The Rise and Slow Decline of Jason Kenney

In 2014, Jason Kenney was the heir apparent to Steven Harper. Though there were a few others vying for the crown, Kenney was the leader of the pack. Already the most powerful minister in the federal government, he had shown a particular gift for wooing minority groups to the Conservative cause (he was dubbed “Curry in a Hurry” by his colleagues for his frequent appearances at community banquets across the country).

Kenney’s road to the top was a somewhat winding one. After attending a Jesuit university in California (he didn’t finish his degree) where he became a noted anti-abortion and anti-gay campaigner, he returned to Canada and briefly served as executive assistant to Ralph Goodale, the Liberal premier of Saskatchewan. Very shortly thereafter, he was hired to run the Alberta, then Canadian, Taxpayers’ Federation, a small but influential conservative lobby group. He entered federal politics, winning as a Reform MP in the 1997 election at the age of 29.

Eight years later, the path to the Prime Minister’s office seemed clear. They would easily win the 2015 election against the solid but uninspiring Tom Mulcair. The Liberal party was dead and the insult machine was already taking aim at new untried leader, Justin Trudeau, expecting to destroy his chances the way they had the previous two party chiefs. A few years later, Harper would retire and Kenney would be king.

 By 2015, things were not so clear. The NDP was climbing in the polls and it became clear the Conservatives were in for a fight. They responded by rolling out massive advertising buys in advance of the longest Canadian election campaign since 1872. The party’s coffers were full and they were sure they could easily outspend and outlast the opposition. It was the first of several key strategic errors, Harper and his crew would make.

The second was to underestimate Justin Trudeau. It was if they had come to believe their own propaganda. Trudeau had already won a seat (when Liberals all around were losing theirs) in Papineau, which had long been a stronghold of the separatist Bloc Quebecois. He then united a party that had been split into two factions for nearly twenty years. Yet, the Conservatives largely ignored him to take on Mulcair. Then came the first leaders’ debate, where Trudeau didn’t merely survive but was the consensus winner.

By the end of the campaign, the Conservatives were growing a little desperate. After taking a hardline against Muslim women wearing head scarfs when swearing their oath to Canada, a small bounce in the polls lead them to go all-in with the announcement of a “barbaric practices hotline,” to encourage Canadians to snitch on fellow citizens. Instead of wide popular approval, the proposal was widely condemned and ensured both the defeat of the Harper government and the entrenchment of a solid group of very conservative MPs and activists in the federal party. Kenney, always a loyal solder, had come out swinging in defense of the idea, saw much of his work with minorities washed away.

In the aftermath of the defeat, Harper resigned as leader and most leading Conservatives, convinced Trudeau would be invincible for at least 8 years, found something else to do, mostly in the cozy confines of corporate boardrooms. The federal party was left in the hands of a dozen lightweights who vied for the leadership. The final winner was Andrew Scheer, a pale version of Harper with a thin resume and few ideas. Maxime Bernier, who finished a close second, left in a snit to form the far right Peoples’ Party of Canada.

Jason Kenney had other ideas. The NDP shocked Canada by winning the 2015 provincial election in Alberta, leaving the right fragmented and fighting among themselves. Rather than pursue the federal party head in 2017, he chose to run for the Progressive Conservative leadership and, having won that, launched a campaign to “unite the right.” By 2019, he was solidly entrenched as the leader of the United Conservative Party, despite allegations of questionable (and perhaps illegal) tactics in the leadership campaign. In the subsequent election, he won a landslide victory.

It is difficult to know what Kenney had in mind at that moment. Was he satisfied to be premier of the 4^th largest province when the Prime Minister’s job had seemed so close? Did he see the premiership as a step back to Ottawa (despite the fact that no Canadian premier has ever become Prime Minister)? He had defied conventional wisdom before, why not again?

It hardly matters now. Oil prices that had peaked at over $100 a barrel in 2014 had fallen below $60 and remained stubbornly low, falling to just over $50 weeks after Kenney, a strong defender of oil and gas, was sworn in as Premier. Although Kenney had no control over the world price of oil, he claimed credit for its rise toward the end of 2019. Then COVID-19 struck and the price of oil collapsed, falling as low as $12 in April, 2020. Although the price has risen again as the world economy re-opens, the damage to the government’s finances, which had frequently relied on oil to keep provincial taxes the lowest in the country, was already done. Crippling budget cuts in the midst of the pandemic—while federal coffers were wide open—started the party’s slide.

