GRANT’S DESI ACHIEVER
AND JUSTICE FOR ALL
By SHAGORIKA EASWAR
The Law Society of Ontario presented Prakash Diar with the Human Rights Award in recognition of his work and an inspiring career that reflects the highest ideals of the legal profession.
He was the recipient of the Diversity Award from the South Asian Bar Association (SABA) of Toronto for having “demonstrated exemplary commitment to the promotion and recognition of diversity in the legal profession”.
SABA North America, made up of over 10,000 lawyers from the US and Canada, presented Diar the Pioneer Award for his body of work in the fight for justice and human rights over the years.
He exposed the unjust system of Apartheid in his native South Africa where he defended many political prisoners. He was detained in solitary confinement without charge. He litigated many precedent-setting cases involving racial and systemic discrimination in Canada.
And yet, Diar shies away from being described as a human rights activist.
“I fought against injustice, but I don’t think I’ve led an extraordinary life – I was just thrown into situations because of the profession I was trained in,” he says.
The child of third-generation South Africans of Indian origin – his grandfather was 12 when he sailed from Gujarat for South Africa – Diar was born and raised in Johannesburg.
Life was not easy under the Apartheid regime. Discrimination, dislocation, segregation and basic human rights denied.
His father, a bright student, had to drop out of school to help support his family, putting in 12-hour days at a clothing factory.
“And that was his second job,” says Diar. “He’d get up at 5 am to deliver milk in the neighbourhood before heading off to the factory. As his rounds grew, he woke up earlier and earlier, and slept less and less. He was determined that at least one of his children would have the benefit of education.”
The first in his family to go to university, Diar recalls how his family was relocated “with the stroke of a pen”, forcibly moved 35 km away from their modest home when that area was declared for Whites-only.
Unjust but not unique to them, he says. Growing up, Diar witnessed the injustice all around him, and was inspired by the work of Gandhi and Mandela,
The first in his community to become a lawyer, he handled everything from real estate deals and landlord disputes to marriage licences and civil and criminal representation. In the process, his practice evolved organically into human rights.
He represented young protesters who were being arrested, accused of treason, incarcerated and tortured.
He lobbied internationally for them, testifying at the UN.
“I got the high profile cases because there was no one else,” he says. Picked up by an Indian firm that represented the Mandela family, Diar defended Winnie Mandela when she was arrested for flouting “banishment” and got her bail.
His work garnered the attention of the regime. The police threatened to get the “coolie communist lawyer”.
They shot and killed a young male client of his and arrested Diar.
When his wife Manju learnt of his arrest, she expected the worst. People were being tortured and killed. Many just disappeared. Denied information at the nearest police station, she returned with a small suitcase with his clothes. When they refused to accept it she saw it as a sign that he wasn’t there. She then went to every police station, farther and farther away, looking for him, accompanied by his mother. They located him on the tenth day.
“I was lucky I was only there for a month,” says Diar, softly.
During Apartheid, foreign embassies were in contact with human rights lawyers and Diar used to brief them. During one session, officials from the Canadian Ministry of Foreign Affairs and CIDA were “aghast” at what they heard. Fearful for Diar’s safety, they facilitated his safe passage to Canada.
“Canada has been so good to me and my family,” says Diar. “They fast-tracked my papers and waived police clearance – I couldn’t have gone to the police! – and we were in Canada within a month, in 1989.”
He received a fellowship at the Human Rights Research and Education Centre at Ottawa University’s Faculty of Law and used the time to requalify to practise law in Canada.
“It was a friendly faculty, and the studying was the easy part,” he says. “I came from a Commonwealth country where the laws, though not the same, are similar, and I was fluent in English. The financials were hard, though.”
The $800 he received each month barely covered rent and he did part-time consultancy work with NGOs to earn a little more. His son Nishal, six at the time and daughter Nirosha, four, understood the difficulties, says Diar.
“They would see things they really liked at a shop and would say, ‘That’s okay, we’ll get that when we have money’. It’s so hard as a parent to hear a child say that.”
He mentions people who helped him in his journey. Archbishop Ted Scott sponsored him as a landed immigrant. Vern Krishna, QC, chair of the accreditation committee at the Law Society at the time, espoused his cause. It helped that Diar had practised as a lawyer for seven years before landing in Canada and was not straight out of law school.
