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.

Canada has a racist and Islamophobic foreign policy where Palestinians are concerned

Mark Carney's government forfeits any claim to moral authority, human rights leadership, or rule of law credibility while enabling Israel's genocide in Gaza.

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

Canada and its leaders have long promoted a self‑image of this nation as a principled defender of human rights, a champion of the “international rule of law,” and a nation whose foreign policy is guided by moral clarity. But as Israel’s genocide in Gaza approaches the end of its third year, that mythology has collapsed.

The Mark Carney government — like that of Justin Trudeau’s government before it — has revealed that Canada’s commitment to the “rule of law” differs depending on the race and faith of the victims.  Under both their government’s Canada’s actions have demonstrated that when the victims are white and Christian, as in the case of Ukrainians, it responds with urgency, clarity, and moral conviction. But when the victims are brown, Muslim, and Palestinian, Canada is willing to discard its professed values, diminish their suffering, and reduce their humanity to a diplomatic afterthought. In Gaza, Canada has shown that it will cushion genocide with soft language, mask injustice with polite indifference, and choose political comfort over the lives of an entire people.

The contrast between Canada’s response to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and its response to Israel’s destruction of Gaza is not merely a “double standard.” It is evidence of a foreign policy architecture built on racism, Islamophobia, and a willingness to abandon international law when the perpetrator is a Western ally. It is also evidence that Canada’s leaders —both Mark Carney and Justin Trudeau — have not been neutral observers but active participants in enabling mass atrocity.

This is not hyperbole. It is a conclusion drawn from Canada’s own actions, its own omissions, and its own refusal to apply the same legal, diplomatic, and humanitarian standards to Palestinians that it has applied to Ukrainians.

Moral clarity for Ukraine, evasion for Gaza

When Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022, Canada responded with immediate moral certainty, and within two months the House of Commons unanimously declared Russia’s actions genocide — even though international legal scholars and human rights organizations had not reached a conclusion. Canada did not wait for the International Criminal Court (ICC), the International Court of Justice (ICJ), or any global consensus. It acted on principle, or at least on what it claimed was principle.

But when Israel began its systematic destruction of Gaza — a campaign that global human rights organizations, UN experts, the International Federation for Human Rights, the International Association of Genocide Scholars, and thousands of jurists ultimately identified as genocide—Canada refused to utter the word. In October 2023 Israeli Holocaust scholar Raz Segal had already labelled Israeli atrocities as genocide. By December 2023 the Lemkin Institute for Genocide Prevention — named for Raphael Lemkin, the Jewish lawyer who coined the term “genocide” — came to the same conclusion, that Israel was committing the crime of crimes. Even then, the Canadian government under Justin Trudeau continued to hide behind neutralized language: “conflict,” “shortages,” “humanitarian crisis,” “tragic loss of life.” By the time Mark Carney became prime minister in March 2025, the global consensus on the Gaza genocide was unequivocal—with Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, B’Tselem, the United Nations and other prominent legal and human rights voices declaring that Israel was committing genocide. Yet Canada still refused to call the crime by its name or acknowledge that Israel was the perpetrator responsible.

This rhetorical sanitization is not accidental, it is a deliberate political choice. It is crafted to shield Israel from accountability and to shield Canada from the legal consequences that would follow from acknowledging that genocide is taking place. Canada’s refusal to admit that Israel is committing genocide is not merely cowardice—it is a breach of its obligations under the Genocide Convention, which requires states to prevent and punish genocide once they know it is occurring. Canada’s leaders have known this for more than two years. They have simply chosen not to act.

Penalties for Russia, protection for Israel

Canada’s material response to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine was sweeping: sanctions, asset seizures, diplomatic isolation, trade embargoes, and billions of dollars in military and financial aid to Ukraine. Canada used every available tool to punish the aggressor and support the victim.

In Gaza, Canada has done the opposite. It has imposed no meaningful sanctions on Israel. It has not suspended trade. It has not applied Magnitsky sanctions to Israeli officials responsible for war crimes. It continues to sell Israel Canadian made military goods, despite a House of Commons resolution in March 2024 calling for Canada to halt military exports to Israel. Instead, Canada has offered symbolic gestures: conditional statements about Palestinian statehood, calls for “ceasefire,” and diplomatic language crafted to avoid offending Israel. These gestures are meaningless when Canada continues to arm the perpetrator.

Carney’s government even refused to force down flights carrying Benjamin Netanyahu as he passed through Canadian airspace — despite Carney’s public claim that Canada would enforce ICC arrest warrants. This is not neutrality. It is active protection of an indicted war criminal.

