The following is a transcript of remarks make by Prime Minister Justin Trudeau in the House of Commons on Nov. 7.
On May 15, 1939, more than 900 German Jews boarded an ocean liner known as the St. Louis.
The passengers had been stripped of their possessions, chased out of their homes, forced out of their schools and banned from their professions by their own government.
Their synagogues had been burnt.
Their stores raided.
Their clothing scarred with yellow stars, they had been forced to add “Israel” or “Sarah” to the names they had known their whole lives. Women and men who had once contributed so much to their country had been labelled as aliens, traitors and enemies – and treated as such.
Persecuted, robbed, jailed and killed because of who they were.
Nazi Germany had denied them their citizenship and their fundamental rights.
And yet, when the St. Louis set sail from Hamburg that fateful Monday, the more than 900 stateless passengers onboard considered themselves lucky.
Lucky because they each carried on board an entrance visa to Cuba, a rare chance to escape the tyranny of the Nazi regime under Adolf Hitler.
But by the time the ship docked in Havana Harbour, things would take a turn for the worse.
The Cuban government refused to recognize their entrance visas and only a few passengers were allowed to disembark.
Even after men, women and children threatened mass suicide, entry was denied. And so continued their long and tragic quest for safety. They would request asylum from Argentina, Uruguay, Paraguay and Panama.
Each said no.
On June 2, the MS St. Louis was forced to leave Havana with no guarantee that they would be welcomed elsewhere.
And after the Americans had denied their appeals, they sought refuge in Canada.
But the Liberal government of Mackenzie King was unmoved by the plight of these refugees.
Despite the desperate plea of the Canadian Jewish community, despite the repeated calls by the government’s two Jewish caucus members, despite the many letters from concerned Canadians of different faiths, the government chose to turn its back on these innocent victims of Hitler’s regime.
At the time, Canada was home to just 11-million people, of whom only 160,000 were Jews.
Not a single Jewish refugee was to set foot – let alone settle – on Canadian soil.
The MS St. Louis and its passengers had no choice but to return to Europe, where the United Kingdom, Belgium, France and Holland agreed to take in the refugees.
And then when the Nazis conquered Belgium, France and Holland, many of them would be murdered in the gruesome camps and gas chambers of the Third Reich.
The story of the St. Louis and its passengers is no isolated incident.
The government of Canada was indifferent to the suffering of Jews long before the St. Louis ever set sail for Halifax, and sadly, long after it had returned to Europe.
These refugees would have made this country stronger, and its people proud.
But the government went to great lengths to ensure that their appeals went nowhere.
That their cries for help were left unanswered, for Canada deemed them unworthy of a home, and undeserving of our help.
By 1938, the world was wrestling with a growing refugee crisis.
When leaders of all nations convened in Evian to discuss the future of Jews in Europe, no country stepped forward to drastically increase its quotas.
Jews were viewed as a threat to be avoided, rather than the victims of a humanitarian crisis.
When Canadian lawmakers returned from Evian, they used their power to further tighten rules around Jewish immigration, legitimizing the anti-Semitic sentiment taking hold at home and abroad.
Bitter resentment towards Jews was enshrined in our policies – the same policies immigration officials would later use to justify their callous response to the St. Louis and its passengers.
Of all the allied countries, Canada would admit the fewest Jews between 1933 and 1945. Far fewer than the United Kingdom and significantly less per capita than the United States.
And of those it let in, as many as 7,000 of them were labelled as prisoners of war and unjustly imprisoned alongside Nazis.
As far as Jews were concerned, none was too many.
In the years leading up to the war, Hitler tested the world’s resolve.
He noted carefully as country after country proved itself indifferent to the plight of Jewish refugees.
He watched on as we refused their visas, ignored their letters and denied them entry.
With every decree, he challenged the political courage of our leaders and the empathy of those who elected them.
With every pogrom, he tested the bounds of our humanity and the limits of our solidarity.
Adolf Hitler’s test was one the Canadian government failed miserably.
This week marks the 80th anniversary of Kristallnacht, a sombre turning point in Hitler’s racial policy and the beginning of the Holocaust.
Kristallnacht happened on the heels of that Evian conference, where the world cemented its indifference and antipathy towards Jews.
There is little doubt that our silence permitted the Nazis to come up with their own “final solution” to the so-called Jewish problem.
It would take another three years for Canada to open its doors.
Three years before we would take in Jewish refugees at the same rate as we did non-Jewish German nationals at the end of the War.
It would take new leadership, a new world order and the creation of the State of Israel, a homeland for the Jewish people, for Canada to amend its laws and begin to dismantle the policies that had legitimized and propagated anti-Semitism.
Adolf Hitler alone did not seal the fate of the St. Louis passengers or the Jews of Europe.
To harbour such hatred and indifference towards the refugees was to share in the moral responsibility for their deaths.
And while decades have passed since we turned our backs on Jewish refugees, time has by no means absolved Canada of its guilt or lessened the weight of its shame.
Today, I rise in this House to issue a long overdue apology to the Jewish refugees Canada turned away.
We apologize to the 907 German Jews aboard the MS. St. Louis, as well as their families.
We also apologize to others who paid the price of our inaction, whom we doomed to the ultimate horror of the death camps.
We used our laws to mask our anti-Semitism, our antipathy and our resentment.
We are sorry for the callousness of Canada’s response. And we are sorry for not apologizing sooner.
We apologize to the mothers and fathers whose children we did not save, to the daughters and sons whose parents we did not help; to the imprisoned Jewish refugees who were forced to relive their trauma next to their tormentors; to the scientists, artists, engineers, lawyers, businessmen, nurses, doctors, mathematicians, pharmacists, poets and students; to every Jew who sought safe haven in Canada, who stood in lines for hours and wrote countless letters.
