For decades, the Canada Border Services Agency (CBSA) stood apart as one of the only major law enforcement agencies in Canada without independent civilian oversight. Accusations of racial profiling, abuse of power, and Islamophobia loomed large, yet no external mechanism existed to address these complaints. This lack of accountability not only eroded public trust but disproportionately impacted vulnerable communities at the intersections of race, religion, and immigration.
Bill C-20’s story is one of political inertia. Calls for CBSA oversight are not new. Civil society organizations, have long sounded the alarm on the systemic abuses within the agency. High-profile incidents of mistreatment at Canada’s borders highlighted the urgent need for reform, but successive governments have continued to look passively at the rising concerns.
The passage of Bill C-20, the Public Complaints and Review Commission Act was years in the making. In 2015, the Senate proposed establishing an inspector general for the CBSA. The idea faded into oblivion. In 2019, a bill to extend the mandate of the Civilian Review and Complaints Commission (CRCC) to include the CBSA passed the House of Commons but was abandoned when Parliament dissolved. The same pattern played out in 2020 and 2021: a bill tabled, debated, and then discarded, leaving communities vulnerable and justice deferred. It took years of mounting public outrage to finally push Bill C-20 over the finish line. Introduced in May 2022, the bill sought to replace the CRCC with a new body, the PCRC, tasked with overseeing both the RCMP and the CBSA. After two years of committee reviews, amendments, and delays, it was finally passed in October 2024. By this time, the question wasn’t why it took so long, but whether it would deliver on its promises at all.
Bill C-20 establishes an independent review body for the CBSA, bringing it in line with other law enforcement agencies in Canada. This was long overdue and should not be celebrated as a triumph but acknowledged as a basic standard that Canada had previously failed to meet. The creation of the PCRC is undoubtedly an important step—one that brings the CBSA in line with other law enforcement agencies in Canada by making it subject to independent review. But this long-overdue reform cannot be mistaken for a victory. In its current form, the PCRC faces significant barriers to fulfilling its mandate.
For starters, the Commission’s independence is far from guaranteed. Its funding and staffing remain tied to the very agencies it is tasked with overseeing, compromising its ability to function as an impartial watchdog. How can Canadians trust an oversight body that reports to the same Minister responsible for the RCMP and CBSA? True independence would require the PCRC to operate as an office of the legislature, free from the influence of those it is supposed to hold accountable.
The complaint process itself raises further concerns. Civil society organizations, including the Canadian Muslim Public Affairs Council (CMPAC), have pointed out that Bill C-20 imposes unnecessary barriers for individuals seeking justice. Vulnerable populations—many of whom lack legal status, face deportation, or do not speak English or French fluently—are expected to navigate a bureaucratic and intimidating process to file complaints. To make matters worse, the bill restricts the ability of third parties, such as NGOs or advocacy groups, to file complaints on behalf of affected individuals or address systemic issues. This limitation effectively silences those who need the most support. Perhaps the most glaring flaw is the bill’s inability to address systemic misconduct. While the PCRC has the authority to conduct reviews of agency-wide practices, Bill C-20 provides no clear mechanisms for filing complaints that specifically target systemic issues. Advocacy groups have repeatedly warned that without this capacity, the Commission risks becoming a reactive body, addressing individual grievances while ignoring the broader patterns of abuse that enable them.
Then there is the question of enforcement. The PCRC may investigate complaints and make recommendations, but it lacks the power to compel the CBSA or RCMP to implement changes. This perpetuates a culture where misconduct can continue unchecked, with little fear of consequences. Advocates have likened this to asking the agencies to police themselves—a practice that history has shown to be wholly ineffective.
Even when it comes to redress, the bill falls short. For those facing deportation or other urgent circumstances, there is no mechanism to halt proceedings during a complaint investigation. Nor does Bill C-20 allow for judicial review of the PCRC’s decisions, leaving complainants without a meaningful pathway for recourse. This omission speaks volumes about the government’s priorities, placing expediency over fairness and administrative convenience over justice.These shortcomings are not just technical oversights; they are fundamental flaws that undermine the very purpose of Bill C-20.
Bill C-20 is not a victory—it is a concession, a grudging acknowledgment of the public’s demand for action. But the work it claims to do is incomplete. The CBSA, which for years evaded accountability, remains largely unchanged in its culture and practices. The PCRC offers a mechanism for complaints but no guarantees of meaningful consequences. And for those most impacted by the CBSA’s misconduct, this is not justice; it is bureaucracy dressed up as progress.
The passage of Bill C-20 should not lull us into complacency. If anything, it should serve as a reminder of the systemic resistance to accountability that pervades Canadian institutions. Reform is not the end goal—it is a perpetual process, one that demands vigilance, advocacy, and courage. Bill C-20 may be a step forward, but we must ask ourselves: is it far enough?
