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All eyes on Ignatieff

Does Canada deserve Mickey I.?/Bobbity’s smooth move
http://unambig.com/does-canada-deserve-mickey-i-bobbitys-smooth-move/

John Robson of the Ottawa Citizen  wonders where the Mickster’s brains are at, and why we should even bother to care about winning a (temporary) seat on the UN Security Council...

Mark
Ottawa
 
Friday, September 24, 2010
Blogs The Hill
Reaction to Harper’s United Nations Speech
By DAVID AKIN
Last Updated: September 23, 2010 5:30pm


Prime Minister Stephen Harper delivered a speech this afternoon at the UN General Assembly that was a “straight-out pitch” for a seat on the UN Security Council. Some reaction:

Bob Rae, Liberal Foreign Affairs critic:

The key thing is this is a bid for Canada. This is not a bid about one government or another government. I think what I found in Mr. Harper’s speech was that he emphasized Canada’s 65-year commitment to the United Nations and I think that is the point. It is a 65-year commitment, it is not a one or two or three-year commitment. It is not about what a government has done this year or last year, it is about what Canada has done over – over a very long time in our history at the – at the UN and on the world stage.

And that is why – I think all Canadians would be very supportive of a place for Canada on the Security Council, not based on the record of the last year or two or three one way or the other, but based on what we as a country have done over – over 65 years, since the formation of the United Nations in San Francisco in 1945. I think that is the key point.

I think the case for Canada is very very strong and I think the case was made effectively by the prime minister, but I think frankly it transcends partisanship and it transcends one political party or another, you know, when the prime minister is at the United Nations, speaking on behalf of Canada and talking of 65 years of Canadian experience, that is, I think, a story that everybody needs to hear and he wasn’t just talking about his own government, he was talking about the achievement sand the accomplishments of many different governments and I think that is the way we should approach it. I think we would be much better off in foreign policy if we looked much longer and harder at the things that we are doing together as a country and not see it as some – as some partisan exercise. As far as I’m concerned, it is not a partisan exercise and I think that is the approach that we should be taking.

http://www.torontosun.com/blogs/thehill/2010/09/23/15456111.html
 
Even Bob Rae has good days.

+1 for that one, Bob.

Now let's see you keep the same level head and generous spirit in other matters, and maybe I'll be more attentive to what you have to say...
 
I listened to Michael Ignatieff's concession speech last night: it was elegant and thoughtful, rather like the man himself.

I doubt he will have much to say about the future of the Liberal Party of Canada - and that's probably a good thing because, despite the idealism which we saw in the speech at the very top of the first page of this thread, he appears to have had little to say that Canadians, even traditional Liberals, wanted to hear.

I think his line about learning all the lessons from defeats was especially memorable and it is one we should all apply in our own lives. Just as in the military, where the study of our recent defeats often offers more and better lessons than the study of our distant victories, so, for political parties and individual, a careful, honest, clear eyed analysis of setbacks is more productive than resting on one's laurels.
 
E.R. Campbell said:
I think his line about learning all the lessons from defeats was especially memorable and it is one we should all apply in our own lives. Just as in the military, where the study of our recent defeats often offers more and better lessons than the study of our distant victories, so, for political parties and individual, a careful, honest, clear eyed analysis of setbacks is more productive than resting on one's laurels.
Once again, Mr. Campbell, you have provided us with some very sage words.

My initial take, so soon after the election, is that there are many lessons for all parties.

For the Liberal Party of Canada, they don't need massaging, but I think massive surgery is required.  Dominic Leblanc last night used the term "Centrist" several times during an interview, which was conducted before the polls closed in Quebec and west.  I'm not sure if it was broadcast widely.  I think that four years of building a strong, centrist message would be welcome by many Canadians.  For the NDP, I think that they are the benefactors of a mild federalist surge in Quebec, and they are the only party that even comes close to the policies of the BQ, so it was a natural shift for them.  For the Conservatives, I believe that they benefitted most from the implosion of the Liberal Party.  Looking at where the votes went from the Liberals in Canada (not including in Quebec), there was a split from the Red to both Orange and Blue.

But it's soooo early.
 
Here, reproduced under the Fair Dealing provisions (§29) of the Copyright Act from the Globe and Mail, is an article about Michael Ignatieff's exit from Canadian partisan politics:

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/politics/exit-michael-ignatieff/article2013347/
EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW
Exit, Michael Ignatieff

MICHAEL VALPY
Ottawa - From Saturday's Globe and Mail


Last updated Saturday, May. 07, 2011

Michael Ignatieff serves tea on a grey afternoon in the formal sitting room of Stornoway, the official Ottawa residence of the Leader of the Opposition. He wears a comfortable sweater over an open-necked shirt, moccasins with no socks. A cat wanders across laps.

He and his wife, Zsuzsanna Zsohar, will be moving soon – to be replaced by Jack Layton and Olivia Chow.

web-fo-ignatief_1273049cl-3.jpg


For Mr. Ignatieff, the Liberal leader who presided over the unprecedented humiliation of his party and lost his own riding in the tumultuous, harum-scarum election campaign, the detachment from politics has begun.

He has agreed to sit down with me and talk about his election campaign experience because the two of us, it seems, have been discussing his political career since it commenced five years ago. He will not be giving other interviews for a while, he says.

He pours tea. He looks into himself as a politician, he considers the political image that his opponents and the media constructed, he talks about why he wanted to become prime minister.

He had the right message for Canada, he says, but he was the wrong messenger.

Your statement on election night has been praised for being moving, praised for its sincerity. You said you learn best from your defeats. You're not really programmed for defeat. You've been shaped to win all your life. My recollection is that the only defeat you've really experienced is when you got down to Harvard from University of Toronto as a freshly minted graduate student and discovered you were no longer the brightest kid on the block. How are you going to take this as a defeat, what's it going to mean to your personality? You were shaped by your father to win. In your last book, you saw your destiny to be prime minister ...
I would respectfully quarrel with “destiny.” There is no such thing, with all due respect. It's just ridiculous. I wanted to be prime minister, but destiny? Hell no. Defeat? All I said on Monday night wasn't meant to open my veins, it was just to say, “Yes, I've learned much more from losing than winning.” My sense of my own life is that I've lost as often as I've won, actually. I mean in the same sense that a ballplayer ... you know the greatest ballplayers ever to play the game bat .300. That's how I think of it. And I think there's things to learn from this; they're all about resolution and humility. Just that simple.

Are you okay with humility?
Well (laughter) everyone always says about me that it doesn't come naturally, but you know, I'm learning.

