Quebec’s “secularism” law set to ruin more lives as government announces proposed ban on public prayers

Quebec's secularism law has not only fuelled individual acts of hate but also energized white supremacist and anti-Muslim hate groups, who find validation in its anti-Muslim agenda. 

 
By Fareed Khan

In a disturbing escalation of its controversial secularism policies, the Quebec government, led by the Coalition Avenir Québec (CAQ) under Premier François Legault, has announced plans to ban prayers in public spaces and extend Bill 21’s restrictions to public day cares. These measures build on the 2019 act, which prohibits public employees in positions of authority from wearing religious symbols, disproportionately targeting Muslims, Sikhs, and Jews who visibly express their faith. After six years of legal challenges in Quebec the law has finally reached the Supreme Court.

While Quebec defends these policies as promoting state neutrality, the manner in which the CAQ has implemented its interpretation of secularism, coupled with the anti-religious fervour apparent in the debate around the bill, demonstrates that the de facto state religion of Quebec is radical atheism, shrouded in the language of extremist secularism. Opponents of Bill 21 have no issue with the concept of the separation of church and state. But elevating atheistic principles to the level of state-sanctioned ideology in the guise of promoting secularism, and forcing public sector workers to be ambassadors of that government-sanctioned ideology contrary to their inherent beliefs, is no different than advocating an official state religion.

The actions of Legault’s government make it clear that not only is it against public sector workers showing visible expressions of their faith, but it is also in favour of those same workers presenting atheism as the official face of the Quebec government to the public as part of their jobs.

The forgotten genocide: The Rohingya crisis and the world’s divided attention

The Rohingya, once at the forefront of global humanitarian concern, have seen their plight fade from the international spotlight, leaving them with few advocates as Myanmar’s military and the Arakan Army continue their relentless campaign of ethnic cleansing.

 

By Fareed Khan

  

Eight years ago, in August 2017, a crisis erupted in Myanmar’s Rakhine State, thrusting the plight of the Rohingya, a stateless Muslim minority, into global focus. What began as targeted violence escalated into a genocide, as determined by the United Nations in 2018. But the roots of the genocide go back to the 1980s.

In 1982, the Rohingya, a Muslim minority in predominantly Buddhist Myanmar, were stripped of their citizenship under the government’s 1982 Citizenship Law, rendering them stateless and laying the foundation for decades of systemic persecution and oppression. This act of legal erasure marked the beginning of a slow-burning genocide, one that has unfolded over 40 years through waves of violence, displacement, and erasure. Despite brief moments of global attention, the Rohingya crisis has faded from the world’s consciousness, overshadowed by other conflicts. While the ongoing genocide in Gaza demands urgent attention, the international community must acknowledge its capacity to address multiple human rights crises simultaneously.

Under the 1982 law, the Rohingya were denied recognition as one of Myanmar’s ethnic groups, branding them as “Bengali” outsiders despite more than eleven centuries of residence in Rakhine State. This legal disenfranchisement fuelled state-sanctioned discrimination, restricting their access to education, healthcare, and freedom of movement. Over the decades, the Myanmar military orchestrated periodic pogroms, each more brutal than the last, aimed at ethnically cleansing the Rohingya from the country. By 2017, the Rohingya population in Myanmar stood at approximately 1.3 million, but the violence that erupted that year would drastically alter this number.

In August 2017, the Myanmar military launched a ferocious assault on the Rohingya, triggered by attacks on police by the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army (ARSA). The response was disproportionate and genocidal, marked by mass murders, gang rapes of Rohingya women, babies killed in front of their parents, summary executions, and the razing of hundreds of Rohingya villages.

Over 700,000 Rohingya fled to Bangladesh, joining earlier waves of refugees to form the world’s largest refugee camp in Cox’s Bazar, now home to over 1.2 million people. The United Nations and human rights organizations documented these atrocities, with the UN’s 2018 Independent Fact-Finding Mission concluding that the military’s actions constituted genocide, calling for prosecution at the International Criminal Court (ICC).

Canada showed leadership

Canada emerged as a leader in the response to the crisis, with Prime Minister Justin Trudeau appointing Bob Rae as Special Envoy to Myanmar in October 2017. Rae’s 2018 report, "Tell Them We’re Human", outlined 17 recommendations, including humanitarian aid, diplomatic pressure, and accountability measures. That year, Canada committed $300 million over three years (2018–2021) to support Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh and displaced populations in Myanmar.

