On September 26, Member of Parliament Leah Gazan introduced Bill C-413 — a proposed law aimed at banning residential school denialism, including efforts to deny or downplay the harms caused by Canada’s residential schools on Indigenous communities. However, some argue that criminalizing differing perspectives “makes it even more difficult to correct bad ideas and lingering injustices.” 

If convicted for “willful promotion of hatred,” a person is subject to imprisonment not exceeding two years or a fine not exceeding $5,000. Notably, a person cannot be convicted under this law if they establish that their statements were true, expressed in good faith or on a belief in a religious text, relevant for the public interest or believed on reasonable grounds to be true, and intended to remove feelings of hatred toward Indigenous peoples.

The Varsity asked two writers to reflect on the bill’s potential effects on Indigenous peoples and our rights under the Canadian government.

Dismantling denial or restricting discourse? 

I believe Bill C-413 is too rooted in idealism and fails to consider the possible implications. Though the government may want to quell residential school denialism, this bill could be more detrimental to already marginalized groups.

A law that is unrestrictive in interpretation and vague in its wording can inadvertently reinforce oppressive power structures and create fertile ground for misuse. Coming from Hong Kong, I’ve witnessed how its government used the 2020 National Security Law to criminalize various perspectives. Citizens with dissenting views against the government were convicted of what the government labelled as “secession, subversion, terrorism, and collusion with foreign forces.” Now, I continue to be skeptical of broad and vague laws that influence one’s freedom of speech.

Connecting back to Bill C-413, imagine if someone who comes from a background with little formal education says something about residential schools that may be factually inaccurate or downplays those atrocities. This person could be tried under the proposed legislation, while potentially being unable to afford legal representation. They could then be convicted and forced to serve time in the carceral system, which will have detrimental impacts on their family, community, mental health, and job prospects

If this bill is passed, I believe people who have faced systemic barriers, such as poverty or lack of access to education, are most at risk. Laws often have less impact on the wealthier, more educated segments of society, as they more often have access to legal aid and can potentially find ways to avoid the legal consequences of their actions.

An important point to consider is that the criminal justice system has historically disproportionately incarcerated poor and racialized individuals, particularly Indigenous and Black people. This raises the question: can this policy truly be considered reconciliatory if it relies on a system that is inherently biased against disadvantaged communities? 

As writer Audre Lorde argued in a 1984 essay about Black resistance against white supremacy, “the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.” I believe that attempting to achieve justice through the same punitive tools — namely, Canada’s legal system — that has historically marginalized Indigenous and other vulnerable communities is fundamentally contradictory. Such an approach would stifle a culture of free speech and learning.

A truly reconciliatory policy should aim to foster a culture of community-based learning. Take the Indigenous practice of restorative justice circles, a peacemaking practice where offenders, victims, family, community members, and justice system representatives engage in dialogue. 

Reconciliation should not rely on the legal system, which has historically been used as an instrument of oppression. 

Natalie Lau is a second-year student at Victoria College studying criminology and socio-legal studies and history. She is a member of the UTSU senate and a marketing director at U of T Volunteers Connect.

A duty to listen and act

I will never forget the day in May 2021 when the remains of 215 children were found on the grounds of the Kamloops Indian Residential School. 215 children — each of them had a life, a story. 

I believe that any attempt to intentionally deny this history is not only dangerous but also constitutes hate speech. Along with other efforts to promote increased awareness about residential schools, I feel residential school denialism should be outlawed in Canada.

Residential schools were funded by the federal government with the intent of assimilating Indigenous children, facilitating what the Truth and Reconciliation Commission has now deemed a cultural genocide. Over 150,000 Indigenous children attended these schools and were forcibly taken from their families. An estimated 6,000 children died, with some schools having a mortality rate as high as 60 per cent. Thousands more were victims of physical and sexual abuse. 

Special Interlocutor Kimberly Murray’s report from October on the unmarked graves of Indigenous children in Canada states that for many survivors and their descendants, the process of recovery often involves revisiting trauma — particularly when confronted by denialists who negate this dark chapter in Canadian history. Survivors and their descendants deserve better than being forced to listen to denialists who spew rhetoric that minimizes and erases their lived experience, without consequence. 

Canadian public opinion analyst Research Co.’s poll from October also shows that 57 per cent of Canadians would either “definitely” or “probably” support criminalizing residential school denialism. 

Some critics believe that criminalizing residential school denialism represents a “clear disdain for free speech,” and I can understand those who worry about the slippery slope of limiting speech. However, I encourage people to view efforts to combat residential school denialism and other forms of hate speech as guardrails for free speech. I think it will limit discrimination and misinformation while promoting dialogue and bridge-building conversations — all of which are key for any democratic society. 

We should also recognize that residential school denialism does not exist in a vacuum, and that alongside these efforts, we must continue to advocate for increased educational opportunities about residential schools, as outlined in numerous calls to action in the 2015 Truth and Reconciliation report

With the last residential school closing in 1996, an estimated 80,000 survivors remain. When residential school survivors like Douglas George-Kanentiio go to Parliament Hill to say that Canadians must “come to grips” with the realities of the residential school system, I believe we all have a duty to listen — and more importantly, to act.

Ahmed Hawamdeh is a third-year student at Trinity College studying public policy, political science, and French. He is the Domestic Affairs Columnist for The Varsity’s Opinion section.

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