I asked graduate students at University of Toronto's Massey College [where Mr. Ignatieff will become a senior resident], “What do you think of Michael Ignatieff?” One postdoctoral student in English said, “I don't know what I think of Michael Ignatieff because everything I hear about him I've been told by others.” She said she never hears what you say coming through. Is she correct? Is that part of what happened?
Yes, maybe. There's me, I'm sitting six feet away from you. There I am. And then there's next to me a creature over whom I've had some control but not all that much, as it turned out. And I think one of the key things in politics is to control that other creature. I think anybody who ... I was going to say, “Anybody who meets me loves me.” (Laughter.) You know, I've had one of those lives where before I get into the room some people have an idea about me. Sometimes I can correct that idea, sometimes I can't. And I'm kind of philosophical about that. What I loved about politics was the people. I really loved meeting people, being with people, learning from people, and I don't mean that in the abstract. I can think of the guy in the cowboy hat at a meeting in Sudbury on Thursday night [before the election]. ... I can see him, I can remember what he said to me. ... You know, I can go on like this for half an hour. And I hope that he came away with a feeling that he was heard and that I had respect for him, and I'd like that to be true for everybody I met. Not that they agreed, but they thought that I was listening.

But you know, all I can say is that you do your best here. There's a lot about people's images of you and ideas of you that you just can't fix because you're not even aware they're there until it's too late.

This crafted image of you as insincere, as just visiting, as elitist, it had an astonishing strength, a strength with well-educated young Canadians. Why didn't you respond to the attack ads?
We responded with the resources we had. And we responded also in the only way I knew how, which was to get out on the road ... 70,000 kilometres of four stops a day, then 40 or 50 open-mike town halls, then an election campaign in which I was out there without a Teleprompter, without notes, taking questions, just “All right, take a look.” That was our reply. I mean, let's be clear, I couldn't turn on the Super Bowl, the Oscars, Hockey Night in Canada or Grey's Anatomy without seeing some lies spread about my allegiance to my country or my motives for being in political life. And if you spend $5-million, and it would be a curious and interesting exercise to find out what they actually spent ... you know, we replied with the resources we had.

I was aware from the minute I entered politics that I had to control the narrative of my life. I did my best to do that. There's no question that I failed. But the idea that I sat there not trying to reply is not right. I tried to reply with the resources I had personally and with the resources that the party had, and I'll always regret that my inability to control that narrative had an impact on the fortunes of other people.

Is what you see as the primary reason for the party doing so badly is that it was a referendum on Michael Ignatieff?
I don't think it was a referendum on Michael Ignatieff. I've said this already, if you look back at who made the case against Stephen Harper, it was the Liberal opposition who made the case on the F-35 [jet fighter], it was the Liberal opposition who made the case on the G8-G20 waste, it was the Liberal opposition who made the case on the democracy issues. I think we opened up the breach in a way against Harper and against what he stands for, and someone else surged through and benefited, and at that point maybe the attack ads had an impact on my capacity to capitalize on a longing for change. There was a longing for change that I think we played an honourable part in creating, but we couldn't benefit because someone else surged through. Good luck to him. And then what happened, of course, is, as the NDP surged through, the blue tide began to rise in counterbalance and we got squeezed in between.

I'm conscious, I'm always conscious, that a leader has to take responsibility. And I take responsibility fully for anything we failed to do. But I think it was a pretty complicated story and I don't actually think this election was a referendum on me.

Political scientist Tom Flanagan's theory, of which I'm sure you're aware, is that neither the Conservatives nor the New Democrats are going to stray too far from a centrist position because they'll lose if they do. So, given that, he argues, what's the need for a centrist party like the Liberals?
I've said for five years that the historical function of the Liberal Party was to define where the centre was. The issue now is where will the centre go. I think the centre will move to the right. Flanagan is saying, “Oh, don't worry, the centre will stay the same.” I've also said that Mr. Harper will pretend to govern from the centre and move the country to the right, and Jack Layton will pretend to oppose from the centre and try to move the country to the left. And the country will have to decide after four years of this where the centre is.

But my concern is that the centre will move to the right. The centre is defined by political action. The centre moves. And it depends on who controls that centre. And Mr. Harper and Mr. Layton, their battle, will define that centre point. And I think it will be very important for the Liberal Party to be in the middle saying, “We know where the centre is. We don't have to pretend to be in the centre. We've always been in the centre and we know where it is.” So we'll see how that plays out.

Your feeling is that it's the political party that more defines the centre rather than the voters?
Well, that may appear to be an arrogant assumption, and I don't want to be arrogant. But I think two things are true. I think this country is moderate, pragmatic and deeply egalitarian. So please don't have me saying that without the Liberal Party, all is lost. Please don't do that. That's not what I think. I think that out there the public that I got to know and respect is moderate, pragmatic and egalitarian. And centrist in its basic instincts, non-ideological.

But that character is influenced by the party that help define discourse. And the Liberal Party has played a useful role in reinforcing or contributing to the moderation, pragmatism, egalitarianism and anti-ideological character of the country, and that's why the Liberal Party matters. In other words, it's a double relationship between the party and the people.

My Canada has always revolved around that idea of equality of opportunity and when I look at some of the deepest-rooted causes of stagnation in the United States, it is a radically less equal society, and we've got to watch out that we don't follow the same way.

Well, we are.
And if you followed the message of the front page of the platform, I said let's put equality back at the centre of Canadian life ...

I don't have the sense that that was the conversation you had with Canadians during the election campaign.
Well the message may not have got through, but it was in every speech for 36 days.

What was the filter?
The filter was the horse-race question.

How can we do politics if you can't get those messages through?
Get a better messenger. I mean, really. I may not have been the right messenger because everybody looks at me and says Harvard ...

Is that the real issue here? You were just not the right messenger?
Well, you would have thought that someone associated with highly expensive and pretentious higher education would actually be the right messenger for a passionately egalitarian message about education, for a passionately egalitarian vision of the country. Whatever else is wrong about me, I'm not a snob about this stuff.

One quibble: the attack ads worked not because they were inherently dishonest and not because they were well crafted but, rather, because Canadians, by and large, still mistrust the Liberal Party of Canada and we are ready to believe the worst about it and its leader. We believe the Liberals would do anything to regain power, including bringing in a “star' carpetbagger to mesmerize us all.

Is this the last we will hear from Michael Ignatieff? I hope not. Go to the first page of this thread, read the excerpts from the Marc 05 speech that excited so many people – including people here. That Michael Ignatieff had, and I suspect still has important things to say to Canadians about Canada and our future. Perhaps he will speak to us again, after he has shaken off the Liberal party of Toronto handlers.
 
