Canada’s commitment to peace is inconsistent
Ukraine has rightfully benefited from Canada’s full arsenal of support, while Palestine has received limited aid qualified by controversy and bureaucratic delay.
In October 2023, the University of Toronto (UofT) Mississauga Students’ Union released a statement supporting “all people facing harm from the Palestinian genocide.” UofT officials subsequently condemned the union’s statement, ironically citing compassion and kindness as just cause. To many, this was a clear act of censorship and served as a warning that speaking out against the injustice in Palestine would be met with forfeit of their right to freedom of expression.
The dispute mirrored a larger reality of Canada’s political landscape: a staggering complacency despite what Canada has shown itself capable of in times of need.
When Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, the immediate mobilization of our governing officials established our solidarity and affirmed our country as a global leader in humanitarian support. But we have yet to see commensurate action from the Canadian government in response to the Palestinian genocide.
The difference begins with recognition
For Ukraine, Canadian institutions and government leaders acted quickly and visibly. Former Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s administration framed itself as a staunch ally from the earliest days of the Russian invasion in 2022.
The University of Toronto, in parallel, established scholarships and financial aid programs that same year for displaced Ukrainian students, a gesture reinforced by a university-wide consensus of solidarity.
On Palestine, however, Trudeau treaded carefully. Aligning with other Western allies by the end of 2023, Trudeau classified Hamas as a terrorist organization and asserted that Israel had a right to defend itself. Simultaneously, he called for the protection of civilian lives and for Israel to allow humanitarian aid into Gaza.
It wasn’t until May 2025 that the UofT Faculty Association voted in favour of divestment from Israeli institutions and companies tied to the genocide effort, preceding Canada’s formal recognition of a Palestinian state this past September.
Despite similar directions, Canada severely underperformed in its promptness in recognizing Palestine’s right to self-determination after so readily demonstrating its capacity to rally to Ukraine’s aid. While Ukraine saw large-scale, unified mobility and government investment, Palestine faced policies constrained by bureaucracy and political wariness.
Canada has committed C$6.5 billion in military assistance to Ukraine through 2029, including weapons, vehicles, training programs, and advanced defence technology. Through Operation UNIFIER, the Canadian Armed Forces (CAF) have trained Ukrainian soldiers in both military and medical practices. The CAF also deployed personnel to support refugees in reception centres in Warsaw.
In February 2025, Canada began to redirect revenues from frozen Russian assets into relief funds for Ukraine. Further, the Canada-Ukraine Authorization for Emergency Travel (CUAET) afforded Ukrainian refugees a fast-tracked pathway to immigration, bolstered by settlement and transition services to support integration.
In contrast, Canada has pledged $104.5 million in humanitarian assistance since November 2024, with total contributions reaching $355 million by July 2025. Israel’s blockage of land routes into Gaza caused Canada to participate in air-dropping food and medical supplies. While lifesaving, these drops were a demonstration of Canada’s limited influence in shaping conditions on the ground.
On immigration, the government introduced temporary measures allowing Palestinians already in Canada to stay, and created pathways for Canadian citizens to reunite with relatives trapped in Gaza. But unlike the CUAET, these processes have been criticized for their lag and inadequacy. Reports surfaced of families waiting months for approval, with many applicants dying before their cases were processed.
At stake is Canada’s self-image. The nation casts itself as a defender of human rights and democracy. But when two crises unfold simultaneously, its record of valour is inconsistent. Ukrainians have rightfully benefited from Canada’s full arsenal of support: military aid, expedited immigration, and unequivocal recognition. Palestinians, by contrast, have received humanitarian packages and belated recognition, qualified by domestic controversy and bureaucratic delay.
How do we come to honour a country for its values when it has demonstrated that they are selective? As a people, our pride is caught between Canada’s vastly different responses to the war in Ukraine and the genocide of the Palestinian people. Omar El Akkad’s 2025 book so expertly exposes this “double-think” of this Western self-narrative.
In El Akkad’s words: “Rule, conventions, morals, reality itself: all exist so long as their existence is convenient to the preservation of power. Otherwise, they, like all else, are expendable.”
