An Asterisk Beside the Prime Minister’s Name: The Leadership Selection That Betrayed Democracy

Today, Canadians have a new Prime Minister. But this is no ordinary leadership transition. It is not the product of an open race, a contest of ideas, or a reflection of democratic choice. This is a coronation. A pre-determined selection, engineered behind closed doors, culminating in a staged outcome that should alarm every citizen. This is not how a democracy functions. This is how power is transferred in systems where those in control dictate outcomes without public input, where leadership is installed rather than earned.

The Liberal Party’s leadership race has now concluded, with Mark Carney securing over 85% of the vote. A resounding margin—one that should raise more questions than it answers. By 3 PM on the day of the vote, only 150,000 Liberal members had participated, a stark contrast to the nearly 400,000 members who had initially been expected to vote. The glaring discrepancy is not just a footnote; it is a red flag. Almost 250,000 voters were suddenly removed from the process, their participation effectively erased. In any other democratic system, this would spark immediate scrutiny, investigations, and demands for accountability. But in this case, it has been met with silence.

This is not simply a matter of party politics. This is about the integrity of Canada’s democratic processes. A leadership race, particularly one that determines the next prime minister, should be an open contest. Instead, the past weeks have exposed a system designed to protect the interests of those already in power. It is a system that extracts as much money as possible from its members, that sets its own rules, and that—without fail—always ensures that its chosen candidate emerges victorious.

Justin Trudeau’s departure was not voluntary. It was an inevitability driven by years of declining public trust, internal dissent, and an accumulation of failures that could no longer be ignored. His government, once championed as a new progressive era, has left behind a legacy of economic uncertainty, policy contradictions, and widespread public disillusionment. Inflation has hollowed out the purchasing power of working Canadians, while the housing crisis has locked out an entire generation. Taxation policies meant to fund social programs have disproportionately burdened middle-class families, and the carbon tax—sold as a climate necessity—has punished individuals while exempting major polluters.

Even those who once supported Trudeau have come to recognize the reality: his government faltered under the weight of its own contradictions. Billions have been funneled overseas in the name of international aid while pressing domestic crises—clean drinking water for Indigenous communities, healthcare system failures, and the erosion of affordability—remain unaddressed. Small businesses, the backbone of Canada’s economy, have been disregarded in favor of corporate lobbying interests. The federal government has functioned more as an ideological machine than a governing body capable of responding to the real needs of its citizens.

Yet, despite the many failures of the outgoing administration, what is even more troubling is how this transition of power was orchestrated. Leadership changes should be driven by open debate and democratic competition. That did not happen. Instead, Canadians have been presented with a decision they were never allowed to make. This was not a race—it was a predetermined succession plan executed with precision by those who hold power behind the scenes.

The Liberal Party, which has long positioned itself as the party of inclusion and diversity, has instead revealed itself as an exclusionary institution, committed only to maintaining control. Two South Asian candidates, both of whom had legitimate leadership ambitions, were disqualified without clear justification. The party’s leadership selection process was conducted behind a wall of secrecy, overseen by a committee whose members remain largely unidentified. The party president, himself from a minority background, presided over a process that actively excluded candidates who did not fit the establishment’s chosen narrative. The message could not be clearer: diversity is acceptable only as long as it does not threaten the established order.

There was no need to hide the mechanics of this coronation. It was conducted in plain sight, with an almost audacious level of confidence that Canadians would simply accept it. This is not how a democracy is supposed to function. This is how leadership transitions happen in regimes where elections exist in name only. The Liberal Party has set a precedent that should terrify every Canadian—that leadership is not earned through public support but secured through backroom deals, secretive rule changes, and the systematic exclusion of those who pose a challenge to the status quo.

But the warning signs go beyond internal party politics. The non partisipation of nearly 250,000 voters before the leadership decision is a development that cannot be ignored. How did this happen? Who decided which votes would count and which would not? Why was there no public explanation? These are not trivial concerns. They are questions that go to the heart of whether Canadians can trust their electoral systems at all. The only acceptable response is a full forensic audit and an RCMP investigation into how this leadership process was conducted.

The implications of this event extend far beyond the Liberal Party. If this is allowed to stand, then democracy within Canada’s major political parties no longer exists. Leadership contests will not be won through genuine competition but assigned by party elites. This means that no matter who Canadians vote for in the future, the decisions will have already been made behind closed doors. This is not just a Liberal Party issue. If this is allowed to become the new norm, then every political party in Canada could be at risk of adopting the same playbook.

The role of the media in this moment is crucial. A free press exists to hold power accountable, to ask the questions that those in government would rather not answer. And yet, much of the Canadian media has treated this coronation as a routine political event, rather than what it truly is—an erosion of democratic norms. The sudden disappearance of 250,000 voters has not been investigated. The removal of candidates has been glossed over. The public has not been given a full account of how this leadership process was controlled and manipulated. The media should not be a tool for manufacturing consent—it should be a force that challenges those in power.

This is not about whether one supports or opposes the Liberal Party. It is about the survival of democratic legitimacy in Canada. If Canadians accept this as normal, then they are accepting that their voices do not matter. That elections are merely formalities. That the real decisions will always be made out of sight.

Now, Mark Carney takes office. But his leadership carries an asterisk that will never fade. He was not elected by the people—he was installed by a system that actively shut out competition, eliminated dissenting voices, and manufactured an outcome long before the first vote was cast. He will govern, but he will do so under the weight of a legitimacy crisis, one that cannot be ignored.

The next federal election will be a moment of reckoning. Canadians will have the chance to decide whether they accept this precedent or demand a return to real democracy. That election will not just be about party platforms or policy positions—it will be about whether Canada remains a country where the people choose their leaders or whether leadership will forever be decided by the political elite.

Pierre Poilievre has positioned himself as the alternative to this political machine, and his message has resonated with millions of Canadians who feel unheard. But opposition is not enough. If he truly wants to lead, he must prove he can restore faith in democracy, that he is not merely another iteration of the system he claims to oppose. Canadians need more than outrage—they need leadership that will guarantee their voices are heard.

Regardless of political affiliation, one truth remains: Canada is at a dangerous crossroads. What has happened in this leadership transition is not just a moment in the Liberal Party’s history—it is a test for Canadian democracy itself. If this is allowed to stand, then the very foundations of that democracy have already begun to erode.

Canadians must wake up. They must recognize what has transpired and refuse to accept it as just another political maneuver. Because if this is the new normal, then the right to choose one’s leaders is no longer a right—it is an illusion. And when democracy becomes an illusion, the consequences are irreversible.