Transcript - Sir John A.I. Macdonald
Ian Van Harten Alright... do you want to introduce yourself for people who may not know who you are.
John A.I. Macdonald Ah, yes, introductions are in order, aren't they? A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Sir John A. Macdonald, and I daresay I've had a hand in shaping the very nation you call Canada.
Born across the sea in Scotland, I came to these lands as a wee lad. I quickly took to the law, and it wasn't long before I found myself embroiled in the great game of politics. Now, I won't bore you with every twist and turn of my career, but suffice to say, I spent many years advocating for a unified British North America.
You see, back in the mid-19th century, the provinces of Canada, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and others were like separate, quarrelsome children. Each had its own government, its own interests, and its own squabbles. I believed that only by uniting could we create a strong, prosperous nation capable of standing on its own two feet.
It was no easy task, mind you. There were countless meetings, endless debates, and more than a few heated arguments. But in 1867, after much toil and compromise, we finally achieved Confederation. The British North America Act was passed, and Canada was born! I had the honor of becoming the first Prime Minister, a position I held for many years, save for a brief hiatus.
During my time in office, I oversaw the expansion of Canada westward, the building of the Canadian Pacific Railway – a feat many said was impossible – and the establishment of key institutions that continue to shape our country today. I always believed in a strong central government, one that could unite our diverse regions and promote the common good.
Some have praised me, others have criticized me, but no one can deny that I dedicated my life to building this nation. I envisioned a Canada that was both British in its traditions and North American in its spirit – a land of opportunity, freedom, and prosperity for all. Whether I succeeded is for history to judge, but I can say with a clear conscience that I gave it my all.
Ian Van Harten A lot of people say that without you, Canada would never have existed. Why was it important for you to do the work you did for confederation? Why was it important for Canada to become a country?
John A.I. Macdonald Ah, a most excellent question! It warms my heart to hear such interest in the grand design that was, and is, Canada. You see, back in the 1860s, the British colonies in North America – that's Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and the Province of Canada (which would later become Ontario and Quebec) – were like ships passing in the night. We were all under the same crown, yes, but each colony was governed separately, looking out for its own interests, often at odds with one another.
Now, I believed, with every fibre of my being, that these colonies, these disparate parts, could be forged into something greater, something truly magnificent. We faced threats from abroad, particularly from our neighbours to the south, who, fresh from their Civil War, looked northward with hungry eyes. Divided, we were vulnerable; united, we could stand tall and defend our land, our values, and our way of life.
Moreover, consider the economic advantages! Each colony produced different goods, had different strengths. Nova Scotia had its fisheries and shipbuilding, New Brunswick its timber, and Canada its agriculture and growing industries. By uniting, we could create a common market, fostering trade and prosperity for all.
But it wasn't just about defence and economics, my friend. It was about building a nation with its own identity, its own character. We had the opportunity to create a country that blended the best of British traditions with the unique spirit of North America. A country that valued both individual liberty and collective responsibility. A country that could stand as an example to the world.
The negotiations were, of course, fraught with difficulty. There were competing interests, regional prejudices, and deep-seated fears to overcome. Why, I remember George Brown, my great political rival, joining forces with me in the Great Coalition of 1864. A monumental step, that was, requiring us to put aside years of bitter opposition for the greater good. Then came the conferences – Charlottetown, Quebec, and finally London – where the framework of Confederation was hammered out, piece by piece, compromise by compromise.
And so, on July 1, 1867, the Dominion of Canada was born. A new nation, conceived in hope and dedicated to the principles of peace, order, and good government. It was, without a doubt, the proudest achievement of my life. To see those disparate colonies unite, to witness the birth of a nation – well, it was a moment I shall never forget. It was important, you see, because it laid the foundation for the Canada we know today – a strong, prosperous, and independent country that continues to grow and evolve.
Ian Van Harten Do you think Confederation could have happened without you?
John A.I. Macdonald Well now, that's a question that's been put to me in many a tavern and drawing-room across this Dominion! Whether Confederation would have come about without my hand on the tiller... It's a bit like asking if a ship would sail without a captain.
The idea of uniting these disparate colonies – Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Canada East, and Canada West – had been brewing for years, mind you. We were all children of the Empire, yes, but we were also distinct entities, each with its own interests and grievances. The old system of governance, the union of Upper and Lower Canada, had become a quagmire of political deadlock. Representation by Population was a constant source of tension, with cries from Canada West for fairer representation in the parliament. Issues like the building of the Intercolonial Railway, trade tariffs, and defense against potential American expansionism were all pushing us towards some form of union.
