Tinmaung’s story exposes
the hollowness and selective nature of “Never Again” as practiced by Canada and
the West. Rohingya survivors and their descendants recognize the patterns of
genocide.
By Fareed Khan
A version of this can be found on Substack.
Late Wednesday evening, June 3, as Ko
Tinmaung (a close friend) stepped off a Virgin Atlantic flight from London at
Toronto Pearson International Airport, Canadians across the country should have
had reason to reflect on the profound courage of a man—a son whose
family survived genocide—propelled him to risk everything for strangers
half a world away.
© 2026 The View From Here. © 2026 Fareed Khan. All Rights Reserved.
A Rohingya-Canadian human rights
activist, Tinmaung was among a dozen Canadians on the Global Sumud Gaza Flotilla—a
multinational humanitarian mission attempting to break Israel’s 19-year siege
of Gaza. Illegally intercepted by Israeli forces in international waters in
mid-May, he, along with 11 other Canadians and hundreds of other flotilla
volunteers, was detained and subjected to torture before being deported by
Israel. He finally made his way home via
a hospital in Turkey, The Hague—where he met with ICC officials—and the UK
where he met with a prominent genocide scholar. His ordeal is not merely the
story of one determined activist. It is a searing indictment of Western
hypocrisy on violating the sacred pledge of “Never Again” made after the
horrors of World War Two and the Holocaust.
Tinmaung’s parents fled the horrors of Myanmar’s genocidal campaign against the Rohingya in the 1990s, part of a decades-long persecution that escalated dramatically in 2017 and 2018, with mass killings, rapes, the wholesale destruction of Rohingya villages, the murder of babies, and the displacement of over 800,000 people to refugee camps in Bangladesh. The United States government formally determined that Myanmar’s military committed genocide and crimes against humanity against the Rohingya, as did Canada. United Nations fact-finding missions and International Court of Justice proceedings have documented the systematic intent to destroy the Rohingya people in whole or in part.
Having survived this nightmare through exile and displacement his parents were accepted for settlement in Canada where they taught their son not to look away when others faced the same types of horrors they did. Tinmaung could have chosen not to heed those lessons or focussed on narrow ethnic advocacy. Instead, he has embodied the universal lesson of his people’s suffering. He joined the Global Sumud Flotilla in May—a multinational civilian mission involving dozens of vessels and over 400 participants from more than 40 countries—carrying humanitarian aid to challenge Israel’s 19-year blockade of Gaza and draw global attention to what multiple respected bodies have identified as an ongoing genocide in the enclave.
In international waters off Cyprus, Israeli forces illegally intercepted the flotilla in what international law experts have called an act of state piracy. Hundreds of activists, including a dozen Canadians, were detained. In a testimony posted by Doctors Against Genocide Tinmaung reported brutal treatment—beatings, repeated tasering, and other forms of torture. Social media posts showing detainees being taunted and threatened by Israeli National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir sparked international outrage, leading to Tinmaung’s deportation to Turkey along with the other activists. There, he received hospital treatment for his injuries before travelling to The Hague to testify before International Criminal Court officials, and then meeting with noted genocide scholar Professor Maung Zarni in the UK. His resilience mirrors the idea of “sumud”—steadfastness or perseverance—he sought to support in solidarity with Palestinians in Gaza.
Tinmaung has explicitly drawn parallels between the Rohingya genocide and the situation in Gaza. If one examines the two atrocities, both involve systematic dehumanization, collective punishment, destruction of homes and infrastructure, and the targeting of a people’s ability to survive and reproduce as a group. His participation in the flotilla was a living enactment of “Never Again”—not as a slogan for one tragedy, but as a moral imperative against all peoples who are targets of genocide.
Western politicians, particularly in Canada, have mouthed this phrase for decades at annual genocide commemoration events while failing to apply it consistently. The Holocaust rightly forged a global commitment to prevent future genocides, yet that commitment has proven selective. When the victims are not aligned with geopolitical interests, “Never Again” becomes “Never Again . . . where it’s convenient and politically expedient,” thereby ignoring the core nature of the phrase.
In Gaza, the evidence of genocidal acts is overwhelming. A UN Independent International Commission of Inquiry has concluded that Israel has committed genocide against Palestinians in Gaza, citing acts including killing, causing serious bodily and mental harm, and deliberately inflicting conditions of life calculated to bring about physical destruction. The International Association of Genocide Scholars passed a resolution affirming that Israel’s policies meet the legal definition under the 1948 Genocide Convention. Israeli human rights organizations like B’Tselem and Physicians for Human Rights Israel, Amnesty International, and numerous scholars have reached similar conclusions after meticulous documentation.
