Three years of the Gaza genocide and the West’s moral collapse

The normalization of atrocity, failure of the “rules based” international order, and complicity of the West in Israel’s criminality reveal a deep crisis at the heart of contemporary global politics. 

By Fareed Khan  
A version of this article is available on Substack.

Tomorrow, October 7th, Israel will mark the third anniversary of the Hamas attack in 2023, and they along with their Western allies will hold ceremonies, vigils, moments of silence, and speeches to mark the sombre occasion. They will mourn 1,200 Israelis—including more than 300 killed by Israeli forces under the controversial “Hannibal Directive”—and they will do so with solemnity, candles, and carefully crafted political language about tragedy and resilience, and resisting terrorism. But nowhere on that day or the days that follow will they mourn or hold similar ceremonies for the 80,000 to 100,000 Palestinians murdered since October 2023. They will not acknowledge that Israel’s response was not self‑defence but a campaign of mass killing, mass starvation, and mass destruction that the world’s leading human rights institutions, Holocaust scholars, and international legal bodies have labeled as genocide.

This silence will not be accidental, just as it was not accidental on the first or second anniversaries of the October 7 attack—moments when Western leaders mourned Israeli lives with solemn ceremony while ignoring the staggering Palestinian death toll, which had already reached approximately 50,000 in 2024 and then 74,000 in 2025. The refusal to acknowledge Palestinian suffering has become a defining feature of Western political culture. It is not a lapse or an oversight, it is the predictable outcome of a decades‑long collapse of Western moral authority. Year after year, Western governments have demonstrated that their professed commitment to human rights is shallow, conditional and deeply racialized. Their silence in the face of mass murder by Israel reflects a deeply embedded structural racism and bigotry toward Palestinians, a belief—often unspoken but consistently acted upon—that Palestinian lives are less valuable, less grievable, and less worthy of protection. This prejudice has shaped foreign policy, media narratives, and public discourse, creating an environment in which atrocities committed by Israel are tolerated, rationalized, or simply ignored.

The genocide in Gaza has stripped away whatever remained of the West’s moral façade. It has exposed Western human rights rhetoric as performative, its commitment to international law as meaningless, and its political leadership as morally bankrupt. The same governments that invoke international law to condemn Russia or China for their human rights abuses have spent years shielding Israel from accountability, supplying it with weapons, providing it with diplomatic cover over the decades, and especially since October 2023, as tens of thousands of Palestinians—mostly children and women—were killed, starved, displaced, and buried beneath the rubble of their own homes. The same leaders who speak of a “rules‑based international order” have watched genocide unfold in real time and chosen complicity over courage or basic humanity, in effect endorsing Israeli criminality.

The meaning of “standing with Israel”

And this endorsement is precisely what is meant when Western leaders declare that they “stand with Israel.” When they use those words they are not making an abstract geopolitical statement. They are validating a record of Israel’s genocidal acts extensively documented by the UN Independent International Commission of Inquiry on the Occupied Palestinian Territory, Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, B’Tselem, Physicians for Human Rights Israel, Oxfam, Save the Children, the International Federation for Human Rights, and the International Association of Genocide Scholars.

By “standing with Israel” they are endorsing the killing of children and babies, and the bombing of hospitals, schools, refugee camps, and UN shelters. They are supporting the starvation of more than two million people, alongside the destruction of universities, mosques, churches, and cemeteries. They are saying they have no issue with the execution of civilians, the torture of detainees, and the burning of families in tents. They are sanctioning the assassination of journalists, the deliberate targeting of aid workers, and the systematic destruction of civilian infrastructure. And they are endorsing the use of dehumanizing rhetoric that meets the legal definition of genocidal intent.

These are not unverified allegations. They are documented facts.

When someone says they “stand with Israel,” they are standing with a state whose actions have been identified as genocidal by leading Holocaust and Jewish genocide scholars, including noted Jewish academics Omer Bartov, Amos Goldberg, Daniel Blatman, Raz Segal, Shmuel Lederman, Marion Kaplan, and Barry Trachtenberg. They are standing with a state whose leaders have repeatedly incited genocide by declaring their intent to “erase” Gaza, “eliminate” Palestinians, and “destroy” entire neighborhoods since atrocities began in 2023. They are standing with a state whose military has killed almost eight times more women and children in Gaza  than the Russians have killed in Ukraine since February 2022, with one estimate based on calculations by Ben Gurion University academic Yaakov Garb putting the number of women and children killed closer to 190,000.

The banality of atrocity

Jewish political philosopher Hannah Arendt warned that evil becomes most dangerous not when it is committed by obvious fanatics, but when it is normalized—when it is carried out by ordinary people performing routine tasks, following procedures, and obeying orders without moral reflection. The genocide in Gaza has made her insight painfully and unmistakably relevant. What is unfolding is not only the visible brutality of bombs and bullets, but the vast, bureaucratic machinery that makes such brutality possible—the drafting of military orders, the logistical planning that determines which neighborhoods will be razed, the procurement and manufacture of weapons, the equipping of Israeli jets with missiles and bombs, the intelligence gathered and relayed to troops on the ground, the administrative systems that coordinate troop movements, fuel supplies, targeting protocols, and paying the soldiers and pilots committing mass murder. All of these seemingly mundane actions—performed by soldiers, analysts, engineers, administrators, and political officials—are integral components of Israel’s machinery of genocide.

This is precisely what Arendt meant by the “banality of evil”—the way mass atrocity becomes operational through ordinary tasks carried out by individuals who see themselves as neutral professionals simply doing their jobs. And it is why the parallel to the Nazi Holocaust machine is not rhetorical but structural. The genocide of European Jews was not carried out only by the men who pulled triggers or opened the doors of gas chambers. It depended on the clerks who processed transport lists, the railway workers who scheduled trains to the concentration and death camps, the engineers who designed the crematoria, the bureaucrats who coordinated deportations, and the administrators who ensured that every logistical detail was executed with precision. In Gaza today, the same logic is at work, not with death factories but with a military apparatus that is a mobile death factory. The genocide happens not when someone from a targeted group is deliberately killed, it is in the entire system that makes genocidal crimes possible, efficient, and sustained.

Arendt’s warning becomes even more chilling when we look beyond the machinery of genocide itself and confront the society that enables it. Bureaucratic systems do not operate in a vacuum. They require a public willing to tolerate, rationalize, or even celebrate the suffering of another people. The normalization of atrocity depends on a moral environment in which cruelty is not merely permitted but justified, defended, and woven into national identity. In Israel today, that environment is not marginal—it is mainstream.

