Decolonizing history and social studies curricula has a long way to go in Canada

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Sara Karn, Postdoctoral Fellow, Department of History, McMaster University

In June 2015, 10 years ago, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada (TRC) called for curriculum on Indigenous histories and contemporary contributions to Canada to foster intercultural understanding, empathy and respect. This was the focus of calls to action Nos. 62 to 65.

As education scholars, we are part of a project supported by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council called Thinking Historically for Canada’s Future. This project involves researchers, educators and partner organizations from across Canada, including Indigenous and non-Indigenous team members.

As part of this work, we examined Canadian history and social studies curricula in elementary, middle and secondary schools with the aim of understanding how they address — and may better address in future — the need for decolonization.

We found that although steps have been made towards decolonizing history curricula in Canada, there is still a long way to go. These curricula must do far more to challenge dominant narratives, prompt students to critically reflect on their identities and value Indigenous world views.




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Reimagining curriculum

As white settler scholars and educators, we acknowledge our responsibility to unlearn colonial ways of being and learn how to further decolonization in Canada.

In approaching this study, we began by listening to Indigenous scholars, such as Cree scholar Dwayne Donald. Donald and other scholars call for reimagining curriculum through unlearning colonialism and renewing relationships.




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The late Arapaho education scholar Michael Marker suggested that in history education, renewing relations involves learning from Indigenous understandings of the past, situated within local meanings of time and place.

History, social studies curricula

Curricula across Canada have been updated in the last 10 years to include teaching about treaties, Indian Residential Schools and the cultures, perspectives and experiences of Indigenous Peoples over time.

Thanks primarily to the work of Indigenous scholars and educators, including Donald, Marker, Mi’kmaw educator Marie Battiste, Anishinaabe scholar Nicole Bell and others, some public school educators are attentive to land-based learning and the importance of oral history.

But these teachings are, for the most part, ad hoc and not supported by provincial curriculum mandates.

Our study revealed that most provincial history curricula are still focused on colonial narratives that centre settler histories and emphasize “progress” over time. Curricula are largely inattentive to critical understandings of white settler power and to Indigenous ways of knowing and being.

Notably, we do not include the three territories in this statement. Most of the territorial history curricula have been co-created with local Indigenous communities, and stand out with regard to decolonization.

For example, in Nunavut’s Grade 5 curriculum, the importance of local knowledge tied to the land is highlighted throughout. There are learning expectations related to survival skills and ecological knowledge.

Members of our broader research team are dedicated to analyzing curricula in Nunavut, the Northwest Territories and the Yukon. Their work may offer approaches to be adapted for other educational contexts.

Dominant narratives

In contrast, we found that provincial curricula often reinforce dominant historical narratives, especially surrounding colonialism. Some documents use the term “the history,” implying a singular history of Canada (for example, Manitoba’s Grade 6 curriculum).

Historical content, examples and guiding questions are predominantly written from a Euro-western perspective, while minimizing racialized identities and community histories. In particular, curricula often ignore illustrations of Indigenous agency and experience.




Read more:
Moving beyond Black history month towards inclusive histories in Québec secondary schools


Most curricula primarily situate Indigenous Peoples in the past, without substantial consideration for present-day implications of settler colonialism, as well as Indigenous agency and experiences today.

For example, in British Columbia’s Grade 4 curriculum, there are lengthy discussions of the harms of colonization in the past. Yet, there is no mention of the ongoing impacts of settler colonialism or the need to engage in decolonization today.

To disrupt these dominant narratives, we recommend that history curricula should critically discuss the ongoing impacts of settler colonialism, while centring stories of Indigenous resistance and survival over time.

Identity and privilege

There are also missed opportunities within history curricula when it comes to critical discussions around identity, including systemic marginalization or privilege.

Who we are informs how we understand history, but curricula largely does not prompt student reflection in these ways, including around treaty relationships.

In Saskatchewan’s Grade 5 curriculum, students are expected to explain what treaties are and “affirm that all Saskatchewan residents are Treaty people.”

However, there is no mention of students considering how their own backgrounds, identities, values and experiences shape their understandings of and responsibilities for treaties. Yet these discussions are essential for engaging students in considering the legacies of colonialism and how they may act to redress those legacies.

A key learning outcome could involve students becoming more aware of how their own personal and community histories inform their historical understandings and reconciliation commitments.

Indigenous ways of knowing and being

History curricula generally ignore Indigenous ways of knowing and being. Most curricula are inattentive to Indigenous oral traditions, conceptions of time, local contexts and relationships with other species and the environment.

Instead, these documents reflect Euro-western, settler colonial worldviews and educational values. For example, history curricula overwhelmingly ignore local meanings of time and place, while failing to encourage opportunities for land-based and experiential learning.

In Prince Edward Island’s Grade 12 curriculum, the documents expect that students will “demonstrate an understanding of the interactions among people, places and the environment.” While this may seem promising, environmental histories in this curriculum and others uphold capitalist world views by focusing on resource extraction and economic progress.

To disrupt settler colonial relationships with the land and empower youth as environmental stewards, we support reframing history curricula in ways that are attentive to Indigenous ways of knowing the past and relations with other people, beings and the land.

Ways forward

Schools have been, and continue to be, harmful spaces for many Indigenous communities, and various aspects of our schooling beg questions about how well-served both Indigenous and non-Indigenous students are for meeting current and future challenges.

If, as a society, we accept the premise that the transformation of current curricular expectations is possible for schools, then more substantive engagement is required in working toward decolonization.

Decolonizing curricula is a long-term, challenging process that requires consideration of many things: who sits on curriculum writing teams; the resources allocated to supporting curricular reform; broader school or board-wide policies; and ways of teaching that support reconciliation.

We encourage history curriculum writing teams to take up these recommendations as part of a broader commitment to reconciliation.

While not exhaustive, recommendations for curricular reform are a critical step in the future redesign of history curricula. The goal is a history education committed to listening and learning from Indigenous communities to build more inclusive national stories of the past, and into the future.

This is a corrected version of a story originally published June 17, 2025. The earlier story said Michael Marker was from the Lummi Nation instead of saying he was an Arapaho scholar.

The Conversation

Sara Karn receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC).

Kristina R. Llewellyn receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC).

Penney Clark receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada (SSHRC).

ref. Decolonizing history and social studies curricula has a long way to go in Canada – https://theconversation.com/decolonizing-history-and-social-studies-curricula-has-a-long-way-to-go-in-canada-253679

The 28 Days Later franchise redefined zombie films. But the undead have an old, rich and varied history

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Christopher White, Historian, The University of Queensland

The history of the dead – or, more precisely, the history of the living’s fascination with the dead – is an intriguing one.

As a researcher of the supernatural, I’m often pulled aside at conferences or at the school gate, and told in furtive whispers about people’s encounters with the dead.

The dead haunt our imagination in a number of different forms, whether as “cold spots”, or the walking dead popularised in zombie franchises such as 28 Days Later.

The franchise’s latest release, 28 Years Later, brings back the Hollywood zombie in all its glory – but these archetypal creatures have a much wider and varied history.

Zombis, revenants and the returning dead

A zombie is typically a reanimated corpse: a category of the returning dead. Scholars refer to them as “revenants”, and continue to argue over their exact characteristics.

