Mark Carney and Justin Trudeau: The morally bankrupt leaders who ignored the Gaza genocide

Trudeau's and Carney's refusal to acknowledge that genocide is taking place in Gaza is factually indefensible and politically grotesque.  

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

When Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney declared in mid-May that the treatment of civilians aboard the Sumud Flotilla to Gaza—kidnapped in international waters by Israeli forces—was “abominable”, he revealed far more about his government than he intended. His statement was meant to project moral outrage, to signal that Canada still possesses a moral compass. Instead, it exposed a government that has lost its ethical bearings entirely. Because if Carney truly believed that the abuse of civilians was “abominable,” he would have said so long before a video of Itamar Ben‑Gvir taunting bound activists forced his hand.

But Carney did not, and the reason is simple. Carney has no moral compass, especially when it comes to how Palestinians, Muslims and Arabs are treated, whether by a foreign government or by his own administration in Canada.

Mark Carney only entered politics in early 2025, after Justin Trudeau announced his resignation as Liberal leader. Before that, Carney spent decades in elite financial institutions—Goldman Sachs, the Bank of Canada, the Bank of England—where he cultivated a reputation for technocratic competence and global statesmanship. Yet in all those years, through Israel’s decades-long brutal occupation of Gaza and the West Bank, its ethnic cleansing of Palestinians, its repeated assaults on the Gaza Strip, and finally its ongoing genocide, Carney never made a public comment. Not a word about the siege. Not a word about the occupation. Not a word about apartheid. Not a word about the mass killing of Palestinians. And this is for the most part understandable given the trajectory of his career.

However, his silence was not accidental, but it was revealing. It was the silence of a man who had never needed to confront the consequences of Western power, who had never needed to reckon with the violence that Western powers inflicted on the world’s most vulnerable, under the guise of maintaining an “international rules based order.” And so when he entered politics, his silence became a part of Canadian government policy.

Trudeau’s legacy of weakness and denial

However, this wasn’t new policy. Carney inherited this moral vacuum from former Prime Minister Justin Trudeau, whose own record on Israel and Palestine was defined by weakness, evasion, and denial. Trudeau made occasional statements expressing “concern” about Israeli atrocities in Gaza and the West Bank, but these were always carefully calibrated to avoid offending Israel or the US.  Ultimately they were meaningless because he condemned very little of Israel’s criminal acts, recognized even less, and took no action to uphold international law or hold Israel accountable.

And at the end of his prime ministership, Trudeau finally said the quiet part out loud—he declared himself to be a Zionist. With that admission, everything became clear. His refusal to condemn Israel’s actions was not diplomatic caution, it was ideological alignment. His refusal to recognize genocide was not uncertainty, it was political loyalty to a foreign state. His government’s unwavering support for Israel, even as the death toll in Gaza climbed into the tens of thousands, was not a lack of courage, it was a deliberate choice and admission that Trudeau was an anti-Palestinian racist.

When Carney became prime minister he simply continued Trudeau’s policy of denial, complicity, and moral collapse.

Choosing not to see genocide in Gaza

Since it started both Trudeau and Carney refused to acknowledge that genocide was taking place in Gaza.  This denial is not only factually indefensible, it is politically grotesque. Because the list of institutions, experts, and humanitarian organizations that have declared Israel’s assault on Gaza’s population as genocidal is unprecedented in modern history.

Among the organizations and individuals recognizing that Israel is committing the crime of genocide as defined under Genocide Convention are:

