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Noble Ambition

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Paul Martin’s former chief of staff comes out swinging: It’s the economy, stupid, and my boss knew it.

by Tim Murphy

Published in the December/January 2007 issue.  » BUY ISSUE     

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Such an approach is sure to gain favour with provincial premiers, some of whom will trumpet a new era of cooperation, until they realize what municipal governments have realized: that the downloading of responsibilities requires local governments to embrace the politically unpalatable need to tax more heavily. Nonetheless, Harper’s message and strategy represent a potent mix, and unless the federal Liberals match it, he will be re-elected and may even receive his much-coveted majority government. At that point, all bets are off.

At a time when Canada has never been so involved in international affairs — and necessarily so — Harper’s vision of a hollowed-out federal core, if realized, will prevent us from meaningful engagement in the years to come. Understanding the challenge posed by his devolution-of-powers agenda and the threat of market fundamentalism to come requires Liberals to step back in time and analyze why Paul Martin was central to the party’s victories in four straight elections and how federalism remained intact.

One was a political novice bursting with energy and new ideas; the other was a canny veteran representing the Liberal status quo. It was the 1990 Liberal leadership race, and the differences between Paul Martin and Jean Chrétien were clear. Chrétien Liberalism was rooted in central Canada, in a centralized federalism, in wealth redistribution, and, for the sake of national unity and winning support in vote-rich Ontario, in being tough on Quebec. It was a narrative known to one and all, and there was comfort and security in it.

Paul Martin had a different vision, a different idea of Canada. Looking beyond national borders and debates, he saw enormous change. The Cold War had ended, Western democracies appeared ascendant, and globalization was becoming a fact of life. Given Canada’s relatively small internal market and its export-driven economy, protectionism was not an option. At the same time, economic diversification was essential. Getting the fiscal house in order would make Canada less beholden to the fluctuating demands of foreign economies and make possible further spending on social programs.

Martin believed that to be a player on the emerging global map, Canadian federalism had to be flexible enough to allow provinces to pursue national goals in their own way — it needed a nationalism without walls. The West had to be encouraged to grow, and economic policy would have to focus on wealth creation as well as redistribution. Key concerns had to be Canada’s growing deficits, crippling accumulated debt, and skyrocketing interest rates. Brian Mulroney’s economic record had left a gaping hole that required urgent attention.

Nonetheless, Liberals chose old style over new ambition. In retrospect, Martin never had a chance. Despite a rapidly changing world, there is always in the Canadian body politic an incipient conservatism: embrace the world, maybe, but cleave strongly to “Canadian values,” to the security of our social safety net, to our differences with the United States. Mulroney and the Progressive Conservative Party had tied Canada to the American colossus through free trade, but they had also overstepped: Mulroney had offended Canadians’ deeply felt sense of distinctiveness by being too cozy with Ronald Reagan. It was time, said federal Liberals, for an economic nationalist and social progressive; it was time for Jean Chrétien, the most able candidate in the Trudeau tradition.

It wasn’t Jean Chrétien who turned me into a Martin supporter — Chrétien was clearly a talented politician. It was the grip that Pierre Elliott Trudeau had on the Liberal Party and the consequent lack of focus on the economy. Then, and perhaps still. It is not that the current front-runners to lead the party don’t have economic platforms worth considering — they do. It is that, from the beginning, the economy and the position that a strong economy allows a country to play in the world, has not been central to their campaigns. Indeed, the focus has been on the personal and professional backgrounds of the candidates — who is best suited to debate Harper and ultimately to defeat him. On the policy front, the emphasis has been on foreign affairs and even constitutional reform, even though to win an election, economic stewardship is paramount. The Liberals contesting the leadership represent an impressive array of talent, but for a long while it seemed as if they were grasping for euphoric Trudeau moments, rather than listening to the quiet industry of Paul Martin. Happily, this began to change after the delegate-selection meetings, when the prize became positioning for the leadership convention. On December 3, 2006, may the candidate with the most detailed and forward-looking economic plan emerge as Liberal leader.

The Liberals were an effective opposition between 1990 and 1993, and their culminating gamble paid off. In the 1993 election, just after the writ was dropped, the Liberals issued their “Red Book,” a full account of the policies they would pursue and how they would govern. Antipathy to Mulroney had grown, the electorate was tired of constitutional battles, and the Liberals won 177 seats. The Tories, under a beleaguered Kim Campbell, were reduced to two seats. They had been crushed — the old alliance of Quebec nationalists, fiscal conservatives from Ontario, and social conservatives from the West had splintered. The principal authors of the “Red Book” were Chaviva Hosek, the director of the Liberal caucus research bureau, and Paul Martin.

Ever the shrewd tactician, Chrétien rewarded Martin by installing him as finance minister. So long as he was the keeper of the country’s books and continued reducing the deficit, Bay and Howe Streets remained content and the right had little leverage. Chrétien was free to do what he did well: retail politics. Martin wanted the top job, to be sure, but if he had to bide his time to get another shot at the title, then so be it.

It was, in fact, mostly a good marriage and not the private hell for Martin that media watchers who ache for political theatre insisted was the everpresent reality. Through the late 1990s job growth soared, the deficit disappeared, and Martin’s reputation as an economic manager became fixed in the country’s mind. There was work to do — balance the budget, see that education and research and development were properly funded, and pursue his internationalist vision by regularly meeting with the world’s other finance ministers. Martin was building profile.

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