Canada’s actions under Carney demonstrate that its foreign policy is not guided by law but by geopolitical loyalty. Russia is an adversary, Israel is an ally. Ukrainians are white, Palestinians are not. The consequences follow accordingly.

Open doors for Ukrainian refugees, closed gates for Palestinians

Canada’s refugee response exposes the racism at the core of its foreign policy.

For Ukrainians, Canada created an uncapped emergency visa program. By April 2024 almost 300,000 Ukrainian refugees were admitted into the country with minimal restrictions. They received open work permits, study permits, and extended temporary status. Canada treated Ukrainian displacement as a humanitarian emergency requiring immediate, large‑scale action.

For Palestinians, Canada created a program that was initially capped at just 1,000 applicants — later nominally increased to 5,000—but with requirements so onerous that fewer than 1,000 have been approved since early 2024, and only a fraction have actually arrived. Applicants must prove family ties in Canada, navigate impossible security checks, and survive a bureaucratic maze designed to reject them.

This is not humanitarian action. It is discrimination, plain and simple. Canada’s refugee policy operates on a political presumption that Palestinians require extraordinary suspicion, extraordinary scrutiny, and extraordinary barriers before they can be granted even the most basic protection. The result is a system that treats Palestinian applicants as security risks to be filtered out rather than human beings fleeing mass atrocity. In contrast, Ukrainians were met with an open‑door policy that assumed urgency, innocence, and the need for immediate refuge. One group was welcomed with broad, accessible pathways; the other was confronted with narrow caps, impossible documentation requirements, and security checks so onerous they functioned as de facto exclusion. The message embedded in Canada’s policy architecture is unmistakable: some lives merit swift protection, while others are forced to prove their worthiness at every step.

Canada’s responses to the two conflicts reveal that the racism at work is not incidental or rhetorical. It is structural—built into the policies, assumptions, and institutional practices that determine whose lives are protected and whose suffering is politically expendable.

News media’s humanization for Ukraine and dehumanization for Gaza

Canadian news media coverage of Russia’s attack on Ukraine expressed unified moral outrage. They humanized Ukrainian victims, highlighted Russian atrocities, and framed the conflict in clear terms—aggressor and victim, lawbreaker and law‑abiding state.

But when it came to coverage of the Gaza genocide, Canada’s mainstream news media largely adopted narratives that sanitize Israeli violence. Independent outlets such as The Breach and The Maple have published extensive data‑driven analyses and investigative reports showing a consistent pro‑Israel bias and an anti‑Palestinian prejudice across establishment newsrooms. Civilian deaths are routinely framed as “collateral damage.” Starvation is reduced to “food shortages.” Bombed hospitals are recast as “hidden Hamas strongholds.” The pattern is not theoretical—it is documented. One major outlet, CTV News, went so far as to forbid its reporters from using the words “Palestinian” or “genocide,” while whistleblowers at CBC revealed how the public broadcaster tolerated discriminatory editorial practices around Palestinian stories and disciplined staff who challenged them. The cumulative effect is unmistakable—a media ecosystem that constrains truth, narrows public understanding, and reinforces a foreign‑policy that erases Palestinian suffering in real time.

This is not accidental. It reflects a longstanding structural bias within Canada’s mainstream news media establishment, where stories that critically examine Israeli state violence are routinely softened, sidelined, or shelved to avoid provoking politically charged—and often unfounded—accusations of “antisemitism.” The result is a media environment in which the boundaries of acceptable discourse are policed not by journalistic principle but by political fear.

Regardless of the facts on the ground, Canada’s major networks and newspapers consistently elevate narratives that minimize or obscure Israeli violations of international law while marginalizing or reframing pro‑Palestinian perspectives. This pattern has persisted for decades, shaping public understanding of the Palestinian reality and narrowing the space for honest reporting. But in the face of the Gaza genocide, the scale of this distortion has become impossible to ignore. The gap between the truth and mainstream media reporting is now so vast that it exposes the media’s role not as a neutral observer, but as an active participant in sustaining a foreign‑policy status quo that privileges Israel’s political comfort over the survival of the Palestinian people.

Canada is a “rule of law” nation in name only

Canada’s leaders claim to uphold the so called “rule of law.” But the rule of law is not a slogan, it is a practice, and Canada’s application of the rule of law, particularly in its foreign policy, is selective.

A rule‑of‑law nation does not:

• Refuse to name genocide when global human rights and legal bodies have already done so;
• Continue exporting weapons to a state committing mass atrocity;
• Shield war criminals from arrest;
• Impose sanctions on one criminal aggressor while protecting another;
• Welcome refugees from one conflict while excluding refugees from another;
• Apply international law only when the victims are white and Christian.

