I Will Survive: Fear & Loathing Across the Border

A popular song (2 million plus views as of this writing on YouTube) is a clever take on the classic “I Will Survive” by American Gloria Gaynor. It has caught the Canadian perspective on the zeitgeist of the moment: the hurt feelings on both sides of what has been touted as the world’s longest undefended border. Indeed, it can be said without exaggeration that relations between the historical neighbors have never been so tense.

As wealthy but lightly defended countries have often learned, being close to a much more powerful neighboring state – geographically or diplomatically – can be at times a precarious existence. All it takes is an aggressive new government in the stronger country and a hitherto relatively equal relationship of economic and military cooperation can suddenly turn exploitative, even threatening.

Since the start of Trump 2.0, this realization has been dawning across what was euphemistically referred to as the ‘western alliance,’ but this is felt nowhere more disconcertingly than in Canada. Its border with the US is indeed the longest in the world: 5,525 miles of often empty and virtually impossible to defend land, lakes and rivers. Canada’s two biggest cities, Toronto and Montreal, are only a few hours to the north, were you to approach them in a US army column. Moreover, approximately 90% of Canada's population lives within 100 miles (160 kilometers) of this virtual line.

For as long as one can reliably recall, Canadians have had an ambivalent attitude to the economic and military colossus to their south. To unfamiliar ears, the Canadian accent sounds remarkably similar to that of their American neighbors. Both populations tend to watch the same streaming shows, TV series, cheer on the same types of sports, shop at (virtually) the same types of stores and generally believe in the same broad sociopolitical concepts.

But these days there is palpable feeling of what could be charitably described as unease across a new, more anxious Canada. Riders on trains crawling along the congested trans-Canadian rail corridor behold the roofs of individual American buildings visible across the border with something akin to the tense feelings West Berliners must have regarded their East Berlin neighbors with. There is confusion, anger and mistrust just bubbling beneath the surface of otherwise polite Canadian faces.

Until Trump started opining so insistently about making Canada the US’s “51st state”, that would have been an absurd comparison. But not anymore. Newly minted prime minister Mark Carney has gone so far as to paint the new reality in stark, unvarnished terms: “The Americans want our resources, our water, our land, our country…If they succeed, they will destroy our way of life.” One of the most harmonious – and strategically important – relationships between rich western countries appears to have radically changed virtually overnight.

Canadians in general being of a calm disposition are generally disinclined to emotional, ungentlemanly displays have been less overtly dramatic about the situation than Carney, who is seeking to establish a favorable electoral persona and with an election to win next month. There was some anger at the US – and at Britain’s failure to condemn Trump’s threats against a Commonwealth country to the extent that there have been (as yet isolated) calls to sever ties with the monarchy.

More often, however, people shake their heads or roll their eyes at Trump’s gauche behaviour. He comes across as crazy, chaotic, totally inconsistent– in stark contrast to Canadians who see themselves as steady and realistic. Yet people seem to implicitly understand that Trump’s threats mean that Canadian life would have to profoundly change. Though what those changes might be was a topic they generally avoid or keep their opinions to themselves, as if the mere act of voicing them is sacrosanct act. Speaking ill of a neighbor would be somehow…unCanadian.

An empirical view of history shows that relations between America and Canada have not always been peaceful. The US invaded Canada in 1775 and 1812, without success (although it can be argued that the Empire struck back more than adequately with the capture of Washington and giving the White House its name by burning it). War Plan Red during the 1920s and 30s existed as one such invasion plan . In fundamental ways, fear of the US shaped Canada, encouraging its unification out of what had originally been disparate territories into its confederation form, and also the decision to site its capital in Ottawa, further from the border than its other eastern cities.

In the mid-20th century Canada sought to create what it called a “special relationship” with the US, seeking a closeness akin to the transatlantic alliance between the Americans and British. Canada’s export-oriented economy – necessary because of the country’s relatively small and scattered population – got reciprocal access to vast US markets. US businesses in turn could access prosperous Canadian consumers, often close to America’s own manufacturing heartlands. During the cold war, both countries saw Canada as a key place to build defenses against Russian attack, resulting in the creation of NORAD and the American military shield Trump often likes to use as an example when bemoaning Canada’s inability to adequately defend itself.

Yet it would be wholly unrealistic to assume that what was, now is. Trump has a greater affinity it seems for Moscow than Ottawa, and it must be tabled that the North American alliance may in effect be dead. By area, Canada is the world’s second-biggest country after Russia, but its armed forces are tiny, about half the size of Britain’s. The feeling that Canada has been abandoned militarily by the US possibly explains the huge “<expletive deleted> Trump” flags and signs more and more Canucks seem to be waving around these days with all the passion of a jilted lover.

Economic ties will take longer to unwind. There is still American produce on Canadian supermarket shelves, and goods wagons from Union Pacific still shunt across the Great White North’s railways. But there has been an impact: the number of Canadians visiting the US is already plummeting, reaching low levels comparable to those during the latter stages of the pandemic. In this, as in much else, Canada may be an early adopter of new habits regarding the US which then spread across what is left of the liberal west. For left-leaning foreigners, Americana and American places may lose much of their appeal, because the US has been made out to be so authoritarian and hostile to outsiders by both an agenda-filled (and fueled) domestic media and by the occasionally outlandish statements by a confrontational POTUS.

All of this has bred a new nationalism and an acute interest among Canadians about what binds them together as a national experiment of disparate cultures, races, approaches, religions and outlooks. Will it last, as national unity here can be as elusive as ice cream on a scorchingly hot Toronto summer's day? That depends, as many things in this world does, on the temperament of whomever resides in the White House.

Will Trump or any hard-right successors such as J.D. Vance allow this provocative gamesmanship to continue? Another US invasion may not actually be imminent. Trump already has far too many ambitious policy goals. Conquering, let alone occupying, as enormous and physically extreme a country as Canada would be an intimidating prospect even for the most devout of Republicans. Nonetheless, the longer this state exists, the harder it will get. Canada can resist, fight back even, but ultimately the tit-for-tat tariff battle is unsustainable for the very simple reason that this is not a contest fo equals where economies

Yet it’s equally hard to imagine US-Canadian relations returning quickly to their former status. Too many imbalances and contrasts between the countries have been pointed out, too many threats offered. Trust has been lost and will be hard to regain. Political careers are being made on both sides by acting tough towards the neighboring government. And we all know how hard it is for politicians to back down.

Canadians are less known than Americans for flying the flag, but there were a lot of them fluttering along the border these days. These are not just symbols of national pride: they might as well be battle ensigns.

Maybe some good can come of this. For all too long Canada, like so many other nations in this world, has grown complacent, secure in the belief that a munificent America would play by the rules-based system they helped birth as well as enjoy military protection at a relatively low cost. Donald Trump has given us all a collective lick in the pants, provided the rudest of awakenings, and forced us all to face a stark choice: grow up or be run over.

This is our chance to reboot how we look at the world, define meaningful alliances and think about how this nation with its vast, increasingly coveted supplies of water and minerals, can address its considerable inequalities (and very high per capita carbon footprint) create a different model for the next century. Societies need a rethink every now and then in their historical lifecycle and we have learned a very important lesson.

If we don’t revisit who and what we are as well as our place in the world every now and then, someone else will do so for us.