The “city” of Iqaluit you say?

Since 1982, we’ve called it a “town.”

Now the government of Nunavut wants to call it a “city.”

With the support of Iqaluit’s town council, the territorial government plans to change the official English word we use to describe the municipality of Iqaluit’s status. Just last week, the Department of Community Government issued a 180-day notice of the change, as required by the territorial Cities, Town’s and Villages Act.

What does it mean? Legally, very little. A change of status from “town” to “city” would allow town councillors to start calling themselves “aldermen,” a semantic distinction that is meaningless in Inuktitut, and these days almost equally meaningless in English. But that’s about it. The change would not provide Iqaluit’s municipal government with any powers or responsibilities it does not already enjoy.

Symbolically, however, the change is loaded with significance. The word “city” carries connotations of power and prestige that we do not not normally associate with the humble word “town.” Cities are independendent and ever-expanding, rivalling the power of states. Towns are modest, dependent entities, constrained by narrow boundaries. That’s why the capitals of nations, states and provinces are called “cities” not towns. They are the places where power resides, the seats of government.

So far, so good. It’s normal and natural that the capital of Nunavut should be called a “city.” But in its current state, is Iqaluit’s municipal government really worthy of the designation?

The best thing that can be said about the current Iqaluit mayor, town council and senior administration is that they have at least managed to avoid getting fired. That’s a step up from what the 1993 mayor and council accomplished during the infamous “debenture debacle.”

But the current town council, elected in the fall of 1997, and its predecessor town council, elected in the fall of 1994, have both failed to deal with the factors that lay at the roots of Iqaluit’s 1993 embarassment. Those factors are:

* weak and sometimes non-existent political leadership from the mayor and council;
* incompetent, self-serving, and sometimes deceitful performances from non-elected administrators.

On its worst days, the municipality of Iqaluit is one of Nunavut’s most dysfunctional organizations. But it doesn’t have to be that way.

First, the municipality should attach a full-time pay and benefits package to the mayor’s position. The mayor is supposed to be the senior executive officer of the municipal corporation. The mayor of a small, but rapidly growing capital city like Iqaluit should therefore be paid at least as much as a member of the legislative assembly.

This would attract better candidates for the mayor’s position at election time, and make it more attractive for educated people to talke leaves-of absence from government jobs to run for mayor of Iqaluit. The presence of a strong, well-paid, full-time mayor would, in theory at least, provide some badly needed leadership at the top.

Second, the municipality should create a ward system to strengthen ties between elected councillors and the people they represent, thereby improving accountability. Iqaluit has already been divided into three constituencies for the purpose electing members to the Nunavut legislative assembly. It should be just as easy to divide the town into four wards for the purpose of electing city councillors, each of which would elect two members to council, for a total of eight. JB