This reality was laid bare in a June 2025 Haaretz poll that revealed the depth of the moral collapse inside Israeli society. Nearly half of Israeli Jews—47%—expressed support for exterminating all Palestinians in Gaza “down to the last child,” a phrase that evokes the most explicit form of genocidal intent. An even larger majority—82%—supported the complete ethnic cleansing of Palestinians from Gaza, endorsing the removal of an entire population from its homeland. And 56% supported ethnically cleansing all Palestinians from territories under Israeli control, effectively erasing Palestinian presence from the lands of historic Palestine altogether.

These are not fringe opinions held by extremists on the margins of Israeli society. They are mainstream political preferences, expressed openly and without shame, in a society shaped by decades of racist indoctrination, occupation, settlement expansion, militarization, and dehumanizing rhetoric. They reflect a worldview in which Israelis do not see Palestinians as human beings with rights, families, histories, or futures, but as obstacles to be removed, threats to be neutralized, or demographic problems to be solved. They reveal a society in which the machinery of genocide does not operate against the grain of public sentiment—it operates with its consent, and is fully embraced by and overwhelming majority of Israeli Jews.

And it is precisely this convergence—between bureaucratic efficiency and popular endorsement—that makes Arendt’s insight so painfully relevant today. The genocide in Gaza is not only the work of generals, politicians, and military planners. It is the product of a society that has been conditioned, over generations, to see domination over Palestinians as security, Jewish supremacy as identity, and Palestinian death as an acceptable, even necessary, feature of existence.

This normalization of unreserved cruelty is mirrored in Western political classes, media institutions, and corporate elites. The speed with which Western leaders transformed the October 7th Hamas attack into a license for genocide—ignoring decades of Israel’s brutal occupation, blockade, and mass killing—revealed a deeper structural prejudice. Palestinian suffering was stripped of context, history, and humanity. Western leaders demanded that audiences accept a fiction that the “conflict” began on October 7th, and that Israel’s actions were legitimate self‑defence rather than revenge or collective punishment.

This framing immediately foreclosed any serious moral inquiry into why a people subjected to decades of military occupation, siege, dispossession, and systematic denial of political rights might ultimately resort to violent resistance. By presenting the events of October 7th as if they occurred in a historical vacuum, Western leaders erased the long record of blocked diplomatic pathways, shattered peace processes, and deliberate prevention of Palestinian statehood. They refused to acknowledge that a population brutalized for generations, deprived of freedom, dignity, the means to shape its own future, and subjected to the longest and most brutal occupation in modern history, may reach a point where violent resistance—however tragic in its results—becomes the only remaining expression of political agency. In doing so, Western political leaders and news media transformed a complex history of oppression into a simplistic morality tale that absolved Israel of responsibility and cast Palestinians as inexplicable aggressors rather than a people responding to conditions no society could endure indefinitely.

This narrative collapse allowed Western governments to ignore proportionality, international law, and the ethical distinction between legitimate self‑defence and mass atrocity. It enabled them to treat Palestinian deaths as unfortunate but acceptable, a grim arithmetic in which erasing tens of thousands of civilian lives could be rationalized. This moral calculus echoes the ambivalence Western nations showed toward Jews fleeing Nazi Germany in the 1930s—an era when political convenience, racial prejudice, and geopolitical interests outweighed the imperative to protect human life. Today, the same dynamic is at work, and Palestinian suffering is acknowledged only insofar as it does not disrupt Western alliances, strategic priorities, or domestic political narratives.

The collapse of the post‑war human rights system

The post‑World War II human rights system—built on the ashes of Auschwitz, Treblinka, Nanjing, and Hiroshima—was designed to prevent states from committing mass atrocities with impunity. The UN Charter (1945), the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (1948), the Genocide Convention (1948), and the Geneva Conventions (1949) were meant to restrain state violence and protect vulnerable populations.

What the Gaza genocide has revealed is that Western powers—the very architects of the post‑war order—no longer believe in the principles they created. They have abandoned the Genocide Convention’s obligation to prevent and punish genocide. They have ignored and failed to enforce the International Court of Justice’s (ICJ) provisional measures ordering Israel to prevent genocide in Gaza. They have dismissed the findings of the UN Special Rapporteur, the UN Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights, and the UN Independent Commission of Inquiry’s that Israel is committing genocide.

Instead, over the past three years they have armed Israel, funded Israel, and provided diplomatic cover for a genocidal state. They have shielded Israel from accountability at the UN Security Council. They have attacked and even jailed human rights advocates who have spoken out in defence of Palestinian rights. They have refused to join South Africa’s genocide case at the ICJ, and in the case of Canada and the US attacked that nation for launching the case. And they have continued business as usual with Israel while Gaza has been turned into a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

This selective application of international law exposes the racial, religious and geopolitical biases at the core of the so‑called “rules‑based order.” It reveals that Western governments do not oppose genocide as a principle—they oppose genocide only when committed by their enemies. When committed by an ally, they tolerate it, excuse it, and enable it.

Canada’s moral collapse

Canada’s response to the Gaza genocide has been a case study in moral collapse. Despite repeatedly claiming to champion human rights and the rule of law, the Canadian government has continued selling weapons and weapons components to Israel—despite a parliamentary resolution calling for a halt to such sales—even as the death toll in Gaza climbed into the tens of thousands. It has provided diplomatic cover for Israeli actions at the United Nations, has refused to impose sanctions on Israel’s top tier of political and military leadership for grave breaches of international law and crimes against humanity, choosing instead to maintain normal relations with officials implicated in mass atrocities. Canada has also opposed or undermined investigations by the International Criminal Court and the ICJ into Israeli crimes, dismissing or downplaying the findings of genocide scholars, human rights organizations, and UN bodies that have documented the scale and intent of Israel’s atrocities against Palestinians.

Perhaps most egregiously, the Canada’s government under Mark Carney allowed Benjamin Netanyahu’s official aircraft to pass through Canadian airspace on six separate occasions while he traveled to New York City, despite publicly claiming that it was committed to enforcing ICC arrest warrants. This contradiction—professing support for international justice while quietly facilitating the travel of an individual facing allegations of war crimes and crimes against humanity—captures the profound moral hypocrisy of Canada’s position.

Canada’s record on genocide is one of consistent failure. It failed to act during the Rwandan genocide and Balkans genocide in the 1990s, the Darfur genocide in the 2000s, the Rohingya genocide, and the Uyghur genocide in the 2010s. And now it is failing again in Gaza. Each of these failures reveals a pattern. Canada expresses concern, issues statements, and invokes the language of human rights, but when confronted with the need for concrete action, it retreats into political expediency with its leaders behaving like cowards.

