Performative, But Not Necessarily Valueless, Politics

While it has limited value and smacks of political theatre, it is, as they say, a good start. 

Canada, alongside four other countries, is formally sanctioning two Israeli ministers for comments they say are “incitements of violence against Palestinian communities.”

The sanctions were announced by the foreign ministers of Canada, the United Kingdom, Australia, New Zealand and Norway on Tuesday in a joint statement.

Israeli National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir and Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich will both see their assets frozen and face travel bans.

Both men face sanctions for being “responsible for, engaging in, inciting, promoting and/or supporting activity which amounts to a serious abuse of the right of individuals not to be subjected to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment, in particular acts of aggression and violence against Palestinian individuals in the West Bank.”

“These two individuals promoted extremist settler violence and it has to stop,” said Canadian Foreign Affairs Minister Anita Anand on Tuesday afternoon.

While the sanctions have limited value in and of themselves, they at least mark a departure from the former Trudeau government's slavish adherence to America's stance on Israel. And, delightfully, that new stance has inflamed the U.S.

The United States has condemned Canada and four other countries for imposing sanctions on two Israeli cabinet ministers.

 Secretary of State Marco Rubio said in a statement the United States urges the countries to reverse the sanctions.

Rubio says the sanctions do not advance the United States' efforts to achieve a ceasefire in the region, bring home hostages and end the war.

Since the Yanks always stand "shoulder to shoulder with Israel," as they like to say, Rubio's response is predictably reflexive and  senseless, as is much of America's contemporary foreign policy. The real problem, in my view, is the limited nature of the sanctions. Why restrict them to two cabinet ministers?

NDP foreign affairs critic Heather McPherson said Canada should be sanctioning all senior members of Netanyahu's government.

"Canada should respect international law and sanction Netanyahu and his cabinet immediately for their role in the genocide of Gaza. All Israeli officials who incite or are responsible for genocide should be sanctioned," McPherson said in a media statement. 

In what is becoming a rudderless world, that, apparently, would be a bridge too far for the West, However, one can live in hope that spines will grow as the senseless slaughter of Palestinians continues apace. 

Back From La Belle Province

Travel, as they say, broadens one's perspective, and even though I am getting long in the tooth, I am still open to learning things. One impression I take from our sojourn in Montreal is that its citizens have a different approach to getting around their city. In addition to an extensive subway system is their quite impressive network of bike lanes, which we seemed to encounter everywhere we went. As well, their Bixi Bike share program is thriving; by all observations it is very, very well-used.

While I know little about the city's politics, I was struck by the fact that cars really don't seem to be granted the status of near-godhood they enjoy in places like Toronto. While Ontario's Premier Ford is intent upon ripping up bike lanes there, Montreal enjoys a bikeways network of over 3400 kilometres, and the lanes seem to be everywhere you can imagine. 

Another notable observation is the wealth of EV cars, partly attributable, I suppose, to the fact that Quebec retains a subsidy for the vehicles. As well, there seemed to be pedestrians everywhere. Walking is clearly encouraged, as many streets are currently pedestrian only, with restaurants (outdoor patios abound) and hawkers taking advantage of the space.

The streetlife is reminiscent of what one finds in Europe, which is no surprise given Quebec's distinctive status. And the strangest thing is that congestion did not seem to be especially bad, at least when I was driving. A shame we can't import that sensibility to other parts of the country, especially Ontario, where people grow apoplectic at the mere mention of taking out a lane or closing down a street for a weekend.  

That's it for now. I leave you with a picture of Shwartz's famous smoked meat sandwich. Regular programming will resume shortly.

Doing Our Part

As part of our 'new' relationship with the United States, Canadians are being encourage

d to vacation in our own country rather than spend our dollars in a hostile nation. For me, that is not a problem, since I have not been there since 2016 and have no intention of ever travelling there again. 

And more and more Canadians are making that decision, with significant impact:

There appears to be no turning back on the journey away from the United States. Its animosity, its many dangers, are roadsigns all of us should heed.