The fact is that Canada’s foreign policy is not principled. It is racist and Islamophobic. Additionally, as a result Canada’s actions relating to the Gaza genocide, Canada as a state and its leaders are criminally complicit in the genocidal crimes committed by Israel.

Mark Carney’s government cannot claim moral authority while enabling mass atrocity. It cannot claim to defend human rights while refusing to act against a state committing genocide. It cannot claim to uphold international law while violating its obligations under the Genocide Convention.

Canada’s response to Gaza is not a failure. It is a choice made by its leaders—a choice to protect Israel, a choice to abandon Palestinians, a choice to prioritize geopolitics over humanity, a choice to uphold racism over justice.

Unlike its claims otherwise Canada is not a rule‑of‑law nation. It is a nation that applies international law selectively, morality conditionally, and humanity hierarchically. And until it confronts its own hypocrisy and criminality, it will remain complicit in one of the greatest crimes of the 21st century.

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

Canada’s moral collapse on Gaza, and the dangerous rise of anti-Palestinian racism in Canada

Canada’s refusal to join South Africa’s genocide case against Israel is a diplomatic misstep, a profound moral failure, and a breach of Canada’s legal obligation under the Genocide Convention.

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

In late April and early May 2026, more than a dozen Canadian human rights activists — including Ko Tinmaung and Marie Tota — were abducted in international waters by Israeli forces while participating in the Global Sumud Flotilla, a civilian mission carrying desperately needed humanitarian aid to Gaza. Their boats, which were part of a 40 boat fleet crewed by over 400 activists, were intercepted more than 250 nautical miles from Gaza’s shores, far outside Israeli territorial waters, in what international law experts have described as an act of state piracy and a blatant violation of international law.

The Canadians were unarmed and posed no threat. Yet they were beaten, humiliated, sexually assaulted, and tortured. Their accounts mirror the testimony of scores of other flotilla participants and align with decades of documentation by Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, UN Special Rapporteurs, and Israeli human rights organizations.

Despite repeated requests from Canadian flotilla participants for meetings with Prime Minister Mark Carney and Foreign Affairs Minister Anita Anand — to speak directly about the torture they endured in Israeli custody and the mistreatment Tinmaung and Tota faced at Pearson International Airport upon their return — the government has shown a consistent unwillingness to meet with these brave Canadians.

Carney and Anand did condemn a grotesque video posted by Israeli National Security Minister Itamar Ben Gvir, in which he taunted abducted flotilla activists in custody. But beyond those social media statements — beyond the PR — the government has taken no action in response to the allegations of torture. No formal protest. No demand for accountability. No sanctions. No consular investigation. No meeting with the survivors or their families. No justice.

Thirteen Canadians were abducted and tortured by a foreign state, and one was left to drown in the Mediterranean in a boat severely damaged by Israeli military personnel, and yet Canada has done nothing.

This is not a diplomatic oversight. It is a moral failure — and a political choice.

We must ask why the Canadian government is refusing to meet survivors of Israeli torture.

The answer lies in Canada’s long‑standing political alignment with Israel. For decades, Canadian governments — Liberal and Conservative alike — have treated Israel not as a nation to be held accountable, but as an ally beyond reproach. Even as Israel has violated the United Nations Charter, the Geneva Conventions, and countless Security Council resolutions for decades, Canada has rarely wavered in its support, issuing only occasional slaps on the wrist.

Meeting torture survivors would force the government to confront the truth about how Israel is committing atrocities — including genocide — in Gaza. That conclusion has already been reached by the UN Commission of Inquiry, Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, B’Tselem, Physicians for Human Rights Israel, and the International Association of Genocide Scholars.  So Carney’s and Anand’s refusal is not about diplomacy. It is about denial.

Now let’s turn to the matter of why at least two of the Canadian flotilla activists were intimidated and threatened by security officials and police when they landed at Pearson International Airport.

When Tinmaung and Tota returned home, they expected to be reunited with their families at Toronto’s Pearson International Airport. Instead, they were met by customs officers, airport security, and Peel Regional Police who subjected them to aggressive interrogation, isolation, intimidation, and threats — conduct disturbingly similar to what former UN Special Rapporteurs Richard Falk and Hilal Elver described when they were detained and interrogated at Pearson in 2025 for their pro‑Palestinian advocacy.

Anti-Palestinian racism in Canada

This is not a coincidence. It reflects a deeper, long‑standing pattern of institutional anti‑Palestinian racism in Canada — one so entrenched that even as a genocide unfolds in plain sight, our political leaders still refuse to name the crime for what it is.

