Michael Ma has recently attended events with Chinese consulate officials, leaders of a group called CTCCO, and the Toronto “Hongmen,” where diaspora community leaders and Chinese diplomats advocated Beijing’s push to subordinate Taiwan. These same entities have also appeared alongside Canadian politicians at a “Nanjing” memorial in Toronto.

By Garry Clement

Michael Ma’s meeting with consulate-linked officials proves no wrongdoing—but, Garry Clement writes, the timing and optics highlight vulnerabilities Canada still refuses to treat as a security issue.

I spent years in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police learning a simple rule. You assess risk based on capability, intent, and opportunity — not on hope or assumptions. When those three factors align, ignoring them is negligence.

That framework applies directly to Canada’s relationship with the People’s Republic of China — and to recent political events that deserve far more scrutiny than they have received.

Michael Ma’s crossover to the Liberal Party may be completely legitimate, although numerous observers have noted oddities in the timing, messaging, and execution surrounding Ma’s move, which brings Mark Carney within one seat of majority rule.

There is no evidence of wrongdoing.

But from a law enforcement and national security perspective, that is beside the point. Counterintelligence is not about proving guilt after the fact; it is about identifying vulnerabilities before damage is done — and about recognizing when a situation creates avoidable exposure in a known threat environment.

A constellation of ties and public appearances — reported by The Bureau and the National Post — has fueled questions about Ma’s China-facing judgment and vetting. Those reports describe his engagement with a Chinese-Canadian Conservative network that intervened in party leadership politics by urging Erin O’Toole to resign for his “anti-China” stance after 2021 and later calling for Pierre Poilievre’s ouster — while advancing Beijing-aligned framing on key Canada–China disputes.

The National Post has also reported that critics point to Ma’s pro-Beijing community endorsement during his campaign, and his appearance at a Toronto dinner for the Chinese Freemasons — where consular officials used the forum to promote Beijing’s “reunification” agenda for Taiwan. Ma reportedly offered greetings and praised the organization, but did not indicate support for annexation.

Open-source records also show that the same Toronto Chinese Freemasons and leaders Ma has met from a group called CTCCO sponsored and supported Ontario’s “Nanjing Massacre Commemorative Day” initiative (Bill 79) — a campaign celebrated in Chinese state and Party-aligned media, alongside public praise from PRC consular officials in Canada.

China Daily reported in 2018 that the Nanjing memorial was jointly sponsored by CTCCO and the Chinese Freemasons of Canada (Toronto), supported by more than $180,000 in community donations.

Photos show that PRC consular officials and Toronto politicians appeared at related Nanjing memorial ceremonies, including Zhao Wei, the alleged undercover Chinese intelligence agent later expelled from Canada after The Globe and Mail exposed Zhao’s alleged targeting of Conservative MP Michael Chong and his family in Hong Kong.

The fact that Michael Ma recently met with some of the controversial pro-Beijing community figures and organizations described above — including leaders from the Hongmen ecosystem and the CTCCO — does not prove any nefarious intent in either his Conservative candidacy or his decision to cross the floor to Mark Carney.

But it does demonstrate something Ottawa keeps avoiding: the PRC’s influence work is often conducted in plain sight, through community-facing institutions, elite access, and “normal” relationship networks — the very channels that create leverage, deniability, and political pressure over time.

Canada’s intelligence community has been clear.

The Canadian Security Intelligence Service has repeatedly identified the People’s Republic of China as the most active and persistent foreign interference threat facing Canada. These warnings are not abstract. They are rooted in investigations, human intelligence, and allied reporting shared across the Five Eyes intelligence alliance.

At the center of Beijing’s approach is the United Front Work Department — a Chinese Communist Party entity tasked with influencing foreign political systems, cultivating elites, and shaping narratives abroad. In policing terms, it functions as an influence and access network: operating legally where possible, covertly where necessary, and always in service of the Party’s strategic objectives.

What differentiates the People’s Republic of China from most foreign actors is legal compulsion.

Under China’s National Intelligence Law, Chinese citizens and organizations can be compelled to support state intelligence work and to keep that cooperation secret. In practical terms, that creates an inherent vulnerability for democratic societies: coercive leverage — applied through family, travel, business interests, community pressure, and fear.

This does not mean Chinese-Canadians are suspect.

Quite the opposite — many are targets of intimidation themselves. But it does mean the Chinese Communist Party has a mechanism to exert pressure in ways democratic states do not. Ignoring that fact is not tolerance; it is a failure to understand the threat environment.

In the RCMP, we were trained to recognize that foreign interference rarely announces itself. It operates through relationships, access, favors, timing, and silence. It does not require ideological agreement — only opportunity and leverage.

That is why transparency matters. When political figures engage with representatives of an authoritarian state known for interference operations, the burden is not on the public to “prove” concern is justified. The burden is on officials to explain why there is none — and to demonstrate that basic safeguards are in place.

