Of all the north circumpolar lands, only Greenland extends farther towards the top of the globe than the uppermost reaches of the Arctic Archipelago. Politicians and media commentators regularly extol Canada’s identity as a northern nation, yet this area’s official name since 1954 – the Queen Elizabeth Islands – is not widely known or often used, and most citizens’ knowledge of High Arctic geography is rather vague. Only the military station at Alert on the north coast of Ellesmere Island, about 800 km from the pole, stands out clearly amid the general blur.

The High Arctic region’s southern boundary is Parry Channel, the major east–west waterway through the archipelago, in latitude 74° north. Parry Channel also divides the islands where Indigenous people have lived continuously for millennia from those that were abandoned during the harsh climatic conditions of the Little Ice Age (which lasted roughly from 1300 to 1850 ad).

George Angohiatok (pronounced ‘ano-HI-tok’) is a keen observer of Arctic landscapes, animals, and peoples. Raised on the land by his parents and grandparents in the western Canadian Arctic, George talks easily about his deep appreciation for the land and his significant concerns for the future of the Arctic and Inuit. George shares his observations of changes to the physical and social environments – changes he calls overwhelming – through richly detailed personal narratives. In the conversations presented in this chapter, George deftly weaves together changes to both settings, and illustrates the importance of considering our two worlds holistically. George’s story and words are transcribed here with minimal interruption from the other authors. Conventional academic reflections on methodology and literature are found within George’s story and afterwards.

The European quest for a passage by water across North America long pre-dates the nineteenth century, but it was to be then that it took on the urgency of national achievement, and it was to be one man – Sir John Franklin (1786–1847) – whose career came to symbolize the entire era. It may seem an ironic honour, given the disaster that his final expedition of 1845 became, but it must be remembered that the search for his ships was the spur for many more expeditions than had been launched before him. As Joseph Conrad noted in his 1924 essay “Geography and Some Explorers”, ‘This great navigator, who never returned home, served geography even in his death. The persistent efforts, extending over ten years, to ascertain his fate advanced greatly our knowledge of the polar regions.’

The first written description of the muskox was published in 1744 by Pierre François Xavier de Charlevoix, a French Jesuit and historian, within a description of ‘New France’ (the French colony of North America) in his multi-volume Journal d’un voyage. He describes an animal encountered in the area of Hudson Bay with long, beautiful hair and a musky smell in rutting season – and he gave it the name boeuf musqué.1 Musk was originally a label for the odour from the gland of a male musk deer, a native of Asia, which was used in perfumes, but animals with similar type odours were given musk names, like the muskrat and musk shrew. Charlevoix’s original descriptor for the animal stuck: it became muskox in English, moskusokse in Norwegian, myskoxe in Swedish, Moschusochse in German, and stayed boeuf musqué in French.

At first appearance, asking individuals from and connected to Nunavut, an eastern Arctic jurisdiction of Canada, to contribute to a collection of polar history would seem to be a practical and straightforward request, both for the reader and for the contributors themselves. Yet, as is often the case, the reality of things is not as simple as it first appears.

As most readers are probably aware, many scholars and self-identified experts of polar history do not necessarily live in the polar regions. This is the case for Nunavut. While the contributors to this chapter are well-aware of the extensive expertise, knowledge, skills, generosity of spirit, and critical thinking that exists year-round in the communities that populate Nunavut, this knowledge has not yet found a home in the broader discipline of polar history.

Writing in 1916, shortly after his appointment as ‘Geologist in Charge of Explorations’, the celebrated Canadian geologist and explorer Charles Camsell reflected on the prospects for development in Canada’s ‘unexplored’ Arctic: ‘It is to the mining industry more than any other that we must look for co-operation and assistance in the exploration of our northern regions.’1 Camsell hailed the prospects for mining to launch the transformation of remote, sparsely populated Arctic and Northern regions into prosperous, modern Euro-Canadian settlement frontiers. Nearly forty years later, reflecting on his geological career and the surge in mineral development activity in Canada’s north in the decades around World War II, Camsell confidently concluded, ‘To my mind the whole future of the North country depends primarily upon its mineral wealth.’2 Camsell’s visions of mining’s capacity for transforming the Arctic both echoes and anticipates the ideology of ‘frontierism’ characteristic of industry boosters and state agencies around the circumpolar Arctic.

When and why did the originally tropical being, Homo sapiens, enter the circumpolar north? What attracted human societies to this part of the Earth characterized by extreme seasonal variability, long periods of darkness, rough and cold weather, barren tundra, high mountains, ice caps, and vast areas of sea ice? Through analyses of ancient material remains such as stone-built structures, artefacts and bones preserved in cultural layers on dwelling sites, Arctic archaeology provides some insights into these basic questions about the expansion of human societies into the circumpolar north and how they managed to thrive there for millennia.