• the UN Independent Commission of Inquiry;
• the UN Special Committee;
• the UN Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights;
• the UN Special Rapporteur for the Occupied Palestinian Territories;
• the former UN Humanitarian Chief;
• Amnesty International;
• Human Rights Watch;
• Israeli human rights group B’Tselem;
• Physicians for Human Rights Israel;
• Doctors Without Borders;
• Oxfam;
• Save the Children;
• Action Aid;
• Action on Armed Violence;
• the International Federation of Human Rights;
• the International Association of Genocide Scholars (IAGS);
• Melanie O’Brien, president of the IAGS;
• Dirk Moses, editor of the Journal of Genocide Research;
• Martin Shaw, author of What Is Genocide?;
• Leading Israeli Holocaust scholars: Omer Bartov, Amos Goldberg, Daniel Blatman, Raz Segal, Shmuel Lederman;
• the Norwegian Refugee Council;
• the Danish Refugee Council;
• Refugees International;
• the International Rescue Committee;
• Moshe Yaalon, former head of Israel’s military;
• Amiram Levin, former deputy head of Mossad;
• Ehud Olmert, former Prime Minister of Israel; and
• the 30 nations supporting South Africa’s genocide case against Israel at the International Court of Justice.

This list is not merely long—it is overwhelming. It represents the broadest consensus on genocide since Rwanda. Yet Canada, a nation that claims to champion human rights, has rejected all of it.

Canada is violating its international legal obligations

Under the Genocide Convention, Canada is obligated not only to prevent genocide but to punish those who participate in it. Under the Fourth Geneva Convention, Canada must act to stop grave breaches, including collective punishment, targeting civilians, and starvation as a method of warfare. Under the UN Charter, Canada must uphold international peace and security and oppose violations of international humanitarian law.

Instead, Canada continues to:

• Sell weapons and weapons components to Israel;
• Provide diplomatic cover for Israel;
• Refuse to sanction Israeli officials responsible for mass atrocities;
• Reject international legal findings of genocide; and
• Attack Canadian human rights advocates who speak out.

This is not neutrality. It is complicity.

Carney’s Hypocrisy Is Impossible to Ignore

Carney’s condemnation of Ben‑Gvir was not wrong. Ben‑Gvir is a racist extremist who celebrated his birthday with a cake emblazoned with a noose, who raised a champagne glass when the Knesset advanced a death‑penalty bill that applies only to Palestinians, and who has repeatedly called for the mass expulsion of Palestinians from their homeland. But Carney’s selective outrage is revealing. Ben‑Gvir is not an outlier; he is the distilled expression of a much wider system of apartheid, ethnic cleansing, and genocidal violence in Israeli society — a society where a 2025 poll showed that 47% of Jewish Israelis supported the Gaza genocide. Singling him out for sanctions while continuing to arm the state he serves is not moral leadership. It is political posturing, a gesture designed to look principled while avoiding the far more consequential act of holding Israel itself accountable.

If Carney truly believed Ben‑Gvir’s actions were “unacceptable,” he would sanction the entire Israeli government and military leadership. He would halt all weapons exports immediately. He would prosecute Canadians who have joined the Israeli military and participated in war crimes. He would recognize the genocide that the rest of the world has already named.

He has done none of these things.

Historically, Canada avoided pursuing war criminals

There is a myth in Canada that the country has a proud and robust history of prosecuting war criminals. It is a comforting story, one that allows Canadians to imagine themselves as steadfast defenders of human rights and international justice. But the moment this narrative is examined with even minimal scrutiny, it collapses. In truth, Canada has not made much effort to hunt down war criminals since World War Two, and its record is defined far more by avoidance, delay, and half‑measures than by genuine accountability.

For decades, Canada preferred to look away rather than confront perpetrators of atrocity, just as it is doing with Israel. Instead of launching serious investigations, pursuing criminal trials, or building the legal capacity to prosecute genocidal criminals, Canada has relied on bureaucratic tools—denaturalization and deportation—that allow the government to quietly remove individuals without ever proving guilt in court. These measures create the appearance of action while avoiding actual prosecution. Far from being a global leader in accountability, Canada’s war‑crimes record is a story of institutional reluctance, political timidity, and systemic inertia. It is a record that reveals a country far more committed to protecting its own political convenience than to upholding the principles of international law it claims to champion.

Following the Second World War Canada prosecuted a small number of Nazi war criminals immediately afterwards—almost all of them POWs already in Canadian custody. After 1948, however, Canada entered a 30‑year period of complete inactivity. During the 1950s through the 1980s, hundreds of suspected Nazi collaborators entered Canada, yet the government made no serious attempt to locate, investigate, or criminally prosecute them.