The subsequent inconsistent and often dangerous handling of the pandemic infuriated both left and right in Alberta (though for very different reasons) and soon Kenney saw his personal popularity collapse (he is now the most unpopular elected leader in the country) and his party fall behind the NDP in the polls, as new extreme parties began to nip at his right flank. Having no room to maneuver on the left, he is now fighting a read guard action to preserve his leadership of the United Conservative Party. It is rumoured (though he denies it) that he even allowed some backbench MLAs negotiate with recent blockaders of the US border, a move that backfired when a cadre of well-armed extremists bent on murder was discovered in their midst.

Like most provincial premiers whose polls are sagging, Kenney is now trying to point the finger of blame at the federal government in Ottawa, with growing levels of cynicism and unreality. First came the absurd and pointless referendum on the equalization program, which Kenney (who had a major hand in designing the latest version) knows full-well is fully in the power of the federal government. Now, he is proposing to sue over the invocation of the Emergencies Act (which was passed by the government of Conservative PM, Brian Mulroney), although the basis for such a suit is utterly unclear.

Will it be enough to keep Mr. Kenney his job? He might well stave off a challenge by the right to remove him, though only by moving farther to the right himself. I know some of my progressive friends in Alberta are wondering how he possibly could go farther right. Just watch him.

He might decide that it is now or never and re-enter federal politics, but I think the well has been poisoned for him in the federal party. A failed provincial premier is unlikely to be a palatable option for the increasingly divided federal party. Ironically, Trudeau was not as invincible as they all thought and Kenney may now rue avoiding the federal leadership race in 2017, when the mantle might well have been his for the asking.

A year is an eternity in politics. Kenney may retain his leadership though winning a subsequent election when most urban areas in the province now solidly reject the far-right blandishments of their rural cousins, seems unlikely.

The political road may be ending for Jason Kenney but don’t shed too many tears for him. He has a career with his corporate friends to look forward to and, at the end of the day, a fat federal pension to retire on.

Photo by Jason Blackeye on Unsplash

Cracks in the River Ice

First let me make my most sincere apologies for the tardiness of this missive, but, glory be, I slept past my time this morn with no blaring trumpets to rouse me up.

On better days, it was my wont to walk along the river path. I would gaze in wonderment as the vast sheets of ice rubbed against each other. At any moment, a seemingly solid stretch of white would crack and reveal the dark water beneath. I still venture forth betimes but the glory of winter has been spoiled by the smudge of smoke that clouds our city’s air and the growing piles of refuse from this foul occupation.

Mayhap the river is not the only thing that cracks this February morning. Yesterday, the Lord Mayor stirred himself to make a proclamation, declaring what every citizen already knows, that the city is in a state of siege. The distant Duke and nearby Prince immediately pledged their aide and sent members of their guard to assist.

Last night, under the watchful eye of master archers, the guard staged a raid on the supplies of the horde, hauling away food and fuel for their malodorous siege engines and dismantling some of their rude structures. Despite their howls of outrage, only two of the invaders dared resist and they were hauled away to face some uncertain fate. The guard has vowed that any who attempt to bring succor to the intruders will be treated in like manner. The disparate and uncertain leaders of the horde have braved fierce words but the rest sit in silence, though that may not last.

The carters have declared it will be difficult to remove the siege engines blocking our byways if the horde refuses to cooperate. Some citizens have hinted darkly that the army might be called but the sound of hobnails on city paving stones is not a sound I wish to hear. Hopefully, it will not come to that.

In the meantime, lawyers argue before the assembled judges, seeking redress from oppression while the leaders of the horde squabble among themselves and whinge about their virtue.

Other cities have fared better in dealing with invading forces, perhaps learning from the mistakes our guard have made. The Captain of the Guard has been roundly chastised for his approach of “Slowly, Slowly” and much advice has been give as to what he should have done or should do now. I for one have no idea, having never served among the guard, nor dealt with an unruly mob (except for a brief skirmish in a tavern long ago in which I did not produce a brave account). Still, I’m sure his critics would have well foreseen the sudden events of ten days ago and acted in a more perspicacious manner.

