Lubomyr Luciuk
October 12, 2026
Ottawa says Canadians deserve to know whether Nazi war criminals came to this country. Last week’s release of a largely unredacted version of Alti Rodal’s report, written for the Commission of Inquiry on War Criminals, headed by Mr Justice Jules Deschênes, sets a welcome precedent for openness about who was allowed into Canada after the Second World War, even if her work adds little to what the informed public already knew.
Canadians certainly need to remember what the Deschênes Commission actually found. Claims that “thousands” of Nazi villains were in our midst were dismissed as “grossly exaggerated.” Of more than 800 files examined, the Commission found evidence warranting further investigation in only 20. Not one of those suspects was ever convicted of Nazi-era war crimes in a Canadian criminal court, and the government’s later civil proceedings, seeking the denaturalization and deportation of individuals who supposedly lied about their wartime activities to obtain citizenship, were largely unsuccessful. It also bears mentioning that the designated representatives of the Canadian Jewish community publicly welcomed the Commission’s findings when those were tabled on 12 March 1987. I know because I was there.
Meanwhile, an uncomfortable question goes unanswered. Why is Ottawa willing to open the archives about Nazis said to have come here but not about alleged Soviet war criminals and Communist collaborators who entered Canada after the Second World War? This concern is not speculative. On my library’s shelves are two memoirs, one published in Montreal in 1991 and the other in New York in 1980, whose authors unashamedly reveal their service in Soviet security organs. The Montreal author openly revels in his past as a Soviet secret policeman, obligingly including even a photograph of himself in an NKVD lieutenant’s uniform. I also have the interview a woman gave the Montreal Gazette in 1995, recounting her work with a SMERSH execution squad, and an account another fellow provided for an ethnic community newspaper in Toronto. These people were not hiding. They boasted about what they had been and done.
Under immigration policies adopted by Cabinet in 1947, Communists were excluded from coming to Canada. Screening rules from 20 November 1948 listed known or suspected Communists, Communist agents, members of the Mafia, Italian fascists and revolutionaries as inadmissible to this country. I received official confirmation of these details on 15 September 2000 from Terry M Beitner, then Acting Director and General Counsel of the Department of Justice’s Crimes Against Humanity and War Crimes Section. On 31 August of that year I asked him whether Canadian immigration and security officials had been required to screen applicants to prevent Communists and members of Soviet security, police or punitive units from entering Canada after the war. Mr Beitner replied in the affirmative, although he acknowledged that the immigration screening system was not perfect. He also could not provide statistics on whether, or how many, such individuals entered Canada. But he was certain our immigration authorities would not knowingly have permitted KGB men to come here. He added that he had not researched whether there had ever been a “ratline” for getting Reds into Canada.
Most importantly, Mr Beitner assured me that: “All allegations received by this office will be investigated.” Each would be assessed case by case and, if the evidence warranted it, the Department would commence an action. As for the Department’s understanding of complicity in war crimes and crimes against humanity, he noted: “Active membership in the organization responsible for committing the atrocities is not required.” So being a cook, a chauffeur, or a clerk for the NKVD, SMERSH, or KGB could exclude you from being allowed into Canada since your work indirectly supported murderers.
Four individuals—three men and one woman—whose public statements provided evidence of their involvement with NKVD, SMERSH and KGB were known to be in Canada. All were brought to the attention of the War Crimes Unit. How were their cases handled?
I asked. More than once. Over a quarter of a century ago, Mr Beitner explained that his office would not discuss ongoing or completed investigations. Fair enough. But why are the relevant records still being withheld? The individuals are long dead. And the Soviet regime they served is thankfully deceased.
Finally, in September 2024, I filed an Access to Information request with the Department of Justice, seeking records on cases investigated by its War Crimes Unit since 1984 involving individuals who served with Soviet-era organs of repression like the NKVD, SMERSH and KGB.
On 10 September 2026, Justice Canada replied. They located 9,241 pages on this subject, but 9,233 of those released were blank. One block of withheld information runs for 1,837 consecutive pages; another adds up to 1,761 pages. The exemptions claimed included international affairs, law enforcement and personal privacy. Perhaps some redactions are legitimate. But they must be applied in accordance with the law, and the passage of time matters. Dates, chronology, the agencies involved and the general categories of cases could be disclosed without necessarily revealing a single name. Why, after all these years, should such basic historical information remain hidden? Exemptions are not meant to bury history.
On 16 September, I filed a complaint with the Information Commissioner of Canada, asking that the unredacted records be examined to determine whether the Department had met its legal duty to release whatever information could reasonably be severed from exempt material. I am not demanding that Ottawa publish everything. Sources, methods and personal details may still deserve protection. But when more than 9,000 pages are blanked out, the public is entitled to ask whether the law has been properly applied.
The government cannot undo the past. But it can account for its own actions. If these cases were investigated, Canadians deserve to know what was discovered. If there was no follow-up, Canadians should be told why not.
We know there were at least a few people in this country who served or collaborated with the organs of Soviet repression, individuals who were supposed to be excluded from entry to Canada by the immigration rules in force when they arrived. Now we also know that Justice Canada
holds at least 9,241 pages on such Soviet-era cases, nearly all of them withheld, almost certainly including information about four people who candidly admitted how they served the Soviet state before they came to live amongst us. Why is the evidence about how they managed to come here not accessible?
Justice cannot be selective. Ottawa should tell us the whole truth and nothing but the truth. No one complicit in Soviet atrocities should ever have been allowed to make Canada their home. We should finally learn how some probably did.
Lubomyr Luciuk is a Professor Emeritus of the Royal Military College of Canada and a Senior Research Fellow of the Chair of Ukrainian Studies at the University of Toronto.