Connect with us
[bsa_pro_ad_space id=12]

Business

Arrest of Telegram founder Pavel Durov signals an increasing threat to digital freedom

Published

27 minute read

Pavel Durov of Telegram speaks during the Digital Life Design conference (DLD) at HVB Forum on January 24, 2012, in Munich, Germany

From LifeSiteNews

By Christina Maas

The message being sent to every tech visionary, journalist, or outspoken citizen is if you don’t play by the new rules, the state will come for you. They’ve got the global mandate to ensure that dissenting voices are silenced, one way or another.

Picture this: a tech billionaire, who’s made his fortune building a platform that prioritizes privacy and free speech, is arrested at a Paris airport. Sounds like the plot of a dystopian thriller, right? Except it’s real life. Pavel Durov, the brain behind Telegram, found himself in handcuffs at Le Bourget airport over the weekend, marking another dark chapter in the ongoing war against free speech. 

What’s Durov’s crime, you ask? Well, it depends on which bureaucrat you ask. According to the official indictment, he’s guilty of everything short of kicking puppies – fraud, drug trafficking, organized crime, encouraging terrorism, and, just for good measure, providing encryption. The French authorities must have felt ambitious that day, throwing in the entire criminal code just to be sure. Let’s not forget that this whole circus started because Durov reportedly had the audacity to support free speech. Apparently, in 2024, that’s enough to get you a one-way ticket to a Parisian jail cell. 

READ: Telegram founder Pavel Durov arrested in France 

Durov’s detention has been extended by 96 hours. Because, you know, it takes a while to figure out which of these ludicrous charges will stick when the real crime was defending free speech. 

French President Emmanuel Macron assures everyone that Durov’s arrest is nothing more than a purely “judicial,” non-political act. You know, the kind of legal housekeeping every free society must endure to keep its otherwise robust freedoms from accidentally going rogue. Because, clearly, when you find the head of a privacy-focused tech giant behind bars, it’s all about upholding legal standards, right? 

But before we crown France this month’s champion of authoritarianism, let’s take a quick tour around the globe. In the European Union’s ever-benevolent grasp, a high-ranking official is threatening to drag U.S. social media platforms  through the censorship ringer. What’s the endgame? To ensure that the EU’s favorite brand of speech policing crosses the Atlantic. Forget about free expression – it’s all about toeing the line, or else. 

Not to be outdone, Brazil’s Supreme Court is adding its own flair to the global crackdown with secretive censorship orders slapped on online platforms. The idea here is simple: if you can’t kill the message, just gag the messenger. No court hearings, no appeals – just pure, unfiltered control. 

So, here we are, watching as the pillars of free speech are bulldozed in broad daylight, with tech moguls like Durov tossed behind bars for daring to build platforms that don’t kowtow to government censorship. The arrest of a billionaire for refusing to censor, a prime minister having citizens arrested for social media posts, an EU official threatening American companies with censorship demands, and a Brazilian judge unleashing secretive orders – this isn’t just a bad month for free speech; it’s a full-on assault. 

What’s the message being sent to every tech visionary, journalist, or outspoken citizen? Simple: if you don’t play by the new rules, the state will come for you. They’ve got the handcuffs, the secret orders, and, apparently, the global mandate to ensure that dissenting voices are silenced, one way or another. 

This isn’t just about Durov or Telegram. This is about the battle lines being drawn between governments that want absolute control and a shrinking pool of platforms still willing to fight for freedom. These are dangerous times for free speech, and if we don’t pay attention, we might just wake up to find it gone for good. 

Durov, who departed Russia in 2014 following disagreements with the Kremlin over internet freedoms, particularly related to his refusal to close opposition groups on the VK social network which he founded at the age of 22, has since dedicated his efforts to developing Telegram. 

Yet, after escaping Russia and its oppressive censorship demands, it’s now Western governments that have been the ones to make censorship demands. 

Created with his brother Nikolai in 2013, Telegram initially functioned similarly to other messaging services but has evolved into a more complex social network, facilitating large-scale communication through channels and groups. 