Reports from the Arab Canadian Lawyers Association, Canadians for Justice and Peace in the Middle East, York University, and The Conversation have documented systemic anti‑Palestinian racism across Canadian institutions — including policing, education, media, and government. This racism manifests as:

• Silencing Palestinian advocacy; 
  
• Treating Palestinians and their allies as security threats;
  
• Defaming activists as extremists or “terrorists”;
  
• Erasing the story of Palestinian suffering and oppression;
  
• Denying Palestinian humanity.

This is exactly what happened at Pearson Airport. Canadian authorities treated at least two of the torture survivors as threats, not victims. They were intimidated, isolated, detained for hours, with Tinmaung threated with with being charged as a “threat to public safety”, before being pressured to leave the airport on terms set by police and security officials without seeing their families — a violation of their rights and a chilling message to all pro‑Palestinian activists.

This begs the question, how deep does anti‑Palestinian racism run in Canada’s political class?

The answer is it runs deep enough that the Canadian government still refuses to acknowledge the Gaza genocide — even as the United Nations, Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, B’Tselem, Physicians for Human Rights Israel, leading genocide scholars, along with hundreds of human rights and legal scholars, have concluded that Israel is committing genocide. It runs deep enough that Canada has condemned genocide in Myanmar, China, and by Russia in Ukraine — but not in Gaza.  It is deep enough that the  government warns that calling Israel’s actions “genocide” might provoke antisemitism, rather than confronting the reality of mass murder, starvation, and ethnic cleansing. Anti-Palestinian racism is so entrenched that Canada (conditionally) recognized the State of Palestine in 2025 — but still refuses to hold Israel accountable for destroying it.

Anti‑Palestinian racism is not a fringe phenomenon. It is embedded in Canadian political culture.

Despite decades of Israeli crimes Canadian leaders still defend them

The record of Israeli crimes over the decades is overwhelming:

• Illegal occupation and annexation of Palestinian land;
  
• Decades of a campaign of ethnic cleansing
  
• Systematic violations of the Geneva Conventions for almost eight decades;
  
• War crimes including collective punishment, targeting civilians, and starvation as a weapon of war;
  
• Apartheid, as documented by Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and B’Tselem;
  
• Genocide, as concluded by UN experts, major human rights organizations, and genocide scholars.
  
• Yet Canada continues to defend Israel or remain silent. The million‑dollar question is why.

Because Canadian foreign policy in the Middle East has been shaped for decades by pro‑Israel lobby groups such as the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs (CIJA) and B’nai Brith Canada — organizations documented as promoting anti‑Palestinian racism, Islamophobia, genocide denial, and the conflation of anti‑Zionism and criticism of Israel with antisemitism.

CIJA’s own conferences have pushed the government to adopt definitions of antisemitism that silence criticism of Israel. Their lobbying efforts have influenced every major political party, convincing party leaders to adopt policies that effectively silence pro‑Palestinian voices within their membership. This influence is so strong that Canada’s political class often appears more accountable to CIJA, which acts as an agent of the Israeli government, than to international law.

Canada refuses to support South Africa’s genocide case against Israel

However, there are nations in the world with a moral compass that are standing on the right side of history and pursuing justice for Palestinians.  One of those nations is South Africa, which launched a genocide case against Israel at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) in December 2023 over its brutal military assault on the people in Gaza.

Regrettably, and over the objections of many Canadians, the federal government has refused to join South Africa and 20 other nations supporting their case, including NATO allies Belgium, Netherlands, Spain and Turkiye. Instead, Canada has dismissed the case as lacking merit despite the ICJ stating that it was plausible that Israel was committing genocide in a January 2024 preliminary ruling.

Canada’s refusal to join South Africa is not just a diplomatic misstep — it is a profound moral failure. It is also a breach of Canada’s clear legal obligation under the Genocide Convention to prevent genocide wherever it occurs. The decision is so indefensible that it raises an unavoidable, unsettling question — has Canadian Middle East policy become so deferential to Israel that Ottawa might as well be taking instructions directly from it? While that is not literally the case, the pattern is impossible to ignore. Again and again, Canada’s positions on the Middle East — especially where Palestinians and their rights are concerned — line up almost seamlessly with those of the apartheid state.

Canada may not take its marching orders directly from Israel, but it unquestionably takes its political cues from a familiar constellation of forces — pro‑Israel lobby groups, a political culture that treats Israel as beyond criticism, and a foreign‑policy establishment that reliably elevates strategic alliances over basic human rights, while wilfully ignoring obligations under international law.

This country’s deference becomes even starker when we examine whom our officials choose to engage with most often on issues related to Israel and Palestinians. CIJA, for one, is among the most active lobbying organizations in Ottawa — a fact reflected in the federal Lobbyist Registry. Its influence is unmistakable as the organization enjoys frequent access to ministers and MPs, helps shape policy priorities, and exerts significant influence over the Canadian narrative on issues affecting Palestinians. Yet multiple Jewish scholars and human‑rights organizations have documented how pro‑Israel organizations have promoted harmful stereotypes about Palestinians and Muslims, marginalized dissenting Jewish voices, and defended Israeli actions described by critics as grave violations of international law.

