Sunday, October 31, 2004
A Story of Us, Them, a Loaf and the Crumbs
We’re not Americans. We’re just not like them, they tell me. The “they” are almost always my fellow Canadians. They usually add that it isn’t very productive to try to explain something, say a concept or identity, in negative terms, giving examples of things that demonstrate what isn’t rather than is. From there, they invariably go on to let me know, in a conversation that can last hours, just why we are unlike the people to the immediate South.
Sometimes, though not as often these days, I hear that we are similar to some groups. It used to be that a favourable comparison with Australia might crop up. The resemblances were and are striking, they’d say. The list could include: historical ties with Great Britain; parliamentary government; lingering relations with the British monarchy; one country being founded on crime and the other having an existing social welfare system unable to claim relevance without rampant lawlessness; agriculture; resource based economies; small populations spread over vast territories with the majorities concentrated in large cities; and even unique flora and fauna, if one recalls that the Queen Charlotte Islands species found in British Columbia are as distinct as those of the Galapagos. With all this, and even more in common, the peoples and cultures just have to be fundamentally alike. Well, here I’m not so sure.
Long before becoming a mainstream Hollywood trademark and international icon, actor Mel Gibson worked in Australia, making Gallipoli in 1981. That film, perhaps the most important made Down Under, examines the Australian role in one of the seminal campaigns of the First World War. What that picture did was to chronicle Australian support for the British Empire, and that specific showdown in the Ottoman territories. It examined how the British relied not just on Australian resources, but the human effort. The Aussie troops, during the course of the movie, were transformed from young men coming from the colonial outposts they called home into raw resources needed by a war machine. The film made clear, and in very eloquent fashion, that while the Australians were loyal, brave, and lived up to their commitments, above expectations, they came to feel that all was not quite right with their country’s defining major relationship in the world. It was during conflict that Australians either came to learn or came to vocalize that all was not right with their colonial identity. There was, in other words, something inherent in the great military campaign that was not entirely glorious, in fact something which more than degraded the value of Australian nationhood, statehood, self-awareness. That this feeling was not confined to either a few elites or marginalized segments of the public is manifested in the very fact that Gallipoli got made.
Well, all that’s fine, they may say. Canadians have had problems with imperialism, too. All was not right. Back in the 1920s and 1930s leaders attempted to find a greater voice for Ottawa at imperial gatherings. It wasn’t until much later that former Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau ‘patriated’ our Constitution. So what’s the point?
It seems to me that the central issue is the wider public reaction to participation in the affairs of the outside world, feelings and sentiments buttressed by popular culture. The Australians, plain and simple, have come to either the conclusion or realization that being passive in the face of accepting a supporting role in foreign affairs may be counterproductive, or, perhaps, not in the national interest. Therein may be where any notion of a profound similarity between our two nations disintegrates. While Canadians have distinguished themselves in numerous conflicts, among them the two World Wars, that sense of resentment has not piqued the masses, perhaps not been felt, at least across English Canada. When history is mentioned, the story is of the laudable accomplishments, with figures, insofar as they have become part of the lore, lionized, and insusceptible to any form of doubt that might impact national identity. Billy Bishop, perhaps Canada’s most famous warrior, and renowned First World War flying ace, may represent, whenever his biography is rendered, the outstanding example of how sacrosanct notions of service to Empire remain.
What this means is, and this is certainly an oversimplification, though not a proposition without merit, that the tradition Canada has of participation in world affairs, and the glorification of that involvement, is confined to uncovering that supporting role. Do Canadian leaders venture into the world, believing they seek to mould international opinion? They do, I suppose, though being aggressive in the search for that supportive niche may not constitute any ability to shape global realities. Take Prime Minister Paul Martin’s recent trip abroad, where he once again advocated broadening out the G7/G8 to include a much wider representation, the idea of a G20. Among the states that need to be brought into the fold are those of Latin America, chiefly Brazil, and so argues Martin. Yet I suppose this is pressing for what already may be a fait accompli, and arguably as useful as backing recognition that night follow day. But the real question is: does Brazil even need Ottawa-based advocacy, and if so how? According to a recent piece filed by reporter Andrew Hay [see Reuters, 19 October 2004], Brazil is proving adept at handling and presenting its own case: “Brazil hopes to achieve its aspirations through the geopolitical back door by, for example, leading a peacekeeping mission to Haiti, proposing a global war on hunger at the United Nations and trying to maintain regional political stability…[There are dreams of] greater global influence that will strengthen Brazil's hand in trade disputes, boost the self esteem of Brazilians and ultimately help its economy to grow… Brazil hopes such power will be manifested in it gaining a permanent seat on the U.N. Security Council and invitations to join clubs for powerful nations such as the Group of Eight.”
