Sámi politicians, academics, activists, and community members over five months in northern Norway in 2014, including visits to five communities in Sápmi. The following findings offer the first detailed account of Sámi understandings of (in)security, and suggest significant consensus about the political issues considered most important by Sámi leaders and institutions in Norway.

Virtually all interview subjects identified conflicts over land use, particularly preservation of contiguous grazing areas for reindeer herding, and preservation of language and culture as the most important Sámi issues. They cited three types of land use conflict: development of new mines, siting of windmill farms, and oil and gas infrastructure. Of these, mining is the gravest concern. Spurred by rapid mining expansion in neighbouring Sweden and passage of a new Mineral Act in 2009, Sámi are increasingly concerned about what one respondent called a ‘mineral extraction wave’ also occurring in Norway. To Sven-Roald Nystø, former president of the Sámediggi: ‘Minerals, that’s a huge issue. The mineral deposits you find in the middle parts of the Sámi areas. The reindeer herders already complain that they are losing too much of their grazing land to infrastructure development.’ Some respondents claimed the long-term health and viability of Sámi communities are threatened by mining even if they experience short-term benefits. A representative of the Saami Council said mines

bring little back to the local community … After the mining has ended, the local communities are left with nothing … The non-renewable resources have been stolen, and the viable natural resources that we had before have been destroyed. And the things that we need to maintain our way of living are gone.

Another Saami Council official concurred, suggesting the greatest challenge confronting Sámi is

by far industrialization of traditional territory … The pressure from infrastructure and industry and so on has become so much that reindeer herding cannot sustain much more. We need to be able to stop these kinds of projects. They will soon start to pose a threat to the whole reindeer herding culture and livelihood.

Many noted that they did not oppose such projects on principle, but were sceptical of allowing new mines to proceed if they risked compromising the viability of reindeer herding.

Concern for grazing areas is also demonstrated by concern over ‘green’ development, particularly constructing windmill farms. Runar Myrnes Balto, political advisor to the President of the Sámediggi, considers wind farms to be nearly as problematic as new mines: ‘Green energy in the sense of windmills are taking a lot of land which was traditionally for the reindeer. So that is one of the key threats that we are facing.’ A Saami Council official expressed a similar view:

From a reindeer herding perspective, what matters is if it damages or not. It doesn’t matter if it’s green. It’s all about how it impacts on your livelihoods, and the herd is really the only thing that matters [… even if] a windmill park would be a lesser infringement.

Aili Keskitalo described the growth of wind farms in Sápmi as a form of ‘“green” colonization, colonization in the name of the climate’, that perpetuates historical patterns of southern policymakers making decisions over the High North (quoted in Moran, 2015). Many Sámi are thus as reluctant to cede grazing areas to renewable energy production as they are to extractive industries.

The third type of land use conflict was over the impacts of petroleum development, which has not been a significant issue in the High North due to the industry’s concentration in southern Norway. But two senior advisors to the Sámediggi observed that: ‘We know they are searching for new projects, and there may be many politicians who want it to come to shore, to have pipelines and other oil and gas industries on the land. So that’s a challenge for the future for us.’ Sven-Roald Nystø agreed that oil and gas are growing in importance:

Among Sámi in Norway, oil and gas has had minor effects regarding the material basis for Sámi industries. It is still a southern industry, but is now moving northward, yes. Those issues are climbing on the Sámi agenda as well.

The prospect of expanding petroleum operations in the Barents region and other ecologically sensitive areas has caused some Sámi to worry about repercussions for the coastal fishing sector (Kristoffersen and Dale, 2014). Christina Henriksen, a member of the Sámediggi, insisted that ‘significant measures to prevent oil spills and disasters at sea’ were essential for providing security in the High North. As with mining, objections focused on mitigating impacts for nearby communities and preserving the conditions for continued subsistence economic activities.

