Adopted on May 30, 2025, Quebec’s Bill 89 amends the Labour Code to “give greater consideration to the needs of the population in the event of a strike or a lock-out,” by ensuring the continuation of “services ensuring the well-being of the population.” The Act empowers the government to designate disputes for review by the Administrative Labour Tribunal, which can order that such services be maintained and, if negotiations fail, impose conditions itself. While strikes and lock-outs may continue, they can be suspended in “exceptional circumstances.” According to Evan Fox-Decent, law professor and president of the Association of McGill Professors of Law, “this legislation represents a frontal attack on workers’ fundamental rights.” For McGill faculty unions, this bill significantly curtails the effectiveness of strikes by limiting the possible leverage of work stoppages and narrowing the scope of legitimate collective action against the administration. This bill also generates a chilling climate of deterrence, where professors, staff, and students, fearing retaliation, may refrain from publicly endorsing or joining mobilizations. Without explicit backing from faculty unions, student strikes lose a crucial source of momentum and legitimacy, weakening student solidarity actions.

In April, the pro-Palestinian student group Students for Palestinian Honour and Resistance (SPHR) organized a three-day demonstration on campus calling for McGill to cut ties with institutions and companies linked to Israel. The university responded by securing an injunction from the Quebec Superior Court judge. The ruling barred protests within five metres of McGill buildings and prohibited activities that could disrupt classes or exams. While directly aimed at weakening SPHR, the injunction sets a broader precedent as the administration can now swiftly resort to the courts to neutralize any disruptive student mobilizations. This fosters a climate of self-censorship, especially since both protesters and “any person aware of the judgment,” even if they aren’t directly related to SPHR, can risk legal consequences. The spatial restrictions also undercut the visibility and effectiveness of protests, discouraging broader participation.

In the aftermath of the April protests, McGill attempted to terminate its contractual relationship with SSMU. The Memorandum of Agreement (MoA) is the formal contract that governs the relationship between McGill University and the Students’ Society of McGill University, outlining the rights, responsibilities, and financial arrangements between the two parties.

It gives SSMU official recognition as the undergraduate student association, allowing it to collect fees, use campus space, and represent students in dealings with the administration. In return, the MoA sets out standards of accountability, compliance with university regulations, and conditions under which the agreement can be reviewed or terminated. McGill can default on the MoA if it determines that SSMU has breached its obligations, such as failing to comply with university policies or legal requirements, since the MoA gives the administration the authority to terminate or suspend the agreement on those grounds.

McGill Interim Deputy Provost Angela Campbell accused the organization’s leadership of not dissociating itself from groups that “endorse or engage in acts of vandalism, intimidation and obstruction as forms of activism.” By moving to terminate this agreement, this threatened to strip SSMU of resources essential for organizing large-scale student movements, including funding, office space, and institutional recognition.

Following a mediation process of several months, McGill and SSMU announced that the MoA will remain in effect, with revisions. The agreement removed certain restrictions on SSMU election eligibility, while also reaffirming limits on protests that involve disruption of academic activities, vandalism, or intimidation. Although this resolution preserved the student union’s legal footing, it underscores how fragile the student unions’ position remains by demonstrating McGill’s willingness to use the threat of institutional withdrawal as leverage. Even with the renewed MoA, the imposed boundaries signal that student mobilization is tolerated only within tightly controlled parameters.

In essence, these developments leave students with fewer institutional resources, greater legal risks, and diminished means of mobilizing, as they have increasingly become
vulnerable to administrative and legal suppression.

Despite these obstacles, history demonstrates that student activism adapts and survives. When direct forms of protest have been suppressed, activists turn to innovative, symbolic ways to continue resisting oppressive systems even when traditional avenues are restricted.

The 2012 Maple Spring was a series of student protests against the proposal to raise university tuition significantly. Throughout this mobilization, protesters faced restrictive legislation, including an emergency law forbidding protests near university grounds and requiring police approval for large public protests (Bill 78), while the municipality of Montreal passed a law prohibiting mask-wearing during any organization or demonstration. In response, the movement devised innovative tactics, such as the “casseroles” actions, nightly balcony protests where citizens banged pots and pans in support of the movement. What began as a creative way to work around restrictions soon spread across the province, illustrating how repressive measures can inadvertently spark innovation.

