2025 Gerald L. Gall Human Rights Award
Professor W. Andy Knight
W. Andy Knight
September 18, 2025
Good afternoon, everyone.
I am deeply humbled to stand before you today to receive the Gerald L. Gall Award. To be recognized by the John Humphrey Centre for Peace and Human Rights—an institution that carries forward Canada’s proud legacy of advancing human dignity—is an honour beyond words.
This award is named for the late Gerald Gall, whose life and work exemplified the tireless pursuit of justice. So, to be associated with his name, and with this tradition, is profoundly moving for me. I accept this honour not only for myself but on behalf of the many colleagues, students, community members, and fellow advocates who have walked alongside me in this long journey.
Why Human Rights Still Matter
We live in a paradoxical moment. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights, crafted in 1948 under the leadership of John Humphrey, set out a vision of a world where dignity, equality, and freedom are the birthright of all people. For him, human rights were inherent in every human being – simply because they are human. And yet, nearly 80 years later, that vision is still unfinished.
We see the persistence of racism, xenophobia, Islamophobia, antisemitism, and systemic discrimination—sometimes hidden, sometimes blatant. We see the suffering of refugees and the stateless, the silencing of women and marginalized communities, the erosion of democratic institutions, and the rise of authoritarian populism.
Closer to home, in Canada, we are reminded every day that human rights are not abstract ideals but lived realities: the struggles of Indigenous peoples for justice and sovereignty; the ongoing fight against anti-Black racism; the rights of newcomers seeking safety; the voices of youth demanding climate justice.
It is in this contested space—between aspiration and reality—that I have devoted much of my work.
My Journey in Human Rights
My own journey in human rights has taken many forms—academic, institutional, and community-based.
As a scholar of international relations and global governance, I have spent my career examining how institutions, norms, and policies can either entrench injustice or create pathways toward equity and peace. My writings, from global security to Pan-Africanism, are all animated by the same conviction: that no society can truly flourish when some are excluded from the table of humanity.
But my work has never remained in the ivory tower. It has been deeply connected to practice and community. Let me share a few examples:
Challenging Extremism in Institutions: Through my recent research project funded by the Department of National Defence, and the accompanying Trusted to Serve documentary produced by my daughter Nauzanin Knight of 1844 Studios, we uncovered the dangers of xeno-racist and white supremacist infiltration in the Canadian Armed Forces. This work was not about demonizing individuals—it was about protecting the integrity of an institution meant to serve all Canadians and ensuring that military service is rooted in inclusion and trust.
Advancing Black Excellence: As Provost Fellow for Black Excellence and Leadership at the University of Alberta, I have worked to dismantle systemic barriers facing Black faculty, staff, and students, and to create spaces of belonging. The struggle for equity in education is part of the broader struggle for human rights.
Global Engagements: Internationally, I have collaborated with colleagues across the Caribbean, Africa, and beyond to decolonize our Euro-centric and America-centric curricula, to elevate subaltern voices, and to bring the perspectives of the marginalized into global governance conversations. Whether through the Pan-African Heritage Museum, the United Nations, UNESCO, or the University of the West Indies, I have sought to connect the local with the global, always through the lens of justice.
Community and Arts-based Engagement: I have long believed that art and storytelling are powerful vehicles for human rights. Projects like Sandra Bromley’s Gun Sculpture, or the art for peace discussions with Ela Gandhi, the grand granddaughter of Mahatma Gandhi, or my students’ applied theatre work, all remind us that human rights are not just about laws and policies but about hearts, emotions, and human connection.
None of this work has been done alone. It has always been with others, for others, and often against great resistance. But what sustains me is the belief that, as Archbishop Desmond Tutu once said, reflecting that ubuntu principle: “My humanity is bound up in yours, for we can only be human together.”
Looking Ahead: A Call to Action
Today, as we celebrate the International Day of Peace, I want to leave you with three challenges:
Defend Truth in an Age of Misinformation. Human rights cannot thrive in a culture of lies, conspiracies, and scapegoating. We must commit ourselves, as public intellectuals, activists, and citizens, to lowering the temperature of public discourse and seeking truth above division.
Protect the Most Vulnerable. Whether it is Indigenous youth on the Prairies, migrants at our borders, or civilians caught in wars abroad, the measure of our human rights commitment is how we treat those with the least power. We cannot cherry-pick whose rights we defend.
Imagine Beyond Borders. The challenges of our time—climate change, pandemics, displacement—know no boundaries. We must recover a spirit of global citizenship, where we see ourselves not only as Canadians but as part of a fragile, complex interconnected human family.
The world is in what I have often called an “interregnum”—a time of turbulence and transition, where the old order is fading and a new one struggles to be born. Such times are dangerous, but they are also moments of possibility. We have the chance to reimagine human rights not as a narrow legal code, but as the one of the foundational pillars of a just and peaceful global order. Whatever new global order is being born, let us make sure that it is built on the foundation of human rights.
As I accept this award, I do so with immense gratitude, sincere humility, and renewed commitment.
I dedicate it to my late Dad, a preacher, who taught us not to be ashamed of our normative positions; to my mother, who instilled in me the values of compassion and justice; to my students (past and present), who challenge me daily to live up to my words; to my colleagues and community, who continue to remind me that change is indeed possible; to my wife (Mitra), kids (Bayan and Nauzanin), and my new grandkid (Deonte), who keep me grounded; and, to those whose rights are still denied, whose dignity is still being trampled upon, whose voices are still silenced—because their struggle is the reason this work matters.
Human rights are not given once and for all—they must be claimed, they must be defended, and they must be renewed in every generation. That is our collective responsibility.
Thank you for your time and attention.