Systemic underfunding of Indigenous women’s safety networks exposes colonial legacies and gendered violence gaps

Indigenous women’s safety is inseparable from the restoration of land-based governance and cultural practices disrupted by colonialism. Traditional knowledge systems, such as the Anishinaabe concept of *minobimaatisiiwin* (the good life), frame safety as collective flourishing rather than individual protection. However, these perspectives are systematically excluded from policy discussions, which prioritize Western legal and economic frameworks over Indigenous epistemologies.

The current crisis is a direct legacy of the 19th-century Indian Act, residential schools, and the Sixties Scoop, which severed familial and cultural ties while exposing Indigenous women to state and vigilante violence. The 1996 Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples explicitly linked underfunding of Indigenous services to the overrepresentation of Indigenous women in violence statistics. Historical parallels include the forced sterilizations of Indigenous women in Canada and the U.S., which demonstrate how state control over bodies persists under different guises.

Global Indigenous movements, from the Māori-led *Whānau Ora* model in Aotearoa to the Zapatista autonomous zones in Mexico, show that safety is achieved through land restitution and community-led justice systems. In Australia, the *Sisters in Spirit* campaign highlighted how colonial land grabs correlate with spikes in violence against Indigenous women. These examples reveal a pattern: where Indigenous governance is restored, gendered violence declines, regardless of national context.

Research from the Native Women’s Association of Canada (NWAC) and Statistics Canada confirms that Indigenous women are 12 times more likely to be murdered or missing than non-Indigenous women, with funding gaps exacerbating these risks. Studies on the *social determinants of violence* show that economic marginalization, lack of housing, and environmental degradation (e.g., resource extraction) are key drivers. However, most data collection is state-led, often excluding Indigenous methodologies and ethical frameworks.

Indigenous art and ceremony, such as the *Walking With Our Sisters* commemorative project or the *MMIWG2S* red dress installations, serve as both memorials and acts of resistance against erasure. Traditional storytelling, like the Haudenosaunee *Ganondagan* narratives, frames violence as a disruption of balance (*karihwiyo*), requiring collective healing. These creative practices are often dismissed as 'cultural' rather than recognized as critical tools for systemic transformation.

Scenario modeling by the *Yellowhead Institute* suggests that without reparative funding and land restitution, violence against Indigenous women will continue to rise alongside extractive industry expansion. Alternative futures include the full implementation of the *MMIWG2S Calls for Justice*, which require 5% of Canada’s GDP for Indigenous-led safety initiatives. Technological solutions, such as Indigenous-designed apps for reporting violence, must be paired with material resources to avoid replicating extractive surveillance models.

Indigenous women with disabilities, LGBTQ2S+ individuals, and those in remote or northern communities face compounded risks due to intersecting oppressions, yet their voices are systematically excluded from funding debates. Two-Spirit and trans Indigenous women, for example, report higher rates of violence but receive less than 1% of MMIWG-related funding. Urban Indigenous women, often overlooked in rural-focused policies, also lack access to culturally safe services, highlighting the need for intersectional approaches.