1000 days of genocide: A world after the Gaza Genocide (Part 3/3)

A thousand days of genocide in Gaza have revealed the truth about our world—Israel has committed the crime of crimes, the pinnacle of contemporary evil, and Western governments have enabled it.

By Fareed Khan

A version of this article can be found on Substack.

This article can also be found on Rabble.ca.

A thousand days of genocide in Gaza has not only exposed the brutality of Israeli policy and the complicity of Western governments, it has also revealed the machinery that made such violence possible, and part of that machinery is the propaganda apparatus needed to sell genocide to Western publics. No genocide in history has unfolded without such a system to sanitize the violence and dehumanize the victims. In Rwanda, it was Radio Mille Collines. In Nazi Germany, it was Der Stürmer. In Gaza, it has been Western news media.

Across Canada, the United States, and Europe, major outlets softened or erased the reality of Israeli atrocities. Canadian networks—CBC, CTV, Global—and the country’s major newspapers consistently reproduced Israeli government narratives while obscuring Palestinian suffering. They refused to call genocide by its name. They framed mass killing as “conflict,” deliberate starvation as “shortages,” and ethnic cleansing as “evacuation.” This was not a matter of journalistic misjudgment or unconscious bias. It was media complicity. It was the manufacturing of public consent for atrocity, the ideological scaffolding that allowed political leaders to act without accountability. Media executives, editors, and owners bear moral responsibility for this distortion of reality—and if justice ever prevails, they may one day bear legal responsibility as well.

While Western governments and media shielded Israel, the global South took a radically different path. South Africa led the genocide case at the International Court of Justice, invoking the very legal framework the West once claimed as its moral legacy. Brazil, Colombia, Bolivia, Bangladesh, Malaysia, and others condemned Israel’s actions without hesitation. Millions marched across Africa, Asia, Latin America, Europe, and North America protesting and showing an unmistakable divide—one where the West defended genocide, while the global South and those Westerners with a conscience defended international law. This moment marks a profound geopolitical realignment. The Gaza genocide has accelerated the decline of Western influence and the rise of a multipolar world in which Western moral authority no longer carries the weight it once did. Nations that once deferred to Western leadership have seen enough.

The consequences for Western legitimacy are severe and irreversible. The genocide has shattered the West’s credibility on human rights, revealing that its commitment is conditional, racialized, and politically selective. It has exposed the hollowness of its claims to uphold international law, which it seemingly applies only when convenient and discards the moment it threatens Western interests or those of an ally. It has undermined the integrity of Western democracy, as leaders ignored overwhelming public support for a ceasefire, criminalized anti-genocide protests, smeared human rights activists, and attempted to silence dissent. In doing so, it has destroyed any remaining claim to moral leadership on the global stage.

Rebuilding any semblance of a moral order requires accountability—not symbolic gestures, not rhetorical condemnations, but real consequences for nations that commit horrific crimes. That means broad sanctions on Israel, comprehensive arms embargoes, prosecutions at the International Criminal Court, enforcement of the International Court of Justice’s rulings, universal‑jurisdiction cases against perpetrators, reparations for Palestinians, and political consequences for Western leaders who enabled genocide. Canada, the United States, the United Kingdom, Germany, France, and other nations must all face a legal and moral reckoning for their complicity in genocide. Without accountability, the international system will remain what Gaza has revealed it to be, a structure designed to protect the powerful and abandon the vulnerable.

Yet despite the devastation, Palestinians remain resolute, still holding fast to the dream of freedom from Israeli oppression and occupation. Israel has destroyed their homes, schools, hospitals, archives, museums, mosques, and churches. It has tried to erase Palestinian culture, history, and memory. It has targeted intellectuals, artists, journalists, and educators in an effort to extinguish the very sources of cultural continuity. But it has failed. Instead of erasing Palestinian consciousness, it has strengthened it—creating not only a generation of Palestinians more determined than ever to assert their identity, but an international community of supporters who refuse to let their struggle be forgotten.

Palestinian identity endures through oral history, literature, art, music, resistance, and global solidarity. A people cannot be erased as long as they continue to proclaim their existence and tell their story. The resilience of Palestinians—under conditions that would have shattered most societies—stands as one of the most extraordinary expressions of collective endurance in modern history.

A thousand days of genocide in Gaza have revealed the truth about our world. One where Israel has committed the crime of crimes, the pinnacle of contemporary evil. Western governments have enabled it, Western media have sold it, and international institutions have failed to stop it. The global South has risen in moral leadership, while Palestinians have shown extraordinary courage and resilience. The genocide in Gaza is not just a crime against a people—it is a crime against the idea of humanity itself.

The world that emerges from this moment will not resemble the world that existed before it. The West’s moral authority is gone. The human rights system it built is broken. The international legal order it claimed to steward is discredited beyond repair. And Palestinians—despite unimaginable suffering, trauma, and the erasure of entire family lines—remain unbowed. Their endurance has become a moral indictment of the global powers that armed their oppressor and a testament to the human capacity to resist annihilation. History will remember who acted, who remained silent, and who chose complicity over humanity. It will remember the governments and politicians that defended a genocidal state, the media institutions that sanitized its crimes, and the millions who marched in defiance of both. It will remember who stood with the oppressed when the cost of doing so was high.