The 1985 Deschênes Commission confirmed what survivors and human‑rights advocates had long known: Canada had never meaningfully prosecuted Nazi war criminals domestically, despite ample evidence and decades of opportunity. The few criminal trials attempted in the 1990s—including the high‑profile case of Imre Finta—ended in acquittals, after which Canada effectively abandoned domestic prosecution altogether.

The rare exception of Rwandan génocidaires

Canada’s record of domestic war‑crimes prosecution is remarkably thin, and its only true success stands out precisely because it is so rare. The single case in which Canada managed to secure a conviction under the Crimes Against Humanity and War Crimes Act was the prosecution of Désiré Munyaneza, a Rwandan génocidaire found guilty in 2009. His conviction was historic: the first time Canada used the principle of universal jurisdiction to try an individual for genocide, crimes against humanity, and war crimes committed abroad. Munyaneza’s trial demonstrated that Canada could hold perpetrators of mass atrocity accountable when it chose to invest the political will, legal expertise, and prosecutorial resources required.

But Munyaneza’s case was the exception, not the beginning of a sustained effort. The only other attempt at a domestic war‑crimes trial under the same legislation—Jacques Mungwarere—ended in acquittal in 2013. After that, Canada effectively retreated from the field. No further domestic prosecutions followed, and no institutional momentum emerged to build on the precedent set. Instead of developing a robust system capable of confronting atrocity, Canada returned to its longstanding reliance on administrative measures.  The result is a war‑crimes record defined not by a legacy of accountability, but by one conviction surrounded by decades of institutional reluctance.

Canada’s support for Israel is built on lies

For decades, Canadian governments have insisted that Canada is a defender of human rights, a champion of international law, and a guardian of the rules‑based order. But these claims collapse under the weight of scrutiny, and certainly as we witness Canada’s lack of action around the Gaza genocide.

Canada cannot claim to defend human rights while arming a genocidal state. Canada cannot claim to uphold international law while ignoring the world’s legal findings. Canada cannot claim to support peace while enabling mass slaughter.

The Carney government’s position is not simply hypocritical—it is morally bankrupt, as was that of Justin Trudeau’s government

What is truly “unacceptable”

When he saw the video of Israeli minister Ben-Gvir taunting the imprisoned activists from the Sumud Flotilla he used the word “unacceptable” in reaction to what he saw. But what is truly unacceptable is Canada’s complicity. What is unacceptable is the refusal to name genocide. What is unacceptable is the sale of Canadian weapons to a state committing mass atrocities. What is unacceptable is the betrayal of international law. What is unacceptable is the dehumanization of Palestinians through complicity.

Carney’s government has failed the most basic test of moral leadership—the ability to recognize human suffering and act to stop it. Instead, Canada has become a bystander to genocide, and worse, an enabler of the crime of crimes.

History will not forget this moment. And it will not forgive those who chose silence, denial, and complicity over justice.

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

Trump’s wildfire blame game is an ignorant reaction to a friend dealing with tragedy

Canada is throwing everything it has—every plane, every firefighter, every resource—at a fire season that is historically unprecedented.  

By Fareed Khan

A version of this article can be found on Substack.

When United States President Donald Trump declared that Canada was “mismanaging” its forests and therefore responsible for the smoke drifting into the United States, he did more than display a misunderstanding of basic science. He revealed a profound ignorance about the natural world, the scale of Canada’s geography, and the limits of human power in the face of climate‑driven catastrophe. His threat to impose tariffs unless Canada “gets its wildfires under control” is not merely foolish—it is a reckless distortion of reality that undermines one of America’s closest allies.

Let’s be clear. No government on Earth can prevent or control wildfires across a landmass as vast, remote, and ecologically complex as Canada’s northern forests. To suggest otherwise is to advertise a dangerous level of stupidity about how nature works.

