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

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

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

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

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

Weaponizing religious law to silence a political leader

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

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

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

Goldstein knows this, but he uses them anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

A threat against one is a threat against all

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

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

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

The column fits a pattern of right‑wing political violence

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

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

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

This is the language of fascism.

The National Post has crossed a red line

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

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

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

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

Avi Lewis spoke the truth, and was targeted for it

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

Stephen Lewis—a political giant—leaves a legacy of justice and shows what a good politician should be

Stephen Lewis had a higher purpose of public service—to work tirelessly to build a better society for those who were not members of society’s elite class.

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

With the death of Stephen Lewis on March 31, 2026, Canada has lost a political, moral, and intellectual giant. At 88, Lewis departed this life just days after his son Avi’s election as federal New Democratic Party leader, closing a chapter of extraordinary public service while opening another. Few figures in our history combined such fierce intelligence, unyielding moral clarity, and oratorical power. In an era when politics too often feels small, transactional, and beholden to the wealthy, Lewis stood apart—a voice that elevated debate, challenged power, and reminded us that public life could be a noble calling.

No political leader of recent memory possessed the intellectual and moral strength of Stephen Lewis. As Ontario NDP leader from 1970 to 1978, he brought a razor-sharp mind and passionate eloquence to the legislature and the hustings. His speeches were not mere sound bites, they were rigorous, evidence-based arguments wrapped in moral urgency. He could dissect economic inequality with the precision of a scholar while stirring the conscience of ordinary Canadians with the fire of a prophet.

Later, as Canada’s ambassador to the United Nations and special envoy on HIV/AIDS, he confronted global indifference with the same combination of intellectual rigour and ethical conviction. Where others offered platitudes, Lewis demanded action. Where others courted donors and pollsters, he spoke truth to power. In the decades since he left provincial politics, no federal or provincial leader—Conservative, Liberal, or even New Democrat—has matched that rare fusion of brilliance and principle. Lewis did not merely participate in politics, he ennobled it.

It is regrettable that we rarely see political figures of his calibre any more in Canadian politics. Today’s leaders too often default to scripted talking points, focus-grouped slogans, and carefully managed social-media moments. The grand rhetorical tradition that once animated Canada’s political culture and public squares has been diminished by the demands of 24-hour news cycles and social media algorithms. Lewis’s ability to hold audiences spellbound with his words, to weave complex policy into vivid human narratives, and to inspire collective action feels like a relic of a more courageous age. In the era of performative politics and corporate and billionaire influence, the absence of voices like his leaves a void that needs to be filled. Public discourse has suffered, because unlike Lewis, today’s leaders fear bold ideas because it may mean losing power.

Yet even as many mourn Lewis’s passing, there is reason for hope. With the recent election of his son Avi as leader of the federal NDP, we may witness a rebirth of the sort of the sort of progressive politics that gave Canada its most cherished social programs. The NDP and its predecessor, the Co-operative Commonwealth Federation, have long been the engine of social democratic advance in this country. It was that tradition—fiercely championed by figures like Tommy Douglas—that delivered Canada’s public health care system, a single-payer model , however flawed, that Canadians value as a critical part what it is to be Canadian.

The Canada Pension Plan, which provides retirement security to millions, owes its existence to the determined advocacy of NDP parliamentarians who refused to let Lester Pearson’s minority government settle for less. The 40-hour work week, once a distant dream of labour activists, became reality through decades of union and political pressure rooted in the same progressive ethos. More recently, public dental care and publicly funded day care have moved from aspiration to policy, thanks in no small part to NDP insistence during minority Parliaments.

These are not abstract achievements. They are the concrete expressions of a politics that puts people before profits. Canadians take them for granted precisely because they have become woven into the fabric of our national identity. Avi Lewis’s leadership, taking from what his father taught him, offers the chance to revive that tradition at the federal level, to remind us that bold social policy is not radical—it is Canadian.

What Canada needs today is political leaders cast in the mould of Stephen Lewis—men and women who do not serve the rich and powerful but represent the interests of the 99% of Canadians who are not part of the millionaire and billionaire class. Too many in our current political class have internalized the notion that economic policy must first appease Bay Street, corporate boardrooms, and the ultra-wealthy. The result is a new Gilded Age in Canada, where a tiny elite grows obscenely richer while wages stagnate, housing becomes unaffordable, and essential services strain under chronic under funding. The super-rich are not merely benefiting from the system, they are shaping it—through lobbying, political donations, and media influence—to ensure policies flow upward.

Stephen Lewis never accepted this arrangement. His higher purpose of public service was to work tirelessly to build a better society for those who were not members of society’s elite class—the working families, the poor, the marginalized, the vast majority who labour every day without the cushion of inherited wealth or corporate connections. He understood that governments too often pursue policies that benefit the rich and powerful at the expense of the bottom 99%. Lewis rejected that approach to governing. He believed public office existed to restrain excess, expand opportunity, and guarantee dignity for all, not just those of wealth and privilege.

If given a chance, Stephen Lewis’s son Avi, as the new leader of the NDP, could be the political leader who begins the process of ending this new Gilded Age. The current Liberal government under Prime Minister Mark Carney has adopted fiscal and economic policies that often resemble those of past Conservative administrations—cautious on taxation of extreme wealth, deferential to market orthodoxy, and slow to confront the structural inequalities that define our time.

Carney, a former Bank of Canada governor and Goldman Sachs executive, brings formidable expertise to the role of prime minister but also a worldview shaped by elite financial circles. His minority government has shown flashes of progressive instinct, yet more often it has prioritized fiscal conservatism and investor confidence over the transformative change Canadians need to reduce extreme wealth inequality and raise the wages of the vast majority.