 

The path forward begins with the truth—unvarnished, unfiltered, and unsoftened. The truth of what happened in Gaza. The truth of who ordered it, who carried out the orders, who enabled it, and the truth of how the world allowed it to continue long after the scale of the atrocity was undeniable. That truth must be followed by accountability, real consequences for those who committed, supported, financed, or justified genocide. Accountability for the political leaders who armed the killing, for the institutions that normalized it, and for the states that obstructed justice at every turn. And it must end with justice for the thousands upon thousands of Palestinian dead, for the families erased from the civil registry, for the tens of thousands of children left orphaned, maimed, and traumatized. It must end with justice for a people who have endured dispossession, occupation, apartheid, and mass killing for generations—a people who are, by every measure, the most persecuted minority of the modern era, not just in the land of historic Palestine but also in the diaspora in Western nations.

 

Without truth, accountability, and justice, Gaza will not be the last genocide. It will be the template for other megalomaniacal leaders to follow. It will mark the beginning of a world in which the powerful kill with impunity and the international community looks away. A world where human rights are a slogan, not a standard. A world where law is a weapon wielded by the strong against the weak. The stakes could not be higher. What happens after the Gaza genocide is finally stopped will determine the moral trajectory of the twenty‑first century—whether humanity chooses a future grounded in justice and universal rights, or whether it descends into an era defined by brutality, impunity, and the normalization of mass atrocity.

 

We must ensure that this moment leads us toward a more just world, not a darker one. Gaza must become the turning point, a beacon, the moment when humanity finally confronts the systems that made genocide possible and chooses to build something better. The world after Gaza is unwritten, and it is ours to shape.

  

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

1000 days of genocide: The collapse of Western moral order (Part 2/3)

The Gaza genocide has shown that Western governments, including Canada’s, have abandoned even the pretense of universal human rights. 

 

By Fareed Khan.

A version of this article can be found on Substack.  

A version of this article has also been published by Rabble.ca. 

 

As the world marked a thousand days of the Gaza genocide today the question is no longer whether Western governments have failed to uphold international law or the principles of justice and equality among peoples. The real question—the one that will define the 21st century—is what it means for the global order when the world’s most powerful democracies enable genocide in real time, with full knowledge, full visibility, and full capacity to stop it.

 
The genocide in Gaza has not only exposed the brutality and inhumanity of Israel and its leadership, it has detonated the foundations of the moral order built on the ashes of World War Two and the Holocaust that the West claimed to embody. For eight decades, Western nations insisted that the horrors of the Holocaust had transformed global ethics. They built institutions—the United Nations, the Genocide Convention, the Geneva Conventions, the International Court of Justice (ICJ), the International Criminal Court (ICC)—designed to prevent future atrocities. They taught generations of children that the world had learned its lesson, that “Never Again” was a universal commitment rather than a slogan.
 
Gaza has revealed that this lesson either was never learned, or if it was it has been abandoned. And it has shown that Western governments, including Canada’s, have abandoned even the pretense of universal human rights.
 
The genocide in Gaza is “worse” than the Holocaust in one devastating sense. It is happening in full view of the world, livestreamed, documented, and preventable—yet allowed to continue. The world of the 1930s and 1940s did not have instant communications, or international legal mechanisms capable of intervening in real time. The world of 2023–2026 does. And yet Western governments chose complicity. This is not a failure of intelligence. It is a failure of morality and of humanity.
 
It seems the West’s commitment to “Never Again” was never universal. It was selective, conditional, and politically instrumental. It applied when the perpetrators were enemies, not allies; when the victims were white, not brown; European, not Palestinian or Arab; Christian or Jewish, not Muslim. The moral authority the West claimed after 1945 has evaporated. The world has seen the truth. Western humanity is an illusion, a performance that collapses the moment it conflicts with geopolitical or economic interests.
 
International law as a system of Western power
 
The Genocide Convention imposes three obligations on signatory states: to prevent genocide, to punish genocide, and to refrain from aiding or abetting genocide. The United States, the United Kingdom, Germany, France, Canada, and other Western democracies have violated all three. These are the nations that helped design the post‑1945 legal order, that claimed to be its guardians, and that possess the political, economic, and military leverage to enforce it. Yet when confronted with a genocide carried out by an ally, they abandoned the law entirely and behaved like outlaws. Their failure is not passive. It is an active and deliberate dereliction of duty that exposes how deeply the international system is shaped by power rather than principles of justice.
 
The UN Charter prohibits aggression, annexation, collective punishment, the targeting of civilians, and the destruction of civilian infrastructure. Israel has violated each of these on multiple occasions since 1948, and is currently doing so in the south of Lebanon.  And rather than legal, political and economic sanctions, Western governments have responded with weapons, diplomatic protection, and political support, essentially allowing Israel to do what it wants. The Geneva Conventions prohibit starvation of civilians, attacks on hospitals and schools, assaults on refugee camps, and forced displacement. Israel has committed all these crimes openly with impunity, and its Western allies have done nothing to stop it.
 
