There are few politicians who do not claim that “youth engagement” in politics is near and dear to his or her heart. As any young person who has attempted to get involved in politics on any level can testify, politicians are generally more than thrilled to see any young person (of voting age, mind you) show up to any political event—when as a university student I showed up with a friend at a Stephen Harper rally, a campaign staffer promptly stuffed us into Conservative t-shirts, handed us signs, and ushered us to the seats directly behind the podium with a contingent of other attendees of a similar age. When TV cameras zoomed in on the prime minister, they would see him backed by the smiling faces of the future, passionately cheering for the newest politico requesting our votes. The Liberal Party is now one-upping the carefully presented feline-toting Conservative party boss—by having a Real Live Young Person™ lead them–and Pierre Trudeau’s son, no less. This, of course, to the delight of Liberal TV hacks who relish informing us that the new Trudeau is lighting a patriotic fire in the throbbing hearts of young Canadians (who surely haven’t noticed that he may have his father’s looks, but most certainly does not have his brains.)
The fundamentally depressing thing about contemporary politics in general but Canadian politics specifically is that it is extraordinarily boring and visionless. Harper tells us in a tone both uninspiring and reassuring that he’ll hold the steering wheel steady and manage us out of this recession, and balance the budget to boot—maybe, someday. He’ll also ensure that the abortion debate stays closed, because people have strong views about that issue, which sounds very unsettling. Trudeau casts about for something meaningful to say, tries a few Obama-esque lines, and then pulls on a t-shirt and settles for a decisively faltering, “I’m not THAT guy–which, by the way, is a very positive thing.”
Harper’s main “vision” seems to be of a Canada with him as prime minister, with little or no fidelity towards transparency or social conservative values, and only a passing nod at best towards fiscal conservatism. Member of Parliament Brent Rathgeber, who recently resigned the Conservative caucus, says that’s why he left: “I joined the Reform/conservative movements because I thought we were somehow different, a band of Ottawa outsiders riding into town to clean the place up, promoting open government and accountability. I barely recognize ourselves, and worse I fear that we have morphed into what we once mocked.”
Meanwhile, Justin Trudeau demands, curls fairly shivering in outrage, that we move Canada out of some fictitious Conservative wasteland which seems to exist primarily in his own imagination towards a bright and sunny future where the Natural Governing Party is governing again—with him as prime minister, naturally. (There’s also the leader of the NDP—Mulcair, is it?)
It may be that we’ve moved out of the era of leaders who enter politics to implement a pre-existing vision for their countries rather than simply maintain and manage the status quo. It may be that this is simply the unrealistic nostalgia that afflicts anyone who spends too much time reading history. But for young political junkies like me, it’s difficult not to look back at leaders of the recent past and wish we had someone of their calibre, rather than politicians who merely confirm what we already know and assure us that it will not change. I realize that this is not unique to any era, but many of our current politicians seem to hold that power is not a means to an end, but the end itself.
You don’t have to look back too far to see leaders who defied this stereotype. Figures such as Ronald Reagan, Margaret Thatcher, and Pierre Trudeau, polarizing as they were, were leaders with conviction and a vision for their countries. Even those who hated Reagan had to admit that he sought to conform America’s status quo to a compelling vision he truly believed in—and years later, even some of his harshest critics had to admit he was instrumental in ending the Cold War. Margaret Thatcher changed Great Britain, especially economically, in ways that while perhaps exaggerated, were fundamental and permanent. So too with Pierre Trudeau—while I despise almost every aspect of his legacy, the 1969 Omnibus Bill that decriminalized abortion being the most prominent example—no one can read his book Towards a Just Society or examine his career without coming to the conclusion that Trudeau had no intention of “managing” Canada or shoring up the status quo—he intended to change it. And, for better or for worse, he most certainly did. Looking at men and women like these, leaders with visions that transcended polls and politics, it’s hard not to feel nostalgic for times when, as Peggy Noonan observed, “character was king.”
Reagonomics. Thatcherism. Trudeaumania. These personalities were so powerful that their names were attached to political trends or used to describe a phenomenon. (This is markedly different; it should be noted, from Mr. Harper asking that the Government of Canada be referred to as “The Harper Government.”) It is true that leaders of that calibre are remarkable because they are scarce—and in that sense, this comparison is perhaps unfair. But is it too much to ask for leaders who at least attempt a meaningful vision? Is it too much to ask for leaders who occasionally govern on principle and convictions, rather than on what is considered the most expedient? The age of political leaders may be over, and the age of political managers and bureaucrats may be upon us. But we can at least ask why—and we can, as the Stephen Harper of 2004 once said, demand better.