These are not fringe voices. They include UN experts, legal bodies, and even Israeli organizations confronting the reality of their government’s criminal actions—mass civilian deaths (with independent organizations conservatively estimating over 80,000 Palestinians killed), widespread destruction of homes, hospitals, schools, and universities, forced displacement of nearly the entire population, and deliberate deprivation of food, water, medicine, and electricity. Children have been disproportionately affected, with reports of entire families erased and a new acronym in medical literature: WCNSF—Wounded Child No Surviving Family.
Canada’s response under Prime Minister Mark Carney has been tepid at best. Following the flotilla interception and the mistreatment of Canadian citizens, the government’s primary action was summoning Israel’s ambassador and issuing statements condemning the “appalling treatment.” No sanctions, no arms embargo, no meaningful diplomatic isolation, no suspension of trade—despite the participation of Canadians in a peaceful humanitarian mission that was met with an act of violent state piracy and terrorism on the high seas.
The Canadian government’s passivity is part of a broader pattern. While Canada has recognized the State of Palestine (conditionally) and called for ceasefires and humanitarian access, it has stopped short of taking the decisive measures required by the Genocide Convention’s obligation to prevent and punish genocide. State parties, including Canada, have a duty not only to refrain from complicity in genocide but to take positive action to halt it. Summoning an ambassador while continuing business as usual—arms exports, trade ties, and diplomatic cover—falls tragically short and makes Canada criminally complicit.
Critics will argue that Israel’s actions are a justifiable response to the October 7, 2023 by Hamas. And while no one any nation’s right to defend itself under international law self-defence does not justify collective punishment, indiscriminate destruction, or acts prohibited by the Genocide Convention. The scale, the intent inferred from statements by Israeli officials, and the brutal and systematic nature of the campaign in Gaza distinguish it from legitimate warfare. As genocide scholars note, security pretexts have historically masked genocidal campaigns in the past and Israel is doing the same now.
Tinmaung’s story exposes the hollowness and selective nature of “Never Again” as practiced by Canada and the West. Rohingya survivors and their descendants recognize the patterns of genocide—pattern of language dehumanizing the “other,” ghettoization, siege, destruction of cultural and reproductive capacity, and international inaction until it is too late. His decision to sail with the Sumud Flotilla was an act of profound solidarity and courage—putting his money, body, and freedom where his mouth is. The same is the case for the other Canadians, and hundreds of other Flotilla participants from over 40 countries. He (and they) did what politicians evade—translate historic memory around atrocities into moral courage.
Mark Carney’s and other Western leaders’ reluctance to do what is moral and right stems from various factors—strategic alliances, domestic politics, lobbying, and fears of antisemitism accusations. However, legitimate concern for Jewish safety must not become a shield for impunity. If Carney had courage and demonstrated real leadership he would demand accountability from Israel for its actions which erode its moral standing and long-term security. Complicity in genocide damages everyone, including Jewish communities which face rising antisemitism partly fueled by outrage over what Israel—the supposed embodiment of the Jewish people globally—is doing in Gaza.
Canada’s approach under Carney—words of concern paired with minimal action—exemplifies performative solidarity. The Carney government has acknowledged the humanitarian disaster and supported some international aid efforts, yet it has not imposed targeted sanctions on Israeli political and military leaders responsible for war crimes and crimes against humanity, and genocide, nor meaningfully restricted Canada’s military-related exports to Israel. This is not leadership. It is complicity through omission.
Tinmaung’s arrival in Toronto was met with welcoming cheers from a large group of supporters. But it should also result in a national reckoning. Canadians pride ourselves on what is now a myth, that this country upholds human rights advocacy and protects refugees. In the 1970s we welcomed Vietnamese Boat People. We welcomed Bosnians and Kosovars in the 1990s. We opened the doors to Syrian refugees in the 2010s. And we have welcomed small numbers of Rohingya genocide survivors. Will we now reject the principles that brought these groups here now that the victims are Palestinian?
The Global Sumud Flotilla, despite its interception, succeeded in one vital way it kept the world’s attention on the Gaza genocide when fatigue and other global crises threaten to normalize the horror. Activists like Tinmaung who displayed amazing courage along with the other Canadians who participated in the Flotilla force us to confront what “Never Again” truly requires—economic pressure, diplomatic isolation of perpetrators, support for international justice mechanisms like the International Criminal Court and the International Court of Justice, and unhindered humanitarian aid.
As Tinmaung recovers from his injuries resulting from Israeli torture and shares his testimony, his message will likely echo the one he carried to sea: the struggles against genocide are connected. Silence or weak responses by governments to one emboldens others. The Rohingya waited years for meaningful action, and many still wait for justice. Palestinians cannot afford the same delay.
