As the Arctic once again attracts military and economic interest, Nunavut reminds Ottawa and the world of a fundamental truth: Canadian sovereignty in the North cannot exist without the Inuit. Gathered in Iqaluit, political leaders, elders, and youth defended a vision rooted in security, culture, and infrastructure.

In a city built on permafrost, one statement rang out forcefully last week within the walls of the Aqsarniit Hotel: “No Arctic sovereignty without Inuit security.” With these words, Jeremy Tunraluk, President of Nunavut Tunngavik Inc. (NTI) ), opened the Arctic Sovereignty and Security Summit, an event that may well mark a turning point in how Canada defines its northern identity.

Co-hosted by the Government of Nunavut and NTI, the summit brought together elders, youth, military leaders, business representatives, and policymakers. But it was far from just another northern policy forum: by design and scope, it marked a true redistribution of power. For two days, Nunavummiut were not merely invited to participate; they led the conversation.

As geopolitical tensions rise and the ice melts, the Arctic is being redrawn. For Inuit leaders, asserting sovereignty is no longer about planting flags or patrolling waters, it’s about housing, language protection, and healing. “If our communities lack roads, runways, clean water or reliable communications, they are not secure,” Tunraluk said in his address, reported by Nunatsiaq News. “[…] while [our] hunters are disempowered by policy, climate change and shipping impacts, then sovereignty just becomes a word.”

A call to action

The summit’s agenda focused on five pillars: resilient communities, climate resilience, economic potential, Nunavut’s place in the circumpolar world, and Inuit perspectives on sovereignty. But beyond the themes, it was the voices who led that marked a shift: Inuit spoke first, and loudest.

Elder Larry Audlaluk of Grise Fiord recalled his forced relocation to the High Arctic in the early 1950s, a part of a government strategy to assert its presence in the North, with no regard for Inuit input. “I am happy that we survived,” he said, “but it was very, very costly.”

Youth delegate Jennifer Kilabuk was even more direct: “Canada cannot claim Arctic sovereignty while ignoring the needs of Inuit here,” she told Nunatsiaq News. She stressed that Inuit must be included in all decisions, especially regarding investments in infrastructure, youth programs, culture, and language. The message is clear: Inuit no longer want to be consulted. They want to lead.

Nation-Building Projects Still on Hold

This demand for leadership was reflected in calls to advance long-stalled infrastructure projects. Two dominated the conversation: the Grays Bay road and port, and the Kivalliq hydroelectric and fibre optic corridor. For Inuit leaders, these aren’t just projects, they are sovereignty.

Kivalliq Inuit Association President Kono Tattuinee was unequivocal: “It’s all ready, shovel-ready — we were shovel-worthy a few years back, and now we’re shovel-ready,” he said in his speech. The 1,200-kilometre corridor would phase out diesel, bring broadband, and power homes and businesses. Despite appearing in three federal budgets, the project remains stalled. “The time is now,” Tattuinee urged.

These projects could benefit from new Bill C-5, passed on the very day of the summit. The law empowers Ottawa to fast-track “national interest” projects. Whether Inuit-led visions are included remains to be seen.

A New Minister Faces an Old Challenge

Rebecca Chartrand, the newly appointed Minister of Northern and Arctic Affairs, used her first official visit to Nunavut to listen. “[…] there’s already a vision here,” she told in an interview with Nunatsiaq News. “[…] it’s my opportunity to listen and to learn and to amplify that vision.”

Welcomed with interest but caution, Chartrand discussed the much-criticized Nutrition North program. “I understand the need for Nutrition North. I also understand the concerns with Nutrition North,” she said. A program review is underway, led by former NTI President Aluki Kotierk, with results expected in 2026.

The implication was clear: listening won’t be enough. Action must follow.

Harper Returns, With Contradictions

Into this context stepped a familiar face: former Prime Minister Stephen Harper. Long criticized for a militarized view of Arctic sovereignty, he struck a more reflective tone this time.

“Canada has, compared to most other Arctic countries, an abysmal record of infrastructure development in its north,” he admitted, calling it an opportunity for change. Yet Harper still sees military spending as the primary path forward. “[…] the easiest way to develop those logistics is through military development,” he said during a discussion held at the summit, pointing to Iqaluit’s WWII-era runway.

This approach drew skepticism. For Inuit, security means food, housing, and energy, not ships and radars, although for Harper, the big projects are the ones that build a nation and leave a mark.

Still, Harper’s message resonated with some. “Use it or lose it,” his former mantra, was reframed, not as a show of force, but as a warning: without infrastructure, connection, and justice, the North will be lost not to foreign adversaries, but to southern indifference.

Beyond the speeches, the Iqaluit summit was a declaration: Inuit are leading the future of Arctic Canada. From energy to language, from climate to economy, the North has a plan. It is not asking for permission, it is offering partnership.

As the world turns its gaze northward, Nunavut has spoken. The question now is: who will liste. And who will follow?