Death by Design: Food Apartheid from Nunavut to Palestine

In Nunavut, North Canada, home to the indigenous Inuit communities, 70 percent of homes face severe food insecurity in one of the richest nations in the world. A liter of milk in Nunavut costs over CΑΝ$7 and a handful of fresh vegetables costs almost CΑΝ$40. The few grocery stores scattered across the territory predominantly sell unhealthy and non-nutritious food. The remoteness of the territory requires fresh produce to be flown in due travel restrictions by boat and road. By the time fresh produce makes it to grocery store shelves, it is often expired, sold at extremely inflated prices and situated amongst multiple rows of processed foods that are considerably cheaper and higher in caloric energy. 

Territories like Nunavut are often referred to as ‘food deserts’ – places where access to affordable, healthy and nutritious food is restricted by social and geographical constraints. The term ‘food swamps’ is often used alongside this to describe areas where highly processed ‘junk’ foods are densely concentrated, namely in low-income urban neighborhoods with majority racialized or minority groups. 

While these terms certainly recognize the pressing issue of food accessibility and adequacy, they are severely ignorant and passive to the fact that these so-called ‘deserts' and ‘swamps’ are not naturally occurring phenomena, but they have emerged through a discriminatory process and deliberate government policies. 

Even so, the word ‘desert’ creates an image of desolation and emptiness. These spaces are not empty; there is huge potential for growth, nourishment and vibrancy. It is rather the obstacles of settler colonialism, white supremacy and segregation that stand in the way of food justice. So, food apartheid seems the appropriate term. 

In the U.S., the majority of farming subsidies go to white farmers. White neighborhoods have at least four times as many grocery stores as African-American neighborhoods. Housing subsidies largely go to rich, white Americans, while ‘redlining’ policies have also restricted mortgage lending to minority homebuyers, preventing those in low-income areas from moving to neighborhoods with adequate access to nutritious food. This has created the knock-on effect of ‘supermarket redlining’ as companies view wealthier neighborhoods as more profitable and safer from crime. 

As with the spatial segregation of minority and racialized communities in the US, the isolation of the indigenous Inuit communities in Canada is a product of forcible expulsion and land theft. The traditional food systems, environments and ancestral crop lands indigenous communities depended on, were destroyed by settlers. Consequently, native communities were forcibly relocated to isolated reservations, which are currently being impeded upon as well. Offshore oil exploration in the Arctic by major companies, endorsed by the Canadian authorities, threatens marine life. In 2008, seismic testing caused the death of up to 1,000 narwhals. Rising global temperatures due to climate change are also impacting the migration patterns of these marine animals, which the Inuit depend on for food.

The Navajo Nation, spanning 17 million acres and the largest reservation in the U.S., has a total of 13 grocery stores, where the average resident has to drive three hours one-way to reach a grocery store that predominantly sells processed and non-nutritious products. The USDA’s Food Distribution Programme on Indian Reservations supplies some food to indigenous communities. However, the products tend to be highly processed and have little nutritional value. Along with the few job opportunities and the rarity of affordable fresh food in indigenous reservations, this leads many to resort to cheap, unhealthy processed foods.

It does not stop there. As a result of limited access to healthy and culturally appropriate foods, health issues, in particular type 2 diabetes, are becoming increasingly prevalent in Black, Indigenous and other minority and low-income communities. On top of this, harsh discrimination and negligence within healthcare systems are a regular occurrence for these groups, and as a consequence, they experience higher fatalities and poorer overall well being. Achieving food justice and sovereignty for communities of color is more than simply living near a grocery store, but rather about having agency over their local food systems.

Similarly to Black, Indigenous and minority communities in the US and Canada, Israel’s system of apartheid has wholly denied Palestinians their right to food sovereignty. Forced displacement, land expropriation, restrictions on free movement or even access to markets have led to severe food insecurity. The control of 80 percent of West Bank water reserves is one crucial way that Israel enforces food apartheid upon Palestinians. Israeli authorities, between 2012 and 2021, demolished 572 Palestinian water structures in the West Bank. These structures are often small-scale traditional rainwater cisterns and wells. The demolition of an entire water system severely impedes the ability to cultivate land and create a sustainable food system.

Other discriminatory policies include requiring Palestinians, under military orders 1015 and 1039, to be granted permission to plant certain crops like eggplants, tomatoes, and onions. Additionally, Israeli agricultural policies enforce the use of commercial seeds in an effort to erase Palestinian agricultural heritage. The traditional Jadu’i watermelon has been lost due to this. Simply foraging for Palestinian diet staples, such as zaatar, sage and akoub, is punishable by fines and three years in prison. 

Taxing ‘legal’ requirements and restrictions are piled one on top of the other, not only creating huge economic losses but hindering even basic subsistence agriculture within Palestinian communities. In 2020, Israel rejected 73 percent of farmer permit requests to access their farmland and tend to crops. The crops that are able to grow in spite of all this, as well as the increasingly dry and scorching summers, are often ruined by Israeli military aerial spraying of herbicides. Simultaneously, cheaper, ‘second-class,’ and harmful produce is introduced by Israel into markets across the West Bank, undermining the efforts of Palestinian farmers. In 2020, 72 percent of vegetables sold to Palestinians by Israeli producers were found to contain high levels of harmful pesticides. 

The Israeli destruction of up to 1 million olive trees since 1967 and the continuous vandalism and theft of harvests defines the nature of food apartheid as the deliberate effort to occupy or erase a people and their cultural heritage, regardless of environmental damage. Israel has even banned the Union of Agricultural Work Committees, which protects traditional Palestinian heirloom seeds that have the potential to increase biodiversity and minimize the environmental impacts of farming. The examples are endless. Food apartheid is one of the most instrumental ways in which the Israeli government has been slowly starving Palestinians. There is no question that this is all by design, from every policy and legal measure to the outright destruction and expropriation of land, it is as deliberate as North America’s utilization of food apartheid against racialized communities. 

Efforts of localized agroecological organizations among these communities are growing – farmers markets, community gardens and food sharing are autonomizing marginalized populations from their oppressors. However, complete food sovereignty, the right to affordable, fresh and culturally appropriate food for African Americans, the Inuit people, Palestinians, and marginalized communities all over the world, cannot be fully achieved without recognition of their humanity first.