To the extent this commentary goes back to a topic briefly mentioned last week (the political dumptruck masquerading as the Canadian House of Commons) let me say I’m generally not prone to repetition. But in this case the issue is of surpassing concern and in my view warrants further analysis.
No doubt the following observations will be regarded by some politicians and journalists alike as the mutterings of an aging and quarrelsome essayist who’s been too long in the journalism business, is therefore out of touch with the contemporary scene, and more than likely to preface every utterance with “Now, back in my day……..”
Well, fine. I’m good with that because in my opinion Canadian politics has been reduced to an unprecedented and wretched gutterpipe of hysteria, opportunism, accusation, innuendo and frequent intimidation. It’s all in pursuit of the TV “gotcha” moment, and embraces in almost every instance matters which don’t exactly address the political and economic well being of Canada.
That said, we proceed to federal natural resources minister Lisa Raitt. She’s been heavily compromised by her musings, “inadvertently” tape recorded by a communications aide barely out of her teens, about the lingering shortage of medical isotopes in Canada. By definition, isotopes are radioactive and they’re critical to cancer treatment.
Radioactive isotopes and cancer. The two combined, in Ms. Raitt’s estimation, made for a “sexy” issue which would be hers to resolve, with ensuing political credit – and presumably promotion.
The tape revealed without doubt that Ms. Raitt is a calculating schemer, riven with ambition. But she nearly got away with it because the media hacks on parliament hill, including a large contingent who should know better, airily dismissed her comments as hardly beyond the usual, and actually politicians say much more odious things all the time, especially in the back rooms, and y’know truth to tell isotopes and cancer are a “sexy” issue and what a nation of ninnies we are to be worried about a minor little transgression such as this. So there.
So there, indeed. For the better part of a week, barely a word was written, hardly a comment made, about the central issue in all of this, which is the grave challenge now confronting Canadian hospitals because of that isotope crisis. In some cases, cancer diagnosis and treatment will have to be postponed, but the only thing, the sole issue occupying members of parliament – and the press gallery – was whether Ms. Raitt should be forced to resign. Should be fired by Prime Minister Harper.
In my view she ought to have resigned of her own volition and on the spot, if only because ministerial responsibility should not attend anyone so blatantly callow and unthinking. Careless, too, inasmuch as Ms. Raitt was busily assessing her political future on the backs of cancer victims while in a car, in Victoria, in company with the aforementioned communications miss and a driver. Chauffeurs have also been known in times past to be indiscreet, which is to say ministers of the crown who burble on should be wary of who might be listening in.
As it happened, it was the communications child who left the “inadvertent” recording lying around in a parliament hill washroom. But the point remains: what was it they said in World War Two? Loose lips sink ships, and sometimes cabinet ministers as well.
At any rate, it wasn’t until public revulsion emerged full force, primarily from cancer patients and their families, that Ms. Raitt finally fell on her sword. She didn’t quit, of course, but did offer a blubbering apology invoking the memories of her father and brother, both of whom died of cancer.
The minister’s emotional trauma, however, seems to have limited scope, confined to the doorsill at home, because in the political vortex Ms. Raitt found radioactive isotopes and cancer to be that “sexy” issue. One assumes her father and brother would disagree.
Now here’s the core of it. When the House of Commons finally got around to storming and bleating about the isotope supply, Ms. Raitt reacted in the usual, pointless manner: she moved to the attack and blamed the Liberals. “They hid the crisis.”
The veteran Liberal spear carrier from Regina, Ralph Goodale, attempted to respond but in the resultant chaos – the Speaker demanding order and getting none – you couldn’t hear a word Goodale said. Not a word.
That’s your House of Commons these days. It’s a cacophony of brats and bozos whose concept of political accomplishment is to yell and bellow and froth and fume and fulminate – all to no discernable purpose.
We’re badly served by this crowd, and equally by most of the parliament hill media types who are nourished every day by confrontational rubbish, and are persuaded that’s how politics works. Because, after all, that’s how it’s always been.
I’m here to tell you otherwise. “Back in my day….” the Commons was often tense, brittle, occasionally loud, sometimes hostile, but always overlain with a measure of respect and even collegiality.
That’s all gone now and with it any semblance of coherent political dialogue in this country. The question might then be can this, will this ever change? The answer is no, and therein lies the great tragedy of the roaring dullards.
Father’s Day is almost here! Did you get Dad a gift yet! Well if he’s a photo nut he’s sure to love this.