Special Note: We will be doing our part in supporting our country by taking a little road trip to Montreal, starting today. See you when we get back.

Life Must Be Simple For The Simple

There are times when one almost envies the simple person who can accept things at face value. For them, there is nothing to see here:

‪Aaron Rupar‬ ‪@atrupar.com‬

· 10h

BASH: Is it fair to say that what you are doing now is in part enacting Project 2025? VOUGHT: No, of course not. (This is a blatant lie.)

More About Diffeences

In my previous post, I discussed a few of the differences with the U.S. that make Canada the country it is. I contrasted our more welcoming natures with the increasing suspicion of 'the other' in the U.S., currently reflected in that its efforts to drive foreign students from Harvard and other universities.

Canadians have often been pilloried for allegedly having a weak sense of national identity, frquently defining ourselves only as "not American". It almost implies that if our foes friends to the south ceased to exist, we would be condemned to a cultural void, having lost any basis for identity.

But what does 'not being American' really mean? I'll return to that question in a moment, but please first watch the following video about one man's experience with American healthcare.

Interesting, isn't it, that the only real criticism here is not the massive cost for a six-day hospital stay but only understanding the charges. Perhaps that is what comes from growing up in a culture where the idea of 'socialized medicine' is anathema, and that paying through the nose for medical treatment is 'the American way'.

So yes, we are not American in that we have public healthcare. Despite complaints about long wait-times for elective procedures, it is obviously far superior to the private model. But looking beneath the surface, consider what it really means. Our public system, funded by all taxpayers, represents a value system whereby we look after each other, rather than consign a person's fate to either the good fortune of having a private insurance plan, paying out of pocket, or quietly expiring from a lack of timely medical intervention.

We purposely sacrifice a little more take-home pay, paying the taxes that make the common good a priority. Obviously, there are many other examples of our "not being American," but healthcare is one of the touchstones of those differences.

Prizing the collective good or extolling rugged individualism? For me, and for most Canadians, the choice is clear.

Reflections On Differences

While there is much favourable talk about King Charles' Throne Speech yesterday, from my point of view the most important aspect was his emphasis on Canada as a distinct nation, one with a history and ties to something much larger than ourselves. We have a culture and a character and ideals that need to be savoured and promoted. If there ever was a time to stress this, it is now.

Were I still teaching, and the lesson was about the use of comparison and contrast, I would use Canada and the United States as models. For the purpose of today's post, one basis of contrast will suffice.

Canada, although we have had many stumbles, has traditionally been open to 'the other.' People come here from all over the world, attracted to our traditions of peace, order and good government. Consequently, our multiculturalism is one of the shining jewels of our identity. And while we are perhaps less open than we used to be, we still exceed what many other nations have fallen prey to: xenophobia and exclusion.

Those two ugly qualities are on full display in the United State as it quickly descends into an authoritarianism that would have seemed inconceivable just a few years ago. Attacks on judges, rule by fiat (a.k.a., executive order), interference in states' rights and academic freedom are rampant under Trump. One sees that the traditional safeguard against such excesses, the separation of powers, is being rapidly dismantled, aided immensely by a craven, submissive legislative branch.

Consider the latest salvo, as the U.S. continues to close itself off from the rest of the world.

US President Donald Trump's administration has ordered US embassies around the world to stop scheduling appointments for student visas as it prepares to expand social media vetting of such applicants. 

An official memo said social media vetting would be stepped up for student and foreign exchange visas, which would have "significant implications" for embassies and consulates.

 Foreign students who want to study in the US are usually required to schedule interviews at a US embassy in their home country before approval.

State department spokesperson Tammy Bruce told reporters on Tuesday: "We take very seriously the process of vetting who it is that comes into the country, and we're going to continue to do that."

This move is likely retaliation for Harvard's refusal to surrender its academic freedom to the Trump regime, a retaliation that includes the freezing of grants.

