Canada’s Difficulty in Dealing with the Victim-in-Chief

There were a lot of raised eyebrows in the audience when Pete Hoekstra, the American ambassador to Canada, complained at a meeting of the Canadian International Council last month that Canada was not as passionate as the United States about the bilateral relationship. His cited as evidence the continued use of the phrase Elbows Up! by some politicians, the government’s suggestion it might look outside the United States for expensive new fighter jets, and the frequent assertion by the Canadian media that the two countries were in a trade war. In his telling, Canada was spoiling for a fight while the administration headed by Donald Trump just wanted to be friends.

At first glance, the ambassador’s explanation of why bilateral relations had curdled defies logic. He dismissed the idea that Mr. Trump’s threat to make Canada the 51^st state had sparked the Elbows Up! campaign, saying there was nothing he could say to those Canadians who wanted to “dwell on that issue.” As for the imposition of punitive tariffs on Canadian exports, principally steel and aluminum, he said it was nothing personal. Besides, Canada was now in a better position to sell to the Americans because other countries had been hit with even steeper tariffs. The man tasked with building the bilateral relationship seemed puzzled Canadians were not congratulating themselves on their good fortune.

Yet there is a way of making some sense out of what seems a warped version of reality. Mr. Trump, and by extension his ambassadors like Mr. Hoekstra, are borrowing a successful tactic used by their country’s founders – portraying themselves as victims. As the British discovered 250 years ago when they were negotiating a deal to end the American Revolution, and Canada is discovering now, it is a difficult tactic to deal if you also want to maintain an economic relationship with the United States. 

Embracing perceived victimhood, justified or not, confers all sorts of advantages on the self-declared victim. This is true in our personal lives as well in politics and in international relations. It enables the self-defined victim to claim the moral high ground, demand restitution for perceived wrongs, and justify retribution, even if it is disproportionate or even illegal. It allows the victim to brush Inconvenient facts to one side or as is frequently the case with the American president, blame them on a hostile media. Proclaiming victimhood smooths the way for actions outside of international norms, like challenging the sovereignty of a neighbouring country.

Mr. Trump has used victimhood to great effect domestically, persuading aggrieved supporters that they share something in common. It seems ludicrous that the billionaire property developer turned president equates his suffering with that of his supporters who worry about paying bills, getting a job, or just keeping their health care. It seems equally unbelievable that they readily accept his claim. Yet studies have shown that playing the victimhood chord resonates deeply with people who feel they have been wronged, even if the circumstances are vastly different. What’s important to them is that someone acknowledges their grievances and pledges to right those wrongs. Looked at in this context, the words Mr. Trump used at the start of his 2024 campaign make sense. “In 2016 I declared I am your voice,” he told a cheering crowd. “Today I add: I am your warrior. I am your justice. And for those who have been wronged and betrayed, I am your retribution.”

The American president has long accused other countries of taking advantage of the United States. In 2016, he accused China of “raping our country.” In his second, unfettered presidency, he is acting on this belief, using the language of victimhood, and broadening his targets. His remarks last April, when he imposed global tariffs, are a good example of how his rhetoric has become super-charged. “For decades, our country has been looted, pillaged, raped and plundered by nations near and far, both friend and foe alike,” he said, adding that steelworkers, autoworkers, and farmers “have watched in anguish as foreign leaders have stolen our jobs, foreign cheaters have ransacked our factories, and foreign scavengers have torn apart our once-beautiful American dream.”

Claiming victimhood has deep roots in the United States. Benjamin Franklin and the revolutionary leaders used it 250 years ago when they portrayed Britain as a malicious, murderous, and tyrannical enemy bent on “enslaving” the brave and industrious American colonists who just wanted to be left alone (the British saw them as tax dodgers who did not want to pay for their own defence). The Declaration of Independence is a long list of grievances and goes on at length about the “repeated injuries and usurpations” of King George III. The men who signed the Declaration accused the king of trying to establish “an absolute Tyranny over these States.” Hyperbole is nothing new.

During the peace negotiations in Paris to end the revolution, Franklin demanded Britain give Canada to the United States as compensation for what he described as its cruel treatment of Americans, including “scalping and burning parties.” He refused to acknowledge that Americans used these same tactics. To bolster his position, he published a fake supplement to the Boston Independent Chronicle newspaper, which carried a fictitious story about bales of American scalps being given as a gift to the British governor of Canada. He sent copies of his fake newspaper to his friends in Britain, where it was reprinted in the British press. Fake news is also nothing new. Yet when British negotiators raised the matter of compensating loyalists, who had been tarred and feathered, or lost their lands or their lives to rebellious Americans, Franklin would not hear of it. In his mind, the Americans were the true victims.

Britain bowed to many of the American demands but stopped short of giving them all of Canada. Still, when the borders were finally agreed, the British had given up a sizeable chunk of what they considered Canada, the part that extended below the Great Lakes to the confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. They also granted access to American fishermen to the rich waters off the east coast of British North America. France, which had given the revolutionaries crucial aid in their fight with Britain, was appalled. “[T] he English buy the peace, more than they make it,” said the French foreign minister, Charles Gravier, Comte de Vergennes. “Their concessions, in fact, as much as to the boundaries, as to the fisheries, and the loyalists, exceed all that I should have thought possible.”

Britain made these concessions because maintaining access to the growing American market was important to British merchants. They wanted to resume trade relations where they had been before the American Revolution. This was no time for a display of wounded feelings or an argument over the merits of the case. If the self-proclaimed victim demanded to be placated, then that is what the British government had to do, as far as comfortably possible.

The situation Prime Minister Mark Carney finds himself in has elements in common with this earlier episode. Mr. Trump is loudly proclaiming that the United States is a victim, with Canada as one of its abusers, and is demanding compensation in the form of market access and investment. At the same time, the president has stepped outside international norms by threatening Canada’s sovereignty with his talk of Canada becoming the 51^st state. He raised the matter in his meeting with Mr. Carney at the White House earlier this month, suggesting “a merger of Canada and the United States.” Just as worrying was his comment to the top American leaders in late September that it made sense for Canada to become the 51^st state.

Where does this leave Mr. Carney? Canada is more dependent on trade access to the United States than Britain was at the end of the American Revolution. It still had much of its empire. Yet Mr. Carney risks losing support if he is perceived to be bowing to some of Mr. Trump’s more outrageous demands. The Liberals won office on the back of the Elbows Up! campaign. 

At his most recent meeting with the American president, Mr. Carney appeared to be following the most common advice for dealing with self-proclaimed victims: Talk to the other party, acknowledge their sense of grievance, avoid being adversarial, and strive to find common ground. Mr. Carney did not bristle at Mr. Trump’s idea of a merger. Instead, he noted the president’s peace-making attempts, hinted at future investment in the United States, and talked up the benefits of the two countries work together. Still, he did not emerge with any special deal for Canada. That will likely require that Canada make concessions to America’s victim-in-chief.