We refused to help them when we could have. We contributed to sealing the cruel fates of far too many at places like Auschwitz, Treblinka and Belzec.
We failed them. And for that, we are sorry.
And finally, we apologize to the members of Canada’s Jewish community whose voices were ignored, whose calls went unanswered.
We were quick to forget the many ways in which they had helped build this country since its inception.
Quick to forget that they were our friends and neighbours.
That they had educated our youth, cared for our sick and clothed our poor.
Instead, we let anti-Semitism take hold in our communities and become our official policy.
We did not hesitate to circumvent their participation, limit their opportunities and discredit their talent.
They were meant to feel like strangers in their own homes, aliens in their own land.
We let anti-Semitism take hold in our communities and become our official policy.
We denied them the respect every Canadian, every human being – regardless of origin, regardless of faith – is owed by their government and their fellow citizens.
When Canada turned its back on the Jews of Europe, we turned our backs on Jewish Canadians, as well.
It was unacceptable then, and it is unacceptable now.
Your country failed you, and for that, we are sorry.
These Jewish men and women took part in social struggles for fairness, justice and human rights.
At home, they furthered the great Canadian causes that shaped this country – causes that benefited all Canadians.
Abroad, they fought for democracy and the rule of law, for equality and liberty.
The scope of their impact should not only be recognized, but celebrated.
They were scientists and activists, ministers and singers, physicists and philanthropists.
They were and continue to be proudly Jewish – and proudly Canadian.
They helped open up Canada’s eyes and ears to the plight of the most vulnerable.
Your country failed you, and for that, we are sorry.
They taught us tikun olam – our responsibility to heal the world.
As we stand here today, we are reminded of not only how far we’ve come, but how far we still have to go.
During this Holocaust Education Week, it is all the more impossible to ignore the challenges and injustices still facing Jews in this country.
According to the most recent figures, 17 per cent of all hate crimes in Canada target Jewish people – far higher per capita than any other group.
Holocaust deniers still exist. Anti-Semitism is still far too present.
Jewish institutions and neighbourhoods are still being vandalized with swastikas.
Jewish students still feel unwelcome and uncomfortable on some of our college and university campuses because of BDS-related intimidation.
And out of our entire community of nations, it is Israel whose right to exist is most widely – and wrongly – questioned.
Discrimination and violence against Jewish people in Canada and around the world continues at an alarming rate.
Less than two weeks ago, not too far from here, a gunman opened fire on worshippers at the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh, killing 11 people and wounding six others.
Among those wounded were four police officers who had arrived at the scene to defend the congregants.
These worshippers were gathered in peace to practice their faith.
Canada and all Canadians must stand up against xenophobic and anti-Semitic attitudes that still exist in our communities.
They were murdered in their sanctuary. On Shabbat. Because they were Jews.
This was a heinous anti-Semitic act of violence, motivated by hate, designed to inflict pain and stoke fear in the Jewish community.
Canadians were horrified by this vicious attack on the Jewish community and its values.
Across Canada, people organized vigils in honour of the victims.
They stood in solidarity with their Jewish brothers and sisters, and echoed a sentiment shared from coast to coast to coast: that anti-Semitism and all forms of xenophobia have no place in this country, or anywhere in this world.
Canada and Canadians will continue to stand with the Jewish community and call out the hatred that incited such despicable acts.
These tragic events ultimately attest to the work we still have to do.
Work that begins with education, which is our most powerful tool against the ignorance and cruelty that fuelled the Holocaust.
Because sadly, these evils did not end with the Second World War.
Canada and all Canadians must stand up against xenophobic and anti-Semitic attitudes that still exist in our communities, in our schools and in our places of work.
We must guard our communities and institutions against the kinds of evils that took hold in the hearts of so many, more than 70 years ago, for they did not end with the war.
Following the recent horrific attack in Pittsburgh, Jewish Canadians are understandably feeling vulnerable.
Anti-Semitism is still far too present.
We know that here in Canada we are not immune to hate crimes grounded in anti-Semitism.
Our government, and members of Parliament, is working with the Jewish community to better protect their communities against the threat of anti-Semitism.
Places of worship are sacred, and they should be sanctuaries for all faith communities.
There have been clear calls to do more through the Security Infrastructure Program to protect synagogues and other places that are at risk of hate-motivated crimes.
And I pledge to you now: we will do more.
As we stand here today, we must commit ourselves not just to remember, but to act on this tragic history, so that our children and grandchildren flourish in a world in which they are never questioned or attacked because of their identity.
Sadly, this is not yet that world.
Too many people – of all faiths, from all countries – face persecution.
Their lives are threatened simply because of how they pray, what they wear or the last name they bear.
They are forced to flee their homes and embark upon perilous journeys in search of safety and a future.
This is the world we all live in and this is therefore our collective responsibility.
It is my sincere hope that by issuing this long overdue apology, we can shine a light on this painful chapter of our history and ensure that its lessons are never forgotten.
What we can hardly imagine, the passengers of the MS St. Louis, the victims of the Holocaust and their descendants will never forget.
And while no words will ever erase their pain, it is our sincere hope that this apology will help them heal.
That it will bring them some peace.
That it will cement Canada’s unwavering commitment to stand with the Jewish community here and around the world in the fight against anti-Semitism.
More than 70 years ago, Canada turned its back on you.
But today, Canadians pledge, now and forever, never again.
Read The CJN’s full coverage of the St. Louis apology.
