What exactly was the point of the recent visit to Canada by the US president? To put a human face on the leviathan to the south? To resolve nagging trade disputes? To drum up support for missile defence or shore up support for the ‘war on terror’? Was it a trial run for the president’s up-coming European tour? All of the above?

To listen to the post-mortem of the visit on the nation’s airwaves, the agenda must have been as brief as the president’s tour, and the goals just as modest. George W. Bush needed to emerge from his fortress and press the flesh of allies and trading partners. What better place to start than in relatively ‘safe’ Canada?

Prime Minister Paul Martin needed to show that his frequent junkets abroad did not preclude him from being prime ministerial at home. His search for an elusive majority in parliament demanded that he show resolution on softwood lumber and beef exports. At the same time he needed to re-assure White House officials that constructive dialogue would not be stymied by incompatible personalities – an oblique reference to his predecessor’s unsteady relationship with the man from Texas.

But when a US president is in town a Canadian prime minister can never just smile and wave. He must burnish his nationalist credentials lest his opponents (which include members of his own caucus) hurl accusations of pandering. Mr. Bush may have done his counterpart a favour by expressing his hope that Canada will sign onto his continental missile defence program. The consensus among media pundits was that Martin had been taken aback by the president’s remark; that their staffers had agreed that missile defence would not be discussed openly for fear of inflaming public opinion. Regardless of whether this is so, the president’s plug offered Mr. Martin the opportunity to repeat that Canada will resolve the matter at a time of its own choosing.

This serves two useful purposes. It shows that his government is quite capable of standing up to the super-power even on matters the latter considers critical to its own security. It also postpones indefinitely a decision that might conceivably cost Martin the majority he covets. For the embattled PM, all issues are seen through and electoral lens. All politics is local.

Reviewing the editorial comment from last week, one was left with the impression that Mr. Bush had descended like a tornado and scattered the prime minister and his advisors to the wind like so many lawn chairs. The analogy is borne out by a poll conducted by Decima Research, which found that a slight majority of Canadians believed that Martin had failed to promote Canada’s agenda. The prime minister secured but a vague commitment from Mr. Bush to work to lift the ban on Canadian beef, and no progress on softwood lumber is anticipated.  But if Mr. Martin was non-plussed by the lack of substance on these matters he wisely kept his frustrations to himself. Even for a president with a clear mandate, politics is equally local. Powerful interests in Congress and the private sector are sure to oppose any rapid unbinding of cross-border trade.

The heat and light generated by the visit and by the issues raised is attributable to the perennial Canadian need to maintain a ‘healthy’ distance from a country whose economic, political, and socio-cultural influence is so pervasive. Add to that a leader who elicits such strong reactions, and is it any wonder that Canada feels obliged to engage in some rather bizarre political behaviour to prove to itself that it is – wait for it – a distinct society.

The tendency to fall back on ‘sovereignty’ as a reason to prevaricate on uncomfortable policy matters such as missile defence points to a lack of political self-confidence in Ottawa in general, and on the government benches in particular. This in turn stifles healthy debate. It leads foreign dignitaries to wonder privately why a mature, industrialized country resorts to contrived bravado to temper its hyper-sensitivity to its neighbour’s every move. A wise man once said that country that truly believes in its own sovereignty does not need to remind itself (or others) of its existence.

Does the government’s minority status make this phenomenon even more acute? It shouldn’t. A minority government can be as clear in its articulation of Canada’s interests and as resolute in its defence of them as a majority parliament. Suggestions that Martin postpone a decision on missile defence until after the next election are unseemly insofar as they only encourage the government to abdicate its responsibility to legislate on behalf of all Canadians – even when the electoral tide is not fully in its favour.

A minority government cannot exploit party discipline to create an artificial consensus, or use a majority to rubber-stamp legislation. Instead, it must explain itself more fully to parliament and the wider public. It must reach across the floor of the House of Commons and persuade its erstwhile opponents why they should throw their weight behind what is being proposed – be it gay marriage, trade liberalization, or closer defence co-operation with the US.

Hung parliaments are feared by politicians whose only concern is control. Others see them as recipe for political deadlock. In truth, they force the government to work to achieve consensus. They do not preclude the introduction of bold policy initiatives. They create opportunities for national unity on the great issues of the day. 

Canadians may not realize this so soon after the Bush tour. With public and media attention concentrated on the president’s every word, little thought has been given to why reaction to the visit ranged from the polite to the hostile. Our collective ambivalence to our neighbour, our need to re-state our own identity before, during, and after the president comes calling originates in the uncomfortable realization that America’s is our alter-ego. We are culturally similar yet America has never seemed such a distant cousin. Most Canadians will by now have resigned themselves to Mr Bush’s re-election, but they sense that both he and his country pose a challenge to Canada’s political culture.

Some of Mr. Bush’s most vociferous critics were out in force in Ottawa, but when they retired from the barricades and put away their placards, did they have any greater understanding of the source of their own vitriol? What is commonly thought to be anti-Americanism may in actual fact be a profound sense of frustration and disbelief that the ‘other’ does not closely conform to one’s own value system, nor subscribe to one’s political priorities.

To the vast majority of Canadians, America is familiar territory. We could face our brethren to the south and say: ‘I know you. I recognize you as an image of myself. We are different, but in so many ways the same. Why do you not do as I do? What is wrong with you? There must be something wrong with you.’ Thus antipathy toward the US is antipathy toward ourselves. The result is a feedback loop that causes us to distrust America even more.

Mr. Bush is gone and, for a short time at least, we were left swirling in his wake. We will remain there so long as we choose to suppress a level confidence that should come to us naturally. Whether we elect a majority or minority parliament should be of no consequence. We are blessed in either case.

No doubt the self-analysis will continue; it is as Canadian as maple syrup – or the Alberta beef that the president was gleefully force-fed by his hosts. Still, it is curious that we must invoke another country to foster debate on our own identity. How bizarre that it took a presidential visit to stir the national soul. What a pity that we must struggle so mightily to do that ourselves.  

David Rudd is the President and Executive Director of the CISS.

Copyright CISS 2004

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