The Long Battle for the Maple Kingdom

Canadian Maple Syrup ‘Rebels’ Clash With Law? Marquel, TPVs NYTimes Oh Canada Section correspondent, could not believe his eyes, so he read it again. The second time he turned on the light.

Harvesters in Quebec, who provide 70 percent of the world’s supply, must sell through a central system, but some flout the requirement.

This is Canada, where the byword is “maple syrup matters.”

It’s the land where courtesy and politesse outweigh a punch in the noise. And where everybody lives in a tiny strip of land just 50 miles north of the border just in case a fast trip down south is necessary. Usually just to make sure Canada is still a billion per cent better than the U.S.

There’s a war going on up north. They call it the maple syrup war.

The farmers are selling direct to the buyer, endangering the cartel the government set up a few decades ago to keep prices high and stable. But maple syrup farmers are like anyone else you might meet. Some are even terrorists. They load up their trucks with moonshine maple syrup and head down south. It’s a dangerous ride and, if in danger of capture, they pull a lever and 600 gallons of syrup plaster the roadway. Three patrol cars are or were still stuck on highway 93 for four months because hardened maple syrup is the closest thing nature makes to super glue.

If you travel down highway 93, even today, you’ll see 12 tires stuck vertically to the road. They were able to remove the cars from the tires, but not the tires from the road. As cars pass, they are reminded of the vicious violence tearing their country apart.

Called IEDs, for Intercountry Érable Diversions, érable being French for maple, the threat of more IEDs popping up across this vast nation (second largest in the world) seems considerable.

But Canada, along with politesse and courtesy, is the nation of understatement. Although fear has coated the highway system, travelers seem used to it.

“Maple syrup is nothing new to us. It’s like curling. It could drive you crazy if you let it, but the trick is just to ignore it and make believe it’s something from Africa.”

So life goes on. The main reason the Canadians, and specifically the Quebecois, have not beaten back this threat is their almost intolerable attachment to pleasantries. I went with one of their patrols.

They show up at a farmers house, and instead of saying, “come on out, we’ve got you surrounded,” they knock on the front door announcing, “excuse me but, if you don’t mind too much we are going to surround you.

Would you care to come out for a chat first?”

The farmer shouts from an upper floor, “Oh I’m terribly sorry chaps, but I really can’t do that. Can you possibly excuse me?”

There are sounds of a back window opening, and the cops yell back, “No, excuse us.”

As the sound of the farmers car door closing rings out, his voice is clear, “No, excuse me.”

And of course the police, as everywhere, need to have the last word, “Not at all, excuse us.”

And so the war goes on. The minister of defense says,

“There’s light at the end of the tunnel.”

But as more and more IEDs are spotted on roadsides from Baffin Bay to Kelowna, the farmers movement is gaining control of a significant swath of the world’s second largest nation, erecting what they call a Maple Kingdom, and asserting that the light is no more than the earthy glow of barrels of maple syrup obstructing the tunnel’s end.

Peace talks are being moderated by an Inuit group. But they have been so Canadianized that for three weeks they have not yet gotten past the introductions and endless strings of “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” “No it’s my fault,” “No it’s mine,” “mine,” “mine,” up until sometime after noon when everything stops after somebody whispers, “teatime.”

Marquel hitched back home, which took forever until he learned not to say thank you but just nod in the driver’s direction. He couldn’t wait to have some pancakes, butter, and a gallon and a half of cheap moonshine maple syrup. Yum.

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By MARQUEL: The Long Battle for the Maple Kingdom