Canada’s allies have already internalized this reality. Australia, the United States, and the United Kingdom have all publicly acknowledged and legislated against People’s Republic of China political interference. Their assessments mirror ours. Their conclusions are the same.

In the United States, the Linda Sun case — covered by The Bureau — illustrates, in the U.S. government’s telling, how United Front–style influence can be both deniable and effective: built through diaspora-facing proxies, insider access, and relationship networks that rarely look like classic espionage until the damage is done.

And this is not a niche concern.

Think tanks in both the United States and Canada — as well as allied research communities in the United Kingdom and Europe — have documented the scale and persistence of these political-influence ecosystems. Nicholas Eftimiades, an associate professor at Penn State and a former senior National Security Agency analyst, has estimated multiple hundreds of such entities are active in the United States. How many operate in Canada is the question Ottawa still refuses to treat with urgency — and, if an upcoming U.S. report is any indication, the answer may be staggering.

Canada’s hesitation to address United Front networks is not due to lack of information. It is due to lack of resolve.

From a law enforcement perspective, this is troubling. You do not wait for a successful compromise before tightening security. You act when the indicators are present — especially when your own intelligence agencies are sounding the alarm.

National security is not ideological. It is practical.

By Stephen Nagy for Inside Policy

Beijing understands what many Canadians still resist: that our greatest national virtues, including our desire to be an “honest broker” on the world stage, have become our most exploitable weaknesses.

On December 1, 2018, RCMP officers arrested Huawei CFO Meng Wanzhou at Vancouver International Airport. As Canadians know well, within days, China seized two Canadians, Michael Kovrig and Michael Spavor, on fabricated espionage charges. For 1,019 days, they endured arbitrary detention while Canada faced an impossible choice of abandoning the rule-of-law or watching its citizens suffer in Chinese prisons.

This was hostage diplomacy. But more insidiously, it was also the opening move in a broader campaign against Canada, guided by the ancient Chinese proverb “借刀杀人” (Jiè dāo shā rén), or “Kill with a borrowed knife.” Beijing’s strategy, like the proverb, exploits others to do its bidding while remaining at arm’s length. In this case, it seeks to exploit Canadian vulnerabilities such as our resource-dependent economy, our multicultural identity, our loosely governed Arctic territories, and our naïve belief that we can balance relationships with all major powers – even when those powers are in direct conflict with one another.

With its “borrowed knife” campaign, Beijing understands what many Canadians still resist: that our greatest national virtues, including our desire to be an “honest broker” on the world stage, have become our most exploitable weaknesses.

The Weaponization of Canadian Niceness

Canadian foreign policy rests on the Pearsonian tradition. It is the belief that our lack of imperial history and (now irrelevant) middle-power status uniquely positions us as neutral mediators. We pride ourselves on sending peacekeepers, not warfighters. We build bridges through dialogue and compromise.

Beijing exploited this subjective, imagined identity. When Canada arrested Meng pursuant to our extradition treaty with the United States, Chinese state media framed it as Canada “choosing sides” and betraying its honest broker role. This narrative trapped Canadian political culture. Our mythology says we transcend conflicts through enlightened multilateralism. But the modern world increasingly demands choosing sides.

When former Prime Minister Jean Chrétien and former Ambassador John McCallum advocated releasing Meng to free the “Two Michaels,” they weren’t acting as Chinese agents. They were expressing a genuinely Canadian impulse that conflict resolves through compromise. Yet this “Canadian solution” was precisely what Beijing sought, abandoning legal principles under pressure.

China’s economic coercion has followed a similar logic. When Beijing blocked Canadian canola, pork, and beef exports – targeting worth $2.7 billion worth of Prairie agricultural products – the timing was transparently political. However, China maintained the fiction of “quality concerns,” making it extremely difficult for Canada to challenge the restrictions via the World Trade Organization. At the same time, Prairie farmers pressured Ottawa to accommodate Beijing.

The borrowed knife was Canadian democratic debate itself, turned against Canadian interests. Beijing didn’t need to directly change policy, it mobilized Canadian farmers, business lobbies, and opposition politicians to do it instead.

The Arctic: Where Mythology Meets Reality

No dimension better illustrates China’s strategy than the Arctic. Canada claims sovereignty over vast northern territories while fielding six icebreakers to Russia’s forty. We conduct summer sovereignty operations that leave territories ungoverned for nine months annually. Chinese state-owned enterprises invest in Arctic mining, Chinese research vessels map Canadian waters, and Beijing now calls itself a “near-Arctic state,” a term appearing nowhere in international law.

This campaign weaponizes the gap between Canadian mythology and capacity. When China proposes infrastructure investment, our reflex is “economic opportunity.” When Chinese researchers request Arctic access, our instinct is accommodation because we’re co-operative multilateralists. Each accommodation establishes precedent, each precedent normalizes Chinese presence, and each normalized presence constrains future Canadian options.