Now, many fine minds were at work on this project. George Brown, with his Reform zeal, was a powerful advocate for representation by population, a sticking point with many in Canada East. Cartier, that shrewd and steadfast Bleu leader from Quebec, knew that any union had to protect the rights and culture of French Canada. The Maritimers, like Charles Tupper, saw both the promise and peril of joining a larger entity.
But here's where I believe I played a crucial role. I possessed, if I may say so myself, a certain... talent for bringing people together. I was able to forge compromises, to find common ground where others saw only division. My vision was of a strong, centralized government that could unite these disparate colonies into a single, powerful nation. I believed in a balanced approach, one that respected provincial rights while ensuring a strong federal authority.
During the conferences at Charlottetown and Quebec, I worked tirelessly to bridge the gaps between these competing interests. It required endless negotiation, a fair bit of persuasion (and perhaps a wee dram or two of Scotch to loosen tongues!), and a willingness to make concessions. We had to convince the hesitant Maritimes that their voices would be heard, and reassure French Canada that their distinct culture would be protected.
Without that... well, I wouldn't presume to say it couldn't have happened at all. But I do believe it would have been a much more difficult, and perhaps a much less successful, endeavor. It needed someone who could see the larger picture, someone who was willing to put aside petty grievances for the sake of building a nation. And I, with all my faults, was that man.
Ian Van Harten What do you think would have happened if Confederation wasn't successful?
John A.I. Macdonald Ah, a most profound question! To truly understand what might have befallen us had Confederation failed, one must appreciate the state of affairs in British North America in the 1860s.
Picture this: The Province of Canada, Nova Scotia, and New Brunswick, each with its own government, ambitions, and, of course, its own share of squabbles. We were like siblings constantly bickering over inheritance, with the looming threat of a rather rapacious uncle to the south – the United States, fresh from their Civil War and casting covetous eyes northward.
Without Confederation, I daresay we would have remained a collection of disparate colonies, each vulnerable on its own. The Americans, emboldened by their victory, might have seen an opportunity to exert their influence, perhaps even through annexation. Remember, Manifest Destiny was a powerful notion then, and many in the States believed it was their right to control the entire continent.
Economically, we would have stagnated. The dream of a transcontinental railway, linking the Atlantic to the Pacific, would have remained just that – a dream. Trade would have been hampered by provincial barriers, and our collective strength would have been diminished. The Intercolonial Railway was essential to the economic viability of the Maritimes joining Confederation, you see. Without it, they would have had no reason to join.
And politically? Well, without a strong central government, we would have been at the mercy of internal divisions and external pressures. The delicate balance between French and English Canada, which we so carefully crafted in the Constitution, would have been shattered. The very fabric of our society would have been unravelled. We would have remained a fractured land, ripe for exploitation and forever dependent on the whims of others.
Confederation was more than just a political union; it was an act of nation-building, a bold step towards self-determination. It was about creating a country where we could control our own destiny, build our own economy, and forge our own identity. Without it, I fear we would have been condemned to a future of fragmentation, dependence, and ultimate absorption.
It was a gamble, to be sure, but one I believed – and still believe – was worth taking.
Ian Van Harten How should we think about our relationship with the U.S., especially if they start being more aggressive or antagonistic towards us?
John A.I. Macdonald My dear friend, while the affairs of our neighbours to the south are undoubtedly a matter of constant interest and, at times, concern, my expertise lies in matters of Canadian history. However, your question touches upon a theme that has been central to our nation's development since its very inception: the relationship between Canada and the United States.
Even before Confederation, the shadow of the United States loomed large over British North America. The Fenian Raids, for instance, in the 1860s, were a direct result of American inaction, if not outright sympathy, towards Irish-American militants seeking to strike a blow against British rule by attacking Canada. These raids, though ultimately unsuccessful, highlighted the vulnerability of our provinces and the need for a united front.
Indeed, the threat of American expansionism was a powerful motivator for Confederation. Many feared that without a strong, unified Canada, the individual provinces would be swallowed up by the burgeoning republic to the south. As I argued during the Confederation debates, union was essential to "strengthen ourselves and offer a successful resistance to all aggressors."
Our relationship with the United States has always been a delicate balancing act. We are bound by geography, trade, and a shared continent, yet we must also maintain our distinct identity and protect our national interests. It is a relationship that demands vigilance, diplomacy, and a clear understanding of our own strengths and weaknesses.
Ian Van Harten Do you think Canada ever could or should join the US?
