Canada's Biggest Influence

The ideologies underlying Canadian concepts like peacekeeping and multiculturalism both reflect and shape the country.

Who owns Canada? It's an interesting question, not least because there are so many possible answers. There are the usual suspects: national magnates like the Irvings, the Sobeys, The Thompsons, or the Aspers (for a longer list see Who Owns Canada Now by Diane Francais). Or perhaps we might look to foreign investors (mainly from the United States) or international institutions (the WTO, the IMF, etc.) and trade agreements like NAFTA, which effect policies that determine ownership and the distribution of wealth.

In the past the question of ownership was more transparent, with the British Empire serving as a near divine symbol of authority and control—though it was not without its competitors (e.g., the French, the Americans, etc.). With decolonization and the spread of post-industrial and, later, neo-liberal capitalism, the question of ownership became more diffuse. Radical deregulation and privatization paved the way for the rise of the multi-national corporation, where allegiance to “the bottom line” trumps allegiance to country, as seen, for example, with the recent American takeovers of Molson and the Hudson’s Bay Co., Canada’s two oldest companies. While these changes in ownership might inflame nationalist sentiment, simply talking about them does not really get us to the “heart “or core mechanisms of control. A more potent but less obvious aspect of ownership exists not on the level market share or political power, but in the realm of ideology.

Ideology is that strange liminal space between myth and “reality” that gets embodied in certain concepts or values that come to represent markers of our identity. In Canada, we might think of “peacekeeping,” “multiculturalism,” or, more recently, “arctic sovereignty” as competing signifiers of national character. Here, as in most other cases, ideology is used both as a “model of” and a “model for” reality, to borrow a concept from the anthropologist Clifford Geertz.

As a “model of” reality, “peace-keeping” reflects both the initiative of Lester B. Pearson in the Suez Crisis of 1957, as well as Canada’s subsequent role in other UN interventions, such as the Rwandan genocide of the 1990s.

As a “model for” reality, it shifts from a descriptive concept to a prescriptive value, where “peacekeeping” becomes a symbol of national identity, of “who we are” or who we would like to be. In this transition from describing a state of affairs to prescribing what we ought to be, we move deeper into the fuzzy realm of ideology.

The potential danger of ideology is that it is often unrecognized as such, and in this way can come to “own” us on a level of emotion or sentimentality. If people are unable to recognize those symbols or slogans that sway them, they are less in control of their past, present, and future. So, for example, while it is true that Canada has participated in “peace-keeping” missions, exactly what this entails (i.e., what sides are favoured and whose interests are being served) is a question that’s rarely asked. In our current position as a junior partner to U.S. imperialism (and yes, this is an ideologically loaded statement), some argue that we should return to our former role as “peacekeepers.” Here the notion of “peace-keeping” becomes an ideological weapon that can be used for or against certain policies, such as the role of Canadian troops in Afghanistan.

What is obscured in the transition from the concept of “peacekeeping” to its so-called value as a marker of national identity, is the implication that Canada’s role has always been a neutral one on the world stage (for a decent critique see, The Black Book of Canadian Foreign Policy by Yves Engler) and that a return to “peacekeeping” is somehow a just and acceptable option.

The uses of ideology are intimately tied to centres of control and power (e.g., who owns the media?). Although there is no monopoly on how ideology is shaped and re-shaped as it enters into the public mind, the crucial question is how it defines the limits of what is imaginable, and thus of the ways we construct our “reality.” Ideology can be open and reflective, promoting critical debate and productive forms of social transformation, or it can be rigid and controlling, in effect “owning” our sentiments and stifling our ability to think. Here the oft-used phrase “support our troops” is a good example of an emotional cudgel that is consistently used to bludgeon critique and numb the mind.

Perhaps more than raw political power and market share then, we might pay closer attention to the ideological landscape within Canada (i.e., where it comes from and how it’s used), for it is here where sentiments are shaped and allegiances are made, providing the psychological battleground for who owns what.