Speaking at a synagogue in Toronto, Carney said antisemitism had reached levels not seen in the post-war era. Government data showed that about 70 percent of religion-based hate crimes reported in 2024 targeted the Jewish community, despite Jews accounting for roughly 1 percent of Canada’s population.

The new Ministerial Advisory Council on Rights, Equality, and Inclusion will examine the causes of antisemitism, improve hate-crime data collection and assess the effectiveness of government programs aimed at prevention and community safety.

Carney also highlighted recent funding for security at religious institutions and legislation designed to strengthen protections for places of worship, schools and community centers.

Writer Jasper Peach says the concept of body neutrality provided a framework for challenging decades of shame and social judgment linked to body size, offering an alternative to both traditional weight-focused narratives and the more recent body positivity movement.

Writing about personal experiences spanning childhood to parenthood, Peach described growing up in an environment where body size was frequently treated as a measure of social value. Born in 1981, Peach recalled that being a large baby was initially viewed positively but said attitudes changed as childhood progressed.

According to the author, comments from peers and adults conveyed the message that larger bodies occupied a lower position in social hierarchies.One childhood incident remained particularly significant. At the age of seven, Peach asked to join a skipping game after helping turn the rope for other children.

Another child responded that participation was not possible because Peach was “too fat to skip.” The episode, Peach wrote, reflected broader social attitudes that children absorb from adults and reproduce among their peers.The author argued that these experiences were not isolated. Peach said classmates appeared to learn from adults which physical characteristics were acceptable and which were not.

Even family conversations reinforced those messages. Peach recalled a discussion with a parent who warned that body size could negatively affect personal relationships, employment prospects and social trust. While the statement was intended as guidance, Peach said it reflected assumptions that had already become familiar.As a result, Peach developed strategies aimed at offsetting negative perceptions.

Academic achievement and humor became tools for social acceptance. The author described growing up during a period shaped by influential diet programs, exercise trends and narrow beauty standards. During that era, expectations around appearance often differed by gender and were frequently contradictory, with ideals presented as both highly specific and difficult to attain.

Peach also referred to the widespread use of body mass index, or BMI, as a benchmark for assessing weight and health. The author characterized the metric as flawed and criticized its historical use in discussions of body size and personal worth. More broadly, Peach argued that appearance was often framed as evidence of individual discipline or failure, reinforcing feelings of inadequacy among those who did not conform to prevailing standards.

By adulthood, Peach said those experiences had accumulated into a longstanding sense of stigma. The emergence of the body positivity movement in mainstream culture during the 2010s therefore represented a significant shift. Although the broader fat acceptance movement had existed for decades, Peach said body positivity brought discussions about body diversity to a wider audience.

According to the author, body positivity challenged assumptions that people should be judged according to size, appearance, ability or skin tone. For individuals who had spent years encountering criticism or exclusion, the movement offered an alternative framework that emphasized respect and acceptance. Peach described this period as a relief from earlier experiences in which larger bodies were routinely treated as evidence of personal failure.

However, Peach argued that the movement changed as commercial interests adopted its language and imagery. The author contended that advertising campaigns increasingly incorporated body-positive messaging while continuing to favor conventionally attractive and heavily edited representations. In that process, Peach said, some of the people whose experiences had initially driven the movement became less visible.

It was against that backdrop that Peach encountered body neutrality, a concept that places less emphasis on appearance altogether. Rather than encouraging people to love every aspect of their bodies, body neutrality focuses on describing the body without attaching moral judgments or value assessments.Peach summarized the approach through straightforward observation.

Saying that a body is fat, the author argued, is no different from describing grass as green or a disco ball as shiny. Such descriptions identify characteristics without assigning positive or negative meaning. Under this framework, body size becomes a fact rather than a reflection of character.

The author compared the concept to responding to cold weather. A person who feels cold and puts on a jumper is generally not praised or criticized for doing so. The action addresses a practical need rather than carrying moral significance. Peach said body neutrality applies the same logic to discussions of size, food and physical comfort.

This perspective also aligned with Peach’s experience as an autistic person. The author said literal interpretations of language made it easier to adopt an approach grounded in observable facts rather than social assumptions. Looking back, Peach concluded that many negative judgments directed at larger bodies were rooted in cultural beliefs rather than objective truths.

The shift in thinking later informed a children’s book focused on body neutrality. During the writing process, Peach consulted several people, including scientist and author Emma Beckett. According to Peach, Beckett described how siblings raised in the same household, with comparable diets and levels of physical activity, developed different body shapes and sizes.

Peach said those discussions reinforced the understanding that body size is influenced by multiple factors. Genetics, environment and economic circumstances all play a role, making simplistic explanations based solely on willpower inadequate. The author argued that reducing body size to personal self-control overlooks the complexity of human development and health.