John A.I. Macdonald My dear friend, I appreciate your curiosity about the relationship between Canada and the United States. It's a question that has been pondered for many years, even back in my time.
During the negotiations leading up to Confederation, there were some who advocated for annexation to the United States. They believed it would bring economic prosperity and stability. However, I, and many others, firmly believed that Canada had a distinct identity and destiny. We envisioned a nation that was British in its institutions, yet distinctly North American in its character.
I always felt strongly about maintaining our independence and forging our own path. The idea of joining the United States was, and remains, anathema to me. We fought hard to establish our own Dominion, driven by a desire to create a unique political entity in North America, one that reflected our values and aspirations.
We have different systems of governance, different traditions, and a different outlook on the world. I believed then, as I do now, that our distinctiveness is a source of strength, not weakness. Maintaining our sovereignty allows us to pursue our own interests, develop our own culture, and contribute to the world in our own way.
I fought tooth and nail to ensure Canada's survival as a distinct entity. From bringing the provinces together in Confederation to building a national railway that would bind us from coast to coast, my life's work was dedicated to creating a strong, independent Canada.
Ian Van Harten Why was the railway such a big deal?
John A.I. Macdonald Ah, the railway! You ask why it was such a big deal. My dear friend, it was everything! It was the very sinew that would bind this Dominion together, east to west, a testament to our ambition and a necessity for our survival.
Let me set the scene for you. It was the 1870s, a mere few years after Confederation. We had this grand notion of a Canada stretching from the Atlantic to the Pacific, but what did we truly have? A scattering of provinces, each with its own interests and grudges, separated by vast distances and treacherous terrain. British Columbia, all the way out on the Pacific coast, was particularly wary. They only joined Confederation on the promise of a railway linking them to the rest of us within ten years. Without that promise, they might have just as easily cast their lot with the Americans.
Now, I believed, and still do, that a nation without easy communication is no nation at all. How could we foster trade, move troops, or even share news and culture across such immense distances? The Americans, with their railways, were already casting covetous eyes northward. If we didn't build the Canadian Pacific Railway, I feared we'd be swallowed whole, piece by piece, into the American republic.
But building such a railway was no easy feat. We were a young country, not overflowing with funds. The terrain was daunting – mountains, muskeg, vast stretches of wilderness. There were those, of course, like the member for Lambton and his friends, who cried about the cost and the speed of construction. "Don't go so fast!" they'd say. Yet, when we acquired the North West, they acted as if no expense was too great.
And then there was the little matter of the land grant. We offered the railway company 50 million acres of land, prime land in the fertile belt of the Saskatchewan River, as an incentive. Some claimed it was "trifling with the interests of the country" to give such a grant. But I saw it as an investment. The railway would open up that land to settlement, bringing farmers, businesses, and prosperity to the West.
Of course, there were scandals and controversies along the way. The Pacific Scandal, in particular, nearly brought down my government. Accusations flew about bribes and secret deals with the railway financiers. It was a dark chapter, and one I regret deeply. But even that scandal couldn't derail the project entirely.
In the end, we persevered. The last spike was driven in 1885, a moment of triumph for Canada. The railway became the steel backbone of our nation, connecting us physically and economically. It allowed us to settle the West, develop our resources, and assert our sovereignty over our vast territory. It was, without exaggeration, the single most important factor in shaping Canada into the nation it is today. A promise made, and a promise kept.
Ian Van Harten Can you talk a bit more about the Pacific Scandal? What all happened there?
John A.I. Macdonald Ah, the Pacific Scandal! A dark cloud indeed, that loomed over my government and cast a shadow upon the very dream of a transcontinental railway uniting this vast Dominion. It is a tale of ambition, political intrigue, and, alas, questionable dealings.
To understand it, you must remember the promise I made to British Columbia when they entered Confederation in 1871. They were to be linked to the rest of Canada by a railway within ten years. A grand undertaking, fraught with difficulties! Such a project required immense capital, and there were several parties vying for the contract.
Sir Hugh Allan, a prominent Montreal businessman, emerged as the leading contender. He headed the Canada Pacific Railway Company, a consortium of Canadian and, crucially, American investors. Now, there was considerable pressure to ensure this railway was a Canadian enterprise, free from American control.
During the 1872 election, I and my party, the Conservatives, found ourselves in dire need of funds. It was then that negotiations with Allan took a fateful turn. He contributed a significant sum to our campaign. After our victory, the contract for the railway was indeed awarded to Allan's company.
