Westneat: Canada, how can I explain?

Ouch. The enemy? What can I say to that in return?

The awkward reality is I don’t know what to say to Canadians at this juncture. On the Peace Arch at Blaine between our two countries, the inscription reads “Children of a Common Mother.” This feels then like the world’s biggest family breakup — with us as the cause. Would it help, Canadians, if an American said he was embarrassed for America right now?

Would it count for anything if I pointed out that we were as blindsided as you by Donald Trump’s suggestion of annexing your country, and making it the 51st state? That he didn’t bring up his weird Canada animus until after he’d won the election?

No, that probably won’t help. The bitter truth is we knew Trump was impetuous. We knew he loves to bully his allies more than his enemies — witness how he relishes humiliating, say, GOP senators. And we knew he would act out the Ugly American shtick on the world stage. We elected him anyway.

Still, picking on … Canada? I think I speak for more than a few Americans when I say that the only people more baffled by this sudden choice of enemies than you, Canadians, was us.

So for what it’s worth, Canada, let me say that I admire how you’re rallying to our threat. I loved how you mocked the idea of Trump requesting Canadian troops on the border by instead posting hockey sticks in the snow with googly eyes on them.

I love how everybody’s wearing “Canada is not for sale” hats. I also like that there’s now a weekly protest outside the U.S. Consulate in Vancouver, with signs like “Stop Him, Americans” and “Toque off, Trump.” And I endorse how your sports fans are lustily booing our national anthem. Atypical for you supposedly polite Canadians — but exactly what the times demand.

All this makes me envious, Canada. You’re behaving as we ought to be.

That we’re not protesting or booing right along with you blameless Canadians was the most wounding part of Mr. McMartin’s breakup note.

“Goodbye to my American friends,” he wrote. “Your silence and the silence of all Americans in response to this aggression leaves me disheartened. That silence speaks volumes. I — we — have heard you loud and clear how little our friendship as a country means to you.”

How can I explain this quiescence? I cannot.

You got it right in your breakup note. You called us quiet cowards, which hurts because it’s true. We kicked up a million times more fuss when a transgender celebrity drank a Bud Light, or when they asked us to wear masks, than we are right now that our bonkers boss is threatening to economically crush, and then imperialistically occupy, our closest ally and friend.

As one Canadian wrote in response to McMartin’s goodbye:

“The United States is not what I once thought it was. Their true character — or lack of — is in clear view. I can think of excuses, but in the end, Americans had a choice, and this is the one they made.”

What can one say to that?

I have a friend in Canada who insists the main difference between Canadians and Americans is the apology. Canadians apologize two or three times before breakfast, he says, while you Americans won’t do it even after you’ve, say, invaded the wrong country.

So that’s what I got, Canadians. It’s bound to be small solace. It won’t end the tariffs or the takeover madness. It won’t “stop him.” But it’s the only thing I have from the heart to communicate that there are some down here who not only hear you, Canada, but who stand with you.

Which is to say: I’m sorry.