This chapter turns to the comparison of cases. By analyzing the discontented cases, a clear pattern emerges. The positive cases share few characteristics save one: democratic discontent that arose when sharp economic contractions intensified the imperfections and contradictions of the political status quo. This argument is made using paired comparisons of the positive and negative cases (Canada with the USA/UK, Portugal with Spain, Uruguay with Brazil/Chile) to evaluate competing explanations. The second section of the chapter analyzes how discontent was avoided during the Great Recession by looking for shared features of the three negative cases. It finds that escaping the initial pain of a crisis was not a necessary condition for avoiding discontent. Instead, the key to maintaining democratic legitimacy lay in the political response to the crises, and in the adaptability and health of left-wing parties. In all three negative cases, center-left parties recognized crises as indictments of neoliberalism, rejected its calls for austerity. By responding to popular demands for help in difficult times, these parties deprived cultural conflicts of the oxygen needed for them to rage and avoided major upsurges of discontent.

In March 2017, the Israeli Knesset (Parliament) passed a law allowing for the denial of entry or residence to foreign nationals who support Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) against the state of Israel or its settlements.1 Proponents of BDS are part of a now global nonviolent movement of civil society (non-state) actors challenging the government of Israel’s policies towards Palestinians. Reflecting that the movement also has supporters within Israel, less than three weeks later it was revealed that Israel’s then Minister of Strategic Affairs, Gilad Erdan, also sought to expand his ministry’s collection of information on activists who support BDS to include Israeli citizens as well as foreigners.2 Governmental development of such a database on citizens was questionable both on grounds of extant Israeli law and the protection of privacy rights. However, this practice stands as a telling example of how the BDS movement has moved to the front line of Israel’s contemporary surveillance efforts.

Often depicted by historians as a ‘forgotten’ war in the United States and unwanted distraction for Britain and its empire (with the exception of Canada), the Anglo-American War of 1812 for contemporaries was a conflict with high states. For the divided United States, the war was fought for a myriad of reasons, including outrage over British impressment of American sailors and infringements free trade, fear of American Indians, and a desire to re-assert American independence and lay claim to the position of pre-eminent power in North America. While victory offered tangible and moral prizes, defeat risked the shattering of the already-frail political unity of the young republic and relegation to secondary status in North America. For the British Empire, the war meant conflict with its primary overseas trading partner, which risked economic ruin for its manufacturing and shipping industries and resulted in severe opposition in some parts of the country. Victory, however, presented the tantalizing opportunity to avenge the embarrassment of the American Revolution and reaffix the young republic to the British sphere of influence. While the conflict itself resulted in few casualties and a treaty that recognized no victor, it ultimately shaped the future of North America and the direction of the British Empire.

This chapter considers the history of serialism in the United States and Canada. After exploring US-based ultramodern composers that used series in their writing and early engagement with Schoenberg’s methods, this chapter contemplates the contexts for the significantly increased interest in serialism that occurred in these countries after the Second World War. Many factors were at play in this development, including the role of serialist giants who arrived as émigrés from Europe as teachers and role models, the influence of US-originating modernist movements, the changing university scene, and the cultural politics of the Cold War. While European serialist exiles like Schoenberg and Krenek were highly influential, this influence was not always direct. Moreover, while US composers using highly systematic approaches have drawn most attention, the majority of Americans and Canadians using serial methods combined them with other musical techniques to produce highly original, individualistic musical languages.

The 1960s were marked by wide-ranging debates about British decline, so much so that historians have identified a culture of ‘declinism’ affecting all asspects of contemporary life, from the prescriptions of economists to the activism of the (short-lived) ‘I’m Backing Britain’ movement in 1968. Though declimism principally affected the political and literary culture of England, this chapter explores how it was also reproduced in strikingly similar ways elsewhere - in Australia, New Zealand and Canada in particular - where a proclivity for diagnosing the deficiencies of nationhood became a recurring feature of the broader political culture. Yet such was the focus on national maladies that these wider commonalities and their shared sources of discontent were almost never remarked upon — even as the practitioners borrowed freely from each other’s rhetorical templates. This chapter, then, takes stock of the wider anxieties about the ‘state of the nation’ that converged around the diminished certainties of Greater Britain.

Chapter 8 is concerned with the policy community and in making recommendations at international, state, regional and local levels. The first task is to refine the results of the study, the second is to determine a set of generic observations and the third is to present country-specific recommendations. Defining a recommendation and distinguishing it from mere wish fulfilment are by no means simple tasks and some recommendations available in the literature are so general that it is difficult to interpret their meaning with any degree of precision. That is why the recommendations should be realisable. The chapters offers a suite of generic recommendations suitable for consideration in many jurisdictions before moving on to suggest very specific recommendations for each of the eight case study jurisdictions investigated. A certain reticence in acknowledging the salience of these recommendations is particularly characteristic of international migrants, refugees and what are sometime called translational workers as national and local authorities will determine that their obligation is to provide instruction in each state”s dominant language so as to enable the residents to function within the “normal” parameters of the educational, health and social services. Accordingly, while the focus of the investigation is on the reception and adoption of the new speaker concept as an element in policy formulation, the narrative also seeks to strengthen the interpretation by providing additional information on the various contexts within which the investigation was undertaken.