Fire seems to be a new tool for the occupying force, a dangerous development in the crowded streets of the city’s heart. Flames have been ignited in metal caldrons throughout the passageways, giving off clouds of smoke and fouling the air. Worse, reports of attempted arson have begun to be reported though as yet the guard has not confirmed the details. The law will be harsh if it be proved against the perpetrators.

I think today I will walk by the river again and watch the shifting ice. While all may seem frozen and immobile now, time will pass and the river’s waters will flow again. It will be as if this winter of discontent was nothing but a fleeting dream. The losses we have suffered shall be repaid; the injuries inflicted will be made good. The righteous shall triumph and the angry, seething, hateful mob shall be dispersed and their memory erased from the chronicles of this time.

Photo by Gerald Berliner on Unsplash

Whither Boris?

Boris Johnson is nothing if not entertaining. A master prevaricator, he is never more adept, more charming, than when he lies about lying. Like many men of a certain age, he has not yet fully realized that nothing ever really disappears from the Internet. Or maybe, having survived so many so-called career ending scandals, he has come to believe the greatest lie of them all, that he is not only invincible but indispensable.

Every politician, every corporate executive or labour leader, every professor or pundit, every expert or, maybe even, every barista should have a sign somewhere in their house or place of work: The graveyards are full of indispensable people.

Just kidding about the barista—working stiffs know their labour is just a commodity, easily replaced and soon forgotten.

But has Partygate and the pork pie plot put an end to Johnson’s career? It’s much too early to say—check back in a week, because as they say, a week is a lifetime when it comes to politics.

There are certainly signs pointing to his demise—but there have been signs like this since he was a school boy at Eton where he was described by the masters as lazy and unreliable but was loved by his classmates who found him clever and entertaining. His time as a journalist was peppered with indiscretions—all forgiven.

When he first entered politics, then British PM, Conservative John Major had to be persuaded not to veto his candidacy before plunking him down in a riding in Wales where he was shellacked by the Labour party. But like a bad penny, Boris kept turning up, transforming his celebrity as an entertainer on English TV satires (he even won a British equivalent of an Emmy one year) into a successful run as Mayor of London. Returning to Parliament, he became a champion of Brexit, soon overshadowing the charmless Nigel Farage, and a thorn in side of PM Theresa May, whom he replaced after a caucus revolt forced her out. Boris, of course, had nothing to do with that; he was merely picking up the pieces and delivering Brexit.

When Parliament wouldn’t approve his deal and the Supreme Court said he had violated the law, he called a snap election in 2019 and delivered the biggest Conservative victory in more than 30 years, including winning seats Labour had held for nearly a century. Brexit was finalized shortly afterward.

Then came COVID. Like most Conservative leaders around the world, he first dismissed the danger, then imposed severe measures (while allowing plenty of room for cheating), then relaxed too soon only to have the virus come surging back. The economic disruption cause by Brexit was soon masked by the economic turmoil of COVID providing plenty of cover for Johnson to escape public blame.

Next came Omicron and the December crackdown that caused 90 Conservatives MPs to vote against the government, forcing Johnson to rely on Labour support to pass his legislation. As rumours began to swirl about lockdown parties at 10 Downing Street (the PMs official residence if you don’t know) not merely in 2020 but as recently as the night before Prince Phillip’s funeral, the public spoke and, in a by-election, defeated a Conservative candidate in a riding the party had held for 200 years. The only saving grace for Boris was that it was the Liberal Democrats rather than Labour that took the seat.

For the last month, Boris has been spinning and spinning. First, he said he wasn’t at the parties, then that he didn’t stay, then that he did stay but didn’t know it was against the rules and so on, you can see the pattern for yourself. Finally, he was forced to appoint an independent investigator into the business and is now asking (almost begging) his MPs to remain loyal until the report is in, hoping, perhaps against hope, that he will be exonerated.

Not everyone is willing to wait. This morning one Conservative MP, first elected in the 2019 sweep, crossed the floor to Labour. Another half dozen or more have filed letters of non-confidence in the PM. Only one person knows the total number of rebellious MPs but if it reaches 54 (15% of the Tory caucus), it will trigger a leadership review. Johnson may not necessarily lose a review vote but Theresa May didn’t lose either but was still ousted a few months later.