Those ideas have also influenced parenting practices within Peach’s household. The author said conversations with children aim to use neutral language rather than either overt praise or shame related to physical appearance. Bodies are described in the same manner as other observable features in everyday life.

Peach provided an example involving a discussion with a nine-year-old child who asked whether bodies change and become larger as people grow older. In response, Peach explained that bodies develop according to their own patterns and that human wellbeing is shaped by a range of influences, including feelings of safety and happiness alongside nutrition and movement.

The author described a later interaction in which the child commented affectionately on Peach’s upper arms, describing them as comfortable for cuddling. What stood out to Peach was the absence of judgment. The observation was presented simply as a statement about comfort and connection rather than appearance.

For Peach, that exchange illustrated the possibility of approaching bodies without attaching assumptions about virtue, discipline or worth. The author argued that exposure to body neutrality during childhood could have reduced years of self-criticism and helped challenge the belief that body size reflects personal weakness or failure.

Reflecting on experiences across several decades, Peach said body neutrality offered a way to separate physical characteristics from moral evaluation. Rather than requiring admiration or condemnation, the approach treats bodies as realities to be acknowledged, understood and accommodated within everyday life.

A London-based performer known by the stage persona Midgitte Bardot is using drag, writing and live performance to examine social attitudes toward dwarfism, gender identity and public scrutiny, drawing on personal experience to inform their work on prominent cultural stages.

The artist, who identifies as a non-binary trans drag performer with dwarfism, has gained recognition for combining provocative performance with autobiographical storytelling.

Appearing in fishnets and theatrical costume as Midgitte Bardot, they have developed a reputation for performances that challenge audience expectations and address issues of identity, representation and social perception.

Their work gained wider attention through participation in Sound of the Underground, a queer cabaret revue created by Travis Alabanza. In one performance, the artist delivered a blues-rock number while elevated on stage equipment, incorporating visual and thematic elements that drew a strong audience response at the Royal Court Theatre.

The performer has since returned to the stage with a new production, Shooting From Below, presented at the Southbank Centre. The show marks their first major appearance following spinal surgery undertaken after a condition that risked paralysis.

According to the performer, spinal complications are relatively common among individuals with dwarfism, and their own condition involves curvature in the lower spine.

The production centres on a fictional narrative in which the stage character addresses an audience directly, framing the performance around themes of historical marginalisation and contemporary objectification.

The performer cites examples, including accounts of individuals with dwarfism being treated as novelty figures in social settings, to illustrate ongoing patterns of exclusion and commodification.In interviews, the artist has described frequent public interactions that they say reflect intrusive curiosity and harassment.

They report being stared at, filmed without consent and subjected to personal questions in public spaces, including inquiries about their body, family background and personal relationships. Such encounters, they say, occur regularly in everyday settings such as streets and public transport.

The performer notes that these experiences have shaped both their artistic direction and personal outlook. While they emphasise that such behaviour does not represent the majority of interactions, they argue that it reflects broader social attitudes toward visible difference.

They also describe concerns about being followed after initiating casual conversations in public, which they say has influenced how they navigate social situations.Their work engages with historical representations of dwarfism in entertainment, which they describe as marked by exploitation and limited roles.

They reference examples from film and popular culture in which individuals with dwarfism have been depicted as symbolic or comedic figures, often reinforcing stereotypes. According to the performer, opportunities in the arts sector can be accessible but frequently involve forms of representation that they consider reductive.

The performer also references historical accounts, including the case of a family of performers with dwarfism who survived detention during the Holocaust after being selected for medical experimentation by Nazi physician Joseph Mengele.

They cite this example to illustrate what they describe as a contradictory dynamic in which individuals with dwarfism have been both marginalised and subjected to intense scrutiny.Midgitte Bardot, as a stage persona, is intended to challenge these dynamics by reclaiming language and reframing identity through performance.

The artist says the name deliberately references a historically derogatory term, recontextualised to assert control over its meaning. Through humour and narrative, the performances incorporate personal experiences, including instances of rejection and discrimination, into structured theatrical material.

The artist describes their approach as rooted in self-acceptance and visibility. They say their earlier life was shaped by attempts to conform, but that their current work reflects a conscious decision to foreground difference as a central element of their identity.

They also link this perspective to their understanding of gender, noting that their experiences have informed their identification as non-binary.Born in Gloucester and raised in Cheltenham, the performer recalls early experiences of being perceived as different from peers, which led them to begin writing at a young age.

They continued to develop this practice academically, studying creative writing at Liverpool John Moores University, where they graduated with top honours.During their university years, they began participating in literary and performance events, including hosting open mic nights.

