Son of Rohingya genocide survivors puts “never again” into practice with Gaza aid flotilla

Tinmaung’s story exposes the hollowness and selective nature of “Never Again” as practiced by Canada and the West. Rohingya survivors and their descendants recognize the patterns of genocide.  

By Fareed Khan

A version of this can be found on Substack.

Late Wednesday evening, June 3, as Ko Tinmaung (a close friend) stepped off a Virgin Atlantic flight from London at Toronto Pearson International Airport, Canadians across the country should have had reason to reflect on the profound courage of a man—a son whose family survived genocide—propelled him to risk everything for strangers half a world away.

A Rohingya-Canadian human rights activist, Tinmaung was among a dozen Canadians on the Global Sumud Gaza Flotilla—a multinational humanitarian mission attempting to break Israel’s 19-year siege of Gaza. Illegally intercepted by Israeli forces in international waters in mid-May, he, along with 11 other Canadians and hundreds of other flotilla volunteers, was detained and subjected to torture before being deported by Israel.  He finally made his way home via a hospital in Turkey, The Hague—where he met with ICC officials—and the UK where he met with a prominent genocide scholar. His ordeal is not merely the story of one determined activist. It is a searing indictment of Western hypocrisy on violating the sacred pledge of “Never Again” made after the horrors of World War Two and the Holocaust.

Tinmaung’s parents fled the horrors of Myanmar’s genocidal campaign against the Rohingya in the late 1970s, part of a decades-long persecution that escalated dramatically in 2017 and 2018, with mass killings, rapes, the wholesale destruction of Rohingya villages, the murder of babies, and the displacement of over 800,000 people to refugee camps in Bangladesh. The United States government formally determined that Myanmar’s military committed genocide and crimes against humanity against the Rohingya, as did Canada. United Nations fact-finding missions and International Court of Justice proceedings have documented the systematic intent to destroy the Rohingya people in whole or in part.

Having survived this nightmare through exile and displacement his parents were accepted for settlement in Canada where they taught their son not to look away when others faced the same types of horrors they did. Tinmaung could have chosen not to heed those lessons or focussed on narrow ethnic advocacy. Instead, he has embodied the universal lesson of his people’s suffering. He joined the Global Sumud Flotilla in May—a multinational civilian mission involving dozens of vessels and over 400 participants from more than 40 countries—carrying humanitarian aid to challenge Israel’s 19-year blockade of Gaza and draw global attention to what multiple respected bodies have identified as an ongoing genocide in the enclave.

In international waters off Cyprus, Israeli forces illegally intercepted the flotilla in what international law experts have called an act of state piracy. Hundreds of activists, including a dozen Canadians, were detained. In a testimony posted by Doctors Against Genocide Tinmaung reported brutal treatment—beatings, repeated tasering, and other forms of torture. Social media posts showing detainees being taunted and threatened by Israeli National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir sparked international outrage, leading to Tinmaung’s deportation to Turkey along with the other activists. There, he received hospital treatment for his injuries before travelling to The Hague to testify before International Criminal Court officials, and then meeting with noted genocide scholar Professor Maung Zarni in the UK. His resilience mirrors the idea of “sumud”—steadfastness or perseverance—he sought to support in solidarity with Palestinians in Gaza.

Tinmaung has explicitly drawn parallels between the Rohingya genocide and the situation in Gaza. If one examines the two atrocities, both involve systematic dehumanization, collective punishment, destruction of homes and infrastructure, and the targeting of a people’s ability to survive and reproduce as a group. His participation in the flotilla was a living enactment of “Never Again”—not as a slogan for one tragedy, but as a moral imperative against all peoples who are targets of genocide.

Western politicians, particularly in Canada, have mouthed this phrase for decades at annual genocide commemoration events while failing to apply it consistently. The Holocaust rightly forged a global commitment to prevent future genocides, yet that commitment has proven selective. When the victims are not aligned with geopolitical interests, “Never Again” becomes “Never Again . . . where it’s convenient and politically expedient,” thereby ignoring the core nature of the phrase.

