
As the United States retreats from being a unipolar power, the prevailing global order is at a crossroads. For Canada, it’s time to start thinking about what comes next and what it means for Canadian policy. The Hub is running a new essay series to grapple with these seismic changes and offer a new clear-headed direction for Canadian foreign policy.
It’s hard to imagine a less relevant message and messenger than Stéphane Dion, former Liberal Party leader and current ambassador to France, warning us a couple of weeks ago that Donald Trump’s threats to make Canada the 51st state are “not normal and violate the UN Charter.”
The year 2008 called—it wants its world order back.
At a certain point (that point being about six weeks ago), normative critiques of Trump’s behaviour became worthless. The president clearly has the hard and soft power to change norms. He already has. So, what are we going to do about it? The response from Canada’s Liberals seems clear: a combination of new-found, vacant patriotism, impotent righteous indignation (I thought we were friends! How dare you!), and self-harming counter-tariffs and boycotts.
Smart Liberals can’t possibly think this will serve any real economic or foreign policy end, so I can only conclude they’re pursuing it for political reasons. Canadians hate Trump. Conservatives and Republicans are both right-wing. Therefore, Pierre Poilievre is just like Trump. Therefore, Canadians should hate Poilievre.
And it’s not just the Liberals. The reflexive instinct to “stand up” to Trump is so strong that Canadians across the country are falling over each other to prove just how indignant they are—launching cringe Canadiana marketing campaigns, booing the American national anthem, making sure everyone understands just how much they hate Elon Musk. In my own conservative circles, while the claim to patriotism is quite a bit more legitimate, the response to Trump’s provocations still feels inadequate, like we’re bringing a knife to a gunfight and then waving it around in the air to prove how fearless we are.
But what if Canadian leaders took a minute to try to put emotions aside and get a real read of the situation we’re in? What would a cold-blooded analysis of the facts reveal?
The reason Dion’s reference to the norms of liberal internationalism rings so hollow is that if it wasn’t abundantly clear following Trump’s first election, Brexit, the rise of nationalism in Europe, the backlash against the World Economic Forum and the World Health Organization, and various other highly compelling proof points, it should be clear based on Trump’s behaviour leading up to and since his inauguration that the End of History is over. What may not have been clear in 2016 but should be now, is that as China—and to a lesser extent Russia and Iran—seek to dominate and define a new world order, the U.S. has moved beyond Pax Americana and the idealist liberal globalism it once promoted.
While Trump’s own outbursts cannot be said to be perfectly consistent with a coherent worldview, a clearer vision for national-interest-oriented American foreign policy in a multi-polar world is emerging from his administration.
This new vision, wherein the U.S. decouples further from China, which it understands to be its greatest foe, withdraws from Europe, acts tactically in the Middle East, and reasserts its dominance over North and South America, should make us think about the realism chapter many of us cavalierly flipped past in our undergraduate foreign policy textbooks. Perhaps if we hadn’t spent so much time slapping ourselves on the back about Pearsonian peacekeeping, we’d have internalized some cold hard truths about how countries wield power in the real world.
If it’s true that the Trump administration thinks of Canada not as a geopolitical sidekick but as a crucial territorial front in an antagonistic, multi-polar world, then suddenly our land border (the biggest in the world), our ports (access to Asian and European markets), and our North (a terrifyingly unguarded flank not far from a saber-rattling China and a mercurial Russia) become matters of existential concern.
From that perspective, threatening to make Canada the 51st state might be disrespectful, but not asking some basic questions about how much we spend on our military, why we’ve left the Arctic so exposed, and why we’re still so blasé about China would be presidential malpractice.
On the one hand, Trump may well use tariffs against Canada to try to shock business owners and investors into choosing U.S. production. But this approach has built-in political limits. Trump knows his voting coalition is cost-of-living sensitive, and they won’t abide by the higher prices caused by aggressive tariffs against a highly integrated trading partner. Not to mention, references to limits on American banks, Canada’s digital sales tax, and supply-managed dairy put plenty on the table for Canadian trade negotiators, some of which can be framed as concessions to the U.S. but could turn out to be wins for Canada.
On the other hand, there are reasons to believe tariff threats against Canada are as much about geopolitics as they are about the American economy. On this matter, Canadian leadership has had nothing strategic to say. Sovereignty threats are concerning and Canada should be clear about where it draws a red line. But, once that boundary is drawn, why not begin a conversation about Canada’s assets in a multipolar world? Canada has abundant minerals, oil, and water. All things the U.S. needs and should want to buy within North America. It’s also in our interest to increase defence spending, harden our borders and ports, and protect the Arctic.
Between greater security, the potential to reduce trade barriers in a new Canada-U.S. trade agreement, and the opportunity to friend-shore more supply chains to further isolate China, Canada has the makings of a negotiating posture that should put us on the front foot.
It’s true that Trump behaves erratically and it’s impossible to know his end goal, particularly given that Canada’s lame-duck political situation delays our ability to meaningfully negotiate. But if we’re to aim for the best possible outcome in Canada’s national interest, we have to try to understand where the American administration is coming from, realistically assess our advantages (we have some things they need) and disadvantages (they’re ten times our size), and begin to work toward a solution that maximizes our wealth and our strength.
We should know what our red lines are (our sovereignty feels like an important one) but also test the boundaries of what we’re comfortable with, pushing ourselves out of our turn-of-the-century idealism and into the realm of the new reality.
In this context, while targeted counter-tariffs may make sense for setting up future negotiating concessions, cutting off our noses to spite our faces through major counter-tariffs and symbolic boycotts seems at best a distraction and at worst, painful self-indulgence. We don’t have to play the Who Hates Trump More? game. And we don’t have to confront a generational challenge with a combination of impotent bravado and foolish self-harm.
Come on, Canada. Let’s get a grip.