Here, reproduced under the Fair Dealing provisions (§29) of the Copyright Act from the Globe and Mail is another, rather less fawning, view of Michael Ignatieff's departure:

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/politics/second-reading/douglas-bell/iggy-we-hardly-knew-ye/article2013920/
Iggy, we hardly knew ye

DOUGLAS BELL

Globe and Mail Update
Posted on Saturday, May 7, 2011

Goodness but there’s been a lot of hand wringing over the departure of Michael Ignatieff from Canadian politics. Most of it is filed under W for “we weren’t nearly good enough for him.” The most egregious of these is Andrew Potter in Maclean’s. In a piece titled “No country for good men” he quotes, approvingly, a letter he received pointing out what rubes we are for not falling at the great man’s feet.

It’s pretty weird: Here’s Ignatieff, whose life has been devoted to precisely the challenges and “foreign policy” nuances that are front and centre in everything that’s happening of any consequence in the world today, in the so-called Muslim world. If he weren’t running for the prime minister’s job in Canada, he’d be one of the few go-to guys in the English speaking world on Egypt, Syria, Libya, Afghanistan, the latest Hamas-Fatah deal. . . . and here we are in the middle of a Canadian federal election, with all these issues that make Ignatieff look totally world-class and massively relevant, and which make the Tories look stupid but make the NDP look infinitely worse, and we’re not supposed to notice that any of it is even happening. Like it’s an election for the Orillia school board.

What twaddle. In which solar system are federal election campaigns carried on like seminars at the Woodrow School of International Affairs? Not in this one that’s for sure. Lester “Mike” Pearson, who won the peace prize and was a brainiac of the first order, won his seat in Parliament and became prime minister because he connected with the folks in his riding and by extension in the rest of the country. In this last election Michael Ignatieff did neither. In 2008 I sat in a hall in Philadelphia and watched Hillary Clinton imply that Americans couldn’t trust Barack Obama because he was an effete snob who wanted to take away their guns and who, by the way, may or may not be a Muslim. Now as I remember Obama didn’t spend the next three months carping about character assassination he turned a hard eye at Hillary and pounded her back to the stone age (does anyone remember “Hillary, you’re nice enough”).

I interviewed Ignatieff during the 2008 campaign and here’s what he had to say on the subject of rough campaign tactics:

“There's a genuine dilemma there. Canadians don't like their politics becoming steadily more vicious and there's a price to pay - lower voter turnout, for instance. Some of this is self-correcting. But that said, we're up against a serious and unscrupulous enemy and I don't mean” – here Ignatieff waves his hands as a sort of mock Little Lord Fauntleroy – “ 'aren't they being mean.' I'm saying they're lying. They ran an ad for two weeks saying we're going to hike the GST. That's a lie. And I'm not saying that politics shouldn't be rough. Canadians respect that it's a contact sport. I've thrown a punch and I'll throw a punch again. But I try not to lie.”

That guy went MIA in this campaign and as a result he’s out of politics. Simple as that. In 1998 I studied with Ignatieff at the Banff Centre. He’s one of the two or three best teachers I’ve ever encountered. And if he’d gotten a little more pissed off he might have been a first class politician. But here’s the thing: He didn’t and as a result he’s gone back to something he knows he does well. Seems reasonable to me. So why’s everybody getting their knickers in a knot?

Indeed.
 
The Liberals and the MSM are in complete denial and will be for some time. They still can't accept that their messiah fumbled the ball and that the Canadian people had finally had enough.

Well, that may appear to be an arrogant assumption, and I don't want to be arrogant.

He really should have thought, and done something, about that a whole lot sooner. Like the first time he stood in front of a camera. As it was, he brought that attitude in spades to the Leader's english debate and it put him in the sewer.

Well, you would have thought that someone associated with highly expensive and pretentious higher education would actually be the right messenger for a passionately egalitarian message about education, for a passionately egalitarian vision of the country. Whatever else is wrong about me, I'm not a snob about this stuff.

Well, if the 'natural governing party' had the highly expensive and pretentious higher education they profess, they would know plain and simple that mainstrean, hard working pay check to pay check Canadians don't trust or like that type of person. And being a snob is exactly the way they think about them and the way Ignatieff came across to the common voter.


The whole unfortunate part is that while the rest of the country wants to move on into a new era of solid politics and renewal. The arrogant Liberals are looking to blame anyone but themselves for their demise. And the Liberal friendly MSM is only to happy to keep their laments, wailing and gnashing of teeth front and centre, because in fact, the MSM lost as much credibility during conflagration that consumed the 'natural governing party' and are totally emeshed with the fiasco. The Liberals are now seen as second rate and not to be trusted and so are the MSM. They now suffer the same disease as the people they shilled for.
 
A bit of 9/11 reflective whinging from Michael Ignatieff, reproduce under the Fair Dealing provisions (§29) of the Copyright Act from the Globe and Mail:

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/world/americas/september-11/michael-ignatieff-911-and-the-age-of-sovereign-failure/article2160153/singlepage/#articlecontent
Michael Ignatieff: 9/11 and the age of sovereign failure

MICHAEL IGNATIEFF
From Saturday's Globe and Mail

Published Friday, Sep. 09, 2011

One of the tasks we ask government to perform is to think the unthinkable.

Before 9/11, we may have allowed ourselves to be cynical about Western governments and their leaders, but we took it for granted that, faced with rising terrorist threats, they were not just hoping for the best but planning for the worst.

It turned out that nobody was.

The intelligence community saw warning lights flashing, but nobody took preventive action. Then airport security failed. Then the jets failed to scramble. Institutions that were supposed to protect us were asleep. In an instant, we discovered that no one was looking out for us.

The fire crews, the police and the emergency medical service teams who were called to the scene that September morning tried to make up for the failure of institutions with raw courage. The men and women in uniform who climbed upward into the fire displayed that virtue beyond measure or praise. But courage is no substitute for sovereigns that fail.

A sovereign is a state with a monopoly on the means of force. It is the object of ultimate allegiance and the source of law. It is there to protect, to defend and to secure. It is there to think the unthinkable and plan for it.

A sovereign failed that morning.

We have learned to live with that, to accept that there are “black swans” – events so unthinkable that no one can prepare for them. So we accept a new vulnerability. But there is no hiding the childlike disappointment inside us all. Our idea of the sovereign included a child's expectation that it would keep us safe. We have had to grow up.

In the decade since, we have seen nothing that would give us back even an adult's faith in institutions, let alone a child's. There has been a cascade of failure.

They said there were weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. There were none. They said they could build a new nation there. They couldn't. They said they could do the same in Afghanistan. They haven't.

It is always good to be skeptical about what governments tell us. But we are beyond skepticism now, into a deep and enduring cynicism. There will come a day when they are not crying wolf and we will not believe them. Then we will be in trouble. Some trust in government is a condition of democracy and security alike. That trust has been weakened and can't be rebuilt until sovereigns say what they mean, mean what they say and do what they promise.