Western media and the Palestinian exception

Western media has also played a central role in enabling—and manufacturing public consent for—the Gaza genocide. The “Palestinian exception,” the systematic marginalization of Palestinian suffering, has shaped public perception for decades. Studies by The Intercept, Fairness and Accuracy In Reporting, and the Muslim Council of Britain’s Centre for Media Monitoring show a consistent pattern—Israeli deaths are described with emotive, humanizing language, while Palestinian deaths are reported in clinical, detached terms that strip away context and empathy. Coverage routinely erases the reality of occupation and brutality, presenting violence as if it occurs in a vacuum rather than within a decades‑long system of military domination.

Israeli government narratives are frequently amplified without verification, even when later proven to be propaganda, while Israeli crimes against Palestinians are downplayed, softened, or ignored altogether. Palestinian voices receive only a fraction of the airtime or column space afforded to Israeli officials, reinforcing a hierarchy of whose suffering matters and whose does not. Palestinian resistance is almost reflexively framed as terrorism, while Israeli state violence—no matter how indiscriminate or devastating—is framed as “self‑defence.” This asymmetry is not accidental, it is structural, embedded in editorial decisions, racist newsroom culture, and the geopolitical assumptions that shape Western journalism.

The result is a media landscape that mirrors the same tactics used by Nazi Germany to dehumanize Jews, the Roma, and other targeted populations. By consistently portraying Palestinians as either faceless victims or violent aggressors, and by sanitizing or obscuring the scale of Israeli violence, Western media desensitizes audiences to Palestinian suffering and normalizes their mass murder. It creates a moral distance that allows genocide to unfold in real time while much of the world watches passively, conditioned to see Palestinian death as inevitable, justified, or simply unworthy of outrage.

As we mark the beginning of the fourth year of genocide in Gaza, the collapse of Western moral authority, normalization of atrocity, failure of the post‑war human rights system, and complicity of Western nations in Israel’s criminality reveal a deeper crisis at the heart of contemporary global politics. What is unfolding in Gaza is not an isolated event, but the culmination of long‑standing ideological currents, historical injustices, and entrenched systems of supremacy that have shaped the international order.

To understand how a genocide of this scale became possible—and why so many powerful nations have enabled it—we must confront the deeper ideological foundations of Israel’s actions, the historical arc of Palestinian dispossession, and the structural parallels between Zionism and other supremacist movements. Only by doing this can we grasp the full magnitude of the injustice unfolding today and accept that nothing less than a fundamental transformation of international politics and the world’s moral conscience is what is required to bring justice to the most persecuted and oppressed minority in the world today.

© 2026 The View From Here. © 2026 Fareed Khan. All Rights Reserved.

Mark Carney has done nothing to be eligible for the Nobel Peace Prize

The Nobel Peace Prize is meant to reward those who defend human rights or build peace. Carney’s record on Palestine and the Gaza genocide alone should immediately disqualify him.  

By Fareed Khan

A version of this article is available on Substack.  

In recent months, a curious narrative has taken shape in international media. Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney is being promoted as a plausible contender for the 2026 Nobel Peace Prize. His name has appeared in speculative lists, with prediction markets briefly pushing him into the top tier of likely recipients, and commentators have framed him as a stabilizing force in a world destabilized by Donald Trump’s destructive foreign and economic policies. Carney’s January speech at Davos, where he urged “middle powers” to defend multilateralism and resist Trump’s coercive tactics, was widely praised in Western policy circles. But praise for a speech, no matter how consequential, has nothing to do with building peace. And the idea that Carney should be considered for the world’s most prestigious peace award is not merely misguided—it is symptomatic of a Nobel Committee that has lost its sense of purpose.

The Nobel Peace Prize was once reserved for individuals whose actions demonstrably prevented war, protected vulnerable populations, reshaped the moral landscape of global politics, or achieved real peace. Lester Pearson’s 1957 award—earned for creating the UN peacekeeping force that defused the Suez Crisis and prevented a potential nuclear confrontation between the United States and Soviet Union is the archetype of who should be awarded the prize. Pearson’s achievement was concrete, measurable, and historically consequential. Carney’s record, by contrast, is a patchwork of speeches, diplomatic positioning, meetings with leaders at international forums, and political theatrics that have produced no meaningful contribution to peace.

The Nobel Peace Prize’s drift into symbolism

To understand why Carney’s consideration for the prize is so troubling, one must first acknowledge the long‑running crisis of credibility facing the Nobel Committee. Over the past quarter century, the award has increasingly been given not for results achieved, but for aspirations. Barack Obama’s 2009 prize remains the most notorious example, awarded less than a year into his presidency, before he had achieved anything of substance in the realm of peace or diplomacy. Obama himself admitted he did not deserve it. Yet the Nobel Committee insisted on rewarding “hope,” “promise,” and “potential”—concepts that have no place in a prize meant to honour concrete achievements.

This drift did not begin with Obama, nor did it end with him. The United Nations received the prize in 2001 for “building a more peaceful world,” despite its inability to prevent dozens of wars since its creation which have destabilized regions around the world. The International Atomic Energy Agency won in 2005 for preventing nuclear proliferation, even though France, China, Israel, India, Pakistan, North Korea, and South Africa all developed nuclear arsenals under its watch (with South Africa giving up theirs in 1991). The European Union received the prize in 2012 for advancing peace and reconciliation, despite its role in imposing austerity policies that destabilized Southern Europe and fuelled political extremism. Other awards—to the International Campaign to Abolish Nuclear Weapons (2017), the 2018 laureates fighting sexual violence, and the World Food Programme (2020)—were given not for ending war, but for trying hard. But trying hard is not peace.

The Nobel Committee has increasingly treated the Peace Prize like a participation trophy, rewarding effort, symbolism, and political messaging rather than measurable outcomes. If Carney receives the 2026 prize, it will be yet another confirmation that the award has become detached from the realities of global conflict and human suffering.

Carney’s “achievements” are optics without substance

Carney’s supporters argue that he has become a global voice for stability, multilateralism, and resistance to Donald Trump’s destabilizing policies. They point to his Davos speech, his rising popularity in Europe, and his role in pushing Canada toward becoming the EU’s first “associate member.” They highlight his inclusion on Time’s list of the 100 most influential people of 2026 and his reputation as a “middle‑power leader” who did not blink in the face of American pressure.  But none of this constitutes peacebuilding.

