Article
Comment
Leading
Politics
5 min read

Canadians are riled up: who's got the plan to meet the moment?

A restless nation looks to what’s next.

Emerson Csorba works in deep tech, following experience in geopolitics and energy.

Ice hockey players fight in front of a goal
Canadian and American hockey players fight it out.

Canada is on edge. The world feels more volatile than it has in years, and at the center of the political storm is the looming presence of Donald Trump. With a Canadian election called this past Sunday, Canadians are fixated on a single question: who among our leaders is best equipped to deal with the return of Trumpism?  

It is not just about diplomacy; it is about defining Canada's role in a world that is growing more uncertain by the day. 

Right now, two figures are in competition: Mark Carney and Pierre Poilievre. They are, in many ways, opposites. Carney, with his economic expertise and international standing, represents a polished, globally respected leadership style. Poilievre, by contrast, channels raw frustration, presenting himself as the anti-establishment fighter ready to take on both the political elite and external threats.  

The country is divided, with polls showing both men running neck and neck. The choice before Canadians is not just about policy; it is about the kind of leadership style they believe can best meet the challenges ahead. 

Canadians are restless and want a leader with a clear plan - a person who is willing to fight but who also has a strong, actionable vision for the country. Empty rhetoric will not suffice; voters want substance behind the message. They want to know that the elected leaders - and their team - can actually deliver.  

This moment demands a different kind of leadership, one grounded in values and virtues that resonate with Canadians. This is because Canadians want to know that their next leader has substance, given the lack of this over the last decade.  

Among these, community stands out as essential. Communities are not just social units; they are the backbone of resilience. In times of crisis, as I argued in a previous article Canada’s Long Hot Summer, strong communities determine whether a nation weathers the storm or succumbs to decline.  

The plans devised by the Federal government, and in partnership with Canada's thirteen provinces and territories, will need to be delivered at the community level. It will not be government bureaucracies but rather communities pulling Canada through upcoming challenges.  

Community is not just about togetherness - it is about shared responsibility and the willingness to take action. Historically, the strength of Canadians comes from pulling together in times of crisis, not from passive compromise. We built our communities with a sense of collective responsibility, recognizing that our prosperity depends on our willingness to support our neighbors. 

Canadians respect leaders who fight for their values while delivering results. In hockey terms, we admire the hard-working, two-way player who battles in the corners and delivers when it counts - not someone who plays a careful, neutral game. A leader who embodies that spirit, who presents a clear, actionable plan for Canada’s future, will resonate deeply with voters.  

Indeed, the last ten years for Canada have been anything but this: all words and no action.  

There is therefore a delicate balance between channeling people's justified frustrations and a focus on presenting a better future.  

Now is the time to reflect on individual and shared values and virtues. My own personal and political values are those of integrity, honesty, pluralism, self-reliance, ingenuity, and a commitment to protecting the most vulnerable. Values and virtues are not abstract ideals; they are practical necessities in a rapidly changing world.  

For instance, integrity means acting in accordance with one’s principles and delivering on promises. Honesty is about telling hard truths, even when they are inconvenient. Pluralism acknowledges the richness of the Canadian people and the need for different perspectives at the decision-making table. Self-reliance is not about isolation; it is about ensuring Canada can stand on its own economically and politically without over-reliance on others. Ingenuity is about fostering a culture of innovation that keeps Canada competitive in an era of global transformation. And protecting the vulnerable is not charity - it is about creating a country where everyone has the opportunity to contribute meaningfully. 

A leader who can embody these types of principles (or any principles) while also presenting a concrete plan for Canada’s future will resonate with voters. 

While Pierre Poilievre has had difficulty adapting to the election of Donald Trump and is losing ground in the polls to Carney (a previous 20-point lead now reduced to one), he remains in a good position and can achieve victory by adapting his messaging and policies to the world we are in.  

Anger and a focus on the brokenness of Canada is not what Canadians want; dissatisfaction needs to be channeled in a way that is more forward-looking. What can Canadian communities achieve together, based on our shared values and virtues, translating words into actions? Answering this question clearly and authentically is key to Carney's success.

This election is not just about choosing between Carney and Poilievre - it is about what kind of Canada we want to build. Canadians will not be satisfied with vague assurances of moderation or status quo politics.  We do not want the same old, and this is where Carney must be careful - bringing voices into his team from beyond the ancien régime. A plurality of voices is powerful. 

We want a leader who will take decisive action and who brings real change.  

As Canadians, we do not just watch history unfold; we participate in it. We built one of the world’s strongest economies, and now we face the challenge of defending it in an era of deglobalization and shifting alliances. Canada has the resources, the talent, and the spirit to succeed, but we need leadership that understands how to harness that potential. 

The political landscape is shifting, and Canadians are ready for change.  

The question is no longer just who can stand up to Trump; it is who has the plan, the resolve, and the leadership to ensure Canada thrives in an uncertain world. That is the ballot question, and it will define the country’s next chapter. 

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Article
Comment
Identity
Nationalism
5 min read

Which nation are you flying the flag for?

Flag raisings, Ed Sheeran, and my split national identity

Juila is a writer and social justice advocate. 