Their transition into drag performance followed encouragement from peers, including a fellow performer known as Auntie Climax. The Midgitte Bardot persona gained local recognition in Liverpool, leading the artist to relocate to London in 2021 to pursue broader opportunities within the performance circuit.

The performer says their understanding of gender identity evolved alongside their work in drag. They describe observing differences in how they and others were perceived in public, particularly in relation to attention and scrutiny, which contributed to their self-identification as non-binary trans.

They also emphasise the importance of directly addressing harassment, rather than ignoring it. According to the performer, confronting such behaviour can deter repeat incidents and challenge assumptions about vulnerability.

They argue that advising individuals with dwarfism to avoid confrontation may reinforce perceptions of weakness.Looking ahead, the performer says they hope their current production will resonate with other individuals with dwarfism and contribute to the development of a more supportive community.

They note that their experiences performing in major venues are often marked by isolation, as they are frequently the only person with their physical characteristics on stage.

Their work continues to explore how visibility, performance and narrative can be used to address social attitudes, with a focus on expanding representation and creating space for more diverse perspectives within the arts.

Political Islam, once employed as an identity marker, now divides more than it unites.

In recent remarks, Pakistan’s Army Chief General Asim Munir articulated his ideological vision for the country with a clarity that many leaders deliberately avoid. He unapologetically reaffirmed the Two-Nation Theory and emphasized the enduring divide between Hindus and Muslims—a worldview deeply rooted in religious exclusivism.

For me, this honesty is refreshing. At least he is not hiding behind the concept of “Taqiya” (dissimulation) or the carefully crafted ambiguity that many political actors use. He owns his hardline position openly.

But we must ask—what does this ideological commitment to Islamic identity actually mean in practice? If Islam is the unifying principle behind Pakistan’s statehood, as claimed by its top military leadership, then why have fellow Muslims suffered under its policies—both at home and across borders?

In 2023, the Pakistani state forcibly expelled nearly 1.7 million Afghan refugees, many of whom had been living in the country for decades. Men, women, and children—many of whom were born in Pakistan—were sent back to a nation plagued by instability and repression. These individuals were not ideological enemies or agents of discord; they were fellow Muslims seeking safety and sustenance. The logic behind their expulsion wasn’t religious. It was ethnic, political, and economic.

This contradiction isn’t new. In 1971, during the Bangladesh Liberation War, West Pakistan (now Pakistan) unleashed brutal violence against East Pakistanis (now Bangladeshis). According to historians, up to three million people were killed, and countless women were subjected to sexual violence. And who were the victims? They were not religious “others.” They were Muslims—sharing not just faith, but language, history, and family ties.

These historical and recent episodes raise a troubling question: Is Pakistan’s national identity truly anchored in Islam, or has religion been used selectively—as a political and strategic tool to justify repression, exclusion, and control?

The Two-Nation Theory, which underpinned the partition of British India in 1947, proposed that Muslims and Hindus were distinct nations who could not coexist peacefully in a single state. But this idea, though foundational to Pakistan’s creation, has since mutated. Rather than fostering a pluralistic Muslim society, the theory has been wielded to divide people further—between Punjabis and Pashtuns, Baloch and Mohajirs, Shias and Sunnis, Deobandis and Barelvis. The outcome is not national unity, but chronic fragmentation.

Instead of serving as a source of cohesion, Islam has become a battlefield of sectarian and ethnic contestation. Political Islam, once employed as an identity marker, now divides more than it unites. The lived reality of the Pakistani state contradicts its ideological claims. Whether it’s the suppression of Baloch voices, the marginalization of Sindhi culture, or the persecution of Shias, the nation has drifted far from its idealized Islamic unity.

This is not to say that Islam, as a faith or moral system, is to blame. The issue is how Islam has been instrumentalized by the state and military elites. When any religion becomes a political instrument, it loses its spiritual purpose and becomes a tool of coercion.

The youth of Pakistan—and indeed South Asia as a whole—deserve better than this endless recycling of exclusionary doctrines. They do not need more sermons on “us vs. them.” They need education systems that teach empathy, critical thinking, and historical introspection. They need media that values truth over propaganda. And most of all, they need leadership that champions collaboration over conflict.

True unity is not built by suppressing diversity. It is achieved by embracing it. Religion can inspire compassion and solidarity, but only when it is divorced from the machinery of state control and identity politics. A nation cannot find peace if its founding principle is fear of the other.

Pakistan’s future lies not in reinforcing ideological walls but in tearing them down—brick by brick. It lies in building bridges with its neighbors, reconciling with its own people, and redefining what it means to be Pakistani—not as a monolithic Islamic identity, but as a plural, inclusive, and humane society.

History has shown us where hate leads. It’s time to try something different.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.