Carney’s Davos speech was an appeal for economic cooperation and trade and political stability. It was not a call for demilitarization, conflict resolution, or protecting human rights. It was a speech about economies and markets, not morality. Canada’s trade war with the United States is not peace work, it is economic brinkmanship Carney was forced to deal with in response to Trump’s trade war. His efforts to build alliances with Europe and other nations around the world are not peace initiatives, they are geopolitical positioning. His rising profile is the result of political theatre amplified by media outlets hungry for a Western leader who can stand up to Trump.

Prediction markets reflect this reality. They are driven by a gambling mindset, media buzz, and political narratives—not insider knowledge of the Nobel Committee’s deliberations. Carney’s brief appearance at the top of the odds board was a reflection of public fascination, not any substantive achievements on his part.

Carney’s record on Palestine is a moral failure

If the Nobel Peace Prize is meant to reward those who defend human rights or build peace, Carney’s record on Palestine and the Gaza genocide alone should immediately disqualify him.

Throughout Israel’s ongoing assault on Gaza—which numerous human rights organizations and legal scholars have described as genocide—Carney has consistently refused to condemn Israel’s actions. Like Justin Trudeau before him, he will not even utter the word “genocide” to describe the scale of Israeli atrocities. At the same time, his government has continued exporting Canadian‑made weapons to Israel despite a House of Commons resolution passed in March 2024 calling for an immediate halt to arms sales. Under Carney’s leadership, Canada has also maintained full trade relations with Israel and provided diplomatic cover for policies that plainly violate international law. These are not the actions of a peacebuilder. They are the choices of a leader who places geopolitical alliances above human life.

Additionally, in a 2025 interview with CNN’s Christiane Amanpour, Carney stated that Palestinians could have a state only if it were a “Zionist Palestinian State”—a phrase that effectively demands that Palestinians adopt the ideology of their oppressor as a condition for sovereignty. These are words that send a message of moral capitulation not diplomacy.

In September 2025, Carney announced that Canada would recognize a Palestinian state, but only under conditions that mirrored Israeli demands. His recognition was not an act of support for Palestinian statehood but rather a mostly meaningless act designed to address public criticism at home and appease Western allies while avoiding any meaningful confrontation with Israel over the atrocities it has been committing for three years.

A man who refuses to condemn genocide, who continues to arm a genocidal state, and who demands that an oppressed people adopt the ideology of their oppressor in order to gain support for their sovereign ambitions has no business even being considered for a peace prize.

The Nobel Committee’s irrelevance

If the Nobel Committee awards Carney the 2026 Peace Prize, it will confirm what critics have argued for years—that the prize has become detached from the realities of global conflict and human suffering. It has become a tool for Western political messaging, a way to reward those who maintain the global status quo rather than those who challenge it.

Carney’s nomination if it exists at all, since the Nobel shortlist is secret and prediction markets are purely speculative, is rooted in optics, not substance. He is potentially being rewarded for standing up to Trump, not for advancing peace, celebrated for speeches not for actions. He is being elevated by Western elites who mistake efforts towards political and economic stability for moral leadership.

The Nobel Peace Prize should honour those who confront injustice, defend human rights, and prevent violence. Carney has done none of these things.

The fact is that Carney has no business receiving the Nobel Peace Prize, let alone being nominated for it. He has done nothing of substance to advance peace, protect vulnerable populations, or confront global injustices. His record with regard to the oppression and suffering of Palestinians is a moral stain, his rise in prediction markets is a media phenomenon, and his Davos speech, while notable, was political posturing.

If he has been nominated and the Nobel Committee awards him the prize, it will be yet another sign that the Peace Prize has lost its meaning. It will confirm that the award has become a symbol of Western self‑congratulation rather than a recognition of genuine moral courage.

The Nobel Peace Prize should honor those who change the world. Carney has been around long enough to initiate changes to the global order and encourage other middle powers to do the same. But none of them have anything to do with building peace or defending the rights of the persecuted or oppressed.

© 2026 The View From Here. © 2026 Fareed Khan. All Rights Reserved.

National Post called for violence against NDP leader Avi Lewis, yet there’s silence from Canada’s media and political class

A columnist who calls for “forceful” action against a political leader because he disagrees with his politics should face consequences.  A newspaper that publishes such rhetoric should be legally sanctioned.  

By Fareed Khan
A version of this article can be found on Substack.

The National Post has long been hostile to progressive politics, but its recent publication of Yoni Goldstein’s column targeting NDP Leader Avi Lewis marks a dangerous escalation — one that crosses from ideological disagreement into the realm of violeny political incitement. Goldstein’s piece does not merely criticize Lewis’s views on Israel’s genocide in Gaza. It invokes Jewish religious law, extremist terminology, and historical precedents for communal punishment to argue that Canadian Jews are “duty-bound” to take “forceful” action against a sitting federal party leader.

This is not ordinary political commentary, it is an incitement to violence — echoing the rhetoric long used by extremists who have carried out political attacks. Equally disturbing is the silence from Canada’s other national party leaders, the broader political class, and mainstream media, whose refusal to condemn the column is as alarming as the threat itself.

Weaponizing religious law to silence a political leader

Goldstein’s column frames Avi Lewis — a Jewish Canadian — as a threat to the Jewish community because he publicly acknowledged that Jews, collectively, had not done enough to stop Israel’s ongoing genocide in Gaza. Lewis’s Yom Kippur reflection was sober, moral, and grounded in Jewish tradition when he posted on social media, “This year I’m reflecting on the fact that we failed to do our part to stop an ongoing genocide committed in our name.”¹

Goldstein responded by invoking the biblical story of Korah — a dissenter swallowed alive by the earth and burned by divine fire — as a model for how Jews should treat Lewis. He then cites Leviticus, medieval rabbinical rulings, and extremist-coded terms like moser and rodef, labels historically used to justify violence against Jews deemed traitors to the community.

These are not neutral religious concepts. They were used by Jewish extremists to justify the assassination of Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin in 1995.

Goldstein knows this, but he uses them anyway.

When a columnist in a national newspaper uses language historically associated with political murder, the intent is unmistakable — to mark a political leader as a legitimate target for “forceful” communal action.

