COLUMN: Hundreds of Montrealers are shouting at Carney what the polls are whispering—don’t drag us into this war

The Voice of the Canadian-Iranian Congress

Mona Ghassemi, president and spokesperson for the Canadian-Iranian Congress, took the microphone on Saturday with a cold, clinical anger. No hysteria. No tears. Just facts and contempt.

“The Canadian-Iranian Congress condemns Prime Minister Mark Carney’s hypocritical support for the U.S.-Israeli aggression against Iran. ” The word “hypocritical” was not chosen by chance. It directly targets the gap between public rhetoric—“Canada will not participate”—and concrete actions—the offer to patrol the Strait of Hormuz.

Hypocrisy as a Foreign Policy Doctrine

What Ghassemi is actually describing is a well-established mechanism. War is never declared. Instead, we “contribute to security.” We “ensure freedom of navigation.” We “support our allies.” The vocabulary is designed so that, technically, no one can say that Canada is at war. But when a Canadian ship sails through a strait fraught with tension, when a Canadian sailor comes under fire from an Iranian drone—what exactly is the difference?

Diplomacy by euphemism has its limits. And those limits are measured in human lives.

Months of Ignored Requests

Boutaina Chafi, spokesperson for the Palestinian Youth Movement, pointed out on Saturday a fact that the media tends to overlook: protests against the war in the Middle East are nothing new. Quebecers have been calling on the federal government for months to stop sending weapons to Israel via the United States. To no avail.

“As long as Carney refuses to yield to the demands of the majority of his people, we will continue to mobilize en masse,” she stated. The phrasing is polite. But the subtext is anything but. What she’s saying, in essence: we’re not going anywhere. You can ignore us, but we’ll be there next Saturday. And the one after that.

Democracy cannot be exported by bombs

During her interview in the midst of the protest, Chafi articulated a truth that foreign policy architects would do well to frame and hang above their desks: “Democracy in our countries will not be brought about by bombing, by destruction, or by the killing of civilians. That’s not how you change things.”

This statement is not a slogan. It is an assessment—an assessment of Iraq, Afghanistan, and Libya. Three countries where the West claimed to bring democracy by force. Three countries that are now more unstable, more violent, and more authoritarian than they were before the intervention. If the definition of insanity is repeating the same action while hoping for a different result, then Western foreign policy in the Middle East has been clinically insane for the past twenty years.

The Double Standard of the “Right to Defend Oneself”

In Saturday’s crowd, there was a protester named Danielle whose words are worth pausing to consider. Not because she’s an expert in international relations. Precisely because she isn’t. Because her question is one that any reasonable citizen would ask.

“When Israel invaded Gaza, people said Israel has the right to defend itself. And now, people are starting to say that Iran doesn’t have the right to defend itself. What does all this mean?”

And yet, no one in the corridors of power will answer her. Because the honest answer would be untenable: the right to defend oneself is a privilege granted to allies and denied to adversaries. It’s not a legal principle. It’s a rhetorical tool. And Danielle, standing on the sidewalk of a Montreal street, has just articulated it more clearly than a thousand editorialists.

A war “without justification”

For Danielle, this conflict is “against the international order.” Four words that carry great weight. Because what she is describing—without resorting to legal jargon—is precisely what many experts in international law denounce: a military action carried out without a UN mandate, without prior aggression justifying a proportionate response, and without a clear legal framework. “Canada should never volunteer to participate in a war like this,” she concludes. It’s hard to disagree with her.

When War Has a Face and a Name

Statistics dehumanize. Sami, on the other hand, embodies the reality. This Montreal protester of Lebanese origin spoke words that should haunt anyone who advocates for military escalation in the Middle East: “My entire family in Lebanon has been displaced. I’ve lost family members.”

Lost. Not “affected.” Not “impacted.” Lost. The word is definitive. It leaves no room for interpretation. Human beings who existed, who laughed, who made coffee in the morning—are no longer here.

For whose “imperialist objectives”?

Sami added a clarification that cuts like a knife: his loved ones died “for the imperialist objectives of Israel and American capitalists.” One may disagree with his geopolitical framing. One may find his wording too militant, too partisan. But one cannot deny him the right to name the cause of his grief as he sees fit.

Because when you’ve buried a cousin, an aunt, a childhood friend, you no longer weigh your words with the delicacy of a government press release. You say what you think. And what Sami thinks is that his loved ones died for nothing—for interests that were not their own, in a war they did not choose, on a land that they had always been told was theirs.

Greg Beaune and the Specter of a Vicious Cycle

Greg Beaune, vice president of the Quebec Peace Movement, offered the most lucid analysis of the day on Saturday. His message was not intended to condemn Carney personally—it was intended to prevent him from committing an irreparable mistake.

“For us, as members of Quebec and Canadian society, it is very important to mobilize on a large scale to keep the pressure on the Carney government, precisely to prevent it from making a very bad decision—namely, to align itself with the United States.”