A forest the size of a continent

Canada’s boreal forest region is not a national park with paved access roads and ranger stations. It is the largest intact forest ecosystem on the planet, stretching more than 4,800 kilometres (3,000 miles) from Canada’s border with Alaska to the shores of Newfoundland on the North Atlantic. It covers 5.6 million square kilometres (2.3 million square miles)—roughly 80% of the size of the entire lower 48 American states, or 140% of the landmass of the European Union.

This is a wilderness so vast that large portions have never been walked by human beings. There are no highways, no towns, no infrastructure, and no practical way to “manage” the forest in the simplistic way Trump implies. To accuse Canada of “poor management” of an ecosystem this large is absurd. It is like blaming the US government for failing to “manage” the Pacific Ocean.

Wildfires in this region are not caused by bureaucratic negligence. They are caused by the same forces that have shaped the boreal forest for millennia—lightning, drought, heat, wind, and climate change.

Lightning doesn’t ask permission

In just the past several days, the Government of Canada’s Lightning Detection Network has recorded more than 14,000 lightning strikes across northern Ontario and southern Manitoba—each one a potential ignition source when the forest floor is parched. Lightning is responsible for most of the large wildfires in Canada’s boreal region, a reality no government can prevent any more than it can command rainfall or reverse drought conditions driven by climate change.

Canada is experiencing one of the driest, hottest summers in recorded history. The Canadian Wildland Fire Information System reports that fire danger levels across multiple provinces are at “extreme”, driven by record‑low precipitation and high winds. These are climate‑driven conditions, not political ones.

To blame Canada’s government for the smoke drifting into the United States is like blaming firefighters for the direction of the wind.

Canada is throwing everything it has at the fires

Trump’s comments ignore the scale of the response Canada has already mobilized. According to federal and provincial emergency agencies:

• More than 6,000 firefighters are currently deployed nationwide, including crews from every province and territory.
• Over 200 aircraft, including Canada’s world‑renowned water bombers, are engaged in suppression operations across the country
• International assistance has been requested and received from the United States, Australia, New Zealand, France, South Africa, and Mexico.
• The Canadian Armed Forces have been deployed to support evacuations, logistics, and ground operations.
• Thousands of volunteers and emergency workers are risking their lives daily in some of the most dangerous terrain on Earth.

In other words, Canada is not sitting idle nor “mismanaging” anything. Canada is throwing everything it has—every plane, every firefighter, every resource—at a fire season that is historically unprecedented. And yet the fires still rage because nature is bigger than governments.

A forest fire is not a house fire

Perhaps the most useful way to illustrate the absurdity of Trump’s claim is through analogy.

When a house catches fire, firefighters arrive within minutes. They have hydrants, hoses, ladders, and roads. They can surround the structure, attack the flames from multiple angles, and extinguish the fire within hours. The area is small. The access is easy. The resources are concentrated.

Now imagine a fire the size of Delaware, or Connecticut, or Vermont. Imagine that fire burning in terrain with no roads, no hydrants, no communications infrastructure, and no safe access points. Imagine flames over 30 metres high (over 100 feet) moving at 20 kilometres per hour (12 mph) through dense forest, driven by winds that shift unpredictably. Imagine smoke so thick that aircraft cannot fly and temperatures so high that water dropped from planes evaporates before it hits the ground.

That is what Canadian firefighters are facing.

To demand that Canada “put out the fires” is to demand the impossible. It is to demand that human beings overpower the combined forces of drought, heat, lightning, wind, and climate change.  Only a fool would make such a demand.

Canada has always stood with the US

Trump’s comments also betray a disturbing lack of gratitude.

Just last week, a Canadian water bomber pilot died fighting fires in Colorado. Canadians have fought fires in California, provided aid after hurricanes in Louisiana, helped with floods in New York, and following tornadoes in the Midwest. We have never blamed American leaders for the impacts of natural disasters. We have never threatened tariffs or politicized tragedies beyond our control because smoke crossed the border.

We asked how we could help, we donated and we prayed for our friends because that is what neighbours do.

Let’s be honest. Trump’s threats have nothing to do with forest management. They are part of a pattern, where he uses crises—real or manufactured—to bully Canada into concessions on trade, energy, and continental security. Rather than being angry about smoke from forest fires crossing borders, he is exploiting smoke.

