Last week I stood with my wife and children looking down upon the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Ottawa.  ”What is this, Dad?” my twelve-year old son from Africa asked. I explained how just a few years ago the body of some forgotten man had been transported to that very spot in memory of all those unnamed we had lost during too many conflicts. “But who is he?” my son asked, still confused.

I must confess I’m not so sure anymore. I thought I did at one point. He might have died in Holland or Germany, Hong Kong or in the Atlantic, but he was the embodiment of sacrifice to me – a courageous soul, who despite his fear and isolation, carried the torch of Canada into some of the darkest places on earth and perished with it cradled in his hands. The old religions demanded that only the best animals be sacrificed and, ironically, we followed suit. The best and brightest of our young men and women we offered to a greater cause – to God, King or country. And we believed that noble offering would, in turn, bring us blessing and future peace. Indeed, such promise was the only way we could bear the pain of their loss.

As a nation, we marched ahead on the blood they shed. Indeed, this was the only way they could really bear what was ultimately their own death. Their belief in their families and their country propelled them in the most miserable of circumstances, and as they closed their eyes in death they could at least rest assured in the knowledge that the Canada they loved was a nation steeped in noble sacrifice, so much so that it would never forget their final effort. They sacrificed so that we might, I suppose in some strange way, comprehend that the purpose of their ultimate act was not that we would just remember, but that we would not stop.

Do we really believe that the Unknown Soldier, and the countless others like him, breathed their last proclaiming the glory of war? Hardly. By the time their end came they would have realized just what an awful thing they were enmeshed in. They had seen too much, endured too much, and lost too much to be idealistic about it anymore. In moments and months of increasing clarity, the thrill of just being there passed into sadness, and in its place came the thoughts of their parents, children, the farm outside Calgary, the harbour in Halifax, the tundra of the north, the silky wheat of the prairies, or the grandeur of the BC coast. The rest was just too much to figure out. The meaning of it all just wouldn’t make itself clear. And so their reasonings turned to the familiar and Canada emerged through the carnage.

This is the Unknown Soldier I thought I knew. We all thought we somewhat understood him. But what would he think of citizens who refused to vote, politicians who refused to cooperate and political parties that raced to the bottom line? What would he make of a country that left its farmers to go bankrupt in isolation, manufacturers who abandoned their workers for more lucrative fields abroad, seniors who were left without proper support, or a pristine land abandoned for a consumer’s dream?

I don’t know that soldier as well as I thought because, in truth, I have failed to carry his torch. I thank him for his sacrifice and wear my poppy proudly, but in reality I won’t go to a similar length to fight for lower carbon emissions, aboriginal justice, healthy food, a woman’s right to be truly equal or to free a child from hunger. I thank God for him but it’s just not in me, at least at present, to see Canada as he did. In life, I can’t replicate what he saw in death – a marvellous nation worth every energy expended for it.

I will stand at the Cenotaph tomorrow, not to remember, but to ask for forgiveness for fumbling the torch so mightily handed to me. And I will ask God to help me not to just remember, but to go on and fight for a land I see in my dreams, as the Unknown Soldier saw it in his. Maybe then, he will emerge through the haze of my own lack of sacrifice and be real to me once again.  I can only pray.

It was the week of chest thumping. The locker room bravado displayed following the vote that will likely lead to the end of the gun registry. Then Senator Mike Duffy’s public meltdown in his debate with NDP Peter Stoffer. These were just more slippery stones in the decline of effective democracy in Canada.

Things have subtly changed in the nation’s capital, in ways likely to spell a more uncertain future. It used to be said that the Conservatives, so long in opposition, continued to behave in similar fashion after assuming power. The Liberals continued to act in opposition as though they were government. This was all true; I’ve witnessed it and concur. But it’s now changing. While Liberals are forced to come to terms with assuming the duties of Her Majesty’s Loyal Opposition, the Harper Conservatives, comfortable in their lead in the polls, are acting more like a government, and in many serious ways, that’s not a good thing.

George Stevens, in a moment of introspection, stated: “I see myself capable of arrogance and brutality… That’s a fierce thing, to discover within yourself that which you despise the most in others.” This is what the Conservatives saw in their opponents, but now they have become Liberals redux. Nobody could escape that conclusion this past week. The party is becoming more comfortable with power – the days of the burlap-cloaked reformers from the West have given way to the limousines and tuxedos of privilege … and now arrogance. In a phrase: they have become what they most detested in Liberals.

