Statement on the passing of Stephen Lewis

The Ontario NDP Mourns the Loss of Stephen Lewis

We have lost Stephen Lewis, and the world feels smaller without him.

Stephen Lewis had a voice that could fill a room, a convention hall, the United Nations General Assembly. When he spoke, you felt it: the moral clarity, the righteous anger, the unshakeable belief that suffering was not inevitable and injustice was not acceptable. He made you truly believe a better world was possible, and he made you want to fight for it.

For eight years, Stephen was the leader of the Ontario NDP. In 1975, he doubled our seats in the legislature becoming Leader of the Official Opposition. What people remember mostly is how he campaigned: telling the story of a different Ontarian in trouble each day, humanizing what others reduced to statistics, making people see themselves in each other’s struggles. He championed the Elliot Lake miners when no one else would. He forced a Conservative premier to bring in rent control. He fought for the Occupational Health and Safety Act.

But Stephen Lewis became legendary on the world stage, not because of titles, though he held many, but because of what he did with them. As the UN Special Envoy for HIV/AIDS in Africa, Stephen stood before presidents and prime ministers and refused to let them look away. He had seen the overflowing hospital wards, the endless funerals, the villages full of women, so many women, dying while the world debated whether they were worth saving.

Stephen saw what others wouldn't: that gender inequality was driving the pandemic. That women were being denied treatment, living with violence, carrying the burden of care for entire households while dying themselves. That grandmothers were raising AIDS-orphaned children with no support. He was relentless in demanding testing, treatment, funding, and political will. And when the world moved too slowly, he came home and built the Stephen Lewis Foundation with his daughter Ilana, turning rage into action, and compassion into survival.

The honours piled up. Companion of the Order of Canada, TIME's 100 most influential people, the Pearson Peace Medal, Knight Commander of Lesotho, 42 honorary doctorates. But ask anyone who knew Stephen's work, and they won't talk about the awards. They'll talk about the 300 grandmothers who gathered in Toronto in 2006 and raised $40 million for African grandmothers caring for AIDS orphans. They'll talk about the lives saved by the Foundation's work. They'll talk about the community organizations in Africa that finally got the funding and respect they deserved.

Even at 87, even after being diagnosed with cancer and given just three months, his conscience would not let him rest. As the world witnessed genocide unfolding in Gaza, Stephen went out to his old riding of Scarborough West and stood at the roadside with signs calling for an end to the violence, demanding justice for Palestine. He refused to look away. He never did.

There’s one more extraordinary part of Stephen's story. His father David Lewis was a founding architect of our movement. In the 1970s, father and son led the federal and provincial NDP together, a rare moment in the history of our party. Stephen knew what that meant. He knew what it felt like to carry that torch. Two days ago, from his hospital bed, Stephen watched his own son, Avi Lewis, elected leader of Canada’s NDP.

To Michele, to Ilana, Avi and Jenny, to his grandchildren Zev, Yoav, Zimri, and Toma, to his siblings Michael, Janet, and Nina, and to everyone who loved him: we share in your grief. We will carry him forward in everything we do.

Rest in power, Stephen Lewis.

In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to the Stephen Lewis Foundation.