Pressure as an Act of Patriotism

What Beaune is describing is not opposition. It is prevention. He is not protesting against Canada—he is protesting for Canada. To protect it from a cycle that history has shown, time and again, crushes small countries in the service of larger ones. Canada is not a superpower. It has neither the means nor the strategic interest to play the role of policeman in the Persian Gulf. Every dollar spent patrolling the Strait of Hormuz is a dollar that won’t be invested in a hospital, a school, or housing.

And yet, the temptation is strong. Because saying “yes” to Washington yields diplomatic visibility, while saying “no” comes at the cost of trade retaliation. Carney, the former central banker, knows this arithmetic better than anyone. The question is whether he will be able to resist this equation.

55 kilometers that are worth thousands of lives

To understand why this protest took place on Saturday—and why others will follow—you need to look at a map. The Strait of Hormuz is 55 kilometers wide at its narrowest point. That’s less than the distance between Montreal and Saint-Jérôme. And about 21% of the world’s daily oil consumption passes through this tiny chokepoint.

Iran controls the northern shore. Oman controls the southern shore. Every oil tanker that passes through is within range of an Iranian missile. Every military vessel that ventures there is a potential provocation. When Carney proposes to “contribute to the security” of this strait, he is in fact proposing to place Canadian sailors in the line of fire.

Is oil worth Canadian blood?

That’s the question no one in Ottawa is asking out loud. But Saturday’s protesters are asking it. And their answer is no. No, the free flow of Saudi crude does not justify a single Canadian sailor risking his life. No, U.S. oil interests are not Canada’s interests. No, “maritime security” is not a concept noble enough to justify a coffin draped in red and white.

Canada is a net exporter of oil. It doesn’t need the Strait of Hormuz. So for whom, exactly, is Carney proposing to risk Canadian lives?

NATO, the Five Eyes, and the Mechanics of Obedience

In the corridors of Canadian foreign policy, there is a Pavlovian reflex that few leaders dare to question: when Washington calls, Ottawa answers. This reflex has a name. It’s called the alliance. And like all alliances, it works as long as interests converge—and devours its members when they diverge.

Trump has already said he “no longer needs help” to open the Strait of Hormuz. The message is clear: Washington isn’t asking for anything. It’s Carney who’s offering. Which makes the whole thing infinitely more troubling. We’re no longer talking about an ally answering a call—we’re talking about a country raising its hand before it’s even been asked.

The “Good Student” Syndrome in Geopolitics

Canada suffers from a recurring diplomatic condition: the need to be seen. To be noticed. To be praised by the major powers. It’s a legacy of the Cold War, exacerbated by Canada’s geographical proximity to the United States. Every Canadian prime minister wants to prove that Canada matters. And every time, the proof required is the same: sending soldiers somewhere.

Trudeau did it in Iraq. Harper did it in Afghanistan. Is Carney preparing to do it in the Persian Gulf? Saturday’s protesters think so. And they’ve decided not to wait until it’s too late to voice their opposition.

The Interconnection That the Media Fragments

What the organizers of Saturday’s demonstration understood—and what traditional media coverage struggles to convey—is that Gaza, Iran, and Lebanon are not three separate crises. They are part of a single arc of conflict, with the same actors, the same interests, and the same civilian victims.

Raymond Legault, spokesperson for the Échec à la guerre collective, put it clearly: the goal of the demonstration was to protest “the war that the United States and Israel have launched against Iran and the spread of the conflict to Lebanon”—while also denouncing the ongoing situation in Gaza. Three theaters, one conflict. And one country, Canada, that risks being dragged into it through the back door.

Canadian Weapons Transiting Through Washington

Boutaina Chafi raised a point that politicians would prefer us to forget: Canadian military components are arriving in Israel via the United States. The route is indirect, which allows Ottawa to claim that Canada is not arming Israel directly. Technically true. Morally indefensible.

It’s like selling a gun to your neighbor, knowing that he’ll lend it to someone who will use it to shoot your other neighbor—and claiming you had nothing to do with it because you weren’t the one who pulled the trigger. Protesters are no longer fooled by this accounting sleight of hand. Indirect complicity is still complicity.

Public Opinion Out of Step with the Government

Protests don’t spring up out of nowhere. They arise when the gap between what citizens want and what their leaders do becomes unbearable. In Canada, polls have shown for months that the public is divided but largely opposed to any military involvement in the Middle East. People haven’t forgotten Afghanistan. They haven’t forgotten the broken promises. They haven’t forgotten the coffins.

And yet, the Carney administration is sending mixed signals. On the one hand, reassurance: “no participation in the conflict.” On the other, a quiet escalation: “contribution to security in the Strait of Hormuz.” It is precisely this double-speak that is driving people into the streets. Not ideological anger. A legitimate fear of being betrayed by their own government.

Democracy as an Act of Resistance

There is something profoundly wholesome about the sight of hundreds of Canadians marching in the cold to say no to a war. This is democracy at work. Not the democracy of the ballot box, which is exercised only once every four years. But the democracy of the streets—the kind that reminds elected officials that they govern by consent—and that consent can be withdrawn.

Carney would do well to listen. Not because the protesters are necessarily right about everything. But because the political cost of ignoring this anger will be infinitely higher than the diplomatic cost of saying no to Washington.