What all of this suggests is that in Canada foreign affairs are dealt with only insofar as paying attention to such details allows for the freeing up of resources and effort to dwell on what may be the defining aspect of our national identity: brokering internal differences that threaten the fabric of the Confederation. There remains much in the world that impacts Canada: a recent submarine tragedy stemming from the purchase of equipment from the United Kingdom cost a sailor his life; some British sources claim now their government may have known about the subs’ serious defects some eleven years ago; and, some reports are now hinting that Ottawa caved to pressure from Washington, bought the vessels, and agreed to do so because they were needed in training exercises.
With much going on, the focus in Ottawa seems to have clearly shifted to the domestic. The press is concentrating coverage on news of Paul Martin’s plans for asserting control over his Liberals. While he may have gained the upper hand over his legislative caucus, there are questions about a leadership review and his standing in the Party. Days ago one report revealed that “An experiment in Liberal party democracy that degenerated into vicious internal battles has now been cancelled, Prime Minister Paul Martin told his troops Wednesday. Martin did an about-face Wednesday and told his caucus he was ending the policy of allowing newcomers to challenge incumbent MPs for their ridings…Martin's nomination experiment led to divisive and unseemly feuds marked by threats of libel lawsuits, accusations of ballot-stuffing, and party stalwarts being turfed or simply quitting politics” [quoted in “Martin shuts down nomination battles to avoid repeat of bitter Liberal fights,” by Alexander Panetta, CP, 27 October 2004]. Meanwhile, news has surfaced that Quebec Premier Jean Charest will in just a few weeks participate in meetings with world leaders and heads of state, events that may cause some to charge that the lowly premier is in fact taking it upon himself to act as a representative of a country. Yet in the Canada of October 2004 it is not Charest who is the anti-federalist. The separatist du jour may just turn out to be Danny Williams, Premier of Newfoundland and Labrador, who recently bowed out of a First Ministers meeting in Ottawa over a dispute with the Federal government and its claim of royalty revenues from that province’s offshore oil resources. Williams told a St. John’s press conference: “We are not prepared to have Ottawa keep the loaf and give us the crumbs” [cited in “Newfoundland Premier Invokes Historic Grievance Amid Fight with Ottawa,” Canadian Press, 27 October 2004].
Stan Markotich
Submit comments to stanmarkotich@yahoo.com
¶ 1:01 PM
We’re not Americans. We’re just not like them, they tell me. The “they” are almost always my fellow Canadians. They usually add that it isn’t very productive to try to explain something, say a concept or identity, in negative terms, giving examples of things that demonstrate what isn’t rather than is. From there, they invariably go on to let me know, in a conversation that can last hours, just why we are unlike the people to the immediate South.
Sometimes, though not as often these days, I hear that we are similar to some groups. It used to be that a favourable comparison with Australia might crop up. The resemblances were and are striking, they’d say. The list could include: historical ties with Great Britain; parliamentary government; lingering relations with the British monarchy; one country being founded on crime and the other having an existing social welfare system unable to claim relevance without rampant lawlessness; agriculture; resource based economies; small populations spread over vast territories with the majorities concentrated in large cities; and even unique flora and fauna, if one recalls that the Queen Charlotte Islands species found in British Columbia are as distinct as those of the Galapagos. With all this, and even more in common, the peoples and cultures just have to be fundamentally alike. Well, here I’m not so sure.
Long before becoming a mainstream Hollywood trademark and international icon, actor Mel Gibson worked in Australia, making Gallipoli in 1981. That film, perhaps the most important made Down Under, examines the Australian role in one of the seminal campaigns of the First World War. What that picture did was to chronicle Australian support for the British Empire, and that specific showdown in the Ottoman territories. It examined how the British relied not just on Australian resources, but the human effort. The Aussie troops, during the course of the movie, were transformed from young men coming from the colonial outposts they called home into raw resources needed by a war machine. The film made clear, and in very eloquent fashion, that while the Australians were loyal, brave, and lived up to their commitments, above expectations, they came to feel that all was not quite right with their country’s defining major relationship in the world. It was during conflict that Australians either came to learn or came to vocalize that all was not right with their colonial identity. There was, in other words, something inherent in the great military campaign that was not entirely glorious, in fact something which more than degraded the value of Australian nationhood, statehood, self-awareness. That this feeling was not confined to either a few elites or marginalized segments of the public is manifested in the very fact that Gallipoli got made.
Well, all that’s fine, they may say. Canadians have had problems with imperialism, too. All was not right. Back in the 1920s and 1930s leaders attempted to find a greater voice for Ottawa at imperial gatherings. It wasn’t until much later that former Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau ‘patriated’ our Constitution. So what’s the point?
