The signing of the James Bay and Northern Quebec Agreement in 1975 and the subsequent construction of the La Grande complex seemed to have sealed the fate of northern Quebec. But for the stubbornness and tenacity of the Cree and Inuit people, who refused to accept as incidental the destruction of their homelands, it is likely that the roar of bulldozers would by now have drowned out the voices of dissent. Few could have foreseen the bitterness of a fight that would spill beyond Canada into state legislatures south of the border and onto the streets of New York City.

However, much has changed since Premier Robert Bourassa observed that the rivers of northern Quebec were "wasting their way" to the sea. Despite the best efforts of politicians and Hydro-Quebec officials to exercise a virtual monopoly over research and information, the Great Whale project has emerged as a popular cause, proof that being an "environmentalist" does not require official sanction but rather genuine commitment to the principle of sustainable development.

James Bay has also helped reorder our national priorities when it comes to environmental integrity and the rights of aboriginal peoples. Megaprojects in Quebec and elsewhere have too often served as a substitute for economic diversity, but governments must come to understand the validity of Canadians' repeated assertion that economic growth at any cost is simply unacceptable. The conservation of wilderness areas and the protection of wildlife populations is no longer seen as a luxury but as a matter of survival.

At the same time, the debate over James Bay should not be misinterpreted as an attempt to hobble Quebec as it seeks to redefine its political and economic relationship with the rest of Canada. No one-not the environmental movement, not the Cree and Inuit, not the federal government- seeks to deny Quebecers the right to build for their future, but the measure of a project's worth should not be skewed by short-term exigencies or more distant visions of grandeur.

Although the Constitution Act asserts the exclusive jurisdiction of the provinces over nonrenewable resource exploration and development, including "development, conservation and management of sites and facilities in the province for the generation and production of electrical energy", it is clear as well that the federal government has a responsibility to address the extra-territorial implications of any such projects.

Great Whale cannot be viewed in isolation. The Hudson Bay/James Bay watershed extends west to the British Columbia border, north to Melville Peninsula, and south into North Dakota and Minnesota. Tampering with the flow of rivers into Hudson Bay may have untold effects upon ecosystems; on the other hand, the effect may be benign. The essential point is that questions remain unanswered. Research on the hydrology of the Hudson Bay/James Bay bioregion is woefully inadequate.

In this issue of Northern Perspectives we look beyond the headlines to examine the nature of the region which is so much the focus of attention. CARC, along with the Rawson Academy of Aquatic Science and the Environmental Committee of Sanikiluaq, has initiated the Hudson Bay/James Bay Bioregion Program to study the cumulative impacts of hydroelectric projects in Quebec, Ontario, and Manitoba. Scheduled to be launched in early 1992, the program will help foster co-operative decision making among the various stakeholders and lay the groundwork for an effective interjurisdictional management regime. Too often political grandstanding blinds us to the fact that real people live in the James Bay region, that it is first and foremost a homeland. Unheard Voices: James Bay 11 and the Women of Kujjuarapik is a report to Pauktuutit, the Inuit women's organization, by Suzanne Hawkes, a graduate of the Department of Environment and Resource Studies at the University of Waterloo and now an M. A. student at Simon Fraser University.