The nuance that those who oversimplify refuse to see

Among Saturday’s testimonies, that of an Iranian woman whose family is partly in Iran deserves special attention. Because it debunks an intellectual shortcut that too many commentators take: the idea that opposing the war against Iran means supporting the Iranian regime.

This woman is not protesting on behalf of the mullahs. She is protesting for her mother, her brother, and her cousins—for human beings living under a regime they did not choose and who risk dying under bombs they did not deserve. War does not overthrow dictatorships—it strengthens them. Every bomb that falls on Tehran gives the regime another excuse to crack down on internal opposition in the name of “national unity in the face of aggression.” It’s a trap as old as war itself.

The Iranian people, held hostage on all sides

Iranians are caught in a vise. Oppressed by their own government. Bombed by foreign powers. Ignored by Western public opinion, which fails to distinguish between a regime and its people. And now, Canada—a country that prides itself on being a haven of tolerance and human rights—is considering participating, even indirectly, in their destruction.

If Canadian foreign policy had a conscience, it would have a knot in its stomach.

Lesson Number One: There’s No Such Thing as a “Half-War”

Military history is full of examples of countries that got involved “just a little” in a conflict—and found themselves in over their heads. The United States in Vietnam started with “military advisers.” France in Algeria started with “law enforcement operations.” Canada in Afghanistan started with a “stabilization mission.”

The pattern is always the same. First, a symbolic contribution. Then an incident. Then a response. Then an escalation. And before Parliament even has time to vote on anything, the country is at war. This is exactly the scenario that Saturday’s protesters are trying to prevent. Not to respond—to prevent.

The Strait of Hormuz today—what tomorrow?

If Canada agrees to patrol the Strait of Hormuz, what will be the next request? To escort convoys? To provide intelligence? To authorize overflights of its airspace? Every “yes” leads to another. And every “yes” makes the next “no” harder, more costly, and more humiliating. That’s the logic of the spiral. It is unforgiving.

Saying no to an ally—the hardest thing to do in diplomacy

Jean Chrétien did it in 2003. He said no to the invasion of Iraq. He was called a coward, an anti-American, and a traitor to the alliance. Twenty years later, history has proven him right so resoundingly that even his fiercest critics no longer dispute his decision. Iraq without weapons of mass destruction. Iraq in chaos. Iraq that gave birth to what was called the Islamic State.

Carney has the same opportunity today. Not the same situation—the same opportunity. The opportunity to say: Canada refuses to participate in a military adventure whose consequences are unpredictable, whose justifications are questionable, and whose beneficiaries are not Canadians. It would be unpopular in Washington. It would be heroic in Ottawa.

The Patriotism of Restraint

There is a form of patriotism that doesn’t march in parades, doesn’t wave flags, and doesn’t make headlines. It is the patriotism of those who refuse to send their fellow citizens to die for interests that are not their own. It is the patriotism of “no.” And that is exactly what Saturday’s protesters were asking Carney to demonstrate.

Not out of naive pacifism. Not out of sympathy for the Iranian regime. Out of love for their own country. Out of a refusal to let Canada become, once again, the military subcontractor for a superpower that hasn’t even asked for its help.

No Direct Response to Protesters

As of this writing, the Carney administration has not responded directly to Saturday’s protesters. Not a press release. Not a tweet. Not even one of those hollow “we hear Canadians’ concerns” statements that press secretaries are so good at crafting.

This silence is a choice. And like all silences in politics, it speaks louder than any speech. It says: Your voices don’t matter enough to warrant a response. It says: The decision has already been made—or is in the process of being made. It says: Protest all you want; we’ll move forward anyway.

Silent Contempt as a Tool of Governance

Ignoring a protest is the most dangerous response a government can give. Not because it’s mean—but because it’s explosive. Every ignored protest fuels the next one. Every silence feeds the conviction that the system is deaf. And when people stop believing their voices matter, they stop protesting peacefully. What comes next is always worse.

Carney, the former central bank governor, knows what it’s like when a bubble swells. He should recognize this one before it bursts.

The mobilization has only just begun

The four organizations behind Saturday’s demonstration are not fleeting movements. They are well-established groups with networks, trained activists, and proven mobilization capabilities. The Coalition du Québec Urgence Palestine has been organizing actions since the start of the conflict in Gaza. The collective Échec à la guerre has existed for over twenty years. These people will not go home.

If Carney maintains his ambiguity on the Strait of Hormuz, if he continues to send mixed signals, the protests will grow. They will spread to other cities. They will eventually become an election issue. And at that point, the political cost of ambiguity will far outweigh the diplomatic benefit of “contributing to maritime security.”

The countdown has begun

Every day that passes without Carney definitively clarifying Canada’s position brings the country closer to a point of no return. Wars don’t come with warning. They arise from an accumulation of small decisions that seemed reasonable at the time. And when we look back to understand how we got here, we discover that no one ever made the decision to go to war—we simply stopped making the decision not to.

On Saturday, in Montreal, hundreds of Canadians made that decision. They said no. It remains to be seen whether their prime minister will hear them before the roar of frigate engines drowns out their voices.

Signed, Jacques PJ Provost