NSIRA: Holding Canada’s CSIS and RCMP Accountable for Overreach

Image Credit, Vlad Victoria

Most Canadians have never heard of the National Security and Intelligence Review Agency (NSIRA). Quietly operating behind the scenes, its job is to scrutinize the nation’s most secretive institutions, including the Canadian Security Intelligence Service (CSIS) and the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP). And though its name rarely surfaces in headlines, its role has become increasingly vital in the post-9/11 era—an era defined by rapidly expanding security powers, deepening surveillance infrastructure, and rising concern over unchecked government authority.

The agency was formally established in 2019 to address a glaring hole in Canada’s national security framework: the lack of a unified, independent body capable of reviewing intelligence activities across the federal government. It replaced a patchwork of older, more limited oversight boards and was given sweeping authority to examine classified information, review operations, and report directly to Parliament. Its creation was not the product of political foresight but of mounting public pressure following a series of controversies that revealed the dangerous consequences of weak accountability.

Among the most damning of these was the case of Maher Arar. In 2002, Arar, a Canadian citizen, was detained by U.S. authorities while passing through JFK Airport. Acting on flawed intelligence provided by Canadian officials—primarily from CSIS and the RCMP—the Americans handed Arar over to Syria, where he was imprisoned and brutally tortured for nearly a year. A federal inquiry, led by Justice Dennis O’Connor, would later confirm what many feared: Arar was entirely innocent, and Canadian agencies had not only failed him, but actively contributed to his suffering. The fallout was enormous. The government was forced to issue a formal apology and awarded Arar a $10.5 million settlement. It was a national scandal and a devastating black eye for both CSIS and the RCMP. It also stood as a chilling reminder of what can happen when powerful institutions operate without sufficient checks—when intelligence agencies forget that their mission to protect must never come at the cost of human dignity and due process.

The Arar case underscored the need for serious reform, but the situation became even more urgent in 2015 with the introduction of Bill C-51 by the Harper government. Marketed as an anti-terrorism law, the bill expanded the mandate of CSIS far beyond its traditional role of intelligence collection. For the first time in its history, the agency was granted authority to actively “disrupt” threats. This could include interfering with communications, sabotaging personal or financial activities, or manipulating online content. The powers were vaguely defined, and civil liberties groups warned that the legislation lacked clear limits and robust oversight. Critics saw it as a dramatic overreach—one that blurred the line between intelligence gathering and covert policing.

Public backlash was swift, and legal experts raised alarms about the potential for abuse. Many saw C-51 as a dangerous step toward authoritarianism, or at the very least, an erosion of the rights and freedoms Canadians take for granted. The outcry prompted the Trudeau government to respond with Bill C-59 in 2019. This legislation scaled back and clarified some of the most controversial elements of C-51, imposing stricter judicial controls and introducing more transparent guidelines for threat disruption. Most notably, it created a single, independent review body with the power to oversee not just CSIS but the entire Canadian intelligence apparatus.

While the agency now in charge of this oversight has made important progress, it still functions largely out of public view. Its reports are highly technical, often redacted, and rarely make front-page news. It doesn’t arrest wrongdoers or intervene in day-to-day operations. But what it does provide is essential: a layer of civilian review in a world where secrecy is often mistaken for necessity. And when it speaks, its findings have weight. Its presence alone ensures that powerful organizations like CSIS and the RCMP know they are not above scrutiny.

As Canada continues to face complex and evolving threats—from cyber espionage and foreign interference to domestic extremism—there is no question that intelligence and law enforcement agencies must be equipped to respond. But there is also no question that those same agencies must be held accountable. The balance between national security and civil liberty is fragile, and history has shown—most starkly in the Arar case—that when that balance tips too far in one direction, the consequences can be devastating.

The public may not think often about the machinery of intelligence oversight. It doesn’t dominate political debates or trend on social media. But in a democratic society, the existence of a watchdog with access, independence, and authority isn’t a luxury. It’s a safeguard—one that helps prevent the kinds of injustices that once led to an innocent man being tortured while his own country failed to protect him. And it reminds CSIS, the RCMP, and every other agency entrusted with power that they are not beyond the reach of accountability.