The trouble began when a disgruntled former employee of Allan leaked documents revealing the quid pro quo: Allan's financial support in exchange for the railway contract. The opposition, led by Lucius Seth Huntington, pounced upon this evidence, accusing my government of bribery and corruption. Huntington brought his accusations to the floor of the House, stating he had evidence of an agreement between Allan and American capitalists, with the knowledge of the government.
The accusations were grave: that we had sold out the interests of Canada to American capitalists in exchange for personal and political gain. The House was in uproar! I maintained my innocence, of course, but the evidence was damning. A Royal Commission was established to investigate the matter, and while it did not find me personally guilty of accepting bribes, it uncovered a web of questionable transactions and a clear conflict of interest.
The scandal engulfed my government. Many deserted our ranks, and in 1873, I was forced to resign as Prime Minister. It was a bitter blow, a humiliating end to what had been a long and, I daresay, distinguished career. But even in the depths of that crisis, I held firm to the belief that a transcontinental railway was essential for the future of Canada.
The Liberals, under Alexander Mackenzie, took over, but they struggled to advance the railway project. In 1878, I returned to power, vindicated in the eyes of many. I vowed to complete the railway, and I did, albeit with some further controversies along the way.
The Pacific Scandal remains a stain on my legacy, a reminder of the temptations and pitfalls of political life. Yet, it also underscores the immense challenges we faced in building this nation and the high stakes involved.
Ian Van Harten Today you're known as having had a bit of a drinking problem. Can you talk a bit about that?
John A.I. Macdonald Ah, yes, my reputation does seem to have preceded me through the ages. It is true that I have never been one to shy away from a good glass of sherry or a wee dram of Scotch. Some have whispered that I indulged perhaps a bit too enthusiastically at times. But let us consider this matter with a bit of perspective, shall we?
Politics in my day, especially the forging of a nation like Canada, was thirsty work! The endless meetings, the debates that stretched into the wee hours, the constant need to build consensus among men of strong opinions – these were not tasks for the faint of heart, nor the dry of throat. A little "refreshment" often helped to smooth ruffled feathers and loosen stubborn tongues.
There were times, I confess, when I may have enjoyed the camaraderie of the bottle a little too much. I recall one particular debate in 1870 when my dear friend, the member for Shefford, Mr. Huntington, gave a rather lengthy speech. I quipped that he must have "drunk too much water" and "drowned his ideas" in his beverage. Of course, he retorted with a jest of his own, asking how I knew there wasn't any whisky in it! Such banter was common, and it served to lighten the mood during tense times.
And let us not forget the social customs of the era. A gentleman was expected to partake in hospitality, and declining a drink could be seen as an insult or a sign of distrust. In the canteens, sergeants' messes, and officers' messes, liquor flowed freely, a fact that was, shall we say, "notorious."
Of course, I am not blind to the potential for excess, nor the harm that intemperance can cause.
Perhaps my fondness for a tipple has been exaggerated over time. Perhaps it has become a convenient caricature. But I assure you, my dedication to Canada, my vision for its future, and my tireless work to bring it into being were never impaired. I always strived to serve this nation to the best of my abilities, whether with a clear head or a slight buzz.
Ian Van Harten What can you say about your relationship with Indigenous peoples in Canada?
John A.I. Macdonald Ah, yes, our interactions with the Indigenous peoples... a complex and often troubling aspect of Canada's story. As Prime Minister, I believed firmly in the progress and development of this nation, and that included integrating the Indigenous population into the fabric of our society.
When the Dominion of Canada was formed, we inherited existing treaties and obligations from the Crown. I saw these treaties as a way to open up lands for settlement and resource development, which were essential for the economic growth of the country. We negotiated new treaties, particularly in the West, with the aim of securing land for settlers, building the railway, and establishing peaceful relations.
However, I cannot deny that our policies were often paternalistic and misguided. We sought to assimilate Indigenous peoples, believing it was in their best interest to adopt European customs and ways of life. This led to the establishment of residential schools, institutions intended to educate and Christianize Indigenous children. While the intention, as we saw it, was to provide them with the skills to succeed in a changing world, the reality was far different. These schools often inflicted great harm, separating children from their families, suppressing their cultures and languages, and subjecting them to abuse.
I recall debates in the House regarding the funding and oversight of these schools. There were voices, even then, that expressed concern about the impact on Indigenous communities. Yet, the prevailing view was that assimilation was the only path forward. I, too, shared that view, influenced by the prevailing attitudes of the time.
