There are days in a country’s life that feel bigger than headlines, days that echo, quietly but clearly, with history. Yesterday was one of those days.
From the horse drawn carriage arrival of King Charles III and Queen Camilla, to the Speech from the Throne, to the laying of the wreath at the National War Memorial, it was one of those rare days in Canadian political life that hits at something deeper than just policy or protocol.
I’ve said before, and I’ll say again, I don’t quite know where I stand on the monarchy. I teeter. I hover somewhere between acknowledging the symbolic weight they carry, and questioning whether we still need that weight at all. But… yesterday felt different.
There was something quietly profound in the way it all unfolded. The King’s interactions with Canadians; from people walking the streets, to students, to Members of Parliament and justices of the Supreme Court, felt authentic.You could see it mattered to him, perhaps especially after the difficult first year of his reign. And I imagine, standing where his mother once stood, that meant something deeply personal for him as well.
The weather could not have been more perfect. The backdrop of Parliament Hill, even with the ever-present cranes that have become a permanent part of the skyline, stood tall and dignified. And then came the moments of tradition and ceremony that hit me harder than I expected. The Usher of the Black Rod, summoning MPs to the Senate chamber with purpose and ceremony, felt both formal and commanding. It was fun, yes, but it was also weighty, steeped in centuries of history and meaning. The Riverdance drummers, their rhythm and cry echoing in the air, brought an emotional charge that caught me off guard.
When the procession reached the National War Memorial, and O Canada played just as the F-18s roared overhead, it was one of those full-body moments. My breath caught. And as those jets tore across the sky, I felt the same wave I always do in those moments. You all know that military flyovers are personal for me. They always have been.
And of course the centrepiece: the Speech from the Throne.
Now I’ve already read and studied the mandate letter. I know what’s expected from this government in terms of policy. The speech did its duty on that front. But that’s not what stayed with me.
What stayed with me was the tone. The intentionality. The message that was for Canada, but also very much for the world.
“When my dear late mother, Queen Elizabeth II, opened a new Canadian Parliament in 1957, the Second World War remained a fresh, painful memory… Today, Canada faces another critical moment.”
That line alone bridged generations. It reminded us that history doesn’t live in textbooks alone, it walks beside us in real time. And that once again, we are standing at a crossroads.
“Democracy, pluralism, the rule of law, self-determination, and freedom are values which Canadians hold dear…We must be clear-eyed: the world is a more dangerous and uncertain place than at any point since the Second World War.”
This wasn’t filler. This wasn’t just constitutional fluff. It was a deliberate signal, a reaffirmation of what we stand for, not just in theory, but in practice. And it wasn’t just domestic reassurance. It was international positioning.
And then, this line, one I will not forget:
“All Canadians can give themselves far more than any foreign power on any continent can ever take away.”
That’s it. That’s the essence of sovereignty. That’s the sentence we should be talking about. It’s pride without arrogance. Strength without noise. It’s Canada telling the world: we are here, we are prepared, and we are not alone.
And here’s the part that was so strategically elegant: the name of the President of the United States was not mentioned by name. Despite his being the obvious audience for this speech that omission was powerful. Intentional. His presence hung in the air, referenced obliquely in the contrast between Canadian values and the rising threats abroad.
This speech was about Canada, standing in its own authority, reaffirming our sovereignty, our alliances, and our unwavering sense of who we are on the global stage.
This is the Canada that welcomes, that leads, that builds. This is the Canada that doesn’t chase relevance, it earns it. The speech made clear that while the world may be in turmoil, our path is steady. Thoughtful. Collaborative. And yes, sovereign.
I’ll review the government policy parts of the speech in the coming days. But I wanted to get this down while it was still raw, before the political analysts pick it apart and before the news cycle moves on.
Because when King Charles ended his remarks, he left us with a line that deserves to be remembered far beyond this single day.
“As the national anthem reminds us, the true north is indeed strong and free.”
And I, for one, believe that. I believe it in the skies above the War Memorial. I believe it in the sound of our anthem. I believe it in the weight of our history and the promise of our future.
Indeed!
Nancy's Notes 