He is using a natural disaster as a political weapon, as leverage to extract economic concessions from a country that has stood by the United States for generations. It is gangster politics—extortion dressed up as environmental concern, and it is beneath the office he holds.

Only weather can change the situation

Every fire expert in Canada and the United States agrees that the only force capable of shifting the tide is weather. Significant rainfall, cooler temperatures, and reduced winds are the only variables that can slow or extinguish fires of this scale.

Government’s cannot manufacture rain, legislate humidity, or order lightning to stop. The fires will end when nature decides they will end.

Blaming Canada for the uncontrollable forces of nature is not leadership. It is ignorance and it is dangerous. It undermines the very alliance that has kept North America stable and prosperous.

The facts are clear. The science is clear. The scale is clear.

The only question is whether the President of the United States is willing to see it.

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

Canadians want a politics of decency and humanity, and NDP leader Avi Lewis could deliver it

Canadians are rejecting the politics of fear and capitulation and instead choosing a politics of empathy, solidarity, and material improvement. 

By Fareed Khan

A version of this article can be found on Substack

Avi Lewis’s election as leader of the federal New Democratic Party earlier this year was not merely an internal party upset or a moment of ideological turbulence. It was a national signal—clear, forceful, and overdue that Canadians are rejecting the traditional political binary that has dominated federal politics for years—a choice between the Conservative Party and Pierre Poilievre’s rage‑based theatrics, or the Liberal Party led by Mark Carney, a polished but pliant technocrat. Lewis’s victory shows that Canadians are hungry for something different, for a politics rooted in humanity, solidarity, and economic dignity.

For decades, Canadians have been told that their political choices begin and end with the two parties that have governed the country since Confederation—parties now led by a career politician who thrives on division and a former central banker who campaigned on “elbows up” toughness but has governed with “hands up” submission. Neither Poilievre or Carney offers what Canadians actually need. One cannot deliver because he sits in Opposition, and the other has failed because none of the initiatives he announced as prime minister have materialized—whether on affordable housing, affordable groceries, affordable internet and phone services, a government willing to confront corporate greed, or a leader with a moral compass in the face of genocide who stands up to foreign pressure rather than bows before it.

Lewis’s rise demonstrates that Canadians are sick of fear‑based politics and want to embrace a politics of decency—one that understands the daily struggles of ordinary people and refuses to treat corporate interests or foreign governments as the true constituency of Canadian democracy.

The failure of the old politics

Poilievre’s politics revolve around resentment, division, and perpetual outrage. He has mastered the art of weaponizing anger while offering little in the way of substantive solutions. Carney, by contrast, presents himself as a steady hand, a global thinker, a technocrat who has the international experience to manage crises with calm expertise. But his record since becoming prime minister reveals a troubling pattern. Despite his speeches promoting “elbows up”, when confronted by pressure from Donald Trump’s administration, Carney has given concessions without getting anything from the United States in return.

Many Canadians voted for Carney out of fear—fear of Poilievre becoming prime minister, and fear of Trump’s threats to annex Canada or impose crippling tariffs. But fear is not a governing philosophy, and Canadians are now realizing that Carney’s leadership has delivered submission more than economic stability, and that his tools to deliver that economic stability are very limited.

Trump’s escalating war with Iran (something over which Carney has no control) has already destabilized global markets, driven up energy prices, rattled supply chains, and pushed major economies toward recession. Canadians have felt the effects of this in gas prices and at the grocery store.  His erratic tariff threats, sanctions, and military adventurism have created an environment where no country can count on predictable trade flows or stable investment conditions.