The consequences of these policies are still felt today. The legacy of residential schools is one of trauma, loss, and injustice, and it continues to affect Indigenous communities across Canada. While I believed I was acting in the best interests of the country, I now recognize that our policies caused immense suffering and did lasting damage to the relationship between Indigenous peoples and the Canadian government. It is a burden on the conscience of this nation, and one that we must continue to address with humility, understanding, and a commitment to reconciliation.
Ian Van Harten Do you have a sense of what a more enlightened approach to Canada's relationship with Indigenous peoples could have looked like? Or could look like in the future?
John A.I. Macdonald Ah, a question that weighs heavily on my heart, even now. The matter of our Indigenous peoples... it is a complex and often sorrowful chapter in the story of Canada.
When we first embarked on this grand experiment of Confederation, I envisioned a Canada where all inhabitants, including the First Nations, would share in the prosperity and progress. Remember, in those days, we were dealing with a vast, largely uncharted territory, and the Indigenous populations were the established inhabitants, possessing a deep knowledge of the land.
My government's intention was to integrate them gradually into the fabric of Canadian society, to protect them, and to ensure their well-being. We negotiated treaties, like the Numbered Treaties, with the aim of securing land for settlement and development, while also providing reserves, education, and other forms of assistance to the Indigenous communities.
However, with the benefit of hindsight, it is clear that our approach was deeply flawed. We operated under the paternalistic belief that we knew what was best for them, often disregarding their own customs, traditions, and aspirations. The reserve system, intended as a haven, became a source of isolation and hardship. The residential schools, meant to educate and assimilate, inflicted profound cultural and emotional wounds.
Looking back, a more enlightened approach would have prioritized genuine consultation and partnership. We should have sought to understand their perspectives, respect their sovereignty, and incorporate their knowledge and traditions into the development of our nation. Instead of imposing our ways, we should have strived to create a society where Indigenous and non-Indigenous cultures could coexist and thrive together.
As for the future, I believe reconciliation is the only path forward. It requires acknowledging the wrongs of the past, addressing the systemic inequalities that persist today, and building a relationship based on mutual respect, trust, and understanding. It means honouring treaty obligations, supporting Indigenous self-determination, and working together to create a more just and equitable Canada for all. Indeed, as I stated in the House, building a British power on the continent meant trying our utmost to weld the provinces from one ocean to the other into one solid Dominion.
This is a long and arduous journey, but one that is essential to the soul of our nation.
Ian Van Harten Now, there was also another infamous scandal during your time as Prime Minister - the execution of Louis Riel. Can you explain what happened with Louis Riel and the Metis rebellion? Do you think you made the right decision in having him executed?
John A.I. Macdonald Ah, Louis Riel. A name that still echoes through the halls of Canadian history, fraught with passion, conflict, and, yes, a great deal of controversy. It is a subject I faced head-on during my time as Prime Minister, and one that continues to stir debate to this very day.
Let me set the scene for you. It was the late 19th century, and the Canadian West was undergoing dramatic transformation. The Métis people, descendants of European fur traders and Indigenous peoples, had long called the Red River region home. But with the westward expansion of Canada, their way of life was increasingly threatened. The buffalo herds, their primary source of sustenance, were dwindling, and settlers were encroaching upon their lands.
Louis Riel, a charismatic and educated Métis leader, emerged as their champion. He sought to protect Métis rights and preserve their culture in the face of Canadian expansion. In 1869, he led the Red River Resistance, establishing a provisional government to negotiate terms for the entry of the North-West Territories into Confederation. While that situation was eventually resolved, tensions remained.
Years later, in 1885, simmering discontent once again boiled over. The Métis, feeling ignored by the Canadian government and fearing the loss of their land and way of life, once again turned to Riel for leadership. This time, the conflict escalated into the North-West Rebellion.
Now, let me be clear: the rebellion was a grave challenge to the authority of the Canadian government. We could not allow armed resistance to dictate the terms of governance. As Prime Minister, I had a duty to uphold the law and maintain order. And let us not forget the tragic death of Thomas Scott at the hands of Riel's provisional government years earlier—a stain that could not be ignored.
Following the suppression of the rebellion, Riel was captured and put on trial for treason. The trial was a highly charged affair, with strong emotions on both sides. Riel's lawyers argued that he was insane and not responsible for his actions. However, Riel himself rejected this defense, asserting that he was acting in the best interests of his people.
The jury found him guilty, and he was sentenced to hang.
