O Canada! You're great again!
Credit Trump for giving Canada back its anti-American voice.
Unfailingly polite. That’s how I describe Canada, in all my interactions with the nation and its people. One time I flew into Toronto in the winter time to attend a business meeting. (Warning: I am going to blame my wife for this, so if you’re reading it, I’m already sorry.) My wife wanted me to be well-prepared, so she talked me into using our bigger suitcase, so I could properly pack the entire contents of my clothes closet. I had to check the bag.
My conundrum occurred flying back to Atlanta. Delta flights between Toronto Pearson to Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport don’t use ATL’s international terminal, they fly like domestic routes. Because, you know, it’s just Canada. Let me explain: going to Canada, you clear customs pretty easily, but coming back, you have to clear U.S. customs in Toronto, before you get on the flight. (Yes, this is a long story, with no way to make it shorter.)
So, I checked in at the counter. “That’s a pretty big suitcase. Do you want to check it?” the agent asked. “No, I’ll gate check it like it I did coming here,” I answered, feeling satisfied with myself. See, at the time, ATL’s international terminal didn’t have Plane Train service from the main terminal, so you had to wait and catch a shuttle bus. My flight was arriving to the main terminal, but my checked luggage would end up at the international baggage claim, because of customs. So a gate check is the obvious answer.
“Sir, I don’t think they allow it,” the agent warned. I was undeterred. So I went into the Global Entry portal, got my passport squared away, and happily cleared U.S. customs, then spilled into the security line. Before the security line, there was a place to check baggage. “Sir, you might want to check that bag,” the guy told me. “No, I’ll gate check it.”
“That’s not the problem. That bag is too big to fit through the scanner. You can’t take it.” I had gotten it through security in Atlanta, so I could not imagine I couldn’t take it home that way. “I’ll give it my best try.” I figured, what’s the worst that could happen? Everyone was so polite.
I got to the end of the security line, at the scanner, and the security agent said, “Sir, that bag is too big. You should have checked it.” They were right. “Can’t I gate check it?” The answer was no, I could not. Then a friendly, armed Canadian security officer told me he could help me if I followed him. He said he would be glad to help me get my bag checked.
So away we went. He led me out of the line, back to the other end of the massive room, and told me that I should go through the unmarked door in front of us. I thanked him, opened the door, walked through, and he closed it behind me. I found myself outside the terminal, on the sidewalk, with the door (it had no handle on the outside) shut. Unfailingly polite, but stern, because this stupid American decided to do his own thing.
(It took me right up until boarding to straighten my mess out. Having a bag and passport that had already cleared customs on the wrong side of security is an oddity that requires many interactions to explain, each requiring waiting in the special line marked “for stupid people.” And yes, my flight arrived at Concourse B, and I had to take a shuttle to the international terminal, get my big bag from the baggage claim, and take another shuttle back to the main terminal for parking. Shame on me.)
Now, imagine my story, except I had acted like Donald Trump. Instead of passively not listening to good Canadian advice, I had berated them, called them the 51st state, and threatened to ruin their economy and trade with their biggest, most friendly trade partner.
Social scientist Seymour Martin Lipset wrote a book in the late 80s called “Continental Divide: The Values and Institutions of the United States and Canada.” In the book, he makes the argument that Canadian identity is very closely linked with their sociological need to distinguish themselves from Americans. He called them “the ultimate anti-Americans” not because they hate the U.S., but because, like the sibling of a sports star, valedictorian, who garnered fame and fortune, they define themselves in terms of what makes them different. Think Kendall Musk, or Marvin Bush.
The differences between the U.S. and Canada are profound, historically and institutionally. Canadians were loyalists to the crown. Americans rebelled. Canadians are collaborative and open to multicultural pluralism. The U.S. imbibes immigrants through the crucible of discrimination, hate, and oppression, until they claw their way into the economic mainstream. Think Irish and Italian immigrants. Americans are “rugged individualists” while Canadians can be rugged, but do it together, nicely, and politely.
So when the U.S. pivots to poke Canada in the eye, Canadians react much more than, say, India poking them in the eye. To be sure, the diplomatic row between Canada and India is more pronounced and sour, in a very real sense, than the threats and aspersions coming from President Donald Trump. Many Canadians would agree with Trump, that unlimited illegal immigration—or even legal immigration—is bad policy. Look at the rent and utilities costs in Toronto, where immigration has increased at a record pace.
During COVID, how Canadian PM Justin Trudeau dealt with truckers would make the most DEI-hating MAGA hat proud. Destroy them! Freeze their bank accounts! But their resistance was not completely futile. The MAGAs identified with their Canadian trucker rebels, but in the battle with DEI, MAGAs like being the power in charge. They’d do what Trudeau did six days a week and twice on Sunday.
But somehow, Canadians can’t get themselves riled up about relations with India. There are many Indian immigrants living in Canada, so this is very important, but socially, it doesn’t light a spark. Yet when Trump keeps playing games with big tariffs, and trolls Canadians with talk of taking over their country, it gets their nationalist goose feathers ruffled in a big way.
Justin Trudeau was on the ropes—forced to cede power, his closest allies in government resigning and not holding back on their reasons. But Trump has managed to make even the unpopular Trudeau, whose immigration policies have stifled Canada’s growth, look great to his countrymen.
“I want to speak first directly to the American people. We don’t want this. We want to work with you as a friend and ally. And we don’t want to see you hurt either, but your government has chosen to do this to you,” Trudeau said in a press conference from Ottawa.
He closed with a threat.
“Every country is very aware that if the American government is willing to do this to their own closest ally, neighbor, and friend, everyone is vulnerable to a trade war.”
Trudeau imposed a 25 percent tariff on $30 billion of U.S. imports, on Tuesday. Then Trump backed down, delaying his Canadian tariffs for one month (he also delayed tariffs on Mexican imports).
Nothing in the world will make a Canadian leader look more badass than standing up to an ugly American bully and winning, except possibly winning the Stanley Cup.
Even in his threats and lectures, Trudeau was unfailingly Canadian. He was stern, but polite. He asked the American president to follow him, said he has a solution for our problems, and ushered him out the door to the pavement.
O Canada! You’ve found your identity right where you left it. The ultimate anti-Americans have a new voice, and they can thank Donald Trump for giving it to them.
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Canadians have perfected the art of being passive/aggressive. This often occurs in very indirect ways that have little to do with one’s own behavior. I parked my Washington State plated auto in a self-park lot perfectly between the lines bought a ticket and went inside a nearby building to conduct some business. When I returned a hour later I saw that a back door window had been smashed. Nothing else in my car had been disturbed and all the doors were still locked. On top of the broken glass on the back seat was a note written in a neat hand “Stay home Yankee!”, it instructed. Passing through US customs a hour later I commented about the window to the customs agent and showed him the note. He told me this was not uncommon and similar notes were always left.
I too experienced going through customs on my way back home via Canada, at Vancouver's airport. It was a helluva lot faster than going through at SFO, which I appreciated (I had Global Entry at the time, too).
Just to add more about the picture for those that hadn't seen it: the bald eagle had attacked the goose as it was sitting on the ground (there's a pic of that too) and the goose successfully fought off the eagle after 20 minutes.