Despite residing in Dubai, where he enjoys citizenship alongside France and the UAE, Durov champions the app as a bastion of neutrality and free speech in an increasingly monitored digital world. 

In a statement on Telegram, the company said, “Telegram abides by EU laws,” mentioning the Digital Services Act in particular and adding that Pavel Durov “has nothing to hide.” 

The sight of Russian officials donning the mantle of “free speech defenders” is like watching a fox petition for chicken rights. Yet, here we are. Moscow is outraged – not at the idea of censorship (they do enough of that themselves) but because they’re not the ones holding the keys to the cell. French authorities, evidently too busy trying to build a legal house of cards against Telegram’s founder have somehow managed to snub their Russian counterparts, who are now demanding consular access and throwing diplomatic shade from the Russian embassy in Paris. 

Enter Vladislav Davankov, the deputy speaker of Russia’s State Duma, who’s managed to turn Durov’s arrest into a soapbox moment. Davankov’s allegation? That Durov’s detention is nothing more than a thinly veiled scheme by the West to hack into Telegram’s treasure trove of user data. According to him, this kind of violation of privacy “cannot be allowed.” That’s rich, coming from a regime that’s never met a dissident it didn’t want to silence or a data packet it didn’t want to intercept. But his allegations against the French government may actually be pretty close. 

To understand why Moscow is crying foul over Durov’s arrest, one must rewind the clock to 2014, when a 29-year-old Durov found himself at odds with the Kremlin. Back then, the Russian government was trying to twist his arm to shut down opposition groups on VK, the social network Durov had built from the ground up. Instead of capitulating, Durov took a stand for internet freedom, packed his bags, and left Russia for good. Fast forward a decade, and Durov is now based in Dubai, where he enjoys triple citizenship and a lifestyle reportedly far removed from his Kremlin-tangled past. 

Durov’s masterpiece, Telegram, started as just another messaging app, but has since morphed into a digital juggernaut. With 950 million monthly users, it’s a lifeline for news, a platform for both truth (and yes, like any other platform or legacy news outlet, misinformation) and, much to the chagrin of various governments, a symbol of digital resistance. In the chaotic storm of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Telegram has become a critical tool for both reporting on the conflict and narratives that governments find increasingly difficult to control. 

The irony in all of this is that after fleeing Russia’s oppressive demands, it’s now the so-called free world coming after Durov. The man who said “no” to the Kremlin’s censorship now finds himself in the crosshairs of Western governments, who are just as eager to force his hand. While the West has long championed itself as a bastion of free speech, Durov’s recent experience suggests otherwise. 

Telegram’s official statement makes this clear enough: “Telegram abides by EU laws,” it reads, with a polite nod to the much-vaunted Digital Services Act. But the real interesting part comes with the company’s assertion that Durov “has nothing to hide.” This could be true – or it could be the last defiant proclamation before the doors are kicked in by the data-hungry enforcers of digital orthodoxy. 

For Durov, this ordeal must feel like a twisted rerun. The same man who once resisted Moscow’s censorship demands now finds himself dodging the West’s increasingly sharp regulatory spears. It’s a grim reminder that no matter which flag flies over the government building, those in power seem to share one common goal: control. 

The arrest, coupled with the Kremlin’s performative outrage, lays bare the truth about the state of global free speech: it’s under attack from all sides. Whether it’s through overt censorship, as seen in Russia, or the subtler, but equally insidious, pressures from the West, the aim is the same: silence dissent, control the narrative, and pry open every digital lock that doesn’t fit the state’s key. 

In the EU, the Digital Services Act has been rolled out with all the fanfare of a revolutionary triumph, marketed as a safeguard for user “safety.” The truth, however, is far more sinister. What the EU is really doing is tightening its grip on the digital world, muzzling dissent under the guise of combating “misinformation” and “hate speech.” The arrest of Durov in France is just the latest – and most brazen – example of this creeping authoritarianism dressed up in bureaucratic language. 