In Gaza, the evidence of genocidal acts is overwhelming. A UN Independent International Commission of Inquiry has concluded that Israel has committed genocide against Palestinians in Gaza, citing acts including killing, causing serious bodily and mental harm, and deliberately inflicting conditions of life calculated to bring about physical destruction. The International Association of Genocide Scholars passed a resolution affirming that Israel’s policies meet the legal definition under the 1948 Genocide Convention. Israeli human rights organizations like B’Tselem and Physicians for Human Rights Israel, Amnesty International, and numerous scholars have reached similar conclusions after meticulous documentation.

These are not fringe voices. They include UN experts, legal bodies, and even Israeli organizations confronting the reality of their government’s criminal actions—mass civilian deaths (with independent organizations conservatively estimating over 80,000 Palestinians killed), widespread destruction of homes, hospitals, schools, and universities, forced displacement of nearly the entire population, and deliberate deprivation of food, water, medicine, and electricity. Children have been disproportionately affected, with reports of entire families erased and a new acronym in medical literature: WCNSF—Wounded Child No Surviving Family.

Canada’s response under Prime Minister Mark Carney has been tepid at best. Following the flotilla interception and the mistreatment of Canadian citizens, the government’s primary action was summoning Israel’s ambassador and issuing statements condemning the “appalling treatment.” No sanctions, no arms embargo, no meaningful diplomatic isolation, no suspension of trade—despite the participation of Canadians in a peaceful humanitarian mission that was met with an act of violent state piracy and terrorism on the high seas.

The Canadian government’s passivity is part of a broader pattern. While Canada has recognized the State of Palestine (conditionally) and called for ceasefires and humanitarian access, it has stopped short of taking the decisive measures required by the Genocide Convention’s obligation to prevent and punish genocide. State parties, including Canada, have a duty not only to refrain from complicity in genocide but to take positive action to halt it. Summoning an ambassador while continuing business as usual—arms exports, trade ties, and diplomatic cover—falls tragically short and makes Canada criminally complicit.

Critics will argue that Israel’s actions are a justifiable response to the October 7, 2023 by Hamas.  And while no one any nation’s right to defend itself under international law self-defence does not justify collective punishment, indiscriminate destruction, or acts prohibited by the Genocide Convention. The scale, the intent inferred from statements by Israeli officials, and the brutal and systematic nature of the campaign in Gaza distinguish it from legitimate warfare. As genocide scholars note, security pretexts have historically masked genocidal campaigns in the past and Israel is doing the same now.

Tinmaung’s story exposes the hollowness and selective nature of “Never Again” as practiced by Canada and the West. Rohingya survivors and their descendants recognize the patterns of genocide—pattern of language dehumanizing the “other,” ghettoization, siege, destruction of cultural and reproductive capacity, and international inaction until it is too late. His decision to sail with the Sumud Flotilla was an act of profound solidarity and courage—putting his money, body, and freedom where his mouth is. The same is the case for the other Canadians, and hundreds of other Flotilla participants from over 40 countries.  He (and they) did what politicians evade—translate historic memory around atrocities into moral courage.

Mark Carney’s and other Western leaders’ reluctance to do what is moral and right stems from various factors—strategic alliances, domestic politics, lobbying, and fears of antisemitism accusations. However, legitimate concern for Jewish safety must not become a shield for impunity. If Carney had courage and demonstrated real leadership he would demand accountability from Israel for its actions which erode its moral standing and long-term security. Complicity in genocide damages everyone, including Jewish communities which face rising antisemitism partly fueled by outrage over what Israel—the supposed embodiment of the Jewish people globally—is doing in Gaza.

Canada’s approach under Carney—words of concern paired with minimal action—exemplifies performative solidarity. The Carney government has acknowledged the humanitarian disaster and supported some international aid efforts, yet it has not imposed targeted sanctions on Israeli political and military leaders responsible for war crimes and crimes against humanity, and genocide, nor meaningfully restricted Canada’s military-related exports to Israel. This is not leadership. It is complicity through omission.