When Hurricane Katrina bowled into the Gulf of Mexico in 2005, the U.S. Army and government engineers told the people of New Orleans the levees would hold. They failed. The mayor told the people help was on the way. Bodies lay decomposing in the water for a week. The president told the people they would rebuild. The rebuilding is still not done.

This was sovereign failure. It broke the contract of trust between government and people (and it is no accident that those whose trust was most fundamentally betrayed were poor and black).

Katrina was a second betrayal of expectation, just four years after the first. And a third was on its way.

The economic crisis of 2008 was a failure of markets, but also a failure of sovereign government. At the height of the financial exuberance, when the warning lights began to flash, government regulators told the American people there was no mortgage bubble.

Then they said the damage from the toxic financial instruments was contained. Then they said a bank failure was unthinkable. Then Lehman Brothers went down. The authorities told us it was another black swan.

Politicians and prosecutors promised there would be consequences. There have been no consequences. No one went to jail, except the most egregious fraudsters, and none of the regulators were held accountable. This was sovereign failure compounded, because no one carried the can.

This failure, unlike the first two, was not confined to America. It was a general failure of regulation in most Western states. Some governments – Canada, for example – did not fail in their sovereign duties. The Conservatives had preached their fair share of free-market nonsense in opposition, but, on banking regulation at least, hewed to a liberal consensus when in power. Other governments let ideology, combined with carelessness, get the better of them.

The fourth sovereign failure was environmental. When the wellhead burst in the Gulf of Mexico in 2010, the company told Americans that the spill was under control. It wasn't. The regulators said they had done the inspections. They hadn't. They had colluded with the industry they were supposed to be regulating. They signed off on the bad welds. They took the industry's word. Then they said the damage from the spilling oil wasn't too bad. It was bad enough.

Here was a failure to regulate, to protect and to prevent – basic responsibilities of any government. Is there any real reason to believe government will do a better job, from here on, regulating Arctic and offshore drilling?

This summer, politicians in Washington came within an ace of defaulting on the national debt – on a responsibility so fundamental to the role of a government that it is inscribed in the U.S. Constitution as the 14th Amendment. America (and therefore the world) came within a day or two of a fifth sovereign failure.

The word “sovereign” is now paired with “debt” in the global lexicon. Sovereign default now hangs over the world's economy like a spectre. And sovereigns now understand, almost too late, that if they don't hang together, they will hang separately.

When you line these failures up in a row, one following the other, it is no surprise that people have lost faith in government everywhere, but especially in the United States. Yet what the story should tell us is how important sovereigns actually are.

While there are a lot of things a government might do, there are a few things that only a government can do: protect the people, rescue them when they are in danger, regulate against catastrophic risk and safeguard the full faith and credit of their currency.

Sovereigns matter. And rebuilding their legitimacy, their capacity and their competence is the political task that matters most.

Competent doesn't mean bigger. It may even mean smaller, nimbler, more digital, less bureaucratic and more responsive in the face of the ceaseless ingenuity of greed. But whatever form sovereign government takes in the future, it has to mean government that prepares for the worst and regulates to protect the public from greed, violence and environmental ruin.

Rebuilding sovereign competence and capacity is also the key to restoring confidence in the global economy. Investors and the general public need to know someone is policing markets, keeping toxic products out of the global economic system and protecting the savings of the vulnerable.

Sovereign government means national government. For all the loose talk about global governance and the waning of the nation-state, only national governments have the democratic support and therefore the legitimacy to make regulations stick, punish wrongdoers and create the consensus for sacrifice where sacrifice is needed.

Organizations such as the International Monetary Fund, the European Union and the World Bank have a job to do, co-ordinating the work of sovereigns, but they can't do it unless sovereigns do theirs.

And yet a lot of people seem to be drawing another lesson entirely. Since we've survived it all, since the world hasn't come to an end, they ask, who needs government at all? Who needs a competent, capable sovereign? Who cares about a sovereign default?

Thus you have a serious candidate for the presidency of the United States telling voters that his objective is to make Washington “irrelevant” in the lives of Americans. He is saying what a lot of Americans want to hear.
This is the politics you get when a country has lived through a decade of sovereign failure (and two decades of ideological fantasy before that).

Instead of learning, as catastrophe sometimes teaches, that we are all in this together, many of us (and Americans in particular) seem to have learned that we are each on our own.

The response of governments has become part of the problem. Environmental regulation is sacrificed on the altar of jobs. Government watchdogs are put down in obedience to the ideology of deregulation. As government weakens in these dimensions, it becomes more coercive in others.

To turn back terror, our institutions have become more ruthless and more vigilant, yet we do not trust them more. A secret war on terror is waged, without foreseeable end, in our name, beyond our ken and beyond our control.

America defends its democracy now with drone strikes and targeted assassinations, with computerized surveillance of the incoming and outgoing chatter on phones and servers. Governments now pay thousands of secret operators to detect warning signals amid the noise.

But a decade into this secret war, no one really knows what price democracy pays, in freedom and self-respect, for the way it defends itself now.

If terror challenges democracy, the answer is more democracy, not less; more accountability and openness, not less. The question is whether the secret power we have allowed to spring up in our name is under any kind of democratic control. Do our elected representatives keep our secret agencies under sufficient scrutiny? Does the press know what is being done in our name?

We have paid for sovereign failure with secret government. Most people accept this, because our enemies have not prevailed. The mastermind is dead, his remains scattered at sea. His followers are in hiding and know they will be pursued to the ends of the earth.

But they created the apocalyptic standard, and the risk now is not just al-Qaeda but any group with the desire and capacity to emulate it.

The price of freedom is vigilance, but we also know that eternal vigilance is impossible. Some day, somehow, someone will get through. Sovereigns will do their best, but, against someone in search of apocalyptic martyrdom, all bets are off.

We can live with this knowledge, because we prefer it to the innocence that blinded us a decade ago. We cannot live without faith in others, so we draw inspiration from the courage shown by rescuers and survivors. But we cannot take consolation from the decade we have lived since.

In fact, though, we are not in need of consolation. We are in need of good politics, of democratic systems that are more than reality-TV shows driven by attack ads, and of democratic debate that allows the people to talk about what actually matters and then to elect politicians who will do what must be done.

We are not short of good ideas about what to do. We are not short of dedicated public servants. Most people, apart from those in the grip of ideological fantasy, know that we need competent sovereigns.

But truth be told, a decade later, sovereigns are failing us still. And until they stop failing us, we will not be safe, and our prosperity will not be secure.

Michael Ignatieff is a Senior Resident at Massey College, University of Toronto.


Ignatieff is, as usual, partly – but only partly – right: the sovereign state has failed. He is also right when he says: ”While there are a lot of things a government might do, there are a few things that only a government can do: protect the people, rescue them when they are in danger, regulate against catastrophic risk and safeguard the full faith and credit of their currency.