The International Criminal Court issued arrest warrants for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and former Defence Minister Yoav Gallant—an unprecedented step that should have galvanized Western democracies to defend the very system of international justice they claim to uphold. Instead, Canada and its allies attacked the Court itself, undermining its legitimacy, threatening its prosecutors and judges, and even imposing sanctions on ICC officials for daring to pursue accountability. Israel’s own security establishment joined in, with the former head of Mossad reportedly threatening the ICC’s chief prosecutor in an effort to pressure the Court into dropping a war crimes investigation.
 
The message is unmistakable. For Western governments, international law is not a universal framework but a weapon wielded selectively against nations it wishes to control or punish. It binds the weak, never the powerful. It restrains adversaries, never allies. The architecture of global justice collapses the moment it threatens those with real geopolitical influence globally.
 
Canada’s complicity: A case study in moral abdication
 
If Canada were genuinely committed to international law as it has so often claimed over the years, its actions would have been clear and decisive. It would have imposed a full arms embargo on Israel, suspended the Canada–Israel Free Trade Agreement, sanctioned Israeli political and military leaders responsible for atrocities, supported South Africa’s genocide case against Israel at the ICJ, expelled the Israeli ambassador, recalled its own ambassador from Tel Aviv, and initiated universal‑jurisdiction prosecutions against those implicated in genocidal crimes in Gaza, including Canadians who have travelled to Israel to join the Israeli military since 2023. None of these measures are radical. They are the minimum legal obligations of any state party to the Genocide Convention when confronted with a nation committing genocide.
 
Instead, Canada retreated into symbolic gestures and empty rhetoric. Both the Trudeau government and the Carney government failed—not because they lacked legal tools, but because they lacked courage and integrity. They feared the political cost of confronting the powerful pro‑Israel lobby in Canada that exerts enormous influence over Canadian foreign policy. They placed strategic alliances above human life. They treated Palestinian suffering as something to be managed rather than confronted. Their decisions revealed a worldview in which Palestinians were not regarded as fully human, and therefore not entitled to the same urgency, protection, or moral consideration afforded to others.
 
The contrast with Canada’s response to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine exposes this double standard with brutal clarity. Canada acted decisively for Ukraine—sanctions, diplomatic isolation, military support—and even declared Russia’s actions “genocide,” despite the absence of consensus among genocide scholars. Yet when confronted with overwhelming expert consensus that Israel’s actions in Gaza constitute genocide, Canada refused to use the word at all. It acted decisively for white Christian Europeans and symbolically for brown and primarily Muslim Palestinians.
 
This is not neutrality. It is complicity.
 
The end of Western legitimacy
 
The genocide in Gaza has torn away the last shreds of the illusion that the so‑called “rules‑based international order” is grounded in law, principle, or universal human rights. It has exposed that order for what it has always been: a hierarchy of power masquerading as morality, designed and enforced by Western states to protect their interests, not humanity. In Gaza, the West did not merely fail to uphold its professed values—it abandoned them with breathtaking clarity. Canada, the United States, and Europe watched an entire people starved, bombed, forcibly displaced, and massacred, and instead of intervening chose to arm the perpetrators, shield them diplomatically, and sabotage every attempt at accountability. The moral authority the West claimed after 1945—invoking “Never Again” as a universal promise—has collapsed under the weight of its own hypocrisy. The world has seen the truth, and it will not be forgotten. There is no moral leadership among Western nations; they have revealed themselves as rogue actors, outlaws in suits, indifferent to the suffering of those who are not like them or of them. Their claim to being the moral guardians of the world order has been shattered, and no amount of rhetoric, no invocation of past virtue, can restore it.
 
And it is precisely at this moment—when Western legitimacy disintegrates in full view—that the story of the world after Gaza begins.
 
The collapse of the moral order the West claimed to uphold has opened a new and profoundly uncertain chapter in world history—one defined not only by global realignment and the erosion of Western credibility, but by the emergence of a multipolar world in which Western governments can no longer dictate the terms of international politics. The genocide in Gaza has become the catalyst for this shift. It has exposed the limits of Western power and the bankruptcy of Western moral claims, and it has emboldened states across the Global South to assert their own visions of justice, sovereignty, and human dignity. The steadfastness of the Palestinian people—their refusal to disappear despite 78 years of occupation, dispossession, apartheid, and brutal oppression—has become a rallying point for a world no longer willing to accept Western double standards as natural law. In Africa, Asia, Latin America, and the Middle East, governments and civil societies have spoken with remarkable clarity—they reject Western hypocrisy, they reject Western exceptionalism, and they overwhelmingly support the Palestinian struggle for freedom. Their voices, once dismissed or patronized, now carry weight in a world where Western authority is visibly crumbling.
 
This is the landscape of the world after Gaza: a world in which uncertainty is the new order of the day, not because chaos reigns, but because the old certainties—Western dominance, Western rule‑making, Western moral superiority—have been shattered. The Global South is no longer content to be lectured by nations that arm genocide while preaching human rights. It is demanding a seat at the table, demanding accountability, demanding a new international order built not on coercion but on genuine universality. Activists, scholars, and ordinary citizens across the planet are reassessing the foundations of global politics, asking who truly speaks for justice and who merely speaks for power. The question now confronting humanity is profound and unavoidable: what kind of world will emerge from this moment, and who will shape it? Gaza has become the fault line between the collapsing old order and the uncertain but potentially transformative new one. The future will be written not by those who clung to hypocrisy and self-interest, but by those who confronted it, rejected it, and insisted on a different path—one in which Palestinians, and the Global South more broadly, are no longer subjects of Western policy but authors of their own destiny.
 
