COLUMN: Mark Carney has just reminded us that history does not bow to tyrants

Living a Lie or Living in Truth

To illustrate his point, Carney cited a powerful parable from the essay “The Power of the Powerless” by Vaclav Havel, the former Czech dissident who became president. The story of a vegetable vendor who displays the slogan “Workers of the world, unite!” in his shop window—not because he believes in it, but simply to live in peace, to avoid trouble with the communist regime. This vendor doesn’t even read the slogan. He displays it mechanically, just like everyone else. And that is precisely where the trap lies: when everyone pretends to agree, when everyone plays along with the lie, the oppressive system persists. Everyone becomes the jailer of their own prison. But Havel explains that this vendor may, one day, decide to take down the slogan. And that simple gesture changes everything.

This parable moves me deeply every time. Because it applies to all of us. How many times have we put up our own slogan just to keep the peace? How many times have we turned a blind eye to injustice because speaking out would have been too costly? Havel tells us: the power of the powerless begins with honesty. With the refusal to lie. With the courage to say no.

Breaking the Rules of the Game

Havel writes that when the shopkeeper removes the slogan, he “breaks the rules of the game.” He exposes the system for what it is: a house of cards held together by the tacit consent of millions of people. He tears away the veil of appearances, that fundamental pillar of the system. He upends the structure of power by tearing apart what holds it together. He demonstrates that to live in a lie is to live a lie. He pierced the system’s glorified facade and exposed the true foundations of power. He said that the emperor has no clothes. And because the emperor is indeed naked, something extremely dangerous happened: through his action, the shopkeeper spoke to the entire world. He allowed everyone to look behind the curtain. He showed everyone that it is possible to live in the truth. Carney suggests that he and his fellow executives are that merchant. That they can—and must—remove the slogan.

The Hypocrisy of the International Order

Carney was not naive in his speech. He openly acknowledged that the rules-based international order was partly a fiction. “We knew that the story of the rules-based international order was partly false,” he said. The strongest players exempt themselves when it suits them. Trade rules are enforced asymmetrically. International law is applied with varying rigor, depending on the identity of the accused or the victim. This candor is refreshing. Too often, defenders of the liberal international order fall into an idealistic rhetoric that denies the realities of power. Carney, on the other hand, faces the facts head-on. Yes, the system was imperfect. Yes, there were double standards. Yes, American hegemony served American interests first and foremost.

But the alternative is worse

But here’s the thing: despite all its imperfections, this order had its merits. U.S. hegemony, as Carney pointed out, “helped provide public goods: open sea lanes, a stable financial system, collective security, and support for dispute resolution frameworks.” These international public goods did not fall from the sky. They were built, maintained, and defended. And now, under Trump, the United States itself is sabotaging this system. It is threatening its allies. It is calling NATO into question. It is imposing arbitrary tariffs. It is annexing territories. The alternative to an imperfect order is not a perfect order. It is chaos. It is the law of the jungle. It is a return to a world where only force matters, where treaties are worthless, where a promise no longer binds anyone.

And that’s where it gets terrifying. Because we know where that path leads. We’ve been down it before. In the 1930s. When democracies let dictators chip away at the international order piece by piece. When we believed that appeasing tyrants would satisfy them. Spoiler: it didn’t satisfy them. It emboldened them.

The Myth of a Rules-Based Order

Let’s be honest: the postwar international order was never truly based on rules that applied equally to everyone. It was an order based on American hegemony. The United States wrote the rules, and everyone else had to follow them. When the rules no longer suited Washington, they were changed or ignored. The 2003 invasion of Iraq? Without a UN mandate. The NSA’s mass surveillance revealed by Snowden? A flagrant violation of other nations’ sovereignty. Guantanamo? A denial of the most basic human rights. The list goes on. Carney is right to highlight this hypocrisy. Many middle powers have long “grumbled quietly” about an order that made some countries more equal than others. But they also benefited from it. The Pax Americana had its advantages, even for those who weren’t American.

What We Risk Losing

Open sea lanes enabled global trade. The stable financial system prevented cascading crises. Collective security deterred aggression. Dispute resolution frameworks offered alternatives to war. All of this rested on American power, which, despite its abuses, maintained a certain order. Now, that order is collapsing—not because of a rival power challenging it from the outside, but because the United States itself is dismantling it from within. Trump does not believe in alliances. He does not believe in treaties. He believes only in brute force and power dynamics. To him, the world is a zero-sum game where you have to crush others to win. This vision is not only dangerous; it is also profoundly foolish. Because it ignores the fact that American power itself was based on a network of alliances and institutions that amplified its influence.