Sovereigns matter. And rebuilding their legitimacy, their capacity and their competence is the political task that matters most.

Competent doesn't mean bigger. It may even mean smaller, nimbler, more digital, less bureaucratic and more responsive in the face of the ceaseless ingenuity of greed.”


Where he goes wrong is to try to draw some distinction between liberal and conservative – no matter how one defines those terms. Some of the worst failures of sovereign states have come in some of the most liberal and most conservative states.

It is time for all* Canadians, even Michael Ignatieff, to end our war against George W. Bush. He's gone; history will not, I think judge him kindly but nor will it declare him to be some sort of stumbling monster with a small brain and a huge club. But that's what Ignatieff is, now, all about: George W Bush and the USA failed, Stephen Harper is a Bush acolyte ... it's a different tune than the one he sang in 2001.


__________
* Well, maybe not all: the Good Grey Globe's Lawrence Martin and Jeffrey Simpson are, probably, genetically unable to stop hating Bush – same as they are genetically unable to stop worshipping Trudeau and praying for his second coming.
 
E.R. Campbell said:
.....

Ignatieff is, as usual, partly – but only partly – right: the sovereign state has failed. He is also right when he says: ”While there are a lot of things a government might do, there are a few things that only a government can do: protect the people, rescue them when they are in danger, regulate against catastrophic risk and safeguard the full faith and credit of their currency.

.....



I don't accept his government taskings without qualification.

It is not true that ONLY a government can protect the people.  People can and should protect themselves.  They organize to protect themselves against larger, more complex threats.  Government is simply a higher level of organization.  Governments protect against other Governments and Anarchy.

It is not true that ONLY a government can rescued them when in danger.  Again that task starts with the individual and, like defense becomes more and more collective as the danger and risk evolve.

It IS true that ONLY a government can safeguard the full faith and credit of their currency because the currency is the expression of its society and its value is reflective of the manner in which the rest of the world perceives that society. That is true whether the currency is the Canadian Dollar, the Linen Bank of Scotland Pound (they used to issue their own notes), a Visa Card or even the Euro. Question: Which of those four currencies is accepted everywhere?

As to regulating against risk - I should rather my Government proceeds cautiously on that front and permit risk but prepare to absorb the effects of failure.




 
Kirkhill said:
I don't accept his government taskings without qualification.

It is not true that ONLY a government can protect the people.  People can and should protect themselves.  They organize to protect themselves against larger, more complex threats.  Government is simply a higher level of organization.  Governments protect against other Governments and Anarchy.

It is not true that ONLY a government can rescued them when in danger.  Again that task starts with the individual and, like defense becomes more and more collective as the danger and risk evolve.

It IS true that ONLY a government can safeguard the full faith and credit of their currency because the currency is the expression of its society and its value is reflective of the manner in which the rest of the world perceives that society. That is true whether the currency is the Canadian Dollar, the Linen Bank of Scotland Pound (they used to issue their own notes), a Visa Card or even the Euro. Question: Which of those four currencies is accepted everywhere?

As to regulating against risk - I should rather my Government proceeds cautiously on that front and permit risk but prepare to absorb the effects of failure.


You first three preconditions are fully agreed.

It seems to me that the government's role regarding risk is to put in place and enforce regulations that promote honesty and protect the individual from larger collectives - be those 'collectives' corporations, organizations or governments, themselves. But, in the end, he who takes the risk must be prepared to pay for it - I do not ask or expect the government to bail me out when I take more risk than I can afford, nor should anyone else.
 
E.R. Campbell said:
You first three preconditions are fully agreed.

It seems to me that the government's role regarding risk is to put in place and enforce regulations that promote honesty and protect the individual from larger collectives - be those 'collectives' corporations, organizations or governments, themselves. But, in the end, he who takes the risk must be prepared to pay for it - I do not ask or expect the government to bail me out when I take more risk than I can afford, nor should anyone else.

Fair comment. 

I don't expect the Government to save me from my own stupidity.  But, I do expect them to hold me safe from the idiocy of others, especially when it is Government mandated idiocy. And also to hold me safe, to such extent possible, from larger forces in exactly the same manner as an insurance company to which I pay premiums rather than taxes.
 
I consider Ignatieff's musings to be at least partly full of sh!t.

Bit sh!t happens; no surprise.  But my opinion of people whose political leanings are coloured by the idea that government can protect us from all the bad things that can happen is that they are fools (as in prone to foolishness).  It is important to have an actual short list of priorities, instead of bleating lip service to everything as a "priority".  Don't waste resources (time, money) trying to regulate and manage every ill out of existence, so that resources are available for the big crises.  (The height of this foolishness is expressed as "if it saves even one life, it's worth it".)

Services and responders function most effectively when they are locally-focused and decentralized.  The likely emergency scenarios of BC are different than those of Newfoundland, as are those of Kamloops and Victoria.  Higher levels of government are sometimes needed to co-ordinate activities in large areas of operation and provide high-cost niche capabilities, but mostly to serve as a public insurer: to pay the bills for public emergencies, so that the costs of events which befall the unfortunate are distributed among the fortunate.  The human cost of centralizing and federalizing is to render people impotent (unable or unmotivated) in the face of crisis, which is the real lesson of Katrina.

And it is just the height of stupidity to believe that the answer to the unintended consequences of some legislative dirigisme is more dirigisme, as if it were ever possible for a relative handful of humans organized as a public bureaucracy (with all the attendant rules which tend to empower people to say "No" rather than "Yes") to manage vast chaotic systems.
 
An interesting post mortem on Mr Ignatieff:

http://fullcomment.nationalpost.com/2011/09/16/the-michael-ignatieff-exp

Jordan Michael Smith: The rise and fall of Michael Ignatieff

Chris Mikula/Postmedia News
Poor Iggy killed the Liberal party. At least he'll always have Harvard.
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National Post  Sep 16, 2011 – 9:30 AM ET | Last Updated: Sep 16, 2011 9:31 AM ET

By Jordan Michael Smith

When Michael Ignatieff resigned as Liberal leader on May 3, members of his team were seen at the back of the room in tears. They were grieving not just for their party but even more for the death of a dream, the sad end of a six-year experiment that they had once believed would conclude with Ignatieff pulling the sword of political governance out of the stone of political theory and coming to power in Canada as a contemporary philosopher-king.