So when Canadian officials make time for these groups while refusing to meet with Canadian victims of Israeli torture, the message is unmistakable — some lives count and others do not.

What kind of nation do Canadians want this country to be?

Canadians must decide what kind of country we want to be and convey that forcefully to our leaders. Canada cannot claim to champion human rights yet ignore the torture of its own citizens, nor wrap itself in the language of justice while turning its back on Canadians tortured by a foreign state. It cannot profess to oppose genocide while refusing to acknowledge one unfolding in real time, or claim to fight racism while enabling the most entrenched and politically sanctioned form of racism in this country — anti‑Palestinian racism.

Tinmaung, Tota, and the eleven other Canadians abducted and tortured by Israel deserve justice — not silence, platitudes, or carefully crafted political statements that maintain a business as usual attitude with the genocidal state. They deserve a government that recognizes their humanity, and that of Palestinians, without reservation. Canadians deserve leaders who confront atrocities committed by allies — not ones who decide which victims matter and which to sacrifice on the altar of political expediency.

History will judge Mark Carney and Justin Trudeau for their morally bankrupt response to the Gaza genocide and for how their governments treated Canadians who stood on the side of justice for Palestinians. That judgment will not be kind. On the most basic questions of human rights, international law, and the duty to protect the innocent, both men failed — and they failed by choice.

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

Trump declared war on Canada upon taking office, and this country isn't prepared for the coming US invasion

The threat is not abstract or confined to some distant future, but is immediate and demands a fundamental recalibration of Canadian defence and foreign policy before it's too late. 

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

Since Donald Trump assumed the American presidency for his second term in January 2025, the United States has pursued a calculated campaign of economic coercion, rhetorical intimidation, and internal destabilization against Canada.  These actions amount to an undeclared war that erodes Canadian sovereignty without crossing into open military confrontation (yet).  Far from the traditional alliance built on shared defence and trade, the US-Canada relationship has been transformed into one of predation under Trump’s administration, where American power is leveraged to weaken and eventually absorb its northern neighbour. 

This is not mere speculation but a pattern evident in exorbitant tariffs on key exports, baseless accusations linking Canada to fentanyl flows into the US, allegations of Canada’s lax border insecurity, and public musings about Canada becoming the 51st state.  Regrettably the Canadian government’s hesitation in decisively and aggressively responding fuels public anxiety and highlight the urgency of the situation.

The tactics employed by Trump bear a striking resemblance to Adolf Hitler’s approach to Austria in the years leading to the 1938 Anschluss.  Hitler did not launch an immediate invasion, instead, he waged a war of nerves—a multi-year strategy of coercion, intimidation and subversion—often described as a “cold Anschluss.”  Through an aggressive propaganda campaign he portrayed Austria as a natural part of a greater German realm, funded and encouraged sympathetic factions within Austria to agitate for unification, applied economic leverage to create dependency and crisis, and issued ultimatums to the Austrian Chancellor.  This forced concessions that culminated in a rapid and essentially unopposed German troop crossing on March 12, 1938, after the Austrian government had already collapsed.  The result was a bloodless annexation that Hitler framed as inevitable and mutually beneficial.

Trump’s strategy follows a parallel script to Hitler’s.  During his speech at the World Economic Forum in Davos he made claims that Canada survives only through American benevolence, while his administration coordinates with groups advocating Alberta’s separation in a manner reminiscent of Nazi Germany's support for annexationist factions in Austria.  Punitive tariffs on automobiles, aluminum, steel, and lumber have been imposed and been increased, with explicit warnings of 100 percent tariffs should Canada pursue independent trade ties with China.  Additionally, he has made public statements have demeaning Canada's leaders by referring to former Prime Minister Justin Trudeau and current PM Mark Carney “governor”, and has threatened infrastructure projects like the Gordie Howe Bridge between Windsor and Detroit, unless Canada offers concessions.  These steps systematically undermine Canada's economic stability and national cohesion, softening resistance ahead of potential absorption, just as Hitler’s incremental pressures dismantled Austrian independence and stability before the final march across the border.

Canadians themselves have registered this shift in threat perception with remarkable clarity.  Multiple independent surveys conducted in late 2025 and early 2026 reveal that a majority now consider the US as the foremost danger to national security in the eyes of the public, eclipsing long-standing concerns about China or Russia.  One Nanos poll found that 55% of respondents identified the US as the greatest security threat, making it 3.5 times more likely to be named than China, and significantly ahead of Russia at 14%. 