The issue here isn’t Conservative or Liberal, but the corruption and arrogance that seems to inevitably come with power. For three years the Conservatives still felt they had to storm the ramparts of Ottawa; now they secure the fortress because they are inside. The problem is that they can’t recognize this in themselves. In becoming what they hated, they have lost the insight to hate what they are becoming. They have taken on the traits that Scottish philosopher David Hume warned against:

When men are most sure and arrogant, they are commonly mistaken, giving views to passion without the proper deliberation which alone can secure them from the grossest absurdities.”

We witnessed some of those absurdities last week; there’s more to come as the government, sensing weakness in the opposition, feels it’s about to launch into some remarkable open-field running. I sit in the House each day and I can feel it. Arrogance in opposition is one thing, in a government another. Of the two, the last is most to be feared.

I know a good number of Conservative friends. In private they are gracious, even humble. That’s great in private life, but in government it’s an absolute necessity, lest power move to the inevitable paths of privilege and flawed policy. Canada’s challenges at present demand a government that is humble and wise enough to work with opposition parties to secure the best outcome possible. Minority government makes this possible. Stephen Harper makes it impossible because his party views humility in the public place as a sign of weakness. What they might be in private as individual members they cannot replicate once the team straps on the pads. And before the inevitable comments come, stating that the Liberals were just as bad in power, I acknowledge it. There is no defence. But the problem isn’t the Liberals or the Conservatives; it’s power and its insipid ability to make the precarious balance of interests so required in a Canadian federation unstable.

Describing the decline into vanity of what was once a good friend, George Eliot wrote: “He was like a rooster who thought the sun had risen to hear him crow.” Alas, the rooster crows in Ottawa. Corruption has its way once again. It’s in times like this that citizens, recognizing this inevitable cycle of events, are meant to come forward and hold its office holders to account. That’s not happening and the sun continues to rise above the horizon any time the rooster summons it. Political delusion has begun.

In its own way, it was sickening. Upon arriving home from Ottawa late last night, the sadness of my wife’s face was evident. She told me of how Senator Mike Duffy had blustered his way through a CBC interview, opting to label NDP MP Peter Stoffer a fake and an actor. Subsequently watching the interview on the Internet, I was not only sad but embarrassed. I haven’t held out a lot of hope for civility in the House of Commons, but I never expected this.

The issue was concerning an NDP report pointing out that Stephen Harper has appointed more senators in one year than anyone else in Canadian history. It’s true; the facts are clear. It refers to the reality that the PM railed against the Senate even upon becoming leader of the nation and then proceeded to reward his cronies – true again. Something like this from the NDP isn’t new. The party and its leader have consistently held the view that the Senate is a huge waste of taxpayers’ expense and have even called for a public referendum on the matter, as has Conservative senator Hugh Segal. I don’t agree, but I acknowledge the NDP position has remained clear and unaltered.

Let me say something about Peter Stoffer. In the annual Maclean’s poll on MPs, Stoeffer repeatedly comes out on top as the most collegial of them all. He uses his influence to attempt to get MPs of all stripes to work together for various causes and events. Working in harmony with the Speaker of the House, each year he holds the “All Party Party” – a wildly popular evening in which MPs and their staffs all co-mingle and for a brief time put aside their party ideologies. It’s Stoffer that oversees the annual soccer game between MPs and the media. When I asked him to come to my riding in London and hold a rally for the troops, he readily agreed even though he was from another party. That’s the kind of MP he is. He’s a popular public servant and can often be found in the lobby sitting with members from other parties.

But he’s more than symbolic. I was especially irked when Duffy called Stoffer a faker, who pretends to support Canadian troops but votes against funding allocations for them. Let’s be clear. Peter Stoffer, as with Peter Mackay, is acknowledged in the House as being fully behind our men and women in uniform. Any MP, including Conservatives ones will tell you that. He was the one who led the charge in Parliament to protect soldiers medals that were otherwise being sold on eBay. The reason why he voted against the Conservative allocations on the military was because they offered embarrassing little support for the soldiers returned from active duty and who are having trouble moving on with their lives.