The dream could be said to have been born in the autumn of 2005, when Ignatieff told Joseph Nye Jr., then the dean of Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government, that he was leaving to run for a seat in Parliament. The journalist-historian had proved a spectacular choice to head Harvard’s new Carr Center for Human Rights Policy, but Ignatieff had also proved controversial. In high-profile essays and books, he had become a premier theorist of progressive imperialism. By the time of his resignation, this doctrine, which envisioned American military power being used around the world to invade and rebuild states that committed gross human rights abuses, seemed largely discredited in the eyes of the American public. Instead of American empire being “in a place like Iraq, the last hope for democracy and stability alike,” as Ignatieff had written, the United States had initiated a war that had taken hundreds of thousands of Iraqi and American lives and seemed to have no end.
Ignatieff was not deterred by the waning popularity of his ideas. High-level scholars frequently enter government, of course, in policy or advisory roles; but it seemed to some of his colleagues at Cambridge an eccentric maneuver on the part of Ignatieff, one of the world’s most prominent thinkers, to relinquish one of the most prestigious spots at one of the most eminent American universities to run for high office in a country where he had not lived for nearly 30 years. Those, like Nye, who were close to Ignatieff knew he was a man of huge ambitions. He wasn’t returning to Canada to become just another ordinary, ribbon-cutting politician. He intended to become leader of the Liberals, and, ultimately, to become prime minister of one of the richest and most important countries in the world.

Ignatieff was quite consciously conducting an experiment to determine the possibilities for intellectuals in politics. The questions he wanted to answer went back to Plato and Aristotle: Should philosophers become kings? Will the mob accept or reject the wisdom of the intellectual? Or, in more modern terms: When does high-mindedness become elitism? How much must a thinker debase his ideas and ideals to gain the affections of the electorate?

By the time he arrived at Harvard in 2000, Ignatieff was already well known. With his telegenic looks, natural eloquence, and erudition, Ignatieff swiftly gained prominence as a documentarian and journalist, as well as a scholar, in England, where he published The Russian Album, a prize-winning account of his aristocratic family’s life in Russia and their subsequent exile. He was especially well known for his books and essays from and about Yugoslavia, where more than 130,000 people died in the 1990s while Western countries delayed intervening, a lacerating experience for Ignatieff.

He was above all an acute political observer and theorist who became particularly concerned with the reluctance of rich, secure states to use force to save lives. His experiences in the Balkans convinced him that American military power was crucial to advance the cause of international human rights. He became one of the most outspoken advocates of liberal interventionism, which was acquiring the new designation of “responsibility to protect.” His became one of the United States’ most prominent public intellectuals, writing a series of sophisticated essays supporting the war in Iraq for The New York Times Magazine. Ignatieff saw Iraq as a sort of petri dish where the United States could perfect the techniques that would later allow it to implement a cohesive interventionist doctrine across the globe.

The essays he wrote during the early days of the War on Terror are notable, not just for their full-throated backing of action in Iraq, but for their insights into Ignatieff’s distinctive tendency to make sweeping statements filled with broad ideas that paid little attention to local concerns or particulars. “If America takes on Iraq, it takes on the reordering of the whole region,” he wrote. In the introduction to his 2003 book, Empire Lite, he wrote, “The central paradox, true of Japan and Germany in 1945, and true today, is that imperialism has become a precondition for democracy.”

Despite his considerable personal assets, Ignatieff had a steep learning curve as a politician. Though he was leading the 2006 Liberal leadership race right up to the party convention, he was ultimately out-maneuvered by Stephane Dion, nobody’s idea of a consummate tactician. Ignatieff also found himself in trouble for his remarks on a conflict that erupted in Israel, after first declaring he was “not losing sleep” over Lebanese casualties and then abruptly declaring Israel guilty of “war crimes.” He apologized for both comments and was decidedly mum on the conflict ever after. “I’ve spent my life as a writer, but you have no idea of the effect of words until you become a politician,” he told The New Yorker with a sense of wonder. “One word or participle in the wrong place and you can spend weeks apologizing and explaining.”

At the same time that the navel-gazing was taking place, however, Ignatieff was becoming a consequential MP. He was one of the few Liberals in 2006 to join the Conservative government in voting to extend Canada’s mission in Afghanistan, and made supporting the war the centerpiece of his leadership campaign that year. The Liberals had originally opposed Canadian troop deployment in the country beyond 2007. But the Conservative government wanted to stay, and accused the Liberals of being soft on the war. Given Ignatieff’s record of humanitarian concern, abandoning the Afghans to the Taliban was especially problematic. It fell to him to broker a compromise — he devised a new Liberal policy of extending the mission until 2009. The Conservatives agreed. After replacing Dion as Liberal leader in 2009, Ignatieff bridged the divisions between parties, making Canadian foreign policy bipartisan.

More personally, he had achieved the intellectual’s ultimate dream: Bringing ideas — in this case, interventionist ideas — into being in the real world of politics. Ignatieff’s vision offered a harsh either/or choice to Canadians, who in the last few decades have gravitated toward the semi-neutralism of conflict resolution through international agencies rather than following the United States.

Despite his successes, he never managed to overcome his pedigree. “I’m not in a Hamlet-like state of indecision,” he said before announcing his successful 2008 leadership run, an allusion guaranteed to pass over the heads of the vast majority of the voters. Using Hamlet to dispute the notion that he was a pretentious intellectual was very intellectual, and very much unlike the reflex of a more natural politician such as Ronald Reagan, who cited Rambo, Reader’s Digest, and Back to the Future in making sure he was not speaking over the heads of Americans.

After Ignatieff became Liberal leader, the intellect and eloquence that had catapulted him to this pinnacle would also produce his political undoing. The nakedness of his ambition, the sheer audaciousness and presumption involved, was off-putting to Canadians. In addition, stringent campaign finance laws resulted in major advantages for the Conservatives: The Tories, maintaining a superior grassroots funding initiative, were able to tap into vast reserves of cash unavailable to Ignatieff and company. The result was an endless barrage of unanswered ads targeting Ignatieff personally as a carpetbagger.

In addition, Ignatieff was unfortunate in having Prime Minister Stephen Harper as his chief rival. As good a political animal as the Conservatives have had in half a century, Harper proved himself at every step a shrewder strategist than Ignatieff. Harper could always claim, for instance, to be the most hawkish party leader on Afghanistan; for while Ignatieff was able to stretch his party’s position on the war, it was not possible for him to be more right-wing than the Conservatives. When the global financial crisis erupted in 2008, Harper successfully suggested Ignatieff’s proposed tax increases would hamper economic recovery. And when Canada rebounded from the recession, much more swiftly than America did, Harper took credit. Similarly, Ignatieff proved surprisingly incapable of outclassing Harper during the election campaign’s televised debates.

Ignatieff suffered avoidable self-inflicted wounds as well. In prematurely announcing his intention to force an election in September of 2009, he lost a large section of the election-weary Canadian electorate. His book True Patriot Love, released the same year, was a ham-handed attempt to establish his Canadian bona fides. “Loving a country is an act of imagination,” he wrote in the book — a line that caused one reviewer to quip: “I’m not even sure what it means, but you wouldn’t write that if you were really secretly a Harvard professor at heart. Right?”

