Paul Martin, nationalist: I agree with Stephen Harper and Jack Layton, that Paul Martin rings false when he comes on like Joe in the old beer ad (“I am Canadian”). But calling someone phoney is always a heavy accusation that makes you wonder how you dare and how you know.
In this case, I’d say it’s related to the personal tone in the Martin response to U.S. Ambassador David Wilkins (“I am not going to be dictated to”). He sounds defensive and self-centred, a bit childish and foot-stamping. It’s not how you assert firmly held convictions.
Contrast the Martin critique of the U.S. at the climate-change meeting last week: “There is such a thing as a global conscience . . .” He sounded firm and undefensive, i.e., genuine. He used to be his party’s environment critic; maybe he felt more at ease.
He does seem to deal more credibly with global or universal issues than specifically Canadian ones. I mean, this is the businessman who registered his Canadian ships under foreign flags of convenience. He didn’t get all huffy and patriotic then. For an illuminating parallel, recall Liberal leader John Turner in 1988, replying to business attacks on his opposition to free trade by saying the issue would be decided “by the Canadian people, not the money markets.” No petulance, just clear and principled.
The Martin response had the sound to me of a line calibrated to party needs at a moment in the campaign, then written to that measure and handed to him to read. Maybe it came from staffer Scott Reid, who has to do something with his time since he was sent into solitary.
Having said this, let me add that I am as irritated by the widespread media posturing over the exchange as by Paul Martin’s. They burst their breeches letting us know how fake and calculated they thought his remarks were. “Martin cranks up nationalist rhetoric,” headlined The Globe and Mail. On CTV, Lloyd Robertson and Lisa LaFlamme drowned out each other’s chortles. In most cases, the media reported their own interpretation before, or instead of, the story.
The reason you should start with the news and save the commentary isn’t some academic belief in “objectivity”; it’s due to respect for your audience. Give them a chance to interpret for themselves, before larding on your own brilliant, jaded views. Even then — please provide evidence.
Change your underwear: The only motif that has emerged from this unwanted, unloved election so far, where the numbers rarely move and barely jiggle, is that voters want change. The polls ask about it obsessively. On Tuesday, The Globe reported that 57 per cent want a change in government; yesterday, it was 53 per cent, up from 45 per cent last May.
But this is one slippery phrase: It’s time for a change. It’s always time for a change — if it’s for the better. That’s the rub. It’s like polling people to find out if they want lower taxes. Yes, they do. But wait — it all depends on what they have to lose in the bargain.
Change was the watchword of the free-market, free-trade, neo-con globalization of the 1990s. That involved a change from a world in which a few mighty corporations had vast, unwarranted power and influence to one in which they had even vaster power and influence with even fewer constraints wielded by political and elected forces. Yes, it was change, right back to the laissez-faire, child-labour mindset of the mid-19th century. The damage is still being undone.
For my money, the issue in politics is never change; it’s always power. You judge a change by whether it provides more power or less, to the people, or the already lordly. Better no change than bad change.
Whoops: In last week’s column, I badly botched the meaning of B.C.’s electoral reform proposal, known as single transferable vote (STV). Worse, I made the botch sound as if it came from the mouth of the affable, erudite Gordon Gibson. What Gordon was eloquent on was: (1) the self-serving motives of party bosses in denigrating and opposing STV; and (2) the glorious democratic achievement of B.C.’s citizens assembly. The misrepresentation of STV as something much simpler than it actually is was all mine: a classic, cautionary case of brain cramp.