In the Haitian Vodou religion, the zombi is not the same as the Hollywood zombie. Instead, zombi are people who, as a religious punishment, are drugged, buried alive, then dug out and forced into slavery.

The Hollywood zombie, however, draws more from medieval European stories about the returning dead than from Vodou.

A perfect setting for a ‘zombie’ film

In 28 Years Later, the latest entry in Danny Boyle’s blockbuster horror franchise, the monsters technically aren’t zombies because they aren’t dead. Instead, they are infected by a “rage virus”, accidentally released by a group of animal rights activists in the beginning of the first film.

This third film focuses on events almost three decades after the first film. The British Isles is quarantined, and the young protagonist Spike (Alfie Williams) and his family live in a village on Lindisfarne Island. This island, one of the most important sites in early medieval British Christianity, is isolated and protected by a tidal causeway that links it to the mainland.

Two actors with crossbows are running outdoors in a scene from a zombie film, with some blurry figures in the back.
Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Alfie Williams star in the new film, out in Australian cinemas today.
Sony Pictures

The film leans heavily on how we imagine the medieval world, with scenes showing silhouetted fletchers at work making arrows, children training with bows, towering ossuaries and various memento mori. There’s also footage from earlier depictions of medieval warfare. And at one point, the characters seek sanctuary in the ruins of Fountains Abbey, in Yorkshire, which was built in 1132.

The medieval locations and imagery of 28 Years Later evoke the long history of revenants, and the returned dead who once roved medieval England.

Early accounts of the medieval dead

In the medieval world, or at least the parts that wrote in Latin, the returning dead were usually called spiritus (“spirit”), but they weren’t limited to the non-corporeal like today’s ghosts are.

Medieval Latin Christians from as early as the 3rd century saw the dead as part of a parallel society that mirrored the world of the living, where each group relied on the other to aid them through the afterlife.

Depiction of the undead from a medieval manuscript.
British Library, Yates Thompson MS 13

While some medieval ghosts would warn the living about what awaited sinners in the afterlife, or lead their relatives to treasure, or prophesise the future, some also returned to terrorise the living.

And like the “zombies” affected by the rage virus in 28 Years Later, these revenants could go into a frenzy in the presence of the living.

Thietmar, the Prince-Bishop of Merseburg, Germany, wrote the Chronicon Thietmari (Thietmar’s Chronicle) between 1012 and 1018, and included a number of ghost stories that featured revenants.

Although not all of them framed the dead as terrifying, they certainly didn’t paint them as friendly, either. In one story, a congregation of the dead at a church set the priest upon the altar, before burning him to ashes – intended to be read as a mirror of pagan sacrifice.

These dead were physical beings, capable of seizing a man and sacrificing him in his own church.

A threat to be dealt with

The English monastic historian William of Newburgh (1136–98) wrote revenants were so common in his day that recording them all would be exhausting. According to him, the returned dead were frequently seen in 12th century England.

So, instead of providing a exhausting list, he offered some choice examples which, like most medieval ghost stories, had a good Christian moral attached to them.

William’s revenants mostly killed the people of the towns they lived, returning to the grave between their escapades. But the medieval English had a method for dealing with these monsters; they dug them up, tore out the heart and then burned the body.

Other revenants were dealt with less harshly, William explained. In one case, all it took was the Bishop of Lincoln writing a letter of absolution to stop a dead man returning to his widow’s bed.

These medieval dead were also thought to spread disease – much like those infected with the rage virus – and were capable of physically killing someone.

Depiction of the undead from a medieval manuscript.
British Library, Arundel MS 83.

The undead, further north

In medieval Scandinavia and Iceland, the undead draugr were extremely strong, hideous to look at and stunk of decomposition. Some were immune to human weapons and often killed animals near their tombs before building up to kill humans. Like their English counterparts, they also spread disease.

But according to the Eyrbyggja saga, an anonymous 13th or 14th century text written in Iceland, all it took was a type of community court and the threat of legal action to drive off these returned dead.

It’s a method the survivors in 28 Years Later didn’t try.

The dead live on

The first-hand zombie stories that were common during the medieval period started to dwindle in the 16th century with the Protestant Reformation, which focused more on individuals’ behaviours and salvation.

Nonetheless, their influence can still be felt in Catholic ritual practices today, such as in prayers offered for the dead, and the lighting of votive candles.

We still tell ghost stories, and we still worry about things that go bump in the night. And of course, we continue to explore the undead in all its forms on the big screen.

The Conversation

Christopher White does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. The 28 Days Later franchise redefined zombie films. But the undead have an old, rich and varied history – https://theconversation.com/the-28-days-later-franchise-redefined-zombie-films-but-the-undead-have-an-old-rich-and-varied-history-247900

Plastics threaten ecosystems and human health, but evidence-based solutions are under political fire

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Tony Robert Walker, Professor, School for Resource and Environmental Studies, Dalhousie University

Negotiations toward a global, legally binding plastics treaty are set to resume this summer, with the United Nations Environment Programme announcing that the Intergovernmental Negotiating Committee on plastic pollution will reconvene in August.

The committee was established to develop an international legally binding instrument — known as the plastics treaty — to end plastic pollution, one of the fastest-growing environmental threats.




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Here’s how the new global treaty on plastic pollution can help solve this crisis


Globally, 40 per cent of plastics production goes into the production of single-use plastic packaging, which is the single largest source of plastic waste and is a threat to wildlife and human health. Without meaningful action, global plastic waste is projected to nearly triple by 2060, reaching an estimated 1.2 billion tonnes.

As the world prepares for another round of talks, Canada’s own plastic problem reveals what’s at stake, and what’s possible for the future.

Canada’s plastic problem

Canada is no exception to the global plastic crisis. Nearly half (47 per cent) of all plastic waste in Canada comes from the food and drink sector, contributing 3,268 million tonnes annually. Canadians use 15 billion plastic bags annually and nearly 57 million straws daily, yet only nine per cent of plastics are recycled — a figure that is not expected to improve.

Most of Canada’s plastic — except for plastic bottles made of PET (polyethylene terephthalate) — are uneconomical or difficult to recycle because of the complexity of mixed plastics used in our economy. As a result, 2.8 million tonnes of plastic waste — equivalent to the weight of 24 CN Towers — end up in landfills every year.

This is not a trivial problem, as Ontario is projected to run out of landfill space by 2035. Plastic pollution poses growing risks to both urban and rural infrastructure.

In addition to landfill overflow, around one per cent of Canada’s plastic waste leaks into the environment. In 2016, this was 29,000 tonnes of plastic pollution. Once in the environment, plastics disintegrate into tiny particles, called microplastics (small pieces of plastic less than five millimetres long).

We drink those tiny microplastic particles in our tap water, and eat them in our fish dinners. Some are even making their way into farmland.

Plastics are everywhere, including inside us

More than 93 per cent of Canadians have expressed concerns over single-use plastics used in food packaging and have supported government bans. There is a good reason for concern over the mounting levels of plastics in the environment, in our food and in us.