I’m not trying to be partisan here; I’m trying to be fair. Peter Stoffer gets elected each and every time by wide margins because he delivers for his constituents. Mike Duffy?  Well, he spent years as a CTV interviewer often mocking the Senate as a bunch of old men who do little with their time but who cost the taxpayer a bundle. Interestingly, he has now joined their ranks and his presence has destabilized a side of Parliament that has provided some of the most serious and dedicated reports and analysis on everything from the military to foreign aid. I know a number of Conservative senators and even have coffee with them occasionally. The discussions have all been about public policy and the need to get it right. When they heard Mike Duffy was about to join their ranks, they could only shake their heads. Their fears have now been confirmed.

Peter Stoffer said he would run for Parliament and did. He won, as he has done repeatedly. He acted on his convictions. Mike Duffy railed against the Senate as a place of unelected stooges while a media commentator but then took an unelected appointment to the place the moment it was offered. Of the two, I can guarantee you that Peter Stoffer is not a fake.

When the Auditor General comes calling, it’s best to pay attention.  Sheila Fraser’s investigations have historically struck fear into numerous agencies within government.  Her no-nonsense, direct approach has not only provided effective accountability within government, she has also put her conclusions in language that resonates well with the public.

This past week she unveiled her findings on the Canadian International Development Agency and, as seems a recurring theme these last few years, the Agency has come up short … again.

For Canadians themselves, Fraser delivers a report that concludes our tax dollars are not being used as effectively as they should be.  Despite 15 years of investment, six different strategic plans and five different ministers, the Agency is still stuck in the mire.  There have been so many shifts in CIDA priorities in just these last few years that it’s hard to imagine how aid dollars can be disbursed effectively when there’s always a moving target.  Money is wasted in such a setting, something the Auditor General hearkened to: “The nature of international development calls for stable, long-term programming and CIDA needs a comprehensive plan going forward.”  But such a plan would be the seventh in just the last few years.  Overall direction is good, but as CIDA’s recent failures have shown, such a plan can’t lead to ultimate success alone.

As strange as it may sound, the answer to the Agency’s legendary drift might well be political.  CIDA has no legislated mandate; its minister isn’t senior; and despite having a budget in the billions, it is merely the runt of the litter in Canada’s foreign policy establishment.  As the British and other European nations have shown, foreign aid can be effective when a government makes it a priority.  This is something that has been missing in both recent Liberal and Conservative governments.  Until some Canadian government opts to give international development its own enhanced role at the table of decision-making, CIDA will continue to be the modern embodiment of the “gang that couldn’t shoot straight.”

In fact, with so many shifts taking place in a relatively short period of time, the Auditor General wondered if CIDA is really capable of improving.  The Harper government especially seems to delight in tinkering on foreign aid when it should be providing stability.  When you have a previous Liberal government just a short time ago promising to double aid to Africa, then a Conservative government pulling its long-term development aid out of 8 African countries a short time later, you have a real problem.

Sheila Fraser is surely correct when she says the Agency requires more focus.  The lack of direction and the constant shuffling of priorities have left an Agency at sea and failing to deliver to the Canadian taxpayers the kind of efficiencies they would expect from a well-managed government department.

At a time of relentless political name-calling and a brutal form of partisanship, CIDA is the one sector of government that can fly below the partisan radar screen and speak to the greater values of Canadians.  But try as it might, CIDA has become so burdened down with bureaucracy and indecisiveness that it can’t get off the ground.  It knew Sheila Fraser was on her way, yet it couldn’t summon up the political will to get its house in order in order to prove its humanitarian worth.  As such, it has just been given another failing grade, only this time from a very high level.  Unless the political will is provided to bring the Agency out of the doldrums, Canadians will never get their money’s worth, and, worse yet, the one billion poorest people in the world will never effectively experience the humanitarian compassion Canada was once known for.

In a recent Policy Options magazine, Robin Sears writes in real terms concerning the partisan nature of politics and how it’s always characterized Canadian political life. People, including me, often hearken back to the Lester Pearson minority governments and how much was achieved through compromise. Sears says it was never quite that simple, but he does acknowledge, despite the heavily partisan debates between the various leaders at the time, friendliness and understanding between MPs was actually common.

Two generations ago, Canadians politicians not only respected each other as professionals in a shared discipline, they also often extended each other private support on shared projects … For every public collision between Diefenbaker and Pearson … there were a dozen private kindnesses behind the lobby curtains between members.”

I had that kind of day yesterday.  My wife and kids were up for one of their rare visits and came to the House.  CIDA minister Bev Oda came out to meet them following Question Period and was characteristically gracious.  As she spoke to the kids, Jack Layton (NDP) walked up and engaged them as well, obviously expressing interest in their lives and how they are adjusting to Canada.  I thanked him later in a quiet moment and he said he was pleased to have had the opportunity to dialogue with them – I believed him 100%.