As part of Canada’s response to the crisis, in September 2018, Canada’s House of Commons unanimously declared the Myanmar military’s actions a genocide, a bold step that also saw the revocation of Aung San Suu Kyi’s honorary Canadian citizenship due to her complicity in the atrocities. Canadian news outlets lauded these moves, with The Guardian in the UK reporting Foreign Minister Chrystia Freeland’s commitment to “justice and accountability” for the Rohingya.

Yet, even as Canada took these steps, the international community’s focus began to wane. There was a rise in international attention when on November 11, 2019 Gambia filed a genocide case against Myanmar at the International Court of Justice (ICJ), under the Genocide Convention. Canada announced its intent to intervene in the case in 2020 and again in 2022, but didn’t follow through. No formal intervention materialized until November 2023, when Canada joined Denmark, France, Germany, the Netherlands, and the UK in a joint declaration, a delay that frustrated advocates like the Rohingya Human Rights Network in Canada (RHRN), which has repeatedly called for stronger Canadian action, noting in 2020 that Canada’s leadership was crucial but incomplete without concrete steps like increased support for refugees in the camps and for Gambia’s genocide case at the ICJ.

A deteriorating situation and waning attention

By 2021, the situation in Myanmar deteriorated further with a military coup that deposed the civilian government, intensifying violence against the Rohingya. The remaining 600,000 Rohingya in Myanmar faced starvation, internment, and attacks from both the military and the Arakan Army, a Rakhine militia. In June 2022, Canada announced a second phase of its strategy, committing $288.3 million from 2021 to 2024 to support Rohingya refugees and crisis-affected populations. However, no new funding has been announced since, leaving humanitarian aid for the 1.2 million Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh critically underfunded according to the United Nations

Canadian news coverage of the Rohingya crisis, robust in 2017–2018, dwindled by 2022, and is practically non-existent today as other crises dominate the news headlines. Additionally, human rights organizations have noted Canada’s diminished interest in the plight of the Rohingya, highlighting the lack of a new special envoy after Rae’s departure in 2020.

The parallels between the plight of the two peoples are stark. Both the Rohingya and Palestinians face systematic ethnic cleansing, mass displacement, and targeted violence against civilians. In Gaza, Israel’s military campaign has killed more than 70,000, displaced millions, and destroyed a society, drawing global condemnation. Euromed Human Rights Monitor, a Geneva-based NGO, has called the Gaza crisis "the most transparent genocide in history". The Rohingya, like Palestinians, endure daily atrocities—starvation in Rakhine camps, attacks by the Arakan Army, and a lack of safe return options—yet their plight does not garner the same attention it did several years ago.

The international community’s focus on Gaza, while justified, reveals a troubling limitation—the assumption that global attention is a zero-sum game. The Rohingya’s fading visibility underscores this, as international aid to Cox’s Bazar has plummeted since 2020, with the UN reporting a 2023 funding shortfall of over 50% for the Rohingya Joint Response Plan. In a March 2023 statement, Doctors Without Borders noted that global indifference and under-funding will leave the Rohingya refugees in squalid conditions, reliant on overstretched humanitarian agencies, and will result in malnutrition and outbreaks of deadly diseases. Canada’s initial leadership—its 2018 and 2021 aid packages, limited sanctions, and genocide recognition—has not been sustained, with no new special envoy appointed and resettlement efforts stalled.

The Rohingya community in Canada is very small at just under 1,000 people, with only a few hundred resettled here since 2017, a minute fraction when compared to the more then 225,000 Ukrainian refugees accepted since 2022, or the more than 100,000 Syrian refugees resettled since 2015.

Next steps

So what can Canada do today?

First, Canada can demonstrate that the global community has the ability to address multiple crises simultaneously. The Rohingya genocide, like Gaza’s, meets the UN Genocide Convention’s criteria—systematic intent to destroy a group via mass murder, displacement, and cultural erasure. It requires accountability, more humanitarian aid, and stronger diplomatic pressure. Canada can lead by example by appointing a new special envoy to coordinate Canadian efforts for the Rohingya.

Second, given the significant shortfall in funding for humanitarian aid for Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh, Canada should play its part in supporting UN aid efforts at levels similar to what it did in 2018 and 2021. It is a small price to pay to maintain stability in the region.