In addition to land use conflicts, almost all respondents also identified the preservation and revitalization of Sámi language, and by extension culture. Until the mid-20th century, Norway sought to eliminate Sámi cultural and religious distinctiveness through state policies of ‘Norwegianization’ (Minde, 2005). Consequently, in the last 30 years Sámi institutions have promoted linguistic and cultural communities throughout Norway, and language has become one of the most important markers of Sámi self-determination. According to one respondent, ‘we don’t have a country, so language becomes one of the most important things for our culture’. Language rights have been legislated, but only a small minority of Sámi remain fluent, making implementation a challenge. Runar Myrnes Balto noted the associated problem of linking Sámi language use with identity, and Nystø made a similar observation: ‘It is perhaps an emotional challenge to use a language which we are not supposed to be using. It is a matter of identity. Can we be good Sámi without knowing the language?’ Respondents noted the complicated relationship between language and cultural identity, and the challenge of promoting language revitalization without excluding the non-Sámi-speaking Sámi majority.

When directly asked to describe what security means to Sámi, respondents identified threat-referent relationships connecting the environment and subsistence activities, Indigenous culture and identity, and self-determination within the Norwegian state. Their understandings of (in)security emphasize the basic necessities of human wellbeing, since, as one said: ‘What can possibly be more important than clean water, fresh air, and clean food?’ Many respondents linked these to the threats many communities in Sápmi face from industrialization. For Myrnes Balto, the ‘first thing that comes to mind is the livelihood perspective, in the sense of traditional ways of living: reindeer herding, fishing, agriculture. Those I would say are under threat. That is the first threat I would identify.’ A senior official with the Saami Council said:

If you talk security with most Sámi, they would talk about environmental risks, and then also personal security … Reindeer herding is the most dangerous occupation … Accidents that have to do with vehicles, 4 wheelers than turn over, go though the ice. Also drowning, people go through the ice. Also fires in these huts.

The same respondent expanded on the relationship between security, legal rights, and Sámi decision-making over land use:

If you are successful with your legal claims, [and] gain control of your lands and resources that way, that gives you security … That would allow you to stop mining projects and so on in areas where you don’t find it suitable to pursue mining. Where the damage to traditional livelihoods or environmental risk is too high and so on …. Basically, [to] get control of the territories, and over your own society.

Sámi parliamentarian Christina Henriksen emphasized that ‘security also means we should be part of the decision-making, so we don’t just get to clean up the garbage’ of other governments’ decisions.

Another respondent from the Saami Council linked Sámi cultural and economic needs and small population size to their experiencing security differently from other Norwegians:

When we are a smaller population you might experience more security issues. Because you are being a smaller population, you might be ignored … In that sense we might have more issues that can be addressed as security. We might be more vulnerable in a way. We might be more exposed to insecurity.

Some situated threats relating to resource extraction and environmental degradation within a broader context. A youth representative of the Saami Council stated:

[We] have to think about the way we live in the world today … It’s the way we’re living that is the cause of the problem … If we don’t reconsider how we use minerals, resources, if we don’t recycle, and cut back, we will put the whole Arctic in danger.

This statement links Arctic resources with patterns of global consumption causing environmental changes for communities located near extraction sites or vulnerable to climate disruption.

Non-securitization in the High North

The interviews indicate that many Sámi hold a holistic understanding of (in)security. However, Sámi leaders and institutions in Norway have not functioned as securitizing actors because they do not seek to construct their priorities as security issues within Norwegian public policy. Security is not the framework within which Sámi issues are generally discussed, and was viewed sceptically by some respondents. ‘The term is rarely used’, said one, while another expressed concern that ‘security might have a negative connotation’ if it were employed to describe Sámi issues. Respondents noted Sámi issues are not typically described using security-related vocabulary:

I think that the use of the word ‘security’, and why we don’t use it within the Sámi discourse, is because the word has connotations to more ‘hard security’. It’s not relevant to the issues we are so concerned about. (Interview, 23 January 2015).