Will Johnson pull another escape act and maintain his Teflon reputation. Keep watching the headlines. If nothing else, it should prove entertaining. And the good news for the UK is that if Johnson does lose his job, he is unlikely to try to stage a coup.

Brought to you because truth is definitely stranger than fiction.

Talkin’ ‘Bout My Generation

The other day on Facebook I was arguing that it was time for elder politicians to step aside and let a younger generation take the lead. A counter argument was made that an aging population is well served by aging leaders. Apparently, that isn’t the way it works. One person called me ageist. Another suggested I was hinting at euthanasia. While I might accept the first charge, the latter astounding leap of logic suggests to me the onset of age-related dementia. Oh, wait, that’s ageist, too, and maybe a couple of other -ists as well.

Sorry. (Not sorry)

I believe great leaders know when their moment has come and they also know when it’s past. As my old boss, a Senator, used to say: politicians, like everything else, have a best before date. Yet, so many elder statesmen and women seem unable to grasp that simple concept.

In 3^rd world dictatorships, of course, staying on is simply a matter of keeping control of the army and the elites (often through bribes and other forms of corruption) and jailing (or killing) any opposition. It worked extremely well for Robert Mugabe who ruled until age 93 leaving Zimbabwe in tatters but his party still in power when he left.

Angela Merkel certainly understood the concept of letting go. She stepped down as leader of her party after 18 years in 2018. She then served out the remainder of her term as Chancellor of Germany, retiring in 2021 at the age of 66. In America, presidential candidates in recent years seem to get their start at that age.

Merkel not only left in good order when she still had a reasonable chance of getting re-elected; she gave her successor at the Christian Democratic Union (conservative party) several years to establish himself before the next round of elections. It didn’t help, as the leader of the Social Democratic Party (progressive party) has since taken the helm.

Of course, in democracies, we, the people, do have the choice of “retiring” politicians who have outlived their usefulness. Unfortunately, because of the power of incumbency and the vast sums of money professional politicians can raise and spend (especially in America), the will of the people can be somewhat blunted. The average age of the American Senate is 64 years. Five are in their 80s and 23 more in their 70s; only one is under forty. It is the oldest Senate in American history. Members of Congress are younger at 57 but there are still nearly thirty over the age of 75 which, by the way, is the age of mandatory retirement for Senators and Supreme Court Justices in Canada.

There is no retirement age for Canadian Members of Parliament but it is a well known but little talked about secret that Prime Ministers routinely ask older MPs and Cabinet Ministers to step aside. If they refuse, Ministers find themselves relegated to the backbenches or, in extremis, sitting MPs have their nomination refused by the PM in the next election. It cuts both ways; Margaret Thatcher was pushed out of office at age 65 because of a caucus revolt. Age was not the main a factor but she had drifted away from the views of her party and of the public and refused to compromise. The iron will that had served her so well now became a liability once she was viewed as no longer in tune with the times.

I worked for fifteen years in the Canadian Senate. I met a lot of Senators, a few of whom were still vital, contributing members of the legislature right up to their final day on the job. I knew a lot more who had lost their vital spark, beginning in their early 70s. They weren’t incompetent as such; they just grew disinterested. Other things—their families, their health, philanthropy, the next life—began to be more important to them.

Don’t get me wrong; older people can play a valuable role in government as advisors and repositories of wisdom and experience but maybe most of them are no longer sufficiently part of the zeitgeist and invested in the future to really be in control any longer. As one indigenous leader put it to me: some people are elders, others are just old.

Maybe, to paraphrase what The Who said 50 years ago, maybe my generation should just fa – fa – fa – fade away.

Photo by WJ on Unsplash

Alexa

Yesterday came the news of the death of Alexa McDonough, former leader of the New Democratic Party of both Canada and, previously, Nova Scotia. Since then, memories and tributes have poured in from across the political spectrum.

Alexa was an early political mentor of mine and a good friend when I really needed one. I had been active in the party since the age of 14, when I sat on my first provincial constituency executive. I attended my first convention at 17, the weekend before I started university in 1972. Bob Rae was the featured speaker and he didn’t disappoint though what I really remember was his piano playing in the hotel lounge.