Paul Dewar of the NDP, and a good friend, approached shortly after, commiserating with the kids and asking how their Halloween went.  Johanne Deschamps of the Bloc journeyed over and spoke with my wife for a time and reminded us that sometimes this kind of friendship is what meaningful politics entails.  There were many others, including security officers, and a great many of my own caucus who showed remarkable kindness.

Just as Question Period was starting, I crossed over the aisle (the DMZ, I call it) and deliberately shook Peter Mackay’s hand, congratulating him on the announcement of his engagement only the day before.  I sent him over a message during QP that I could sense the happiness in him.  I hope he doesn’t mind my telling that he responded back by saying he was smiling so much his face hurt.  Later, Conservative David Sweet crossed over to sit next to me on the opposition side and asked if I would cooperate with him on a venture in the near future.  I readily consented. As the House drew into the late-afternoon hours, I briefly sat next to Conservative Michael Chong, congratulating him on the birth of his new baby.

In all, it was a remarkable day, made all the more meaningful by the willingness of members to put aside their more partisan ways to engage in a middle space, even if just for a time.  There was a lot of crossing over yesterday and Parliament was the better for it.

Former John F. Kennedy speechwriter Ted Sorensen was in my riding in London last week delivering an engaging speech.  Though referring to American politics, he might just as easily have been speaking of Canada.  Regretting the declining nature of dialogue, he stated: “The national discourse has declined.  It has become more partisan, it has become more bitter, it is often shouting at the top of one’s voice.  Civility is not a sign of weakness.  That’s a very important principle.  Unfortunately, it’s being ignored by members of both parties … who cast about insults and untruths.”

And so we have it, the kind of resentful and prejudicial politics that is undoing the present political landscape.  But not yesterday – in ways meaningful and kind, the curtain was drawn back a little to reveal public servants honouring, cooperating and generally being kind to each other.  I understand the need for the heavy partisan bickering at a certain level, and though I disagree with it, I know it’s a permanent piece of the landscape up here.  Nevertheless, underneath that frenzy should be far more interactions of understanding and respect.  It’s how more compromise will be reached and how a minority parliament can work.  Sadly, there aren’t as many as there could be.  Yesterday, however, in all the crossing over, I realized again that politics can be about the possible.

Historian and moralist Lord Acton said it  and we’ve all heard it.  Now we get our chance to experience it … again.  ”"Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely,” Acton wrote to a friend.  I rather prefer William Pitt’s take on it: “Unlimited power is apt to corrupt the minds of those who possess it.”

What we are witnessing now in Ottawa is the corruption of the public space. Whether that corruption is absolute or merely partial doesn’t matter; either way, the power corrupts. The Conservatives knew full well that placing their logo on cheques of largesse violated the conflict of interest code but they did it anyway, for three reasons at least. The first is that their chief opposition has been compromised by their own past. Everyone recalls the Sponsorship scandal. Whenever Liberals stand up in the House to correctly warn the government of this kind of corruption, the inevitable response is: “Well, you guys did it too.” You hear it from both the government and the media and it’s true. The point is though, Stephen Harper came to power swearing he would clean this kind of thing up. Instead, he has turned it into an art form.

The second reason the government feels it can get away with it is the success it’s had in turning the public off politics altogether. Their damaging form of negative advertising has not only turned Canadians off, they’ve stopped showing up at the polls as well.  Canadians, in the main, don’t like this stuff, and so they opt out. Knowing that, the government ramps up its partisan efforts in ways that corrupt, increasingly raising the skepticism of the citizens. If nobody shows up in the stands, it doesn’t really matter how you play the game.

And that’s the third reason the present government is failing on its promise to make politics more ethical. It realizes that undertaking initiatives like putting the party logo on public cheques is likely unethical, but it is politically effective. The fact this is happening across so many disciplines in government has moved the goalposts of corruption increasingly towards the absolute.

Section 2 (b) of the Conflict of Interest Code states the following.  Each MP must:

fulfill their public duties with honesty and uphold the highest standards so as to avoid real or apparent conflicts of interests, and maintain and enhance public confidence and trust in the integrity of each member and in the House of Commons.”