But others emphasized the salience of non-traditional security issues, particularly trans-national environmental hazards:

Of course it’s relevant, it’s just rarely used in the vocabulary. In the ‘80s, with the Chernobyl breakdown at the power plant, that had enormous impacts on reindeer herding [… and] made large areas of pastureland unusable. You could use the pasture, but then you could not eat the meat. Of course we are concerned about minimizing environmental security and impacts on environment. It’s just not spoken that much about. (Interview, 22 January 2015, a).

Some observed the downsides of securitization as a strategy for advancing Sámi priorities. Sven-Roald Nystø recalled that securitization of the Norway-Russia border during the Cold War impeded Sámi land rights and resulted in a restrictive discourse in which the state took security and defence decisions without consideration of Sámi interests, ‘so Sámi deliberately avoided the language of security in order to keep open their options or possibilities for resolving their struggle for political good will’. He suggested renewed securitization of the Norwegian Arctic through the government’s High North Initiative (Jensen and Skedsmo, 2010; Jensen, 2012) has produced a similar dynamic, with negative implications for Sámi:

We are talking on environmental security, society security, energy security, and so on and so on. And that in itself puts much more light on the high political issues in the Arctic and excludes a lot of stakeholders in the discussion on how to put forward civility in the Arctic debate. I think we have taken a couple of steps back in the desecuritization on the Arctic, and where it ends I’m not quite sure, but one of the losers in that process are, of course, Indigenous peoples.

Overall, Sámi in Norway have a similar, though not identical, conception of (in)security to Inuit in Canada. Sámi actors identify two priorities – land use conflicts affecting reindeer herding areas, and preservation of Sámi language and culture – and primarily define security in terms of protecting the environment, Indigenous identity and cultural practices, and autonomy and self-determination. For Sámi, the last of these is seen as essential for protecting the former two, though Sámi success in establishing self-determining institutions in northern Norway means most respondents did not see Sámi political rights as threatened. Notably, climate change is not generally regarded as a security issue, and when it is this is primarily due to effects on reindeer herding and other subsistence food sources. While Sámi express concern over various hazards to their interests, these are not described using securitizing language, and are rarely characterized as existential threats to Sámi survival. Thus, unlike Inuit, Sámi have not sought to securitize their social and environmental priorities despite occasional use of security language.

Explaining securitization and non-securitization in the Arctic

Given similarities between Inuit and Sámi as Indigenous peoples within middle power, liberal democratic Arctic states, the reluctance of Sámi to attempt securitization compared to frequent invocations of (in)security by Inuit leaders and organizations is puzzling. I suggest three factors that explain the non-securitization of Arctic issues by Sámi: differing impacts of climate change between Norway and Canada; greater Sámi inclusion within Norwegian society; and the proximity of Norway to Russia, which results in a more robust national security discourse that restricts space for alternative securitizing moves.

Ecological difference

The Arctic regions of Canada and Norway have distinct ecologies, resulting in milder climate change impacts in northern Europe, a temperate sub-Arctic region, compared to those in northern Canada. More than a decade ago, the Arctic Climate Impact Assessment (ACIA) observed that mean annual temperatures in Scandinavia had risen by about 1° Celsius since the 1950s, and winter temperatures by about 2° Celsius. Notably, ‘surface air temperatures over the Arctic and North Atlantic Oceans have remained very cold in winter, limiting the warming in coastal areas’ (ACIA, 2004: 112), where most settlements in northern Norway are located. By contrast, mean annual temperatures in the central and eastern Canadian Arctic increased by 1–2° Celsius over the same period, and winter temperatures by as much as 3–5° Celsius (ACIA, 2004: 113). The trend towards warmer temperatures in the North American Arctic compared to northern Europe is confirmed by the more recent Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Fifth Assessment Report (Larsen et al., 2014: 1579). In sum, northern Canada has experienced twice as much warming as the Norwegian High North, with significant impacts on sea ice, flora and fauna, permafrost thawing, and weather predictability.