If a Muslim had written this, Canada would be in an uproar

Imagine, for a moment, a Muslim columnist writing in a major Canadian newspaper that Sharia law instructs Muslims on how to “deal with” Pierre Poilievre — and then invokes religious punishments, historical precedents, and extremist-coded terms used by jihadist groups. Imagine that columnist suggesting that Muslims are “duty-bound” to take “forceful” action to stop Poilievre from saying or doing things that harm Canadian Muslims. The reaction would be instantaneous and explosive. Right‑wing media would erupt in outrage.  Politicians would demand investigations.  Police would open a file within hours of the column being published.  The columnist would be fired, denounced, and likely charged with incitement to violence.

As scholar Kjell Anderson noted in a social media post, “Imagine an op-ed titled ‘Sharia Law Tells Us How to Deal with Poilievre.’ . . . Unacceptable rhetoric.”

But because Goldstein is a right‑wing Jewish columnist writing in an American‑owned conservative media chain, the reaction has been silence — or worse, deliberate misrepresentation of Lewis’s Yom Kippur message to justify the attack.

A threat against one is a threat against all

Canada’s political leaders — Liberal, Conservative, Bloc — have said nothing since the column was published.  Corporate media has said nothing.  Only NDP voices have condemned the column.  This silence is not merely cowardice, it is dangerous.

A threat against one politician is a threat against the entire political class. When a columnist openly calls for “forceful” action against a federal party leader, using extremist religious terminology historically associated with political assassination, and faces no consequences, it signals to every would‑be extremist that political violence is permissible — even respectable — if framed as “community protection.”

This is how democracies slide toward fascism: not through sudden coups, but through incremental normalization of political intimidation.

The column fits a pattern of right‑wing political violence

Goldstein’s rhetoric is not an isolated incident. It fits a historical pattern in which most political violence is overwhelmingly committed by extremists on the right. Since 2001 over 75% of the extremist violence in the United States has been committed by right wing actors.

Canada’s recent history reflects a similar pattern of right‑wing political violence. In 2017, a white nationalist murdered six Muslim men in the Quebec City mosque massacre after being radicalized online. Four years later, in London, Ontario, three generations of a Muslim family were killed by a man who aligned with far-right and white supremacist ideology. And most recently, the Belleville synagogue shooting — carried out by a white man who is an anti‑vaccine extremist — was cynically weaponized by Goldstein to smear Avi Lewis, despite the perpetrator having nothing to do with the Palestinian movement or the Gaza genocide.

In each case, the perpetrators were driven by right‑wing conspiratorial thinking, racism and bigotry. Goldstein’s column uses the same logic — identify an internal enemy, dehumanize them, and justify “forceful” action to silence them.

This is the language of fascism.

The National Post has crossed a red line

Former NDP MP Charlie Angus, who himself faced religious threats when he supported same‑sex marriage, recognized the danger immediately. In response to the National Post column he wrote, “The threat against Mr. Lewis goes far beyond the bounds of any justifiable rhetoric. It is hate speech, and it is dangerously threatening.”

He is right. Goldstein’s column is not merely offensive. It is a call for communal aggression a political leader. It is an endorsement of political violence. It is an attempt to silence democratic debate through intimidation, and it is being normalized by silence.

Canada is not a theocracy, nor a state where religious law determines political legitimacy.  Canada is not a place where dissenters should fear communal punishment for speaking out against genocide. But Goldstein’s column — and the National Post’s decision to publish it — pushes Canada closer to a political culture where violence becomes an acceptable tool of ideological political enforcement.

This is how fascism grows. Not through mass rallies, but through the quiet acceptance of threats against political opponents, through the normalization of extremist rhetoric.

Avi Lewis spoke the truth, and was targeted for it

Lewis’s Yom Kippur reflection was not hateful. It was honest. It acknowledged that Jews, collectively, had not done enough to stop Israel’s genocide in Gaza — a genocide documented by human rights organizations, UN experts, and international legal scholars. For this moral clarity, he was tagged with the slurs a “moser”, a “rodef”, and compared to a biblical dissenter whose punishment was to be swallowed alive by the earth.

Goldstein’s message is clear.  Opposing genocide makes you a traitor and a threat to Jews, and ultimately a target for retribution for taking a moral stance on genocide. This is the logic of fascism.

A columnist who calls for “forceful” action against a political leader because he disagrees with his politics should face consequences.  A newspaper that publishes such rhetoric should be legally sanctioned.  A political class that ignores such threats is complicit in their normalization.

Goldstein’s column warrants condemnation, retraction, and a criminal investigation for promoting political violence, and if the legal threshold is met, charges for incitement or terrorism‑related offences

Canada must draw a line. If it does not, the next act of political violence will not be a surprise — it will be the predictable outcome of a culture that tolerated threats against a national party leader.

© 2026 The View From Here. © 2026 Fareed Khan. All Rights Reserved.

By declaring that anti-Zionism is antisemitism, Mark Carney is criminalizing those protesting the Gaza genocide

Canada’s criminalization of anti-Zionism is an act of political obedience to Israel — a nation with a decades-long history of violating international laws and the basic tenets of humanity.
 
By Fareed Khan
A version of this article is available on Substack.

Last week, the Canadian government quietly crossed a political and moral Rubicon. In its latest report on antisemitism, Public Safety Canada explicitly declared that anti‑Zionism is a form of antisemitism. With one sentence, the Mark Carney government told millions of Canadians — Palestinians, Jews, Muslims, Christians, human rights advocates, academics, and ordinary citizens — that their opposition to Israel’s three‑year‑long genocide in Gaza is not political speech, but criminalized hate.

This is not simply a dispute about the definition of a word or phrase. It is a state‑engineered distortion with profound consequences that will endanger people. By equating anti‑Zionism with antisemitism, the federal government is doing three things simultaneously:

• Criminalizing legitimate political criticism of a foreign state;
  
• Demonstrating ideological obedience to the Israeli government; and
  
• Making life more dangerous for Jews in Canada by erasing the distinction between a political ideology and Jewish identity.

This is not exaggeration. It is a sober assessment of what will happen as a government transforms legitimate political critique into racial hatred — and does so in the middle of an internationally documented genocide which is now entering its fourth year.

Anti‑Zionism is not hatred of Jews

Zionism is a supremacist political ideology developed in the late 19th century — roughly 125 years old — advocating for the ethnic cleansing of historic Palestine in order to create a Jewish state. Like any political ideology, it is subject to debate, criticism, and rejection. Anti‑Zionism is precisely that — opposition to a political ideology not hostility toward a people.

To oppose Zionism is no different than opposing communism, fascism, white supremacy, or any other ethno‑nationalist ideology. Political ideologies are not sacred, and they are not immune from critique.