Can anybody tell me if this is what’s happening at present? Don’t bother informing me that the Liberal’s did it. It’s true; I acknowledge it. But the point is, nobody should be doing it, and right now the government is guilty of perpetuating a pattern that is steadily eroding the public service and the public space. My Conservative MP friends know this is happening, and in quiet moments acknowledge their consternation. I’ll leave it to them to take their own respective stands.

Canada is not Conservative, Liberal, or any other political persuasion for that matter, regardless of what the parties say. It is Canadian and belongs to its citizens as is best expressed through the non-partisan public service. That sphere is steadily eroding as Stephen Harper stickhandles a minority government as though he possesses a majority.  When former Conservative PM Joe Clark said last week that the Harper Conservatives are “a private-interest party in a public-interest country,” he expressed a painful truth that will bring him grief from his own party. But it is the current practice and, to the best we can, we must stop it.

International Cooperation minister Bev Oda flies to Rome shortly for the UN’s Food and Agricultural Organization’s (FAO) food summit.  As such gatherings go, it doesn’t compare with its more noted cousins, such as the G8 or G20 summits, yet Oda heads to Italy to deal with one of the most crucial challenges facing the planet.

Presently, a record one billion people are now hungry worldwide and recent reports claim that number will increase significantly if governments don’t spend more on agriculture and food security.  The FAO itself reports that 30 countries now require emergency aid, with 20 of those being in Africa itself.

When a child dies every six seconds due to malnutrition, you know there’s a problem.

The issue is: What’s the solution?  In Canada, along with other nations, the price of food is spiraling. We all know it, feel it, yet we can still head down to the local supermarket and shop just a bit more frugally.  For those in the poorest countries, it could well lead to malnutrition at least, starvation at worst.  When an average family in Somalia, who spent $92 for basic foods in 2007 but now spends $171 for the same goods, it’s clear the issue is getting more urgent.

And so Ms. Oda heads to Rome with a food security future that is unclear.  As a rule, such summits barely move the goalposts; promises are made by the developed world that are most often unfulfilled.  Food prices and fuel allocations are at dangerous levels because of a lack of proper investment in past decades.  Food just seemed so cheap and plenteous that real innovate thinking and allocation of aid dollars didn’t seem that necessary.  Well, we’re now paying the price for that neglect and it’s reaching the critical stage.

So, with food prices up 80% since 2002, what can be done?  Oda went a long way to providing relief by untying food aid from the designs of the countries that donated it, thereby providing more growing opportunities in those regions of the world where the need was the greatest.  But that was only a good first step.  The next would be to fulfill the promises made at the G8 summit in Italy this past summer to spend $20 billion (US) on food development.  We’re not talking about just the gifting of food, but rather the kind of investment that sees to proper irrigation techniques, food storage capabilities, credit provision to local growers, greater assistance to smaller farms and innovation in crop rotation.

But there is more than can be done.  The unprecedented thirst for biofuels has meant that much needed land that could go to the production of consumption foods is instead being harvested for the corn that feeds the energy sector.  Because many of the donor nations have significant biofuel industries (including Canada), such consideration might never make it to the table.  To be sure, there will be the ceremonial wording around such issues, but they rarely lead to concrete action.  Canada could take a lead here.

With the United Nations now predicting that the world population will reach 9.1 billion by 2050 before it starts leveling off, how they are fed will become of paramount concern.  While we spend roughly 10% of our incomes on food, those in Third World allocate over half of their resources to the purchase of necessary food items.  There is little room for them to maneuver.  Ever-increasing food prices will devastate such families.

Minister Oda has shown that she comprehends the challenge in front of Canada’s own responsibility for food donation; in fact, she seems somewhat empowered by the challenge.  My own difficulties with CIDA have been recounted often enough in these pages for people to know that I fret over the future of the agency.  Yet in this area of food, Canada has taken a clear lead.  Our hopes and prayers go with the minister as she seeks to avert what is clearly an emerging catastrophe.

In my short life here in Parliament I had never seen anything like it. From up in the gallery, above where the media sits, students began yelling out that MPs should rush to pass Bill C-311, known in recent weeks as the Climate Change Bill. As the minutes went on, more and more of the young people heckled the parliamentarians below until at last they were removed from the House altogether. To some it was entertaining, to others distracting, but the general feeling was one of surprise and discomfort.

I had met with another group of university students earlier in the day in my office and I could sense their strong commitment to environmental reform.  I liked them.  They were keen and eloquent, and although I disagree with how others caused such a disruption in the House of Commons later, it wasn’t hard to tell where they were coming from.