As a result of their region’s less severe ecological changes, Sámi leaders recognize that climate change is generating negative effects but do not include it among their greatest concerns. Unsurprisingly, respondents identified the most relevant climate concern as impacts on reindeer. Randi Skum of the Reindeer Herders Association of Norway, and former member of the Sámediggi, described the challenges for the herding industry:

Now the rivers are open very early. Some rivers they don’t have ice at all. So its one effect is the traditional way of moving reindeers. Many have to move by cars now. You also see the changing in the type of vegetation and you see the forests actually moving higher and higher up in the mountains. And that also in a way changes the vegetation that the reindeers are dependent on. (Interview, 16 June 2014).

Respondents noted the increased cost of feeding reindeer unable to graze, as well as impacts such as altered fish stocks and decline in other marine animals.

In this respect, many respondents noted climate change generates questions of adaptation more than survival. Representatives of the Sámediggi and Saami Council observed that milder winters and longer growing seasons might benefit reindeer by causing easier access to grazing pasture and milder environmental conditions. Sven-Roald Nystø observed that uncertain weather is also nothing new for herders: ‘Most visible for the Sámi is snow and ice conditions for the reindeer herders. That’s a bigger issue. But that’s so unpredictable, and has always been unpredictable. That’s a permanent situation.’ Thus, rather than, for example, mitigating greenhouse gas emissions, Sámi institutions prioritize ‘protection of grazing land [as] the most important adaptive strategy for reindeer herders under climate change’ (Larsen et al., 2014: 1594). In the hierarchy of Sámi concerns, climate change ranks below other threats to land use; Runar Myrnes Balto observed that climate change is ‘just as serious [as mining], but it isn’t taken as seriously. Perhaps it should be’.

The limited emphasis on climate change is accentuated by Sámi recognition of their relative fortune compared to other Indigenous peoples. Several contrasted Sámi experiences with the environmental challenges confronting Inuit. To one Saami Council official,

the situation is very different even though we share a lot of similarities as Arctic Indigenous peoples, [Inuit] being much more dependent on ice, marine resources than we are. Much more exposed to natural catastrophes than we are.

Skum sees Canada as a cautionary tale, underscoring climate change as a future concern for Sámi:

We see what’s happening in [the] North of Canada. We have seen on television that the ice is melting, especially affect[ing] the Indigenous [people] there. I think also here in Norway it will be first the Indigenous here that actually will notice these changes.

Sámi perceptions that climate change is worse elsewhere, coupled with the comparatively mild environmental change they have experienced to date, underline that ecological differences partly account for the different Sámi and Inuit efforts to securitize the changing environment in their Arctic homelands. Sámi see climate change as an emerging challenge requiring management and adaptation, not as an urgent priority at the level of crisis or insecurity.

Social inclusion

The second factor why Sámi have not sought to securitize their priority issues is their high degree of inclusion within Norwegian society. According to the UN Special Rapporteur on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, ‘Sámi people in the Nordic countries do not have to deal with many of the socio-economic concerns that commonly face indigenous peoples throughout the world, such as serious health concerns, extreme poverty or hunger’ (Anaya, 2011: 3). Norway has ranked first or second on the UN Human Development Index every year since 2001, and Sámi enjoy all the benefits of citizenship in the world’s most prosperous social democracy:

Most relevant here is the idea of equality which has been a core value in Nordic societies since the 1930s … [and] the development of a welfare state with a safety net preventing any members of society from falling to destitution and misery. (Palmberg, 2009: 35)

Sámi are no different from other Norwegians based on socio-economic or epidemiological indicators; more controversially, they might be described as highly assimilated, since most Sámi are ‘practically indiscernible from their Norwegian neighbours’ (Saugestad, 2012: 233). By contrast, Nunavut ranks last among Canadian jurisdictions on almost every social and economic measure, and Inuit experience higher rates of mortality, interpersonal violence, substance abuse, hunger, disease, and poor education than almost any group in Canada (Nunavut Bureau of Statistics, n.d.; Poppel, 2015).

