CAPTAINS OF COMPLACENCY

Why are we so timid? Do Canadians actually deserve to live in Canada?

Amid the groaning banquet of objects and artifacts, a gentle awakening awaits visitors to the new Canadian History Hall in the Canadian Museum of History. It is Expo 67.

An exhibit and film, playing on a loop, trigger a cascade of memory. They recall that moment in Montreal when we staged the most successful world’s fair of the 20th century. It was Canada’s glorious, crowded hour, the centrepiece of a year-long national celebration of our centennial in 1967.

The pavilions. Habitat 67. The Minirail and miniskirts. The theme was “Man and His World.” No one apologized. In imagination, the fair was to the world then what London’s Great Exhibition represented in 1851. Indeed, Expo 67 was a sprawling Crystal Palace, set on artificial islands in the St. Lawrence, heralding achievements in science, technology, health, exploration, architecture, the arts and other fields. It was our own theatre of exotica.

Having visited Expo 34 times as a starry-eyed sixthgrader, I was overcome by sentimentality and wistfulness by the display at the museum. Why? Because Expo 67 could not happen in today’s Canada. Because we don’t aspire to much anymore. Because, on our 150th birthday, Canada has many fine qualities but ambition — a coursing, creative ambition — is no longer among them.

Oh, how far we have come in the last half-century: more people (20 million to 36 million); more diversity (20 per cent of Canadian are born elsewhere); greater unity (separatism is in eclipse); deeper humanity (a sensitivity to Jews, blacks and Indigenous Peoples in a country once soiled by anti-Semitism and residential schools). In a world of terrorism, populism and radicalism, we have peace, order and stability. This is extraordinary.

For all that, we have lost something. It’s an ability to see ourselves the way a postwar Canada could: doing things, such as Expo, honouring our history, imagining something bigger.

By 1967, Canada had been working feverishly since 1945. We built schools and universities, laced the country with a sea-to-sea highway and inter-city trains, dug subways, created museums, theatres and arenas. Lester Pearson introduced (or enhanced) old age pensions, Medicare, a new flag, student loans, labour rights, liberal immigration and the Order of Canada. Pierre Trudeau’s Just Society liberalized divorce and homosexuality and legislated official bilingualism.

In a heroic act of nationbuilding, Trudeau patriated the Constitution with a Charter of Rights and Freedoms. Brian Mulroney embraced free trade and a national sales tax. Jean Chrétien established 2,000 research chairs.

Stephen Harper’s government, by contrast, celebrated the War of 1812 (barely mentioned in the new Canada Hall) and the Arctic, but was seized by little else beyond lowering taxes. The Conservatives viewed the approaching sesquicentennial like the visit of an alcoholic uncle.

The Liberals have failed to declare a national project worthy of the milestone. The Liberal government invests in infrastructure, plans pipelines and announces an indigenous centre across from Parliament. This we call ambition.

In 2017, Canadians are captains of complacency. We borrow more money than ever and give less. Among leading industrialized nations, we are slipping — less rich and less productive than we were. Sacrifice is passé. We congratulate ourselves for taking some 40,000 Syrian refugees, forgetting that a smaller country took some 69,000 Vietnamese boat people in the late 1970s.

Why are we so timid? We could have prettier cities. We could have faster trains. We could have better universities if we cared less for mass education than higher education. We could have European health care. We could have an elected Senate or no Senate, but we’re afraid — heaven forbid — to reopen the Constitution. We could abolish a distant, antiquated monarchy but that, too, would take a difficult conversation.

We are what we are: a benevolent, decent people living in a rich land beside a good neighbour, insulated by three oceans. We have never known civil war, occupation or famine and it makes us more life insurers than risk takers. So we rest on our laurels. We are hard on our politicians, unfairly so, thinking they are paid too much, do too little and live too well on our dime. Increasingly, we are stiflingly politically correct.

We should, on this birthday, celebrate so much: our moderation and aversion to extremes; our generosity toward newcomers; our tradition of good, clean government, regardless of party; our equanimity in adversity and life’s snowstorms; our creativity in letters.

While we are no boy scout in the world — we sell arms to regimes like Saudi Arabia and look the other way — we remain a voice of liberal internationalism. We have fought when necessary, but never alone, shrewdly avoiding wars in Vietnam and Iraq. We believe, stubbornly if idealistically, in collective security, free trade and multilateral institutions, even if Donald Trump doesn’t.

But our commitment to comfort begets mediocrity. It makes us unwilling or unable to seek distinction. We have so much bounty: land, water, woods, wind, oil, minerals. What a birthright, this land of plenty!

Patriotism? For most, it’s waving the flag on July 1, wearing red mittens during the Olympic Games, and buying a double-double at Tim Hortons. Voting? Volunteerism? Charity? National service? That’s for others.

If you want patriots, look to Arthur Milnes, a tireless chronicler of our prime ministers, defender of institutions and booster of Canada; Mark O’Neill, who ably guided the new galleries of the Museum of History to completion; Désirée McGraw, a reformer bringing renewal to Pearson College on Vancouver Island; Cathy Beehan, who, as founding head of Action Canada, directed a generation of rising Canadians toward an idea of a larger Canada. They are what it means to be Canadian.

When we want, we are the best of the world: in hockey and other winter sports, in telecommunications, in national parks, in managing immigration, in finding the civility to live with each other in this cold, vast country. For inspiration, consider the success of the Scandinavians and the Dutch, pushing boundaries in design, environmental innovation, the arts, social welfare and international assistance. There is much we can learn.

On our 150th anniversary, let us ask with honesty: Are we worthy of Canada? Do we appreciate our gifts of history, geography and prosperity? Is Canada wasted on Canadians?

The greatest antidote to the contented Canadian is ambition. It is to think big: to support culture; to encourage innovative urban planning; to close the digital divide; to reconcile — fairly, fully and finally — with indigenous Canada; to give our citizenship real meaning so immigrants embrace it; to act — not just talk — in the world.

So, on July 1, let us also ask ourselves with humility: Who are we? What are we? How does good become great, in the spirit of Expo 67?

After all, if our reach cannot exceed our grasp, what’s a Canada for? Andrew Cohen is a journalist, professor and author of The Unfinished Canadian: The People We Are. Email: andrewzcohen@yahoo.ca. twitter: @Andrew_Z_Cohen

Patriotism? For most, it’s waving the flag on July 1, wearing red mittens during the Olympic Games, and buying a double-double at Tim Hortons.