Tinmaung’s arrival in Toronto was met with welcoming cheers from a large group of supporters. But it should also result in a national reckoning. Canadians pride ourselves on what is now a myth, that this country upholds human rights advocacy and protects refugees. In the 1970s we welcomed Vietnamese Boat People. We welcomed Bosnians and Kosovars in the 1990s.  We opened the doors to Syrian refugees in the 2010s.  And we have welcomed small numbers of Rohingya genocide survivors.  Will we now reject the principles that brought these groups here now that the victims are Palestinian?

The Global Sumud Flotilla, despite its interception, succeeded in one vital way it kept the world’s attention on the Gaza genocide when fatigue and other global crises threaten to normalize the horror. Activists like Tinmaung who displayed amazing courage along with the other Canadians who participated in the Flotilla force us to confront what “Never Again” truly requires—economic pressure, diplomatic isolation of perpetrators, support for international justice mechanisms like the International Criminal Court and the International Court of Justice, and unhindered humanitarian aid.

As Tinmaung recovers from his injuries resulting from Israeli torture and shares his testimony, his message will likely echo the one he carried to sea: the struggles against genocide are connected. Silence or weak responses by governments to one emboldens others. The Rohingya waited years for meaningful action, and many still wait for justice. Palestinians cannot afford the same delay.

Canada has to do far better than it has in relation to Israeli atrocities committed in Gaza. It must impose comprehensive sanctions on Israeli political and military officials and entities implicated in grave violations of international law. It must halt all arms-related trade with Israel by closing loopholes in Canadian law. It must lead calls for enforcement of ICJ provisional measures. It must use Canada’s influence in international forums to demand an end to the Israeli blockade of Gaza and accountability. Anything less dishonors not only Tinmaung’s personal sacrifice but also the memory of all genocide victims, including those of the Holocaust whose suffering birthed the “Never Again” pledge.

Ko Tinmaung has put his body and life on the line for a principle Western politicians treat as optional rhetoric. His story demands we choose. Will “Never Again” finally mean something universal, or will it remain a selective eulogy for the politically convenient dead? The answer will define Canada’s moral standing in this century and how it is perceived in the global south for decades to come. 

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

The Gaza genocide and the death of global conscience and morality

The Gaza genocide lays bare the collapse of global conscience and moral courage. Western powers—self-proclaimed guardians of the post-World War Two order—have rendered “Never Again” a cruel farce.

  

By Fareed Khan 

  

The ongoing genocide in Gaza, characterized by a staggering death toll and widespread destruction, has laid bare a profound moral failure in the global community, particularly among Western nations that constructed the post-World War Two international order. The phrase “Never Again,” solemnly invoked each year on Holocaust Remembrance Day, has been exposed as an empty promise, and some would even say, a lie, undermined by geopolitical interests as well as societal and institutional biases.

With a death toll of 70,300 as of July 2025, and estimates by Israeli academic Yaakov Garb suggesting between 377,000 and 400,000 Palestinian deaths based on Israeli military data, the scale of the catastrophe is undeniable. Israel’s brutality and genocidal intent in Gaza, along with the refusal of Western nations which have to power to stop it but don’t, reveals the death of global conscience and morality.  It seems that the Western alliance, led by the United States prioritizes their geopolitical and economic interests over human lives, perpetuating institutional anti-Palestinian racism and Islamophobia, and exposing the so-called “international rule of law” as a tool to serve only Western geopolitical interests. The complicity of Western leaders, media, and corporations, coupled with the failure of Western leaders to act decisively, as they did in Kosovo in the late 90s, mirrors the decline of the League of Nations in the 1930s, signalling a moral abyss that threatens the legitimacy of the global order. 

 

The hollow promise of “never again”    

 

The post-World War Two order, established by Western allies to prevent atrocities like the Holocaust, was founded on the principle of universality—the idea that human rights apply to all, regardless of race, religion, or nationality. The Genocide Convention of 1948 and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights were meant to enshrine this commitment. Yet, the Gaza genocide has exposed “Never Again” as a discriminatory mantra, applied primarily to protect Zionist interests while sidelining Palestinian rights and suffering.    