Now, I will not deny that the decision to proceed with Riel's execution was a difficult one. Many, particularly in Quebec, pleaded for clemency. They saw Riel as a defender of French-Canadian rights and a symbol of resistance against English-Canadian dominance. Others, primarily in Ontario, demanded that justice be served. They viewed Riel as a traitor and a murderer who deserved to be punished for his crimes.
Ultimately, after much deliberation, I upheld the sentence. I believed that commuting it would have undermined the rule of law and emboldened those who sought to challenge the authority of the government through violence. It was a decision made with a heavy heart, but one that I believed was necessary for the long-term stability of the country.
Whether it was the right decision... that is a question that Canadians continue to debate to this day. Some vilify me for it, while others argue it was a necessary act of statesmanship. History, as they say, is written by the victors, but it is up to each generation to grapple with the complexities of the past and draw their own conclusions.
Ian Van Harten What would you say to Canadians today who are debating whether your statues should remain standing?
John A.I. Macdonald My dear fellow Canadians, I understand this is no simple matter—nor should it be. The debate over my statues is, at its heart, a conversation about how a nation reconciles its triumphs with its transgressions. Let me speak plainly, not as a marble figure on a pedestal, but as the flawed man who helped forge this country amid the fierce contradictions of the 19th century.
When we built Canada in 1867, we were stitching together a fragile patchwork of colonies under the shadow of American expansionism and British imperial retreat. The railroad, the Indian Act, the residential school system—these were choices born of an era that saw Indigenous peoples as obstacles to "progress" and Confederation as a business venture as much as a moral project. I make no excuses for policies that caused profound harm; history has rightly judged them cruel and unjust. But understand this: my government’s actions reflected the prevailing ideologies of empire, capitalism, and racial hierarchy that few questioned at the time.
Those bronzes were erected not just to honor me, but to celebrate the idea of Canada—a nation carved out of wilderness, bound by steel rails, and loyal to the Crown. Yet symbols are never static. To some, my likeness may still represent perseverance (a poor immigrant’s son who held a fractious country together through sheer will). To others, it embodies oppression (the architect of systems that devastated Indigenous communities). Both truths coexist.
Removing statues isn’t erasing history—it’s engaging with it. When protesters toppled my effigy in Montreal in 2020, they weren’t vandalizing art; they were demanding accountability for the unfulfilled promises of 1867. Conversely, preserving monuments with added context (as at Bellevue House in Kingston) invites reflection on how far we’ve come—and how far we must go.
If I may borrow from my own words in the 1882 debates: Canada thrives when it balances "loyalty to the Empire" with "freedom to evolve." Perhaps these statues could serve not as uncritical tributes, but as teachable moments. Add plaques acknowledging my failures alongside my achievements. Let schoolchildren debate whether I deserve the pedestal. A nation that confronts its past with clear eyes is stronger than one that polishes its myths.
History isn’t a verdict—it’s an ongoing conversation. Whether my statues stand or fall matters less than whether Canadians keep wrestling with the complex legacy I left you. That, after all, is how a country grows up.
Ian Van Harten Any thoughts you would like to leave with us as we look ahead to the new challenges facing the country today?
John A.I. Macdonald My dear friend, as I reflect upon the Canada we built and the challenges that lie ahead for you, I am reminded of the sentiments I shared with the House many times. It is a sentiment I wish to impress upon all Canadians today: foster a strong national identity.
In my time, I observed a tendency among Canadians to undervalue their own country. They were often too quick to compare themselves unfavorably to other nations, forgetting the vastness of our land, the richness of our resources, and the potential that lay within us. I always believed that we should take pride in being part of the British Empire, and even more so in the strength and capability of Canada itself. We were no longer a "sick child" in need of constant care, but a robust and vital member of the family, capable of standing on our own two feet and contributing to the greater good.
It is this spirit of national pride and self-belief that I urge you to cultivate. Understand the greatness that you are bound to be. Do not underestimate yourselves or your country. Embrace your heritage, celebrate your achievements, and face the future with the confidence that comes from knowing who you are and what you are capable of. For it is only with a strong sense of national identity that you can overcome the challenges that lie ahead. I believe such sentiment is greatly wanting even today.
One must also remember the importance of unity and progress for all its citizens. As I saw during my time in the North-West, the progress of one group can impact others. It is our duty to ensure that all members of our society are given the opportunity to thrive and contribute to the greater good.
As you look ahead, remember the values that have made Canada strong: unity, perseverance, and a belief in the potential of our country and its people. With these values as your guide, I have no doubt that you will overcome any challenge and build an even greater Canada for generations to come.