Growing evidence indicates that plastics can cause harmful health effects in humans and animals. Microplastics and smaller nanoplastics (less than one micron in length) have been found in humans, including infants and breast milk. They can cause metabolic disorders, interfere with our immune and reproductive systems and cause behavioural problems.

These health problems may be caused by chemicals added to plastics, including single-use plastics, of which 4,200 chemicals have been identified as posing a hazard to human and ecosystem health.

It is for these reasons that the Canadian government introduced a ban on single-use plastics in 2022 as part of a plan to reach zero plastic waste in Canada by 2030.

The decision was based extensive public and industry consultation, as well as decades of data on plastic pollution gathered from the Great Canadian Shoreline Cleanup. This data shows the most common plastic litter items found in the environment across Canada, known as the “dirty dozen” list.

Six of these items were included in the federal ban. Three eastern Canadian provinces had already implemented single-use plastic bag bans before the federal government, with little to no public or industry opposition. Prince Edward Island was the first Canadian province to implement a province-wide plastic bag ban in July 2019, closely followed by Newfoundland and Labrador and Nova Scotia in October 2020.

The politics of plastic

Despite overwhelming scientific consensus, debates around plastic pollution are becoming increasingly politicized.

In February in the United States, President Donald Trump signed an executive order directing the U.S. government to “stop purchasing paper straws and ensure they are no longer provided within federal buildings.”

Trump told reporters at the White House: “I don’t think plastic is going to affect a shark very much, as they’re munching their way through the ocean.” Almost 2,000 peer-reviewed studies have reported, however, that more than 4,000 species have ingested or been entangled by plastic litter.

In Canada, plastic has also become a political flashpoint. During the recent federal election, Conservative Leader Pierre Poilievre said he would scrap the federal government’s ban on single-use plastics and bring back plastic straws and grocery bags. He argued the government’s ban was about “symbolism” rather than “science,” saying, “the Liberals’ plastics ban is not about the environment, it’s about cost and control.”

His promise would have harmed Canadians by dismissing the overwhelming scientific evidence showing that plastics in our bodies are linked to health impacts. Legislation to ban single-use plastics can be highly effective, ranging from 33 to 96 per cent reductions in plastic waste and pollution in the environment, depending on the policy and jurisdiction.

Canada’s single-use plastics ban is a great example of evidence-based policymaking. The latest data from the conservation group Ocean Wise shows there was a 32 per cent drop in plastic straws found on Canadian shorelines in 2024 compared to the previous year.

Science-based policies are needed

It is indisputable that growing plastic production is directly related to plastic pollution in the environment and in human beings. Increasing plastic pollution is a global threat to human and ecosystem health, regardless of borders and political affiliation.

As negotiators gear up for another round of talks to finalize a Global Plastics Treaty to end plastic pollution, the need for policies that are supported by scientific evidence is more urgent than ever.

Future generations deserve a healthy and sustainable planet. The path towards a healthy and sustainable planet requires supporting action based on scientific evidence, not misinforming people with catchy phrases and political rhetoric.

The Conversation

Tony Robert Walker receives funding from the Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada, Canada Foundation for Innovation, and Research Nova Scotia. He is also a non-remunerated member of the Scientists’ Coalition for an Effective Plastics Treaty.

Miriam L Diamond receives funding from Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council, Ontario Ministry of Environment, Conservation and Parks, Future Earth, and Environment and Climate Change Canada. She is affiliated with the University of Toronto, serves as a paid expert for the Scientific and Technical Advisory Panel of the Global Environment Facility, and has non-remunerated positions with the International Panel on Chemical Pollution (Vice-Chair), is a member of the Scientist Coalition for an Effective Plastics Treaty, and sits on the board of the Canadian Environmental Law Association.

ref. Plastics threaten ecosystems and human health, but evidence-based solutions are under political fire – https://theconversation.com/plastics-threaten-ecosystems-and-human-health-but-evidence-based-solutions-are-under-political-fire-256764

Is Sabrina Carpenter’s Man’s Best Friend album cover satire or self-degradation? A psychology expert explores our reactions

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Katrina Muller-Townsend, Lecturer in Psychology, Edith Cowan University

Island Records

Sabrina Carpenter’s Man’s Best Friend album cover has fans divided.

Carpenter poses on all fours, her glossy blond hair grasped by a male figure cropped from the frame. Her wide-eyed expression intensifies an ambiguous performance of subservience, tapping into a visual language tied to female objectification, from classic pin-up imagery to contemporary pop culture.

The emotionally loaded image plays on her hyper-feminine, tongue-in-cheek pop star persona, forcing us to question where irony ends and objectification begins.

Is it satire, or self-degradation?

Up for debate

At first glance, the cover seems like just another stylised, provocative pop image. It delivers what we’ve come to expect: a bold, ironic twist on the exaggerated Juno-style pose she reinvents on stage.

To some fans, it’s clever satire: a pop star reclaiming and amplifying her image to mock industry norms. Satire uses exaggeration, irony, or humour to critique power structures – and Carpenter’s pose walks that tightrope.

To others it crosses a line, reinforcing regressive attitudes about women’s sexuality and drawing criticism from domestic violence advocates.

The debate reflects our unresolved discomfort about gender, power and control. There is a tension between Carpenter’s ironic persona and the submissive pose, creating uncertainty for the viewer.

We can use psychology to better understand this dichotomy.

The schema violation

This mismatch between expectation and perception is a schema violation.

A schema is a mental shortcut: a template built from experience and unspoken rules that helps us make sense of the world and predict what to expect. When something breaks that pattern, it’s called a schema violation.

Carpenter’s brand is cheeky, self-aware irony – so when she adopts a pose steeped in submission and hyper-femininity as in this album image, it feels off.

That can trigger cognitive dissonance: the mental tension we feel when two ideas (here, empowerment and obedience) don’t align.

To resolve the conflict, some fans reinterpret the image as feminist sarcasm. Others reject it, fearing it panders to outdated, dangerous norms.

Both reactions reflect our emotional and ideological investments in who Carpenter is or should be.

Exploring confirmation bias

Part of this conflicted reaction is driven by confirmation bias: our tendency to filter information to support what we already believe.

Fans who see Carpenter as witty and empowered interpret the image as intentionally ironic. Others – more sceptical of the industry’s history of exploiting female sexuality – view it as a throwback to damaging norms.

Either way, our interpretations often reflect more about ourselves than about Carpenter’s intent.

When her image contradicts both her public persona and our social values, it creates a gap between what we think is right and what we want to be right. So, we try to explain it away, by either defending the image or criticising it.

Satire and scandal

Carpenter’s cover follows a long tradition of female artists whose work straddles satire and scandal, complicating public reception.

Madonna’s Like a Prayer drew outrage for mixing religion with sexual imagery. Yet it positioned her as a provocateur – a woman resisting the lack of agency that so often defines sexualised media.

Miley Cyrus’ Bangerz era shocked fans with a bold shift from Hannah Montana innocence to hypersexualised rebellion, challenging the narrow roles women in pop culture are confined to.

Doja Cat’s shift from glam pop princess to glitch villainess unsettled audiences. Was it satire, rebellion, or just chaos?

These women, like Carpenter, force us to confront our own discomfort with women who won’t stay in one lane.

