After the Second World War, Hungary found itself firmly within the Soviet sphere of influence. Following a failed revolution in 1956, the Hungarians eventually settled into a bargain with Moscow.
They could have a little more freedom than their neighbours. They could experiment with their economy, enjoy a somewhat better standard of living, and largely manage their domestic affairs. In exchange, they would not challenge the Soviet Union on the things that mattered.
It became known as “Goulash Communism”.
The bargain was simple enough. Don't make trouble, and you'll be looked after.
Canada made a remarkably similar bargain with the United States.
We would manage our own affairs, develop our own social programs, and congratulate ourselves on how different we were from the Americans. But on the big questions of economics, defence, and foreign policy, we would generally fall into line.
In exchange, we got access to the richest market in the world, the protection of the world's most powerful military, and a standard of living that made questioning the arrangement seem rather unnecessary.
We were well fed.
Of course, Canada was never occupied by the Americans. We entered this relationship willingly, and that distinction matters enormously. But the effect on our national ambitions may have been surprisingly similar.
We developed an identity around the things we were free to do, rather than asking what we might do if we were genuinely free to choose.
And then came Gorbachev.
He didn't set out to destroy Hungary. He simply changed the fundamental bargain. Moscow would no longer guarantee the political and economic order that Hungary had organized itself around.
Suddenly, Hungary had to figure out what kind of country it wanted to be without the Soviet Union.
And then came Trump.
Trump isn't Gorbachev, and America isn't the Soviet Union. But Trump has done something remarkably similar to Canada's understanding of its place in the world.
He has changed the deal.
The assumption that America would always be our largest customer, our closest ally, and our dependable guarantor of prosperity is no longer something we can take for granted.
And suddenly, Canada has to answer a question it has spent generations avoiding.
What kind of country do we actually want to be?
Perhaps the most uncomfortable part of this comparison is that neither Hungary nor Canada was entirely prevented from imagining a different future. The arrangements were simply comfortable enough that doing so never seemed particularly urgent.
We mistook prosperity for independence. We mistook the freedom to manage our affairs for the freedom to determine our destiny.
And now we find ourselves staring at a future we never really bothered to plan for.
The temptation will be to wait for the Americans to return to their senses, restore the old bargain, and let us get back to being comfortably Canadian.
But perhaps the old bargain was always going to end.
And perhaps the real tragedy would be to spend this moment trying to get it back rather than finally deciding what we want to become.
And don't blame the Americans. We're the problem.