Another survey indicated that 49% of Canadians view the United States as the single greatest threat to world peace, outpacing Russia by 20 points.  Even more alarmingly, polling in early 2026 showed that 57. 9% of Canadians consider a direct American military invasion plausible in the near term.  These figures mark a historic reversal, because for generations, the US was seen as a dependable partner.  Today, ordinary citizens across the political spectrum express fears of economic strangulation or worse, with many reporting increased interest in personal preparedness measures in the event of an American military assault.  The polling numbers demonstrate that Canadians no longer regard traditional adversaries as the primary risk.  The clear and present danger to Canada at this time emanates from Washington DC.

Compounding the danger is the evident lack of readiness within Canadian government and public institutions to respond to a American military incursion.  Senior officials within the Carney government continue to frame bilateral ties in terms of a longstanding and unbreakable partnership, insisting on cooperation despite aggressive US measures aimed at key economic sectors and territorial claims.  Comments about defence and security prioritize ongoing NORAD and NATO operations over standalone contingency measures to the US threat, and diplomatic statements emphasize outreach efforts that overlook the long-term impact of prolonged American trade pressures and internal division tactics.  To date, no comprehensive public strategies have emerged for strengthening Canada's border with the US, prioritizing military preparedness, or implementing protective economic policies to endure extended coercion or possible military action by the US.

Of particular concern is the absence of any framework to counter a scenario in which the US applies the same approach used in Venezuela—leveraging economic and political pressures, followed by military action to orchestrate a change in leadership more aligned with Trump's agenda.  The recent US military strike and regime realignment there serve as a clear precedent for how resource-driven imperialism can force governmental change without full-scale conventional war, through sanctions, support for sympathetic factions, and strategic ultimatums.

In Canada, there are no apparent protocols to detect or neutralize comparable influence campaigns, such as the Trump regime coordinating with Alberta separatists, or amplifying calls for structural changes that could install more compliant political figures sympathetic to the US administration’s agenda.  As Adam Gordon, a visiting fellow at the Cascade Institute and former senior legal and policy adviser to Canadian foreign affairs ministers, warned in the wake of the Venezuela operation, “We can’t take off the table anymore the idea that it is at least plausible that there would be some use of force or threat of use of force, and we need to be prepared for that.”

This shortfall in Canadian preparedness propagates a dangerous complacency.  Vague statements by Carney or his ministers offer only broad assurances of national strength without specifying actionable defences for the population or key infrastructure.  Canadians are left with no evident strategy to safeguard territorial sovereignty or personal security, heightening feelings of exposure.

Experts are sounding alarms that are going unheeded, with international security scholar Aisha Ahmad of the University of Toronto stating bluntly that, “There is no political party, or leader, willing to relinquish Canadian sovereignty over economic coercion, and so if the US wanted to annex Canada, it would have to invade.” She added that, “Trump is delusional if he believes that 40 million Canadians will passively accept conquest without resistance.”

American political analyst Eric Ham echoed this in direct reference to the Venezuela precedent, calling it “a clear warning shot” for Canada and urging immediate recognition that Trump’s territorial ambitions extend northward.  Urgent steps, from expanding independent intelligence operations and securing new international partnerships to accelerating domestic production capabilities and even considering measures once unthinkable—mandatory military service, a hardened land border, acquiring nuclear weapons—are essential to avoid the fate of states that dismissed early warning signs until external forces dictated their leadership and future.

The broader international behaviour of the Trump regime underscores the gravity of the situation.  In rapid succession, the United States has launched an unprovoked war against Iran, increased the blockade of Cuba by blocking tankers from delivering essential fuel supplies, advanced explicit ambitions to assert control over Greenland and the Panama Canal under a revived hemispheric dominance doctrine, and executed military action leading to regime change in Venezuela.  These operations demonstrate a pattern of unilateral force and territorial appetite that treats smaller or neighbouring states as vassals that exist to serve the economic and security agenda of the US.

These actions illustrate that Canada is not dealing with a rational negotiating partner but a leader whose style is marked by sociopathic behaviour, erratic escalation, disregard for established norms, and a willingness to upend alliances for perceived economic and political gain.  Facing such unpredictability requires immediate recognition that traditional diplomacy with the US offers little protection, and that preparation must treat the possibility of further escalation as a realistic contingency rather than a remote hypothetical.

Independent assessments by security scholars and economists echo and amplify these concerns, consistently positioning the Trump administration as a more acute danger to Canada than either Beijing or Moscow.  Janice Gross Stein, a leading professor of conflict management at the University of Toronto, has analyzed the 2025 US National Security Strategy as a deliberate return to 19th-century spheres-of-influence thinking that explicitly challenges Canadian control over its Arctic waters and resources, framing it as incompatible with American hemispheric priorities.