Alexa wasn’t there. At the time, she was still in the process of becoming disillusioned with the Liberal party of Gerald Regan; she joined the NDP in 1974, by which time I was living in another province.

I met Alexa for the first time in 1979 when we were both candidates in the federal election (we also both ran in 1980). All the Nova Scotia candidates had come together for a day to share thoughts, discuss the platform and get our pictures taken with leader, Ed Broadbent. I met a lot of people that day but only two really stood out for me: fello candidate Dennis Theman, a young legal aid lawyer, who became a close friend for a number of years and Alexa, a calm determined woman with a passion for social justice. We met again during the 1980 election and it was then I began to see her leadership qualities.

I had moved to Halifax in late 1979, before returning to my home riding to run in the winter of 1980. I had recently received my MA in Social and Political Thought from York University and, as you can imagine, Halifax employers were beating down the door to hire me. Well, not so much. I didn’t know too many people in Halifax so when Alexa offered to introduce me to a couple of folks who might help, I jumped at the chance.

One was her father, Lloyd Shaw, a retired industrialist (who had as a young man been the head of policy for the CCF) with extensive connections throughout the city, and the world, for that matter. Quite apart from any help he might provide, my long conversations with him were like water to a thirsty man. Lloyd directed me to several possibilities which did generate some short contracts that got me through the spring but it was the introduction to Alexa’s former boss, Harold Crowell, head of Social Planning for the City of Halifax that turned the corner for me. My hour-long meeting with him resulted in a three-month contract to do research, which transferred into acceptance into the administrative training program at the City. Without Alexa’s references and constant encouragement, I have no idea how my life would have gone.

When the leader of the NS NDP resigned in the spring of 1980, I, along with countless others, supported Alexa’s decision to run for the leadership. It was a turbulent time in the party with a nasty split between the mainland and Cape Breton but, in the end, Alexa easily won the leadership in the fall of 1980. I was elected at the same time to the provincial council as VP, Policy. Dennis Theman was one of the other two VPs. I can’t say I served with distinction, at least not initially. My first self-defined assignment was to consolidate all the party’s formal policy into a single document. It was a too big a job for me and I was too proud to ask for help so I eventually had to confess my failure before the entire executive.

All Alexa said was: What can I do to help? She listened and then suggested a couple of people she thought would work well with me to get the job done. Needless to say, when the next deadline arrived, my team was able to present a finished product. That incident taught me so much: how to stay calm and focused in the face of adversity, how there is always strength in numbers and how the work is more important than anything. Her ability to put the right people together and to build strong teams was something I strove to do for the rest of my working life.

After I moved to the NWT in 1982, I saw Alexa from time to time when I returned to Halifax for visits. She always seemed to find time in her schedule for coffee or a brief chat and had the ability to make it seem we had never parted ways. Gradually, of course, visits became less frequent and we largely lost touch.

The last time we met was just before the 2008 election. I was working on Parliament Hill for Liberal Senator, Nick Sibbeston, and Alexa stopped us to say hello. I was surprised she recognized me after all those years but she greeted me warmly. When Senator Nick apologized for needing my brain to help him with his work, she said that was fine and that she was sure my heart was still on the left.

Which it is. Good-bye Alexa, you will be missed.

Equalization

You think I am going to talk about the labyrinthine system that transfers Federal money to various provinces to ensure every Canadian receives roughly the same level of health, education and other services. Maybe later. This is more important.

Yesterday, the first details were released of an agreement in principle to reform the indigenous child welfare system in Canada and to compensate those individuals who suffered harm from it over the last 30 years. Roughly $40 billion has been set aside, divided equally between reform and compensation. That seems like a lot of money but, in the bigger scheme of things (e.g., pandemic support programs) it is not and it is long past due.

There are lots of twists and turns in this story. Child welfare advocates and indigenous leaders have been pushing the federal government to make these changes for more than 15 years. Parliament recognized the problem by passing Jordon’s principle in 2007 but the government chose to take the narrowest possible interpretation of that and still failed to act. Slowly, indigenous efforts began to make inroads but it took a Human Rights Commission ruling (upheld by a federal court judge, even though the HRC may have overstepped their authority) to raise the ongoing discussions from a simmer to a boil.