Canada has to do far better than it has in relation to Israeli atrocities committed in Gaza. It must impose comprehensive sanctions on Israeli political and military officials and entities implicated in grave violations of international law. It must halt all arms-related trade with Israel by closing loopholes in Canadian law. It must lead calls for enforcement of ICJ provisional measures. It must use Canada’s influence in international forums to demand an end to the Israeli blockade of Gaza and accountability. Anything less dishonors not only Tinmaung’s personal sacrifice but also the memory of all genocide victims, including those of the Holocaust whose suffering birthed the “Never Again” pledge.
Ko Tinmaung has put his body and life on the line for a principle Western politicians treat as optional rhetoric. His story demands we choose. Will “Never Again” finally mean something universal, or will it remain a selective eulogy for the politically convenient dead? The answer will define Canada’s moral standing in this century and how it is perceived in the global south for decades to come.
Tinmaung’s parents fled the horrors of Myanmar’s genocidal campaign against the Rohingya in the 1990s, part of a decades-long persecution that escalated dramatically in 2017 and 2018, with mass killings, rapes, the wholesale destruction of Rohingya villages, the murder of babies, and the displacement of over 800,000 people to refugee camps in Bangladesh. The United States government formally determined that Myanmar’s military committed genocide and crimes against humanity against the Rohingya, as did Canada. United Nations fact-finding missions and International Court of Justice proceedings have documented the systematic intent to destroy the Rohingya people in whole or in part.
Having survived this nightmare through exile and displacement his parents were accepted for settlement in Canada where they taught their son not to look away when others faced the same types of horrors they did. Tinmaung could have chosen not to heed those lessons or focussed on narrow ethnic advocacy. Instead, he has embodied the universal lesson of his people’s suffering. He joined the Global Sumud Flotilla in May—a multinational civilian mission involving dozens of vessels and over 400 participants from more than 40 countries—carrying humanitarian aid to challenge Israel’s 19-year blockade of Gaza and draw global attention to what multiple respected bodies have identified as an ongoing genocide in the enclave.
In international waters off Cyprus, Israeli forces illegally intercepted the flotilla in what international law experts have called an act of state piracy. Hundreds of activists, including a dozen Canadians, were detained. In a testimony posted by Doctors Against Genocide Tinmaung reported brutal treatment—beatings, repeated tasering, and other forms of torture. Social media posts showing detainees being taunted and threatened by Israeli National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir sparked international outrage, leading to Tinmaung’s deportation to Turkey along with the other activists. There, he received hospital treatment for his injuries before travelling to The Hague to testify before International Criminal Court officials, and then meeting with noted genocide scholar Professor Maung Zarni in the UK. His resilience mirrors the idea of “sumud”—steadfastness or perseverance—he sought to support in solidarity with Palestinians in Gaza.
Tinmaung has explicitly drawn parallels between the Rohingya genocide and the situation in Gaza. If one examines the two atrocities, both involve systematic dehumanization, collective punishment, destruction of homes and infrastructure, and the targeting of a people’s ability to survive and reproduce as a group. His participation in the flotilla was a living enactment of “Never Again”—not as a slogan for one tragedy, but as a moral imperative against all peoples who are targets of genocide.
Western politicians, particularly in Canada, have mouthed this phrase for decades at annual genocide commemoration events while failing to apply it consistently. The Holocaust rightly forged a global commitment to prevent future genocides, yet that commitment has proven selective. When the victims are not aligned with geopolitical interests, “Never Again” becomes “Never Again . . . where it’s convenient and politically expedient,” thereby ignoring the core nature of the phrase.
In Gaza, the evidence of genocidal acts is overwhelming. A UN Independent International Commission of Inquiry has concluded that Israel has committed genocide against Palestinians in Gaza, citing acts including killing, causing serious bodily and mental harm, and deliberately inflicting conditions of life calculated to bring about physical destruction. The International Association of Genocide Scholars passed a resolution affirming that Israel’s policies meet the legal definition under the 1948 Genocide Convention. Israeli human rights organizations like B’Tselem and Physicians for Human Rights Israel, Amnesty International, and numerous scholars have reached similar conclusions after meticulous documentation.
These are not fringe voices. They include UN experts, legal bodies, and even Israeli organizations confronting the reality of their government’s criminal actions—mass civilian deaths (with independent organizations conservatively estimating over 80,000 Palestinians killed), widespread destruction of homes, hospitals, schools, and universities, forced displacement of nearly the entire population, and deliberate deprivation of food, water, medicine, and electricity. Children have been disproportionately affected, with reports of entire families erased and a new acronym in medical literature: WCNSF—Wounded Child No Surviving Family.
Canada’s response under Prime Minister Mark Carney has been tepid at best. Following the flotilla interception and the mistreatment of Canadian citizens, the government’s primary action was summoning Israel’s ambassador and issuing statements condemning the “appalling treatment.” No sanctions, no arms embargo, no meaningful diplomatic isolation, no suspension of trade—despite the participation of Canadians in a peaceful humanitarian mission that was met with an act of violent state piracy and terrorism on the high seas.