The DSA is the EU’s shiny new tool for keeping social media and tech companies under its thumb. It mandates that platforms like Telegram must now answer to Big Brother, swiftly addressing so-called “disinformation” or risk facing severe penalties. The law is designed to force companies to do the dirty work of governments, effectively turning them into enforcers of state-approved narratives. It’s not about protecting users; it’s about controlling them. And in the world of modern governance, where the line between regulation and repression is blurrier than ever, Durov’s arrest is a warning shot. 

Digital speech under siege: Europe’s march toward censorship 

Let’s not mince words: the EU’s relentless push to “enhance user safety” is a euphemism for ramping up censorship. By couching these regulations in the language of public good, the EU manages to dodge the inconvenient truth that its real goal is to control the flow of information. The Digital Services Act, hailed as a “significant overhaul” of the EU’s digital policy, is little more than a power grab disguised as a public service. And the timing of Durov’s arrest in France – an EU stronghold – couldn’t be more telling. 

Durov, who’s spent years fighting back against censorship, now finds himself in the middle of a battle over the future of online speech. He’s built his reputation on refusing to bow to government demands, whether from the Kremlin or the West. But with his arrest in a supposedly free country, we see just how far the EU is willing to go to enforce its new digital regime. 

The DSA gives the EU unprecedented control over tech companies, demanding rapid responses to whatever it deems unfit for public consumption. For Telegram, this means beefing up content moderation or facing the wrath of Brussels – a stark choice between betraying its principles or suffering the consequences. 

READ: Christian doctor in Germany receives 2,500-euro fine for warning about COVID jab dangers in 2021 

The global chill: Durov’s arrest as a warning to tech CEOs 

Durov’s arrest sends a clear and chilling message: no one is safe from the reach of the state. If a billionaire tech CEO can be nabbed at an airport and held on dubious charges for daring to defend free speech, what hope is there for anyone else? The EU’s new laws and the arrest of Durov mark a dangerous escalation in the global war on free expression. Other tech leaders who have championed privacy and resisted censorship must be watching with a mix of fear and trepidation, wondering if they’re next on the hit list. 

The implications are profound. Durov’s stand against censorship has made him a symbol of resistance, but it’s also turned him into a target. The arrest coincides with an era where tensions over digital freedom are reaching a boiling point. Governments across the globe are tightening their noose on online platforms, and the EU’s DSA is the latest weapon in this fight. What we’re witnessing is the opening salvo in a broader campaign to control the digital public square, to ensure that only the “correct” information sees the light of day. 

The digital guillotine: How the EU’s DSA is reshaping the internet 

In the tradition of authoritarian overreach, the EU’s DSA represents more than just regulation – it’s the construction of a digital guillotine. The law doesn’t just keep tech companies in check; it keeps them in fear. With the power to fine, sanction, or even shut down platforms that don’t toe the line, the DSA is a blueprint for modern-day censorship, one that’s already beginning to claim its first high-profile victim in Durov. 

Tech bosses are increasingly finding themselves in the crosshairs of powerful states eager to bend digital platforms to their will. Just ask X owner Elon Musk, who has escaped the wrath of both Brazil and the European Union this month. 

Musk’s crime was refusing to play ball with their censorship demands. Brazil, never one to shy away from the strong-arm approach, even threatened to lock up X employees if they didn’t secretly censor users. Musk and X CEO Linda Yaccarino’s response was to shut down operations in Brazil entirely – an audacious move, but one that highlights the growing tension between tech innovators and authoritarian government actions. 

But the Durov saga takes this conflict to a new, terrifying level. While it’s not Brazil’s first rodeo – remember when they threw Facebook’s Diego Dzodan behind bars in 2016 for WhatsApp’s encryption? – Durov’s arrest marks a grim first: the CEO of a major messaging platform being jailed for refusing to censor. The message to tech leaders is crystal clear: stand up to government overreach, and you might just find yourself in a cell. 

A screenshot of a Washington Post 2016 article titled, "Senior Facebook executive arrested in Brazil after police are denied access to data."The Washington Post – 2016

A chilling effect on innovation 

Durov’s arrest is a dire warning to anyone who dares to innovate in the realm of communication. 

