The Trudeau government is finally waking up to a reality the rest of the world has been grappling with for years: Canada can no longer coast on its military alliances while underfunding its own defence. At this week’s CANSEC trade show in Ottawa, Defence Minister David McGuinty told military contractors that the federal government will take “immediate and decisive action” to rebuild Canada’s armed forces. That’s a strong statement—but one that comes years late.
McGuinty’s urgency was palpable, likening the moment to Canada’s rapid naval build-up at the start of the Second World War. He highlighted how other countries are making hard decisions—laying off public servants, cancelling holidays, and raising corporate taxes—to meet their NATO obligations. His message was clear: the world is rearming, and Canada can’t afford to be left behind.
And yet, it’s worth asking: what took so long?
Canada’s defence spending has long lagged behind that of our allies. Despite repeated warnings from NATO, U.S. presidents, and military experts, successive governments—Liberal and Conservative alike—have kicked the can down the road. Now, with global tensions rising and the U.S. pulling back from its traditional role as security guarantor, we’re playing catch-up in a dangerous game.
The government’s move to join ReArm Europe—a major European defence pact aimed at retooling supply chains and ramping up military production—could be a smart step. It promises access to Europe’s massive $1.25 trillion defence marketplace and diversification away from an increasingly unreliable U.S. partnership. But there’s no guarantee it will be easy, fast, or even welcomed by all.
ReArm was born out of necessity after Donald Trump suspended military aid to Ukraine, once again proving how volatile U.S. foreign policy can be. Canada’s pivot toward Europe reflects this shift, but it also risks deepening the cracks in our North American alliance—just as Trump applies fresh pressure on Canada and other NATO members to dramatically increase defence spending.
The push for NATO allies to hit five per cent of GDP in defence spending is a political thunderclap. For Canada, that would mean tens of billions of dollars in new spending, some of which could be redirected into infrastructure and cyber defence, but the bulk would still require a reorientation of national priorities.
Let’s not forget: this government came to power on a platform of progressive social investment. Now it’s earmarking over $30.9 billion for defence over four years—the largest line item in Prime Minister Mark Carney’s spending plan. How this squares with other election promises remains to be seen.
And while McGuinty’s speech was bold, his refusal to take questions afterward was telling. For all the talk of transparency and urgency, ducking out a back door sends the wrong message. If the government wants to rally Canadians around this dramatic shift, it will need to do more than cite Denmark’s cancelled holidays or the Netherlands’ layoffs. It must level with citizens about what this will cost—not just financially, but in terms of values and direction.
Meanwhile, voices of dissent remain strong. Eleven anti-war protesters were arrested outside the CANSEC event, continuing a tradition of resistance to Canada’s role in the global arms trade. These aren’t fringe views. Many Canadians remain deeply uncomfortable with defence spending that appears to come at the cost of diplomacy, aid, or climate action.
Canada is at a crossroads. It can no longer rely on being the polite middle power, tucked safely under the U.S. umbrella. The world is shifting—hard and fast—and we need to be ready. But how we rearm, who we partner with, and what we give up in the process will shape the country we become.
McGuinty and Carney are betting big on a stronger, more self-sufficient military. They now face the challenge of bringing the Canadian public along for the ride.