Additionally, Canada can revisit refugee resettlement efforts. It’s 2018 offer to take in vulnerable Rohingya, including rape survivors, was rebuffed by Bangladesh at the time. But the political situation there has changed with the previous government ousted, and renewed efforts by Canada with the new Bangladeshi leadership could make resettlement of Rohingya refugees a reality.

Finally, with Gambia's ICJ case still ongoing Canada has a chance to show leadership there by providing robust support to Gambia's legal team. On the basis of the November 2023 joint statement Canada can commit its own legal resources and funds to try and speed up the process at the ICJ given that it is now six years since Gambia filed its genocide case and there has seemingly been little progress. Justice delayed is justice denied. Canadian efforts to expedite the proceedings would bring the Rohingya closer to getting justice.

The Rohingya, once at the forefront of global humanitarian concern, have seen their plight fade from the international spotlight, leaving them with few advocates as Myanmar’s military and the Arakan Army continue their relentless campaign of ethnic cleansing. Canada, which demonstrated leadership in 2018 by recognizing the genocide and committing significant aid, has the opportunity to reclaim its role as a champion of justice.

The parallels between the Rohingya’s suffering and the ongoing violence in Gaza, where systematic destruction continues, underscore the need for a sustained, collective response any time the horrors of genocide are taking place. By acting decisively for the Rohingya, Canada can overcome the shame of failing to act to help the Palestinians and show that its seeming commitment to the "international rule of law" is more than rhetoric. However, whether Canada’s leaders possess the moral resolve to live up to their proclaimed role as defenders of the international order remains uncertain, as their actions will ultimately define their legacy in confronting these atrocities.

© 2025 The View From Here. © 2025 Fareed Khan. All Rights Reserved.

Carney should know that appeasement never works when dealing with a bully like Trump

Bullies like Trump exploit perceived weakness because their goal is not mutual benefit but dominance . . . History offers stark warnings about the dangers of appeasing coercive actors. 

 
By Fareed Khan

 

Yesterday the Canadian government announced it would remove retaliatory tariffs on US goods compliant with the Canada-United States-Mexico Agreement (CUSMA), a move framed as an effort to reset stalled trade negotiations with the United States. Prime Minister Mark Carney described this as a strategic shift, likening it to a hockey game where Canada moves from “elbows up” to deft stick handling. Yet, this decision reeks of appeasement—a concession to Donald Trump, a president who has relentlessly bullied Canada with escalating tariffs and provocative rhetoric about annexing it as the 51st state. 

History and psychological studies warn us that appeasing bullies rarely ends well, and Canada’s current path risks repeating the mistakes of those who have caved to coercion before. By softening its stance, Canada is not outmanoeuvring a bully, it is inviting further aggression from a leader with a well-documented history of breaking promises and exploiting perceived weakness.

The psychology of bullies: Why appeasement fails

Psychological studies on bullying provide a clear framework for understanding Trump’s tactics and why appeasement is doomed to fail. Bullies thrive on power imbalances, using intimidation to assert dominance and extract concessions. According to the American Psychological Association bullies target those who display submissive behaviours, interpreting acquiescence as an invitation for further aggression. Appeasement, far from de-escalating conflict, signals to the bully that their tactics are effective, encouraging escalation.

This dynamic is evident in Trump’s trade war. After Canada imposed retaliatory tariffs on US goods in response to Trump’s 25% tariffs on Canadian exports (and 10% on energy), Trump raised the stakes, increasing tariffs to 35% on non-CUSMA-compliant goods and 50% on steel, aluminum, and copper. Canada’s decision to lift tariffs on CUSMA-compliant goods, while maintaining levies on key sectors like steel and autos, appears conciliatory—a move that risks emboldening Trump to push for more concessions.

Bullies like Trump exploit perceived weakness because their goal is not mutual benefit but dominance. A 2020 study in Personality and Individual Differences noted that individuals with narcissistic traits—such as grandiosity and a need for admiration—often engage in bullying to maintain control and suppress challenges to their authority. Trump’s public persona, marked by boastful rhetoric and personal attacks, aligns with this profile. His repeated references to Canada as a potential 51st state and his dismissal of former Prime Minister Justin Trudeau as a mere “governor” reflect a desire to humiliate and subordinate, not negotiate as equals. Canada’s tariff rollback, intended to foster dialogue, may instead signal to Trump that Canada is willing to bend under pressure, inviting further demands.