Performer and provocateur

Audience reaction is also shaped by emotional investment in Carpenter’s persona. Through carefully curated social media, interviews and lyrics, fans build intimate narratives forming parasocial relationships – one-sided emotional bonds with celebrities.

When an image contradicts that imagined persona, it can feel jarring, even like betrayal.

Audiences often expect idols to be empowering but not polarising, sexy but safe, to challenge norms – but only in ways that affirm our own values.

Carpenter’s image breaks that implicit contract, which creates discomfort for some viewers.

Carpenter’s cover raises uncomfortable but necessary questions about how much freedom female artists have to be both critical and complicit. Can they play with society and play along, to be both performer and provocateur?

This highlights the double bind many women face in media and popular culture. Female artists are expected to both subvert and satisfy; to entertain without offending; empower without alienating. The burden to be palatable and provocative is one male artists rarely face.

It’s what we make of it

Is Carpenter undermining herself or subverting the system? Perhaps both. Or perhaps the image isn’t the message: our reaction is.

The image forces us to confront not only our perception of Sabrina Carpenter but also our cultural discomfort with women who defy neat categorisation. Satire demands interpretation, especially when it comes from women addressing sex or power.

More than provocation, Carpenter’s cover mirrors our cultural struggle to accept women who defy simple labels of satire or submission. The image can reflect broader social ideals and tensions projected onto public figures.

What we see says more about our assumptions than her intent. Understanding those reactions doesn’t kill the fun – it deepens it.

The Conversation

Katrina Muller-Townsend does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Is Sabrina Carpenter’s Man’s Best Friend album cover satire or self-degradation? A psychology expert explores our reactions – https://theconversation.com/is-sabrina-carpenters-mans-best-friend-album-cover-satire-or-self-degradation-a-psychology-expert-explores-our-reactions-259043

Air India crash in Ahmedabad sends reverberations to Canadian families of Air India Flight 182

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Chandrima Chakraborty, Professor, English and Cultural Studies; Director, Centre for Global Peace, Justice and Health, McMaster University

The June 12 Air India crash in Ahmedabad, Gujarat, India, with 230 passengers and 12 crew members aboard is sending deep reverberations through a group of Canadians who know all too well the shock, grief and horror of losing loved ones in hauntingly similar circumstances.

They are the families of those killed in the bombing of Air India Flight 182 en route from Canada to India 40 years ago this month.

I work closely with these families as a researcher and advocate. I began interviewing these families in 2014 and have witnessed firsthand their pain, advocacy and emotional turmoil of living in the shadow of a historical event.

As reports of the Ahmedabad crash came in, the WhatsApp account of the Air India Flight 182 families immediately flooded with expressions of shock, concern, sympathy and memories triggered by the latest incident.

On June 23, 1985, Flight 182 was brought down by terrorist bombs created and planted on Canadian soil. The devastating mid-air explosion occurred over the Atlantic Ocean near Ireland. It killed all 329 passengers and crew, including 268 Canadians. The crew and most of the passengers were of Indian origin.

Investigations into the causes of the crash of Air India Flight 171, en route to London’s Gatwick airport, shortly after take-off are still underway. At least 279 people died in the crash, which also impacted people on the ground.

Acknowledging losses as significant

A recent public conference at McMaster University commemorated the 40th anniversary of Flight 182, bringing together Indian and Canadian families, researchers, creative artists and community members.

a red cover with a woman in black dancing
Book cover for ‘Remembering Air India The Art of Public Mourning,’ edited by Chandrima Chakraborty, Amber Dean and Angela Failler.
University of Alberta Press

The conference dealt with critical themes, including the challenge of Flight 182 families recovering from their losses within a climate of broad indifference among their fellow Canadians.

Regardless of what may have caused the more recent crash in western India, these Canadian families know the shock and loss that a new set of victims’ families are facing, and how important it is to support them.

Hopefully, the home countries of last week’s crash victims — most of them Indian and British citizens, with at least one Canadian reported to have been aboard — will regard their deaths as significant losses. If so, this would be unlike what the 1985 victims’ families experienced in Canada.

A little-mourned Canadian tragedy

In Canada, we have a national day to remember on June 23, 1985. The bombing has been called a Canadian tragedy in a public inquiry report.

Yet according to a 2023 Angus Reid poll, “nine out of 10 Canadians say they have little or no knowledge of the worst single instance of the mass killing of their fellow citizens.” That essentially means the bombing has yet to penetrate the consciousness of everyday Canadians or evoke shared grief or public mourning.

The families continue to carry the torch of remembrance as they organize annual memorial vigils every June 23. Few others attend. Many victims’ relatives have died since 1985. Some spouses, siblings or parents are now in their 80s, wondering why the bombing is still not widely discussed in schools or in public discourse.

The grinding and unsatisfying criminal proceedings, the belated public inquiry and the welcome but lukewarm apology by the Canadian government 25 years after the fact have all contributed to the failure of this tragedy to adhere more solidly to the Canadian consciousness. In fact, many continue to deny the Canadian significance of Flight 182 and view the bombing as a foreign event.

A torch of remembrance

At last month’s conference, my research team launched the Air India Flight 182 archive to counter this collective amnesia and lack of acknowledgement.

Canadian archival consultant and writer Laura Millar has said that archives act as “touchstones to memory” and can aid the process of transforming individual memories into collective remembering. Adopting NYU professor Carol Gilligan’s ethics of care for the archive, we have been consulting with families to find ways to share their grief with the public.

The Flight 182 memory archive — both physical and digital — serves as a repository for artefacts, first-person narratives, memorabilia and creative works related to the tragedy produced by family members. Family donations of artefacts such as dance videos and pilot wings redirect notions of archives away from a documental deposit. Hopefully, they can move the public to learn and care for the impacts of the Flight 182 bombing.

The archive is a publicly accessible record of the tragedy, where scholars and everyday citizens can learn about the victims and their families.

Since the past involves both the present and the future, the archive will enable a meaningful recognition of marginalized voices and histories. It can offer a form of memory justice for those who would otherwise be forgotten by sustaining memory from generation to generation.

While the archive articulates the demand from families that the bombing of Flight 182 and its aftermath be incorporated into Canadian national consciousness, establishing this archive alone will not be enough to elevate the memory of Flight 182 to the place it deserves.

But at least it establishes a rich, permanent academic and personal legacy for the community of mourners, and for the Canadian and global public to find it, use it and learn from its many lessons.

Families of those on board the 1985 flight are preparing to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the terror bombing of Flight 182 that has devastated their lives.

As we learn more about the tragic Air India Flight 171 crash on June 12, the lessons of Flight 182 will hopefully prevent a new set of families from feeling the pain of indifference on top of the unimaginable agony of loss they’re already experiencing.

The Conversation

Chandrima Chakraborty receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.

ref. Air India crash in Ahmedabad sends reverberations to Canadian families of Air India Flight 182 – https://theconversation.com/air-india-crash-in-ahmedabad-sends-reverberations-to-canadian-families-of-air-india-flight-182-258991

Nineteen Eighty-Four might have been inspired by George Orwell’s fear of drowning

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Nathan Waddell, Associate Professor in Twentieth-Century Literature, University of Birmingham

George Orwell had a traumatic relationship with the sea. In August 1947, while he was writing Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949) on the island of Jura in the Scottish Hebrides, he went on a fishing trip with his young son, nephew and niece.

