Downtown in most Atlantic Canadian cities, you’ll see plaques from countries like Ireland, Mexico, and Lebanon, indicating that an otherwise ordinary looking business such as a law firm or art gallery is also an honorary consulate. If you’re a visitor from abroad facing a lost passport, thorny business issue, medical emergency, or brush with the law, those signs are beacons of hope, reminders of the East Coast’s global links.
Honorary consuls aren’t ambassadors or diplomats. They’re volunteers, representing other countries’ business and cultural interests in Canada. Laurie Michell Brinklow, Iceland’s honorary consul in Charlottetown, P.E.I., explains.
“We are sent ballots for Icelandic absentee voting in their elections,” she says. “We visit citizens in hospital or if they’re arrested, and let the ambassador know. We facilitate official visits, maintain the ties.”
Island superpower
Honorary consuls don’t need family ties to the countries they represent. Brinklow’s link was her research. She’s an assistant professor with the Institute of Island Studies at the University of Prince Edward Island, and has been there since the 1990s.
The institute, according to its website, “focuses on the culture, environment, and economy of small islands … To be the leading centre of excellence on issues related to island studies scholarship, public policy, and engagement.”
Early in her career, that work started her on today’s path.
“We did a research project that took us to Iceland,” she recalls. “I kept going back and forth. I met a bunch of Icelanders and learned a lot about Iceland and all we have in common.”
She found a tiny island with rich rural traditions, facing economic storms and demographic challenges, but holding its own and staying true to his roots. For a Prince Edward Islander like her, there was instant kinship.
In 2015, Iceland was looking to grow its Canadian presence with an honorary consul in every province. A friend recommended Brinklow. After a conversation with Icelandic officials, the fit was apparent on both sides.
“Sounds like it’s a life appointment as long as I don’t screw up,” she laughs. “I haven’t really had to do much. We don’t have a lot of Icelandic citizens in P.E.I.”
Business promotion is key to the role. “For them it’s an inexpensive way of doing business around the world,” she says. “It’s a way to tap into opportunities, especially around the fishery. They have so much expertise. They’re open to partnerships and it’s my role to help make those introductions. I invited P.E.I.’s minister of agriculture to a special meeting in Iceland recently.”
Icelandic honorary consuls across Canada have quarterly virtual meetings with the country’s ambassador. Every five years, she and her fellow representatives worldwide gather in Iceland’s capital Reykjavik to discuss opportunities and experiences.
“It’s funny because I have no connections to business,” Brinklow says. “It’s the cultural thing and the island-to-island connection that drew me. What is it about islands? It’s almost imprinted on people who grew up on an island. The patterns and the way of life and the oceans, they become a part of who you are. That’s something special that island people have.”
Forged in war
While their histories are much older, Canada and the Netherlands have a special relationship stemming from the Second World War, when the Allies liberated Nazi-occupied Europe. Many Canadians, especially on the East Coast, have ancestors who fought to free the Netherlands. They grew up hearing stories of military service in the country, admiring tales of Dutch tenacity and courage under horrific circumstances.
“There’s a huge cultural component to what I do,” says Joyce Hoeven, the country’s honorary consul in Halifax. “Dutch people really value Canadians because of the liberation. That’s a big aspect of it.”
Hoeven has only been in the role a few months, but as a Dutch national fluent in the language, she’s jumped right in. She cherishes the cultural ties, while her experience as an international tax advisor is a natural fit.
“My Dutch has really improved,” she laughs. “The Dutch community isn’t very large here, but I’ve met a number of people and it’s nice to be able to speak with them in their native language … You meet a lot of folks who have emigrated and second-generation Canadians. There are so many connections in the economic sphere. I work with a lot of non-Canadians and Dutch folks, getting them what they need to be successful here.”
It’s two-way traffic. She’s also working to create opportunities in Europe for Canadian businesses.
“I don’t have consular duties, I can’t issue passports,” she says. “What I can do is always looking for opportunities to help my fellow nationals and create that economic win for both sides. It’s a strong connection between the two countries.”
The family business
For 30 years, Beth McGloan-Asimakos’s father, Tom McGloan, was Finland’s honorary consul in New Brunswick.
“I grew up meeting a lot of the ambassadors and diplomats that would come to the house,” she says. “Sometimes, I would be in the back seat when he was driving them around. It was intriguing.”
Tom McGloan died in 2005. In 2015, a family friend suggested Beth follow in his footsteps, as Finland sought a new honorary consul in the province. She breezed through the interviews and stepped into the family business. But it’s not the same as it was decades ago when her father was a corporate lawyer, with expertise in maritime industries.
She owns and operates Trinity Galleries in Saint John, N.B. “I do a lot of my networking through the art gallery business,” she says. “I’m the only art gallerist who shows up to all these meetings. My father, as a lawyer, represented a lot of Finnish companies. He was in Finland twice a year. From my work, it’s really not as busy as he was. There’s not as much of that kind of business now, more cultural connections.”
She recalls a recent trip to Finland with her fellow honorary consuls. “I wanted to do so much more than what everyone else was learning — energy, forestry. I was really interested in the arts and culture.”
With her gallery, she’s been able to indulge those explorations, in September hosting Finnish artist Eija Öhrnberg for the opening of her Winds of Finland exhibition.
Saint John has almost no Finnish expatriate community, but McGloan-Asimakos proudly announces her honorary consulate by flying the nation’s flag outside her gallery.
“It’s a real draw for anyone that’s been to Finland, which is always fun,” she says. “There’s such a similarity between the countries. I love to help out wherever I can. I’m happy Finland has joined NATO and they’re secure ... Just walking in my father’s shoes is a real honour, something I never thought of growing up.”
On the job
To be an honorary consul, you don’t have to be a diplomat, or even from the country you represent. “Honorary consular officers are local and regional citizens, most often Canadians, invited by a foreign country to represent its interests in an area or province on an honorary, unpaid basis,” explains the website of the Nova Scotia government’s protocol office.
Countries sometimes recruit honorary consuls, but most apply, similar to the process for a volunteer board position.
“The job requirements vary because not every country or embassy has the same needs,” says the Dutch government website. “Candidates’ conduct should be beyond reproach … An honorary consul should act with integrity, have a good reputation, and be able to facilitate contacts with the authorities in their country. They should also have an in-depth understanding of the local situation and speak the local language.”
Usually appointed for life, honorary consuls are volunteers, compensated for their expenses and earning a few perquisites, such as occasional travel to the country they represent. They and their consulates, usually wherever they work for their day jobs, have diplomatic protection under international treaty while carrying out their duties.