Michael Devereux, an economics professor at the University of British Columbia, observes that longstanding assumptions of reliability have collapsed.  “We’ve always seen the US as a very strong and reliable ally.  That has really been undermined in the last year.”  Aaron Ettinger, a political-science professor at Carleton University, warns that bilateral ties have reached a dangerous “precipice,” where continued provocations risk irreversible damage to sovereignty and economic stability. 

These voices, drawn from academic and policy circles, converge on a sobering conclusion—the US threat is not abstract or confined to some distant future, but is immediate and structural, demanding a fundamental recalibration of Canadian defence and foreign policy before it's too late.

All the evidence available since Trump took office in 2025—from targeted economic sabotage and propaganda mirroring pre-Anschluss Austria, through public opinion data that now ranks the US as the top security threat above all other powers, the administration’s record of aggressive interventions elsewhere, to the absence of credible Canadian defensive planning—paints a coherent picture of hostile intent towards a nation that has been America’s closest friend, neighbour, biggest trading partner, and strongest ally.

In the face of what is on the horizon Canadians cannot afford denial or delay.  The window for building resilience, forging new alliances, and hardening national defences is narrowing.  History shows that nations which fail to confront incremental aggression early pay a far higher price later.  The time to acknowledge the reality and act decisively is now, before Trump’s rhetoric becomes reality and economic blackmail gives way to something far more dangerous and violent.

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

To protect Canadian sovereignty from US belligerence Carney must cancel the F-35 fighter jet deal

If Prime Minister Mark Carney meant what he said in his Davos speech rejecting the F-35 deal is the logical decision. The financial stakes are immense, and the cost of inaction endangers Canada.
 

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

In the shadow of escalating US threats to Canadian sovereignty, the New Democratic Party’s recent demand for Prime Minister Mark Carney to scrap the $19 billion F-35 fighter jet contract with Lockheed Martin has ignited a crucial national debate. The NDP is not merely suggesting a pivot. They are insisting on cancelling all 88 jets, including the 16 to which Canada is already committed, in favour of Sweden’s Saab Gripen.

This call comes amid a barrage of American provocations, from tariff threats on Canadian aircraft to repeated musings by President Donald Trump about annexing Canada as the “51st state.” As Canada grapples with these realities, it is imperative to recognize that procuring advanced defence hardware from a nation increasingly hostile to its allies poses an existential risk to its territorial integrity and independence. In such a scenario the NDP says that Canada must abandon the F-35 program completely to avoid entrusting its air defences to a partner that could disable them at will through software controls or a de facto kill switch.

The post-World War Two era of stable US-Canada relations, built on mutual trust and shared democratic values, is unequivocally over. For decades, Canada benefited from this alliance, contributing to NATO missions, protecting North American skies under NORAD, and enjoying the security umbrella provided by American military might. But under Trump’s second administration, that partnership has devolved into coercion and intimidation. Just days before the NDP’s announcement, Trump threatened to decertify the approximately 2,600 Bombardier jets operating in the US, and impose a 50% tariff on Canadian-made aircraft, ostensibly because Canada did not certify certain American made Gulfstream models swiftly enough. This threat against Canada’s aviation industry was no isolated incident. It followed punitive tariffs on Canadian steel, aluminum, and softwood lumber that often bypass the protections of the Canada-US-Mexico Agreement (CUSMA), which Trump negotiated in his first administration.

But Trump’s rhetoric has escalated further. Since returning to the White House he has repeatedly floated the idea of annexing Canada as the 51st state, a notion he has invoked in speeches and on social media posts, framing it as a “joke” that thinly veils aggressive intent. Such statements are not harmless. They signal a fundamental shift where the US views its northern neighbour not as an equal ally but as a subordinate entity ripe for economic domination or outright absorption.

This erosion of trust extends to the heart of defence procurement. The F-35 is not merely a fighter jet, it is a sophisticated network-dependent platform with its operational effectiveness dependent on US-controlled software and data systems. Central to this are the Mission Data Files which serve as the aircraft’s “brains,” providing critical information on threat identification, route planning, and combat communication. These files are managed by a US team at Eglin Air Force Base in Florida and require frequent updates, especially in conflict scenarios. American policy explicitly prohibits international operators from performing independent updates outside the continental United States, with Israel being the sole exception. For Canada (and other nations that buy the aircraft) this means total dependency, and without friendly relations with the US our F-35s could fly but would be rendered ineffective against threats, much like a smartphone starved of updates the aircraft would be vulnerable and obsolete.