Ignatieff never overcame the impression he was in the country only insofar as he could profit from it. He suffered from the fact intellectuals do insincerity much more clumsily than “natural” politicians. After making a major push to fight climate change in his leadership run, for instance, he quickly jettisoned the idea in favour of a toothless but more popular Liberal plan devoid of specific targets. “You’ve got to work with the grain of Canadians and not against them,” he declared weakly.

And then came the disastrous election of May 2011. So precipitous was the Liberal fall that they found themselves in third place behind the New Democrats, a party whose strength had been previously contained within unions and the universities. Ignatieff had dared to envision the restructuring of Canadian politics. And indeed, he helped make it happen. But what occurred was far different from what he had imagined.

This is a tale with many morals. But one clear takeaway from Michael Ignatieff’s attempt to storm the citadel of power is that makeovers, particularly by intellectuals trying to transform themselves into politicians, have limits. Once Ignatieff established himself as a cosmopolitan free thinker and intellectual entrepreneur, it was difficult for him ever to posture as an ordinary Canadian pol. Most intellectuals looking to enter politics presumably would not hamstring themselves by living outside their native country for nearly three decades and then return only to aim so soon for the top job.

Having raised such monumental expectations — he was repeatedly compared to Pierre Trudeau, the gold standard of liberalism, upon his arrival in Canadian politics — Ignatieff disappointed many in his rapid rise and fall. Instead of a has-been, Ignatieff will be portrayed by some as a never-was. But such a verdict would be at best a partial and unfair judgment. Ignatieff has a first-rate intellect and a second-rate temperament — the reverse of the famous judgment on FDR — and he’ll always have Harvard.

Jordan Michael Smith is a Canadian writer living in Washington, DC. He has written for the New York Times, the Boston Globe, and Newsweek. This article was first published in World Affairs Journal. See  a full version here.
 
A rather sad and, I'm sorry to say, sophomoric "New Year's Message" from distinguished public intellectual and failed political leader Michel Ignatieff, reproduced under the Fair Dealing provisions of the Copyright Act from the Globe and Mail:

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/politics/michael-ignatieff-theres-no-way-out-but-a-new-politics-of-fairness/article2287995/singlepage/#articlecontent
Michael Ignatieff: There's no way out but a new politics of fairness

MICHAEL IGNATIEFF

From Saturday's Globe and Mail
Last updated Sunday, Jan. 01, 2012

It has taken three years of this recession for me to appreciate something my father, a Russian immigrant who came of age in the Depression, once told me about hard times. When I asked him what it was like in the Dirty Thirties, he said that if you had a job it was okay: In fact, it was like being in the heated parlour car in the front of the train, while the unemployed were in the unheated freight cars at the back.

The same is true today. Three years into our great Depression, the cardinal political fact of hard times is: We are not all in this together.

When the fallen (and unlamented) Italian prime minister Silvio Berlusconi was asked how serious the economic crisis was, he replied, “What crisis?” The restaurants in Milan were full. Similarly in North America, restaurants in our cities are doing a brisk trade. For people with jobs – not just the 1 per cent – the guilty pleasures of recession include rising house prices, cheap money and good meals.

The recession is highly selective: a nightmare for some, no more than distant thunder for many. Unionized workers in the public sector are better protected than non-unionized workers in the private sector. Native-born workers are less likely to be fired than recently arrived immigrants. The skilled fare better than the unskilled, the educated better than the uneducated, and aboriginals worst of all.

The same holds true across the world. In Europe, Germans are better off than Greeks – northern countries are better off than southern ones. Common action to save the euro took so long because resentmenttowards their feckless southern partners blinded the Germans to their own interests. Or ask Brazilians: Crisis? What crisis? They’ve never had it so good.

Ask Canadians, too. Our unemployment rate is 2 per cent lower than south of the border and our banks are not about to fail. The struggles of high-tech champions such as Research in Motion are masked, for most, by the surging resource rents from commodities markets. The full burden falls on relatively few regions and few shoulders – aboriginals, young people without post-secondary education, older workers in declining resource sectors and recent immigrants.

Yet in the end no one escapes the great fear.

Even those with secure jobs understand that this is an epochal restructuring of the global economy, the first downturn in which the developing world is gaining power, wealth and jobs at the expense of the developed. In the emerging division of labour with Asia, jobs will not come back for millions of middle-class Westerners who grew up working in manufacturing and services. The jobs of the future will be in health and elder care, and in high-skill areas requiring either advanced computer literacy or doctorates. No one, especially workers in their 50s, can feel secure.

The political response is fragmented. In the United States, the Republicans defend tax cuts designed to render the new inequality permanent, while the Democrats want to hike taxes on the rich to save public services. Each party’s approach is less a solution than an attempt to entrench the privileges of the groups that support them.

The age is crying out for a different kind of politics, one that rallies people around the idea of fighting the great fear together. President Obama’s Osawatomie speech earlier this month – in which he denounced inequality and called for restoring middle-class security – can be the start for that new politics, but its success will come down to persuading the majority who are holding on that their future depends on doing something for those who are slipping back.

Recessions at first divide, but as they persist and deepen, even the rich discover that their own prosperity will be threatened. The Germans thought they could cut the Greeks and Italians loose: They’ve learned that the weak can bring down the strong. Societies torn apart by resentment, fear and anger are not much better for the rich than they are for the poor. The message the young people in Occupy Wall Street want us to hear is that societies that cannot face a crisis together are sick. Societies that cannot fix their injustices will eventually break down.

A company president who takes home a good salary plus bonuses tied to performance while providing employment to workers and dividends to investors ought not to be a problematic figure for anyone. The company president whose compensation package does not include any penalties for failure, and whose profit seeking exposes his employees to bankruptcy, his investors to loss and the economy to shock waves is another matter entirely.

Government regulators must be there to protect people from predatory profit-taking that puts the rest of us at risk. Regulating corporate governance will do more than reform the boardrooms. It will rebuild a good society’s most important asset – the sense that our system is fair.

Many of the worst excesses of the age of greed occurred in markets that were anything but free, anything but transparent. Government must be there to clean up markets riven by fraud, corruption, insider trading and toxic products that made risk systemic. Competition demands that governments are prepared to use their anti-trust, anti-monopoly functions to dismantle institutions that have become “too big to fail.”

We should tax the rich, not to punish them for their success or use them as a cash cow to fund social programs, but so that they pay for a fair portion of the public goods that account for so much of their private wealth – and so that we can reduce taxation on those who can least afford it. Fairness also means a simpler tax system with fewer exemptions. This would help remedy one of the cardinal reasons our society feels unfair – that some get all the breaks.