Historical lessons: The perils of appeasement

History offers stark warnings about the dangers of appeasing coercive actors. The most infamous example is the 1938 Munich Agreement, where Britain and France allowed Nazi Germany to annex the Sudetenland in Czechoslovakia in hopes of securing “peace in our time.” This concession, driven by the desire to avoid conflict, emboldened Adolf Hitler, who interpreted it as a sign of weakness. Within a year, Germany occupied the rest of Czechoslovakia and invaded Poland, triggering World War II. The lesson is clear: appeasing a bully who seeks dominance does not lead to peace but to escalation.

Greater effort needed to root out hate and extremism from the Canadian Armed Forces

The Canadian military’s struggle with hate and extremism is not new. For over 30 years, the military has grappled with far right ideologies infiltrating its ranks.

  
By Fareed Khan

  

The Canadian Armed Forces (CAF) have long been a symbol of national pride, tasked with defending the nation and upholding its values. Yet, recent events have exposed a deeply troubling undercurrent within the ranks—the persistence of hate, racism, and extremism. From soldiers charged with terrorism to others filmed giving Nazi salutes, these incidents reveal a systemic problem that demands urgent and more aggressive action. The Department of National Defence (DND) must intensify its efforts to eradicate these toxic elements, not only to restore public trust but also to ensure the CAF reflects the diverse, inclusive Canada it serves. 

In July 2025, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) arrested four men, including two active CAF members, Cpl. Marc-Aurèle Chabot and Cpl. Matthew Forbes, for allegedly plotting to form an anti-government militia and seize land near Quebec City. The group had amassed an arsenal of 16 explosive devices, 83 firearms and accessories, approximately 11,000 rounds of ammunition of various calibres, nearly 130 magazines, four pairs of night vision goggles and military equipment—the largest weapons cache ever recovered in a Canadian terrorism case. The RCMP labelled this plot as “ideologically motivated violent extremism,” highlighting the group’s military-style training in shooting, ambush, and survival tactics. 

This incident marks a chilling escalation, as it is reportedly the first time active CAF members have faced terrorism-related charges.  Just weeks later, another scandal rocked the CAF when a video surfaced showing five Quebec-based soldiers allegedly performing Nazi salutes at a 2023 party. The Canadian Army suspended the soldiers and launched an investigation, with Lt.-Gen. Mike Wright condemning the behaviour as “completely unacceptable”. These incidents are not isolated. They follow a disturbing pattern of hateful conduct within the CAF, with 54 incidents reported in 2024—nearly double the 31 reported in 2023—according to the Hateful Conduct Incident Tracking System (HCITS). 

The CAF’s struggle with hate and extremism is not new. For over 30 years, the military has grappled with right-wing ideologies infiltrating its ranks. In 1993, members of the Canadian Airborne Regiment tortured and killed 16-year-old Shidane Arone during a peacekeeping mission in what has come to be known as the “Somalia Affair”. An inquiry revealed neo-Nazi and Ku Klux Klan symbols displayed at CFB Petawawa, exposing a culture tolerant of white supremacy. More recently, former reservist Patrik Mathews was sentenced to nine years in a US prison in 2021 for his role in a neo-Nazi plot to incite a race war. These cases underscore a recurring issue—the CAF has been a fertile ground for white supremacy, Islamophobia, antisemitism, and other hateful ideologies.  

The dangers posed by extremism within the military are uniquely severe. Unlike civilians, CAF members receive extensive training in handling high-powered weapons and explosives, as evidenced by the Quebec militia plot. This expertise, combined with access to military resources, amplifies the threat to public safety. The Minister of National Defence’s Advisory Panel On Systemic Racism And Discrimination warned that extremist groups actively recruit military personnel to exploit their tactical skills, with groups like The Base encouraging members to enlist for training.

The CAF’s “brotherhood” culture, where loyalty to comrades often trumps accountability, further complicates efforts to root out these elements. Soldiers are reluctant to report peers, fostering a “don’t ask, don’t tell” attitude that allows hateful conduct to fester.  