Social inclusion for Sámi was not always the case. For centuries, Sámi were oppressed by Scandinavian states that viewed them as inferior, if also indispensable in the disputed northern border regions (Berg, 2009). Discrimination through government policies of Norwegianization fuelled social and political resistance, and ignited a resurgence of Sámi cultural identity and political institutionalization in the late 20th century. Following major protests against a proposed hydroelectric dam on the Alta River in the early 1980s, Norway undertook significant legislative measures to address Sámi concerns. This led to a flurry of activity including a new Sámi Act in 1987, an amendment to the Norwegian Constitution in 1988, ratification of the International Labour Organization’s Indigenous and Tribal Peoples Convention in 1990, a White Paper on Sámi Policy in 2001 that recognized that ‘the Kingdom of Norway is based on the territory of two peoples’ (quoted in Saugestad, 2012: 234), and passage of the Finnmark Act in 2005 (Broderstad, 2011). Collectively, this legislation established the Sámi Parliament of Norway, recognized the linguistic and cultural rights of Sámi citizens, affirmed Norway’s bi-national character, committed it to best practices towards Indigenous peoples under international law, and significantly altered the administration of public lands in northern Norway by creating the first arrangement approximating a land claim agreement over parts of Sápmi (Minde, 2001; Smith, 2011). Consequently, Sámi are incorporated into Norwegian society and represented through distinct institutions reflecting their specific interests. The results are generally regarded as a political success for Sámi and non-Sámi alike, and have led to several decades of broadly cooperative policymaking between Sámi and Norwegian political actors (Josefsen, 2011).

This high degree of social inclusion, and its effect on the need to securitize, was also reflected in the interviews. According to one Sámi academic, whether a group frames their concerns as security issues

has to do with experiences of politics, what kind of experiences you have with the political system. We don’t need to use the concept [of security]. For good or bad, and mostly here for good, we are integrated into the society. Education, health, infrastructure: we are the same [as other Norwegians].

Multiple interviewees reiterated that Sámi have no need to articulate distinct security interests because they are incorporated into Norwegian society. One noted that though Sámi view themselves as distinct, ‘you have a Sámi public which is also very much connected to the Norwegian public. So it’s not a clear division between the Sámi public sphere and the Norwegian public sphere.’ If efforts by minority groups to securitize social and cultural issues are usually premised on their disenfranchisement by the dominant society, then the combination of social integration and distinct representation of Sámi in Norway can be expected to decrease the need to depict their collective security as threatened.

Russia

The third factor helping to explain why Sámi have not attempted securitization is that security in Norway is still seen as a privileged discourse that is principally the ambit of the state, primarily due to threats associated with Russia, including the possibility of military conflict. Fear of the Russian Other is an enduring feature of Norwegian history, and Russia affects multiple aspects of Norway’s contemporary security policies (Åtland and Pedersen, 2008; Pedersen, 2009; Jensen and Skedsmo, 2010). Jensen writes:

Everything that smacks of ‘security’ acquires a very particular status in Norwegian discourses on the High North. Discourses are wrapped in history, and here in the north, close to Russia, discursive fragments from the Cold War continue to ring like echoes from the past … There is no more obvious place for prolonging a sense of paranoia and general insecurity than in relation to the High North, where Norway’s national identity as a tiny, vulnerable land and the image of massive Russia (‘the Russian bear’) as ‘the radical other’ are clear and easily resuscitated in the ‘collective Norwegian mind’. (Jensen 2012: 90, 94)

This national security discourse centred on a credible military threat limits the conceptual and policy space available for alternative, non-state conceptions of (in)security. This is especially the case because High North policy centres around security but includes diverse policy areas: ‘The Norwegian approach ranges across issues as diverse as safeguarding the livelihoods, traditions, and cultures of indigenous peoples in the High North, promoting people-to-people cooperation, and developing policy on future petroleum activities in the Barents Sea’ (Jensen and Skedsmo, 2010: 444). While the High North has been increasingly securitized, the government has widened its meaning of security to accommodate a growing variety of issues, reducing the need for such security claims to be made by non-state actors.