It seems to me that the central issue is the wider public reaction to participation in the affairs of the outside world, feelings and sentiments buttressed by popular culture. The Australians, plain and simple, have come to either the conclusion or realization that being passive in the face of accepting a supporting role in foreign affairs may be counterproductive, or, perhaps, not in the national interest. Therein may be where any notion of a profound similarity between our two nations disintegrates. While Canadians have distinguished themselves in numerous conflicts, among them the two World Wars, that sense of resentment has not piqued the masses, perhaps not been felt, at least across English Canada. When history is mentioned, the story is of the laudable accomplishments, with figures, insofar as they have become part of the lore, lionized, and insusceptible to any form of doubt that might impact national identity. Billy Bishop, perhaps Canada’s most famous warrior, and renowned First World War flying ace, may represent, whenever his biography is rendered, the outstanding example of how sacrosanct notions of service to Empire remain.
What this means is, and this is certainly an oversimplification, though not a proposition without merit, that the tradition Canada has of participation in world affairs, and the glorification of that involvement, is confined to uncovering that supporting role. Do Canadian leaders venture into the world, believing they seek to mould international opinion? They do, I suppose, though being aggressive in the search for that supportive niche may not constitute any ability to shape global realities. Take Prime Minister Paul Martin’s recent trip abroad, where he once again advocated broadening out the G7/G8 to include a much wider representation, the idea of a G20. Among the states that need to be brought into the fold are those of Latin America, chiefly Brazil, and so argues Martin. Yet I suppose this is pressing for what already may be a fait accompli, and arguably as useful as backing recognition that night follow day. But the real question is: does Brazil even need Ottawa-based advocacy, and if so how? According to a recent piece filed by reporter Andrew Hay [see Reuters, 19 October 2004], Brazil is proving adept at handling and presenting its own case: “Brazil hopes to achieve its aspirations through the geopolitical back door by, for example, leading a peacekeeping mission to Haiti, proposing a global war on hunger at the United Nations and trying to maintain regional political stability…[There are dreams of] greater global influence that will strengthen Brazil's hand in trade disputes, boost the self esteem of Brazilians and ultimately help its economy to grow… Brazil hopes such power will be manifested in it gaining a permanent seat on the U.N. Security Council and invitations to join clubs for powerful nations such as the Group of Eight.”
What all of this suggests is that in Canada foreign affairs are dealt with only insofar as paying attention to such details allows for the freeing up of resources and effort to dwell on what may be the defining aspect of our national identity: brokering internal differences that threaten the fabric of the Confederation. There remains much in the world that impacts Canada: a recent submarine tragedy stemming from the purchase of equipment from the United Kingdom cost a sailor his life; some British sources claim now their government may have known about the subs’ serious defects some eleven years ago; and, some reports are now hinting that Ottawa caved to pressure from Washington, bought the vessels, and agreed to do so because they were needed in training exercises.
With much going on, the focus in Ottawa seems to have clearly shifted to the domestic. The press is concentrating coverage on news of Paul Martin’s plans for asserting control over his Liberals. While he may have gained the upper hand over his legislative caucus, there are questions about a leadership review and his standing in the Party. Days ago one report revealed that “An experiment in Liberal party democracy that degenerated into vicious internal battles has now been cancelled, Prime Minister Paul Martin told his troops Wednesday. Martin did an about-face Wednesday and told his caucus he was ending the policy of allowing newcomers to challenge incumbent MPs for their ridings…Martin's nomination experiment led to divisive and unseemly feuds marked by threats of libel lawsuits, accusations of ballot-stuffing, and party stalwarts being turfed or simply quitting politics” [quoted in “Martin shuts down nomination battles to avoid repeat of bitter Liberal fights,” by Alexander Panetta, CP, 27 October 2004]. Meanwhile, news has surfaced that Quebec Premier Jean Charest will in just a few weeks participate in meetings with world leaders and heads of state, events that may cause some to charge that the lowly premier is in fact taking it upon himself to act as a representative of a country. Yet in the Canada of October 2004 it is not Charest who is the anti-federalist. The separatist du jour may just turn out to be Danny Williams, Premier of Newfoundland and Labrador, who recently bowed out of a First Ministers meeting in Ottawa over a dispute with the Federal government and its claim of royalty revenues from that province’s offshore oil resources. Williams told a St. John’s press conference: “We are not prepared to have Ottawa keep the loaf and give us the crumbs” [cited in “Newfoundland Premier Invokes Historic Grievance Amid Fight with Ottawa,” Canadian Press, 27 October 2004].
Stan Markotich
Submit comments to stanmarkotich@yahoo.com
¶ 1:01 PM
