The Commons: ’The problem is not with me’

The leader of the opposition was on one of the TV chat shows this evening and, in between mixing his metaphors (bridges to cross, balls in various courts and so forth), he offered a not-inconsiderable assessment of our present situation.

“I think Canadians are saying this right across the board… let’s raise our game,” he said. “Let’s ask real questions in the House of Commons and seek real answers. Let us see whether there’s times when we can cooperate. Let’s do our job as opposition, which is hold these guys’ feet to the fire.”

A week old, it must be said, this new era of real questions is already proving dreadfully boring. Take, for instance, Mr. Ignatieff’s efforts this afternoon.

“The U.S. legislation was not written overnight,” he observed first of some unfriendliness to the south. “How did the government get caught off guard? What is it doing right now to ensure that Canadians do not lose further jobs to the rising tide of American protectionism?”

When this, understandably, failed to elicit much of a response, Mr. Ignatieff restated his query more clearly.

“What action,” he wondered, “is the government taking now, both with the administration and with congress, to secure Canadian exemption from these protectionist measures?”

Straightforward, fair, not a hint of invective nor defamation. Whatever his fancy foreign schooling, Mr. Ignatieff could learn much from the government’s subsequent response.

“Mr. Speaker,” Stockwell Day sighed, “for somebody who has lived his last 30 years in the United States, we would think he would be familiar with the fact that we actually do not get involved in drafting legislation in the United States.”

Patronizing, irrelevant and unnecessarily personal. Whatever his actual grasp of foreign policy, Mr. Day has well earned his spot on the frontbench of life. 

Hours later, the House having passed his amendment to the Conservative budget, Ignatieff emerged from the opposition lobby to address the next most-contentious issue of the day—an obscure algorithm for negotiating monetary transfers between the federal and provincial governments that not five people within 15km of Parliament Hill could possibly ever explain to you. Four Liberals from Newfoundland, where children are taught from a very young age how calculate their own equalization allowances, have noisily expressing their dissatisfaction with the government’s latest actions in this regard, threatening even to vote of their volition with no regard to the desire of their leader. 

Into the foyer, Mr. Ignatieff stepped to the microphone and, before permitting a question, explained his dissatisfaction with the government’s conduct. Suitably distressed, he said he had placed a call this evening to the Prime Minister, registered his complaint and appealed for concession.

Rookie move, that. Indeed, the Prime Minister had found Mr. Ignatieff’s case unpersuasive.

“He said no,” the Liberal leader dutifully reported.

What, the reporters wondered, would this mean for Mr. Ignatieff’s promised support for the budget? Would he revoke it here and now, leaving the Governor General to decide between another election or an unprecedented coalition government, and delaying again by months any official response to our reportedly dire economic circumstance? Could he possibly do otherwise?

“Our support for the budget is not in question,” Ignatieff said, so calm as to seem oblivious to his naivete.

What then of the Newfoundland Four? Surely their freewill could not—should not—be tolerated. No doubt some punishment is in order. Banishment from caucus, perhaps. A suspension of some kind. An afternoon spent listening to Ken Dryden lecture on the importance of brevity in modern political discourse at the very least.

Mr. Ignatieff demurred. Tonight, he said, he was having his friends from Newfoundland over to Stornoway for dinner. “I’ll let you know tomorrow,” he said when reporters persisted. “I’d rather discuss that over a nice glass of wine with my colleagues.”

Shortly thereafter he took his leave, though not without a final pronouncement. “The problem,” he insisted, “is not with me. The problem is not with my caucus. The problem is with how Mr. Harper manages this federation.”

Well then.

We shall see how long this lasts, this business of real questions and real answers and “raising our game.” No doubt, if Mr. Ignatieff continues to insist on conducting himself like a reasonable adult, he will find few in this place are easily duped into playing along.