Furthermore, to ensure no single administrative decision can dissolve student mobilization, a more decentralized and diversified organization strategy is necessary. A constellation of faculty and department-level assemblies, along with alliances beyond campus, can build resilience. When student struggles are tied to a broader community and labour issues, they gain both legitimacy and power. In 2012, opposition to Bill 78 quickly escalated from a tuition protest into a province-wide movement, drawing labor unions, teachers, and even the Quebec Bar Association in protesting for civil rights. Similarly, today, multiple faculty associations at McGill are already challenging Bill 89, citing its violations of constitutional rights by forcing workers to “work against their will, under conditions that are not of their choosing,” as noted by McGill Professor of Sociology Barry Eidlin. By aligning with these efforts, students can position their struggles within a broader fight for democratic liberties and workers’ rights.

History has proven that student mobilization consistently plays a fundamental role in contributing to change. From the fight against South Africa’s apartheid, where McGill notably became the first Canadian university to divest from the National Party’s brutal regime, to more recently, to the Board of Governors’ unanimous decision to divest from fossil fuel companies after a decade of student pressure, students have time and time again demonstrated their ability to push institutions toward greater accountability. These precedents, along with current movements, suggest that while the frameworks for protest may change, mobilization at McGill can continue by embracing decentralization, creativity, and solidarity.

The post The Future of Mobilization at McGill appeared first on The McGill Daily.

In an unprecedented display of transnational solidarity, more than 150,000 people across Europe and North Africa mobilized over the past week as part of the Global March to Gaza – a multi-pronged civilian initiative calling for the release of detained humanitarian workers and the immediate delivery of critical aid to Gaza.  While mass street protests surged in cities from Paris to Athens, thousands more joined caravans and convoys aiming to reach the Rafah border crossing through Egypt and deliver aid directly to Palestinians trapped under blockade.

One key branch of this effort, the Sumud Convoy (Arabic for “steadfastness”), launched from Tunis on June 9 with over 1,000 participants from the Maghreb region. Unionists, doctors, students, and activists from Tunisia, Algeria, Libya, Mauritania, and Morocco traveled eastward by road, hoping to cross into Egypt and reach Rafah on foot. Coordinated marches from Cairo to El Arish were also planned. However,  by June 16 both routes had stalled — blocked by Libyan forces loyal to General Khalifa Haftar, who maintains close ties with Egypt and Israel and had frequently opposed pro-Palestinian mobilizations in the region – and refused entry by Egyptian authorities citing permit issues. Several marchers were arrested, over 400 were deported, and dozens remain in custody in Egypt.

Still, the broader march initiative brought together over 4,000 international activists from more than 80 countries, including healthcare workers from 54 nations and delegates from the Palestinian Youth Movement, Codepink, and Jewish Voice for Labour. Protesters have emphasized that their demands extend beyond humanitarian access — they seek political accountability for the blocaked itself. “No to the blockade, no to normalization, yes to Palestinian freedom,” declared one Tunisian organizer, echoing calls from London to Cairo.

Canadian solidarity groups have been prominently involved in the Global March to Gaza. Two days before the march’s start, on June 10, Members of Parliament from three Canadian parties stood alongside organizers from Palestine Vivra (Palestine Will Live) in a press conference hosted by Liberal MP Salma Zahid on Parliament Hill to promote the initiative. According to Palestine Vivra representatives, nearly 700 people in Canada applied to participate in the march. The Canadian contingent included medical professionals, students, and activists from across the country.  

“Liberation is good medicine,” said Dr. Yipeng Ge, an Ottawa physician who announced he would take leave from his practice to join the march. Ge said he felt compelled to do “everything possible to stop the genocide in Gaza.” The June 10 press conference also underscored growing political pressure within Canada over the Gaza crisis. That same day, Prime Minister Mark Carney’s government announced limited sanctions – travel bans and asset freezes – against two far-right Israeli ministers, Itamar Ben-Gvir and Bezaalel Smotrich. The move, which aligned with coordinated actions by the UK, Australia, New Zealand, and Norway, was hailed by Zahid as an “important first step,” though she and others urged more forceful actions.

