Nationalistic Fervor

I was at the ballet the other night, yes, the ballet. It was the Canadian Ballet Company’s production of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. Before the ballet started, the orchestra struck up a thundering version of Canada’s national anthem, O Canada.

I knew the ballet had not yet started because I was aware that Tchaikovsky’s masterpiece did not begin with a drum roll. This rendition of O Canada most certainly did.

Almost without hesitation, the entire audience stood and broke into song. How riveting. I do not know the words to the national ditty, and even if I did, I doubt if I could have persuaded my lungs to pump them out. In fact, I was more inclined to sit down, but instead, I stood with the rest of them. When in Rome and all that—and better not to start a fight with the Canadian wife.

When it was over, the crowd broke into a cheer that would rival hockey game exuberance. For a moment, I expected the ballet dancers to come out with helmets and sticks rather than tutus and ballet slippers. “What in hell was that all about?” I thought to myself. Ahh, it is time for Canadian nationalistic fervor!

They have, once again (the first time being in 1812), been attacked by their neighbours to the south, and I’ll be danged if they are going to stand for it! The first time, they burned the White House to the ground. Who knows what they will do this time? (Fact Check Alert: I doubt if the White House was burnt to the ground, and it wasn’t even Canadians who did it—Canada as a country was not yet invented. It was the British who set the place ablaze—but try to tell that to a Canadian.)

Ever since Big Bad Orange Man Trump levied tariffs on poor little ol’ Canada, Canadians have been in a feverish uproar. How dare he? That horrible bully! And rather than look to their leaders (in this case, the venerable Justin Trudeau) for possible causes for the tariff, they rally ‘round the maple leaf flag and cry out about American hostility. Down with America! Up with Canada, O Canada, We Stand on Guard for Thee!

That’ll show ‘em!

Only it won’t. Not even close.

Sad, I know. I like Canada, and particularly Canadians. I am a Canadian citizen as well (I know that does not make me a true Canadian), and I have no qualms with Canada (other than its government, for which I have the same qualms as I have with nearly all governments). But unfortunately, Canada is going to lose this fight with the Great Bwana of America. Trump has issues with Canada and the current trade agreements (although he was the one who originally negotiated the USMCA, which replaced NAFTA, in 2020). Trump’s issues are not only of the fairness of trade between the two countries but also include border security and the alleged illegal passage of fentanyl between The True North and the US.

Needless to say, there is a lot of controversy regarding these Trump demands, but rather than try earnestly to sort them out, the attack on Trump commences. I am no fan of tariffs and trade wars, or even sanctions in time of war, but I am also not an expert on international trade, so I plead ignorance to the details, and subsequent support, of Trump’s actions. But come on, hate America is the response? Really? Dear Canada, you can surely do better than that.

And the people of Canada are eating it up like a chocolate-covered Beavertail (that’s a real thing, by the way). At best, it is a distraction removing the true line of sight from Canada’s atrocious Trudeau government to nationalistic anti-American fervor. Who cares if Canada is run by a delinquent, he is now a hero for standing up to Trump! According to them, Trump’s fentanyl complaint is completely fabricated—it simply is not true (yeah, right, so why pump 1.3 billion dollars into making an effort to minimize it?) And Trump himself created the trade agreement currently in place, so why should he be complaining about that?

Canada’s leadership might actually be playing a different game, one where “winning” isn’t about economic health, but political survival. If they can’t outpunch Trump (and they’d be deluded to think they can), maybe the Liberal brain trust sees a scorched-earth strategy as their ticket. Tank the economy, let Canadians feel the squeeze—higher prices, job losses, a battered loonie—and spin it into a heroic saga: “We stood up to the orange Goliath, and though we bleed, we’re still here.” It’s not about prosperity; it’s about power. A broken country that still chants your name beats a thriving one that boots you out.

There’s precedent for this kind of gambit. Leaders have ridden populist waves through hardship before—think wartime rallying cries or economic crises turned into “us vs. them” narratives. Trudeau’s team (and now Carney’s) could be betting that Canadians, riled up by national pride and anti-Trump fervor, will forgive the pain if it’s packaged as noble resistance. Mark Carney’s gravitas as ex-Bank of Canada governor adds polish to the story—he’s the steady hand guiding the ship through the storm, even if it’s sinking. The Liberals stay in power, ruling a wounded but loyal flock, while Trump’s the villain in the history books.

The national anthem incident at the ballet the other night freaked me out. Not so much because I don’t like national anthems played at sporting events (yes, the ballet is definitely an athletic spectacle), but because nationalistic fervor is dangerous. It is a tool used by those in power to coerce people to go bonkers for some fabricated cause. Personally, I remember this in 1968, at the height of the Vietnam War in America, although there was little nationalistic fervor at that point in the history of the conflict, the government certainly did not refrain from efforts to conjure it up. It is never a good thing; in times of war, it is used to justify killing fellow humans “in the name of patriotism.” In times of peace, it is used to dehumanize the citizens of another country, so that the country’s actions, and that country’s leadership, become the target of pure hate.

At a little coffee shop two doors down from my office this morning a woman ordered a “Canadacano” because she didn’t want to say “Americano”—if she knew I was an American, she probably would have thrown it in my face.

Todd Hayen PhD is a registered psychotherapist practicing in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. He holds a PhD in depth psychotherapy and an MA in Consciousness Studies. He specializes in Jungian, archetypal, psychology. Todd also writes for his own substack, which you can read here

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