Having misread the tidal schedules, on the way back Orwell mistakenly piloted the boat into rough swells. He was pulled into the fringe of the Corryvreckan whirlpool off the coasts of Jura and Scarba. The boat capsized and Orwell and his relatives were thrown overboard.

It was a close call – a fact recorded with characteristic detachment by Orwell in his diary that same evening: “On return journey today ran into the whirlpool & were all nearly drowned.” Though he seems to have taken the experience in his stride, this may have been a trauma response: detachment ensures the ability to persist after a near-death experience.

We don’t know for sure if Nineteen Eighty-Four was influenced by the Corryvreckan incident. But it’s clear that the novel was written by a man fixated on water’s terrifying power.


This article is part of Rethinking the Classics. The stories in this series offer insightful new ways to think about and interpret classic books and artworks. This is the canon – with a twist.


Nineteen Eighty-Four isn’t typically associated with fear of death by water. Yet it’s filled with references to sinking ships, drowning people and the dread of oceanic engulfment. Fear of drowning is a torment that social dissidents might face in Room 101, the torture chamber to which all revolutionaries are sent in the appropriately named totalitarian state of Oceania.

An early sequence in the novel describes a helicopter attack on a ship full of refugees, who are bombed as they fall into the sea. The novel’s protagonist, Winston Smith, has a recurring nightmare in which he dreams of his long-lost mother and sister trapped “in the saloon of a sinking ship, looking up at him through the darkening water”.

George Orwell in a black and white photograph
George Orwell in 1943.
National Union of Journalists

The sight of them “drowning deeper every minute” takes Winston back to a culminating moment in his childhood when he stole chocolate from his mother’s hand, possibly condemning his sister to starvation. These watery graves imply that Winston is drowning in guilt.

The “wateriness” of Nineteen Eighty-Four may have another interesting historical source. In his essay My Country Right or Left (1940), Orwell recalls that when he had just become a teenager he read about the “atrocity stories” of the first world war.

Orwell states in this same essay that “nothing in the whole war moved [him] so deeply as the loss of the Titanic had done a few years earlier”, in 1912. What upset Orwell most about the Titanic disaster was that in its final moments it “suddenly up-ended and sank bow foremost, so that the people clinging to the stern were lifted no less than 300 feet into the air before they plunged into the abyss”.

Sinking ships and dying civilisations

Orwell never forgot this image. Something similar to it appears in his novel Keep the Aspidistra Flying (1936) where the idea of a sinking passenger liner evokes the collapse of modern civilisation, just as the Titanic disaster evoked the end of Edwardian industrial confidence two decades beforehand.

A boy selling newspapers about the Titanic accident
The Titanic disaster had a profound impact on Orwell.
Wiki Commons

References to sinking ships and drowning people appear at key moments in many other works by Orwell, too. But did the full impact of the Titanic surface in Nineteen Eighty-Four?

Sinking ships were part of Orwell’s descriptive toolkit. In Nineteen Eighty-Four, a novel driven by memories of unsympathetic water, they convey nightmares. Filled with references to water and liquidity, it’s one of the most aqueous novels Orwell produced, relying for many of its most shocking episodes on imagery of desperate people drowning or facing imminent death on sinking sea craft.

The thought of trapped passengers descending into the depths survives in Winston’s traumatic memories of his mother and sister, who, in the logic of his dreams, are alive inside a sinking ship’s saloon.


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There’s no way to prove that the Nineteen Eighty-Four is “about” the Titanic disaster, but in the novel, and indeed in Orwell’s wider body of work, there are too many tantalising hints to let the matter rest.

Thinking about fear of death by water takes us into Orwell’s terrors just as it takes us into Winston’s, allowing readers to see the frightened boy inside the adult man and, indeed, inside the author who dreamed up one of the 20th century’s most famous nightmares.

Beyond the canon

As part of the Rethinking the Classics series, we’re asking our experts to recommend a book or artwork that tackles similar themes to the canonical work in question, but isn’t (yet) considered a classic itself. Here is Nathan Waddell’s suggestion:

As soon as the news broke of the Titanic’s sinking, literary works of all shapes and sizes started to appear in tribute to the disaster and its victims. As the century went on, and as research into the tragedy developed (particularly after the ships wreckage was discovered in 1985), more nuanced literary responses to the sinking became possible.

One such response is Beryl Bainbridge’s Whitbread-prize-winning novel Every Man for Himself (1996). It reimagines the disaster from the first-person perspective of an imaginary character, Morgan, the fictional nephew of the historically real financier J. P. Morgan (who was due to sail on the Titanic but changed plans before it sailed).

This article features references to books that have been included for editorial reasons, and may contain links to bookshop.org. If you click on one of the links and go on to buy something from bookshop.org The Conversation UK may earn a commission.

The Conversation

Nathan Waddell does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Nineteen Eighty-Four might have been inspired by George Orwell’s fear of drowning – https://theconversation.com/nineteen-eighty-four-might-have-been-inspired-by-george-orwells-fear-of-drowning-251289

‘Making decisions closer to the wharf’ can ensure the sustainability of Canada’s fisheries and oceans

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Matthew Robertson, Research Scientist, Fisheries and Marine Institute, Memorial University of Newfoundland

The harbour in Bonavista, Newfoundland. Major reforms could fundamentally reshape fisheries science and management in Canada (Sally LeDrew/Wikimedia commons), CC BY-SA

During the federal election campaign, Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney announced that if elected, he would look into restructuring Fisheries and Oceans Canada (DFO). Carney stated that he understood the importance of DFO and of “making decisions closer to the wharf.”

Carney’s statement was made in response to protesting fish harvesters in Newfoundland and Labrador who decried recent DFO decision-making for multiple fisheries, including Northern cod and snow crab.

Although addressing industry concerns is important, any change to DFO decision-making must serve the broader public interest, which includes commitments to reconciliation and conserving biodiversity.

Major reforms could fundamentally reshape fisheries science and management in Canada, yet most Canadians are unaware of how DFO’s science-management process works, or why change might be needed.

The DFO’s dual mandate

DFO has long been criticized for its dual mandate, which involves both supporting economic growth and conserving the environment.

For organizations like DFO to be trusted by the public, they need to produce information and policies that are credible, relevant and legitimate.

However, DFO’s dual mandates have been viewed as antithetical and have at the least created a perceived conflict of interest. The issue at stake is how science advice from DFO can be considered independent, if it is also supposed to serve commercial interests.

One solution to this problem would be to shift control over the economic viability of fisheries to provinces. This is not a radical idea by any means, as most of the economic value of the fishery arises after fish are brought to harbour.

fishing boats in a harbour
Fishing boats in the town of Clarke’s Harbour, located on Cape Sable Island, Nova Scotia in July 2011.
(Dennis G. Jarvis/Wikimedia commons), CC BY-SA

For example, licences to process groundfish like cod, haddock and halibut —which Nova Scotia has just announced will be opened for new entrants following decades of a moratorium — as well as policies governing the purchase of seafood already fall to provinces.

In 2024, all 13 ministers from the Canadian Council of Fisheries and Aquaculture Ministers indicated a desire for “joint management” between provinces and DFO.

