A rchive Date
[ 25-06-2000 ]
Category
[ International Relations ]
sub-Categoy
[ Canada ]
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[The ghosts of Meech continue to haunt us
Anyone looking at the Alliance platform would be struck by the parallels with the failed accord
By LINDA WILLIAMSON
Toronto Sun
June 25, 2000
After the CCRAP fiasco (what's in a name?), surely the second-dumbest move by the fledgling Canadian Alliance was to stage its first-ever leadership vote on June 24, the same day as Quebec's "fete nationale," St. Jean Baptiste Day.
Not that, as party pragmatists would no doubt argue, this gigantic cultural oversight technically affected the logistics of the vote. The fact is, because the party had no official riding associations in la belle province - despite its sudden and curiously burgeoning membership there of late - all votes were supposed to be cast by phone.
Still, the scheduling was a symbolic slap in the face to Quebec's traditions, and if we've learned anything at all since Meech Lake, it's that symbolism counts.
Maclean's magazine reminded us of the significant anniversary marked this weekend - the 10-year anniversary of the Meech accord's demise, and of Jean Chretien's election as Liberal leader (over Paul Martin), on the same day, June 23, 1990. From that day forward, Maclean's argued, Canada has never been the same.
It's true. The ghosts of Meech haunt us still - and I don't just mean here at the Sun, where the sound of interim CEO Brian Mulroney's Guccis has been heard to echo in the hallways. The Gaspe fiasco in the Alliance leadership race is a case in point.
Ten years ago, most of the country was outraged at the suggestion, an integral part of the Meech accord, that Quebec should be declared a distinct society.
Yet today, the suggestion that Tom Long might have sold thousands of Alliance memberships in Quebec, especially in areas like the Saguenay, St. Maurice and Gaspe, is considered laughable. (Even Preston Manning laughed lightly when questioned about it last week by the Sun's editorial board.
As it turns out, of course, Long admitted the numbers were inflated. But I digress.) The subtext is, Quebec couldn't possibly be that receptive to the Alliance. After all, it's ... a distinct society! It's not like the rest of Canada!
Personally, I found the Gaspe membership story delicious, and not just because, as my Edmonton Sun colleague Mike Jenkinson so cleverly put it, "it makes you gasp, eh?" I lived and worked in Gaspe, in the city and region of the same name, for the summer in 1981, thanks to the largesse of the federal government. And frankly, Long's admissions aside, it's not inconceivable that people there, including a sizable working-class, anglophone (bilingual) population, would be receptive to Alliance ideas, particularly on taxes and law and order.
As well, anyone who has taken the time to look beyond the Alliance's bizarre leadership selection process to its platform would be struck by the parallels with Meech. Remember, Manning's Reform party, the Alliance's feisty parent, first sprang up as a western protest against Meech and the backroom dealmaking by a bunch of easterners it represented.
"(Mulroney) promised constitutional changes to Quebec," Manning recalled last week. "He assumed that these would be supported by people in the rest of the country." That assumption of course proved wrong, he says, and disillusioned federal Tories like Lucien Bouchard went off to form the Bloc Quebecois. (Reform, for its part, proceeded to shoot itself in the foot in 1997 with its infamous "anti-Quebec-politicians" ad, which Manning still defends, saying it merely meant "all Canadians want to have a say in national unity, not just Quebec politicians.")
Today's Alliance, however, proposes a devolution of federal powers to the provinces that - as Sun and Journal de Montreal columnist Michel Auger recently noted - should hit home with Quebecers. It would allow all provinces greater control over programs under their jurisdiction and greater freedom to innovate (something our health and education systems could only benefit from).
Call it "reformed federalism" as opposed to "special status" for Quebec and presto, the stench of Meech is removed. Suddenly, Quebecers and Albertans, among others, may find they have a lot in common after all.
Then there's the ever-contentious language question. Must a prime minister of an officially bilingual country be bilingual?
An array of pundits - from our own Peter Worthington to the Windsor Star to a political scientist at Laval university - have opined that bilingual leaders are actually more important to Ontarians than Quebecers. An interesting theory, suggesting as it does that we Ontarians are just too sensitive to Quebec for our own good. But I think it's simpler than that.
Like Auger, I think being able to speak the language of one-third of the population is more than window dressing, it's a simple matter of respect. Just as aspiring national politicians should know their political science and their Constitution, they should also have a working knowledge of English and French (Chretien, who seemingly has neither, notwithstanding). It's not that hard, and it's not too much to ask.
But if the current political landscape tells us anything, it's that, 10 years after Meech, those old divisions (east vs. west, French vs. English) are no longer so clear-cut. Canada and Canadians are more complex. The Alliance race has forced fascinating new debates - fiscal vs. social conservatism, tax cuts vs. social spending, Ontario vs. Alberta - and challenging new questions about how we define ourselves.
Proof positive there was life after Meech. Who'd a thunk it?
Linda Williamson is the Toronto Sun senior associate editor. She can be reached by e-mail at lwilliam@sunpub.com
 World Fact Book (CIA)]
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