While marchers struggled to reach Gaza by land, a parallel drama played out at sea. The March to Gaza coincided with a seaborne mission by the Freedom Flotilla Coalition (FFC) – a grassroots alliance of international civil society organizations advocating for the rights of Palestinians. The Madleen, a 18-metre sailing yacht bearing the British flag, set out from Sicily on June 1 – the latest attempt in a series of maritime efforts (2011, 2015, and 2018) to break Israel’s blockade of Gaza and deliver humanitarian aid. 

On board of the FFC were 12 passengers (11 activists and one journalist) from a dozen countries. Among them were high-profile figures like Swedish climate activist Greta Thunberg and the newly elected French MEP Rima Hassan. The volunteer crew carried a modest cargo of relief supplies – baby formula, rice, flour, diapers, water purifiers, medical kits, crutches and children’s prosthetic limbs – intended for Gaza’s beleaguered population. While limited in scale, the mission was largely symbolic, aiming to “break the siege” by delivering a “small shipment of humanitarian aid” and more importantly, to refocus global attention on Gaza’s plight. 

While the Madleen crew was unarmed and acting in full accordance with international and maritime law, Israel’s government vowed to stop the flotilla’s advancement. On June 8, Israeli Defense Minister Yoav Gallant (also cited as Israel Katz in some official statements) publicly ordered the Israel Defence Forces (IDF) to block the Madleen’s voyage. “I say clearly: Turn back because you will not reach Gaza,” Gallant warned, instructing the navy to take “whatever measures are necessary” to stop the flotilla from reaching Palestinian shores. 

In the early hours of Monday, June 9, Gallant’s orders were carried out. Around 2 a.m, approximately 185 kilometers from Gaza – Israeli naval commandos intercepted, boarded and seized the Madleen in international waters. As Israeli naval forces intercepted the Madleen, the FFC released a pre-recorded video message from Thunberg on social media – to be published if Israel raided the boat – ensuring that her plea “Stay focused on Gaza and our mission” reached the world even as she sat in detention. Israeli officials pushed back, framing the capture as a legitimate enforcement of its naval blockade. 

The Israeli Foreign Ministry confirmed that the yacht was towed to the port of Ashdod, stating that “all aboard are safe,” and undergoing medical checks in Israeli custody. On social media, however, the Ministry mocked the Madleen as a “selfie yacht of ‘celebrities’” seeking publicity. It also released photographs of the detained activists – most notably one of a smiling Greta Thunberg in a life vest receiving a sandwich from an Israeli officer – seemingly intended to counter allegations of mistreatment.

Following the seizure of the Madleen, Israeli authorities detained all 12 passengers for allegedly violating the blockade. The activists,  who hailed from Sweden, France, Spain, Brazil, Turkey, Germany, the Netherlands and Ireland,  were taken to Givon Prison in Ramla, Israel. At this prison, the detainees were quickly given a choice: sign deportation orders and waive any legal recourse, or remain in detention and face possible prosecution.

Within a day, on June 10, four activists, including Greta Thunberg, agreed to deportation and were flown out of the country. “We have been deported from Israel after being abducted in international waters,” Thunberg tweeted upon arriving in Europe, calling the experience “surreal” and urging continued attention to Gaza. By June 12, facing legal and diplomatic pressure, Israeli authorities deported six of the eight holdouts. By June 17, all 12 activists had been released and were returning to their home countries via Jordan, according to the Freedom Flotilla Coalition.Reports emerged of harsh treatment during their brief detention. According to the legal advocacy group Adalah, flotilla volunteers suffered “mistreatment, punitive measures and aggressive treatment” while behind bars, with two activists being placed in solitary confinement – Rima Hassan for writing “Free Palestine” on a cell wall, and Brazilian activist Thiago Ávila after he launched a hunger strike to protest Gaza’s starvation blockade. These accounts have further intensified scrutiny of Israel’s conduct, with United Nations officials and legal experts warning that the operation may constitute both a violation of international humanitarian and maritime law.