 

UN Special Rapporteur Francesca Albanese has explicitly labelled Israel’s actions as genocide, stating that the process has reached “a level of savagery” that demands global attention. Similarly, UN Secretary-General António Guterres has called the situation in Gaza a “moral crisis that challenges the global conscience,” highlighting the failure of the international community to act.  Yet, despite global calls to intervene to stop Israel’s atrocities and help the people of Gaza no action has been taken. 

Zionist lobby groups such as the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC) and the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) in the United States, the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs (CIJA), B’nai Brith, and the Simon Wiesenthal Centre in Canada, as well as similar Zionist organizations in the United Kingdom, Germany and other Western nations, have played a significant role in this moral failure. These organizations, while claiming to advocate for Jewish rights, have been accused of promoting anti-Palestinian narratives and Islamophobia. For instance, the ADL and other Zionist voices have faced heavy criticism for equating criticism of Israel with antisemitism, effectively silencing dissent, including from Jews who oppose the genocide. 

Posts on social media have echoed this sentiment, with users noting that even Jewish scholars like Raz Segal, who labelled Israel’s actions as a “textbook case of genocide,” have faced repercussions, such as the rescinding of a job offer at the University of Minnesota. This selective application of “Never Again” reveals a troubling double standard, where Palestinian are devalued and dehumanized, and even anti-Zionist Jews are targeted for their dissent.

Western complicity and geopolitical priorities

Western democracies, particularly the United States, have demonstrated a stark indifference to Palestinian suffering for decades, prioritizing their own geopolitical and economic interests over moral imperatives. The US has provided unwavering military and diplomatic support to Israel, supplying weapons that have been used against Palestinians and vetoing UN ceasefire resolutions, despite the International Court of Justice (ICJ) ruling that Israel’s actions plausibly constitute genocide.

All of this contrasts sharply with the US-led intervention in Kosovo in 1999, where NATO acted swiftly to halt war crimes, and crimes against humanity citing humanitarian concerns. The disparity suggests that Western intervention is contingent on alignment with strategic interests, such as maintaining control in the Middle East and countering the power and influence of Muslim-majority nations.

Leaders from South Africa, Ireland, Spain, and Brazil have condemned Israel’s actions as genocidal, highlighting the moral bankruptcy of Western powers. Former Irish prime minister Leo Varadkar called for accountability, stating that the Gaza crisis exposes “double standards” in international law. Spanish prime minister Pedro Sánchez has similarly criticized the “indiscriminate killing” of Palestinians, while Brazilian president Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva has condemned Israel’s actions as “genocide”, and his government announced that Brazil will support the South African ICJ case against Israel, framing it as a necessary stand to oppose Israel’s crimes. These voices underscore the growing frustration among some nations with Western hypocrisy which claims to uphold human rights but instead enables Israel’s actions through arms sales and diplomatic cover.

Institutional anti-Palestinian racism and Islamophobia

The Gaza genocide has laid bare the entrenched anti-Palestinian racism and Islamophobia permeating Western governments and societies, driven by Zionist organizations and the Israeli state, and perpetuated by political voices, mainstream news media, and corporations. This systemic bias mirrors the historic persecution Jews endured for centuries, revealing a chilling parallel in the dehumanization of Palestinians. A 2024 analysis by Al Jazeera exposed Westernmedia outlets, which consistently frame the Israel-Palestine conflict to favour Israeli narratives, downplaying Palestinian suffering and portraying their resistance in a negative light, usually as acts of “terrorism”. 

Whistle blowers from CNN and the BBC have revealed deliberate editorial interference, including the airing of unverified Israeli propaganda despite internal warnings and a failure to challenge Israeli officials in interviews. Corporate complicity deepens this injustice, with Francesca Albanese’s report implicating not only arms giants like Lockheed Martin and Raytheon but also companies such as Microsoft, IBM, Chevron, Airbnb, and Barclays, all profiting from Israel’s apartheid system while prioritizing economic gain over moral accountability.