The chilling effect this could have on innovation cannot be overstated. Imagine the next generation of tech entrepreneurs, who might now think twice before developing a revolutionary new app or encryption tool, fearing they’ll end up like Durov. 

This crackdown could particularly cripple the burgeoning crypto industry, where privacy and decentralization are core tenets. If tech CEOs are too scared to push the boundaries of free communication, the progress in these fields could grind to a halt. The digital market would be poorer for it, as the space for free expression shrinks and the room for government surveillance expands. 

Elon Musk, never one to shy away from controversy, wasted no time showing solidarity with Durov. His “#FreePavel” post accompanied a video clip of Durov praising X for fostering innovation and freedom of expression. 

Musk’s tweet was a clear shot across the bow, aimed at governments who think they can bully tech leaders into submission. But he didn’t stop there. In a further swipe at the powers that be, Musk called out the hypocrisy surrounding Durov’s arrest by questioning why other tech leaders – looking at you, Mark Zuckerberg – haven’t faced similar legal heat. 

Musk’s point is as sharp as it is damning. Zuckerberg, the poster child for compliance, has avoided the kind of scrutiny that’s now falling on Durov. 

Musk pointed out the glaring double standard: while Durov is arrested for standing up to censorship, Zuckerberg seems to skate by, despite Instagram being plagued by a “massive child exploitation problem.” According to Musk, the difference is simple – Zuckerberg “already caved into censorship pressure” and “backdoors” making him a darling of the same governments now going after Durov. In Musk’s eyes, it’s not about justice or protecting users; it’s about punishing those who refuse to kneel. 

The future of free speech: A digital Cold War 

Durov’s arrest, coupled with Musk’s pointed critique, highlights a deepening divide in the tech world. On one side, we have leaders like Durov and Musk, who are willing to fight for digital freedom, even if it means taking on the most powerful governments in the world. On the other hand, there are those who’ve chosen to play it safe, complying with censorship demands to avoid the kind of fate that’s now befallen Durov. 

But the stakes in this digital Cold War are high. If governments succeed in making examples out of leaders like Durov, the era of free and open digital communication could be nearing its end. Innovators might retreat from building the next Telegram or X, knowing that doing so could land them in jail. 

If you needed another sign that the battle for free speech is turning into a full-blown exodus, look no further than Rumble CEO Chris Pavlovski, who has just packed his bags and left Europe after a visit. 

Pavlovski, a vocal critic of government censorship, could be staring down the barrel of the same threats that led to Durov’s detention. But unlike most tech CEOs who prefer quiet compliance to public defiance, Pavlovski is making it clear: he’s not going down without a fight. 

Rumble, a platform built on the promise of free expression, has been under fire from France for some time. The French government has been relentless in its push to censor content on the platform, leading to ongoing litigation. But Durov’s arrest has pushed Pavlovski to escalate his stance. On X, he blasted France for crossing a red line, calling Durov’s arrest a blatant violation of fundamental human rights. “Rumble will not stand for this behavior,” he declared, vowing to use every legal weapon in his arsenal to defend free speech. His message is clear: the fight for digital freedom is global, and it’s far from over. 

Pavlovski’s critique of the French government’s actions goes beyond mere rhetoric. By linking Durov’s arrest to a broader crackdown on free expression, he’s framing this as a global issue – one that tech companies can no longer afford to ignore. The implications of Durov’s arrest are chilling. It’s not just about one CEO being dragged off a plane; it’s about the growing power of governments to intrude into private communications on platforms that were once considered safe havens for free speech. 

READ: Expert: US intelligence agencies using psyops to thwart Trump, undermine democracy 

Pavlovski’s words resonate with a fundamental truth: the war on digital freedom is escalating, and it’s playing out in courtrooms and boardrooms across the world. 

The question now is how many other tech leaders will join in taking a stand. Will they rally behind Durov, Musk, Pavlovski, or will they buckle under the pressure, opting for the safety of compliance over the risk of resistance? One thing is certain: as the war on free speech heats up, the choices made by today’s tech CEOs will determine the landscape for years to come. And for those who believe in the sanctity of free expression, there’s no room left for complacency in this fight. 