This was driven driven by a concern that the department has not focused enough on provincial and territorial fisheries issues. This shouldn’t be seen as a criticism of DFO, but rather an opportunity to embrace differentiated responsibility.

DFO could maintain regulatory control for fisheries, like enforcing the Fisheries Act, defining licence conditions and performing long-term monitoring and assessments. As included in the modernized Fisheries Act, it could still consider the social and economic objectives in decision-making.

Regional decision-making

DFO is structured into regions with their own science and management branches, but many decisions end up being made by staff at DFO headquarters in Ottawa. In addition, the federal fisheries minister retains ministerial discretion for almost every decision, something that has been criticized as being inequitable.

During an interview with researchers looking into fisheries management policy, a regional manager stated that they no longer make decisions:

“Because of…risk aversion, much more of the decision-making has now been bumped up to higher levels. So I like to facetiously state that I am no longer a manager, I am a recommender.”

Centralized decision-making can limit communication between regional scientists and managers and federal government policymakers.

This communication gap can make it difficult for managers to use the latest science and adjust policies quickly and it can also lead to recommended policies that are challenging to implement at the local level.

Handing management decision-making power to regional fisheries managers could therefore benefit science and policy, and contribute to decisions that are deemed more equitable by those impacted.

a map of Canada showing the country divided into seven regions: Arctic, Pacific, Ontario and Prairies, Québec, Newfoundland and Labrador, the Gulf and the Maritimes
A map representing DFO’s regional structure.
(Fisheries and Oceans Canada)

Other countries use a regional management approach. In the United States, marine fisheries are managed by eight regional fishery management councils that use scientific advice from the National Marine Fisheries Service. Although not without their flaws, the successful rebuilding of overfished stocks in the U.S. has been attributed, in part, to the regional council system.

Governance systems that have multiple but connected centres of decision-making are generally expected to be more participatory, flexible to respond to changes and have improved spatial fit between knowledge and policy actions.

This type of approach could shift the focus of Ottawa-based managers and the fisheries minister to ensuring national consistency.

Local stakeholder involvement

Canada’s current methods for inclusion of social and economic considerations are limited and have produced scientific advice that is not fully separable from rights holder and stakeholder input.

Most of DFO’s scientific peer-review process is focused on ecological science conducted by DFO scientists. The peer-review process often also involves rights holders and stakeholders. While Indigenous rights holders and community stakeholders may not be trained in the presented analyses, they often contribute to these meetings by describing their knowledge and experiences.

However, because the meetings are focused on DFO ecological science, they are not designed to formally consider stakeholder and rights holder knowledge. This can lead to two key issues. First, it may blur the line between peer-reviewed science and rights holder and stakeholder input, reducing the credibility of the scientific advice.

Second, the valuable information provided by rights holders and stakeholders may be overlooked since it is not shared in a setting designed to incorporate it.

The lack of review of alternative Indigenous knowledge sources and social and economic science during peer-review processes inherently limits the advice that can be provided. It suggests that the government is not benefiting from the opportunity to incorporate diverse knowledge bases.

These problems could be addressed by developing procedures through which stakeholders and rights holders contribute their local and traditional knowledge to better inform ecological and socio-economic considerations.

By increasing the number of peer-review platforms, rights holder and stakeholder input could be reviewed similarly to ecological science. This change would likely increase the credibility, legitimacy and salience of information used to inform fishery managers.

Regardless of how rights holders and stakeholders perspectives are included, the process should be clearly structured and documented.

By reconsidering DFO’s mandate, decentralizing management decision-making and improving the scientific consideration of varied forms of knowledge, DFO could make decisions that are closer to the wharf.

The Conversation

Matthew Robertson receives funding from the Canadian Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada (NSERC) Discovery Grant and the Fisheries & Oceans Canada (DFO) Atlantic Fisheries Fund (AFF).

Megan Bailey receives research funding from multiple sources, including NSERC, SSHRC, CIRNAC, Genome Atlantic, Nippon Foundation Ocean Nexus Centre, Ocean Frontier Institute (through a Canada First Research Excellence Fund), and the Canada Research Chairs program.

Tyler Eddy receives funding from the Natural Sciences and Engineering Research Council of Canada (NSERC) Discovery Grant, Fisheries & Oceans Canada (DFO) Atlantic Fisheries Fund (AFF) and Sustainable Fisheries Science Fund (SFSF), the Canada First Research Excellence Fund (CFREF), and the Crown Indigenous Relations and Northern Affairs Canada (CIRNAC) Indigenous Community-Based Climate Monitoring (ICBCM) Program.

ref. ‘Making decisions closer to the wharf’ can ensure the sustainability of Canada’s fisheries and oceans – https://theconversation.com/making-decisions-closer-to-the-wharf-can-ensure-the-sustainability-of-canadas-fisheries-and-oceans-254874

How pterosaurs learned to fly: scientists have been looking in the wrong place to solve this mystery

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Davide Foffa, Research Fellow in Palaeobiology, University of Birmingham

Ever since the first fragments of pterosaur bone surfaced nearly 250 years ago, palaeontologists have puzzled over one question: how did these close cousins of land-bound dinosaurs take to the air and evolve powered flight? The first flying vertebrates seemed to appear on the geological stage fully formed, leaving almost no trace of their first tentative steps into the air.

Taken at face value, the fossil record implies that pterosaurs suddenly originated in the later part of the Triassic period (around 215 million years ago), close to the equator on the northern super-continent Pangaea. They then spread quickly between the Triassic and the Jurassic periods, about 10 million years later, in the wake of a mass extinction that was most likely caused by massive volcanic activity.

Most of the handful of Triassic specimens come from narrow seams of dark shale in Italy and Austria, with other fragments discovered in Greenland, Argentina and the southwestern US. These skeletons appear fully adapted for flight, with a hyper-elongated fourth finger supporting membrane-wings. Yet older rocks show no trace of intermediate gliders or other transitional forms that you might expect as evidence of pterosaurs’ evolution over time.

There are two classic competing explanations for this. The literal reading says pterosaurs evolved elsewhere and did not reach those regions where most have been discovered until very late in the Triassic period, by which time they were already adept flyers. The sceptical reading notes that pterosaurs’ wafer-thin, hollow bones could easily vanish from the fossil record, dissolve, get crushed or simply be overlooked, creating this false gap.

Eudimorphodon ranzii fossil found in Bergamo in 1973
Eudimorphodon ranzii fossil from Bergamo in 1973 is one of many pterosaur discoveries from southern Europe.
Wikimedia, CC BY-SA

For decades, the debate stalled as a result of too few fossils or too many missing rocks. This impasse began to change in 2020, when scientists identified the closest relatives of pterosaurs in a group of smallish upright reptiles called lagerpetids.

From comparing many anatomical traits across different species, the researchers established that pterosaurs and lagerpetids shared many similarities including their skulls, skeletons and inner ears. While this discovery did not bring any “missing link” to the table, it showed what the ancestor of pterosaurs would have looked like: a rat-to-dog-sized creature that lived on land and in trees.