A politics of fairness is also a politics of growth. Fair societies are more dynamic and more innovative. In fair societies, people don’t think the game is rigged before it begins. Success goes by what you know, not who you know. And people don’t waste emotions and energy on resentment and anger. They are too busy thinking up the next big thing.

Nobody can say we are fair now. Anyone in the parlour car knows the freight cars behind are packed with cold and angry people. Realizing that we are actually on the same train would be a start.

Michael Ignatieff is a Senior Resident at Massey College, University of Toronto.


I say "sad" and "sophomoric" because there's nothing here but a few commonplace observations and some fluff where one would expect prescriptions from an intellectual. His points about corporate CEO remuneration are fine ... but hardly original and our key public servants like Mark Carney and Julie Dickson are making sure our system is "fair" and competitive.

Mark-Carney1.jpg
   
Julie_Dickson.jpg

Mark Carney                                        Julie Dickson
Governor                                            Superintendent
Bank of Canada                                  Office of the Superintendent of Financial Institutions


We already tax the rich - probably adequately but, like our US confreres, we have a too complex tax system which appears unfair because the loopholes appear to benefit the rich rather than enrich society at large.

I expected better of Ignatieff ... I'm disappointed at this fluff, better he goes back to Harvard where it passes for insight. He clearly still doesn't understand the country he aspired to lead.
 
Michael Ignatieff's reflections upon (or whinges about) his brief career in politics are reported in this article which is reproduced under the Fair Dealing provisions of the Copyright Act from the National Post:

http://news.nationalpost.com/2012/03/14/michael-ignatieff-admits-mistakes-and-airs-grievances-he-and-harper-both-denied-standing-during-election/
Michael Ignatieff admits mistakes and airs grievances: He and Harper both ‘denied standing’ during election

Joseph Brean

Mar 14, 2012

In a speech lamenting the vicious tone of the attack ads used against him, former Liberal leader Michael Ignatieff on Tuesday told a law school audience that his party did the same thing to Stephen Harper, unfairly tarring him as a dangerously right-wing, American-style political extremist, bent on undoing cherished Canadian values.

“We attempted to deny him standing, and now he has taken his revenge. That is where we are,” Mr. Ignatieff said at York University’s Osgoode Hall. Mr. Harper “seized the centre and moved it 10 degrees to the right and now we have to seize it back.”

In one of his first public events since quitting politics to return to academia, Mr. Ignatieff focused on the notion of standing, which in law means the right to be heard in a given matter, and in politics means one’s acceptance by the electorate as a valid candidate for power — one of us, as opposed to one of them.

He meant that a politician can be elected with no education, no charisma, no qualifications and no honesty, but no one can be elected without standing. It is a gift from voters, he said, to be treated as one of them, and in this he compared his own experience to that of Barack Obama, “a sitting President forced into the indignity of releasing his birth certificate” by people who denied his standing, or his right to occupy the office.

“We’ve blurred opponent with enemy,” Mr. Ignatieff said. “Belonging matters more than confidence, expertise or trustworthiness.”

He himself was “successfully denied standing” in Canadian politics by a Conservative smear campaign about his alleged foreignness and self-interest, he said, to the point that he could not turn on the television “without seeing my own damn face.”

“I fought the election in a kind of echo chamber in which the only sound I could hear was the sound of my own voice,” he said.

To a packed house of law students, he came across not so much as a sore loser but an intellectual one, seeking a deeper meaning in the drubbing handed to him by Canadian voters last May, in which he even lost his own seat.

He called for a ban on party advertising outside electoral campaigns. “I would, wouldn’t I?” he quipped, and did not dwell on it.

There were moments when he sounded like an unpopular teenager complaining about how phony the cool kids are, and others when he expressed haughty amazement that a man of his accomplishments could be denied standing in Canada.

But, generally, he seemed like a recovering politician who has not only learned some hard back-room truths, but also how to express them in catchy metaphors and folksy maxims. In the span of half an hour, he compared politics to conjuring, boxing, stand-up comedy, fighting in alleys and dragging stones across a desert.

There is no referee in politics, he said, certainly not the press, who are there for the fight and want a good one.

“There are three rules. Never complain, never explain and get your retaliation in first,” he said. “You can’t land a punch until you learn to take one.”

“You can’t let words speak for themselves, you have to perform them,” he said. “You learn to use political speech like a dog whistle, making high-pitched noises that only certain keen ears can hear.”

Much of what he said was striking because it could never have been said on the campaign trail, not just because it is true, but because it is deeply cynical. He still speaks like an educated idealist, but having spent so long in gutter politics, he is inevitably dirtier, having been forced to become a “strange imitation of yourself.”

The difference is in language. In academia, he said, people finish your sentences and accept that what you say might not be exactly what you meant, and they permit clarification. In politics, he said, language ceases to be expressive and becomes strategic, and if you find yourself saying “What I meant was…” then you have already lost.

Once notoriously dry and verbose in his speech, if not his writing, Mr. Ignatieff famously became a better and more natural public speaker during the course of a national bus tour, keeping his lines short and his answers direct.

The transformation showed him that the basic transaction in politics is linguistic, and that politics is a “sub-verbal form of impulse buying,” with strategies like those used to sell soap.

“Politics is a game with words. I played it a little and it isn’t Scrabble. It’s more like war, with words as weapons,” he said. “The outcome turns on a linguistic mystery, the weird things that words do to the human heart.”

He said it has made him — a Booker-nominated author — wary of words, which he compared to grenades, because if you do not throw them far enough away, they blow your legs off.

This is why eloquent people can fail at politics, he said, just as “inarticulate schemers” can win, and there is nothing natural about the skill of a natural politician.

“The skill of a natural politician is like a physical grace perfected through years of training, and it is stored like muscle memory in the tissue,” he said.

National Post
jbrean@nationalpost.com


There are some good points here: his explanation of "standing" is interesting, although I dislike the word ~ I'm not sure what the better one is; and I think he is correct about Harper wanting to have “seized the centre and moved it 10 degrees to the right ..." ~ but he errs in suggesting that Harper has done that, it's Harper's aim but he has not, yet, accomplished it. But most of the rest is self serving fluff ~ Ignatieff can and should do better. He should admit that politics is about alternatives and as unattractive as Stephen Harper may be he, Harper, made himself and his party and his programme more attractive than Ignatieff and the Liberal Party and the Liberal programme. Plus, of course, Jack layton ate Igantieff's lunch.
 
E.R. Campbell said:
... self serving fluff
  :nod:

"...he came across not so much as a sore loser but an intellectual one."
Seriously? I suspect that I have a different definition of "intellectual," given what Brean wrote here.
 
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