Carney promised during the federal election that he would shield Canadians from global volatility, insisting that his experience as a central banker in both Canada and the United Kingdom equipped him to steady the economy in turbulent times. But the reality has been starkly different. Despite his international stature and frequent overseas trips to seek investment and sign trade deals, Carney has no meaningful ability to counteract the economic shockwaves generated by Trump’s decisions. His government cannot blunt the impact of Trump’s escalating confrontation with Iran, which has already driven up global energy prices, disrupted supply chains, and pushed major economies toward the brink of recession. Nor can Carney insulate Canadians from the broader instability created by Trump’s unpredictable sanctions, tariff threats, and military brinkmanship. In practice, Carney’s government has little leverage and no effective strategy beyond waiting for the chaos instigated by Washington to pass. The economic turbulence unleashed by the US president since returning to office is far larger than Carney’s ability to deliver on his promises, and Canadians are now living with the consequences.

Carney’s pattern of capitulation

Carney’s “elbows up” pledge has collapsed under the weight of repeated concessions to Washington. Four major examples illustrate this pattern clearly.

Digital Services Tax retreat: Carney promised to ensure multinational tech giants pay their fair share—a 3% levy on the Canadian revenues of US tech giants. But when Trump threatened retaliatory tariffs, Carney rescinded implementation of the Digital Services Tax in June 2025, effectively surrendering to US pressure rather than defending Canadian sovereignty. Critics across the political spectrum described the move as a capitulation wrapped in the political spin of affordability for Canadian consumers.

Gordie Howe Bridge concession: Trump’s administration attempted to use the Gordie Howe International Bridge as leverage, threatening delays and regulatory obstacles unless Canada made concessions on unrelated trade issues. Instead of asserting Canada’s rights in a binational infrastructure project based on a legal and binding agreement, Carney quietly acquiesced. His government’s refusal to release the details of the deal speaks volumes. It’s another instance of when Trump pushes, Carney yields.

The F‑35 procurement paralysis: More than a year after Carney called for a review of Canada’s purchase of F-35 fighter jets, his refusal to make a clear decision—despite years of planning and billions of taxpayer dollars already committed—is another example of his unwillingness to confront Washington. Trump’s administration openly pressured Canada to accelerate the procurement and Canada even put in a down payment on 14 additional jets, and Carney has responded with indecision rather than resolve. His hesitation signaled weakness and an unwillingness to make a decision that affects the future of the RCAF.

Withdrawal of the Online Streaming Act levy: Perhaps the clearest example of Carney’s capitulation came with his withdrawal of the Online Streaming Act levy. The levy would have required major American streaming platforms—Netflix, Amazon Prime, Disney+, and others—to contribute up to 15% of their Canadian revenues toward Canadian and Indigenous content production. The policy was designed to strengthen Canada’s cultural sector and ensure foreign platforms invested in the country from which they profit.

But after intense pressure from US officials, American tech companies, and Trump’s trade representatives—who called the levy “discriminatory”—Carney reversed course. He directed the CRTC to rewrite the rules, effectively scrapping the levy and replacing it with a $600‑million annual federal subsidy. Carney framed the decision as an affordability measure, claiming the levy would raise subscription costs for Canadians. But critics immediately recognized the move for what it was: another concession to Washington in the middle of Trump’s trade war with Canada.

The reversal shocked Canada’s cultural sector, blindsided Liberal MPs, and signaled to foreign corporations that Canadian cultural policy is negotiable whenever U.S. pressure is applied. It was a textbook example of Carney’s governing style—rhetorical toughness paired with policy surrender.

Avi Lewis represents the politics many Canadians want

Lewis’s victory in the NDP leadership race signals a profound shift in the Canadian political landscape, as is the NDP’s rise in the polls. Canadians are rejecting the politics of fear and capitulation and instead choosing a politics of empathy, solidarity, and material improvement.

The truth is that Lewis understands what Canadians want: affordable housing built for people, not investors.  Affordable groceries in a market dominated by corporate giants; affordable internet, data, and phone services in a country where telecom monopolies extract some of the highest fees in the world; a government that stands up to corporate power, not one that bends to it; a foreign policy rooted in human rights, not one shaped by the interests of states like Israel whose actions violate international law with impunity.

Lewis’s politics are grounded in the daily realities of Canadians who are struggling to pay rent, feed their families, and stay connected in an increasingly digital world. He speaks to the majority, not the elite minority.