In the end, the world after Gaza will not be shaped by Western governments clinging to a crumbling order, but by the billions who refused to accept that order’s brutality as inevitable. The uncertainty ahead is real, but it is also an opening—a rupture through which new possibilities can emerge, driven by the moral clarity of those who see the movement to bring freedom to Palestinians as an inflection point, and the unyielding struggle of Palestinians themselves. What comes next will be contested, turbulent, and transformative. But one truth is already unmistakable: the age of Western moral dominance is over, and a new global conversation—one that the West can no longer monopolize—has begun.

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

1000 days of genocide: A story of Western immorality and Israeli inhumanity (Part 1/3)

The Gaza genocide has exposed the end of the post‑1945 human‑rights order, showing that international law for powerful states is applied selectively. 

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

A version of this article has also been published by Rabble.ca.

On July 3, 2026 the world will cross a threshold that should never exist—a thousand days of Israel’s genocide in Gaza. A thousand days of mass murder, starvation, displacement, cultural destruction, and the systematic annihilation of a people and society. A thousand days during which Western governments have not merely failed to stop the genocide, but have actively enabled it. A thousand days in which the mask of Western “humanity,” “values,” and “moral leadership” has fallen away, revealing a political order that has decided that Palestinians are less than human and that their lives are disposable.

For the better part of three years, the world has watched the destruction of Gaza unfold in real time. Every major human‑rights organization—Human Rights Watch, Amnesty International, B’Tselem, Physicians for Human Rights Israel, the International Federation for Human Rights and others—has documented patterns of killing, destruction, and dehumanizing rhetoric. Each eventually concluded that Israel’s actions meet the legal definition of genocide under the Genocide Convention. Prominent Israeli Holocaust scholars such as Omer Bartov, Amos Goldberg, and Raz Segal, affirmed the same. United Nations agencies have also repeatedly warned that Israel’s actions constituted genocide.

Yet despite overwhelming evidence, Canada and most of its allies refused to acknowledge the crime. Worse, they continued to supply Israel with weapons, diplomatic cover, and political legitimacy. The United States remained the primary enabler, but Canada, the UK, Germany, France, and others played indispensable supporting roles. Canada exploited a legislative loophole that allowed it to continue exporting weapons and components to Israel via the United States, even as Gaza’s hospitals, universities, refugee camps, and entire neighbourhoods were reduced to rubble.

Western governments have made the truth impossible to deny. Through both their actions and their refusals to act, they have effectively endorsed Israel’s project of erasing the Palestinian population of Gaza. Their persistent refusal to intervene anywhere in the occupied Palestinian territories—Gaza, the West Bank, or East Jerusalem—signals not neutrality or support for a two‑state compromise, but alignment with Israel’s long‑standing ambition to consolidate a “Greater Israel” cleansed of its Indigenous Palestinian population. For decades, Western leaders cloaked this alignment behind the language of a “two‑state solution,” a phrase repeated so often it became a diplomatic reflex rather than a genuine policy. In practice, it functioned as a convenient fiction—an empty slogan used to mask Western complicity in Israel’s expansionist, settler‑colonial agenda and to obscure the reality that their actions consistently advanced the very outcome they claimed to oppose.

A 78 year record of enabling Israeli impunity

If Western governments had ever truly intended to uphold international law, the UN Charter, or the Genocide Convention, they would have acted long before genocidal violence was initiated by Israel in the fall of 2023. Israel’s history since 1948 is a catalogue of violations of the very legal instruments the West claims to defend:

• Ethnic cleansing and mass displacement during the Nakba in 1948;
• Illegal settlement expansion in the West Bank and East Jerusalem;
• Systematic apartheid, as documented by Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and B’Tselem;
• Repeated wars on Gaza, each involving mass civilian casualties—in 2008–09, 2012, 2014, and the ongoing Gaza genocide since 2023;
• Targeting of journalists, medics, and children;
• Collective punishment, prohibited under the Geneva Conventions; and
• Annexation of occupied territory, which is illegal under the UN Charter.

For decades, Western governments responded with statements of “concern,” “regret,” or “alarm”—but never with meaningful action. No sanctions. No arms embargoes. No diplomatic isolation. No accountability.

This is not mere failure. It is deliberate policy.

The West’s unwavering support for Israel—political, military, economic, and ideological—created the conditions in which genocide could occur openly, livestreamed to the world, without consequence. In the process, the so-called “international rules‑based order” has been exposed as a selective system designed to protect Western allies and punish Western adversaries. Palestinians, like many non‑Western peoples, were never part of the moral universe that order claimed to defend.

The death of the responsibility to protect

After the genocides in Rwanda and Srebrenica, the UN adopted the doctrine of Responsibility to Protect (R2P), committing states to intervene when mass atrocities occur. Gaza has proven that R2P is a hollow promise. If Western leaders possessed even a fraction of the humanity they claim, they would have invoked R2P the moment genocide was affirmed by the International Association of Genocide Scholars, UN agencies, Human Rights Watch, Amnesty International, Israeli human‑rights groups, and leading Holocaust scholars.

