There have been two moments in my life when I have felt truly concerned about the future of Canada. Then and now.
On the night of the 1995 Quebec referendum, I participated in a live television panel in Montreal. As the results poured in and the nation swept back and forth between apprehension and hope, I tried to suppress a gut-wrenching feeling that all might be lost. The final tally, narrow as it was, meant that Canada could renew its commitment to federalism and national unity. That was then.
Now, my anxiety is occasioned not by the drama of one critical evening, nor by the potential loss of a province that contributes so much to what makes Canada unique and distinct, but by the erosion of this country’s legacy and values, and by the growing assault on policies based on that legacy. We are again at a pivotal moment in our history and, frankly, many more of us need to stand up for a country based on fairness, opportunity, respect, and balance between the individual and society. The current political culture militates against visionary leadership and active citizen participation, but if Canada is to remain progressive, united, and strong enough to meet tomorrow’s challenges, it must change course.
At stake is the legacy of a century of nation-builders and the cornerstone of the Canadian idea: that our social contract is one of shared destiny. Historical accounts vary, but the least biased agree that the dominant cultures share a destiny with aboriginal peoples, that Quebec and English Canada are more similar than different, and that our cities and rural communities are not at odds with each other. Our destiny is even intertwined with that of our neighbours to the south. Above all, shared destiny is not some sentimental idea. Rather, it is grounded in history and based on the notion that the sum of Canada is greater than its remarkably diverse parts. Against a backdrop of individual and community proclivities and of divergent belief systems, shared destiny has been accepted as necessary for survival, growth, and what we must do for each other to build an exceptional nation.
This sense of Canadian nationhood wasn’t created or recognized overnight. It was slow to evolve, is a work in progress, and is not without blemishes. A look in the rear-view mirror shows the difficulties and imperfections of our journey. The imposition of a head tax on Chinese immigrants and the internment of Japanese-Canadians during World War II are two tragic examples. Our recurring promises to make good on commitments to aboriginal peoples remain unfulfilled. There are many other instances of error and unfinished business. Still, informed by the realization that by working together we can achieve balance, collaboration, and a more evolved sense of inclusion and rights, we have created a more equitable society.
Canada is a work in progress that must be guided by a clear understanding of our past and a determination to build upon it. The land Jacques Cartier discovered almost 500 years ago was one of the most diverse on earth. The continent was home to more nations than Europe has today, over fifty languages, and was a vast archipelago of cultures, religions, and social systems. We did not invent multiculturalism, we joined it in progress. A clash of empires planted English and French settlers alongside each other in an uneasy duality. Two rival nationalities—which had spent centuries fighting each other elsewhere—were here obliged to coexist and to develop a civil society.
Fate cast us with a different alchemy, one where our political culture was based on achieving a delicate equilibrium. While civility was at times grudging, it nonetheless took hold, and the pursuit of balance was informed by a new constituent idea: empathy. This meant a transition from passive tolerance to a more active respect and understanding, and a gradual move from regional autonomy and rugged individualism to a careful attention to the needs of the commons.
At the beginning of the twentieth century, Sir Wilfrid Laurier’s proclamation was that the new century would belong to Canada. Although it took at least fifty years for Canada to be noticed for its commitment to fairness, its balance between nation and enterprise, and for its constructive approach to geopolitics, we had long been known around the world as a large and welcoming community.
By the time Laurier was in office, the greatest human migration in our history was underway. They came first from the highland clearances in Scotland, from the famines of Ireland, and from the teeming cities of Britain. From China, Japan, Eastern Europe, Germany, and Iceland also came adventurers—the dispossessed and the dreamers—all firmly determined to find a land of peace and a future for their children. And more recently, others from South Asia, then Africa, the Caribbean, and elsewhere have sought to find fairness and opportunity in Canada.
I often think of my father, who left Ukraine in the late 1920s in pursuit of liberty and hope; it’s a story told over and over in Canadian history. His timing was not the best as the prairie soil was soon devastated by droughts, which, in turn, severely worsened the impact of the Great Depression. From farmer to labourer, he became a section man for the Canadian National Railway, repairing the lines, carting ice blocks to old boxcars, and clearing huge snowdrifts that blocked the tracks. When my mother and sister finally arrived in Montreal, there to meet them was Mike Romanow, who proudly used his rail pass to accompany them back to their new life in Saskatoon.
The working-class west side of Saskatoon was alive with the sounds, smells, faiths, and faces of other new Canadians. They were primarily Polish, German, Ukrainian, Jewish, Scottish, and English. Tolerance and acceptance were bred into the fibre of our lives. Caring and compassion were almost forced on us, and old-country disputes gave way to a common pursuit of shared opportunities. The Dirty Thirties taught us collaboration. Credit unions, co-operatives, health centres, and crown corporations sprung up as the practical vehicles for immediate survival and for a better future.