A new kind of leadership

Lewis offers something Canadians have been denied for years—a politics of courage and compassion. He does not posture. He does not perform toughness while quietly capitulating behind closed doors. He does not weaponize anger or fear. Instead, he offers a politics rooted in human dignity.

He has shown he can empathize with people’s struggles and articulate a vision of Canada that is not defined by corporate interests or foreign pressure. He has demonstrated that he understands the basic needs of the vast majority of Canadians—and that he is willing to fight for them.

This is why his rise to lead the NDP matters. It is not simply a victory for the party’s left wing. It is a declaration that Canadians are ready for a new political era.

The Canadian public has shifted

The old political class still insists that Canadians are fundamentally centrist, cautious, and resistant to bold change. But Lewis’s victory proves otherwise. Canadians are tired of being told that they must accept corporate greed, rising costs, and foreign interference as inevitable facts of life. They are tired of being governed by people who do not understand them.

Lewis’s election is a wake‑up call—not just for the NDP, but for the entire country. It shows that Canadians are ready to embrace a politics that prioritizes human dignity over corporate profit, sovereignty over submission, and solidarity over division.

Carney and Poilievre offer Canadians politics as it has been for most of Canada’s existence—alternating between two parties which have both shifted to the right of the political spectrum.  Lewis offers a politics of hope, and Canadians are making it clear which they prefer.

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

Carney showed Canadians his weakness by paying “ransom” to Trump over Gordie Howe Bridge opening

If the US can extract concessions on a bridge it did not pay for, what will stop it from doing the same on pipelines, rail corridors, or energy grids?

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

Mark Carney’s government has now provided the clearest evidence yet that Canada’s “elbows‑up” strategy, which he promoted after becoming prime minister, is over. The prime minister who promised Canadians that their country would no longer be pushed around or intimidated by the United States under Donald Trump has instead delivered a humiliating concession over the opening of the Gordie Howe International Bridge—an infrastructure project that Canada fully funded, managed, and built. And yet, when the moment of truth arrived, Carney folded.

To understand the scale of this capitulation, Canadians need to revisit the history of the bridge itself. The Gordie Howe International Bridge was conceived as a long‑overdue modernization of the Windsor–Detroit crossing, a corridor responsible for on average US$360 million in daily trade between Canada and the US. The existing 96-year-old  Ambassador Bridge—owned by the Moroun family, a private US business dynasty—had long been a chokepoint, a monopoly crossing plagued by aging infrastructure and political interference.

In 2012, after years of obstruction from the Ambassador Bridge owners, Canada and the Obama administration signed a binational agreement, that began construction of a new bridge between Windsor and Detroit.  Under the arrangement Canada would pay the full cost of the new bridge—$6.4 billion—and in return Canada would collect 100% of toll revenues until its investment was recouped. Only after Canada recovered its costs would profits be split 50/50. It was a fair deal, a rational deal, and a deal that was supposed to protect Canadian taxpayers.

Then Donald Trump entered the picture.

According to multiple investigative reports, the owners of the Ambassador Bridge donated $1.5 million to a Trump‑aligned MAGA PAC shortly before the Trump administration began obstructing the bridge’s opening with claims of a bad deal for the US. The timing was not subtle and the intent was not hidden. The Ambassador Bridge owners wanted to delay or derail the Gordie Howe Bridge, and they were willing to pay whatever it took to do it.

Being the corrupt, transactional thug that he is Trump delivered.

The Trump administration signaled that the bridge would not open unless Canada renegotiated the financial terms of the original deal. In other words: the United States demanded a ransom, and Mark Carney paid it.

The new arrangement—forced on Canada under threat of indefinite delay—hands the United States benefits it never earned and concessions it never paid for. The US contributed nothing to the bridge’s construction. Yet Carney agreed to a deal that gives Americans a share of profits, a veto over toll increases of more than 10%, and access to a US‑only economic development fund financed by toll revenue.

