This article originally appeared in the National Post.
By Alan Kessel, June 9, 2026
Prime Minister Mark Carney chose an ambitious theme for his major address on antisemitism at Toronto’s Holy Blossom Temple: he spoke of covenant.
Not policy. Not politics. Covenant.
It was a thoughtful and, in many respects, moving framework. Carney argued that Canada rests upon a covenant among its citizens: a shared commitment to protect one another’s rights, dignity, and place within our national community. He said the explosion of antisemitism across Canada represents a breach.
But as I listened, I found myself thinking less about what the prime minister said and more about what this moment in Canadian history required him to say.
I heard him. I did not feel him.
For Jews, covenant is not merely a political metaphor. It is central to our identity as a people. For more than three millennia, the covenant between the Jewish people and God has defined not only our obligations, but our survival. It is the foundation of Jewish continuity, resilience and responsibility.
When Carney invoked covenant, he touched upon something profound. Yet he never fully confronted the forces that have shattered it.
The speech catalogued the manifestations of antisemitism that have become all too familiar: schools shot at, synagogues firebombed, students harassed, businesses targeted, Holocaust memorials desecrated, and Jewish Canadians increasingly fearful of displaying outward signs of their faith.
The diagnosis was accurate. The treatment was less convincing.
Most strikingly, Carney never mentioned October 7.
He never mentioned Hamas. He never mentioned the Canadians murdered during the largest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust.
That omission matters.
October 7 is not a peripheral event in this story. It is the event that transformed antisemitism from a historical concern into an immediate and daily reality for Jewish communities around the world, including in Canada.
The wave of hatred that has swept through our campuses, streets, and institutions did not emerge in a vacuum. It emerged in the aftermath of Hamas’ atrocities and the global campaign that followed to justify, rationalize or celebrate them.
One cannot fully explain the current antisemitism crisis while omitting its catalyst.
Equally troubling was the absence of any serious discussion of Islamist extremism.
Across Europe, governments are increasingly confronting this reality. They have come to recognize that modern antisemitism comes from multiple sources: the far right, the far left, and increasingly from Islamist movements that have successfully imported Middle Eastern hatreds into Western democracies.
Canada remains hesitant to have that conversation.
The prime minister’s speech reflected this. He condemned antisemitism without naming many of its principal contemporary drivers. That may be politically prudent. But prudence and leadership are not always the same.
The speech also reflected a broader weakness in Canada’s response: a long list of advisory councils, studies and institutional reviews.
All have their place. But we already know what is happening. Canada is suffering from a shortage of consequences, not analysis.
A covenant is sustained not by reports, but accountability.
Yet Jewish day schools require armed security. Synagogues operate behind barriers. Jewish students conceal their identities. Community institutions spend millions protecting themselves from threats.
At this moment, Canadians needed to hear something simpler and more direct: those who glorify terrorism, threaten citizens, or promote violence will face the full force of Canadian law.
They needed to hear that citizenship carries responsibilities as well as rights.
Indeed, the most powerful lines in the entire speech may have been these:
“We welcome the peoples of the world and their diversity in all its splendour. We do not welcome the world’s hatreds.”
There, in two sentences, was the speech that might have been.
Imagine if the prime minister had built upon that proposition, and said that multiculturalism is not a licence to import ancient grievances. That those who come to Canada are free to bring their faith, culture, language, and traditions, but not sectarian hatred.
That would have been a covenant speech.
Most importantly, he could have spoken directly to Jewish Canadians.
Not as one community among many, or a case study in diversity and inclusion. But a community confronting the most severe wave of antisemitism in modern Canadian history.
He could have said plainly:
“You are not imagining what is happening. Your fear is real. Your children should not require security guards to attend school. Your synagogues should not require police protection. Your citizenship is not conditional. Your place in Canada is not negotiable.”
Those words would have resonated far beyond the walls of Holy Blossom Temple.
To his credit, Carney acknowledged that Canada’s civic compact is failing Jewish Canadians. That admission was important.
But an inflection point in history demands more than acknowledgement. It demands moral clarity.
The prime minister offered reflection when the moment required resolve.
A covenant is not renewed through words alone. It is renewed when citizens know that their government is prepared to defend it.
That is the challenge before Canada today.
Alan Kessel is a former assistant deputy minister and legal adviser to the Government of Canada and a former deputy high commissioner of Canada to the United Kingdom. He is a senior fellow at the Macdonald-Laurier Institute.