Instead, Western governments did the opposite. They shielded Israel from accountability, vetoed UN ceasefire resolutions, and continued supplying weapons. The message to the world was unmistakable: Palestinian lives do not trigger Western moral obligations.

Canada’s Hypocrisy

Canada’s political class—under both the Justin Trudeau and Mark Carney governments—has perfected the art of moral posturing while enabling atrocity. Canadian leaders routinely describe Canada as a defender of human rights, a champion of the UN, and a guardian of the “rules‑based international order.” Yet Canada violated its legal obligations under the UN Charter and the Genocide Convention by refusing to take the actions required when genocide is occurring.

If Canada were truly committed to international law, it would have:

• Imposed a full arms embargo on Israel;
• Suspended the Canada–Israel Free Trade Agreement;
• Sanctioned Israeli political and military leaders responsible for genocidal acts;
• Supported South Africa’s genocide case at the International Court of Justicde (ICJ), as NATO allies Belgium, Iceland, the Netherlands, Spain, Turkiye, along with 16 other countries have done;
• Expelled the Israeli ambassador and recalled Canada’s ambassador; and
• Launched universal‑jurisdiction prosecutions against top Israeli political and military officials.

These actions are not radical. They represent the bare minimum required under the principles of basic morality when genocide is unfolding. Yet Canada undertook none of them. Instead, it continued exporting weapons—often through loopholes—and hid behind symbolic gestures that carried no material consequence for Israel. Its belated, heavily conditioned “recognition” of Palestine, while welcomed, did nothing on the ground, offered no protection to Palestinians, and imposed no cost on Israel. Such gestures function as political theatre designed to placate public outrage while allowing Canada to maintain alignment with Israeli policy.

A Study in Racialized Morality

The clearest demonstration of Western hypocrisy is the contrast between the response to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022 and the response to Israel’s genocide in Gaza.

When Russia invaded Ukraine, Canada acted with speed and moral clarity: sanctions, diplomatic isolation, asset freezes, ICC support, and a unanimous parliamentary declaration of “genocide.” Yet when Israel began its genocide in Gaza, Canada imposed no sanctions, no arms embargo, no diplomatic isolation, no accountability mechanisms, and refused to acknowledge genocide at all.

The only difference between the two cases is the identity of the victims and the political alignment of the aggressors. Ukrainians are white, European, primarily Christian, and aligned with the West. Palestinians are Indigenous, Arab, Muslim, and colonized by a Western ally.

This is not diplomacy. It is the operationalization of a racial hierarchy—a worldview in which the rights, lives, and suffering of some peoples are treated as inherently more valuable than those of others.

A Thousand Days That Changed the World

As the world marks a thousand days of genocide in Gaza, something fundamental has shifted. The world has watched Western inhumanity and Israeli brutality exposed with a clarity that cannot be undone. The illusion of Western moral superiority—already eroding for years—has now collapsed entirely. The global South sees it. Millions across Europe, Asia, Africa, and the Americas see it. Even within Israel, a small but courageous minority sees it.

This moment forces a reckoning. What does it mean for the future of the international system when the world’s most powerful democracies enable genocide? What does it reveal about the structures of law, morality, and global governance that were supposedly built to prevent such crimes? And what does it demand of nations like Canada, which helped make this atrocity possible?

The Gaza genocide has exposed the end of the post‑1945 human‑rights order. It has shown that accountability for powerful states is optional, that international law is applied selectively, and that the principles the West claims to uphold collapse the moment they conflict with geopolitical interests. A thousand days of genocide have laid bare a truth the world can no longer ignore: the system is broken, and those who enabled this crime must one day face a reckoning worthy of its scale.

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

An allegory about Palestinian oppression, suffering and erasure

Sometimes rather than explaining global events in geopolitical terms it requires telling a story to which ordinary people can personally connect.

 

By Fareed Khan

A version of this article can be found on Substack.

So imagine if someone showed up at your home, a place where you and your extended family have lived for generations, and said, “I’m moving into your house.”

You would laugh at first, because who says something like that. But then the person pushes their way through the door, carrying old papers and documents, and a confidence so absolute it feels unreal. You ask why they think they can just walk in. They hold up a faded document and declare, “My great, great, great, great grandfather lived here once. That means this home is rightfully mine.”

You stare at them, confused. Your family has lived in this house for generations. You have the keys, the deed, the memories, the photographs, the stories. Every corner of the home carries the imprint of your life. But this stranger insists that a distant ancestor’s presence—centuries ago—gives them the right to reclaim everything you built, and the land on which it sits.

Before you can process what’s happening, they push past you and your family and head upstairs to claim the guest room.

At first, the intruder insists it’s only symbolic, a small space that “means a lot.” You resist, but the authorities tell you to be reasonable, to compromise, to make room for someone whose claim they view as legitimate. Refusal, you’re warned, would make you the unreasonable one. The authorities even help the intruder settle in and assist them in inviting other relatives.