Jewish scholars, rabbis, and activists have said this for decades. In the present day groups like Jewish Voice for Peace, Independent Jewish Voices Canada, and countless academics have repeatedly affirmed that anti‑Zionism is not antisemitism, and that conflating the two is both intellectually dishonest and politically dangerous. 

Historically, some of the most influential Jewish thinkers, writers, rabbis, Holocaust survivors, and resistance fighters have opposed Zionism. Their objections were not rooted in self‑hatred or denial of Jewish identity, but in a profound ethical conviction that nationalism built on exclusion, displacement, or religious exceptionalism would endanger both Jews and Palestinians. Sigmund Freud condemned the “baseless fanaticism” driving Zionist claims in Palestine; Albert Einstein rejected the very idea of a Jewish state; Erich Fromm argued that ancient territorial claims could never justify modern political sovereignty; Primo Levi warned that similar to Nazi attitudes towards Jews, Israel was creating its own oppressed class in Palestinians; Marek Edelman, hero of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, wrote directly to Palestinian resistance fighters in solidarity; and political philosopher Hannah Arendt cautioned that Zionism relied on antisemitism as its political engine. These were not marginal voices — they were among the most important Jewish intellectuals of the 20th  century, united in their belief that Zionism was a political ideology, not a religious destiny, and that its implementation would produce endless violence.

Their warnings continued into the modern era. I.F. Stone argued that Israel’s ethnonationalism created “moral schizophrenia” for Jews worldwide; Noam Chomsky described Israel’s occupation as worse than apartheid; Isaac Asimov rejected Zionism as a form of ethnic exceptionalism; and British actress Miriam Margolyes, Israeli activist Uri Avnery, American historian Gabriel Kolko, and Rabbi Michael Lerner all publicly denounced Zionism or Israel’s policies as morally indefensible. These figures demonstrated a simple truth: Zionism has always been outside of Judaism and was a danger to Jewish safety.

Even the Israeli government itself acknowledges that Zionism is a political ideology — not a religious identity — when it describes Israel as a “Jewish and democratic state” founded on Zionist principles. If Zionism is a political ideology, then opposing it is political speech. Full stop.

Canada is doing Israel’s bidding

One thing must be clearly understood. This redefinition did not emerge organically from Canadian civil society. It is the result of years of lobbying by agents of the Israeli government whose efforts have resulted in the Canadian government mirroring Israel’s long‑standing strategy of weaponizing accusations of antisemitism to silence criticism of its policies, especially its brutal decades-long oppression of Palestinians.

The International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) definition of antisemitism — aggressively promoted by Israel and its lobby organizations in the West — has been widely criticized by scholars, civil liberties groups, and even the definition’s own drafters for chilling free expression and conflating political critique with hate speech.

Public Safety Canada’s adoption of the most extreme interpretation of IHRA is not a neutral act. It is an act of political obedience to a foreign power that has a decades-long history of violating international laws and the basic tenets of humanity. It is the Canadian government aligning itself with the Israeli government’s propaganda framework at the precise moment Israel is committing mass atrocities documented by the United Nations, and confirmed by Amnesty International; Human Rights Watch; Israeli human rights group B’Tselem; Physicians for Human Rights Israel; Doctors Without Borders; Oxfam; Save the Children; the International Federation of Human Rights; the International Association of Genocide Scholars; leading Israeli Holocaust scholars Omer Bartov, Amos Goldberg, Daniel Blatman, Raz Segal, and Shmuel Lederman; as well as the 30 nations supporting South Africa’s genocide case against Israel at the International Court of Justice.

When a government adopts the ideological framing of a foreign state and uses it to police domestic political dissent, it ceases to be an independent actor. It becomes a vassal — a subordinate power executing the political will of another nation.

That is what the Carney government has done.

Redefinition makes life more dangerous for Jews

Conflating anti‑Zionism with antisemitism does not protect Jewish Canadians. It endangers them.

Real antisemitism — the kind that fuels white supremacist violence, neo‑Nazi organizing, and far‑right extremism — is rising across North America. Jewish communities need clarity, precision, and vigilance to confront this threat. But when the government declares that opposing a political ideology is equivalent to hating Jews, it blurs the line between legitimate political critique and actual antisemitism. This confusion makes it harder to identify real threats, and reinforces the dangerous lie that all Jews are responsible for Israel’s actions — a core antisemitic trope.

Progressive Jewish organizations have warned repeatedly that weaponizing antisemitism for political ends increases hostility toward Jews by making them appear as agents of a foreign government. By adopting Israel’s preferred framing, the Canadian government has made Jewish Canadians less safe, not more.

Criminalizing anti‑Zionism criminalizes criticism of Israel

Israel is a state founded on Zionist ideology, something the it’s government has proclaimed for years. If anti‑Zionism is antisemitism, then criticizing Israel’s policies — its military actions, its occupation, its apartheid system, its brutality towards Palestinians — becomes suspect, and potentially criminal. This is not theoretical. Public Safety Canada’s report is intended to shape policing, surveillance, and security policy. It is a directive to law enforcement.

The Carney government’s approach to antisemitism means that:

• Protesting Israel’s genocide could be treated as hate speech;
• Calling for sanctions on Israel could be labeled antisemitic;
• Advocating for Palestinian human rights could be investigated as extremism;
• Jewish anti‑Zionists could be targeted as dangerous;
• Palestinian Canadians could be criminalized for expressing their own history.

This is the architecture of authoritarianism and fascism — redefine legitimate dissent as a crime, then police it, and prosecute those whose words and actions don’t align with political agendas.

Mark Carney is violating the Charter of Rights

Canada’s Charter of Rights and Freedoms guarantees freedom of expression, conscience, assembly, and political belief. Equating anti‑Zionism — a political protest movement — with antisemitism violates all of these rights and shows how little Mark Carney’s government cares about defending human rights. Legal scholars have already warned that adopting IHRA’s conflation of anti‑Zionism with hate speech would breach Canadians’ Charter protections, and the Canadian Civil Liberties Association has called the definition “overbroad, vague, and open to abuse.”

By embracing the most extreme interpretation of IHRA, the Carney government is not merely chilling political speech — it is weaponizing state power to suppress it. The Supreme Court of Canada has repeatedly affirmed that political expression lies at the core of Charter protection, yet Ottawa is now treating dissent as extremism and criticism of a foreign government as hate. This is the kind of state behaviour seen in Russia or China, where governments collapse political disagreement into criminalized disloyalty. The fact that it is happening in Canada signals a dangerous authoritarian drift, one where constitutional rights become expendable whenever they inconvenience those in power. When a government knowingly violates constitutional rights, it is not making a policy error — it is committing an abuse of power.