The CAF’s diversity crisis exacerbates the problem. Canada’s population is increasingly diverse, yet the military struggles to attract and retain visible minorities, religious minorities, and members of the LGBTQ2+ community. A 2022 report by the advisory panel on systemic racism found that the CAF’s toxic environment, marked by rampant discrimination, is “repulsing” potential recruits. Political scientist Andy Knight’s 2024 study for the DND revealed a culture favouring white, male, Christian values, marginalizing women, people of colour, and 2SLGBTQ+ individuals. This misalignment with Canada’s demographic reality hinders recruitment, with the CAF facing a shortfall of nearly 10,000 personnel.  

The recent $900-million settlement of a class-action lawsuit against the CAF for systemic racism underscores the depth of the problem. Filed in 2016, the lawsuit alleged a culture where derogatory slurs, racial harassment, and violent threats were tolerated, causing psychological harm and lost career opportunities. The settlement, finalized in 2025, acknowledges the CAF’s failure to address discrimination effectively. Yet, despite this acknowledgement, the resurgence of hateful conduct in 2024 suggests that current measures are insufficient.  

The DND has taken steps to address extremism, but they fall short. In 2020, the CAF introduced a hateful conduct policy, defining such behaviour and requiring soldiers to report it. The Hateful Conduct Incident Tracking System (HCITS) was established to track incidents, and since 2020, 364 cases have been recorded, with 21 members released for hateful conduct.  

However, a 2022 report criticized the CAF’s detection efforts as “siloed and inefficient,” noting that leaders often lack training to recognize extremist symbols or behaviours. The counter-intelligence unit, tasked with identifying extremists, is under-resourced and operates in isolation, hampering proactive measures. Experts like Barbara Perry, director of the Centre on Hate, Bias and Extremism, argue that the CAF’s culture inadvertently nurtures extremism. The emphasis on loyalty and patriotism aligns with narratives exploited by far-right groups, who see military training as a means to advance their agendas. The re-election of Donald Trump in 2024 has emboldened far-right sentiments in Canada, with some CAF members expressing anti-immigrant views tied to a “white ethnostate”. This external political climate underscores the urgency of internal reform.  

To root out hate and extremism, the DND must adopt a multi-faceted approach. First, it should enhance screening processes to identify extremist affiliations before enlistment. Current measures are inadequate, as evidenced by cases like Erik Myggland, a reservist who supported far-right groups but continued serving until 2021. Second, the CAF must improve training for leaders to recognize and address hateful conduct, including symbols like tattoos or patches associated with extremist groups. Third, the counter-intelligence unit needs more resources and better integration with civilian law enforcement to share intelligence on extremist threats.  

Cultural reform is equally critical. The CAF must dismantle the “brotherhood” mentality that discourages reporting. Policies should incentivize whistle blowing, with clear protections for those who report hateful conduct. General Jennie Carignan, Chief of Defence Staff, has emphasized that there is “no room” for extremism, but those words must translate into action.  

The CAF should also prioritize diversity in recruitment and leadership, ensuring that visible minorities and marginalized groups are not only welcomed but protected from hateful elements. Knight’s 2024 study recommends reshaping the military’s culture to align with Canada’s inclusive values, a step that could boost morale and address the personnel shortage.  

Public trust in the CAF is at stake. The presence of extremists undermines the military’s role as a defender of Canadian values, particularly when those values include diversity and inclusion. The defence minister has called for “relentless action” against discrimination, but incremental changes are not enough. The CAF must act decisively, with transparent accountability measures to demonstrate progress. This includes public reporting on HCITS data and disciplinary outcomes to rebuild confidence.  

The recent arrests and the Nazi salute video are stark reminders that hate and extremism remain entrenched in the CAF. These incidents are not just internal failures. They pose a direct threat to public safety given the military’s access to lethal training and resources. The DND must move beyond reactive measures and commit to systemic change. By strengthening screening, enhancing training, bolstering intelligence, and fostering an inclusive culture, the CAF can reclaim its role as a force for good. Canada’s diverse population deserves a military that reflects its values, not one tainted by the shadow of hate.

© 2025 The View From Here. © 2025 Fareed Khan. All Rights Reserved.

Pierre Poilievre is back as an MP, but a career politician is not what Canadians need in a potential prime minister

By compelling one of his own MPs to resign to run in his place, Poilievre undermines the will of his former constituents, raising questions about his commitment to accountability and democracy. 