Soon, more rooms are taken—one after another—to accommodate their growing family. When you push back, the authorities threaten you with charges. Each expansion is framed as necessary, as part of reclaiming what was “always theirs.” You’re assured you still have plenty of space, even as your world shrinks around you.

Your children end up sharing a single bedroom. Your parents are moved into the hallway. Your kitchen becomes a narrow strip of counter you’re allowed to use only at certain hours. The living room—once the heart of your family—now has a locked gate, and you must request permission to enter.

You protest. You show your deed, your family photos, the bills you’ve paid, the repairs you’ve made. None of it matters. The intruders dismiss it all, and the authorities echo their indifference.

“My ancestor was here first,” the intruder repeats. “That’s the only thing that matters.”

Then their friends begin arriving at the intruder’s invitation.

Not one or two—dozens. They arrive with boxes, furniture, tools, and a sense of entitlement that mirrors the first intruder’s. They spread across the house, occupying rooms you never agreed to give up. They claim they’re helping “restore the home to its rightful owners.” Your presence, they insist, is temporary—tolerated only because removing you all at once would be troublesome.

Any objection is treated as aggression. Defending your own home is framed as a threat. Your resistance becomes proof, in their eyes, that you don’t deserve the shrinking space you still occupy.

Locks appear everywhere. Doors once open now have metal bars. Windows you used to open for fresh air are sealed shut. You’re told it’s for “security,” for “order,” and that good behavior might lead to fewer restrictions.

It never does.

Instead, the intruders begin building new rooms—extensions, additions, expansions—right on top of your garden, your yard, your driveway. They pave over the soil where your grandparents planted olive trees. They tear down the shed your father built with his own hands. They erect fences that slice through your property, separating your family from one another.

When you ask why, the intruders shrug. “We need more living space. And this home was always meant for us.”

You remind them of their earlier promises to leave certain areas untouched—spaces where your family could still live with dignity. They nod politely, then quietly build over those areas too. Everything is justified as temporary, as necessary, as something you should be grateful isn’t worse.

Meanwhile, you’re squeezed into smaller and smaller corners. You’re forbidden from renovating, expanding, or even fixing a broken window without permission. The intruders, however, build freely and endlessly. They even restrict your access to the bathroom and ration your water, while using as much as they please.

One morning, you wake to find that the room you were sleeping in has been reclassified as “disputed space.” You’re allowed to stay only if you remain silent, avoid drawing attention, and never mention that this was your home long before the intruders arrived.

Your children grow up hearing the intruders tell visitors, “This house was empty when we arrived,” or “The family living here never really belonged,” or “We brought civility to this place.” Your children look to you for clarity. They know the truth, but the intruders speak with such authority—and the local authorities reinforce their claims—that the broader community begins to believe them.

Then comes the inversion of reality. The intruders begin accusing you of being the trespasser.

You’re told you don’t belong. You’re told you should be grateful for whatever scraps of space remain. Your presence is framed as the obstacle to peace. If only you stopped insisting on your rights, everything would supposedly be fine.

This is said while the intruders sit in your living room, holding your keys, lounging on your family’s furniture which they now claim as their own..

When you try to tell your story—when you try to explain what happened, when you try to show the community the truth—the authorities silence you. Your account is dismissed as “too political,” “too emotional,” or “too upsetting for the intruders.” Acknowledging your history is labeled “controversial.”

Imagine that. Being told that the theft of your home is a sensitive topic, and that the feelings of those who took it matter more than the reality of what your family endured. Imagine being told your history is optional, debatable, or inconvenient. Imagine being told your suffering must be softened or erased so the intruders can feel comfortable in the house they stole.

Now imagine living like this not for a day, nor for a year, but for generations.

Imagine raising children who have never known safety in their own home. Imagine growing old in a place where every door is controlled by someone else, and being told repeatedly that you should be grateful for whatever space you’re allowed to occupy.

And then imagine being blamed for the entire situation.

As the years pass, something even darker unfolds. The intruders begin speaking openly about your family as if you are pests. They use words meant to strip you of your humanity—cockroaches, snakes, human animals. These slurs are tossed around casually, as if describing vermin rather than the human beings whose home they invaded.

At first, you think it’s just hateful language. But the language becomes a prelude to violence.

One night, one of the intruders corners your eldest son in the hallway. Your son dares to assert that this is his home, that he has a right to walk freely in it. The intruder responds with lethal force. Your son does not survive.

When you demand justice, the intruders dismiss your grief and the authorities express “regret” but support them. Your son is branded “dangerous,” accused of provoking the attack. Had he stayed in the tiny corner allotted to your family, they insist, he would still be alive.

You’re not allowed to mourn openly. Cry too loudly and you’re accused of disturbing the peace. Speak your son’s name and you’re accused of incitement. Try to tell visitors what happened and the intruders cut you off, calling you a liar.

Their friends and the authorities nod along. They admire the polished floors and expanded wings, pretending not to see the broken rooms where your family now sleeps. They praise the intruders’ “restoration work,” ignoring the fact that the home was beautiful, whole and thriving before it was invaded and taken over.

When you show these visitors old photographs proving your family lived here long before the intruders, they dismiss the evidence as “inconclusive” or “too complicated.” Dwelling on history, they warn, might “inflame tensions.” Some even accuse you of rewriting the story.

