Independent Senators owe Canadians an explanation on residential school denialism

Philosopher Alan Watts understood something that politicians often forget: words shape reality. They are not merely tools of communication. They define what societies choose to remember, what they choose to value, and what they are willing to defend.

When the language used to describe residential schools shifts from acknowledging their harms to minimizing, distorting, or denying them altogether, it is not simply a debate about words, it is a challenge to truth itself and to the experiences of the survivors who lived it.

In public life, words become policy. They become law. They become history.

That is why the Senate's recent rejection of an amendment to Bill C-9 that would have criminalized residential school denialism deserves far greater attention than a procedural vote might otherwise receive.

The amendment, introduced by Senator Nancy Karetak-Lindell and adopted by the Senate Human Rights Committee, sought to extend hate-speech protections to include the denial, minimization, justification, or distortion of the Indian residential school system. For many Indigenous leaders, survivors, and advocates, it represented a logical extension of Canada's commitment to truth and reconciliation.

Yet, when the committee's report arrived in the Senate Chamber, a majority of Senators voted to reject it.

The debate was not framed as a rejection of reconciliation itself. Senators who opposed the amendment raised concerns about freedom of expression, legislative drafting, and constitutional considerations. Some questioned whether the Criminal Code's existing hate propaganda provisions could accommodate such an amendment without unintended consequences. Others argued that expanding criminal law required broader consultation and more careful study.

These are legitimate concerns in a democratic society. Charter rights matter. Legislative precision matters. Criminal sanctions should never be created lightly.

But so does context.

The residential school system is among the most thoroughly documented injustices in Canadian history. Survivors have spent decades fighting to have their experiences recognized. Their testimony informed the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Governments, churches, historians, academics, and courts have all acknowledged the devastating impacts of a system designed to separate Indigenous children from their families, cultures, languages, and communities.

The historical record is extensive and overwhelming.

Yet, despite this reality, residential school denialism has emerged as a growing phenomenon in Canada. Some seek to minimize the harms of the system. Others challenge survivor testimony, or suggest that the historical record remains unsettled. Still others attempt to portray established facts as matters of interpretation rather than evidence.

This is not historical inquiry. It is the deliberate distortion of history.

Canada has already recognized that denying documented atrocities can constitute a form of hate propaganda. Holocaust denial legislation was enacted because lawmakers understood that denying historical truth does more than rewrite the past. It can marginalize, dehumanize, and inflict harm upon communities that continue to live with the consequences of that history.

Many Indigenous leaders argued that residential school denialism functions in much the same way.

The Senate disagreed.

What makes this decision particularly significant is the institution that made it.

For more than a decade, Canadians have been told that the Senate has entered a new era. Independent Senators, free from party discipline, were presented as a reform that would strengthen democratic accountability. Without partisan instructions or political whips, senators would evaluate legislation on its merits and exercise independent judgment in the public interest.

That promise deserves examination.

When Members of Parliament cast votes, their decisions are often viewed through the lens of party platforms and collective political responsibility. Independent senators operate differently. Their legitimacy rests on the principle that they answer to their own judgment.

But independence does not reduce accountability.

It increases it.

If Senators are free from party direction, responsibility for their votes rests entirely with them. They cannot point to a party leader, caucus strategy, or campaign platform to explain their decisions. The vote belongs to them alone.

That reality raises important questions.

What persuaded Senators that legal protections against residential school denialism were unnecessary or premature? What evidence outweighed the testimony of survivors, Indigenous organizations, legal experts, and reconciliation advocates? How did Senators reconcile their decision with repeated commitments to advancing the Calls to Action of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission?

These are not rhetorical questions. They are questions of democratic accountability.

The Senate often operates beyond the daily scrutiny directed at the House of Commons. Senators do not face elections. Their speeches rarely dominate the news cycle. Yet, their decisions can have profound consequences, particularly on issues involving Indigenous rights, historical truth, and national reconciliation.

By rejecting the Human Rights Committee's report, the Senate removed from Bill C-9 a proposed protection against residential school denialism. What it did not remove was the underlying problem that the amendment sought to address.

Residential school denialism remains a growing concern. Indigenous leaders, scholars, survivors, and communities continue to warn about the consequences of misinformation and historical distortion. If Senators believed the amendment was flawed, Canadians have a right to know what alternative measures they support to address that reality.

Because simply voting no cannot be the end of the conversation.

The Truth and Reconciliation Commission did not ask Canadians merely to acknowledge the past. It challenged governments and institutions to defend the truth and confront the ongoing legacies of colonialism. Reconciliation is not a symbolic exercise. It requires action. It requires accountability. Above all, it requires a shared commitment to truth.

Watts believed that words matter because they shape how we understand the world around us.

The same can be said of votes.

The Senate's decision on residential school denialism will be remembered not only for its legal implications, but also for what it revealed about this country's continuing struggle to reconcile historical truth with political caution.

Independent Senators frequently remind Canadians that they are accountable to no party.

That may be true.

But they remain accountable to survivors, to Indigenous Peoples, to the public, and ultimately to history itself.

Kelly Patrick is an Ottawa-based public affairs consultant who provides strategic communications advice to Indigenous organizations, all orders of government, and community groups across Canada. She has served Liberal prime ministers, senators and premiers. She can be reached at kelly@kppublicaffairs.org. 

The Hill Times