A Union Jack is draped over a railing, next to a red flag saying Jesus.
A flag demonstration, Portsmouth.
TikTok.

Flags are flying from lamp posts around England. It’s newsworthy here – and yet reports barely note that for those of us from Northern Ireland, we know something of this. A couple of weeks ago, the backlash was loud when Ed Sheeran declared himself ‘culturally Irish’, attributing greater significance to his family’s heritage than being born and raised in England. When it comes to signs of identity, things can quickly get personal. 

In my family – Northern Irish mother, English father, two daughters born in London but most of our childhood spent living just outside Belfast – we’ve been known to debate points to tot up our national identities over the dinner table. Does a place of birth outweigh the school years? When does formation finish – on turning 18 or do the months away at university count for anything? Does it matter how our mixed DNA actually expresses in our hair, our eyes, our stature?  

It’s a game and it’s our deeply felt reality. It’s the years spent with my schoolmates teaching me to correctly say ‘how now brown cow’ – and the arrival in England to find people couldn’t understand me saying my own name. It’s the stomach churn I still feel when I see flags flying, having grown up in a country where banners signal who is in – and therefore who is out. It touches on the questions of belonging and home.  

Irishness seems to travel well. The popularity of the island’s artists and art (from Paul Mescal to Derry Girls) are all signifiers of this cultural moment. But being Irish has always carried more cachet when I’ve been abroad, and I confess that when it has suited, I have led with my more ‘palatable’ half (or quarter or… the family maths is still up for debate). It’s convenient – but there’s also a discomfort in the enduring appeal of ‘Irishness’ outside of the island. It’s an ‘otherness’ that evokes intrigue and warmth, rather than fear. Difference that is more than acceptable, sometimes desirable. Distinct enough to be interesting but unthreatening for often being associated with white skin. 

Underneath the light-hearted arguments of our dinner table is a question of formation. Ed Sheeran attributes his sense of being Irish to the things that he feels have shaped him. It’s in being away from Belfast, living in England, that that I have seen more clearly the ways that Irishness has formed me. Watching Derry Girls with my English husband I freely laughed at what I assumed were universal jokes, only to have to hit pause and explain them. The show unearthed memories – not bad, just not often recalled – of Bill Clinton’s historic visit and the ‘across the barricades’ style gathering of primary schools from different sides of the community. 

Signs and symbols matter. I recently rewatched an episode of tv show, The West Wing, in which the US flag may – or may not – have been burned as part of a trick by magicians Penn and Teller. A media maelstrom follows. Whether or not the flag burned matters, as does the symbolism of this act taking place in the White House, itself an emblem of national identity and power. 

Reflecting on the news, I find myself thinking about the signs of a different kind of kingdom, one that transgresses national borders. In the Bible there's the story of one man who died once for all the world. And in dying, he brought forth his kingdom – one that crosses boundary lines to be truly global. The signs of this kingdom are not division or disconnection but peace and justice, joy and comfort, healing and presence. 

This is not about homogenisation. It’s not about the erosion of cultures, but about the beauty of all represented. As Harvey Kwiyani, a theologian from Malawi, puts it: “We are all welcome to God’s kingdom with our unique cultures. Being in the kingdom of God does not erase our cultural differences… The kingdom of God finds its fullest expression in intercultural mutuality. It is a multicultural kingdom.” The kingdom of God in all its richness – that’s a tempting proposition.  

It’s easy to see that we aren’t living in the fullness of this yet. But the world is not a static place. One metaphor used to describe the kingdom of God is yeast; living cultures filling the dough, making it rise. This is an image that is expansive, generous. The kingdom isn’t wholly realised yet, but we can see more and more of it. 

And like the yeast, we have a role to play in culture changing. As Graham Tomlin wrote following debates about ‘Englishness’, belonging to the kingdom of God means we have an identity not defined by where we live. Being part of this kingdom, we also become active participants in it. Formation is not just about us; we get to play an intentional role in the formation of a kinder world, in the coming of God’s kingdom. In the midst of fear and uncertainty, our ability to engage in such life-giving action offers a concrete hope.   

This is not a defensive position, but a brokering one. The kingdom is bigger than our individual lives, churches or communities; recognising this helps us to break out of a fortress mentality. So far, this century has been marked by fortification. As well as the raising of flags, there have also been walls. At the end of the second world war there were fewer than five border walls; there are now more than 70, most of them built in the last two decades. But the kingdom of God offers a view of home that is not about defence, not about perimeters, or even places. It’s a relationship with God, who made and sustains this world, who crosses the divide to meet each of us. In meeting him, we can partner together in seeing more of his kingdom on this earth.  

Anthropologist Andrew Shyrock defines sovereignty as “manifest in the ability to act as host”. Or to ground it in the day to day: to be able to offer a cup of tea. Perhaps some of the anger about Ed Sheeran’s claim is because of what it seems to either take or reject, pulling towards one nation while turning a back to another. Belonging to the kingdom of God invites us to think beyond what we can have to how we can intentionally serve. It has room to honour heritage and at the same time, it bends forward towards eternity. In the day to day, I find this a comfort: to see formation as not just about the past, but also the power of creative act after creative act in shaping the world that’s coming. 

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If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?
 
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