An Insatiable Appetite for Annexation

Let’s recap Trump’s territorial ambitions. First, Greenland. That autonomous Danish island that Trump wanted to buy, as if it were a piece of vacant land. Then Panama, where he wanted to regain control of the canal. Then Canada, which he regularly threatened to annex or subjugate economically. Venezuela, where he sent troops. Mexico, constantly in his crosshairs. Not to mention his enthusiastic support for Latin American autocrats who share his authoritarian vision of power. This isn’t foreign policy. It’s unabashed neo-imperialism. It’s a return to an era we thought was long gone, when the great powers divided up the world like a cake. Except that we’re in the 21st century, not the 19th. People have a say in the matter. Borders are supposed to be inviolable. National sovereignty is a fundamental principle of international law.

But Trump doesn’t care. Not one bit. To him, the sovereignty of other countries is nothing more than an obstacle to be circumvented. And what terrifies me is that no one is stopping him. No one is telling him: Stop, that’s enough. European leaders are keeping a low profile. The United States’ traditional allies are walking on eggshells. Everyone is afraid of economic retaliation. So we just let it happen.

The international community’s pathetic response

Faced with these threats of annexation, what has been the international community’s reaction? Timid statements. Watered-down diplomatic communiqués. Calls for dialogue. Nothing concrete. Nothing firm. As if one could reason with a tyrant using soft words. Yet history has taught us that autocrats understand only one language: that of force and determination. Not necessarily military force, but the force of conviction, the force of unity, the force of categorical refusal. When Hitler annexed Austria in 1938, the democracies protested half-heartedly. When he demanded the Sudetenland, they caved in at Munich. We know what happened next. Trump is not Hitler, of course. But the dynamic is the same: an authoritarian leader who tests the limits, who pushes ever further, and who interprets silence as consent.

Carney Refuses to Play Along

Trump’s response to Carney’s speech was predictable and pathetic. He immediately revoked Carney’s invitation to join his “Peace Council,” accusing him of ingratitude. “He wasn’t that grateful. They should be grateful to us—Canada. Canada exists thanks to the United States,” Trump declared. This reaction speaks volumes about his mindset. In his view, other countries owe the United States gratitude. They must kowtow. They must accept anything without complaint. And when someone dares to say no, when someone dares to express disagreement, it is perceived as a betrayal. Carney was not impressed. He didn’t apologize. He didn’t back down. On the contrary, in a speech in Quebec City, he reaffirmed his position even more forcefully. He emphasized that remaining true to Canadian values is the key to maintaining the country’s sovereignty.

And that’s when I thought to myself: now that’s a leader. A real one. Not someone who bends at the first sign of trouble. Not someone who sacrifices their principles for a trade deal. Carney understood something essential: giving in to a tyrant doesn’t protect you. It weakens you. It makes you vulnerable. The only way to stand up to a bully is to stand your ground.

A Message for All Leaders

Carney’s message wasn’t directed solely at Trump. It was also, implicitly, directed at all the other Western leaders who have chosen to remain silent. At those who prefer their “peaceful life” to standing up for principles. At those who display the slogan in their storefronts just to avoid trouble. Carney is telling them: You can take down the slogan. You can say no. You can refuse to play along. And when you do, you don’t weaken yourselves. You strengthen yourselves. Because you show that you have boundaries, that you have values, that you’re not for sale. In his speech in Quebec City, Carney declared: “We can show that another path is possible, that the arc of history is not destined to bend toward authoritarianism and exclusion; it can still bend toward progress and justice.” It is a message of hope, but also a call to action.

The European Union at a Crossroads

The European Union has a crucial role to play in this new global landscape. Faced with Trump’s threats regarding Greenland, the EU showed a degree of firmness. It made it clear that it would not tolerate the forced annexation of a European territory. It threatened strong trade countermeasures if Trump persisted. And guess what? Trump backed down. Not completely, not permanently, but he backed down. This demonstrates something important: Trump is not invincible. He can be stopped. But only if he faces united and determined resistance. The problem is that Europe is not always united. Some countries, such as Viktor Orbán’s Hungary, are openly pro-Trump. Others, like Germany or France, waver between firmness and pragmatism. This division weakens Europe and encourages Trump to continue his provocations.

Europe’s Debt to Carney

As the Irish Times article points out, “the EU owes Carney a debt of gratitude for his leadership.” By speaking out in Davos, by refusing to remain silent, and by calling a spade a spade, Carney did what many European leaders should have done long ago. He showed that it is possible to stand up to Trump without the sky falling on our heads. He demonstrated that moral clarity and political firmness are not incompatible with national interests. On the contrary, they serve those interests. Because a country that abandons its values to appease a tyrant ends up losing everything: its values AND its security. Europe must listen to Carney. It must draw inspiration from his courage. It must understand that unity is not an option—it is an existential necessity. Faced with powers like Trump’s United States, China, or Russia, no European country can make it on its own.

And yet, we continue to divide ourselves. We continue to play our petty national games. We continue to prioritize our short-term interests at the expense of our long-term survival. It is mind-bogglingly stupid. Because if Europe does not unite now, it will disappear—not physically, but politically. It will become a playground for the great powers, a space to be conquered, divided, and exploited.