The NDP introduced the bill into the House but last week MPs opted to give the relevant committee a 30-day extension to discuss its merits. I voted against the extension, and opted to support the NDP bill that would establish a clear target in time for the Copenhagen climate change meetings that are just around the corner.

What transpired yesterday is something of an indicator as to what Parliament and the country itself has come to.  Protestors felt the need to invade a sacred place; parliamentarians looked uncomfortable and somewhat unmoved; and the media raced out into the halls to grab their pictures and stories of young people being muscled out of the Parliament buildings.

We’re better than this – all of us.  The bill itself was asking us to treat climate change seriously.  We haven’t and we’ll pay for it in world opinion at Copenhagen, not to mention global devastation.  The difficult things we will face in our future – environmental degradation, terrorism, starvation, poverty – demand outrage, attention and a sense of urgency.  Parliament can’t muster up that kind of anger, except to lob our partisan attacks.  So, these young people brought it into our own ballpark, trying to give us a wake-up call.

In truth, what else can they do: nobody seems to be listening on these vital files. Colin Horgan, Canadian writer for Britain’s Guardian newspaper, pretty well summed it up about our country at the moment:

Harper’s performance of the Beatles song … at a gala benefit in Ottawa … sparked an immediate response.  The media cooed … and Harper became a YouTube hit.  Harper’s popularity might be on the rise, but it’s not because of his piano playing or aw-shucks coffee shop patriotism.  It’s because he allows us to be apathetic.  And the less we care, the better he’ll look.”

Or, as Paul Wells put it in Maclean’s this past week: “With every action and inaction, Harper is changing Canada – and we’re not noticing.” 

It’s sad enough that the world is seeing us in this light; it’s more tragic when we begin to see it in ourselves.  It wasn’t that long ago that an international magazine called Canada “cool” and involved.  Now we’re merely complacent and ingrown.  Yet, though Canadians might not be interested in politics, they are interested in the world and how it sees us.  Things have become inverted.  Very serious minded young hecklers in the House were tossed out, while the “professional” hecklers occupying the main seats maintain their honourable spots.  We’re all in collusion … and delusion.  These young people at least had the courage of their convictions and it seems they believe more in Canada’s environmental future than we do.  The planet is in better care in their hands than our own.

Andrew Coyne put forward an interesting premise a few days ago: “Time For Ignatieff To Take A Chance.” The popular Maclean’s columnist suggested it might be time for Michael Ignatieff to rip up those prepared speeches and just speak from the heart. He believes the public is looking for someone who’s truly “authentic” and they would likely “rush the barriers” to see Ignatieff if he just put it all out there. Coyne presses on to say that Canada’s present political climate is largely dishonest and timid – incapable of taking Canadians where they really need to go. It was a well-written column but I still wonder as to its premise.

Let’s be honest: No political leader in their right mind dares to be as truthful as Coyne challenges because it would be the media itself that couldn’t withhold its skepticism long enough to truly investigate the merits of that leader’s case. Opposition parties would immediately pounce and all manner of bloggers, pundits and columnists would discuss the scary ramifications of such a daredevil proposition. I recall when Ignatieff came to London following a visit to Cambridge, in which he stated no leader would be worthy of the name if he or she didn’t place the possibility of raising taxes on a long list of future considerations if a deficit couldn’t be brought under control. Political staffers mulled around, worried that it would be taken out of context, which it inevitably was. Media had a field day with it. Ignatieff, suffering from a gruelling cold, sat in a chair prior to the event in London and wondered what became of honesty in the public space. The very next day in the House, Conservative members used every possible occasion to ridicule Ignatieff, calling him just another “tax and spend” Liberal. The media ate it up.

Back in early-2007, a few months after I was elected, I watched in disappointment as Stephen Harper wondered aloud as to whether Canada might not have to consider remaining in Afghanistan a while longer, only to be ridiculed as a war-monger by opposition parties and media alike. He had dared to ask an important policy question in public and many in the media took the easy route, opting for the salacious over articles of in-depth research. That research did come later but largely through the Manley Report.