Carney cares little about Canadians’ rights or Palestinian lives

Mark Carney’s government has demonstrated that it does not give a damn about the fundamental rights of millions of Canadians. It does not care about the Palestinians being slaughtered in Gaza. It does not care about the crimes against humanity being committed by Israel with Canadian complicity — through arms exports, diplomatic cover, and political obedience.

Instead, Canada has chosen to criminalize dissent at home, redefine antisemitism to serve a foreign government’s interests, and endanger both Palestinians and Jews in Canada. This is not leadership. It is capitulation to a foreign power. It is moral cowardice. It is complicity in genocide.

And Canadians must reject it — loudly, unapologetically, and relentlessly.

© 2026 The View From Here. © 2026 Fareed Khan. All Rights Reserved.

Canadian governments are failing Indigenous peoples when it comes to reconciliation

Canada’s colonial and post-Confederation governments have a 263-year history of breaking promises to Indigenous peoples, and have consistently refused to honor treaty obligations or recognize Indigenous sovereignty. 

By Fareed Khan 

A version of this article is available on Substack.

Tomorrow, September 30th, will be National Truth and Reconciliation Day in Canada. The Prime Minister’s office will put out a statement talking about the importance of the day, about the important role the Indigenous people have played in the history of Canada, maybe mention the horrific way that they were treated in the past, and then possibly talk about the importance of working with Canada’s first nations as the government works to make Canada’s economy more resilient in the face of threats from the United States. But likely nowhere in the statement will there be mention about how Canada’s governments are failing Indigenous people when it comes to reconciliation, more than a decade after the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) issued its Calls to Action.

Eleven years after the TRC released its final report and 94 Calls to Action, Canada stands at a crossroads it refuses to acknowledge. In 2015, the TRC offered a roadmap for repairing the deep wounds inflicted by more than 150 years of anti-Indigenous racism, residential schools, forced assimilation, and systemic discrimination. In 2025—on the tenth anniversary of that report—only 15 of the 94 Calls to Action had been completed. Independent monitors like the Yellowhead Institute report even lower numbers, noting that progress has stalled on the most substantive reforms. Now, more than a decade after the TRC report’s release, the pattern remains unmistakable: Canadian governments are not serious about reconciliation (if they ever were). What they are serious about the appearance of reconciliation, without taking substantive actions

The evidence is overwhelming. Symbolic gestures—orange shirts, land acknowledgments, commemorative days—have advanced quickly because they cost governments nothing. But the structural reforms that matter most to Indigenous peoples remain largely untouched. Worse yet, governments continue to violate Indigenous rights in ways that contradict the very spirit of reconciliation. From resource extraction on Indigenous territories without consent to political processes that ignore treaty obligations, Canada’s actions reveal a nation unwilling to confront the colonial systems it still relies on.

A decade of neglect, by the numbers

The TRC’s Calls to Action were meant to be implemented rather than being aspirational. Yet independent tracking shows that work on 41% of the Calls to Action have not been started or are stalled as of 2026. The federal government’s own reporting paints a rosier picture, but Indigenous-led organizations—those closest to the impacts—consistently show that progress is slowest where change matters most: child welfare, justice, health, education, and land rights.

The Gord Downie & Chanie Wenjack Fund’s 10-year anniversary review in 2025 confirmed that only 15 Calls to Action had been completed. These were overwhelmingly symbolic or administrative—establishing the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, appointing an Indigenous Languages Commissioner, creating Indigenous language programs, and updating archival policies. These are important steps, but they do not address the systemic inequities that continue to harm Indigenous communities.

The Yellowhead Institute’s multi-year analysis is even more damning. Between 2019 and 2024, researchers found that only five Calls to Action were fully completed. In two of those years, none were completed. Their conclusion is blunt: Canada has not demonstrated the political will to implement the TRC’s recommendations, especially those requiring structural change or significant investment.

Symbolism over substance

Canada excels at symbolic reconciliation. “Orange Shirt Day” is now a statutory holiday. Government buildings fly Indigenous flags. Public institutions host ceremonies and workshops. These gestures matter, but they are not substitutes for justice.

As Yellowhead Institute researcher Eva Jewell argues, reconciliation has become a “spectacle”—a performance meant to soothe settler consciences rather than transform systems. Governments have embraced the parts of reconciliation that are easy, while avoiding the parts that require confronting racist and colonial power structures.

The Calls to Action most directly tied to ending ongoing harms—funding equity, justice reform, child welfare transformation, and land rights—are precisely the ones where progress is weakest. This is not a coincidence. It is a political choice by governments which falsely claim to be committed to reconciliation

The broken promise of clean water

One of the most glaring examples of Canada’s failure to deliver meaningful change is the ongoing crisis of boil‑water advisories on First Nations reserves. In 2015, former Prime Minister Justin Trudeau promised to eliminate all long-term boil‑water advisories within five years. It was a clear, measurable commitment—one that spoke directly to basic human dignity. Clean drinking water is not a luxury, it is a fundamental human right.

Yet eleven years later, boil‑water advisories still exist in multiple First Nations communities across Canada, with 40 advisories in place as of May 2026. While progress has been made—many advisories have been lifted—Indigenous families continue to live in conditions comparable to the developing world. Children grow up unable to drink from their taps. Elders must boil water to bathe. Communities rely on bottled water shipments as if they were disaster zones, and have so for years.

The persistence of these advisories tells a story about Canada’s priorities. The federal government has repeatedly claimed that reconciliation is a national project, yet it has failed to deliver the most basic requirement of public health. The Auditor General has repeatedly warned that federal infrastructure funding for First Nations water systems is inadequate, inconsistent, and plagued by delays. Indigenous leaders have emphasized that the failure to provide clean water is not merely a policy shortfall—it is a violation of human rights, and yet the pace of the government’s response has been criminally slow.

Trudeau’s promise was not symbolic. It was concrete, measurable, and achievable. The fact that it remains unfulfilled more than a decade later reveals a profound lack of commitment to Indigenous well‑being. If Canada cannot deliver clean water—one of the simplest and most essential public services—it cannot credibly claim to be advancing reconciliation.

Alberta’s referendum ignores Indigenous rights

One of the clearest examples of governments disregarding Indigenous rights is the Alberta government allowing a referendum to begin a process for Alberta to secede from Canada. Alberta sits entirely on treaty land, and under Canadian and international law, unilateral secession without Indigenous consent would be illegal. Yet the Alberta government refused to consult First Nations before launching its referendum process.