Defence analysts have long warned of this “all the eggs in one basket” scenario, which is a set up for failure. The F-35’s Autonomic Logistics Information System funnels all data through US servers in Fort Worth, Texas, managed by Lockheed Martin. In a belligerent situation—such as escalated disputes over tariffs or border issues—the US could withhold updates, restrict access, or even implement a metaphorical “kill switch” to degrade the aircraft’s capabilities. This is not speculative fiction, it echoes restrictions placed on Ukraine’s use of F-16s against Russia, where the US limited operational freedoms to avoid escalation of the war. For Canada to invest $19 billion upfront—and a staggering $74 billion over the F-35’s life cycle—in a system that the US could neuter, is not strategic, it is suicidal.

Canada is not alone in having these concerns. Across NATO, allies are re-evaluating their reliance on American systems amid Trump’s erratic policies. Denmark, for instance, has expressed profound regret over its F-35 purchase. Rasmus Jarlov, chairman of Denmark’s parliamentary defence committee, publicly lamented the decision, fearing the US could disable the jets by halting spare parts supplies to coerce concessions over Greenland—a territory Trump has obsessively targeted for annexation, even threatening the use of force. Trump has also threatened tariffs on NATO allies opposing US control of Greenland, further straining the alliance. European officials have echoed these worries, suggesting contract cancellations if the US mirrors its restrictions on Ukraine’s fighters. Germany’s $10 billion deal for 35 F-35s is currently under scrutiny, and projections of over 550 European F-35s by decade’s end now seem precarious as trust evaporates.

Trump has also disparaged NATO troops’ contributions in Afghanistan and questioned the alliance’s mutual defence commitments. This has prompted a cascade of doubt. If the US can abandon commitments to Ukraine or threaten Denmark over Greenland, what prevents it from leveraging F-35 dependencies against Canada or other NATO allies over trade disputes? The stable alliance that defined the post-war order—where the US was the reliable guarantor—has been weaponized into a tool of coercion. As Prime Minister Carney articulated at the World Economic Forum in Davos, we are amid a “rupture, not a transition,” where middle powers like Canada must unite against great power rivalry and weaponized economic integration. Carney’s call for “strategic autonomy” resonates and shows that middle powers are not powerless. They can build alternatives that embody values like sovereignty and solidarity.

Enter the Saab Gripen as a viable path forward. Unlike the F-35, the Gripen offers operational sovereignty, with no requirement for permission on updates or mission planning. Saab’s proposal includes intellectual property transfer and assembly in Canada, enabling independent maintenance and upgrades. This deal promises up to 12,600 high value added jobs bolstering the Canadian aerospace sector while reducing dependency. By switching to the Gripen, Canada would signal to allies like Australia, Japan, and South Korea that alternatives exist, potentially unravelling US military hardware export dominance worth hundreds of billions.

Critics may argue that the F-35’s stealth capabilities are superior, but technical edge means little if political whims can result in the fleet being inoperable. Canada’s situation is symbolic, and the NDP’s demand followed Carney’s Davos speech, echoing his language on middle powers collaborating. If Carney meant what he said, rejecting the F-35 deal is the logical step. The financial stakes are immense—$74 billion committed to a multi-generational dependency—but the cost of inaction is higher. A compromised air defence network in an era where the US could sabotage the air force fleets of Canada if needed leaving this country vulnerable to American aggression.

Ultimately, Canada can no longer afford to trust the US as a steadfast ally. The threats of tariffs, annexation rhetoric, and potential control over our air defence hardware demands a decisive break from business as usual. Cancelling the F-35 contract, beyond the initial 16 jets at the least, and embracing Sweden’s Gripen is not anti-American, it is pro-Canadian, ensuring our sovereignty and territorial integrity. As Carney warned, if middle powers do not act together, they risk being on the menu.

Ottawa must heed the NDP’s urgent call to decisively change course on Canada’s fighter jet procurement, scrapping the F-35 program beyond the initial 16 jets and committing instead to the Saab Gripen to secure genuine operational independence. This is not merely a policy adjustment—it is an essential act of national self-preservation. The time for complacency is emphatically over. The defence of Canada now demands the immediate establishment of true independence in military procurement from the United States, an ally whose trust has been irreparably fractured by relentless threats, economic coercion, and annexation rhetoric that has been unseen in Canada-US relations since the 19th century.

In this new era of great-power belligerence, where Canada risks becoming a vassal state rather than a sovereign partner, strategic autonomy is no longer optional. It is the only path to safeguarding this nation’s territorial integrity, air sovereignty, and future as a free and independent nation. It’s time to fly on our own wings or Canada is sure to be grounded by a leash held by a belligerent neighbour.

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