Avi Lewis has the platform, the pedigree, and the passion to push the Carney government—and the broader political spectrum—back toward the left of the political centre by demanding universal pharmacare, stronger labour rights, meaningful wealth taxes, and aggressive action on housing and climate justice. An emboldened NDP, echoing the legacy of the elder Lewis, could force the Liberals to choose between the status quo and the bold social democracy that once defined Canadian politics in the 1960s and 70s.

As Canadians mourn the passing of Stephen Lewis, let the example of his life—in politics and beyond—serve as a guiding light for the future of our public life. His intellectual honesty, moral courage, and unwavering commitment to the common good should not slip into mere nostalgic memory. Instead, they must inspire a new generation of leaders who understand that the true measure of a nation lies not in the height of its stock market, but in the depth of its compassion and the breadth of its opportunity.

Avi Lewis now carries that torch. As he works to restore the federal NDP to the principled, fighting spirit that once made it the conscience of the nation, Canadians have a chance to reclaim the progressive legacy that built our greatest public institutions. Stephen Lewis showed us what politics at its best can achieve. His son now has the opportunity to prove it can happen again.

The passing of a giant leaves a huge silence, but in that silence echoes a clear challenge, to reject complacency, to demand better, and to build the fairer Canada that Lewis always believed was possible. If we seize this moment, perhaps we can achieve in our lifetime what Stephen Lewis could not fully realize in his.

© 2026 The View From Here. © 2025 Fareed Khan. All Rights Reserved.

By disqualifying Anjali Appadurai from party’s leadership race BC NDP sends message that smart, savvy, racialized women need not apply

By Fareed Khan and Jenn Courtney 

 

When British Columbia premier John Horgan announced his resignation earlier this year, thereby initiating a race for the leadership of the province’s New Democratic Party, little did anyone expect that it would end in controversy with the party disqualifying Anjali Appadurai, one of the two candidates in the race. 

 

 

Many NDP supporters reacted to the decision by claiming that it smacks of racism and misogyny, and is the latest example of how the party has strayed from its social democratic roots under Horgan's leadership.  The party that prides itself on standing for progressive values, promoting diversity, equity and inclusivity, fighting racism, and supporting women has done exactly the opposite with this decision. 

 

The reason given for Appadurai's disqualification is that she broke rules set out by the NDP for the leadership race by engaging with a third party to help sell memberships in support of her candidacy.  However, the rules prohibiting third party engagement came into effect on August 31st and were retroactively applied to an event Appadurai attended on August 6th.  How can someone be disqualified for violating a rule that did not exist at the time the alleged infraction took place?  Appadurai's supporters and long-time party members have called this retroactive application of the rule unjust and undemocratic, and expressed disappointment and disgust by this betrayal of NDP values. 

 

One has to wonder what the party's top leaders were thinking when they made this decision, and how they treated Appadurai in its aftermath.  According to leaked reports the party did not give her an opportunity to appeal the disqualification, and a motion at the leadership council to allow an appeal was dismissed outright. 

 

On its face the disqualification certainly appears to be an example of racism and misogyny, not to mention that racialized communities which flocked to support Appadurai will see it as further political disenfranchisement of people who are vastly underrepresented in politics. 

 

But the fix seemed to be in from the beginning.  The NDP attacked Appadurai from the moment she announced her candidacy, and sabotaged her every step of the way – a flagrantly anti-democratic move against a racialized woman who dared to threaten the hold of the white boys club at the top of the party. 

 

During the campaign Appadurai was clearly more successful in selling party memberships than BC cabinet minister David Eby, the only other candidate in the race who was supported by the NDP establishment.  She brought back alienated former supporters while energizing new supporters from racialized communities.  She tirelessly recruited members, who joined with the expectation that they would be able choose who would lead the party.  By disqualifying Appadurai the party denied those members their democratic right, and damaged relationships with new and returning supporters.  Jagmeet Singh used a similar recruitment approach when he ran for the federal NDP leadership.  The only difference is that Singh was allowed to run, and eventually became leader of the federal NDP, while Appadurai was torpedoed for being too successful in her campaign. 

 

What message does the NDP decision send to young, racialized women in British Columbia?  The answer is that they are welcome in the party as long as they are prepared to be a prop, and they had better not get uppity, or embarrass those who control the party.  At its heart, the decision to terminate Appadurai’s candidacy speaks directly to the issues faced by all racialized Canadians in politics, especially racialized women. 

 

With Appadurai’s disqualification Eby was handed the leadership of the BC NDP on a silver platter.  He was anointed to preserve the power of the party’s white elites, and we know this because his only opponent, a Brown woman who was on track to win, was disqualified on the weakest of pretenses. 

 

It is beyond insulting for the NDP to use racialized women members as fodder to propagandize support from racialized communities. But it seems if those women dare to give voters what they actually want then they had better watch out, because that would threaten those who control the party, something that cannot be permitted. 

 

In today’s Canada it is crucial for young, racialized women to see themselves represented in political leadership roles.  The NDP in BC claims to welcome such women, but in this instance it chose to silence a woman of colour because she dared to challenge the old boys network. NDP supporters and BC voters will not forget this betrayal, and the party will pay a political price when the public realizes that its leaders cannot be trusted to live up to the values it claims to support.

Fareed Khan is the Founder of Canadians United Against Hate / Canadiens Unis Contre la Haine.

Jenn Courtney is the British Columbia Director for Canadians United Against Hate / Canadiens Unis Contre la Haine.

 

© 2022 The View From Here.  © 2022 Fareed Khan.  All Rights Reserved.