NDP MP Leah Gazan has reintroduced a bill aimed at criminalizing what she terms "residential school denialism." Her proposal seeks to protect survivors of Canada's residential school system from skepticism and mockery regarding their experiences. The bill would amend section 319 of the Criminal Code to make it illegal to condone, deny, downplay, or justify the Indian residential school system, with a maximum penalty of two years in prison. This legislation draws parallels to laws that criminalize Holocaust denial, but the historical context surrounding residential schools is complex and ongoing.

Since 2021, when the Tk̓emlúps te Secwépemc First Nation announced findings of potential graves at the former Kamloops Indian Residential School, public opinion has been divided. Some view the findings as validation of long-silenced truths, while others urge caution, noting that no human remains have been confirmed. Ground-penetrating radar identified 215 anomalies that may indicate graves, but many Indigenous people consider excavation culturally inappropriate. Critics argue that withholding evidence can foster doubt about the historical abuses.

Supporters of Gazan's bill, including former Crown-Indigenous Relations Minister Gary Anand Anandasanaree and special interlocutor Kimberly Murray, assert that denialism constitutes psychological violence. They argue that questioning the experiences of survivors retraumatizes them and undermines national reconciliation. Murray's upcoming report recommends new civil and criminal remedies to combat denialism, and the federal government is exploring whether current hate-speech laws are adequate.

However, opponents of the bill express concern that it could lead to the jailing of individuals for their speech. Critics point to the ambiguity of terms like "downplaying" and warn that without clear definitions, enforcement could become subjective. The conservative outlet Juno News cautioned that expanding hate-speech laws to include denialism could set a dangerous precedent.

The historical context of residential schools is well-documented, with over 150,000 Indigenous children attending these institutions from the 1800s until 1996. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) documented at least 3,200 deaths, with estimates reaching as high as 6,000. The TRC labeled the system as "cultural genocide," a term that remains uncontested among serious historians. However, the question of mass graves remains unresolved, leading to public skepticism and distrust in media reporting.

Legal experts warn that criminalizing skepticism poses constitutional challenges. Section 2(b) of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms guarantees freedom of expression, which can only be limited when it incites violence or hatred against identifiable groups. Gazan's bill would extend legal repercussions to those who minimize the abuses of the residential school system, which raises concerns about prosecuting opinions rather than hate.

While the intent behind Gazan's bill is to protect survivors, critics argue that it risks equating skepticism with denialism, potentially stifling open inquiry. The debate highlights the need for a balance between protecting survivors from harm and allowing for dissenting voices. Advocates for transparency suggest that if claims about unmarked graves are made, they should be supported by verifiable evidence when possible. Journalists are urged to report findings with precision, and citizens are encouraged to approach discussions with empathy.

In conclusion, the ongoing debate over Gazan's bill reflects broader societal tensions regarding truth, grief, and dissent. While the desire to protect survivors is commendable, the challenge lies in finding a path that fosters dialogue and understanding without resorting to punitive measures. Aaron Pete, Chief of Chawathil First Nation, emphasizes that reconciliation requires confronting difficult truths with compassion and evidence, rather than legislating belief.