The specifics of the “ransom” Canada paid include:

• 15‑Year Profit Sharing: Canada still collects toll revenue, but 50% of net profits for the first 15 years will be diverted to a US regional development fund—money to which Canadians will not have access;
• US Toll Governance: Canada must obtain US consent to raise tolls more than 10% or lower them below regional averages. In other words, Canada no longer controls the pricing of the bridge it paid for.
• US‑Only Reinvestment: The diverted profits will be spent exclusively on American infrastructure and economic projects. In other words, Canadians will fund it but only Americans will spend it.

This is not partnership, or diplomacy, or respect between two sovereign nations.  It is extortion and blatant gangsterism.  And Carney’s response to Trump’s thuggery was not “elbows up.” It was “hands up.”

The prime minister who once declared that Canada would no longer be intimidated has now demonstrated the opposite. Canada can be taken into a back room by a gangster‑style US president and beaten until it agrees to whatever Washington demands. Trump threatened to block the opening of a bridge Canada built, and Carney surrendered.

This is not an isolated incident. It is part of a pattern we have seen since Trump returned to office, one where Trump threatens and Canada capitulates.

Carney has repeatedly shown weakness in the face of US pressure. His government’s digital services legislation—originally intended to ensure fair taxation of tech giants like Amazon, Google and Meta operating in Canada—was rescinded on June 30, 2025 in order to restart trade talks with the US. The result was that Canada gained little given that trade talks are still effectively halted.  It conceded much to the detriment of Canadians, and once again demonstrated that US threats and intimidation can bend Ottawa’s spine.

The Gordie Howe Bridge fiasco is not an isolated embarrassment—it is the clearest, most visible symptom of a deeper structural failure. Carney’s decisions have not fortified Canada’s sovereignty in its relationship with the United States; they have steadily eroded it. No matter how loudly the Carney government advertises its other international “wins,” the reality is unavoidable: Canada is emerging from these confrontations with the Trump administration weaker, more vulnerable, and more dependent on the goodwill of its single largest trading partner.

Consider the symbolism. The bridge was meant to be a triumph of Canadian initiative, a strategic investment in national economic security. Instead, it has become a monument to American coercion and Canadian capitulation. The country that paid for the bridge now needs permission to operate it from the country that paid nothing.

Carney’s defenders will argue that the deal was necessary to avoid further delays. They will say that opening the bridge is vital for trade, for jobs, for the economy. And they are right about the importance of the bridge. But they are wrong about the price paid.

Canada could have stood firm. Canada could have insisted that the original agreement be honoured, and even sued in US and Canadian courts. Canada could have refused to renegotiate under duress. Instead, Carney rewarded extortion with concessions.

The consequences will echo far beyond Windsor and Detroit.

First, Canada has signaled to the United States that bullying and extortion works. If Trump—or any future US administration—wants something from Canada, they now know the formula: threaten economic disruption, apply political pressure, and wait for Ottawa to fold.

Second, Canada has undermined its own credibility. A country that cannot defend a $6.4‑billion investment it fully funded cannot credibly claim to be a sovereign equal in North American negotiations.

Third, Canada has set a dangerous precedent for future infrastructure projects. If the US can extract concessions on a bridge it did not pay for, what will stop it from doing the same on pipelines, rail corridors, or energy grids?

Carney’s failure of resolve isn’t merely a political misstep. It is a direct threat to Canada’s national security posture.

This nation’s prosperity depends on cross‑border infrastructure. If that infrastructure becomes a bargaining chip for US political actors, Canada’s economic future becomes hostage to American domestic politics. And if Canada’s prime minister cannot stand up to a US president who openly uses extortion as a negotiating tactic, then Canada is not negotiating—it is submitting.

The Gordie Howe Bridge should have been a symbol of Canadian strength. Instead, it has become a symbol of Canadian vulnerability.

Carney promised Canadians that he would lead with strength. He promised that Canada would no longer be pushed around. He promised an “elbows‑up” foreign policy.  But when Donald Trump came knocking, Carney didn’t put his elbows up. He raised his hands in submission. And  for that Canada has paid the price, and will continue to for decades.

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