The Canadian government’s passivity is part of a broader pattern. While Canada has recognized the State of Palestine (conditionally) and called for ceasefires and humanitarian access, it has stopped short of taking the decisive measures required by the Genocide Convention’s obligation to prevent and punish genocide. State parties, including Canada, have a duty not only to refrain from complicity in genocide but to take positive action to halt it. Summoning an ambassador while continuing business as usual—arms exports, trade ties, and diplomatic cover—falls tragically short and makes Canada criminally complicit.
Critics will argue that Israel’s actions are a justifiable response to the October 7, 2023 by Hamas. And while no one any nation’s right to defend itself under international law self-defence does not justify collective punishment, indiscriminate destruction, or acts prohibited by the Genocide Convention. The scale, the intent inferred from statements by Israeli officials, and the brutal and systematic nature of the campaign in Gaza distinguish it from legitimate warfare. As genocide scholars note, security pretexts have historically masked genocidal campaigns in the past and Israel is doing the same now.
Tinmaung’s story exposes the hollowness and selective nature of “Never Again” as practiced by Canada and the West. Rohingya survivors and their descendants recognize the patterns of genocide—pattern of language dehumanizing the “other,” ghettoization, siege, destruction of cultural and reproductive capacity, and international inaction until it is too late. His decision to sail with the Sumud Flotilla was an act of profound solidarity and courage—putting his money, body, and freedom where his mouth is. The same is the case for the other Canadians, and hundreds of other Flotilla participants from over 40 countries. He (and they) did what politicians evade—translate historic memory around atrocities into moral courage.
Mark Carney’s and other Western leaders’ reluctance to do what is moral and right stems from various factors—strategic alliances, domestic politics, lobbying, and fears of antisemitism accusations. However, legitimate concern for Jewish safety must not become a shield for impunity. If Carney had courage and demonstrated real leadership he would demand accountability from Israel for its actions which erode its moral standing and long-term security. Complicity in genocide damages everyone, including Jewish communities which face rising antisemitism partly fueled by outrage over what Israel—the supposed embodiment of the Jewish people globally—is doing in Gaza.
Canada’s approach under Carney—words of concern paired with minimal action—exemplifies performative solidarity. The Carney government has acknowledged the humanitarian disaster and supported some international aid efforts, yet it has not imposed targeted sanctions on Israeli political and military leaders responsible for war crimes and crimes against humanity, and genocide, nor meaningfully restricted Canada’s military-related exports to Israel. This is not leadership. It is complicity through omission.
Tinmaung’s arrival in Toronto was met with welcoming cheers from a large group of supporters. But it should also result in a national reckoning. Canadians pride ourselves on what is now a myth, that this country upholds human rights advocacy and protects refugees. In the 1970s we welcomed Vietnamese Boat People. We welcomed Bosnians and Kosovars in the 1990s. We opened the doors to Syrian refugees in the 2010s. And we have welcomed small numbers of Rohingya genocide survivors. Will we now reject the principles that brought these groups here now that the victims are Palestinian?
The Global Sumud Flotilla, despite its interception, succeeded in one vital way it kept the world’s attention on the Gaza genocide when fatigue and other global crises threaten to normalize the horror. Activists like Tinmaung who displayed amazing courage along with the other Canadians who participated in the Flotilla force us to confront what “Never Again” truly requires—economic pressure, diplomatic isolation of perpetrators, support for international justice mechanisms like the International Criminal Court and the International Court of Justice, and unhindered humanitarian aid.
As Tinmaung recovers from his injuries resulting from Israeli torture and shares his testimony, his message will likely echo the one he carried to sea: the struggles against genocide are connected. Silence or weak responses by governments to one emboldens others. The Rohingya waited years for meaningful action, and many still wait for justice. Palestinians cannot afford the same delay.
Canada has to do far better than it has in relation to Israeli atrocities committed in Gaza. It must impose comprehensive sanctions on Israeli political and military officials and entities implicated in grave violations of international law. It must halt all arms-related trade with Israel by closing loopholes in Canadian law. It must lead calls for enforcement of ICJ provisional measures. It must use Canada’s influence in international forums to demand an end to the Israeli blockade of Gaza and accountability. Anything less dishonors not only Tinmaung’s personal sacrifice but also the memory of all genocide victims, including those of the Holocaust whose suffering birthed the “Never Again” pledge.
Ko Tinmaung has put his body and life on the line for a principle Western politicians treat as optional rhetoric. His story demands we choose. Will “Never Again” finally mean something universal, or will it remain a selective eulogy for the politically convenient dead? The answer will define Canada’s moral standing in this century and how it is perceived in the global south for decades to come.
© 2026 The View From Here. © 2026 Fareed Khan. All Rights Reserved.
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