I watch it every day in Question Period. Like the half-mortal gods of the ancient Greeks, the media occupies the upper tier of seats in the press gallery and amuses itself on the vain actions and ambitions of the mere mortals below. When a minister, whom the gods appear to favour, responds to a question by minimizing the query in an amusing fashion, many of the gods merely smile outwardly at his brashness, refusing to acknowledge that, not only is the answer untruthful, it is, in fact, demeaning of a serious place of public debate. Politicians pick this up. Those that are ahead in the polls (supposedly favoured by the gods) at a given time look up to their communications benefactors, nod in greeting, and remain intent on schmoozing with the journalists at some event later in the day to maintain their favour. Those that are behind in public favour cast quick and insecure glances at the upper tier, wondering if the journalists will only make their lot worse the next day.

Maybe, if we were all to be truthful, we should just acknowledge that the media has become Canada’s natural governing party – it remains when other parties stumble and fall. Journalists and commentators facing horrendous deadlines find their work made easier when some politician steps out of line and in a rare moment of candour tells the truth. It’s far easier to mull over the effect of the statement than to truly take the time to consider its potential for damage or good. I read in a national daily today a well-known columnist whom I respect wonder if it might not be a wise time for Harper to cause another election if he wants to survive some upcoming challenges like Afghanistan. What’s with that? Ignatieff just took a national pummelling for threatening to force an election and now we have a pundit thinking it might not be a bad idea for Harper.

I admit that, as a fairly new MP, I am confused by all of this. When I told an NDP MP friend of mine that I was going to write this post, she immediately replied, “Glen, don’t do it; they’ll dump on you.” But when everything we do in the House is meant to satisfy the media, little is left for true honesty and the need for serious public policy. Can Andrew Coyne guarantee a fair hearing from media colleagues for honest revelations from political leaders?  Unlikely. I remain at a loss. Meanwhile the gods above observe … and enjoy their bemusement.

Darfur had fallen off the world’s radar screen until last week, when the Obama administration opted to begin a more progressive engagement with the Sudanese government – the merits of which remain uncertain. The administration’s special Sudan envoy, Scott Gration, likens Obama’s approach as a “carrot and stick” attempt to get Sudanese president Omar Bashir to deal more effectively with the devastation and criminal neglect still inflicted upon the average person in Darfur.

That’s all well and good, but there remains one deep and sinister practice condoned by the Sudanese government that screams for attention but whose voice seems to dissipate into a deep void.

Rape is a tragic trait in most conflicts, but in Sudan it takes on a sinister quality, in part because it transpires in such remote regions that the world never knows. Non-governmental organizations, funded by larger agencies like the United Nations, built in loose structures of support to assist rape victims in their protection and rehabilitation. Development and human rights workers, always prone to acronyms and shortened forms of speech, refer to it as GBV – Gender Based Violence. As terrible as the situation in Darfur was during the murderous days following 2004, there was always a certain consolation that victims of rape were at least being treated.

Things took an unfortunate turn when Bashir, in reaction to being indicted by the International Criminal Court, turned on his own people, in part by kicking out numerous humanitarian organizations he claimed were giving secret evidence to the court itself. Sadly, some of the NGOs were the agencies assisting with GBV. Rape was already systemic before their ousting, but the diabolical practice of sexual rape is now moving ahead unabated. Those agencies that do attempt to assist the victims report being harassed by government officials, who most often claim these NGOs are hurling empty allegations when they report mass rapes in Darfur. The Norwegian Refugee Council was kicked out of Darfur after publishing a report on the prevalence of rape, condoned by the government. Bashir claimed the findings were false and the head of MSF-Holland was arrested after his agency reported widespread cases of rape.

Without a support network to assist them, rape victims who dare to report such a crime run the risk of prosecution for adultery if they can’t prove they didn’t consent to the act. How can they possibly prove that? If sentenced, public lashings could ensue or, on rare occasions, stoning. Following the shame of it all, how does a woman then make her own way in life? With no sure source of income, she has to rely on the meagre possessions of friends or family in a region that hardly has any resources at all.

The UN is attempting to bring on more “gender desk officers” – female police officers with little experience in GBV. All recent efforts to provide a sufficient support network for victims of GBV hardly measure up to the formidable task brought on by Bashir’s acts of national and international lawlessness. This was a case where the West, in indicting Bashir at the ICC, actually created conditions where sexual violence and rape took on tragic proportions. While millions of dollars and expert witnesses went into the indictment, virtually nothing was granted to these women who suffer evil’s deep secret. If the Responsibility to Protect doctrine can’t protect these women from the deepest shame imaginable, what good is it? How can it possibly boast of effectiveness? If it was our mother or daughter, we would scream from the rooftops, not for a hearing, but for action. These women of Darfur are just screaming. Does anybody hear?