By any measure, Canada is stepping further into the global security arena and not a moment too soon. But as Latvia’s ambassador to Canada, Kaspars Ozoliņš, recently reminded us, money and military deployments alone won’t protect a democracy in an age where threats are as digital and psychological as they are physical.
His message is blunt: National defence is no longer just the military’s job. It belongs to every citizen, every business, every institution. And for Canadians, that concept is still uncomfortably new.
Latvia is not theorizing about Russia’s threat it is living beside it. The country has endured the Soviet regime, resisted disinformation campaigns, and now stands as a frontline NATO state in an increasingly volatile region.
When Ozoliņš says, “The Soviet regime was much milder than it is right now in Russia. And that scares me,” Canadians should pay attention. This is not political spin; it’s an eyewitness account of a neighbour watching a dangerous power grow more bold.
Canada’s role in Latvia is significant. Operation Reassurance is not a symbolic mission it is Canada’s largest overseas deployment, and thousands of Canadian troops form the backbone of a multinational brigade built to deter Moscow.
Prime Minister Mark Carney’s decision to extend the mission and invest in modernizing the Armed Forces is a welcome step. The new federal budget promises nearly $82 billion over five years for defence, including cyber capabilities that will matter just as much as tanks and troops.
But Latvia is spending 4.9% of its GDP on defence more than double what Ottawa projects. And crucially, half of that is dedicated to procurement and hardening infrastructure.
A country that has lived under Russia’s shadow understands urgency. Canada is still learning it.
Ozoliņš emphasizes something many Canadians still underestimate: modern threats don’t care about geography. Cyberattacks, electoral interference, online propaganda these tactics don’t require borders or armies.
His argument for a “whole-of-society” approach is not theoretical. Latvia regularly trains with businesses, civil institutions, and communities to defend its infrastructure and information networks.
Canada, meanwhile, is only beginning to discuss this kind of comprehensive security culture.
As global tensions rise, the Arctic long viewed as remote and untouchable is becoming a strategic hot zone. When asked if a NATO-style brigade could one day operate there, the ambassador didn’t rule it out.
His point was simple: the Arctic cannot be divided like slices of pie. Threats in the North cyber, territorial, environmental will require cooperation, not isolation.
Perhaps the most important warning from Ozoliņš has nothing to do with budgets or brigades. It’s about public perception.
Canada cannot sustain strong defence policies without public buy-in. The recent budget poll showed affordability dominates the national debate, yet support for defence is slowly rising. Still, many Canadians believe the global turmoil won’t reach them a dangerous assumption in 2025.
“History is not static,” Ozoliņš tells students. “If you wait to act when the threat comes, it will be too late.”
Canada is taking meaningful steps, but they are steps toward a new world where national security is not an abstract government responsibility. It is shared. It is constant. And it demands vigilance from soldiers, from companies, from communities, and from every Canadian.
Latvia learned this the hard way. Canada still has time to learn it the right way.
