Merci and thanks

It’s Canada Day—the Canadian national holiday, equivalent to our Independence Day—and it seems only right and proper to consider what good neighbors Canadians are—to us and the entire world. Especially in light of the Kleptocrat’s recent completely delusional ranting about how mean Prime Minister Justin Trudeau was to him at the G-7 meeting (which he didn’t want to go to anyway, because he knew it wasn’t going to be as much fun as haring off for his Nobel-worthy-in-his-own-mind photo-op with Kim Jong-Un), and his slapping ludicrous tariffs on Canadian products under the completely ludicrous pretense of “national security”.

I could get silly and talk about Leslie Nielsen or one of my favorite TV shows of all time, Due South. But I’ve already done that.

And Canadians are way more than wacky comedians and upright Mounties in a cynical American city. They’re even more than mail-order pharmacies and refuges for cabernet-toting discontents fleeing whichever administration gets into office down here.

They are pretty much in every way the kind of neighbor you’d like to have on your street. They don’t throw loud parties, or park huge SUVs in their driveway, or toss their clapped-out washing machines in their weed-infested front yard.

They quietly go about their lives as conscientious citizens of the world, picking up the trash they find (and disposing of it responsibly) and pitching in whenever asked to help set the worst things to rights. They define the term “stand-up guys”.

Three things in particular I’m thinking about:

Teheran, 1979. In the midst of the chaos of the overthrow of the Shah, six American diplomats were given shelter in the Canadian embassy for 79 days, until they could be extracted by a joint Canadian-CIA mission. It was an act of both neighborly kindness and extreme courage for the Canadians to hide the Americans, especially at a time when it was clear that “diplomatic courtesies” didn’t rate high on the Iranian revolutionary priority list.

The Canadians risked personal safety and national policy to help out six Americans, who’d probably been trash-talking hockey teams right up until the embassy takeover. They didn’t hesitate and they didn’t flinch.

My second example of Canadian rectitude is Lt. Gen. Roméo A. Dallaire. Dallaire had just about the worst job of the 1990s: Force Commander of United Nations Assistance Mission Rwanda (UNAMIR), from 1993 to 1996. During the worst genocide of the second half of the 20^th Century, Dallaire commanded forces without resources, with limited remit and  no backing from his political masters. I cannot believe the fortitude of a man who still managed to save thousands of the people under his care.

Although at a terrible, terrible cost. Washington Post reporter Ken Ringle told the story much better than I could, so I’ll let him do it. It was an impossible command, an impossible remit and an impossible expectation. But Dallaire took it on.

I can just picture most American generals after that posting—speaking engagements, management consulting, appearances on talk shows, joining a racist régime and presiding over the destruction of American values. Dallaire went back to Canada, where PTSD led him to a suicide attempt. His big public outing has been to testify at the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda against Colonel Théoneste Bagosora, who was subsequently convicted of war crimes. He also advocated for children affected by war—something he’s an expert in.

Canadians at every level have consistently shown their decency and humanity and neighborliness. On September 11^th 2001, ordinary citizens of the small Newfoundland town of Gander opened their homes and their hearts to more than 7000 air passengers and crew whose planes had been diverted to their airport following the terrorist attacks in New York and Washington, D.C. They fed, housed and cared for the sojourners—as, frankly, they’ve done for more than 150 years.

Canada, after all, was the last stop on the Underground Railroad, where escaping slaves could find the guarantee of freedom and safety that wasn’t available to them in the United States.

In the musical world, Canada has given us Leonard Cohen, Joni Mitchell, Gordon Lightfoot, Sarah McLachlan. Imma let Justin Bieber, Celine Dion and Nickelback slide. Their writers include Margaret Atwood (whose The Handmaid’s Tale has taken on new elements of horror as it turned out to be more prescient than we though when she first published it), Michael Ondaatje, Louise Penny, Robertson Davies, Alice Munro.

The entertainment industry has been enriched by (for instance) directors Arthur Hiller, David Cronenberg, Atom Egoyan, Paul Haggis, Ivan Reitman; and actors Nathan Fillion, Nick Mancuso, Genviève Bujold, Dan Ackroyd, Anna Paquin, John Candy, Sandra Oh, Rick Moranis, Raymond Burr, Donald Sutherland, Jim Carrey, Graham Greene, Paul Gross… Canada is where American production companies go to film movies and TV shows that look like the States, but don’t cost like the States. Where would Star Trek: TOS be without William Shatner and James Doohan?

Also, I got two words for you: Tommy Chong.

I cannot express my admiration for the country that produced people like this. You don’t think of them a lot, because good neighbors don’t get in your face. But you’re always really, really glad they’re there.