Social media platforms have amplified voices calling out this bias. Posts highlight how Western media outlets rarely report the full extent of the Palestinian death toll while focusing on Hamas’s actions on October 7, 2023, and Israeli lies about "beheaded babies." This selective outrage reinforces a narrative that Palestinian lives are less valuable, a form of institutional dehumanization rooted in anti-Palestinian and Islamophobic tropes that cast brown people from the Middle East as threats to “Western civilization.” Israeli leaders like President Isaac Herzog have fueled this rhetoric, claiming that the war in Gaza is a defense of “Western civilization” against a “Jihadist network.” Such statements echo historical dehumanization campaigns, justifying mass violence by portraying the targeted group as less than human.

The fallacy of the international rule of law

As a result of the West abandoning the so-called “international rule of law” and “international legal order” with respect to Israel’s genocide in Gaza, the post World War Two order has been exposed as a tool of Western hegemony, designed to suppress racialized nations and those in the global south while protecting allies like Israel. The system of laws, treaties and conventions created after World War Two, including institutions like the United Nations, was meant to prevent atrocities, yet it has repeatedly failed Palestinians for decades, as well as people like the Rohingya and the Uyghurs. As noted in a 2024 Foreign Affairs article by Agnès Callamard, the Gaza crisis marks the “end of the rules-based order,” as Western powers have normalized violations of international law, from indiscriminate bombing to collective punishment.

The US and some of its allies, including the United Kingdom and Canada, have stated their opposition to  South Africa’s ICJ case against Israel despite overwhelming evidence of Israeli crimes. This selective application of international law mirrors the failures of the League of Nations in the 1930s, which collapsed due to major powers intentionally violating its rules. The League’s inability to stop Japan’s invasion of Manchuria or Italy’s attack on Ethiopia parallels the UN’s failure to enforce accountability in Gaza. 

The Gaza Tribunal in Sarajevo, held in May 2025, documented this erosion, with Palestinian lawyer Raji Sourani arguing that Israel and its enablers aim to make Gaza “the graveyard of international law” for all people. The tribunal’s findings highlight how the “Israel exception” to international law, rooted in the 1947 UN Partition Plan and almost eight decades of subsequent Western support, has undermined global cooperation and the UN’s legitimacy.

The moral abyss and historical parallels

The Gaza genocide has plunged the world into a moral abyss, exposing the fragility of the global conscience. The West’s refusal to act decisively, despite overwhelming evidence of genocide, has damaged the international order in ways reminiscent of the 1930s where the League of Nations failed to prevent major powers prioritizing their interests over collective security, allowing aggression to go unchecked. Similarly, the West’s complicity in Gaza—through arms, funding, and diplomatic support to Israel—signals a retreat from the principles of universality and human rights, which has done irreparable damage to the international rule of law.

The moral failure is not just a betrayal of Palestinians but a warning to all peoples of the world that their rights and safety are not guaranteed, despite legal instruments like the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the Genocide Convention, or the United Nations itself. As noted in a 2024 Al-Shabaka commentary, the genocide has sparked a “paradigmatic rupture,” forcing a reckoning with the colonial underpinnings of international law. Without meaningful reform, the international order risks further erosion, paving the way for unchecked impunity and global instability. The voices of those nations that have demonstrated that they have a moral compass—South Africa and the nations supporting its genocide case against Israel—offer a path forward, demanding accountability and a decolonized framework that prioritizes justice for all.

The Gaza genocide, with its relentless carnage and the world’s inaction to stop it, lays bare the collapse of global conscience and moral courage. Western powers, the self-proclaimed guardians of the post-World War Two order, have rendered “Never Again” a cruel farce and a meaningless public relations exercise, wielded to shield Zionist agendas while Palestinian agony and misery is callously ignored. The heinous nature of the atrocities committed by Israel marks a shattering rupture in humanity’s moral arc, exposing a global system rooted not in justice but in raw power. It is a searing indictment, demanding a new international order where universal human rights are not just rhetoric but reality. To falter or turn away is to admit that "human rights" are a hollow lie, leaving no one’s dignity or safety secure anywhere in the world.

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