Though many doubted such intense negotiations could succeed in the brief time allowed, they did, proving that much can be accomplished when decision makers (as opposed to judges) focus their attention on a problem and work collaboratively for the public good. Much work remains to be done but the roadmap has been drawn and I trust Cindy Blackstock and others will keep up the pressure and the package will be delivered as described.

This result is what reconciliation looks like. It came about from a government-to-government negotiation, directly involving Ministers of the Crown and Indigenous Leaders, rather than as an imposition by what is, after all, a colonial system of law. By moving from recompense for victims to an indigenous-led reform negotiated as equals, this kind of settlement is exactly what is needed to bring Canada’s relationship with Indigenous people into the 21^st Century.

And it won’t be the last.

And that’s why I called this blog “Equalization.” Ever since Canada became Canada (and before that, too) indigenous people have been treated unequally. That inequality began when we treated them like incompetent wards of the state (to this day, some status Indians must have their last will and testament approved by a Federal Minister) or, at best, as second-class citizens, unable to vote until 1960 (unless they gave up their culture and community) and indigenous veterans denied recognition and benefits for decades.

Even after 1982, when indigenous rights were affirmed in the constitution and serious negotiations began across Canada to realize those rights (and yes, I know, the first comprehensive claim was settled with the Cree of northern Quebec before that date but as a general rule…), the federal (and provincial) governments were miserly and litigious. The general opinion of the Justice department was to deny, deny, deny until the courts forced them to accept. But it didn’t stop there.

Early on in my work for the indigenous Senator from the NWT, I dug into the levels of service provided to First Nations communities, compared to non-indigenous communities. Historically, it was the job of the then Department of Indian Affairs to provide provincial type services like health, education and municipal tasks like water and sewer. On a per capita basis, DIAND never was close to provincial standards (made worse by the isolated nature of many communities and economies of scale) but after funding was essentially frozen in the late 90s for more than two decades, indigenous communities fell farther and farther behind.

It was, surprisingly enough, the Harper government that reversed this trend. Although they had rejected the Kelowna Accord (an agreement that took 2 years to negotiate—I know I was there, as was Senator Patrick Brazeau), Harper eventually implemented all of the hard service (water and sewer infrastructure for example) and a good portion, though far from all, of the soft service funding as well (health and education). What he neglected was the smallest but probably the most significant: funding for improved governance and economic development. Still, it was a significant improvement on historical trends and it is one of the few things I give his government credit for.

Progress has been made since 1982. Over 30 comprehensive claims have been settled granting land, money and self-government rights to communities across the country; the specific claims system (which compensates First nations for illegal acts by government agents—there were thousands of those throughout history) has largely been fixed, the Residential School apology and settlement was made which led to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, but this agreement may be the most important, not because of the size of the settlement but because of the way it came about and will be implemented, as a partnership between governments.

Canadians can hold their heads high today but only for a moment. Then we have to put our heads down and work to fix the other inequities that still exist for Indigenous Peoples in this country.

Leadership

Everybody says they want strong leadership from our prime ministers and presidents. But what do they mean by that? Some want a command and control approach while others see that as authoritarian and dangerous (can you say fascist?). They prefer team leaders, a first among equals who consults widely and only acts when a consensus emerges. They are dismissed as dithering snowflakes. And the division is largely on generational lines.

This came crystal clear during a chat I had over lunch with old political friends. And when I say old, I mean I was the youngest person there. The topic of Wilson-Raybould and Philpott came up and we all agreed it had been a serious matter. Then one of the women asked: Why the hell didn’t Trudeau throw them out of caucus sooner? Why did he let them continue to say they had no confidence in him? It made him look weak.

It was in fact quite unprecedented. No Canadian Prime Minister I can think of would have tolerated what those two former Cabinet Ministers said and did. Harper, Chretien, even the great ditherer Martin would have dumped them from caucus forthwith. And it is not as if Trudeau has not been precipitous in dropping people from Cabinet and caucus—he did it to four men (2 were expelled and 2 left “voluntarily”) as soon as a whiff of sexual impropriety arose.