Reprinted with permission from Reclaim The Net

Todayville is a digital media and technology company. We profile unique stories and events in our community. Register and promote your community event for free.

Follow Author

Business

UNDRIP now guides all B.C. laws. BC Courts set off an avalanche of investment risk

Published on

From Resource Works

Gitxaala has changed all the ground rules in British Columbia reshaping the risks around mills, mines and the North Coast transmission push.

The British Columbia Court of Appeal’s decision in Gitxaala v. British Columbia (Chief Gold Commissioner) is poised to reshape how the province approves and defends major resource projects, from mills and mines to new transmission lines.

In a split ruling on 5 December, the court held that British Columbia’s Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples Act makes consistency with the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples a question courts can answer. The majority went further, saying UNDRIP now operates as a general interpretive aid across provincial law and declaring the Mineral Tenure Act’s automatic online staking regime inconsistent with article 32(2).

University of Saskatchewan law professor Dwight Newman, who has closely followed the case, says the majority has stretched what legislators thought they were doing when they passed the statute. He argues that section 2 of British Columbia’s UNDRIP law, drafted as a purpose clause, has been turned from guidance for reading that Act into a tool for reading all provincial laws, shifting decisions that were meant for cabinet and the legislature toward the courts.

The decision lands in a province already coping with legal volatility on land rights. In August, the Cowichan Tribes title ruling raised questions about the security of fee simple ownership in parts of Richmond, with critics warning that what used to be “indefeasible” private title may now be subject to senior Aboriginal claims. Newman has called the resulting mix of political pressure, investor hesitation and homeowner anxiety a “bubbling crisis” that governments have been slow to confront.

Gitxaala’s implications reach well beyond mining. Forestry communities are absorbing another wave of closures, including the looming shutdown of West Fraser’s 100 Mile House mill amid tight fibre and softwood duties. Industry leaders have urged Ottawa to treat lumber with the same urgency as steel and energy, warning that high duties are squeezing companies and towns, while new Forests Minister Ravi Parmar promises to restore prosperity in mill communities and honour British Columbia’s commitments on UNDRIP and biodiversity, as environmental groups press the government over pellet exports and protection of old growth.

At the same time, Premier David Eby is staking his “Look West” agenda on unlocking about two hundred billion dollars in new investment by 2035, including a shift of trade toward Asia. A centrepiece is the North Coast Transmission Line, a grid expansion from Prince George to Bob Quinn Lake that the government wants to fast track to power new mines, ports, liquefied natural gas facilities and data centres. Even as Eby dismisses a proposed Alberta to tidewater oil pipeline advanced under a new Alberta memorandum as a distraction, Gitxaala means major energy corridors will also be judged against UNDRIP in court.

Supporters of the ruling say that clarity is overdue. Indigenous nations and human rights advocates who backed the appeal have long argued that governments sold UNDRIP legislation as more than symbolism, and that giving it judicial teeth will front load consultation, encourage genuine consent based agreements and reduce the risk of late stage legal battles that can derail projects after years of planning.

Critics are more cautious. They worry that open ended declarations about inconsistency with UNDRIP will invite strategic litigation, create uncertainty around existing approvals and tempt courts into policy making by another name, potentially prompting legislatures to revisit UNDRIP statutes altogether. For now, the judgment leaves British Columbia with fewer excuses: the province has built its growth plans around big, nation building projects and reconciliation framed as partnership with Indigenous nations, and Gitxaala confirms that those partnerships now have a hard legal edge that will shape the next decade of policy and investment.

Resource Works News

Continue Reading

Business

Too nice to fight, Canada’s vulnerability in the age of authoritarian coercion

Published on

Macdonald-Laurier Institute

By Stephen Nagy for Inside Policy

Beijing understands what many Canadians still resist: that our greatest national virtues, including our desire to be an “honest broker” on the world stage, have become our most exploitable weaknesses.