Alberta’s failure to respect Indigenous treaty rights is not a minor oversight. It is a direct violation of treaty relationships and the principle of free, prior, and informed consent (FPIC), which Canada claims to uphold under the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP). Indigenous leaders across Alberta have condemned the government’s actions, noting that any discussion of secession must begin with the treaty partners whose lands and sovereignty are at stake.

The Alberta referendum is a microcosm of a broader pattern across Canada. Amnesty International Canada has issued a report expressing concern about the roll back of Indigenous rights in Canada under Mark Carney’s government. Whether at the federal or provincial level governments had adopted a patter where they treat Indigenous people and first nations as stakeholders rather than rights holders. Consultation is treated as optional. Consent is treated as inconvenient.

Resource extraction without consent

The most persistent and harmful violation of Indigenous rights comes from federal and provincial support for oil, gas, and mining projects on Indigenous lands. Across the country, governments continue to approve and expand resource projects without securing the consent of affected First Nations.

Human Rights Watch’s 2025 report highlights multiple cases where Indigenous communities face environmental harm, policing abuses, and criminalization for defending their lands. The Wet’suwet’en hereditary chiefs’ opposition to the Coastal GasLink pipeline is one of the most prominent examples. Despite clear opposition from traditional leadership, governments approved the project, and police forces were deployed to enforce injunctions against land defenders.

The UN Human Rights Committee has repeatedly warned Canada about its failure to respect Indigenous land rights, noting that governments continue to impose unwanted decisions on Indigenous territories despite favorable Supreme Court rulings affirming those rights.

This is not reconciliation. It is the continuation of colonial resource extraction under a new name.

New federal legislation is a step backward

Recent federal legislation—Bill C‑39 (Building Canada Strong Act) and Bill C‑5 (One Canadian Economy Act)—has raised alarm among Indigenous leaders and human rights organizations. These bills grant the federal government extraordinary powers to bypass existing laws, including Charter rights, in the name of “national interest” economic projects.

Amnesty International warns that Canada’s legal frameworks increasingly erode First Nations’ ability to assert their rights, particularly in the context of resource development. The concern is clear: these laws could allow governments to override Indigenous rights to expedite pipelines, mines, and other extractive projects. If reconciliation means respecting Indigenous sovereignty, these bills move Canada in the opposite direction.

Canada’s failures are not only recognized domestically, international human rights bodies have repeatedly criticized Canada for its treatment of Indigenous peoples. The UN Human Rights Committee’s report on Canada calls for fundamental changes to law and policy, citing violence against Indigenous women, violations of land rights, and the failure to implement the TRC’s recommendations. The Committee was so concerned that it ordered Canada to report back within one year on progress—an extraordinary measure reserved for serious human rights concerns.

Human Rights Watch similarly documents systemic racism, service gaps, and failures in policing, housing, and health services for Indigenous communities. The Auditor General of Canada has confirmed chronic underfunding in First Nations housing and policing, while the Assembly of First Nations estimates the infrastructure gap at $350 billion—a gap that continues to grow.

These findings reinforce what Indigenous peoples have said for decades: Canada’s systems are designed to produce inequity, not reconciliation.

The legacy of broken promises

The TRC was not Canada’s first attempt at reconciliation. The Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples (RCAP) issued 440 recommendations in 1996. Almost none were implemented. The pattern is clear. Canada commissions reports, expresses regret, and then fails to act.

Indigenous Watchdog notes that Canada’s colonial and post-Confederation governments have a 263-year history of making and breaking promises to Indigenous peoples. From the Royal Proclamation of 1763 to modern land claims, governments have consistently refused to honor treaty obligations or recognize Indigenous sovereignty.

The TRC was supposed to break this cycle. Instead, it has become another chapter in the long history of failures by the Canadian government to act in the name of justice for Indigenous people.

Governments cannot be trusted on reconciliation

The evidence of the last decade makes one truth unavoidable. Canadian governments cannot be trusted to implement meaningful reconciliation. Their actions reveal a pattern that Indigenous people have recognized for generations.

Governments consistently prioritize economic interests over Indigenous rights. Resource extraction projects continue to override free, prior, and informed consent, treaty obligations, and environmental protections. When oil, gas, and mining profits are at stake, Indigenous sovereignty becomes an obstacle rather than a principle.

Governments also embrace symbolic reconciliation because it is easy. Statutory holidays, land acknowledgments, and ceremonial gestures require no structural change, no redistribution of power, and no challenge to the systems that uphold racist colonial domination. Symbolism becomes a substitute for justice.

Additionally, governments avoid accountability whenever possible. The National Council for Reconciliation — promised as a mechanism to track progress — was delayed for nine years, and even now its mandate remains narrow and constrained. It is designed to observe, not to compel.

Furthermore, the government resists structural reforms that would actually shift power. Calls to Action requiring funding equity, justice reform, land restitution, or the recognition of inherent Indigenous jurisdiction remain largely untouched. The reforms that matter most are precisely the ones governments refuse to implement.

And finally, governments continue to violate Indigenous rights in real time. Alberta’s referendum on independence proceeded without consulting First Nations whose treaty lands would be directly affected. Federal legislation such as Bill C‑39 and Bill C‑5 grant extraordinary powers to bypass legal protections — including Indigenous rights under the Charter — in the name of “national interest.” These actions show that Indigenous sovereignty is not respected, and Indigenous rights are routinely sacrificed on the altar of political expediency.

Indigenous people across the country see these contradictions clearly. They see governments claiming to “work on” dozens of Calls to Action while simultaneously advancing policies that undermine their rights. They see the widening gap between rhetoric and reality. They see that reconciliation, as practiced by Canadian governments, is not a path toward justice but a strategy for managing public perception while maintaining power.

Reconciliation requires ending harm, not managing optics

Reconciliation is not a branding exercise. It is not a holiday, or a flag. It is the hard work of dismantling colonial systems and honouring Indigenous sovereignty. Canada has not stopped the harm. It has not even slowed it.

Eleven years after the TRC, Indigenous communities continue to face systemic discrimination, underfunding, land dispossession, and political exclusion. Governments continue to prioritize resource extraction from Indigenous territories over Indigenous rights, and symbolism over substance.

The Truth and Reconciliation Commission offered Canada a chance to transform its relationship with Indigenous peoples. Canada chose not to take it.

© 2026 The View From Here. © 2026 Fareed Khan. All Rights Reserved.