  
By Fareed Khan 
  

After his easy victory in an Alberta by-election yesterday, Conservative Party leader Pierre Poilievre will return to the House of Commons this fall, despite the voters in his Ottawa-area riding rejecting him in the April 2025 federal election—a seat he held for 20 years. His calculated move to run in a safe Conservative riding to re-enter the House of Commons raises concerns about democratic accountability. By strategically exploiting election laws to run in a less competitive riding, he prioritized personal ambition over voters' desires, casting doubt on his commitment to fair representation, democracy, and the views of the overwhelming majority Canadians who voted against his party on April 28th.

Less than four months ago the voters of the Ottawa area riding of Carleton decisively rejected Poilievre, signalling dissatisfaction with him as an MP, while nationally a plurality of Canadians favoured Mark Carney’s Liberals. Yet, by orchestrating an Alberta MP’s resignation to secure a seat in a Conservative stronghold, Poilievre circumvented these democratic verdicts—a manoeuvre that reeks of political opportunism.

His lifelong career as a politician, untested by experiences outside the political sphere, is another red flag, further underscoring a profound disconnect from the realities faced by most Canadians. This, along with his divisive political style, his proclivity for name calling (in the style of Donald Trump), and his habit of boiling complex policy issues down to annoying sound bites (e.g. “Axe the tax”, “Stop the crime”, “Boots not suits”), render him ill-suited to lead the nation as a potential future prime minister.

Unlike Poilievre, current Prime Minister, Mark Carney, and former Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, brought diverse career backgrounds outside of politics to their political career, grounding them in real-world challenges. 

Before entering politics, Carney built a distinguished career at global investment banking firm Goldman Sachs and served as the governor of the Bank of Canada and the Bank of England.  His experience navigating global financial markets and economic crises equipped him with a deep understanding of economic pressures that affect ordinary Canadians.  Similarly, Trudeau’s career before politics included roles as a teacher, community activist and advocate, exposing him to the struggles of diverse communities. 

In contrast, Poilievre’s career trajectory is strikingly narrow—straight from university to a staff position with Canadian Alliance party leader Stockwell Day, followed by his election as an MP at age 25.  His entire professional life has been funded by taxpayers, leaving him without the real world grounding that comes from working outside the political sphere.

Poilievre’s lack of experience outside politics is exacerbated by his elite financial status.  When he was elected as an MP for the first time in 2005 he was suddenly earning a substantial six-figure salary—$141,200 per year—which put him in the top three percent of income earners in the country.  As Opposition Leader, he earns $299,900 annually, placing him in the top 1% of Canadian income earners.  This salary far surpasses the average Canadian household income of approximately $74,200, insulating him from the financial pressures that define the lives of most Canadians.  He resides in Stornoway, the official residence of the Opposition Leader, where he incurs no personal costs for rent, utilities, or maintenance.  His household is supported by a publicly funded staff, including a chef, housekeeper, and groundskeeper, and he has access to a $166,000 annual entertainment budget—resources unimaginable to the average Canadian grappling with rising housing and grocery costs.  Poilievre’s additional perks, such as a government-provided SUV, chauffeur, and 24-hour security detail, further entrench him in a world of privilege that bears little resemblance to the realities of those Canadians who don’t share his elite lifestyle.

This privilege stands in stark contrast to the experiences of most Canadians, who face mounting economic challenges.  Housing affordability has become a crisis, with average home prices in major cities like Toronto and Vancouver exceeding $1 million, while median household incomes lag far behind.  Renters, too, struggle with skyrocketing costs, with average monthly rents for a one-bedroom apartment in urban centres surpassing $2,000.  In the face of this affordability crisis Poilievre lives for free in a 19 room mansion in one of the most exclusive neighbourhoods in Ottawa

Grocery prices have have also risen sharply, with food inflation outpacing wage growth for many families.  For low-income Canadians, these pressures are even more acute, with many relying on food banks to make ends meet.  Poilievre, cocooned in a taxpayer-funded elite bubble, has never faced these sorts of struggles.  His lack of exposure to the private sector or community-based work means he has not experienced the issue of job insecurity, the grind of a low-wage job, or the challenge of balancing a budget on a modest income.

Poilievre’s rhetoric has often invoked the struggles of “ordinary Canadians,” railing against “elites” and “gatekeepers” in impassioned speeches.  Yet, his lifestyle and career trajectory belie this populist narrative.  Receiving a taxpayer funded salary, residing in a publicly funded mansion and enjoying perks unavailable to to the vast majority, he is the epitome of the very elites he critiques.  The policy proposals that he presented to Canadians during the election, rooted in his time under Stephen Harper’s government, often prioritized fiscal austerity and support for corporate interests—approaches that historically favoured the wealthy and privileged over average Canadians he claims to champion.