On December 1, 2018, RCMP officers arrested Huawei CFO Meng Wanzhou at Vancouver International Airport. As Canadians know well, within days, China seized two Canadians, Michael Kovrig and Michael Spavor, on fabricated espionage charges. For 1,019 days, they endured arbitrary detention while Canada faced an impossible choice of abandoning the rule-of-law or watching its citizens suffer in Chinese prisons.

This was hostage diplomacy. But more insidiously, it was also the opening move in a broader campaign against Canada, guided by the ancient Chinese proverb “借刀杀人” (Jiè dāo shā rén), or “Kill with a borrowed knife.” Beijing’s strategy, like the proverb, exploits others to do its bidding while remaining at arm’s length. In this case, it seeks to exploit Canadian vulnerabilities such as our resource-dependent economy, our multicultural identity, our loosely governed Arctic territories, and our naïve belief that we can balance relationships with all major powers – even when those powers are in direct conflict with one another.

With its “borrowed knife” campaign, Beijing understands what many Canadians still resist: that our greatest national virtues, including our desire to be an “honest broker” on the world stage, have become our most exploitable weaknesses.

The Weaponization of Canadian Niceness

Canadian foreign policy rests on the Pearsonian tradition. It is the belief that our lack of imperial history and (now irrelevant) middle-power status uniquely positions us as neutral mediators. We pride ourselves on sending peacekeepers, not warfighters. We build bridges through dialogue and compromise.

Beijing exploited this subjective, imagined identity. When Canada arrested Meng pursuant to our extradition treaty with the United States, Chinese state media framed it as Canada “choosing sides” and betraying its honest broker role. This narrative trapped Canadian political culture. Our mythology says we transcend conflicts through enlightened multilateralism. But the modern world increasingly demands choosing sides.

When former Prime Minister Jean Chrétien and former Ambassador John McCallum advocated releasing Meng to free the “Two Michaels,” they weren’t acting as Chinese agents. They were expressing a genuinely Canadian impulse that conflict resolves through compromise. Yet this “Canadian solution” was precisely what Beijing sought, abandoning legal principles under pressure.

China’s economic coercion has followed a similar logic. When Beijing blocked Canadian canola, pork, and beef exports – targeting worth $2.7 billion worth of Prairie agricultural products – the timing was transparently political. However, China maintained the fiction of “quality concerns,” making it extremely difficult for Canada to challenge the restrictions via the World Trade Organization. At the same time, Prairie farmers pressured Ottawa to accommodate Beijing.

The borrowed knife was Canadian democratic debate itself, turned against Canadian interests. Beijing didn’t need to directly change policy, it mobilized Canadian farmers, business lobbies, and opposition politicians to do it instead.

The Arctic: Where Mythology Meets Reality

No dimension better illustrates China’s strategy than the Arctic. Canada claims sovereignty over vast northern territories while fielding six icebreakers to Russia’s forty. We conduct summer sovereignty operations that leave territories ungoverned for nine months annually. Chinese state-owned enterprises invest in Arctic mining, Chinese research vessels map Canadian waters, and Beijing now calls itself a “near-Arctic state,” a term appearing nowhere in international law.

This campaign weaponizes the gap between Canadian mythology and capacity. When China proposes infrastructure investment, our reflex is “economic opportunity.” When Chinese researchers request Arctic access, our instinct is accommodation because we’re co-operative multilateralists. Each accommodation establishes precedent, each precedent normalizes Chinese presence, and each normalized presence constrains future Canadian options.

Climate change accelerates these dynamics. As ice melts, the Northwest Passage becomes navigable. Canada insists these are internal waters. China maintains they’re international straits allowing passage. The scenario exposes Canada’s dilemma perfectly. Does Ottawa escalate against our second-largest trading partner over waters we cannot patrol, or accept Chinese transits as fait accompli? Either choice represents failure.

The Diaspora Dilemma

Canada’s multiculturalism represents perhaps our deepest national pride. The Chinese Communist Party has systematically weaponized this openness through United Front Work Department operations, an ostensibly independent community organization that provides genuine services while advancing Beijing’s agenda including: monitoring dissidents, mobilizing Chinese-Canadians for CCP-approved candidates, organizing counter-protests against Tibetan and Uyghur activists, and creating environments where criticism of Beijing risks community ostracism and threats to relatives in China.