Concern over Russia, or of interfering with the state’s ability to defend against Russia, limits the willingness of Sámi actors to employ security language in making their political claims. According to Sven-Roald Nystø, Sámi are impeded by the risk of infringing on ‘high politics’, and of unintentionally inviting the state to lead in resolving unconventional security issues: ‘It’s state-centric. When you say the word “security” then the governments say “whoa, hold your horses, this is our business”, because security in the older days was military security.’ Rather than define new issues as related to security, Sámi have employed alternate strategies of politicization and legalization, because ‘in so far as increasing numbers of questions issues dealing with the High North acquire a security flavour in the expanded sense of the term, the discursive consequences would appear to be the sublimation of other issues’ (Jensen, 2012: 95). Given the enduring challenges associated with their Russian neighbour, other types of securitizing moves are less able to generate discursive power. Sámi have chosen not to speak security rather than compete with the discursive position of Russia as the preeminent security issue in Norway’s High North.

Conclusion

Despite sharing a similar conception of Arctic (in)security with Inuit in Canada, Sámi have not functioned as securitizing actors within Norwegian politics. Whereas Inuit representatives often articulate their priorities as security issues, Sámi have not framed their concerns as security threats, and thus do not seek to elevate their concerns to the apex of political priority through the construction of existential threats within policy discourse. I have proposed three factors to explain why Sámi have not attempted securitization. First, less severe environmental changes in Sápmi moderate the material hazards Sámi face, reducing the existential implications of climate change. Second, Sámi are well-incorporated into Norwegian society, enjoying full benefits of citizenship of the world’s only social democratic petro-state. As such, they do not share the lower quality of life that afflicts Indigenous peoples in Canada, further reducing the material basis on which Sámi might base security claims against the Norwegian state. Third, the enduring prominence of Russia in Norwegian security policy makes it difficult for other security issues to gain traction. Unlike Canada, which has no realistic fear of Russian invasion, Norwegians have long worried over the possibility of conflict with their powerful but unstable neighbour. Continued concern over Russia – heightened since its invasion of Ukraine in 2014 – contributes to a robust Norwegian national security discourse that is less susceptible to alternative securitizing moves. Even if they so chose, Sámi might have difficulty successfully articulating distinct security claims. While Inuit express grave concern over the effects of environmental change on their continued survival, the absence of immediate threats to Sámi wellbeing offers few reasons to make securitizing moves distinct from, or directly against, the Norwegian state.

Footnotes

Acknowledgements

This article draws from research conducted as a Visiting Scholar at the Centre for Sámi Studies at the University of Tromsø, Norway. It has benefited from input by Matthew Hoffmann, Steven Bernstein, and Rauna Kuokkanen, and the research assistance of Amir Fleischmann. It was first presented at the ECPR General Conference in Montreal, QC in August 2015. Any errors or omissions are the author’s. This research was approved according to University of Toronto Ethics Research Protocol #29091.

Funding

This research was supported by funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada and the University of Toronto.

Notes

Wilfrid Greaves is a Lecturer in the Trudeau Centre for Peace, Conflict and Justice at the University of Toronto. His research interests include security in the circumpolar Arctic, natural resource extraction and climate change, Canadian foreign policy, and securitization theory. His work has been published in Polar Record, International Journal, Journal of Canadian Studies, Journal of Military and Strategic Studies, and Critical Studies on Security.

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