But this was different. Two high-profile women, potential future leaders, had, for whatever reasons (and I am not quite inclined to fully believe either side as to what those reasons were), turned on the government, in some cases testifying—but never quite delivering the killing blow but always promising more to come—and in others giving damaging interviews to major media outlets (though again filled more with innuendo than actual evidence). One refused to show up for votes in the house that could have brought the government down; the other secretly taped a senior public servant and then released the tape without consulting him. Still, the PM did not act, continued to say the caucus welcomed diverse views.

The turning point came when Philpott came to caucus to, according to some, say a mea culpa and try to walk back on her interview in MacLean’s. The caucus listened—though apparently not very politely—and she quickly made an exit. The Prime Minister—who swore when he assumed the leadership that there would be no repetition of the old Chretien/Martin internal party wars—had what he wanted. Where previously, a significant fraction of the caucus was prepared to continue to support the membership of the dissidents in their party, now, to a man and woman, they had had enough. No vote was held, because the Liberal caucus had never agreed on that procedure for dealing with caucus membership (and remember those who left unwillingly—no vote being held). And no one was willing to risk the recently achieved unity by demanding one.

The next day, the two MPs became independents. While one has talked about running for another party, the other has not indicated her intent. My prediction: after the October election, we will never see them on a national stage again. History, and the way the electorate actually decides who to vote for (hint: it is almost never due to the local candidate’s popularity), is certainly not on their side.

In the meantime, the unfortunate PM is dismissed as weak by one side and unfair by others, even though he acted in a manner quite consistent to the way he had promised to act, the way most of his generation want their leaders to act. Well, we all get to judge next October.

And that’s ten minutes.

Rock Stars

A recent article called into question the “progressive” agenda of the new leader of Ireland. Young, good-looking, openly gay and of mixed race, his election as Taoiseach (leader) was hailed as step into modernity for the people of Ireland. Certainly, Ireland seems ready for such a move, having recently approved gay marriage despite the opposition of the Church and many conservative politicians.

Yet, the policies of Leo Varadkar remain decidedly neoliberal in most areas and his support for women in a decidedly patriarchal and Catholic state has been called into question. How could this have possibly happened?

Well, give your head a shake. Varadkar was elected head of a centre-right political party, having been a long time member and MP. This didn’t happen by accident. He was elected leader not because he was gay and mixed-race but despite of it. Party members selected him (he has yet to face the people in an election) because he shared their values: more progressive on a few things but generally a conservative at heart.

Why do progressives fool themselves into thinking that politicians are equally progressive when it is clear that they are not? Certainly the fact they are better than the alternatives is a factor but I also put it down to the “rock star” factor.

We have a tendency to see certain kind of people – young (but not too young), good looking, energetic and athletic, well-spoken but not snooty—as somehow imbued with the royal jelly. They have a quality—often undefinable—that makes us see them as more than they are. While anyone who gets to be leader of a country or even a political party is a cut above average, they are still human, with human limitations. Not only that, they are also exactly who they appear to be; exactly who they’ve always been—no matter what shine they try to put on it.

The same can be said of France’s new president—elected as much to keep the ultra-right Le Pen out of office as for any other reason. Macron was viewed as a fresh face and a new approach and, even, by some, though certainly not by all, on the French left as progressive and forward-thinking. That was before he announced that he wanted to govern France like the god Jupiter. Yet, the president is exactly what he has always been, what he showed himself to be as a Minister (who quit in a huff) in the previous socialist government: a market-oriented liberal with some progressive views and a decidedly neo-liberal bent.

The same might be said of Canada’s own Justin Trudeau. I voted for him and generally like him but my vote was based on “he was better than the alternative” –including the party of the left at that time. While by nature and inclination a democratic socialist, I wanted Harper out and Trudeau was the best bet to do it when Election Day came.

But I was never under the illusion that he was left-wing or even slightly more than left of centre. He is a liberal with progressive views on some issues (women, indigenous people and the role of science) and very pro-market liberal views on taxation and, I suspect, the environment. But he looks like a rock star and still seems better than the alternatives. Though that may change if we actually get a leader who was a rock star.

Of course, the United States doesn’t suffer from this problem. Few of their current leaders or potential leaders have rock star qualities. They best they have to offer the public is reality-show bozos and aging hippies. But don’t worry – I’m sure Americans will find their own shining political star to lead them on and let them down.

And that’s ten minutes.