The establishment of illegal Chinese police stations in Toronto and Vancouver represents this operation’s logical endpoint. These “overseas service centres” conducted intimidation operations, pressured targets to return to China, and maintained surveillance on diaspora communities.

Canada’s response illuminates our vulnerability. When investigations exposed how Chinese organized crime groups, operating with apparent CCP protection, laundered billions through Vancouver real estate while financing fentanyl trafficking, initial reactions accused investigators of anti-Chinese bias. When CSIS warned that MPs might be compromised, debate focused on whether the warning represented racial profiling rather than whether compromise occurred.

Beijing engineered this trap brilliantly. Legitimate criticism of CCP operations becomes conflated with anti-Chinese racism. Our commitment to multiculturalism gets inverted into paralysis when a foreign government exploits ethnic networks for political warfare. The borrowed knife is Canadian anti-racism, wielded against Canadian sovereignty and this leaves nearly two million Chinese-Canadians under a cloud of suspicion while actual operations continue with limited interference.

What Resistance Requires

Resisting comprehensive pressure demands abandoning comfortable myths and making hard choices.

First, recognize that 21st-century middle-power independence is increasingly fictional. The global order is re-polarizing. Canada cannot maintain equidistant relationships with Washington and Beijing during strategic competition. We can trade with China, but not pretend shared rhetoric outweighs fundamental disagreements about sovereignty and human rights. The Pearsonian honest-broker role is obsolete when major powers want you to choose sides.

Second, invest in sovereignty capacity, not just claims. Sovereignty is exercised or forfeited. This requires sustained investment in military forces, intelligence services, law enforcement, and Arctic infrastructure. It means higher defence spending, more robust counterintelligence, and stricter foreign investment screening, traditionally un-Canadian approaches, which is precisely why we need them.

Third, build coalitions with countries facing similar pressures. Australia, Japan, South Korea, Lithuania, and others have faced comparable campaigns. When China simultaneously blocks Canadian canola, Australian wine, and Lithuanian dairy, that’s not separate trade disputes but a pattern requiring coordinated democratic response. The borrowed knife only works when we’re isolated.

Fourth, Ottawa must do much more to protect diaspora communities while confronting foreign operations. Effective policy must shut down United Front operations and illegal police stations while ensuring actions don’t stigmatize communities. Success requires clear communication that we’re targeting a foreign government’s operations, not an ethnic community.

Finally, we must accept the necessity of selective economic diversification. Critical infrastructure, sensitive technologies, and strategic resources cannot be integrated with an authoritarian state weaponizing interdependence. This means higher costs and reduced export opportunities – but maximum efficiency sometimes conflicts with strategic resilience. Canada can achieve this objective with a synergistic relationship with the US and other allies and partners that understand the tangential link between economic security and national security.

Conclusion

Canada’s myths, that we transcend conflicts, that multiculturalism creates only strength, that resource wealth brings pure prosperity and positivity, coupled with our deep vein of light-but-arrogant anti-Americanism, have become exploitable weaknesses. Beijing systematically tested each myth and used the gap between self-conception and reality as leverage.

The borrowed knife strategy works because we keep handing over the knife. Our openness becomes the vector for interference. Our trade dependence becomes the lever for coercion. Our niceness prevents us from recognizing we’re under attack.

Resistance doesn’t require abandoning Canadian values. It requires understanding that defending them demands costs we’ve historically refused to pay. The Chinese “Middle Kingdom” that tells the world it has had 5,000 years of peaceful history has entered a world that doesn’t reward peaceability, it exploits it. The question is whether we’ll recognize the borrowed knife for what it is and put it down before we bleed out from self-inflicted wounds.


Stephen R. Nagy is a professor of politics and international studies at the International Christian University in Tokyo and a senior fellow and China Project lead at the Macdonald-Laurier Institute (MLI). The title for his forthcoming monograph is “Japan as a Middle Power State: Navigating Ideological and Systemic Divides.”

Continue Reading

Trending

X