Meanwhile, the intruders grow bolder. They patrol the hallways with weapons, claiming it’s for their safety. Your presence, they insist, is the threat. If you weren’t so “hostile,” they wouldn’t need to defend themselves.

But you know the truth. The weapons are tools of domination.

One afternoon, your daughter tries to retrieve a favorite book from the bedroom that used to be hers. An intruder blocks her path. She is small, frightened, and desperate to reclaim a piece of her childhood. When she reaches for the book, the intruder reacts with lethal force.

You bury another child.

Once again, the intruders blame you. Your daughter “shouldn’t have been there.” She “posed a risk.” Her death is described as “regrettable” but the intruder had “no choice.”

The authorities—who claim to be neutral and care about justice—look uncomfortable for a moment, then return to admiring the intruders’ new kitchen remodel. You’re urged to “move on,” to “focus on the future,” to stop talking about what happened.

You realize the authorities favour the intruders. They have chosen to ignore the truth because acknowledging it would require confronting the injustice they have supported for years through their actions and inaction.

The intruders continue expanding, building new rooms on top of your children’s graves. They celebrate their “progress.” They host parties in the home they stole, toasting their own “resilience” and “security,” never mentioning the ugliness and brutality that made it possible.

Your family, once whole, now lives in fear, grief, and suffocating confinement. You cling to memories of what the home once was, even as the intruders insist those memories are false.

And through it all, they repeat the same refrain: “This house was always ours.”

They speak with such confidence that outsiders believe them. They repeat it so often that even some in the community begin to doubt the historical truth.

But you remember.  You remember every room, every wall, every tree in the yard. You remember the laughter that once filled the halls. You remember the life your family built long before the intruders arrived with their ancestor’s distant claim.

And you know—with a clarity that cannot be erased—that what happened to your home was not fate, not destiny, not a misunderstanding.  It was theft.  It was violence.

It was the deliberate erasure of a people’s place in the world.

And no amount of denial, propaganda, or dehumanizing language can change the truth of what was taken from you.

The end of the story hasn’t been written.  Because the intruders—Zionists and their supporters—will face justice one day for taking from the homeowner—Palestinians—their rights, their dignity, their property, their possessions, and their lives.

The Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. said “The arc of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice.”  And that is why Palestinians will ultimately prevail, despite the bleakness they have endured for generations.  Ultimately, Palestinians will be free from the river to the sea. Because that is their destiny.

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

Gaza is not an aberration - Israel planned this genocide decades ago

I don’t usually repost the writings of others. But the article published yesterday (June 11, 2026) by British journalist Jonathan Cook tells the story of anti‑Palestinian hatred and Israeli brutality in a way I never could. It needs to be shared widely. Send it to your Member of Parliament, or to any politician whose eyes you want opened to the level of evil we are witnessing as Israel commits atrocities against Palestinians.

Cook lays out, with devastating precision, how the Gaza genocide was not spontaneous or accidental but planned by Israel decades ago. The horrors we see today—mass murder, rape, the killing of children and babies, the deliberate starvation of an entire population—are not exceptions. They are standard operating procedure for an Israeli military that has acted with impunity for generations, all in full view of world leaders and the global media.

Drawing on testimony from former Israeli soldiers, Cook describes a nation behaving with the same cold, dehumanizing cruelty that the Nazis once inflicted on Jews. His reporting exposes a political and military culture, and a society built on the systematic denial of Palestinian humanity. It reveals a leadership and an army whose goal is nothing less than the eradication of Palestinians from Gaza and from every territory under Israeli control.

If this is not the height of evil in the world today, then the word has lost all meaning. 

 

~ Fareed Khan 

Canada's complicity in Gaza genocide shows its leaders are morally bankrupt

The current crisis is rooted in decades of a brutal occupation, peace processes repeatedly sabotaged by Israel, and repeated incidents of Israeli war crimes and crimes against humanity.

 

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

 

Last week, Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney issued a strong public condemnation following a social media post by Israeli National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir. The post included footage of activists from the Global Sumud Flotilla—who were attempting to deliver humanitarian aid to Gaza—being intercepted by Israeli forces in international waters. The video showed the activists bound and held in stress positions while Ben-Gvir taunted and insulted them. Carney stated: “The abominable treatment of civilians aboard the flotilla, including that which is documented in footage shared by Itamar Ben-Gvir, is unacceptable.”

This selective outrage exposes a glaring moral inconsistency at the heart of Carney’s foreign policy. While his government rightly condemns specific abuses against flotilla participants—including Canadian citizens—it continues to pursue policies that fuel a far broader conflict, enabling civilian suffering on a horrifying scale, including the sale of Canadian weapons to Israel. Critics rightly argue that this reveals a government that is both unacceptable and morally bankrupt—one that maintains normalized relations with a state accused of genocide, while turning a blind eye to Canadian-made weapons and components flowing to Israel as it brutalizes a helpless population.