While on the fellowship, he studied, articled, and worked on his book, The Sharpeville Six: The South African Trial That Shocked the World.
It was a period of hard work and making do with little, but it paid off when he was called to the Ontario Bar in 1993. His first job was as a legal counsel at the Canadian Human Rights Commission.
Diar had become aware that racism existed in Canadian society, too, by this point. He successfully defended several South Asian physicians and healthcare professionals who were being passed over for promotions and being discriminated against. These included Dr Shiv Chopra and Dr Narendranath Joshi.
“Dr Chopra highlighted the many cases of physicians belonging to visible minorities not moving into senior positions and we brought a case against National Capital Alliance on Race Relations (NCARR). Over the 45-day trial, we proved systemic racism in Health Canada.”
It’s hard to prove subtle racism, and Diar is proud of the ground-breaking verdict they achieved.
Diar also played a pivotal role in the Indian Residential Schools Settlement Agreement. Recruited by the minister of justice and attorney general of Canada, from 2018 to 2021, he developed and delivered training to more than 2,000 Ministry of Justice employees regarding reconciliation with Indigenous Peoples.
After leaving the Department of Justice in 2022 to start his own consultancy, he has been delivering a training program for all federal public prosecutors across Canada on the over-representation of Indigenous Peoples in the criminal legal system.
Diar wants to get younger lawyers to think differently when applying the law. Everyone is equal in the books, says Diar, it’s in the application that the differences arise.
He tells participants a good place to start is the history between Canada and the Indigenous people. He’s working with a female Indigenous lawyer, and physician, author and trauma expert Gabor Maté, to create pathways to more trauma-informed ways to justice.
Manju, who was an underwriter and worked in reiki and massage therapy in their early years in Canada, chose to primarily be a homemaker. Nishal is a well-known sports broadcaster and Nirosha works for Revenue Canada.
Diar responds to a comment about how they both must be hugely proud of dad, with a chuckle. “Well, I suppose! But you know how it is, I am dad, and what I do is what they’ve seen all their lives, it’s nothing out of the ordinary.”
This “ordinary” man’s story is the subject of a full-length feature movie in advanced stages of development.
It was Manju’s idea to turn The Sharpeville Six into a movie. It had discrimination, a courtroom trial, murder and death row...more drama in real life than anyone could imagine, she said. A producer, however, saw it slightly differently. There were many such stories, he said. But one about a young Indian lawyer who was able to pull off a last-minute reprieve for prisoners on death row, that was something else.
“It was never about me,” Diar says. “The book is only about the six people and their stories, their families. I don’t figure in that narrative at all.”
But he saw that the project might be more viable if told through his eyes and is now excited to work on the project for which he has written a court scene in the screenplay.
He used to be a “fairly competent” soccer player in his youth, and now enjoys watching sports – and playing with his six-year-old grandson Royce.
And he remains committed to fighting injustice at every level.
“It is physically and emotionally draining for anyone facing discrimination. Some are fighting for their lives. I think back to the reaction of the six for whom I was able to obtain a stay literally hours before their execution. How they broke down, how one woman called me her angel. Nothing can be more rewarding than that.”
He tells newcomers that Canada is a wonderful country, but to watch out for hidden racism.
He faced it himself as a young lawyer, and shares his favourite quote from Nelson Mandela: “There is no easy walk to freedom.”
“Discrimination in Canada is sophisticated and discrete. But the good thing is that people are beginning to call it when they see it or experience it. My parents’ generation, even my own, we were afraid to jeopardize our jobs and so we dealt with a lot of stuff quietly, without protest. But the younger people, they think differently, they don’t accept injustice.
“Never give up. And remember, no one does everything on their own, so don’t be shy to ask for help. Seek mentorship, it doesn’t have to be formal. Family members, people in your profession, they can all help. I found that most people are happy to help – and specially the successful ones! They are most willing to share lessons from their journey.”
Prakash Diar ends with another quote from Mandela:
“It always seems impossible until it’s done.”
• Grant’s is proud to present this series about people who are making a difference in the community. Represented by PMA Canada (www.pmacanada.com).