This brought new evidence about when pterosaurs may have originated. Pterosaurs and lagerpetids like Scleromochlus, a small land-dwelling reptile, diverged at some point after the end-Permian mass extinction. It occurred some 250 million years ago, 35 million years before the first pterosaur appearance in the fossil record.

Artist's impression of a Scleromochlus
Scleromochlus is one of the lagerpetids, the closest known relatives to the pterosaurs.
Gabriel Ugueto

Pterosaurs and their closest kin did not share the same habitats, however. Our new study, featuring new fossil maps, shows that soon after lagerpetids appeared (in southern Pangaea), they spread across wide areas, including harsh deserts, that many other groups were unable to get past. Lagerpetids lived both in these deserts and in humid floodplains.

They tolerated hotter, drier settings better than any early pterosaur, implying that they had evolved to cope with extreme temperatures. Pterosaurs, by contrast, were more restricted. Their earliest fossils cluster in the river and lake beds of the Chinle and Dockum basins (southwest US) and in moist coastal belts fringing the northern arm of the Tethys Sea, a huge area that occupied today’s Alps.

Scientists have inferred from analysing a combination of fossil distributions, rock features and climate simulations that pterosaurs lived in areas that were warm but not scorching. The rainfall would have been comparable to today’s tropical forests rather than inland deserts.

This suggests that the earliest flying dinosaurs may have lived in tree canopies, using foliage both for take-off and to protect themselves from predators and heat. As a result of this confined habitat, the distances that they flew may have been quite limited.

Changing climates

We were then able to add a fresh dimension to the story using a method called ecological niche modelling. This is routinely used in modern conservation to project where endangered animals and plants might live as the climate gets hotter. By applying this approach to later Triassic temperatures, rainfall and coastlines, we asked where early pterosaurs lived, regardless of whether they’ve shown up there in the fossil record.

Many celebrated fossil sites in Europe emerge as poor pterosaur habitat until very late in the Triassic period: they were simply too hot, too dry or otherwise inhospitable before the Carnian age, around 235 million years ago. The fact that no specimens have been discovered there that are more than about 215 million years old may be because the climate conditions were still unsuitable or simply because we don’t have the right type of rocks preserved of that age.

In contrast, parts of the south-western US, Morocco, India, Brazil, Tanzania and southern China seem to have offered welcoming environments several million years earlier than the age of our oldest discoveries. This rewrites the search map. If pterosaurs could have thrived in those regions much more than 215 million years ago, but we have not found them there, the problem may again lie not with biology but with geology: the right rocks have not been explored, or they preserve fragile fossils only under exceptional conditions.

Our study flags a dozen geological formations, from rivers with fine sediment deposits to lake beds, as potential prime targets for the next breakthrough discovery. They include the Timezgadiouine beds of Morocco, the Guanling Formation of south-west China and, in South America, several layers of rock from the Carnian age, such as the Santa Maria Formation, Chañares Formation and Ischigualasto Formation.

Pterosaurs were initially confined to tropical treetops near the equator. When global climates shifted and forested corridors opened, pterosaurs’ wings catapulted them into every corner of the planet and ultimately carried them through one of Earth’s greatest extinctions. What began as a tale of missing fossils has become a textbook example of how climate, ecology and evolutionary science have come together to illuminate a fragmentary history that has intrigued paleontologists for over two centuries.

The Conversation

Davide Foffa is funded by Marie Skłodowska-Curie Actions: Individual (Global) Fellowship (H2020-MSCA-IF-2020; No.101022550), and by the Royal Commission for the Exhibition of 1851–Science Fellowship

Alfio Alessandro Chiarenza receives funding from The Royal Society (Newton International Fellowship NIFR1231802)

Emma Dunne does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. How pterosaurs learned to fly: scientists have been looking in the wrong place to solve this mystery – https://theconversation.com/how-pterosaurs-learned-to-fly-scientists-have-been-looking-in-the-wrong-place-to-solve-this-mystery-259063

Haiti on the brink: Gangs fill power vacuum as current solutions fail a nation in crisis

Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Greg Beckett, Associate Professor of Anthropology, Western University

Haiti is facing a multifaceted crisis unlike any in the country’s modern history.

Haiti recently marked the one-year anniversary of Haiti’s Presidential Transitional Council’s (CPT) new government — an internationally backed effort to restore governance in the country after Prime Minister Ariel Henry was ousted by gangs.

But rather than charting a path to stability, the CPT remains mired in dysfunction as Haiti’s crisis deepens with no end in sight. Armed gangs now control most of the capital, more than a million Haitians have been displaced and half the country faces acute food insecurity.

Criminal gangs have taken control of most of the capital city of Port-au-Prince and significant parts of the country. Since 2021, gangs have killed more than 15,000 people and forcibly displaced over a million people.

Beyond the security situation, there is a dire humanitarian emergency as more than half the country faces severe food insecurity.

The United Nations says the country may be reaching a point of no return and risks falling into “total chaos.”

Haitian friends tell me their whole country feels as blocked as the barricaded streets and choke points used by the gangs to control the capital.

A security crisis paralyzing everything

The impasse is undoubtedly shaped by entrenched gang violence. Armed groups have been used by political players for political ends in Haiti for decades.

But now, new, well-organized armed gangs have emerged as political entities in their own right.

For example, the G9 Alliance, the most notorious of gangs — actually a federation of gangs — is led by former police officer Jimmy “Barbecue” Chérizier.

Chérizier presents himself on social media as a revolutionary figure fighting the elites, but in the streets of Port-au-Prince most, see him as a violent criminal.

Last year, the G9 merged with rivals to form a coalition called Viv Ansamn (Live Together). Led by Chérizier and others, the group forced Prime Minister Ariel Henry from power. Henry had become prime pinister after the assassination of Haiti’s last elected head of state, President Jovenel Moïse, in July 2021, despite himself being implicated in the assassination.

Both Henry and Moïse were accused of paying gangs to maintain control.

Viv Ansamn’s takeover of the capital confirms gangs have become an autonomous political force. They have since expanded their power through their control over fuel supplies, critical infrastructure and key choke points.

It’s telling that the gangs have become so powerful despite the presence of a UN-approved, Kenya-led Multinational Security Support (MSS) mission. The mission has been in Haiti since shortly after Henry was forced out of power.

But with limited scope and funding from donor countries, including the United States, Canada and Ecuador, the mission has failed to achieve any major successes. Indeed, by the UN’s own estimates, gang violence continues to have a “devastating impact” on the population, despite the presence of the mission.

Last month, the U.S. government designated Viv Ansamn and Gran Grif, Haiti’s two most powerful armed gangs, as terrorist organizations. Canada and others have also imposed sanctions on politicians and gang leaders, and perhaps this could lead to more sanctions against those who most directly benefit from the crisis. But for residents of Port-au-Prince, little has changed on the ground, where many feel the gangs are holding the country hostage.

Democratic vacuum with no clear path forward

A common saying in Haiti goes like this: peyi’m pa gen leta, my country has no state. Once a criticism of a particular government, it now feels literal. Haiti has no elected national officials.

The CPT was established by the Organization of American States after Henry’s ousting, but has has done little to restore democracy. Elections are impossible under the current security conditions.

Instead, the CPT has become another obstacle to resolution. Mired in internal conflict, some members have been accused of bribery. With no framework for political compromise, the council reflects a system where some key players actually benefit from the political impasse.