The Gaza genocide, triggered by Hamas’s October 7, 2023 attacks, has escalated into one of the deadliest episodes of mass violence in the region’s history since the Iraq War and the Syrian civil war. According to data released by Euromed Human Rights Monitor, the only organization providing independent death toll figures, it is estimated that more than 80,000 Palestinians have been killed as of the end of May 2026, with estimates that there may be anywhere from 377,000 to more than 680,000 buried under Gaza’s rubble, most of them women and children. Entire neighbourhoods have been devastated, infrastructure including hospitals, schools, and water systems lies in ruins, and mass displacement has occurred repeatedly creating a refugee population of approximately 1.9 million.

Multiple respected organizations have concluded that Israel’s actions meet the legal threshold for genocide--defined under the 1948 UN Genocide Convention as acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnic, racial, or religious group. These include:

• Amnesty International: Documented “sufficient basis” for genocide, citing killings, serious harm, and conditions calculated to bring about physical destruction.
• Human Rights Watch: Accused Israel of genocidal acts, including deprivation of water and essential resources.
• B’Tselem and Physicians for Human Rights Israel: Prominent Israeli organizations that examined policies, official statements, and outcomes, concluding coordinated action to destroy Palestinian society in Gaza.
• International Association of Genocide Scholars (IAGS): Declared Israel’s policies constitute genocide, war crimes, and crimes against humanity, citing mass civilian casualties, destruction of life-sustaining systems, and targeting of children.
• United Nations bodies and experts: Various reports and special rapporteurs have highlighted patterns consistent with genocide characteristics, including starvation as a weapon and widespread destruction.

Noted Israeli Holocaust and genocide scholars, have added weight to these assessments by drawing on direct evidence from within Israeli society, including a poll published by Haaretz in May 2025 which reported that 47% of Israel Jews support the genocide of Palestinians in Gaza, and 82% who support their ethnic cleansing, and 56% support ethnically cleansing all Palestinians from territories controlled by Israel. These are not fringe views but conclusions from rigorous documentation by human rights monitors, legal analysts, and scholars.

Canada’s Role: Arms Exports and Complicity

Despite these findings, Canada under Prime Minister Mark Carney (as well as former PM Justin Trudeau) has maintained elements of military cooperation with Israel. While direct export permits to Israel were paused, loopholes persist which allow components routed through the United States. Reports from civil society and parliamentarians indicate ongoing flows of Canadian-made weapons and technology, contradicting claims of a full embargo.

This is unacceptable. International law, including the Arms Trade Treaty and Canada’s own Export and Import Permits Act, imposes obligations to halt transfers where there is a clear risk of use in serious violations of international humanitarian law or genocide. Continuing such sales—directly or indirectly—implicates Canada in prolonging the suffering. Critics, including NDP voices and groups like Oxfam and Unifor, argue this breaches both domestic commitments and international duties.

Carney’s government singles out figures like Ben-Gvir for sanctions while sustaining the broader military relationship with Israel. Ben-Gvir is an extremist, but focusing solely on him distracts from systemic issues: the 19 year blockade of Gaza (deemed collective punishment by many), illegal settlement expansion in the West Bank (a violation under international law), and the human toll in the Gaza genocide. Official Israeli statements invoking “erasing” threats or total destruction, combined with operational outcomes, fuel the genocide determinations of international voices.

Historical Context and Moral Failure

The current crisis did not emerge in a vacuum. It is rooted in decades of a brutal occupation, peace processes repeatedly sabotaged by Israel which has voted against the creation of a Palestinian state, and repeated incidents of Israeli war crimes and crimes against humanity. Israel’s right to security after October 7, 2023 is clear. However, international humanitarian law requires that any response respect the principles of proportionality, distinction between combatants and civilians, and the prohibition on collective punishment. Critics argue that Israel has disregarded these obligations. The immense scale of destruction in Gaza—death toll estimates of up to 30% of the population, the erasure of entire family lines, and the devastation of cultural and educational infrastructure—has prompted serious questions about whether the campaign goes beyond legitimate self-defence and reflects an intent to inflict indiscriminate harm on an entire society.

A morally coherent policy for Canada would be to impose a comprehensive two-way arms embargo, push for accountability for Israel at the ICC and ICJ, suspend the Canada-Israel free trade agreement, call for an end to the occupation, and support a viable political solution that pursues freedom and justice for Palestinians. Instead, Carney’s selective statements and dangerous comments about a “Zionist Palestinian state”, and continued arms exports project ignorance and hypocrisy. Condemning flotilla abuses while enabling the larger machinery of war undermines Canada’s claimed commitment to human rights and the so-called “rules-based international order.” This is not mere policy disagreement. It is moral bankruptcy. When a government prioritizes alliances and trade over halting contributions to alleged genocide—despite warnings from Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, Israeli NGOs, the UN, and genocide scholars—Canada forfeits ethical legitimacy. Canadians deserve better--a foreign policy grounded in consistent principles, not selective indignation.

The flotilla incident is abominable but not surprising given Israel’s criminal leadership. Far more so is the tolerance of policies enabling mass death and destruction. Prime Minister Carney must end all Canadian military support and cooperation with Israel, lead in international accountability efforts against a state committing genocide, and align pro-human rights rhetoric with actions that uphold universal human dignity. Anything less remains unacceptable.
  
© 2026 The View From Here. © 2026 Fareed Khan. All Rights Reserved.