Climate change accelerates these dynamics. As ice melts, the Northwest Passage becomes navigable. Canada insists these are internal waters. China maintains they’re international straits allowing passage. The scenario exposes Canada’s dilemma perfectly. Does Ottawa escalate against our second-largest trading partner over waters we cannot patrol, or accept Chinese transits as fait accompli? Either choice represents failure.

The Diaspora Dilemma

Canada’s multiculturalism represents perhaps our deepest national pride. The Chinese Communist Party has systematically weaponized this openness through United Front Work Department operations, an ostensibly independent community organization that provides genuine services while advancing Beijing’s agenda including: monitoring dissidents, mobilizing Chinese-Canadians for CCP-approved candidates, organizing counter-protests against Tibetan and Uyghur activists, and creating environments where criticism of Beijing risks community ostracism and threats to relatives in China.

The establishment of illegal Chinese police stations in Toronto and Vancouver represents this operation’s logical endpoint. These “overseas service centres” conducted intimidation operations, pressured targets to return to China, and maintained surveillance on diaspora communities.

Canada’s response illuminates our vulnerability. When investigations exposed how Chinese organized crime groups, operating with apparent CCP protection, laundered billions through Vancouver real estate while financing fentanyl trafficking, initial reactions accused investigators of anti-Chinese bias. When CSIS warned that MPs might be compromised, debate focused on whether the warning represented racial profiling rather than whether compromise occurred.

Beijing engineered this trap brilliantly. Legitimate criticism of CCP operations becomes conflated with anti-Chinese racism. Our commitment to multiculturalism gets inverted into paralysis when a foreign government exploits ethnic networks for political warfare. The borrowed knife is Canadian anti-racism, wielded against Canadian sovereignty and this leaves nearly two million Chinese-Canadians under a cloud of suspicion while actual operations continue with limited interference.

What Resistance Requires

Resisting comprehensive pressure demands abandoning comfortable myths and making hard choices.

First, recognize that 21st-century middle-power independence is increasingly fictional. The global order is re-polarizing. Canada cannot maintain equidistant relationships with Washington and Beijing during strategic competition. We can trade with China, but not pretend shared rhetoric outweighs fundamental disagreements about sovereignty and human rights. The Pearsonian honest-broker role is obsolete when major powers want you to choose sides.

Second, invest in sovereignty capacity, not just claims. Sovereignty is exercised or forfeited. This requires sustained investment in military forces, intelligence services, law enforcement, and Arctic infrastructure. It means higher defence spending, more robust counterintelligence, and stricter foreign investment screening, traditionally un-Canadian approaches, which is precisely why we need them.

Third, build coalitions with countries facing similar pressures. Australia, Japan, South Korea, Lithuania, and others have faced comparable campaigns. When China simultaneously blocks Canadian canola, Australian wine, and Lithuanian dairy, that’s not separate trade disputes but a pattern requiring coordinated democratic response. The borrowed knife only works when we’re isolated.

Fourth, Ottawa must do much more to protect diaspora communities while confronting foreign operations. Effective policy must shut down United Front operations and illegal police stations while ensuring actions don’t stigmatize communities. Success requires clear communication that we’re targeting a foreign government’s operations, not an ethnic community.

Finally, we must accept the necessity of selective economic diversification. Critical infrastructure, sensitive technologies, and strategic resources cannot be integrated with an authoritarian state weaponizing interdependence. This means higher costs and reduced export opportunities – but maximum efficiency sometimes conflicts with strategic resilience. Canada can achieve this objective with a synergistic relationship with the US and other allies and partners that understand the tangential link between economic security and national security.

Conclusion

Canada’s myths, that we transcend conflicts, that multiculturalism creates only strength, that resource wealth brings pure prosperity and positivity, coupled with our deep vein of light-but-arrogant anti-Americanism, have become exploitable weaknesses. Beijing systematically tested each myth and used the gap between self-conception and reality as leverage.

The borrowed knife strategy works because we keep handing over the knife. Our openness becomes the vector for interference. Our trade dependence becomes the lever for coercion. Our niceness prevents us from recognizing we’re under attack.

Resistance doesn’t require abandoning Canadian values. It requires understanding that defending them demands costs we’ve historically refused to pay. The Chinese “Middle Kingdom” that tells the world it has had 5,000 years of peaceful history has entered a world that doesn’t reward peaceability, it exploits it. The question is whether we’ll recognize the borrowed knife for what it is and put it down before we bleed out from self-inflicted wounds.

Stephen R. Nagy is a professor of politics and international studies at the International Christian University in Tokyo and a senior fellow and China Project lead at the Macdonald-Laurier Institute (MLI). The title for his forthcoming monograph is “Japan as a Middle Power State: Navigating Ideological and Systemic Divides.”