Governing structures that can’t govern

Haiti is now in uncharted territory. The CPT operates in a legal vacuum, making decisions without a clear mandate or authority.

Still, the council is moving forward with a controversial plan to rewrite the Haitian constitution. The proposed changes will fundamentally alter Haiti’s government structure, including abolishing the senate and the prime minister, allowing presidents to hold consecutive terms, changing election procedures and allowing dual citizens and Haitians living abroad to run for office.

This constitutional reform highlights the paradox at the heart of Haiti’s crisis: an institution with questionable legitimacy is attempting to redesign the very framework that would determine its own authority.

These aren’t just procedural problems: they represent fundamental questions about who has the authority to govern and how decisions get made in a country where democratic institutions have always been fragile.

International responses miss the mark

International groups, including the UN, the Organization of American States and the Core Group that includes the United States, Canada and France, have overseen Haiti’s politics for decades. But their influence has often backfired. Many in Haiti see the international community as directly responsible for the current crisis.

Whatever internal problems have given rise to the current crisis, the role played by the international community in Haiti has undoubtedly contributed to the impasse.

The MSS mission is a stop gap at best and a liability at worst. It is insufficient for the scale of the crisis.

Some observers have called for a full UN peacekeeping mission, but there is little support for it and such a mission would likely face resistance within Haiti given the country’s fraught history with international interventions.

Can the international community undo the damage it has already done? And can Haiti make it through the impasse without the international community?

Beyond the impasse: What needs to change

There are no easy solutions. Addressing gang violence without legitimate governing institutions won’t create lasting stability. Yet the path to a legitimate government remains unclear as organizing elections without basic security is unrealistic.

The international community must stop treating Haiti as a series of separate crises requiring separate responses. The current piecemeal approach treats symptoms while ignoring the underlying causes that block political resolutions.

For Haitians, the stakes could not be higher. The question isn’t whether change is needed, but whether the international community and Haitian leaders can move beyond the impasse before the situation deteriorates even further.

The Conversation

Greg Beckett receives funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada.

ref. Haiti on the brink: Gangs fill power vacuum as current solutions fail a nation in crisis – https://theconversation.com/haiti-on-the-brink-gangs-fill-power-vacuum-as-current-solutions-fail-a-nation-in-crisis-257948

Are Israel’s actions in Iran illegal? Could it be called self-defence? An international law expert explains

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Shannon Bosch, Associate Professor (Law), Edith Cowan University

Israel’s major military operation against Iran has targeted its nuclear program, including its facilities and scientists, as well as its military leadership.

In response, the United Nations Security Council has quickly convened an emergency sitting. There, the Israeli ambassador to the UN Danny Danon defended Israel’s actions as a “preventative strike” carried out with “precision, purpose, and the most advanced intelligence”. It aimed, he said, to:

dismantle Iran’s nuclear programme, eliminate the architects of its terror and aggression and neutralise the regime’s ability to follow through on its repeated public promise to destroy the state of Israel.

So, what does international law say about self-defence? And were Israel’s actions illegal under international law?

When is self-defence allowed?

Article 2.4 of the UN charter states:

All members shall refrain in their international relations from the threat or use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any state, or in any other manner inconsistent with the Purposes of the United Nations.

There are only two exceptions:

  1. when the UN Security Council authorises force, and
  2. when a state acts in self-defence.

This “inherent right of individual or collective self-defence”, as article 51 of the UN charter puts it, persists until the Security Council acts to restore international peace and security.

So what’s ‘self-defence’ actually mean?

The International Court of Justice (ICJ) has consistently interpreted self-defence narrowly.

In many cases, it has rejected arguments from states such as the United States, Uganda and Israel that have sought to promote a more expansive interpretation of self-defence.

The 9/11 attacks marked a turning point. The UN Security Council affirmed in resolutions 1368 and 1373 that the right to self-defence extends to defending against attacks by non-state actors, such as terrorist groups. The US, invoking this right, launched its military action in Afghanistan.

The classic understanding of self-defence – that it’s justified when a state responds reactively to an actual, armed attack – was regarded as being too restrictive in the age of missiles, cyberattacks and terrorism.

This helped give rise to the idea of using force before an imminent attack, in anticipatory self-defence.

The threshold for anticipatory self-defence is widely seen by scholars as high. It requires what’s known as “imminence”. In other words, this is the “last possible window of opportunity” to act to stop an unavoidable attack.

As set out by then-UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan in 2005:

as long as the threatened attack is imminent, no other means would deflect it and the action is proportionate, this would meet the accepted interpretation of self defence under article 51.

As international law expert Donald Rothwell points out, the legitimacy of anticipatory self-defence hinges on factual scrutiny and strict criteria, balancing urgency, legality and accountability.

However, the lines quickly blurred

In 2002, the US introduced a “pre-emptive doctrine” in its national security strategy.

This argued new threats – such as terrorism and weapons of mass destruction – justified using force to forestall attacks before they occurred.

Critics, including Annan, warned that if the notion of preventive self-defence was widely accepted, it would undermine the prohibition on the use of force. It would basically allow states to act unilaterally on speculative intelligence.

Annan acknowledged:

if there are good arguments for preventive military action, with good evidence to support them, they should be put to the Security Council, which can authorise such action if it chooses to.

If it does not so choose, there will be, by definition, time to pursue other strategies, including persuasion, negotiation, deterrence and containment – and to visit again the military option.

This is exactly what Israel has failed to do before attacking Iran.

Lessons from history

Israel’s stated goal was to damage Iran’s nuclear program and prevent it from developing a nuclear weapon that could be used against it.

This is explicitly about preventing an alleged, threatened, future attack by Iran with a nuclear weapon that, according to all publicly available information, Iran does not currently possess.

This is not the first time Israel has advanced a broad interpretation of self-defence.

In 1981, Israel bombed Iraq’s Osirak nuclear reactor, which was under construction on the outskirts of Baghdad. It claimed a nuclear-armed Iraq would pose an unacceptable threat. The UN Security Council condemned the attack.

As international law stands, unless an armed attack is imminent and unavoidable, such strikes are likely to be considered unlawful uses of force.

While there is still time and opportunity to use non-forcible means to prevent the threatened attack, there’s no necessity to act now in self defence.

Diplomatic engagement, sanction, and international monitoring of Iran’s nuclear program – such as through the International Atomic Energy Agency – remain the lawful means of addressing the emerging threat posed by Tehran.

Preserving the rule of law

The right to self-defence is not a blank cheque.

Anticipatory self-defence remains legally unsettled and highly contested.

So were Israel’s attacks on Iran a legitimate use of “self-defence”? I would argue no.

I concur with international law expert Marko Milanovic that Israel’s claim to be acting in preventive self-defence must be rejected on the facts available to us.

In a volatile world, preserving these legal limits is essential to avoiding unchecked aggression and preserving the rule of law.

The Conversation

Shannon Bosch does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Are Israel’s actions in Iran illegal? Could it be called self-defence? An international law expert explains – https://theconversation.com/are-israels-actions-in-iran-illegal-could-it-be-called-self-defence-an-international-law-expert-explains-259259