Academic research underscores that politicians with diverse professional backgrounds bring a broader perspective to governance, enabling them to better address societal challenges.  Poilievre’s singular focus on politics, untested by the uncertainties outside the political arena, limits his ability to relate to those Canadians who navigate financial and social struggles on a daily basis.  His claims to understand the struggles of ordinary Canadians are political platitudes rooted in his desire to attain power. 

The Alberta by-election further highlights Poilievre’s disconnect from democratic principles.  His defeat in Ottawa was a democratic judgment on his leadership and representation.  By compelling one of his own recently elected Conservative MPs to resign and run in his place, he undermines the will of his former constituents, raising ethical questions about his commitment to accountability and democracy.  This maneuver, while legal, suggests a prioritization of personal ambition over democratic integrity, a trait ill-suited for a potential prime minister. 

In contrast, Carney’s entry into politics was marked by a competitive leadership race within the Liberal Party, while Trudeau built his leadership through grassroots engagement.  Poilievre’s decision to ignore the will of the voters in his Ottawa riding and seek a safer seat in Alberta can be seen as a form of political cheating, undermining the principle that elected officials should comply with the will of their constituents. 

The lavish benefits afforded to Poilievre as Opposition Leader further amplify his disconnect.  Unlike other parliamentary democracies, such as the United Kingdom or Australia, Canada provides its Opposition Leader with a publicly funded residence and extensive perks.  In the UK, the Leader of the Opposition receives a modest office budget and no official residence, while in Australia, similar roles are supported with far less extravagance.  

These benefits, while justified for a sitting prime minister due to security and representational demands, seem excessive for an opposition leader, particularly when there is no similar level of benefits provided to opposition party leaders in peer nations.  Canadians struggling to afford basic necessities might question why their tax dollars fund such luxuries for someone who claims to understand their plight.  This arrangement, unique among comparable democracies, underscores the systemic privilege that insulates Poilievre from the realities of ordinary Canadians. 

Poilievre’s ascent to political prominence raises broader concerns about the suitability of career politicians for leadership.  Unlike Carney, whose financial expertise informs his approach to economic policy, or Trudeau, whose community engagement shaped his social priorities, Poilievre lacks the experiential foundation to empathize with a vast majority of Canadians.  His policies, often cloaked in populist rhetoric, tend to align with the interests of the privileged.  For example, Conservative platforms under Harper, which Poilievre endorsed, prioritized corporate tax cuts and deregulation, measures that disproportionately benefited the wealthy and corporate elites, while doing little to alleviate the burdens of average citizens and those on the lower end of the income spectrum.  Recent analyses suggest that similar policies espoused by Poilievre during the federal election would likely continue this trend, offering little relief to struggling Canadians.

Canada deserves a potential prime minister who understands the weight of a grocery bill, the anxiety of a missed rent payment, or the struggle to secure stable employment.  Poilievre’s career, defined by taxpayer-funded roles and systemic privilege, offers no such understanding.  His rhetoric may appeal to those frustrated with the government, but his lack of real-world experience and elite lifestyle render him incapable of addressing the needs of most Canadians, even many of those who voted Conservative. 

Canadians must recognize the inherent risks of entrusting Pierre Poilievre with the keys to the prime minister’s office in future elections.  His career, confined to the insular world of politics without substantial real-world experience, raises serious doubts about his suitability for the job of prime minister. Career politicians, lacking exposure to the everyday struggles of ordinary citizens, often fail to grasp the practical perspectives needed to tackle complex policy challenges effectively.

Poilievre’s record, defined by political manoeuvring and manipulation rather than meaningful societal contributions, highlights his disconnect from the realities Canadians face. His decades within the political elite have shaped a lifestyle far removed from the average citizen’s, undermining his ability to bridge the growing divide between the elite and the public. 

 

The nation’s future demands leaders with diverse, grounded experiences to craft policies that address the needs of all Canadians. Poilievre’s lack of such experience renders him unfit to navigate these critical issues, and voters should not place their confidence in him or his party when the next general election takes place in a few years.

© 2025 The View From Here. © 2025 Fareed Khan. All Rights Reserved.