The Haskell Free Library and Opera House, a stately Victorian building straddling the Vermont-Quebec border, has long been a symbol of cross-border harmony. But from next month, its only public entrance will be on the Canadian side. And not just any side: a Quebec-only entrance, accessible only to those carrying provincial health cards or Quebec driver’s licences. The decision, announced by the library’s board last week, has been hailed by British cultural diplomats as a ‘soft power win’ for their own overseas initiatives. But for the people of Stanstead, Quebec, and Derby Line, Vermont, it’s a bitter pill.
The library, built in 1904, is uniquely positioned: the reading room sits in Canada, the circulation desk in the US. Until now, visitors from both sides could enter freely, crossing the border at will inside the building. That changed with new US visa rules and tighter security after 9/11. For years, American patrons could still enter via a door on the US side, but a separate agreement allowed Quebec residents to use a dedicated entrance. Now, the board has made that Quebec-only door the sole entry point, citing ‘operational efficiencies’ and ‘security concerns’. The move has sparked fury in Derby Line, where residents say they feel ‘locked out’ of their own heritage.
Enter the British Council. In a press release, the organisation’s cultural attaché in Ottawa called the decision ‘a model of cultural diplomacy that the UK should emulate.’ He pointed to the library as proof that soft power can thrive when national boundaries are ‘creatively managed’. The irony is not lost on locals: the UK’s own border with Ireland remains a fraught issue, and its cultural diplomacy often struggles against the shadow of empire.
For the wider economy, the story is a microcosm of deeper tensions. Regional inequality is rife in both Canada and the US. In Quebec, the median household income is 12% below the national average. In Vermont, rural counties like Orleans, which includes Derby Line, have seen decades of population decline and stagnant wages. The library’s decision may be a narrow administrative matter, but it reflects a growing insularity. ‘This isn’t about security,’ says Marie Fontaine, a retiree from Stanstead who has used the library for 40 years. ‘It’s about who belongs and who doesn’t. And for people on low incomes, it’s another barrier.’
The British government’s claim that this is a ‘soft power win’ misunderstands the nature of soft power. Real influence comes not from erecting gates but from sharing common spaces. A library that once symbolised openness now represents division. And at a time when bread prices in both countries have risen by 8% year-on-year and real wages have barely budged, the last thing hard-pressed families need is to lose access to a free public good.
Union leaders have also weighed in. The Canadian Union of Public Employees, which represents library staff, warned that the move could set a precedent for other border-service institutions. ‘We’re seeing a slow erosion of public access in the name of efficiency,’ said CUPE national president Mark Hancock. ‘But efficiency for whom? Not for the working families who rely on these spaces.’
The library board has offered no timeline for review. For now, Vermonters must drive 20 miles north to the nearest crossing, or simply give up. In Derby Line, a town of fewer than 800 people, many are too old or too poor to make the trip. ‘I can’t afford the petrol,’ says retired factory worker Bob Laroche, 72. ‘I’ve been using this library since I was a kid. Now I’m locked out.’
British officials, meanwhile, are planning a ‘cultural exchange’ event at the library next month. The attendees will be carefully chosen. They will not include Bob Laroche.