Israel justified the seizure by reiterating that Gaza has been under naval blockade since 2007, with unauthorized vessels barred from approaching due to security concerns. Former Israeli Navy commander Eli Marom defended the intercept as necessary, warning that letting the ship through would “undermine the blockade” and “open the door” to more blockade runners, which Israel fears could include arms shipments. 

Yet the seizure of the Madleen drew sharp criticism from international human rights groups and legal experts. In a joint statement issued on June 2, ten UN human rights experts, including nine Special Rapporteurs, had called on Israel to allow the flotilla’s safe passage – an order echoed by the International Court of Justice. According to the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), civilian vessels in international waters are protected from interference except under limited circumstances such as piracy or during armed conflict. The experts underscored that under international law, humanitarian missions, particularly those aiming to deliver essential aid to besieged civilian populations, are entitled to protection,  warning that obstructing it could constitute collective punishment. Israeli courts, however, summarily dismissed these arguments and upheld their government’s actions.

Meanwhile, governments in Sweden, Spain, Ireland, and Brazil issued diplomatic protests – including summoning Israeli ambassadors to express disapproval over the flotilla’s interception. But broader institutional responses — especially from European Union bodies and North American allies — remained largely unfounded.

Online global support surged under the trending hashtag #FreeTheMadleen. As photos of the interception spread, many criticized Israel’s attempt to portray the boat as a “selfie yacht,” calling the statement dismissive and in poor taste. Even some Israeli media outlets questioned the tone of official communications.Still, the most powerful reaction may have come from the coalition itself. The FFC announced plans to launch more missions, declaring that Israel’s actions had only strengthened their resolve. “This isn’t the end,” they said. “It’s the beginning of something much bigger.”

In Canada, the response to the Gaza crisis has been particularly intense.  In the past year, Canadians have held some of the largest pro-Palestinian demonstrations in the West, and that trend continued this month. On the evening of June 9, hundreds of Montrealers  poured into the streets less than 24 hours after the flotilla’s capture, in a spontaneous show of support for the detained activists. The crowd gathered outside of the Israeli consulate to chant “Enough is enough!” to echo a rallying cry against Israel’s ongoing bombardment of Gaza. Some protesters resurrected chants from January 2024 –“Justin, Justin, shame on you!”–echoing earlier criticism of his silence on Gaza during pro-Palestinian rallies.

Solidarity demonstrations in solidarity with the Madleen also took place in Toronto, Yellowknife, and Ottawa, where local activists and community groups rallied to demand accountability and stronger government action. These events built on momentum from the June 10 Parliament Hill press conference, signaling that the flotilla incident had reignited public outrage across the country.

As one Montreal organizer put it: “Everyone has a role to play, even if that’s as simple as being on a boat or protesting. This is just the start of what we can do when we’re organized.”

The convergence of the Global March to Gaza and the Madleen flotilla affair appears to be a watershed moment, shining a spotlight on efforts to end Gaza’s humanitarian emergency and testing the international community’s resolve. By the end of the week following the events of June 9, the marchers in Egypt were regrouping after many had been detained and deported, uncertain how close they would be allowed to get to Gaza’s restricted border. The Freedom Flotilla’s next moves were also uncertain – their boat had been impounded, but their campaign was anything but over. The coalition declared that Israel’s “piracy”  had only strengthened their determination to challenge the blockade.

For Gaza’s two million residents, these acts of solidarity have delivered a rare bit of hope. “The message of humanity reached the world,” said Madleen Kulab in response to the voyage, who is the young Gazan fisherwoman for whom the ship was named. Though the Madleen did not reach her shores, Kulab told Al Jazeera she was “deeply moved” that activists around the world would risk their own freedom for Gaza’s sake.Moving forward, the FFC says it will launch more boats to deliver aid to Gaza. On land, activists promise to keep organizing caravans and marches until the siege is broken. Whether these efforts will spur international government action remains to be seen. But for a week this June, the world’s attention was fixed on a group of ordinary people who took extraordinary steps – walking, sailing, and protesting – to demand humanitarian support  for Gaza, adding new urgency to calls for an immediate ceasefire and the lifting of Israel’s blockade.

The post From the Streets to the Sea: International Mobilizations Converge to Break the Siege on Gaza appeared first on The McGill Daily.