Reconsidering the Border “Czar”: Leadership, Power, and the Need for a Return to Indigenous Matriarchal Ways

When the Canadian government announces a new border “Czar” as part of its enforcement strategy, the introduction of that single word—Czar—warrants closer scrutiny. Historically, “Czar” evokes the image of an absolutist figure whose edicts flow from a centralized seat of power. Drawing upon regal and autocratic roots, the term unsettles many because it implies concentrated authority. Whether intentional or not, relying on a title so steeped in unilateral rule signals a departure from more inclusive, community-centered traditions.

This shift takes on particular weight in Canada, where Indigenous Nations hold relationships to land, water, and governance that predate the modern border. The top-down approach embedded in the notion of a “Czar” stands in stark contrast to the historically matriarchal systems that once organized countless communities on these lands. By embracing an Indigenous foundation, leaders could chart a more balanced course—one built on shared responsibility and collective voice, rather than paternalistic oversight.

Why the Word “Czar” Matters

Concentration of Power
Calling someone a “Czar” places extraordinary authority in the hands of one individual, reminiscent of monarchies and their far-reaching decrees. It projects a singular command structure in matters that profoundly affect local communities, migrants, and entire cross-border ecosystems. Such concentration often leads to decisions that prioritize national or economic directives over nuanced regional realities.
Legacy of Exclusion
The idea of a “Czar” becomes especially fraught when overlaid onto lands where Indigenous Nations were—and remain—self-governing societies. By designating a single powerful figure, the system can undermine existing community-based governance. While the stated goal may be to curb illicit activities like fentanyl trafficking, the structure itself risks sidelining local perspectives and overshadowing longstanding legal orders.
Implications for Democratic Processes
Even in a modern context, symbolic language carries tangible weight. A “Czar” implies a top-down directive rather than a collaborative policy debate. Over time, this can normalize a governance culture that values quick commands over expansive consultation. Canadians may unwittingly accept a model where the conversation revolves around border crackdowns and trade leverage, rather than shared well-being and justice for all.

The Consequences for Indigenous Governance

Overriding Local Authority
Indigenous Nations maintain deep ties across the Canada-U.S. boundary, reflecting familial, cultural, and economic relationships that long predate confederation. Appointing a centralized figure to manage border enforcement can sideline these networks. This is not merely symbolic; heightened policing, surveillance, and restricted mobility can disrupt cultural practices and family ties.
Limited Consultation and Shared Decision-Making
Indigenous communities often hold treaty-based rights, as well as distinctive legal systems that guide their governance. A “Czar”—armed with sweeping authority—could overshadow ongoing attempts to realize nation-to-nation relationships. In practice, the voices of Indigenous leaders may be reduced to peripheral input rather than treated as equal contributors in shaping border policy.
Potential for Tensions and Disruptions
While the current rationale centers on combating fentanyl, robust solutions often stem from community-based strategies that address root causes. If border enforcement ramps up under a single authority, it may escalate policing rather than promote healing, harm reduction, or restorative practices. This not only affects Indigenous governance but risks engendering broader tensions with settlers that see military-style enforcement as a short-term fix.

A Return to Matriarchal Ways

Historically, numerous Indigenous societies on these lands embraced matriarchal or matrilineal arrangements. Far from merely reversing gender roles, these systems were about shared responsibilities, respect for kinship networks, and decision-making grounded in collective well-being. Leaders in such settings often coordinated communal resources and adjudicated disputes by seeking inclusive consensus.

Collective Governance
Matriarchal traditions offered structures where leadership was dispersed rather than vested in a single individual. Resolutions to community challenges—such as resource allocation, conflict mediation, or upholding nation-to nation treaties—arose through collaborative dialogue. This balanced approach is less prone to the pitfalls of unilateral decisions that are made far away from the people most affected.
Holistic Views of Security
Security did not hinge on militarized borders but on communal responsibilities. In these systems, addressing crises involved caring for individuals within a strong social fabric. Initiatives to stem harmful activities were woven into broader goals of communal health, honoring relationships with both human and non-human communities.
Sovereignty Rooted in Kinship and Land
By centering shared obligations to future generations, matriarchal governance inherently looked toward longer-term outcomes. Instead of quick solutions that might appease external pressure, policy in these contexts would prioritize sustainability and the “seventh generation principle“.

Looking Ahead: Balancing Present Needs with Enduring Traditions

While the federal government frames a “Czar” as a necessary response to an urgent crisis, the social and political ramifications reach far beyond this immediate policy. In the short term, Canada may alleviate trade tensions and demonstrate robust action against illicit substances. However, the broader implications—particularly for Indigenous Nations—underscore the need to think more carefully about how power is distributed and who has a say in shaping public policy.

A focus on Indigenous matriarchal principles could guide Canadians and Americans toward models of governance that address the root causes of issues such as opioid trafficking and fentanyl addiction. By looking to the legacies of inclusive leadership, communal care, and multi-generational planning, both states can move beyond surface-level, top-down, short-term authoritarian-dictatorship demands and toward something longer-lasting and sustainable.

Ultimately, it is worth asking what kind of governance future we want. Concentrating power in a single figure—particularly with a title so charged—may deliver swift policy gestures, but risks entrenching a model that is disconnected from what Canadian citizens really need. Perhaps now is the moment to recall the guiding values that once shaped these lands: collective wisdom, relational accountability, and the strength that emerges when community, not empire, defines our shared path forward.