Time to lean European?

In February, when freelance journalist Sarah Lawrynuik approached a Ukrainian man in army fatigues outside the Odessa Opera House, he was understandably defensive. “You from United States?” he demanded. “I’m from Canada!” she replied, with haste. “Ah, from Canada. Good. Friend! Canada.” Both laughed nervously as he agreed to the interview. The interaction was broadcast on a podcast from The Economist about a week after President Zelensky was bullied at the White House. Who can blame the soldier for asking if the journalist was friend or foe?

When I spent a semester in Kenya in 2012, I was constantly reminding my classmates and instructors that “no,” I wasn’t American. In fact, I was proud not to be American. Sometimes, people would drop their guard and beam back when I mentioned Canada, like the Ukrainian man, but not always.

One day, my diplomacy professor, who had once again gestured to me while talking about Americans, finally asked for clarification. “Well fine, but is Canada more like the U.S. or more like the UK?” Caught off guard, I replied, “We’re halfway between the two.” Which seemed to satisfy him and the rest of the class.

Why is it so hard to define Canada without reference to another global power? Would we rather be more American or more British? I guess it depends. Are we measuring height and weight or trying to spell “neighbour” correctly?

A new virus

As a solidly middle global power, with a GDP comparable to Italy and Brazil, Canada doesn’t have the luxury of going it alone. Canada is, in defence and diplomacy, a country that is only as strong as our friendships.

Unfortunately we’re living in a decidedly less friendly global order. Protectionism is circulating like a virus these days. That’s the term for what our American friends are experimenting with at the moment. I’m no economist, but here’s the theory: if a country prevents or limits the import of goods from other countries, they can build up their own industries at home. That means barring goods that could be produced cheaper elsewhere for the sake of giving your home industry a shot. The last time protectionism was trending globally was about 100 years ago. “Protectionism played a pivotal role in heightened tensions before World War II,” writes economist Rocio Gatdula in the Georgetown Security Studies Review. Even if “protecting your own” sounds like virtuous self-defence in some contexts, we should be concerned if protectionism is replacing free trade as the global standard for international relations.

Initially, when I started stewing over this editorial in February, I wanted to double down on the “buy Canadian” and “travel in Canada” message that our political leaders and grocery stores are delivering. But I think CC readers can handle a more nuanced argument. Of course, we should support Canadian businesses and services more than ever; buying Canadian is great. But we still need bananas from Mexico, vaccines from Europe and machinery from Japan. We shouldn’t talk ourselves into going it alone just because our American friends seem enamoured with the idea. Canada will always be as strong as our friendships. That’s why Mark Carney’s first international trip as Prime Minister was to Paris and London, where he described Canada as “the most European of non-European countries.” He’s not the only Canadian who thinks so; an Abacus Data poll run at the end of February found that 44 percent of Canadians like the idea of our country joining the EU.

Maybe the feelings are mutual. Germany’s foreign minister expressed kinship with Canada during G7 meetings taking place in La Malbaie, Que. in March, “We Europeans, we Germans, and Canada are not only partners; we are close friends. And friends have each other’s back.”

Democracy at home

As we watch our leaders anxiously network on the global stage, I think we have a responsibility at home too. I believe political culture is something that starts at the grassroots. That means no matter how much our leaders tell us that we are multicultural, for example, we’re not actually going to be a multicultural nation unless you and I decide to invite each other over for a potluck and risk trying something new.

Likewise, I think our calling as Canadian Christians right now is to resist the rise of protectionism in our own tiny ways. Our collective actions will add up to a political culture that supports free trade and international cooperation. That means, quite literally, showing friendship to all nationalities (even Americans!). Most of the Americans I’ve talked to since January are profoundly apologetic, but others (and some Canadians) continue to defend Donald Trump and Elon Musk. It won’t be easy, but if we want to counter the protectionist impulse sweeping our world, we’re going to have to find ways to ask thoughtful questions and give our neighbours the benefit of the doubt. What are they most afraid of? What do they love about Trump? Can we have that conversation over burritos?

If you live in a multicultural community or have the ability to travel, you probably have more opportunities to do the ground-level work that builds transnational friendships. My vision for this work comes from an experience I had when I was 24. I was sitting at a long weathered wooden table, at a backpacker’s hostel in Prague. Like all tables with a bench on one side, the seating capacity seemed to be infinite. Even the chairs were sometimes shared, half a butt cheek each. Around the table a UN of dusty twenty-somethings convened. We talked about the sights we’d seen, foods we missed and global politics too.

“You’re the ones with a feminist Prime Minister, right?” someone asked. My husband and I nodded slowly. It seemed that was the only news of Canada that had reached the EU in 2017.

Amidst the cacophony, a Mexican began a lecture and everyone chewed and listened. “We’re all Americans,” he exclaimed. “North, south, central, we’re all Americans, really. I’ve had enough with one country saying they have exclusive claim to a title that belongs to two continents.” I hadn’t thought of that. I’m Canadian, so I didn’t know Mexico City’s soccer team was simply called “América.” The Singaporeans had just arrived so everyone shoved over and somehow a few more place settings appeared.

I know I’m romanticizing my backpacking days, but I think there’s a spark in that room that I want to carry with me today. How can we know what life is like in Mexico or Denmark or India unless we sit together and ask genuine questions? Even if that means allowing ourselves to be uncomfortable. Instead of reflexively protecting what we have, I hope we each have enough optimism left in these strange times to see each other’s countries not as commodities or obstacles or enemies, but as friends.