Harvard University has been the focal point of the president's ire; he has frozen $2.65bn (£1.96bn) in federal grants to the institution and has sought to put other federal funding worth $100m under review.

The university's president has said the cuts will "hurt" the country, not just Harvard, because academics were conducting research deemed "high-priority" by the government. 

The implications of these actions are great, and telegraph a message that the U.S. is no longer a welcoming, inquisitive nation but rather one that is collapsing in on itself. 

Let that be a lesson to every Canadian lest we succumb to the temptation of complacence. We have something here that needs to be constantly nourished, and I am cautiously optimistic, after Carney's initial symbolic act of asking the King to read the Throne speech, that we are on the right track.

 

On Moral Injury

A moral injury is a severe stress reaction following the experience of an event or a recurrence of situations that contradict an individual’s moral beliefs. Moral injury is characterized by enduring feelings of guilt, shame, disgust, anger, contempt, and hopelessness. In severe cases, this may lead to suicidal thoughts and suicide attempts. Moral injury appears to impact one’s capacity for trust and elevate despair.

I have been thinking a great deal lately about the genocide going on in Gaza. Almost daily, we are presented with images of starvation, mutilation and death. Especially difficult to watch are the images of innocent children being made to pay a price no one should have to pay for the madness of others. It is often too much even for a stalwart soul like me.

Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett writes feelingly on this topic, wondering about its effect on the human soul.

I have seen images on my phone screen these past months that will haunt me as long as I live. Dead, injured, starving children and babies. Children crying in pain and in fear for their mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers. A small boy shaking in terror from the trauma of an airstrike. Scenes of unspeakable horror and violence that have left me feeling sick.

As we watch, horrified, we feel a pervasive helplessness and hopelessness; any action we might take, whether it be letter-writing, protests, donations to relief groups, seems to have at best a miniscule effect on the carnage, and little balm for the soul.

This overarching sense of impotence when confronted with unimaginable horror is creating a mass sense of moral injury – a form of profound psychological distress that can happen to people when they are forced to act, or indeed not act, in ways that are in direct opposition to their values or moral code.  

But that feeling of powerlessness and, as an extension, complicity: what does it do to those around the world who feel what is happening is wrong? What is the impact of witnessing so much profound suffering – even through a screen – and feeling unable to act or to force others to act?

We in the West live cosseted lives; no matter how bad one's personal situation may be, it is nothing compared to what the people of Gaza experience daily. Our own sense of guilt and shame here is especially acute if we have children or grandchildren. As a grandparent, I know all to well the ardent hope I harbour for a good and fulfilling life for my grandchildren, but the knowledge that I would do anything to protect them hardly assuages what the writer calls moral injury.

There is something about being in the daily company of a little person – their innocence, their vulnerability, their silliness, their loving nature – that makes the pain of any other child feel like a profound affront. But I know you don’t have to be a parent to feel horror at what is being inflicted on Gaza’s children in the most visceral way. I believe – or at least I used to – that it is ingrained in us, as humans, to feel a collective responsibility towards children, and that this collective responsibility can extend beyond borders.

 Feeling powerless in the face of such egregious injustice can result in a loss of trust or faith, not just in governments and institutions but also in the moral order of the world, and its ability to protect children. I wonder what the impact of this will be: will it, as certain politicians no doubt hope, result in a numbness that presents as indifference? Traumatic events can result in a lack of affect – millions more people should be marching and raising their voice – but they can also be channelled into righteous anger.

I certainly feel a profound loss of faith. Something I felt to be true about humanity – that people are fundamentally good, that we owe it to children to protect them – has shifted because of this conflict. I walk around with a feeling of heaviness that I cannot seem to shake. Thousands of miles from Gaza, I am changed by the past 18 months. I have learned that, for some people, compassion for children has political limits. What does one do with that terrible knowledge once it sits inside you like a leaden stone? I don’t seem be able to find an answer. 

We have all borne witness to the darkness our species is capable of.  And none of us emerges unscathed after tasting of that bitter fruit.