The Importance of Dissent

What Carney did in Davos was an act of dissent. In a world where the norm is to flatter the powerful, to spare people’s feelings, and to never say out loud what everyone is thinking to themselves, Carney chose the truth. He chose to say that the emperor has no clothes. And this act, simple as it may be, is revolutionary. Because it shatters the consensus of silence. It shows others that it is possible to speak out. It creates a space for dissent. Havel understood this: the power of the powerless begins with the refusal to lie. Through the courage to say no. Through the will to live in truth rather than in comfortable lies. Carney embodies this courage. He shows that even in the face of the world’s greatest power, even in the face of economic threats, even in the face of the risk of isolation, it is possible to stand firm.

An example for future generations

In a few years, when historians write about this period, they will ask themselves: How could we have let this happen? How could we have remained silent in the face of such abuses? And they will look for the exceptions—the voices that spoke out, the leaders who refused to bow down. Mark Carney’s name will be among them. Not because he performed miracles. Not because he single-handedly stopped Trump. But because he had the moral courage to speak the truth. Because he refused to display the slogan in his window. Because he showed that another path was possible. That courage is contagious. When one leader dares to speak out, others follow. When someone breaks the silence, the wall of fear begins to crack. That is how authoritarian regimes fall—not by force of arms, but by the collapse of consent.

I’d like to believe that Carney’s speech will mark a turning point. That other leaders will find the courage to follow his example. That we’ll witness a collective reawakening of democracies. But I’m realistic. Courage is rare. Cowardice is common. And the fear of reprisals paralyzes even the best of intentions. So perhaps nothing will change. Perhaps Carney will remain a lone voice in the wilderness. But at least he will have tried. At least he will have shown that it was possible.

The Need for a Coalition of Volunteers

One of the most important points in Carney’s speech concerns the middle powers—those countries that are neither superpowers nor insignificant small states. Canada, of course, but also Australia, South Korea, the Nordic countries, the Netherlands, Belgium, and so many others. Individually, these countries cannot compete with the United States, China, or Russia. But collectively, they represent a considerable force. They control significant resources. They have developed economies. They possess advanced technologies. Above all, they share common values: democracy, the rule of law, human rights, and multilateralism. Carney calls on them to unite, coordinate their actions, and present a united front against intimidation by the major powers. This is a pragmatic and realistic vision of the new global geopolitical landscape.

A New Multipolar Order

The unipolar world order dominated by the United States is over. That is a fact. The question is not whether we should accept it, but how we should adapt. Carney proposes a path: that of a strengthened multilateralism driven by middle powers. An order where rules still matter, where treaties are respected, and where might does not make right. An imperfect order, no doubt, but preferable to the current chaos. For this vision to become a reality, middle powers must overcome their divisions. They must agree to sacrifice some of their sovereignty to gain collective influence. They must invest in their defense capabilities so as not to rely solely on U.S. protection. They must develop alternatives to the financial and technological systems dominated by the United States and China. It is an ambitious but necessary program.

The problem is that it requires political courage. It requires a long-term vision. It requires resisting short-term pressures. And our political systems aren’t designed for that. Our leaders think in terms of four- or five-year election cycles. They seek quick wins, headlines, and favorable poll numbers—not structural transformations that will take decades. But if we don’t start now, we’ll never start.

A Message of Hope in a Dark World

In his speech in Quebec City, Carney said something that sums it all up: “We can show that another path is possible, that the arc of history is not destined to bend toward authoritarianism and exclusion; it can still bend toward progress and justice.” This statement echoes Martin Luther King Jr.’s famous quote: “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” Carney reminds us that this arc does not bend on its own. It does not bend by magic. It bends because people make it bend. Because courageous individuals refuse to accept the unacceptable. Because leaders take risks to defend their values. Because ordinary citizens say no to lies and yes to the truth. History is not predetermined. It is not determined by impersonal forces over which we have no control.

The Choice Before Us

We are at a pivotal moment. A moment when the choices we make today will determine the world in which our children and grandchildren will live. Will we let tyrants reshape the world order in their own image? Will we accept that might makes right, that treaties are worthless, that borders can be redrawn at the whim of the powerful? Or will we fight to preserve and improve the international order, however imperfect it may be? Will we find the courage to say no, as Carney did? Are we going to take the slogan down from our storefront, like Havel’s greengrocer? These are existential questions. And they demand answers—not theoretical or philosophical ones, but concrete answers, embodied in political action. Carney’s speech shows us the way. It’s up to us to follow it.

I don’t know if we’ll be able to do it. I don’t know if we still have enough collective courage to resist. Sometimes I look at the world and tell myself we’re doomed. That the tyrants have already won. That democracy is on its last legs. But then I think of Carney. Of his speech. Of his refusal to remain silent. And I tell myself: maybe. Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe the arc of history can still bend toward justice. But only if we make it bend. Only if we refuse to live a lie. Only if we find the courage to speak truth to power, whatever the consequences.

Signed, Jacques Provost