SETTLING into the free-form suede couch in Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau's newly decorated Ottawa office, Richard Nixon observed how relaxed the two leaders were in their talks. "With ongoing negotiations, it is easy for us to get together," he said. "We are up on our differences and we don't face the uncertainties of new positions."
Uncertainties, no. The differences between Canada and the U.S. are well understood by the two governments, and refuse to go away. Thus, Nixon spent the better part of two days in Ottawa last week trying to patch up a tattered neighborly relationship.
The differences are mostly economic, and stem from Washington's attempts since last August to shore up the U.S. balance of trade. Canada, which is the U.S.'s largest trading partner, was wounded by Nixon's sudden decision to impose a since-rescinded surcharge on imports. Washington, in turn, was annoyed last fall that the Canadians were reluctant to revalue their dollar.
Although those particular issues are now moot, the atmosphere has been further clouded by Treasury Secretary, John Connally's insistent demand that Ottawa make certain new economic concessions; notably a revision of the 1965 Canada-U.S. auto pact, giving Canada a bigger share of joint car production. So far, Ottawa has refused to budge, and talks have bogged down in ill feeling. American negotiators speak disparagingly of Ottawa's "bush-league mandarins." Trudeau has cracked that "with friends like Secretary Connally, who needs enemies?"
The Treasury demands added political voltage to an atmosphere already charged with Canada's perennial worries about U.S. "cultural imperialism" and its impact on Canadians' cherished separate identity. In addition, there are more Canadian fears about U.S. control of its economy. American corporations own 76.4% of Canada's oil and coal resources, 99% of its oil refineries, 58% of its manufacturing—and 90% of all factories with more than 5,000 employees. Moreover, Washington has been pressing Ottawa to share "continental" energy supplies; particularly natural gas. Some Canadians have read this as an opening bid in a long-range determination by the U.S. to take over their energy resources.
Nixon's mission last week was thus one of reassurance—aimed primarily not at settling specific differences, but at improving the soured diplomatic tone. Mindful that a demonstrator got through police guards last October and grabbed visiting Soviet Premier Aleksei Kosygin, the Canadians took extraordinary precautions for Nixon's security. Plainclothes, Mounties, and U.S. Secret Servicemen even hosed down the mushy snowbanks near Parliament Hill, to eliminate the potential threat of snowballs being hurled.